The Slaves Journey Ch 02

I am new to this and so please comment and advise on length and style. This Chapter may be a slow burner describing the arrival at the centre after capture.

This is a continuation from Ch01. It is now the nights end and the brothel closed. There was no more use for me my mind returns to the capture of me.

Recap: for those who do not wish to read the short Ch01.

I am a 28 or 29 year old captive of 6 years or so somewhere in the world. In Ch01 I described the event of the night I was first captured. Angry and drunk on my 22nd birthday I found myself going for a one night stand with a mysterious man to his hotel room where after sex he drugged me. The tale is told as flashbacks and so now to Ch02.

***

The overseer was right and the night was quiet, I sat waiting for the night to end under the gaze of the "guests" who had been sated and now sat drinking waiting until they had to leave and go home. Dressed only in a half cup black basque, that offered my "tits on a tray" to any onlooker and black silk stocking clipped to it. Panties were not allowed unless requested by a "guest" and so my pussy was open to the air and the view of the guests and overseers as they looked on. The time of my showing shame at this had left me a long time ago. I sat thighs parted and my sex showing it had clearly been used earlier that night for all to see. I knew the scent of sex hung about me about me. The overseers enjoy this and expect a girl to display, though they wouldn't touch us in work time, later some of us would work hard for them I was sure.

Eventually the last girl returned and we were gathered fastened together in a chain koffle by the wrists and ankle. Our "work" clothes handed back to the Madam and we were back in our rough shapeless short hessian sack "dresses". The garment just covered our modesty, for those who still had any after all this time. Every night we made the journey back to our dorm dressed as such the late night street wanderers watching us and calling out.

Back at the dorm we showered in a cramped space. I had many years ago lost inhibition and didn't care we were watched as we cleaned each other. We made a show of soaping our hands and running them over another's body, sliding fingers over breasts and panting as their fingers entered you. I would kneel face close to a girls sex as you lathered her thighs and then moved a shower head about to let the soap run down flesh to the floor and drain. All this to please the men who would guard us to make sure we stayed where we had been put.

Pregnancy was undesirable and so once showered we would sit, watched and pointed at as we spread ourselves to push rigid shaped sponges inside us a final humiliation of the night as we worked it inside twisting and pushing it deep trying to gather in its absorbent cushions the seed that had not yet fallen from us or been washed out at the shower. The guards watched, choosing who would get less sleep tonight and instead be taken to their room to be entertaining.

I knew as one who's body showed I had been less used this night the chances one to be chosen would be me were high. That would be later though we were always put to bed first, possibly because they found it more arousing to think we worried and lay awake waiting for the door to open and choices be made. In truth we did worry, the only ones who didn't were that nights BDSM stars, it was usually felt they had done their duty and as I say tonight I wasn't one of them. Taken to the bed I lay down offering my wrist for fastening to the chain that would keep me in place and once the last of us was secured the light went off. Darkness and near silence reigned, the only sound the gasp or moan of a girl as she lay upon a bruise or felt the ache of where the cane had landed earlier that night. I closed my eyes but did not sleep.

My mind returned to the capture all those years ago. I remembered what seemed a long time of moving in and out of consciousness kept in a semi drugged state. Eventually the journey halted and doors were flung wide allowing light inside. Blinding at first but as eyes became accustomed I took in two things:

First, I was not alone and realised I was 1 of, I could call it nothing other than a consignment, of 36 girls. All fastened like me by wrists and neck collars. We were ball gagged and I became aware was dribbling over my naked body. The container stank of us and our natural needs.

The second thing was the man before us now was the same one who I had gone to the hotel with. He spoke softly and with the same command in his voice.

"Ladies, I am David and you are now part of my business."

"Ladies, I am David and you are now part of my business."

One by one a girl was released removed from the back and taken away. Soon it was my turn, David pointed to me and two men moved in unlocked the cuffs and dragged me up and out. I begged and yelled, pleading for help and mercy. I would pay them anything but all of my cries it seemed were ignored and I was dragged to a frame. My legs parted and ankles fastened to it as were my hands. I was standing, naked, restrained and all of me on show.

