Lost in Lisbon

This is a spin-off of Sofia's story, the teacher sentenced to 7 years of slavery and 500 lashes for negligent homicide. The story unfolds in contemporary Portugal, but in an alternate reality where slavery and corporal punishment replace fines and prison. These events follow those described in "Back to Skool". While it's not essential to read all my works, I'd appreciate it if you did.

Initially, this part could have been a continuation of the "Back to Skool" series or, as I decided, the "Lost in Lisbon" series. I chose the latter since Carla will be a main character and the action in the third part will take place in her house. I've also strived to curb my tendency for excessive description.

All characters engaging in sexual activities are at least 18 years old at the time of the events.

I've grown fond of these characters, perhaps because they're based on real people or amalgams of them. The story seems to take on a life of its own, leading me to write things I hadn't planned, which likely means it will have more parts than I originally intended.

Thank you for the time you've spent reading. Your comments, critiques, and inputs are extremely important to me. As this is my first attempt at writing in English, I would greatly appreciate any feedback from readers.

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Carla Prezado POV

For a moment, I went back to 2002 to being an 18-year-old girl. Back when Sofia was the one looking out for me. Sometimes, I wished I could go back to being a simple neighbourhood hairdresser, spending Saturday mornings painting nails at my mother's salon and counting change for a night out with friends. Those were the days when tips were my only source of income. But now, as I led my best friend to lunch, the roles were reversed. I was the one taking care of her.

The Sakura was in a building on the banks of the Tagus River, next to the Atlantic Pavilion, the huge concert hall that looked like a UFO and was created to be the main performance hall of Expo 98.

The restaurant was on the first floor, it was a square room with glass walls that allowed customers to observe both the Tagus River and the buildings of the riverside area. We were both greeted by a young woman with Asian features, but she was not Japanese, unlike the chef. She looked at Sofia for a few seconds and then turned all of her attention to me, and only to me, a second look at her revealed the reason, the waitress also wore a slave collar around her neck.

"Do you have a reservation, madam?" The small waitress asked me.

"No. We don't have a reservation, we'd like a table for two, with a view of the river if possible." I made a point of using the plural when requesting the table.

"Yes, we have one, corner table, private table." The waitress pointed to one of four tables that had a partition and formed a cubicle, each corner of the room had one of these tables.

We both sat in the cubicle, Sofia smiled sadly. "You know, it was at this table that Miguel and I had sex for the first time."

I returned the smile. "Do you want me to ask to change the table?"

"No, here is a good place, it's a good memory, it could be a bad one but Miguel, he's a good man." I sensed some hurt in her voice.

"You know Lisbon is covered in memories, do you remember the Scorpions concert?" The memory came back to my mind.

"Yes, we missed the last bus..." I said. What would Sofia remember from that night?

"...And then the police picked us up," Sofia recalled. "They gave us a ride home. You threw up on that young officer when he was helping you out of the car. Did he arrest you?"

"No, but I did end up in handcuffs," I replied with a wry smile. "Manuel Barata, he was a nice guy. I wonder how he's doing now? He was a good lover too. Pity his wife found out."

"talking about your love life, I have a gift to you from a young admirer." Sofia got a box of chocolates from her purse.

"Chocolates-Regina, with hazelnuts, oh! And with a letter from Vasco," I said, tucking away the box and the letter. The waitress approached and took our order. Sofia, being the expert in Japanese food,

ordered the BlackShip, a platter of sushi and sashimi that resembled a Portuguese man-of-war.

"The boy is enamored with you Carla, be careful not to break his heart. He has become a great aid." Sofia was a mother to his pupils, she would have been a great mother.

"I should remind you that you sent him to me," I said with a mischievous glint in my eye. "Don't worry though. If I break anything, it won't be his heart. Vasco is a dear sweet boy, and he'll emerge a better man in more ways than one."

My reputation for favoring younger companions was well-earned but misunderstood. I saw it as a mutually beneficial arrangement, they gained valuable experience, while I enjoyed their company and sexual vitality. I took pride in teaching these boys to become better at sex, turning them into good lovers caring and attentive. I was advancing the feminist cause, one man at a time. Sex is a better way to make good caring men.

