Journey

Christina spent the next few months learning her role as slave from both Naomi and her Master Joseph. Although Naomi was her sister slave, she had quickly started to think of her as her true sister in every sense of the word. She felt like she had known her for years and there closeness was something that transcended blood and family. She had also come to think of Joseph as her Master in all things. Even though she wasn't collared and he didn't refer to her as his slave or his girl. She had left her old life behind choosing to stay with him and he provided everything for her. Clothes, food, shelter, discipline, family; these were his and he chose to share them with her.

Her time in her Master's household was a blur of physical and mental exhaustion with aura of sexual frustration. She spent her days shadowing Naomi and learning the day to day routines of keeping up the house; cleaning, shopping, cooking, laundry, the list went on and on. She had no idea the amount of work that went into daily maintenance.

Her nights were spent watching her sister being sessioned by their Master and learning the "whys" and "hows" of things. She wasn't quite sure why he was imparting his knowledge on her but she appreciative of the learning and basked in his attentions. After her first week, it had become her responsibility to administer Naomi's aftercare. These were the times she felt closest to her. She would clean her wounds, tend her bruises, lotion her entire body, and then wrap them both in a blanket to keep her warm and feeling safe. Naomi would fall asleep in her arms as she stroked her hair and told her how amazing she was and how happy their Master was of her.

One evening after setting up the "Red Room", as she had come to affectionately call it, sitting naked in the ready position waiting next to the Saint Andrew's cross; her Master approached, lifted her chin to look deep into her eyes and simply said "Follow". She came to her feet in one fluid motion and followed her Master, eyes downcast, into the living room. She was curious but not afraid or disappointed in any way. She knew her Master would explain the change of routine when he was ready.

She quickly took in her surroundings without raising her eyes. The room was lit with candles and the air blew warmer than was usual in this part of the house. Naomi, dressed in her best slave shift, knelt beside the large black couch that dominated the central sitting area. The ottomans and coffee table had been removed and a single overstuffed black chair sat facing the couch. He stopped in the middle of the living room next to the chair and she came and knelt at his feet.

"You've been in my house for a little over three months. In that time I've allowed you to learn our daily routines. I've taught you how to deliver pain and how to care for it after. My girl has taught you the proper way to receive pain and punishment. I have done these things for your betterment and I will continue to do so until I feel you are ready to be on your own. Tonight we will take another step toward you being officially accepted into My house." her Master said in his deep smooth voice.

Her heart skipped a beat. Was she finally going to be collared and made His? Naomi had hinted about her collaring ceremony but never gave her any specifics on what she could expect. Was this hers? Her excitement grew until His voice penetrated her thoughts and brought her back to the here and now.

"This is not your collaring ceremony, as much as you may wish it were. You are not ready for that distinction my pet."

Her heart sank a little but she trusted in His judgment that it was for the best.

"Tonight", he continued, "you are going to learn about you and who you really are. One more step toward being whole." He motions toward her sister and she is suddenly there next to her offering her a glass of what looks like water.

"Drink" he commands.

She takes the glass from Naomi and sips from it. It tasted like water flavored with lemon and honey. Not being told to stop, she quickly finishes the entire glass.

"Very good. Now lie down on the couch on your back."

She crawls to the couch on all fours and climbs up onto it doing as she was commanded. The leather is cool on her naked skin but not uncomfortably cold, and quickly warms to her body temperature. She watches as Naomi sets out small round wooden board between the couch and the chair and proceed to setup a hookah on it. She has seen hookahs before and had even seen her Master use one on rare occasions but she had never used one herself.

Naomi finished the setup by placing a lit coal on the tinfoil covering the tobacco and withdrew out of sight. She watched as her Master moved into view and took a seat in the chair across from her. She lay there for a few minutes watching the charcoal turn grey. Her Master finally reached down, picked up the hookah pipe, and took a few long draws to get the smoke going and the pipe primed. The smoke he exhaled smelled of jasmine and mint to her.

After a few more moments of silence she felt the tip of a pipe pressed to her lips. Naomi must have been sitting there out of sight wait her Master's instructions. She took a draw from the pipe not really know what to expect. Warm smooth smoke filled her mouth and lungs. She exhaled the smoke, never feeling the need to cough, which left the jasmine and mint flavor in her mouth and an even stronger smell of it in her nose. The whole process was quite pleasant and very relaxing.

"Close your eyes and relax" her Master's deep smooth voice covered her like a blanket.

His words were a command that she couldn't fight even if she wanted to. Her eyes automatically closed and she felt herself begin to relax. Another three drags from the hookah pipe and muscles she didn't even know were tight began to loosen. She sank further into the couch as His voice soothed her.

"I want you to think. Back to a time before you moved to this city. Try to remember what your life was like. Focus on sounds around you, smells, what you were wearing or holding. Remember..."