I felt the water hit me and screamed in shock as two men moved about me turning on the and off the hose. The water beat my breasts; it made me cry as it struck my pussy like a fist until finally it stopped. I was out of breath, hanging limply on the frame. My chest rose and fell and I gasped for air, my wet hair was like rats tails hiding my face as my head rested on my chest. I hardly noticed my removal from the frame and found myself inside a large warehouse. One by one the others joined us, we were all wet but cleaned.

We are joined by David and his people. "Ladies we will now catalogue you and then you will be taken to your home for the next 10 days."

The first girl and the next are dragged roughly to their feet as he stands before them and so soon each girl knows to stand as he steps to them and I am no different. A collared female stands in his sight but says nothing, waiting until he looks at her.

"Master, she is number 75."

He looks and writes 75 upon my breast before turning me around and I feel the marker write the number large on my back and to my buttock. I stand still, my head is high and I make a show of looking past him. He and says nothing though the smile upon his face tells me he has seen my gesture in this. Coldly he goes about his business.

"Female, early 20's, speaks English, possibly well educated." The girl repeats then writes.

"Height 5 feet 4 inches, Weight 105 pounds."

"White, blue eyes, dark brown hair."

He cups my breasts "Tits," he says this purposefully looking at me "Tits, 36C, natural, ariolas light pink. Nipples react quickly." Embarrassed I blush as I feel his hands squeeze and thumbs move across hardening nipples.

"Waist 30 inches." His hand to my ass "Buttocks... pert."

A hand swiftly grabs my jaw and my mouth opens "Teeth, good, white, two fillings, gold."

The cataloguing continues and I am turned, examined, noted. I am inventory. Hands run down my tummy and cup my sex. "Stomach flat, not bred. No piercings below ears. No tattoos or scars."

His cupped hand curls a finger inside and I feel my folds part. At this I sob slightly and close my eyes as I hear him casually continue:

"Cunt, wets easily." I hear the words and they are said loudly to humiliate me, but I keep my gaze from his as if deaf to all.

The fingers move with practiced skill, my eyes closed I am back in the hotel and he is the man with the moves and touch to set me on fire once again in my mind. I try to remember where I am and what he is but he works me pushing his fingers against my warm, wet walls as his thumb presses to my clit. Despite myself I sigh and I push down hating myself as I do. He obviously feels my movement and sliding his fingers out places them to my lip, my mouth opens and I taste myself.

A laugh in the distance brings me back to reality. Eyes open I hiss, a bitter animal sound, recoiling back and spit at him. My aim is true and I watch it hit, holding place then starting to roll down his cheek. He laughs motioning to the collared girl to move forward and offers his cheek. With a smile and a thank you to him her tongue snakes slowly and softly about his face dragging away to her mouth my spit.

"The last entry should be "has spirit unbroken." Now take her away."

We are led into a hanger and all I can do is gasp at what I see. Before me are rows of cages almost all full, there must be over a 100 people in them and I am led to cage 75. Roughly I am forced face down to a cold metal bench and my wrists and ankles once more restrained. My head pokes through a hole in the bars and below it is a feed bowl, stainless steel and empty. I look left and right and realise we are like cattle, held in stalls, without clothes, freedom to move or food until David or whoever decides. The bench is cold to my skin and you can tell who the new arrivals are as we scream and curse, those longer here just look silently.

Shortly, the door opens and lingerie clad collared girls move forward ladling watery soup under our noses and I watch as girls bend their heads to drink. The cart stops before me and as the soup is poured the girl grabs my hair holding my head up where in front of me stands David. I try in a futile, pathetic effort to move away but get nowhere as of course my head is trapped and he steps forward. And crouches down to make his face level with mine.

"Spit at me would you? I will now use you as an example." He gestures and my cage is opened.

