Reflections

Hands has me share his bed for most of the night, and my sleep is dreamless and peaceful. His wake up call is usually very different from today - a whip to the bars is the norm - so I have no complaints when I wake to him pressed up against my back, his cock forcing it's way inside me.

My hands snake back around his neck and his breath hitches against my ear as I arch my back and press my ass into him, willing him inside me more. He nips my ear gently, then laughs softly at my sigh of pleasure.

"How I wish I could bite you harder, slut. Your skin bruises too easily."

Instead, he strokes a path down to my hip, his hand big enough to hold me in place whilst finding the rhythm he knows I like against my clit.

He unbuckles my collar with his other hand, so he can wrap his fingers around my neck. Not enough pressure to hurt me, but just enough to remind me that he's in control.

He thrusts inside me as hard as our sideways position will allow, his strong hands not allowing me to buck my hips or encourage him to go faster. My moans are almost silent, stemmed by the hand at my throat, and his breathing becomes more ragged as I grow wetter and wetter against him. His fingers work their magic against my aching clit and soon I'm squirming, tensing around his cock, and so, so close. Sensing this, his hand at my neck tightens a little more.

"You are not to cum without permission little slave, do you understand?"

I moan in frustration, and he ups the torture by rolling onto his back with me on top of him, his mouth nipping and licking against my ear, every brush of my clit making it harder not to give in to my orgasm.

His cock is almost too big for me in this position, and when I arch my back to try to take more of him in, his moan against my ear is unbearable. He relaxes his grip but keeps stroking a burning rhythm against my clit, as he matches the pace my hips set of their own accord. He releases my neck and traces a path down my cleavage to my nipples, pinching them hard, his breathing quickening each time I react. I don't think I can hold on... the need to obey him battles against my body's desperate reaction to his teasing.

"Speak, slut. Beg me."

His voice is little more than a growl, reflecting his own need, and I almost sob in desperation.

"Please Master, please-"

His permission is almost inaudible as he stiffens against me, holding me in a vice grip and moaning sweet words I don't understand against my ear. His cock is impossibly hard as he finishes inside me, filling me completely with his hot, liquid desire.

My own orgasm rocks my body, and his fingers find my mouth so I can taste myself all over them whilst he silences me. Waves of pleasure explode through every muscle, tensing up again and again until we're both still, sated and every part of us drenched. Sleep finds me easily, and it's far too soon when he gently shakes me awake and returns me to my cage.

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. The monotony of our morning routine is a relief today - I don't want any time to think about tonight. Hands is all business, and doesn't so much as glance my way.

The routine is broken when we reach our afternoon class. Another handler is waiting to oversee our group, whilst Hands returns me to his quarters, this time with Ume joining us too.

After we serve him lunch, Ume following my lead, he motions for us to eat with him. To her credit, Ume seems unfazed by this deviation from the norm, although I think my relaxed demeanour sets her at ease.

After lunch, she clears the plates whilst I fix his drink, then wait quietly at his side for further instruction.

"What are you waiting for, slave?"

Surprised, I set about running the bath - I'd assumed it was too early in the day for this. He stops me before I put the oils in.

"Choose the ones you like."

I try to hide my surprise, but clearly don't do a good enough job.

"You know your place is to serve and obey, not question every action, slut?"

His tone is still light and teasing.

"Yes, Master. I apologise."

"The bath is for you, and your flower. Do you not appreciate gifts, little slave?"

"Thank you, Master. I didn't realise what a generous mood you were in."

He snorts in laughter as I step into the tub, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Ume looks worried, so I try to look as reassuring as possible when I motion for her to join me. When she's settled on my lap I hold her close and try to help her relax.

"After your bath, I will take you both for your medical. You need to be fresh for tomorrow."

I try to keep my face impassive, but groan inwardly. We are examined by a doctor every few days, but I hardly think hair removal and any other cosmetic treatments we have to receive afterwards counts as a 'medical'.

"Your eyes always give you away, slut. You want to be the best bait possible don't you?"

