This is the first chapter of Beth's final book. This was a hard chapter to write. Fortunately the rest won't be this bad. This chapter contains oral and anal sex, rapes, trains, punishments including spankings and whipping, isolation and fetish behavior such as being forced to eat excrement and drink urine. STD's and COVID don't exist in this world. My thanks to JohnnyGalt for his editorial assistance.
My Descent into Slavery and Eventual Resurrection, Ch 1 - My Days as a Slave
I woke up screaming. I was fastened down on my back, my buttocks burning. I could barely move, so couldn't get off them or roll over. My arms, legs, head and torso were immobilized, my legs spread.
"Ah, the slave who refuses to kneel is awake," Mahmoud said. "Welcome back to your reality, slave."
"Fuck you!" I gasped, puffing air like a woman in labor. "Did I kneel?"
"Only because you passed out before you did. You will. It's inevitable."
He was right. I'd kneel, probably the next time he hit me. I knew it and he knew it. Protesting I wouldn't was pointless.
"Why am I fastened down?" I wanted to turn over so much. My ass was on fire and I needed to get off of it.
He didn't reply, ignoring me like I didn't exist. I heard Hannah scream.
"What are you doing to them?" I shouted. I couldn't turn my head to see.
He ignored me, an insect he couldn't be bothered to swat. Hannah screamed again.
"Please, tell me what you're doing to her," I said.
"Is that the wind blowing in the trees? Did someone leave a radio on? If it was a slave speaking, surely I would hear some deference to one who is her Master."
And so it began; the process of turning me into another mindless sexual plaything who would grovel at his feet and kiss them and thank him for the opportunity to serve and beg him to fuck me. I knew what he was doing, why he was doing it, how he was going to do it, and I could do nothing about it. It was only a matter of time. Time he had and I didn't. I would grovel before he branded me. I could put it off perhaps, for a week, two, if I was really strong, but I would grovel and beg and call him Master.
"Would you please tell me what's happening to my friends, Master?"
He looked down at me, almost a sneer on his face. "They're being fitted with their new slave jewelry."
Something I had expected. I'd warned Hannah and Jìngyi. All of our freed slaves had worn slave jewelry, both nipple and pussy piercings. I'm sure they did nothing here to anesthetize you or build up your endorphins. You were probably lucky if they sanitized the needles, although Mahmoud seemed educated enough to know you should.
"I think both of your friends will fetch an excellent price. I'm thinking of a certain Russian oligarch for the tall blonde. He fancies her sort and buys frequently because they don't last more than a few months. He's quite brutal, I've heard. He must have Mommy issues. The Asian, there's a woman who likes small, petite girls like her. If she's really pleasing, she might last awhile. Madame Jade does become easily bored though, so after a year or so, she'll be sent to a bordello she owns."
Listening to him talk about Mommy issues, which wasn't a bad supposition based upon what he said, I realized he might be better educated than I'd imagined, perhaps some college. Psychological training would be beneficial if he wanted to condition women into slaves.
"So what are your issues, Master? Unfaithful wife, slut girlfriend, whore mother?"
He looked down at me. "You're going to be fun to break." He turned back to the other activity in the room. Jìngyi was the next one to scream.
******
Due to the aching in my buttocks, I drifted into subspace, trying to ignore it as best as I could. I faintly heard and was aware of the next several screams Jìngyi made. Seven screams, seven piercings.
A hand slapped my face, snapping me out of subspace. A man in a medical coat stood over me along with Mahmoud. When Mahmoud knew I was alert, he conversed with the man in the coat in Arabic. I felt him pinching my nipples, my pudenda, squeezing my clit, and pointing to two spots on my nose and one on my ear. Identifying the locations for my piercings I imagined.
I tried to drift off again. Mahmoud slapped my face. "Pay attention. He's to slap you before each piercing so we know you feel it."
So without being able to drift into subspace, I had piercings done to both nipples (horizontal), six to my labial lips, three on each side, one to my clitoral hood underneath the clit to push it up, a septum nose piercing, with a large hoop with which to control me by yanking on it, another piercing to the left nostril and left ear, with a chain connecting both of those. I couldn't see what they put in them with the exception of the septum piercing. It hurt, and I whimpered with each one, but the throbbing on my buttocks was worse, so it wasn't much worse than I already felt.
