Enslaved on an Alien World Ch 02
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Quentin osman opened the mail. They’re ready to send them,” he said. “Earlier than first anticipated.”
“But we’re not ready,” said Melissa. She was very carefully painting her toenails a pale gold colour... at the same time thinking she would soon have Julia to do this task for her.
Quentin reflected for a little while. “From the security point of view,” he said, “we can be ready in a day or two. And, although we might not be as well-equipped as we might like at this stage, we can improvise. Might be rather fun.”
Melissa shrugged. “If you say so, I’ll go along... ”
„Madame Vesta does indicate that too great a delay might pose problems.”
“Well, let’s get on with it then.”
„Then I’ll mail for delivery to be made.”
“Julia as well... ”
“Ah yes, my dear... Julia as well!”
Three days later, Quentin Osman and his wife were installed in Maison Jaune. Their quarters were comfortable, if not luxurious. Again, as at the rented villa, they had separate suites. Zelda, Hans and Cassim continued to busy themselves with a variety of preparations, most of them in the cellars beneath the ancient chateau. Three cells were readied and the basics for a Training Room and a Punishment Room set up.
On a tour of inspection, Quentin expressed himself satisfied, though admitting improvements could be made. Melissa concurred.
“There’s something very agreeable about the crudeness of these items” she remarked, running a hand over a heavy roughwood table. It had had a section of tree trunk fastened at one end and been given numerous pinioning straps. It would serve well as a flogging bench for all its rustic, almost medieaval appearance. So would the whipping post... another tree trunk with cross-member at the top. Nearby was a birching hurdle, this time a smaller tree trunk supported between two stout uprights.
“Yes, they rather appeal to me,” admitted Quentin. He did not mind that he did not have the smooth, automatically operated Whipping Blocks of Cragness, with their curving, polished surfaces and clamping steel bands. After all, wood and leather were as good as anything when it came to securement... and, somehow, more symbolic.
Melissa could not restrain a little shiver as she inspected the cells. A rough plank bed... the heavy iron collar and chain. Nothing else. Except the hooks on the wall from which hung two instruments of correction. A meaty, single-thonged tawse of brown leather... and a smooth willow rod, pale yellow and polished. They were not objects which the occupant of that cell would look on with any peace of mind.
Oh what a world of terror and torment that simple cell was soon to become!
With something like relief, Melissa mounted to the warmth and daylight of the chateau above. Once she, too, had been a slave. Melissa shivered. But now she was a Mistress. And Melissa glowed.
“Everything alright then, Melissa?”
“Fine...”
“The crates are arriving tonight. Flown in from North Africa.”
“Aahhhh...”
“Shall I have Julia’s put in your suite?”
“Please do. Since she is going to be my personal maid. As well as an example to others... ”
Quentin grinned. He did not exactly envy Julia her new role!
Hans and Cassim were carrying out the crate from Melissa’s room. Julia, still senseless, lay stretched out naked on the floor. She had just been given a powerful injection. Even so, it would take her a few minutes to come round fully. Melissa, however, was in no hurry. Wearing a lacy black negligee, supplemented by a pair of calf-length black boots with high, golden heels, she sat in an armchair smoking a cigarette held in an ivory holder.
How nice it was, she was thinking, to own somebody. To know you could do whatever you liked with them. To know that they had to do what you wanted. Heavenly!
Julia began to stir. Her breathing, which had seemed almost non-existent, returned to normal. Finally she opened her eyes. At first they looked blank... glazed... then they began to focus.
After another minute, Melissa spoke.
“Yes, Julia,” she said softly, “you are in the presence of your new Mistress. You may kneel up, girl.”
Like an automaton, Julia knelt erect, splaying her thighs and placed her hands on top of her head. Her dark eyes were little pools of despair; her wide mouth quivered slightly; her body was as superbly shaped as ever.
Melissa smiled. “Have you nothing to say, Julia?” she enquired.
The lips moved. “I... I... am honoured to... to have been s-sent to you, Mistress,” replied Julia in a hoarse whisper. “And... and... I am honoured to be ... p-permitted ... to... serve you, Mistress... ”
“That’s right, Julia,” said Melissa, getting up and moving slowly and elegantly round her new possession. “Amongst other things, you are going to be my personal maid.”
There was a little silence before there came another hoarse whisper from Julia. “Th-Thank you, Mistress,” she said.
From off her dressing table, Melissa picked a slim switch of polished, ivory white whalebone. It had a gold-chased handle with an inch-long gold tip from which dangled a few strands of white leather. It was an elegant instrument of chastisement for an elegant woman. Not a severe one, of course... but designed to sting sharply and remind that more painful instruments were always available.
“Whenever you displease me, Julia... you will feel this,” said Melissa. Then she slashed the slim rod across the top of Julia’s buttocks.