"Yes, Master."

He then gives some instructions to Ume, who responds shyly with a quick nod. I daren't ask, even though I'm dying to.

"You want a translation, little slave?"

"No thank you, Master."

"Lying to your Master is a punishable offence, little slave. You are a slut of many questions."

"I apologise, Master. I was remembering my place."

"I told her I'll be back in a little while, and she is allowed to tease you, but no finishing. At least not for you, not until after tomorrow. She can finish as many times as you like. Another gift."

This is all for his benefit - I have to be at my best for the following evening. Whatever the motivation though, I can't deny that alone time with Ume really is a gift.

"Thank you, Master."

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As I stretch, awaking from an afternoon nap, I revel In the feeling of soft skin and silk against my body.

Ume is sleeping soundly beside me, and I snuggle into her, pressing my face into her hair, and trying to ignore the gnawing knot of anticipation about what awaits me tomorrow evening.

I understand the role I have to play tomorrow. After seeing the conditions those women are being kept in, I want to help. But having to go back there, without protection...

I have to trust that Hands wouldn't put me in danger. As long as the Master doesn't suspect, I'll be safe with him.

Hands soon makes a reappearance, and takes us for our 'medical.' I'm not going to bore you with the ins and outs of it, but it's as degrading as it sounds.

The afternoon drags into evening - I want to enjoy this time with Ume, and the delicious dinner we share with Hands, but I know that this isn't for our benefit. Nothing is free in this world.

Hands wants to keep me close by, but it would draw too much attention to me if I was the only girl. I know he trusts his men, but they still might talk. He also has other things to attend to, and he needs to keep me calm ahead of tomorrow - leaving me with nothing to occupy me would allow too much time for nerves to creep in.

Hands allows me to undress him tonight, but waves me away when I go to wash him,

"Too tempting, slave. I might get carried away. You can run a fresh one for you and your flower after."

I run the water mostly cold for us - I need to cool off. I understand why he wants me frustrated, but I need the distraction more than ever.

Ume's fingers are both heaven and hell as she covers me in soap, lingering in all the places I like, but only long enough to tease. I eventually grow too frustrated by her teasing, and bury my face between her thighs, licking and sucking at her clit and having her ride my fingers until she gasps her release for me, over and over again. Hands watches on in amusement, eventually scooping us both from the tub and telling me that we need our beauty sleep.

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If I ever wake up like this again, between two people as beautiful as these, I hope to be as satisfied then as I am frustrated now. Knowing Ume won't disobey an order, I turn to Hands, pressing my face into his neck and moulding my body to his.

Feeling him stirring, and hardening between my thighs, I angle my hips so he has no place to go but inside me.

He takes the bait and I wrap my legs around him tighter, moaning in relief against his neck as he begins to thrust inside me. He humours me for a moment, then untangles himself from me, laughing at my frustration.

"Such a needy slut. Did I give you permission?"

"No, Master, I apologise."

"If there was time today, I would punish you for your disobedience. But after tonight, know that I look forward to rewarding your success almost as much as you're looking forward to it."

Ume snuggles up against my back and presses sweet kisses against my neck as she stirs, so I turn my attention to her instead. I forget everything for a moment as i kiss her good morning, until it occurs to me that this might be the

only

chance I get, so I slow down and try to savour it. Eventually, Hands clears his throat - he's hungry, and the moment is over.

We join the rest of our group for exercise, and lunch is the same as the day before, including the bath.

As Ume smoothes the remaining droplets from my skin, Hands gives me a serious look.

"You understand what I'm asking of you, little one?"

"Yes, Master, I understand."

"We won't have another chance to speak about this. Do you need any further instruction on how to please your Master for the night?"

"No, Master."

"No questions at all. slut?"

""Will you be waiting, Master?"

A flicker of worry in his eyes breaks his confident facade for a moment as we share a look.

"Yes, little one. As soon as you're ready to return, I'll be there. Remember, you are a free woman tonight. Use your voice if you need to."