*****_____*****

A pain in her forearm forced her eyes open. She looked down to see that the priest had finished tattooing the mark of her owner just above the inside of her wrist. A yank from the leather leash attached to her collar and she was moving. Her bare feet padded across sun baked stone following the bronzed broad shoulders of her owner. Leash in hand, he lead her toward the fighting pits. It was solstice so the celebrations drew people from the surrounding countryside for miles. The press of bodies in the city permeated the air with the thick smell of sweat and dirt. As they neared the pits she caught the aroma of the burning censures that helped mask the smell of people and blood but couldn't completely hide it.

They arrived at the top of the pit with the main attraction already underway. As they descended the narrow steps she looked around at the mass of people standing and sitting on the wide steps cut into the earth surrounding the pit. The steps were long and wide easily accommodating the thong of people gathered to witness the spectacles, unlike the steps of the temples which were long but narrow forcing you to crawl up the steps to reach the top.

Her owner led her down to the first tier just above the fighting arena, a place reserved for the fiercest warriors. As he led her through the throng of his fellows, her bare breasts and ass were groped everyone they passed including some other slaves. Having her body on display was humiliating but something she had grown accustom to in her weeks of servitude. Although naked, the people around her weren't wearing much more. The free men and women of all castes wore loincloths and jade jewelry, nothing else. It was barbaric to her yet she could understand the necessity due to the severe and oppressive heat in this region.

The groping thankfully stopped as they neared their place in the front row. He pulled her in front of him and held her close as they watched the end of the current match, two leopards facing off against a single warrior. She knew this was the final test for the warrior before being allowed to join the elite rank of warriors bearing the same name and claw-like brands; the Jaguars. Her owner was one such warrior and a leader among them. He was fierce and proud and she felt him growing hard at the spectacle. She knew what would be coming soon.

The warrior was able to take down one of the great cats but took a nasty swipe in the right thigh from the other in the process. Despite the injury, things were looking well for the warrior until his leg gave out from under him during a critical spear thrust. Missing his target allowed the cat took advantage of the weakness, lung and clamp it's powerful jaws around his throat. The jaguar was herded out of the pit and thrown the body of the fallen warrior as a reward for a job well done. The ranks of the Jaguars were small for a reason. Her owner's hard thick member pressed against her back almost painfully.

Twelve men were ushered into the pit and given weapons. They looked to be Spaniards from their metal breastplates and distinctive helms. She knew their dress but couldn't understand what they were saying any more than her owner's people could. Two Jaguar warriors entered the pit to face off against them. Twelve against two but she knew the odds were not in the Spaniards' favor. The Spaniards were the first to attack and lost two of their number before even reaching the other side of the pit. The odds were definitely not in their favor.

As the fight progressed her owner grew more and more excited. Eventually grabbing her waist in one hand and the back of her neck in the other and forcing her to bend over. His think hard cock forced its way inside her with no preparation. The pain was excruciating but not wholly unpleasant. He grabbed both her wrists forcing her arms to the side and behind her causing a pain and pressure in her biceps and shoulders. He used her arms as leverage to force her away and then back as he slammed his cock into her cunt, pounding her cervix with each thrust.

He was not unkind in his use of her but he wasn't gentle either. He took what he wanted when he wanted. Right now that was her. She had started to get used to his forceful methods during her weeks with him. He was slow to climax and refused to ready any of her holes before making use of them. Her thoughts scattered as his cock drove into her again and again. Minutes passed and she felt pressure building in her swollen cunt. She was going to cum soon and she wasn't going to be able to stop it. Again and again he slid in and out, her inflamed pussy lips rubbing up and down the entire length of his cock with each thrust. The pressure built.

She suddenly felt something wet hit her face and vaguely realized it was the blood of someone being decapitated in the pit before them just as her owner grunted and slammed his cock into her a final time before releasing his seed. The sensations overcame her and the resulting orgasm was so hard it caused her to buck like a wild horse. Each motion causing her to ride up and down her owner's hard cock causing another smaller orgasm. She screamed her pain and pleasure the entire time. The cycle was vicious but short lived.

He suddenly released her arms letting her fall to the ground. She was barely able to catch herself with her strained arms and shoulders suddenly being allowed to move. She cried out as her knees and elbows hit the hard packed earth. She rolled onto her side and felt her owner's cum, and she was sure a little blood, leaking from between her legs. She lay there not wanting to move and watched as the last of the Spaniards were slaughtered in the pit. Very poor odds indeed, the Jaguar warriors were almost wholly untouched.

Years passed in a blurry flash. Her owner was not cruel to her but he was quick to punish when she needed to learn a lesson. She wore her scars as badges of honor, of reminders of lessons well learned. She knew he cared for her deeply because he didn't share her with anyone else. Something that couldn't be said about most other slaves and didn't sit well with most of his brethren. He had killed four warriors that thought he was being selfish and tried to take her from him. She was his and his alone.