"Sofia, how are you getting on with your owner? I didn't expect you to adapt so well to your new situation." Sofia had been one of the victims of bad lovers. The fact that she had won the genetic lottery meant that she had been targeted by fools jerks and incompetents until she became unavailable for love.

"Miguel is a good man. He treats me better than I expected, but I am his slave, not his wife. It's much better than prison, I suppose, and I have to atone for my crime." I wondered about the details, Sofia was visibly changed even in her physical appearance.

"Can I get the juicy details, the really naughty stuff? I was curious, the voyeur in me was roaming free.

Sofia hesitated, "I didn't expect it to be like this. When I asked Miguel to accept me as his judicial slave, instead of prison, I thought I'd just be trading one hell for another. But it's... different. The sex, for example... I always saw sex as a duty, you know? Especially as a slave. But with Miguel, it's... sensuous. And I feel guilty for enjoying it, crave it."

I listened, astonished. I knew Sofia had great difficulties with her body; many beautiful women feel the same way. "Would you prefer that he treated you badly and that sex was unpleasant?" I asked. For me, it was inconceivable that a woman wouldn't feel pleasure during sex.

"No! But sometimes I feel... I don't know, he's not what I expected. He likes to show off my body, to provoke other men, and also to see how embarrassed I get. But then he's also highly protective and generous, and I...I think I shouldn't always be longing for him to touch me." I could hear the anguish and guilt in Sofia's voice, but also the desire when she referred to Miguel.

"And what does he say?" I thought it was wonderful that Sofia was finally experiencing sexual pleasure, it was a subject we had avoided over the years. I had only spoken in person with Sofia's owner once, but I had been left with a good impression. All subsequent deals had been by phone or email.

"He said, sex is part of the deal, he would like it to be a good thing and not a punishment, and also that a slave has no past nor future, that I live in the present, and that if I can get some pleasure I should do It."It was wise advice. Miguel was proving to be a very wise man in my eyes.

"My dear, I think he's quite right, especially if he's concerned about giving you pleasure. Your enjoyment is likely a part of his own satisfaction. Most men don't know how to please a woman, or worse, they don't care to learn." I found myself wondering how exciting it would be to meet Miguel in person.

"I understand what you're saying, but it's not that simple. But I'm here to be punished, not to enjoy myself. Every time I feel desire for Miguel, every time I crave his touch, I wonder if I'm really atoning for what I did."

"Look, your atonement doesn't have to be all bad. You've got a chance to really make a difference with your students, haven't you? And it's not like you're getting off scot-free - there's all those little daily humiliations and punishments from Miguel. Plus, don't forget about those 500 lashes still hanging over your head. Even spread out, that's no walk in the park. Oh, and let's not forget that every penny you earn goes straight to your owner. It's hardly a cushy deal, is it?" The waitress had arrived with or food as she was serving, the food and drinks, Sofia told her.

"Sister, my friend here would like to try on your kimono. Could you lend it to her?"

The slave waitress was speechless, and I was surprised as well, but I didn't say anything. Why on earth would I want to try on a waitress's kimono?

She hesitated, her gaze darting between Sofia and me. "I... I'm not sure if I'm allowed to..." she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sofia's tone hardened slightly. "It wasn't a request, sister. Please, remove your kimono."

The waitress's shoulders slumped in resignation. With trembling hands, she began to untie her red and white fake silk kimono, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I watched, feeling a mix of curiosity and discomfort as the fabric slipped away, revealing her body.

The waitress was thin, and her entire body was covered in bruises, especially on her buttocks and breasts. I was shocked and embarrassed; it was an ugly reality.

"Sister, what was your crime? May I ask you?" Sofia's voice was calm and compassionate.

"I stole money from customers. The boss found out and I was sentenced to five years in prison or two years of slavery. Mr. Iroku was generous to let me stay here and work." She was ashamed, her eyes on the ground.

I was speechless, the waitress was a thief, and her punishment, harsh as it seemed, was justified. Yet here was Sofia, who had committed manslaughter, accidental yes, but still a more serious crime, living a comparatively easier life. While this waitress's body was covered in bruises, Sofia was going to the hairdresser and enjoying a fine meal. I could understand Sofia's guilt. I gave the waitress her kimono back and she left in silence.