"I will, Master."

The rest of the day is spent preparing the bait.

We are joined by two slave girls, with no end of garments, jewellery & beauty products in tow. Ume & Hands get involved too, and I allow myself to zone out of the chatter and daydream about the different things I could ask for as a reward.

They decide on a red theme, dress, shoes & flowers for my hair. Silver jewellery looks best against my skin. When they set to work on my face and hair, I allow myself to doze - I suspect there won't be much time to sleep tonight.

Eventually, it's time for my dress - light material, deep red, backless, and a halterneck secured by a silver choker. Heels are not practical for the desert, and Hands takes his time choosing a pair of silver, jeweled slippers. When I slip them on he lifts my chin and smiles at me.

"For the scorpions, remember?"

"Yes, Master."

My fellow slaves are upset that they have no mirror for me, but I don't need or care for one. Ume can't take her eyes off me, and Hands looks... smug, as always.

I thank the other girls for their hard work, as they melt away into the dark.

"Say goodbye to your flower, little slave."

Ume can do nothing more than squeeze my hands, not wanting to risk ruining any of today's hard work. Her grip is tight, and her eyes are full of questions. Hands ruffles her hair, and says something in a tone that could almost be affectionate. She reluctantly releases me, with one last squeeze of my hands.

As we rush through the maze of tunnels, me struggling to match his stride, there's no time for questions until we're out in the cool, night air. He doesn't try to make me walk this time, and scoops me up in his arms instead of hoisting me onto his back.

"Don't get ideas, little Princess. The other way might damage your pretty dress."

"Yes, Master. Thank you."

I study his face as we continue in silence, and his expression remains impassive. Eventually his mask cracks, and he can't help but smile, although his tone is exasperated.

"I don't know why I let you speak at all. So many questions! Ask!"

"What did you tell her, Master?"

"That you would return to her later, unharmed."

He had already told me that there was no time for questions, and you can never be sure if someone might be listening in the dark, so I fall silent. The closer we get to the marquee, the larger the knot in my stomach grows. I need to be brave, but I don't feel it.

When we reach the doorway, he doesn't set me down this time, but pauses for a second to stare into my eyes, willing me to trust him. As he carries me through the dimly lit entranceway, the smell is overpowering again, but at least we don't have to visit the living quarters.

Too soon, we are greeted by my Master for the evening. He is alone this time - I am to be his only entertainment. Hands chuckles something in Arabic, as he makes a show of removing my shoes and setting me down. The Master's eyes are fixed on me, and I make sure I keep his attention by unclasping the choker that holds my dress up, allowing it to fall in a crimson puddle around my feet. I hear the clink of glass behind me as Hands sets some oils down by the bath. The Master barely notices as Hands bids us goodbye, and so I begin my tasks for the evening.

When my Master's dinner is served, I dutifully slip under the table, and begin to pleasure him with my mouth. I feel myself slipping further into submission, and it no longer matters that this man disgusts me - I am just obeying orders.

When I feel him beginning to shudder, I tease his cock with more little licks of my tongue as I run my lips up and down the shaft. His hand grips my hair cruelly, yanking it hard as he fills my mouth and throat, and once his shudders subside, it's time to fix his drink. His eyes are fixed on my every movement, so I put an extra swing in my hips, and make a show of preparing his drink.

After placing his drink at the table and turning my back to him, he stops me by grabbing me hard between my thighs, digging his fingers into my skin as he forces two fingers inside me. I will myself not to react to the pain, reminding myself that I can take much worse, and fixing a smile to my face as he drags his fingers away slowly. When I turn to acknowledge him, he exaggerates licking his fingers clean, then licks his lips.

I leave him to his drink as I prepare the bath. I look carefully at the little bottles of oil arranged beside the tub, trying to decide which ones Hands wants to me use. I see a bottle labelled with what looks like an Ume flower. Perfect. He's still watching me, so after scenting the water, I dab the oil onto my fingertips, then run them all over my neck and down my cleavage.