Julia scarcely flinched. She was almost inured against pain of such a relatively low degree. Perhaps faintly annoyed at the lack of reaction, Melissa moved around and laid the rod equally hard clean across the centre of Julia’s fulsome breasts.
This time, Julia did flinch. And gasp, too, her teeth clenching with the sudden, sharp pain on such tender flesh.
“Understood, Julia?”
“Yer... ess... M-Mistress...”
“Also, slave, you should know I still keep that rhino-whip in a cupboard here. You remember that whip, Julia?”
Julia, momentarily, seemed to cringe. Her eyes dilated. Melissa had once used that whip on her. Mercilessly!
“Y-Yes... Mistress... ” she whispered.
“Let me tell you, Julia, I shall not hesitate to use that whip again if I detect in you the slightest sign of insolence... if you are careless... or slack. I shall not mention the act of disobedience... for I do not think you are any longer capable of it. Is that quite clear, Julia?”
“Y-Yes... Mistress... ”
“Very well, then, go and run my bath. Then lay out the clothes you will find in the top drawer of that tallboy.”
“At... at once, Mistress... ”
Julia sprang immediately to her feet, breasts bouncing. Then she hurried from the room. Melissa smiled as she watched the thin weal she had just raised wriggling like a snake over Julia’s bottom as her buttocks bounced and swung from side to side.
Oh what a joy it was to own a slave!
Now she was really beginning to understand the pure delight of it.
And, despite all she had suffered at his hands, Melissa inwardly thanked Quentin for making it all possible for her.
The outfit that Melissa chose to wear for the evening to come was absolutely traditional. Why depart from that, she asked herself? It was composed of the finest, thinnest black leather. Even her brassiere and panties were made of the same material. There was a small bolero jacket, an exceedingly short pleated skirt and a pair of thigh-length boots with five-inch spike heels.
Nervously, Julia dressed her new Mistress in this dominatrix garb... wondering what it portended. She, of course, knew nothing as yet of the presence of the two young women in the chateau. She was thankful, merely, that Melissa seemed well content when she examined herself in a full-length mirror. Oh God, thought Julia, she does indeed now look like a true Mistress. Yet once Melissa had been a slave like herself. Incredible! A slap across her face brought Julia sharply back to the present.
“Don’t daydream, girl,” said Melissa, seating herself at her dressing table. “Comb out my hair... then set it up in a high style, using these pins... ”
Yes, Mistress... at once, Mistress”
What was a simple slap across the face? It was the very least a slave could expect. Assiduously, Julia began to brush out the thick, dark auburn hair which fell to shoulder length. Beautiful hair. It almost seemed alive as it bounced back and shook under her brush.
“Tonight,” said Melissa after a while, “you are going to set an example.”
Julia felt a twinge of apprehension. What did that mean?
“Yes... Mistress...”
“Do you know what that means, Julia?”
“N-No... not exactly... Mistress...”
“Think back, Julia. To the time when you were first introduced to slavery aboard the ‘Paradise’. When Ahmed was, doubtless, stripping you naked. Stripping you to the state in which, virtually, you have remained ever since. Was not an example made then?”
Julia’s mind, seeming to shudder, raced back to that nightmare experience. One never, never, to be forgotten. Yes... she did remember. There had been an example... . It had been the voluptuous, red-headed Jewess (Rebecca had been her name, she thought) led in on collar and chain by the negro Jason... led in like an a****l, naked and on all fours. Then it had been an unbelievable, nightmare spectacle. But, then, that was long ago. Today Julia would have thought nothing of it.
“Yes, Mistress,” she said in a low voice.
“Well, tonight, this is your role... ”
“I... understand, Mistress... ”
Melissa smiled into the mirror. “Yes... I bet you do,” she said. “By the way, Julia, I haven’t asked you about your return to the ‘Paradise’. How did that go?”
Julia’s features twitched, she shuddered convulsively. Melissa saw the reactions to her words and understood them very well. She saw, too, the effort of will and control Julia was making.
“I... I am g-grateful to my M-Mistress for... for... sending me back”... came the answer.
“Really?” Melissa’s eyebrows went up mockingly. She could imagine just how utterly appalling it must have been to return to that hell-ship. To all its never-ending horrors. To Madame Vesta, to Miss Judith, to Ahmed and Jason.
“Yes... M-Mistress,” said Julia in a choked voice, “f-for... I think it... it made me... a... more satisfactory s-slave than... than I was... ”
“Ahhhhh...” Melissa smiled again into the mirror, revelling in the look on Julia’s face. “Rumour has it, Julia, you were quite popular. Giving excellent performances for the guests. On the long table after dinner. Is that so?”
Again the twitch of the lovely features. And now the nervous tic in the cheek. “I...I don’t know, Mistress...”
“Don’t know?”
