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Passing the Baton
Prologue
“Paul is going to snuff me on my birthday”
Sarah’s comment caused her two friends to stare at her in astonished silence.
“That’s impossible Sara” said Juggy “Paul loves you. He would never snuff you. He doesn’t even like snuff, not very much anyway”
“Why would he ever want to snuff you?” asked Lila “You are her oldest slave, and you run his household for him”
“I never said he wanted to snuff me” Sarah continued soberly “I know he loves me, but he will snuff me on my birthday. I will ask him to”
“He will refuse. He will not do it” The two friends retorted. And then her last phrase clicked in and Juggy asked: “Why would you want to be snuffed?”
Sarah sat down on the balustrade of the patio. The setting September sun set her long, wavy red hair on fire. The two other slaves stood, looking at her with questioning eyes.
“I will be 35 next October. That is too old for a slave in our world. Paul should have sold or traded me a long time ago. I could serve as a slave for many years yet, but not in our world of opulent rich masters. I am still beautiful, I know, but my age shows. Paul is losing face with his friends and associates. They think him weak for keeping me. He will not last long if he is perceived as weak. By now, he can’t trade or give me away. That will just show further weakness. He must kill me or have me killed. There is no other way.”
“He will not” Juggy insisted. She knelt on the stone floor of the observatory, tossing her long black hair over her shoulders. Lila knelt besides her and both looked up at the older slave girl, sitting on the balustrade. Of the five slave girls in the house, only Sarah the most senior could sit in public.
“I can make him do it. Let me tell you the story; it is not long.”
Despite the gravity of the topic, both slave girls prepared to enjoy the tale. Sarah was a great storyteller, and even an everyday event, when recounted by her, became a treat.
“I dated Paul when I was in high school and he was a promising young engineer. I started to sub for him when I was 17. By the time I was 18 I knew I wanted him as my master forever, and on my birthday, as my gift, I asked him to take me in, as his slave. He accepted, thinking that I would soon get tired of this game. I didn’t. I helped him on his business too. He would have me serve clients that he was wooing; sometimes he would loan me to them. I felt happy that he used me so.”
The two girls looked at Sarah, rapt in their attention, already lost in the story. Sarah continued:
“Two years later, we were in
“Al-Mansur” Juggy gasped, recognizing the name
“Yes, Al-Mansur. He was the man who would have to sign the contract. Paul and I went to dinner at his palace, and I served them both there, that night. The following day, at our hotel, I was kneeling between Paul’s legs, giving him his morning blow job, when the phone rang. Paul put the phone on speaker, and I could hear everything. In short, Al-Mansur would hire Paul’s company to build all future government structures for the next 20 years, if he gave me to him to use for the next 2 weeks.
I felt a ball of ice form in my gut. I was dead. I knew it. Al-Mansur was notorious even back then; he had killed any number of slave girls already; those that survived him were often damaged beyond repair.
I concentrated on giving Paul the best blow job ever. I knew it would be the last one I would ever give him. He told Al-Mansur that he would call him back and relaxed on the bed, enjoying my ministrations. I soon had a mouthful of his essence, and savored it as it would be the last time I could taste him.
After his orgasm Paul lied back on the bed, looking at the sun streaming through the open window, and said nothing. I was much more forward then, so I asked him not if, but when would he send me to Al-Mansur. To my surprise he answered that he could not send me to Al-Mansur because he would probably kill me and he could not tell me to do that. The ball of ice melted instantly as I basked in his love. However, I knew my place and what had to be done. I convinced Paul to send me to him, but to ask for 2 weeks delay before delivery. Al-Mansur agreed gladly, understanding that Paul did not expect me to survive and thinking that he wanted a last fling with his slave girl.
I had a different reason for the delay. One of Paul’s secretaries, Ally, a 22 year old brunette with C sized tits was totally besotted with him, but was too shy and felt herself too unimportant to do anything about it. Within a week I had her submitting to Paul so that, when I was delivered to Al-Mansur, he would have someone to entertain and serve him. She became his second slave.
