This chapter doesn't contain as much sex as most chapters do, for reasons which become obvious. It does have oral, anal, lesbian and normal sex, some bondage and spanking. COVID and STD's don't exist in this particular fantasy world. My thanks to JohnnyGalt for his editorial assistance. While it may appear so from the ending, this is not the final chapter of Beth's story, though it is approaching.
My Descent into Slavery, Ch 19
A Side Trip
My sleep was interrupted several times during the night, to put the cream on my piercings and tattoo. I'd gone through the same drill after my surgery, so it wasn't an issue, Sahar happy to do it. I sucked off Master and licked my sweetie to a couple orgasms before breakfast. She used the glass phallus to get me off as a form of pain relief, in addition to the cream.
We weighed anchor after breakfast heading to San Diego, and we'd be there in roughly seven hours, in no particular hurry since Master had no meeting until tomorrow. I told Master that Angela had volunteered to be a surrogate for the slaves to essentially punish their previous owners.
"Will it be safe?"
"We discussed it at the last group. A lot of the slaves were thinking cane, whip or stingray barb to begin with, but they all pretty much agreed that we wouldn't break skin. Sahar will be there to ensure things don't get out of hand. Kadina has picked out the place in the playroom where she wishes to do it, but you've never used it on me, so I wished to see how it was used beforehand."
"Show me."
We went into the playroom and showed him the wall mount Kadina had shown me. Sahar trailed, interested.
"Interesting choice," Master said. "Someone must have used it on her as it's not immediately obvious how it's used."
"How is it used, and why haven't you used it on me, Master?"
"I liked my punishments and fuckings to be conducted in public, and I don't have a mobile version of this. It has to be used with suspension cuffs."
"Show me, sir, so I can ensure Kadina uses it correctly."
Master put suspension cuffs on my wrists and ankles, then attached the wrist cuffs to the two hooks in the wall, which were a little more than two shoulder widths apart. He then lifted my ankles up, fastening the ankle cuffs to the same hooks, which meant my ankles were above my head and two shoulder widths apart, my pussy and ass exposed, hanging like a slab of meat. The only parts of me touching the wall were my arms and the top of my back and head. It would be a good punishment position with the backs of my thighs, buttocks and pussy all exposed and open. Even the soles of my feet could be switched.
Sahar took a look at me and said, "The only reason I'd ever consider Dominating you is to put you in positions like this. That is so fucking sexy, I want to eat you. Too bad your cunt if off limits."
"And I want to fuck her," Master said. "Cunt or ass, both are available. I'd never stopped to consider this position before. Expect that when I meet back with you in Peru, I will hang you here and fuck you."
"I'm getting her toy. I am going to fuck her," Sahar said. "This is too good to pass up."
She ran off. Master ran his hand up and down my wide spread thighs. Just being hung there had caused my pussy to juice, I was dripping by the time Sahar got back.
"What a slut," she said, laughing.
Sahar inserted the glass dildo up my soggy snatch and started fucking me with it. Master started pinching and tweaking my nipples. They were essentially double teaming me and I went into sensory overload, cumming, none of it with Master's permission. That presented no problem at all. He found something he could paddle my heinie with, while leaving my piercings protected and punished me for my brazen sluttiness, which only increased my feelings of submission. I enjoyed myself a lot.
"I wouldn't hang Angela here until she's done healing," Master said. "If a bunch of freed slaves who've never done this before started whacking on whatever is exposed, some unintentional damage would be done."
I had to agree with his assessment. Master had assiduously avoided striking me anywhere he shouldn't. It also reminded me I hadn't seen the markings the other slaves had received. I was holding group this afternoon, and perhaps I could inveigle them into showing me.
They released me and Sahar took me down to the gym, to at least walk, and or run, whatever I could tolerate. The piercing in my clitoral hood did keep me aroused, as it rubbed against my clitoris with any movement. Sahar worked with Kadina some more, teaching her to be more deadly. After a workout and shower, I downloaded the results of the surveys done at Bill's and Brianna's, while I made Sahar take out some of her art supplies and start sketching.
Not surprisingly, Julia and Brianna were switches, Brianna the more dominant switch of the two. More surprising, Michelle Ombre, Mistress Dark was also a switch on the Dominant side. I could tell from the numbers of people they regularly Dominated. Julia had one slave, Mistress Dark two, and Brianna two dozen. If you know the people who take it, it's not totally anonymous.