“I mean... I d-don’t know... if... if I was excellent, Mistress... ”
“Ahh... I see. Well, by all accounts you were. How do you like being fucked in public, Julia? Not to mention being bum-fucked and doing some cock-sucking as well?”
It was a difficult question for Julia, and Melissa knew it. There was a little pause. Julia bit her lip. “I... it was not for m-me... a s-slave, Mistress... to like or d-dislike. It is... my duty... to... to s-serve... and... and please... ”
“Quite right, Julia.” The question had been handled well. Melissa stood up, tall and commanding in her black leather outfit and highheeled boots. What a difference one’s clothing made, she reflected. She felt very much the dominatrix.
From out of a drawer, she took a jewel-studded dog-collar and a long, slim leash of leather.
“Down, Julia,” said Melissa. “On all fours.”
Immediately, Julia adopted the undignified crouching posture... not on hands and knees, but with hands to floor, knees only slightly bent and hindquarters raised up. Melissa put on the collar and buckled it. Then she clipped on the leash.
“Make you feel more like the bitch you are, does it, Julia?” asked Melissa.
For some reason, Julia did not take the question as one to be answered. More of a jibe than anything. So she remained silent. But it was not a rhetorical question, she quickly realised, when Melissa’s whalebone switch bit into her upraised buttocks.
“Insolence!” cried Melissa. “How dare you not answer me, slave!”
“Ahh... I... ahh... beg p-pardon, Mistress... ”
“Keep your bottom up...and keep it still!”
“Y-Yes... Mistress... yes...”
Four more times the switch slashed fiercely across Julia’s squirming bottom. Lucky, she thought, it is not something worse...
“Answer, slave!”
“Y-Yes... Mistress...yes... I f-feel a bitch... I am... am... a bitch... ”
Melissa grinned. “Keep that bottom up. There’s more to come.”
Five more strokes came in rapid succession, having Julia squirming down almost on to her knees.
“If there’s any more insolence of that nature,” said Melissa as she led Julia across the room on the lead, “you’ll feel the whip. Understood?”
“Yes... ahh... yes... Mistress... ”
Julia’s shapely, weal-striped bottom swayed from side to side as she moved on all fours; beneath her, her pendulous breasts swung. Melissa slipped the handle of the leash over a hook on the wall.
“You’ll stay here till you’re fetched, bitch,” she said.
Julia said nothing. That time it had not been a question. She gazed wretchedly down at the carpet, a few inches below her nose. She was aware not only of the indignity of her posture but of its discomfort. It was a discomfort that would get increasingly worse as time passed. Arms, legs and back would soon be aching abominably. Yet she knew she would not dare to move or alter her posture. That would have been direct disobedience of Melissa’s order.
And thus could earn her a sound whipping.
Julia blinked back her tears as she heard the door of Melissa’s suite close. Oh dear God, what a world of difference there now was between them!
What a universe of difference!
When once they had been so close. In misfortune.
Now I am alone, thought Julia.
Utterly alone in my misery and torment.
Soon the tears were flowing copiously.
After a while, they began to ebb. Then Julia began to remember she was, that evening, to be made an example of. Before whom, she wondered?
Poor, poor devil, she thought, whoever it is...
Their grimy appearance and general dishevelment could not hide the ripe yet girlish beauty of both Maria and Heidi. Quentin literally licked his lips when he first set eyes on them. Here, obviously, were two superb prizes he had won. Which he now owned. And which he could do as he liked with.
Both girls were flimsily clad, still wearing the clothes they had had on when the small yacht had unfortunately overturned, sinking them without trace. Maria had on a blue-check blouse and tight-fitting navy-blue jeans; Heidi had on a white blouse and a very brief pair of white shorts. Quentin’s eyes ran appreciatively over her golden brown legs. How girlishly soft and smooth they looked. Her whole body would look like that he thought, feeling a tingle of lust.
Hans and Cassim had just finished putting the senseless girls in chains... a task which they seemed to find quite agreeable. Both men were quite nude but for brief, tight white pouches, bulging almost fearsomely. These pouches seemed to emphasise the size and power of their masculinity.
Then Melissa came into the well-lit cellar, immediately followed by Zelda. Melissa carried a slim black riding switch, which she kept tapping against a boot. Zelda was also in black leather. However, she wore a blouse and tight-fitting trousers... these trousers tucking into calf-length boots. From her waist hung an eighteen-inch long strap. This was, one might say, a permanent part of her uniform.
“Well, well,” said Melissa, smiling happily at the chained figures, “They look even better than they did in their photographs.”
“Don’t they just,” grinned Quentin. “They’ve got some real shape for girls of their age.”
“Lovely big tits on this one,” said Melissa, indicating Heidi.
“And she’s the younger. Still, you can’t exactly fault the boobs of her sister.”