I was reminded of something my father told me once when I had a headache at age eleven or twelve years old. I told him my head hurt.
"You know how to get rid of the headache?" He asked.
"Aspirin," I said, hoping he'd give me some.
"Slam your hand in the car door. It will hurt so bad, you won't even feel your headache anymore."
Yeah, my Dad was weirdly funny like that. He did give me the aspirin, and I didn't slam my hand in the car door to find out if he was right. But I was reminded of it now because the piercings could almost be ignored because of my acute discomfort in my buttocks.
While I was secured down, they riveted metal manacles around my wrists, ankles and neck. There were no locks to remove them. They would have to be cut off.
Mahmoud told Abdul. "See the other two are fucked three times in each hole. This one, fuck four times a hole then toss all three in the dark room until morning to soften them up, separate cells."
"It will be done."
Does it say anything about the depth of my submission that I climaxed four times during my rapes despite them slamming hard against my traumatized ass?
******
"No talking," Abdul said as the door slammed shut behind me, leaving me in total darkness. It was cold and I was naked, the floor was stone and all I had for warmth was a threadbare blanket. I heard two other doors slam after mine and knew my friends had joined me in the bowels of hell.
I yelled, "Remember in the very depths of your souls you are loved, wanted, and help is on the way."
"Shut the fuck up," Abdul said.
"I love you both, with all my heart," I shouted.
Abdul reopened my door and laid the whip on me a couple times. "Keep the faith," I yelled, earning some more stripes, before I curled into a ball and kept quiet. The door slammed shut again, the door locking.
After an unknown length of time in the dark, I heard the skittering of small critters or large insects on the stone floor. Rats would eat anything and I was bleeding. The stingray barb had broken skin, so I hoped it was mice or some African creature I had never heard of. Perhaps it would just be large cockroaches or beetles or something else living in this North African hell hole. I shivered the night away, grabbing brief cat naps, but unable to get any decent sleep.
Sleep deprivation, darkness, hunger, isolation, brutality and rape were all tools to break down the human spirit. We'd experienced them all to a certain extent, and I was sure more was yet to come. We were only in the first days of our conditioning to turn us into mindless slaves. At some point, morning I assumed, though there was no day in the dark, I heard a couple of doors opened and I heard feet shuffling away, with the crack of a whip and a yelp I thought was Hannah. No one came for me. A small grate opened at the bottom of my door, a brief flicker of dim light and a metal plate slid into the room.
I crawled towards where I recalled the light to have been. I felt around for the plate and found it. It smelled awful and when I touched it, I knew why. Someone had taken a dump on my food again. I pushed it away and ignored it. I wasn't in danger of starving to death at this point. I curled back in my blanket and closed my eyes, hoping sleep would take me. Apparently, the creatures in the dark didn't think shit covered food was beneath them. I heard them scurrying around in the direction I'd left the food. Maybe someday, I'd be exactly like them.
At some point, another plate was shoved under the door. I ignored that one too. Better the creatures ate it than me. I assumed it would have more feces over it.
I had no concept of how much time passed, other than the food they shoved under the door. I could hear nothing, see nothing, smell nothing but excrement and rotting food, and my own urine, which I peed out in the corner of the room farthest from the door. I didn't have much, not having had anything to drink, in however long. Assuming the first food came in the morning and the second in the evening. Being underground, the temperature was fairly uniform, no extra heat during the day or extra cold at night. Just seconds and hours ticking away with no idea of how many there were.
The door opened and a bight light shined in my eyes, blinding me. All I could see was a large body in front of me.
"You didn't eat," Abdul said, identifying himself.
"Not that fond of shit," I said.
He whipped me, renewing the pain on my ass.
"Not that fond of shit, Master."
"You ate plenty of it on the trip here."
"I was hoping to get rescued. I'd eat a lot of shit to get out of this hell hole, Master. Not so much now my tracker is gone."
He smiled at me. "How did you avoid it being detected the first time I checked you?"
"It wasn't turned on for twenty-four hours."
He whipped me again. "Master."