"I understand you, but life is not fair nor just. There is no good to be found in dwelling on certain thoughts. The boy you killed is not coming back to life if you..." I paused, looking into her eyes with empathy and resolve. "...if you deny yourself any chance at happiness or pleasure. Just be thankful that you are not owned by the likes of Mr. Iroku."

"I suppose you are right, I just have to live in the moment, acceptance that may be a way." She was not all convinced, but It was a good start.

"Hug me, Carla hug me tight. I love you so much." She smiled, a sad smile and I hugged her as hard as I could, we stood like that for a minute or so.

"I love you too. You can always count on me." I gave her a soft kiss on the lips, feeling closer to Sofia than ever. I pulled back and gently brushed a tear from her cheek. "Now, let's enjoy our meal," I said, smiling. "We both deserve it."

As I reached for my chopsticks, Sofia's hand caught mine. Her touch was hesitant.

"The last time you kissed me was in the gym shower, right after Miguel took possession of me. You always sense when I need love, when I'm feeling down. Will you always be there like this?" Her eyes met mine, filled with a mix of vulnerability and something else.

"Sofia, I will always be here for you. Our bond... is special."  I said, she took a deep breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Carla, I... I love you. I know it's wrong, I know I shouldn't feel this way... these feelings... they're wrong." Feelings are never wrong or right, feelings just are. I held Sofia's hand and looked directly into her eyes.

"You're not wrong, and your feelings aren't wrong." Sofia stood up and kissed me, this time not a kiss of friendship or neediness, but a kiss of passion. A passion I didn't know Sofia had.

"What have I done? I... I'm not a lesbian... are you?" Sofia pulled away from me with the same fervour with which she had kissed me moments before.

"No, I am not a lesbian, why would I be? We don't need to be lesbians to love each other. Do you love me?" I asked her. I loved her in silence for many years, she was the only constant relationship in my life. I never thought Sofia could ever be anything more than a good friend. When I kissed her in the gym, it was an impulse - she was needy and scared, and we kissed, and despite us being naked, nothing sexual crossed my mind at the time, and I'm almost certain it didn't for Sofia either.

"I don't know. I've never felt this for anyone, a desire to be with you, to feel you, it's different, It's not like with Miguel. With him, I know I'll feel pleasure and I want to feel that pleasure. With you, I... I just want... I shouldn't have said anything." For someone as repressed as Sofia, these feelings must be overwhelming. I myself felt similar apart from the guilt of course. Her becoming a slave, and particularly to someone as sexual as Miguel, must have been liberating for her but it also created a new set of problems.

"I understand you perfectly. I've had these feelings for a long time, but I've always repressed them, fearing it might change our friendship. We have time. Let's eat our sushi and drink our sake, and then we'll see." I desired to kiss her again, but instead, I placed a piece of salmon on my chopsticks and offered it to her mouth.

"Carla, kiss me here and now, even if it's wrong it's what I feel. As Miguel says, slaves have no past or future, now is the present." I kissed her, tasting the soy sauce, and also the flavor of passion. This time Sofia was fully present; the guilt had disappeared, the fear had disappeared, and only she was there.

"Humm! Stop! I can't breathe, I'm shaking all over, you're fire, let me breathe." I caught my breath, took a sip of sake. I breathed deeply and placed Sofia's hand on my chest, "Are you trying to kill me? You're a red-haired devil." My heart was pounding as if I had run a 100-meter sprint.

"What ails you is hunger. Here, eat this." Sofia laughed and gave me a sushi roll. The passionate way I had kissed Sofia was a new experience even for me. I could only imagine what Sofia felt; I had never seen her so uninhibited.

"The hunger I have is for you," I told her. She smiled and began to unbutton her blouse, exposing her white breasts with brown areolas. I bit my lips, "Unfortunately, it's a hunger I'll have to endure for a few more hours. I don't want to make love to you in a restaurant."

"I don't know if I can hold back, but I'll try." Sofia was about to start buttoning up her blouse.