“True... true. Yes... I think we might say Madame Vesta has done us proud.”
Quentin seated himself in one of the two armchairs. “Bring them round, please Zelda,” he ordered.
“Yes, Sir... ”
The hard-faced woman with the almond eyes produced a syringe. At that moment she was looking far more Turkish than English. Hans and Cassim retired to the wall facing the two victims and stood impassive, with folded arms. Melissa walked slowly up and down while the reviving stimulant did its work. She was bubbling deep down with excitement.
After about a minute, both girls began to breathe faster and their eyelids were flickering. Then those eyes opened and they began to gaze around them in baffled surprise and disbelief.
Something like half an hour later, both girls were still in their chains and still fully clothed. Their cheeks were now stained with tears and there was a look of shock upon their features. On those of Heidi there was also a look of outraged fury.
Repeatedly and patiently, Melissa had explained the position to them.
They were lost to the world (she showed them newspaper accounts of their drowning).
They were now slaves (she showed them Quentin sitting silent and watchful - now their owner). She was their Mistress (and she flexed her supple switch menacingly). There were their guards and trainers (she indicated Zelda, Hans and Cassim).
In waves of varying intensity came the disbelieving protests.
The incredulous outrage.
The vituperative abuse.
On and on it went. But Melissa seemed quite unconcerned. There was all the time in the world, wasn’t there?
“Stop this ridiculous charade!”
“Release us at once... at once!”
“We demand... demand to see our father!”
“You’ll pay for this... my God you’ll pay for this!”
“How dare you... how dare you...”
“This is absurd... ”
“You must be mad... all of you!”
“It can’t be true... it can’t be!”
“I must be dreaming... I must be!”
On and on it went... .
“I think it’s about time we convinced them of the truth of matters,” said Quentin, eyes glowing quietly.
“I agree,” nodded Melissa. She signed to Hans and Cassim. “Strip them both naked, please...”
The incredulous shrieks reached a new pitch as the two husky brutes advanced, muscles rippling. Chains clanked and rattled as the two girls twisted and turned and tried to back away.
“NO... OOOOOO!”
“NO... OOOOOO!”
Cassim stepped before the blond Heidi, Hans before the dark-haired Maria.
“DON’T TOUCH ME.”
YOU... YOU CAN’T... YOU MUSTN’T!”
Cassim’s finger hooked into Heidi’s white blouse, Hans’ finger hooked into Maria’s checked one.
“NO... OOOO... OOOOHH... STOOO... OPPPP!”
“Agh... NO... AGH... NO... OOO... AAAAGGHHH... NO... OOOOOO!”
Rip...
Rip...
Down to each slim waist. Revealing flimsy white-net brassieres. Brassieres that were heaving to bursting point.
Rip...
Rip...
Lovely young breasts swinging and bouncing wildly.
Naked and free.
Fulsome breasts.
Heidi’s, with coral-pink nipples, the slightly larger... Maria’s nipples rather darker, orbs superbly rounded...
Both pairs thrusting firm, scorning the need for support.
Quentin licked his lips again. Yes... he had some luscious fruit to enjoy.
The shrieks, the protests, the abuse, had reached new peaks of intensity and volume.
“b**stS! VILE b**stS!”
“MONSTERS... STOP IT... OH... STOP IT... ”
Cassim’s finger hooked in the top of Heidi’s shorts, Hans’ finger hooked in the top of Maria’s jeans.
“NO... OOO... YOU CAN’T!”
“OH GOD... NO... OOOOO!”
Rip... rip . .
Rip... rip... rip...
Away came Heidi’s brief shorts... away came Maria’s tight jeans. Revealing little white-net panties. Revealing smooth girlish flesh... Heidi pale gold, Maria ivory white. Revealing curvaceous shapeliness... revealing lissom young bodies... .
“NOO...OOOOOOOOOO!”
“NO...OOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Rip...
Rip...
The last little bits of covering came away...
Maria and Heidi were stark naked... threshing wildly and shrieking hysterically in their chains. There was a constant tumult of juddering girl-flesh, upon which Quentin feasted his eyes. As did Hans and Cassim from closer range.
One blond triangle... one dark triangle. Both neat, short-haired and downy-soft.
Zelda’s hard features were impassive, but her almond eyes were glittering brightly.
Melissa was smiling an unabashed sadistic smile. She knew just what a frenzy of emotions was driving the girls to this state of near-hysteria.
And it was all very understandable.
The shock of slavery could not yet be fully absorbed. Or, even, be properly understood.
But the shock of being stripped naked could!
“Now do you believe me?” she enquired above the shrieking sounds.
But the shrieking sounds only continued... seemingly ever-louder. With a shrug, Melissa turned away.
“Gag them,” she said to Hans and Cassim, “they’re beginning to give me a headache.”