At the appointed time, Al-Mansur’s Citation X business jet
arrived at
The setting sun framed Sarah in a scene out of the Arabian
Nights. The two slave girls kneeling, hanging on every word, could be in any
Harem in the
“I am not going to describe the two weeks I spent with Al-Mansour. From the beginning I did not hope to survive, and indeed, I wished many times he would just kill me and be done with it. By the time my two weeks were up, I had been raped, in all my orifices by the sheik, his minions, and his dogs. His favorite stallion also had me as a reward for winning a race. He had my inner lips sliced off and the wound cauterized with a soldering iron. I was burned, beaten; everything you could think off, and many things you couldn’t, were done to me. I lost track of time, of place, of everything but the constant, unrelenting, pain and misery I was in.
One day, two of his men picked me up, by then I could not walk, and tossed me, a black, red, blue and purple mound of flesh, barely recognizable as a human being, in front of him. He stood beside the most beautiful, innocent and pretty oriental girl I have ever seen. “This is Mei Ling” He said. “She is only 16; I bought her from her parents just two weeks ago. She speaks perfect English and has observed, unseen, all that I’ve done to you. I haven’t touched her, nor have I allowed my men to even look at her”. He then read to both of us the letter he wrote to my master.
He appreciated my docility and wanted me back. He
acknowledged the damage caused to his property and offered Mei Ling in trade.
If my master agreed, Mei Ling would stay with Paul, and I would be returned to
Al-Mansur, who would then kill me, slowly, for his pleasure. In the unlikely
event that Paul preferred to keep me, Mei Ling would return to
Mei Ling rode the airplane back to the
At the warehouse, I was thrown naked on the floor, my face swollen, bruised, oozing blood and gore, while Mei Ling stood besides me, resplendent in a long, white silk Chinese dress. Paul and Ally arrived and he read the letter in front of me. I gazed adoringly at him for the last time. There was no way he would take me back in the shape I was in. Then he crouched besides me to say goodbye, and I heard him say:
“Come home”
I protested through my broken lips and missing teeth that I was damaged goods, and that Mei Ling should be spared my fate, but he ignored me; he wrapped me up in a blanket, picked my up in his arms and turned around to leave. Before I passed out I remember Mei Ling’s pitiful scream “Nooo!”
Two weeks later, as I lied in bed recovering from surgery, he told me to ask him for anything I wanted.
“Anything?” I said.
“Anything” he answered “If it is within my means, you shall have it”
I asked for a rain check. I knew, then, that he would never be able to part with me. I knew, then, what I would need to do”
The story over, the slave girls resumed breathing. Sarah continued:
“He never breaks his word. Tonight, I shall ask him to snuff me, publicly, on my birthday, and he shall”
Silence followed the last statement. There was really nothing to say. Paul always kept his word. If Sarah asked him to snuff her on her birthday, he would do it.
“There is more to the story. Tell us” Juggy asked.
The sun had set by now, but the evening air was still warm, scented with the aroma of late summer flowers. Sarah continued her story:
“Paul took me home. The best plastic surgeons and cosmetic dentists worked on me for over a year. After this, I had better looks than when I started. He also put me through CPA school. After I graduated, he had me mind his business affairs. That is when I found out how much my treatment had cost him. He could have bought two new prime slave girls for the price he spent on me.”
“You see. He loves you. He will never snuff you” Lila said. Juggy, more experienced, was silent.
“Lila” Sarah asked “You’ve been with us for six months. How many times a month does master use you?”
“Once or twice” She answered.
“Lila, you are 23” Juggy interjected, “The youngest of us. Master only uses you once or twice a month; even less with me, or any of the others. He sleeps with Sarah what, twenty times a month? Sarah is right. He is besotted with her. Too besotted for his own good.”
“That’s right Lila. He has 5 slave girls” Sarah explained. “Most men in his position have ten or more. His is a harsh world. He cannot be weak. He has to get rid of me or they will swarm over him like wolves”
“He is not going to like it” Juggy added.
“That is what I am afraid of” Sarah concluded.
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