I stay silent, this is not good I know. I am taken out, led to a post in the centre of this hangar and wrists are fastened above my head. I now tug and yell drawing catcalls and laughter from all both those inside cages and outside. My naked body wriggles, feet push against the post and dark hair flies about my head as I move and struggle. I feel my shoulders burn as I fling myself about and suddenly there is a click of heels and silence falls as a girl walks over passing in front of me. As she does she smiles making a show of swinging the paddle in her hand. I can't take my eyes from it, it looks like the carpet beaters you probably saw Granny using in those old pictures in photo albums on the shelf at home. It is made of, I guess, some sort of bamboo and has an intricate weave to it.

I was not unknown to the joys of spanking and a paddling to my rear and though I sensed this was something different I couldn't help but notice my breathing speed up and my struggling lessen. I watched as she moved to David, handing it to him. My eyes follow as he walks to a barrel, dips it then lifting it a few seconds later and it glistens with moisture. Walking to me slowly he smiles, sadistically, an occasional swish cuts the air and the paddle with its holed pattern whistles. He stands behind me saying nothing just waiting. My heart beats quickly, my breath sounds noisy to me and I realise I am at least a little aroused.

"WATCH!, all of you!" his voice is sharp, commanding, but not the subtle sound I remember from the hotel.

"All of you are cattle and will be at market in 10 days. Then you will be gone and I will not care or remember you, for the next 10 days you will train and learn to look good in an auction, or you will be sorry. Marked goods are damaged goods but we don't need to scar or mark to punish. You will find that out tomorrow."

I hear the whistle, short and shrill then my bottom burns the wet bamboo clings to the flesh and hurts more than if dry. Almost before I begin to shout a second swipe is felt and I hop from foot to foot. A third and forth strike and I feel tears roll.

"Stand still count and it will be over sooner." I stop hopping. A skilled hand brings the paddle to my ass once more and I feel the burn of beaten flesh as I yelp and call.

"Three." I do not know if it is three or more but choose low.

"Four, five, six."

My bum burns, thighs shake but the skin is not broken. As he was with his cock at the hotel he is as accomplished with the paddle. He hurts and chastises without damaging and I suddenly realise I am leaning into the post my breasts pressing to it as I am pushing out my ass, the burn of the skin excites and my yelps of pain and indignation become closer to pants desire.

"Seven, eight."

I wait for the next and the air about me feels charged. Nothing happens there is no ninth. I push out my bum, I don't want to but desire has me need to. I hate him, I hate David. I hate him because he kidnapped me, because I am nothing to him, because he beats me, but I hate myself in this moment more for my weakness. My wrists released I am turned to face him and see his smile. It is the smile of a man who loves his job not the person before him. He nods and quickly I am grabbed and forced to sit. My behind is on fire and I scream in shock of it as I feel my legs roughly parted and cool air hits my sex. My head rises and I see David removing his belt, folding it to take the buckle and end in his grip as he steps to me.

His wrist flicks and I scream as the strap hits my sex "AAAARGH!!" followed by sobbing. The flick catches my button as it peeps from behind its hood.

"Count! That was nine you whore."

"Nine."

My body shakes as I feel the tenth hit just as accurately.

"Ten." I say almost inaudible in my sobs. The hangar is quiet no-one wants to be the attention of David. He looks about, stepping in a circle, arms out as if taking silent applause of his audience.

"And now ladies, the final punishment and I hope you all have learnt."

I remember watching him cast his steely eye about the pens and all look away not wanting or daring to meet his gaze. He turns to me and I summon the last of my strength to just look coldly at him. I know I can't win, but I will not let him hear me beg. I am moved by two men a few steps, the pain in my behind and pussy all I take in and my limbss feel as if they are someone else's. My arms are stretched out and fastened to a bar. I am bent forward my neck collared to it.

I become aware of pain to my feet and realise I am stood on a plate of blunt metal pyramids. They are of course uncomfortable to stand on and already my toes curl, then I feel a level at my knees and raise my legs to kneel on it. David laughs as I moan realising it isn't a plate or shelf but a bar. He walks to me placing his mouth to my ear.