The two assistants moved to obey...
“But we’re not ready,” said Melissa. She was very carefully painting her toenails a pale gold colour... at the same time thinking she would soon have Julia to do this task for her.
Quentin reflected for a little while. “From the security point of view,” he said, “we can be ready in a day or two. And, although we might not be as well-equipped as we might like at this stage, we can improvise. Might be rather fun.”
Melissa shrugged. “If you say so, I’ll go along... ”
„Madame Vesta does indicate that too great a delay might pose problems.”
“Well, let’s get on with it then.”
„Then I’ll mail for delivery to be made.”
“Julia as well... ”
“Ah yes, my dear... Julia as well!”
Three days later, Quentin Osman and his wife were installed in Maison Jaune. Their quarters were comfortable, if not luxurious. Again, as at the rented villa, they had separate suites. Zelda, Hans and Cassim continued to busy themselves with a variety of preparations, most of them in the cellars beneath the ancient chateau. Three cells were readied and the basics for a Training Room and a Punishment Room set up.
On a tour of inspection, Quentin expressed himself satisfied, though admitting improvements could be made. Melissa concurred.
“There’s something very agreeable about the crudeness of these items” she remarked, running a hand over a heavy roughwood table. It had had a section of tree trunk fastened at one end and been given numerous pinioning straps. It would serve well as a flogging bench for all its rustic, almost medieaval appearance. So would the whipping post... another tree trunk with cross-member at the top. Nearby was a birching hurdle, this time a smaller tree trunk supported between two stout uprights.
“Yes, they rather appeal to me,” admitted Quentin. He did not mind that he did not have the smooth, automatically operated Whipping Blocks of Cragness, with their curving, polished surfaces and clamping steel bands. After all, wood and leather were as good as anything when it came to securement... and, somehow, more symbolic.
Melissa could not restrain a little shiver as she inspected the cells. A rough plank bed... the heavy iron collar and chain. Nothing else. Except the hooks on the wall from which hung two instruments of correction. A meaty, single-thonged tawse of brown leather... and a smooth willow rod, pale yellow and polished. They were not objects which the occupant of that cell would look on with any peace of mind.
Oh what a world of terror and torment that simple cell was soon to become!
With something like relief, Melissa mounted to the warmth and daylight of the chateau above. Once she, too, had been a slave. Melissa shivered. But now she was a Mistress. And Melissa glowed.
“Everything alright then, Melissa?”
“Fine...”
“The crates are arriving tonight. Flown in from North Africa.”
“Aahhhh...”
“Shall I have Julia’s put in your suite?”
“Please do. Since she is going to be my personal maid. As well as an example to others... ”
Quentin grinned. He did not exactly envy Julia her new role!
Hans and Cassim were carrying out the crate from Melissa’s room. Julia, still senseless, lay stretched out naked on the floor. She had just been given a powerful injection. Even so, it would take her a few minutes to come round fully. Melissa, however, was in no hurry. Wearing a lacy black negligee, supplemented by a pair of calf-length black boots with high, golden heels, she sat in an armchair smoking a cigarette held in an ivory holder.
How nice it was, she was thinking, to own somebody. To know you could do whatever you liked with them. To know that they had to do what you wanted. Heavenly!
Julia began to stir. Her breathing, which had seemed almost non-existent, returned to normal. Finally she opened her eyes. At first they looked blank... glazed... then they began to focus.
After another minute, Melissa spoke.
“Yes, Julia,” she said softly, “you are in the presence of your new Mistress. You may kneel up, girl.”
Like an automaton, Julia knelt erect, splaying her thighs and placed her hands on top of her head. Her dark eyes were little pools of despair; her wide mouth quivered slightly; her body was as superbly shaped as ever.
Melissa smiled. “Have you nothing to say, Julia?” she enquired.
The lips moved. “I... I... am honoured to... to have been s-sent to you, Mistress,” replied Julia in a hoarse whisper. “And... and... I am honoured to be ... p-permitted ... to... serve you, Mistress... ”
“That’s right, Julia,” said Melissa, getting up and moving slowly and elegantly round her new possession. “Amongst other things, you are going to be my personal maid.”
There was a little silence before there came another hoarse whisper from Julia. “Th-Thank you, Mistress,” she said.
From off her dressing table, Melissa picked a slim switch of polished, ivory white whalebone. It had a gold-chased handle with an inch-long gold tip from which dangled a few strands of white leather. It was an elegant instrument of chastisement for an elegant woman. Not a severe one, of course... but designed to sting sharply and remind that more painful instruments were always available.
“Whenever you displease me, Julia... you will feel this,” said Melissa. Then she slashed the slim rod across the top of Julia’s buttocks.