******
Angela didn't attend group with Kadina today. She wasn't really an ex-slave, and being a submissive doesn't really require treatment. Yasmine showed me the tattoo, she'd gotten from BjΓΆrn. There were three Norse runes on her pubic mound. One stood for fertility, since she was trying to get pregnant. It was centered over her cleft. To the right of it (left as viewed by me) was the rune for protection, and on the left, the side of her heart, was the rune for love. BjΓΆrn had gotten the love and protection runes himself, protection on his right arm, love on his left, to match hers, signifying she was under his protection and beloved by him. She said that BjΓΆrn would give her a nice floral design on her back after she had it repaired. Her nipples and labia were pierced, simple captive hoops in her nipples, but with what looked like a diamond in the center inserted in each captive bead.
"Is that diamonds?" I asked.
"Yes, like a wedding ring for a slave," Yasmine proclaimed.
The women all admired them. I don't care where women came from, they liked jewelry, and sparkling was never bad. Her labial piercing was a small hoop through the flesh, with a flower shaped medallion hanging from it. All it said was "Beloved by BjΓΆrn".
"Is that a Jasmine flower?" Sahar asked.
"Yes to match my name," she said happily.
I showed everyone the tattoo I'd received, and told them Sahar had designed it. They appreciated the symbolism as much as I did. I told them the jewelry was place holders for what Master intended for me to wear after I healed.
I didn't see Angela's tattoo, because she wasn't present, but Kadina indicated it was the Arabic words for love slave. She said she had been pierced in the nipples and labia as well, though not what they were.
"You'll see them," she said. "She will always be naked."
We spent a good part of the group talking about Kadina's feelings for Angela and what she should do about it, considering lesbian love was forbidden in the Muslim faith. It was pertinent because Kadina had announced her love at Bill's, finally admitting she was in love with her slave. All of the former slaves were Muslim except for Fatima, Hannah, Jìngyi and myself. The four non-Muslims were letting the Muslim women hash it out, because it was a question of faith, and obedience to Allah's will. Sahar had been somewhat silent as well, for the simple reason she'd mostly abandoned the faith, but didn't want her own agnosticism to influence the others religious beliefs.
"What do you think, Sahar?" Kadina asked.
"You know what I think," Sahar replied. "I'm married to a woman. I don't know if that means I'm going to hell or not, but I would rather live a life with love in it, than one without. If I burn for my sins, so be it."
"Love is fleeting. Life is fleeting. What is one lifetime of love against an eternity in hell?" Kadina asked.
"I spent four years in hell when I was alive. It was an eternity. If Allah would seek to make it worse than I've already lived, I cannot comprehend what hell is. You spent four years getting your back beaten bloody. You were raped repeatedly. How much worse can hell be? I feel I've served my time in hell, and it's time I got something back from Allah. I did get something back from him. I got the love of a woman I love more than life itself. I was dead inside. I hoped for one tiny petal of love, one spark of emotion, one drop of hope. I hoped she might love me as much as the dust on her shoe. Instead, I've received a lifetime of joy and happiness from someone put in my life to change it. To give me that, then tell me I can't have it is cruel beyond measure. If that is what Allah expects of me, I reject Him.
"But I don't believe He does. I believe Allah filled my heart with love for this other woman, my Beth, that he filled her heart with love for me. It was his gift to me for what I suffered. If it is a gift from Allah, then I don't want to reject it because of the words written by men in dusty old books. I choose to accept this gift of love and let it bring me joy, and grace, and love, and even forgiveness. I'm learning to forgive myself and forgive others. When I was freed, I hated everyone, including myself. This gift I've been given, has changed my life, has given me my life back. As far as I'm concerned, that can't be a sin."
I started crying. It was so beautifully expressed. I felt that I was blessed. I wanted to fuck her so bad. Why did I have to be marked now? As if I wouldn't want to fuck her any other time I had it done. Half of the group hugged me, and half of them hugged Sahar. Then, I crashed into her, almost knocking her to the deck, smothering her in kisses. Fuck it, if I was still supposed to be running a group. I was still healing too, and I needed it.