"Don't! Let me see your body, let me enjoy your beauty. Our beauty." I took off my shirt and bra, and Sofia imitated me. My breasts were larger than Sofia's, but we were both beautiful. My tanned skin contrasted with Sofia's milky white complexion. "What would your owner say if he saw us here like this?"

"I know perfectly well what he would say: nothing. He's a quiet man. But I also know what he would do." Sofia laughed as she placed a strip of salmon on top of her left breast, the red salmon contrasting with her white skin, and offered it to me. I let my tongue savour  both morsels.

"Miguel has very good taste. That's the best way to eat sushi." I laughed while repeating her gesture, but with tuna. We continued to laugh and play with each other, sometimes kissing, sometimes dipping our nipples in sake so that the liquor could then be licked off. While it wasn't making love, it was still a very intimate way of eating sushi. Sofia sometimes used the chopsticks to dip my nipple in soy sauce, a game Miguel had taught her and she shared it with me.

"Give me some soy sauce, my love," Sofia said while pinching my nipple, I smiled and was about to place a shrimp on top of my breast, when "Ding-ding... Ding-ding" my iPhone rang.

"Sofia, we have to go. We lost track of time, we have to get back to work." She was ahead of me, her blouse already on, but not the bra. I did the same and just pulled on my blouse. Our bras went into my purse. We paid the restaurant bill and hurried back to the Mall, our breasts bouncing freely under our blouses. I felt empowered as men turned to look at our boobies. This time, the security guards not only didn't demand that Sofia wear a leash, but they even opened the door for us. I'm sure their ears must still have been burning from the scolding that their boss must have given them. I smiled to myself, thinking, "Carla Prezado, you're the perfect Karen when you want to be."

"Sofia and I slowed our pace as we approached the Spa. I was doing a mental review of what was planned for this first session. I should have done a briefing with Sofia and the photographer, but that would have to be done on the spot as we progressed. That was the original intention of the lunch - to work with Sofia on how the campaign would be. To hell with it, I thought, you're Portuguese, Carla, you don't need to plan anything.

"Carla, what do I have to do? You know I've never done this before." Sofia must have been starting to stress out; she always had everything planned.

"Don't worry, it's going to be a series of beauty treatments. The only difference is that we'll have a photographer filming and photographing everything." That was more or less it, even though some procedures would be new. Take a deep breath, it'll go well, I repeated to myself.

We both entered the Spa. Claudia, my assistant, took Sofia's blazer and our purses. We went straigth to my office, where the photographer sent by the advertising agency was already waiting.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Carla, and this is Sofia, our model. We apologise for being late, but we're old friends and lost track of time." Old friends and recent lovers, I thought.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Marina," the photographer replied, smiling. "I've taken the liberty of setting up my equipment in the treatment room. May I see the model?" Sofia looked a bit perplexed, glancing at Marina.

"Naked, I would like to see the model naked to assess the best physical features, take some photos, see the best qualities, and check if there are any flaws we need to consider."

Sofia understood what was required, despite the surprise. Without hesitation, she began to remove her clothes. The old Sofia would have refused, and even I'm not sure if I would have undressed so quickly and with such ease as she did.

"Very beautiful, she could be slimmer, but she is very beautiful and well-proportioned. The breasts are wonderful; are they natural?" Marina asked, taking photos as she spoke.

"Yes, they are," Sofia and I said at the same time. We laughed, "We won't die today," and laughed again. It was an old saying that people who speak together the same words would not die that day. We did it twice, we should be quite safe.

"Her legs are quite fit, same as her buttocks, the hair perfect. Give me a sad face, and a happy one, now a sad one again. That's it, your slave is a natural. Are you sure she never modeled before?" She was shooting photos from every angle.

"No, Sofia has never modeled before, and Marina, if you ever refer to Sofia as a slave in my presence, I will make sure that the only photos you will take again are of the toilets you will be cleaning," I told her that with the same soft tone I would use to ask her for a glass of water, and with a smile on my lips.

"I... I'm sorry, I meant no disrespect. It was... it won't happen again, ma'am. Ma'am, may I ask how you're going to spin her situation? We can photoshop the collar out, but for the live events?" Her voice was meek, but she had a point.