Julia scarcely flinched. She was almost inured against pain of such a relatively low degree. Perhaps faintly annoyed at the lack of reaction, Melissa moved around and laid the rod equally hard clean across the centre of Julia’s fulsome breasts.
This time, Julia did flinch. And gasp, too, her teeth clenching with the sudden, sharp pain on such tender flesh.
“Understood, Julia?”
“Yer... ess... M-Mistress...”
“Also, slave, you should know I still keep that rhino-whip in a cupboard here. You remember that whip, Julia?”
Julia, momentarily, seemed to cringe. Her eyes dilated. Melissa had once used that whip on her. Mercilessly!
“Y-Yes... Mistress... ” she whispered.
“Let me tell you, Julia, I shall not hesitate to use that whip again if I detect in you the slightest sign of insolence... if you are careless... or slack. I shall not mention the act of disobedience... for I do not think you are any longer capable of it. Is that quite clear, Julia?”
“Y-Yes... Mistress... ”
“Very well, then, go and run my bath. Then lay out the clothes you will find in the top drawer of that tallboy.”
“At... at once, Mistress... ”
Julia sprang immediately to her feet, breasts bouncing. Then she hurried from the room. Melissa smiled as she watched the thin weal she had just raised wriggling like a snake over Julia’s bottom as her buttocks bounced and swung from side to side.
Oh what a joy it was to own a slave!
Now she was really beginning to understand the pure delight of it.
And, despite all she had suffered at his hands, Melissa inwardly thanked Quentin for making it all possible for her.
The outfit that Melissa chose to wear for the evening to come was absolutely traditional. Why depart from that, she asked herself? It was composed of the finest, thinnest black leather. Even her brassiere and panties were made of the same material. There was a small bolero jacket, an exceedingly short pleated skirt and a pair of thigh-length boots with five-inch spike heels.
Nervously, Julia dressed her new Mistress in this dominatrix garb... wondering what it portended. She, of course, knew nothing as yet of the presence of the two young women in the chateau. She was thankful, merely, that Melissa seemed well content when she examined herself in a full-length mirror. Oh God, thought Julia, she does indeed now look like a true Mistress. Yet once Melissa had been a slave like herself. Incredible! A slap across her face brought Julia sharply back to the present.
“Don’t daydream, girl,” said Melissa, seating herself at her dressing table. “Comb out my hair... then set it up in a high style, using these pins... ”
Yes, Mistress... at once, Mistress”
What was a simple slap across the face? It was the very least a slave could expect. Assiduously, Julia began to brush out the thick, dark auburn hair which fell to shoulder length. Beautiful hair. It almost seemed alive as it bounced back and shook under her brush.
“Tonight,” said Melissa after a while, “you are going to set an example.”
Julia felt a twinge of apprehension. What did that mean?
“Yes... Mistress...”
“Do you know what that means, Julia?”
“N-No... not exactly... Mistress...”
“Think back, Julia. To the time when you were first introduced to slavery aboard the ‘Paradise’. When Ahmed was, doubtless, stripping you naked. Stripping you to the state in which, virtually, you have remained ever since. Was not an example made then?”
Julia’s mind, seeming to shudder, raced back to that nightmare experience. One never, never, to be forgotten. Yes... she did remember. There had been an example... . It had been the voluptuous, red-headed Jewess (Rebecca had been her name, she thought) led in on collar and chain by the negro Jason... led in like an a****l, naked and on all fours. Then it had been an unbelievable, nightmare spectacle. But, then, that was long ago. Today Julia would have thought nothing of it.
“Yes, Mistress,” she said in a low voice.
“Well, tonight, this is your role... ”
“I... understand, Mistress... ”
Melissa smiled into the mirror. “Yes... I bet you do,” she said. “By the way, Julia, I haven’t asked you about your return to the ‘Paradise’. How did that go?”
Julia’s features twitched, she shuddered convulsively. Melissa saw the reactions to her words and understood them very well. She saw, too, the effort of will and control Julia was making.
“I... I am g-grateful to my M-Mistress for... for... sending me back”... came the answer.
“Really?” Melissa’s eyebrows went up mockingly. She could imagine just how utterly appalling it must have been to return to that hell-ship. To all its never-ending horrors. To Madame Vesta, to Miss Judith, to Ahmed and Jason.
“Yes... M-Mistress,” said Julia in a choked voice, “f-for... I think it... it made me... a... more satisfactory s-slave than... than I was... ”
“Ahhhhh...” Melissa smiled again into the mirror, revelling in the look on Julia’s face. “Rumour has it, Julia, you were quite popular. Giving excellent performances for the guests. On the long table after dinner. Is that so?”
Again the twitch of the lovely features. And now the nervous tic in the cheek. “I...I don’t know, Mistress...”
“Don’t know?”