"I really must thank you 75." he uses the number, not my name and it isn't lost on me. "You allowed me to show all I mean business and care nothing for you at all."

He kisses me, and I respond my mouth opens and tongue moves to lick over his lips. Do I mean to or do I hope to soften his heart to let me go? - I don't know.

He moves behind me sliding my knees along the bar to a slightly wider, flatter section. I feel his hot cock at my entrance, his hands to my hips, steadying me. He pushes, a fast single stroke deep inside me and I rock forward against the bonds of my wrists. He is a bastard but I hear myself pant as his large uncut cock slides along my walls and across my spot. Clenching my teeth I wish to make no sound, to give him no idea that even in my pain he makes me feel good. I feel myself clench about his shaft the joy of his cock inside moving balanced by the discomfort of my position and the bar digging into my knees.

His hand slaps my red cheeks, I squeal and push back I don't care this hurts my knees I want to feel his cock deeper. He fucks me, he doesn't make love, he fucks, He uses me and I moan and whimper feeling my shoulders burn as his thrusts move me forward against the restraints and at times they seem to threaten to pull them from the sockets until eventually I hear the grunt and feel his hot seed in me. Drawing out he looks about and points to a cage

"At 1am that one will come and clean 75 and she can then return to the cage for rest. Until then enjoy her pussy."

There is a cheer from the men and I watch David walk off. I lower my feet to the plate and feel the blunt pyramids on my soles but it is respite for my knees. All night I move position the contraption is made to keep you uncomfortable. It is not long before the first cock is inside and I am used, quickly feeling the seed inside and running down my thighs. At first I scream and cry for help as if I really believe someone will feel pity or release me. No-one will release me and as my mind accepts that I go quiet panting as I am used over and over. As each finishes with me I would move position to find short respite for my body as I feel the cum run down my thighs cooling to dry upon my skin.

1am arrives, though I hardly notice either that or the touch of the girls tongue cleaning me.

*

For the next ten days we are trained to present ourselves upon the stage where we are to be displayed and bid for.

As David had said we would comply without him resorting to scarring any of the merchandise. No doubt the experience of me the previous evening helped, but so to did the first morning after we wake. En masse we are taken to a long bench and as one we kneel upon it facing the wall. We are to hold the hands of the one next to us, noses to the wall. We hold the position for what seems an age, but probably no more than five minutes in reality. We hear a scream from the far end of the bench and then another and another. Suddenly myself and the ones whose hands I hold join them as we feel the pain of three swift, severe and expertly delivered cane strokes to the soles of our feet.

David's voice rings clear and without any feeling "Now you may go to eat the breakfast in your cage."

We turn and each step is painful. This is how he will train us, every fault will be met by caning to our feet. As we eat he explains all, we eat in silence, I can tell we all realise now whether we are new here or not that we will not be escaping until he has sold us.

Our days become a routine. We wake and kneel awaiting our caning, we eat and we practice. In the evening we are placed like cattle in our stalls, and heads out some are always selected to serve orally the watching guards. They are not allowed to use anything other than mouths so that at auction when examined we will look fresh.

We are taught to walk in step, fastened in a neck koffle in groups of five. We learn to move with grace up the steps while in the koffle. We learn quickly, as where one falters all in the koffle are caned. At first we end our days weary walking on tender aching soles, back to our cages where without force or shouting we lie upon our cold metal benches offering hands for restraining eager to rest sore feet from the floor.

We are taught the basic instructions we will be given and to move seductively, each action intended to make a bidder shout a higher price than the last. Then it was the day of the auction...

Oh the memory is clear and as my mind looks to move to then I see the crack of light as the dorm door opens and boots move along the lines of beds. They select girls, who as they hear there wrists unlocked sit up and silently stand to walk out to the guardroom. Feet stop by my bed and I look up at the face... he moves on and the door closes out the light once more. Today, it seems, is a good day for Jane; she was used kindly in the brothel and does not service the men watching over her.

I think back to the day of the auction but before it arrives clearly to me I drift to sleep, memory of the day my fate was sealed would have to wait to be relived it seemed.