I make my way back to him, his eyes all over me. I straddle his thigh to undress him, and press my fingers to his mouth so he can suck the oil from the tips. Then he moves to my neck, biting and sucking hard as he slobbers his way to my nipples. I ignore the sting of pain as he clamps down on them with his teeth, and continue with his buttons as best as I can,

When I remove his bottom layer, his cock is already hardening again, and once I reach his feet to remove his sandals, he wiggles his toes, indicating he wants me to kiss them. I don't falter - I am a slave girl, following my orders. Then he yanks me up by my hair, and drags me into the bath with him, dragging me down onto his lap and forcing his cock inside me. He latches onto my neck again as he begins to grunt in pleasure, and I keep playing my part by serving my Master well. I try to rinse myself off as best as I can, and avoid my mouth being anywhere near his in the unlikely event that he tries to kiss me.

I lose track of how many times he uses me, first in the tub, then the floor, the table, and finally the bed, retreating from the quiet, empty space in my mind only to assess his condition.

I don't know how quickly poison works, so for a while I was anxious that I'd used the wrong oil, that Hands and I don't think as alike as I initially thought. Those worries ease when I begin to notice his skin visibly warming, and hearing his stomach beginning to gurgle.

He motions at me for water, so I bring a jug to the edge of the bed and pour him drink and drink.

His coordination goes next, and he begins to vomit over the edge of the bed, so I soak a wet wash cloth and try to soothe him with it. Eventually his muscles seem to give out entirely, and he collapses onto his back on the bed.

I don't know what I expected of sharing a bed with a dying man, but I wasn't prepared for how messy, and how

noisy

it is. I've had to place a pillow over his face - I don't need to suffocate him, but I do need to limit the noise. He's foaming at the mouth, and has soiled himself, the bed, even me, and I want nothing more than to get away from him, but I can't until the time is right. I try to think about Ume, recalling every perfect detail of her that I can, and eventually he falls silent.

I place the pillow next to his head, trying desperately not to heave, but my stomach is cramping, my skin is burning and my head aches badly. I'd known the method of delivery would be risky, so I can only hope to stay conscious long enough to finish the task and raise the alarm.

I crawl away from the filthy bed, over to by the tub where Hands placed my shoes, one atop the other. As I carefully lift them, holding the top shoe in place, I can feel something scuttling around in the bottom shoe. Reminding myself than this is almost over, whatever happens, I place the shoes carefully on an unsoiled pillow, then roll the dead weight as much as I can, just enough for a small space under him. Then in one quick motion, tip the contents of the bottom shoe onto the bed, and drop the Master on top of it. I can still hear it trying to move under his weight, and I can only hope there's no space for it to escape.

Finally, I crawl across the tent again, my limbs weakening, to place my slippers neatly by the entrance. Once I've made my way back to the bed I begin to scream at the top of my lungs.

The handlers arrival in the tent coincides with my stomach deciding enough is enough, and emptying its contents all over the bed. Some of the handlers are promptly sick themselves, which is ironic when you consider the state they keep their captives in.

As they process the scene, their confusion turns to worry, then panic. I stumble from the bed, my vision swimming, and pray that at least one of them can speak my native tongue.

"Go and get the other Master! Go, now!"

To my relief, two bolt from the tent, probably relieved to escape the smell. The remaining handlers are mostly watching me warily, although some are leering.

Part of me had hoped that the physical condition I was in would be off putting to them, but based on my earlier point, and the fact that these 'men' are opportunistic and ruled by their impulses, I knew it was a reach.

From my position on my knees, I can see at least four of them approaching me. Some of the group, to their credit, begin arguing with them, although I suspect they were present when Hands taught a lesson to one of their own. I'd managed to keep the images from that night at bay, but they are suddenly fresh in my mind, made more vivid by the poison coursing through my veins.

They aren't able to stall them for long, but now my task is complete, I can finally give into unconsciousness. I'm almost certain Hands will come, but I'd rather die now if he doesn't. I've seen what these men are capable of.