Her skin had bronzed from the years spent in the sun. She wore a loincloth decorated with her owner's sigil and jade jewelry adorned her ears, wrists, and ankles. She still wore her collar but no longer required a leash. Her owner was still a Jaguar and still a leader but he was aging. His wits and experience kept him alive and coming back to her more than his strength and agility did these days. She had grown to respect and love her owner in ways she never thought possible. Her life and happiness were bound in her servitude for him.

She was walking behind her owner down a narrow street heading home after the celebration of a good hunt and raid on a neighboring village, when he suddenly staggered to the side. Startled she rushed to his side and grabbed his arm to help steady him. He shoved her away as four men rushed him from smaller connecting streets. She watched helplessly as they came at him with clubs and obsidian knives. As he fought his attackers she got to her feet and turned to run, in hopes of finding someone to help.

Her way was blocked by a large man with skin so dark it was almost black. He swung a club faster than she could react and caught her across the side of her head. She hit the ground in a daze and couldn't get up. She watched and the large man strode into the fray against her owner. His heavy club shattered her owner's knees forcing him to cry out, something she never thought she would hear. The two remaining men quickly jumped on his back and bound his hands behind his back, forcing his face into the dirt.

They were both carried to a pit in the warriors sector of the city where three dozen men, all Jaguars, stood waiting. Her and her owner were deposited in the middle of the pit as the large man began telling the others how he defeated her owner in single combat and that the other two men would witness and attest to that fact. When questioned about their wounds and other missing men, they told the gathered throng how her owner refused to submit and attacked the other men in a desperate attempt to escape his fate.

She lay on the ground looking only at her owner not hearing the lies and accusations against the man she had come to love with every fiber of her being. The talking suddenly stopped and she felt a hand tangle in her hair and roughly drag her to her feet. The large man tore off her jewels and loincloth and threw her back to the ground. She felt his rough hand on the back of her neck as he forced her face into the ground and mounted her. He was larger than her owner but his cock was not, she took it in stride which seemed to anger him so he punched her in the side of her face with his free hand.

He suddenly pulled out and shoved his cock into her ass, forcing a scream from her throat. One of her eyes was swelling but she could still see the other two men forcing her owner to watch as she was taken by the large man. When he was finished with her he invited others to come down and do the same. Three dozen men had their way with her in every way imaginable, many of them coming in sets of two or three. At one point she was held between two men as a third punched her in the stomach and ribs. She was covered in cuts, bruises, and bite marks. All of her holes were ragged and bleeding. One eye was swollen shut, her nose was broken and at least a half dozen of her teeth were knocked out.

As the last man finished with her throwing her to the ground and following it up with a kick to her midsection, she looked over with her one good eye to see that they had cut off the eyelids of her owner; forcing him to watch the entire process. His eyes never left hers as the large man held his head up and drew his blade. As the knife slid across his throat a single tear escaped his eyes and he mouthed "I love you."

What they had done to her was nothing. She was a tool to be used as others saw fit, in any and every way. She had no thoughts of her own, no drives or desires of her own. What she had was the love of her owner. As she watched the light die in his eyes something broke within her. She surged to her knees and screamed her rage to the heavens.

She came around to her own screaming. Spent she sagged to the ground tired and gasping for breath. Hot tears burned down her cheeks stinging her cuts. The sudden silence struck her like a hammer. Looking around she heard no one. Saw no one. Only her and her owner's body remained. She dragged her battered body to his and held his head in her arms weeping. As she lay there bleeding out, she was surrounded by the thick cloying smell of the censures, jasmine and mint. Before she lost consciousness she was left with only two thoughts. Her owner loved her. And a civilization just died.

*****_____*****

Christina bolted upright gasping for air. She was naked and covered in sweat. As her mind came back to the here and now, she could hear her Master talking to her.

"Easy. Easy my angel. You're safe no one is going to hurt you."

She could feel Naomi's hand in hers and took comfort from that. She knew she was shaking but she couldn't tell if it was from being cold or from the experience she just had.

"What just happened?" she asked.

"I gave you a mixture of muscle relaxants and a mild hallucinogenic to help your process of remembering. You've just recovered a lost memory my angel, and that was just the beginning" her Master informed her.

She was taken to bed and cleaned up by Naomi. They lay together just holding each other, Naomi allowing her to just draw strength from here presence and knowledge that she was not alone. She felt her Master curl up behind her as he whispered in her ear:

"I'm so very proud of you my angel. You made great strides tonight and took it so very well."

She fell asleep in their arms and dreamed of her Master's face in the face of her owner as he lay dying.