“I mean... I d-don’t know... if... if I was excellent, Mistress... ”
“Ahh... I see. Well, by all accounts you were. How do you like being fucked in public, Julia? Not to mention being bum-fucked and doing some cock-sucking as well?”
It was a difficult question for Julia, and Melissa knew it. There was a little pause. Julia bit her lip. “I... it was not for m-me... a s-slave, Mistress... to like or d-dislike. It is... my duty... to... to s-serve... and... and please... ”
“Quite right, Julia.” The question had been handled well. Melissa stood up, tall and commanding in her black leather outfit and highheeled boots. What a difference one’s clothing made, she reflected. She felt very much the dominatrix.
From out of a drawer, she took a jewel-studded dog-collar and a long, slim leash of leather.
“Down, Julia,” said Melissa. “On all fours.”
Immediately, Julia adopted the undignified crouching posture... not on hands and knees, but with hands to floor, knees only slightly bent and hindquarters raised up. Melissa put on the collar and buckled it. Then she clipped on the leash.
“Make you feel more like the bitch you are, does it, Julia?” asked Melissa.
For some reason, Julia did not take the question as one to be answered. More of a jibe than anything. So she remained silent. But it was not a rhetorical question, she quickly realised, when Melissa’s whalebone switch bit into her upraised buttocks.
“Insolence!” cried Melissa. “How dare you not answer me, slave!”
“Ahh... I... ahh... beg p-pardon, Mistress... ”
“Keep your bottom up...and keep it still!”
“Y-Yes... Mistress... yes...”
Four more times the switch slashed fiercely across Julia’s squirming bottom. Lucky, she thought, it is not something worse...
“Answer, slave!”
“Y-Yes... Mistress...yes... I f-feel a bitch... I am... am... a bitch... ”
Melissa grinned. “Keep that bottom up. There’s more to come.”
Five more strokes came in rapid succession, having Julia squirming down almost on to her knees.
“If there’s any more insolence of that nature,” said Melissa as she led Julia across the room on the lead, “you’ll feel the whip. Understood?”
“Yes... ahh... yes... Mistress... ”
Julia’s shapely, weal-striped bottom swayed from side to side as she moved on all fours; beneath her, her pendulous breasts swung. Melissa slipped the handle of the leash over a hook on the wall.
“You’ll stay here till you’re fetched, bitch,” she said.
Julia said nothing. That time it had not been a question. She gazed wretchedly down at the carpet, a few inches below her nose. She was aware not only of the indignity of her posture but of its discomfort. It was a discomfort that would get increasingly worse as time passed. Arms, legs and back would soon be aching abominably. Yet she knew she would not dare to move or alter her posture. That would have been direct disobedience of Melissa’s order.
And thus could earn her a sound whipping.
Julia blinked back her tears as she heard the door of Melissa’s suite close. Oh dear God, what a world of difference there now was between them!
What a universe of difference!
When once they had been so close. In misfortune.
Now I am alone, thought Julia.
Utterly alone in my misery and torment.
Soon the tears were flowing copiously.
After a while, they began to ebb. Then Julia began to remember she was, that evening, to be made an example of. Before whom, she wondered?
Poor, poor devil, she thought, whoever it is...
Their grimy appearance and general dishevelment could not hide the ripe yet girlish beauty of both Maria and Heidi. Quentin literally licked his lips when he first set eyes on them. Here, obviously, were two superb prizes he had won. Which he now owned. And which he could do as he liked with.
Both girls were flimsily clad, still wearing the clothes they had had on when the small yacht had unfortunately overturned, sinking them without trace. Maria had on a blue-check blouse and tight-fitting navy-blue jeans; Heidi had on a white blouse and a very brief pair of white shorts. Quentin’s eyes ran appreciatively over her golden brown legs. How girlishly soft and smooth they looked. Her whole body would look like that he thought, feeling a tingle of lust.
Hans and Cassim had just finished putting the senseless girls in chains... a task which they seemed to find quite agreeable. Both men were quite nude but for brief, tight white pouches, bulging almost fearsomely. These pouches seemed to emphasise the size and power of their masculinity.
Then Melissa came into the well-lit cellar, immediately followed by Zelda. Melissa carried a slim black riding switch, which she kept tapping against a boot. Zelda was also in black leather. However, she wore a blouse and tight-fitting trousers... these trousers tucking into calf-length boots. From her waist hung an eighteen-inch long strap. This was, one might say, a permanent part of her uniform.
“Well, well,” said Melissa, smiling happily at the chained figures, “They look even better than they did in their photographs.”
“Don’t they just,” grinned Quentin. “They’ve got some real shape for girls of their age.”
“Lovely big tits on this one,” said Melissa, indicating Heidi.
“And she’s the younger. Still, you can’t exactly fault the boobs of her sister.”
“True... true. Yes... I think we might say Madame Vesta has done us proud.”
Quentin seated himself in one of the two armchairs. “Bring them round, please Zelda,” he ordered.
“Yes, Sir... ”
The hard-faced woman with the almond eyes produced a syringe. At that moment she was looking far more Turkish than English. Hans and Cassim retired to the wall facing the two victims and stood impassive, with folded arms. Melissa walked slowly up and down while the reviving stimulant did its work. She was bubbling deep down with excitement.
After about a minute, both girls began to breathe faster and their eyelids were flickering. Then those eyes opened and they began to gaze around them in baffled surprise and disbelief.
Something like half an hour later, both girls were still in their chains and still fully clothed. Their cheeks were now stained with tears and there was a look of shock upon their features. On those of Heidi there was also a look of outraged fury.
Repeatedly and patiently, Melissa had explained the position to them.
They were lost to the world (she showed them newspaper accounts of their drowning).
They were now slaves (she showed them Quentin sitting silent and watchful - now their owner). She was their Mistress (and she flexed her supple switch menacingly). There were their guards and trainers (she indicated Zelda, Hans and Cassim).
In waves of varying intensity came the disbelieving protests.
The incredulous outrage.
The vituperative abuse.
On and on it went. But Melissa seemed quite unconcerned. There was all the time in the world, wasn’t there?
“Stop this ridiculous charade!”
“Release us at once... at once!”
“We demand... demand to see our father!”
“You’ll pay for this... my God you’ll pay for this!”
“How dare you... how dare you...”
“This is absurd... ”
“You must be mad... all of you!”
“It can’t be true... it can’t be!”
“I must be dreaming... I must be!”
On and on it went... .
“I think it’s about time we convinced them of the truth of matters,” said Quentin, eyes glowing quietly.
“I agree,” nodded Melissa. She signed to Hans and Cassim. “Strip them both naked, please...”
The incredulous shrieks reached a new pitch as the two husky brutes advanced, muscles rippling. Chains clanked and rattled as the two girls twisted and turned and tried to back away.
“NO... OOOOOO!”
“NO... OOOOOO!”
Cassim stepped before the blond Heidi, Hans before the dark-haired Maria.
“DON’T TOUCH ME.”
YOU... YOU CAN’T... YOU MUSTN’T!”
Cassim’s finger hooked into Heidi’s white blouse, Hans’ finger hooked into Maria’s checked one.
“NO... OOOO... OOOOHH... STOOO... OPPPP!”
“Agh... NO... AGH... NO... OOO... AAAAGGHHH... NO... OOOOOO!”
Rip...
Rip...
Down to each slim waist. Revealing flimsy white-net brassieres. Brassieres that were heaving to bursting point.
Rip...
Rip...
Lovely young breasts swinging and bouncing wildly.
Naked and free.
Fulsome breasts.
Heidi’s, with coral-pink nipples, the slightly larger... Maria’s nipples rather darker, orbs superbly rounded...
Both pairs thrusting firm, scorning the need for support.
Quentin licked his lips again. Yes... he had some luscious fruit to enjoy.
The shrieks, the protests, the abuse, had reached new peaks of intensity and volume.
“b**stS! VILE b**stS!”
“MONSTERS... STOP IT... OH... STOP IT... ”
Cassim’s finger hooked in the top of Heidi’s shorts, Hans’ finger hooked in the top of Maria’s jeans.
“NO... OOO... YOU CAN’T!”
“OH GOD... NO... OOOOO!”
Rip... rip . .
Rip... rip... rip...
Away came Heidi’s brief shorts... away came Maria’s tight jeans. Revealing little white-net panties. Revealing smooth girlish flesh... Heidi pale gold, Maria ivory white. Revealing curvaceous shapeliness... revealing lissom young bodies... .
“NOO...OOOOOOOOOO!”
“NO...OOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Rip...
Rip...
The last little bits of covering came away...
Maria and Heidi were stark naked... threshing wildly and shrieking hysterically in their chains. There was a constant tumult of juddering girl-flesh, upon which Quentin feasted his eyes. As did Hans and Cassim from closer range.
One blond triangle... one dark triangle. Both neat, short-haired and downy-soft.
Zelda’s hard features were impassive, but her almond eyes were glittering brightly.
Melissa was smiling an unabashed sadistic smile. She knew just what a frenzy of emotions was driving the girls to this state of near-hysteria.
And it was all very understandable.
The shock of slavery could not yet be fully absorbed. Or, even, be properly understood.
But the shock of being stripped naked could!
“Now do you believe me?” she enquired above the shrieking sounds.
But the shrieking sounds only continued... seemingly ever-louder. With a shrug, Melissa turned away.
“Gag them,” she said to Hans and Cassim, “they’re beginning to give me a headache.”
The two assistants moved to obey...
Tammi
- 04.03.2022
- 44
- 0
