Shannon\'s Decent into Slavery

Shannon’s Descent into Slavery

By Rasputtin Szczepanski

Chapter 9

For the next three weeks he trained her, used her and prepped for his journey.  He videotaped most of it for his personnel collection which he stored in a DVD case hidden behind a panel in the wall.  He had over 15 women documented that he had trained and then sold as slaves.  His first slaves documented with VHS, now he had a small HD camera that captured every detail. These videos held him over between sale of a slave and acquiring a new one.

He experimented with his knot tying, binding her in difficult and tight bondage, hanging her from the ceiling, filming her swinging helplessly. He used her repeatedly until his balls were sore. By three weeks, he began to grow bored. This is why he never had a full time slave. Through harsh punishment she grew to fear him but she was beginning to forget her old self and bond to him, to feel like he was the only thing that mattered in her life. He brought her food, controlled every moment of her day. 

It was time to cash in with her and make room for a new slave.

Late on a Sunday night, he gave her a heavy sedative, tied her up, put her mask on and put her in the carry bag. He put her in the RV and drove to the marina. He carried her in his bag onto his sailboat. His heart beat hard during this part of the operation, so loud that he was worried that others would hear it. It was the one area where he was most likely to be caught. Someone loading their boat with stores and luggage wasn’t suspicious. Someone doing it in the middle of the night was but he couldn’t risk carrying her in the bag during the day when it was busy.

The marina was quiet. The only sounds were the water lapping against the floating pier and a bell on a buoy far outside the harbor. He stepped onto his boat and gently put her down to unlock his cabin. After opening the door, he picked her up and took her down. She was still fast asleep. He opened a hidden door under the guest rack and laid her down in his hand crafted cage. 

The small cabin was a 4 foot by 5 foot cell. The walls, floor and ceiling were padded and designed to keep in noise. There was a few padeyes to secure slaves if needed. He made her comfortable, gave her a pillow and blanket and closed up the cage.

He drove his RV to storage, took out a suitcase worth of gear and took a cab back to the marina.  The light blue of the coming dawn filled the horizon outside the harbor. He smiled for he knew that he was to experience a blissful month at sea, alone with his slave.

He threw his bags down in his cabin and got his boat ready to get underway. He motored quietly out of the marina as the stars disappeared and the sky filled with the fiery colors of sunrise. By the time the sun peaked over the horizon, the shores of America were fading into the distance.

About nine a.m. he scanned the horizon for other ships. He found a good wind and course and then put the sailboat into autopilot. He looked around once more and then went down to the cabin. He had to keep his slave quiet until he was out of range of the coast guard so he mixed some more sedative into a glass of orange juice. He opened the cage, untied Shannon and led her out to the cabin. She was still groggy. He took off her mask, let her to the bathroom and when she was done, he had her drink the glass of orange juice. 

Her mouth was dry, she was thirsty and she drank the glass greedily. His cock swelled looking at her nakedness. He hated taking the risk but his needs outweighed his reluctance to risk capture by having her out so close to shore. He took her to the cabin and laid her face down onto the bed.  He unzipped his pants, took out his rock hard cock. He ran his finger on her shaved cunt. He had taught her to shave it smooth along with her legs and armpits every morning. The one morning she forgot, he hung weighted clamps on her pussy lips for three hours. After that, she never forgot. Her pussy was dry. He smacked her rump lightly, then a little harder, making a sharp slapping sound as palm met buttocks.  He moved his finger again and felt a hint of wetness.  He grabbed a lip of her pussy and pulled on it, opening her up. He could see the pink inside and it was beginning to glisten. He spit on his cock, wetting it and then pushed it into slowly. The feeling of wetness and heat was intoxicating. He slowly pushed in and out of her, slowly lubricating her, and then picking up the pace.

He laid on top of her, pumping his cock in and out of her. Shannon thought how heavy he was, he was knocking the air out of her. She enjoyed the feeling, his heavy frame trapping her against the clean smelling quilt laid out on the bed, his rock hard cock sliding in and out of her. She was nearing her climax and she tried not to think about it to avoid cumming before she was given permission to.  Before she reached a point where she would have to beg to cum, he pulled out of her, grabbed her shoulder, flipped her over and dragged her back down towards him. He grabbed her hair, slipped his slimy cock into her mouth and ejaculated down her throat.

When he was done, he patted her on the head and said “Good girl” for swallowing it all. He then put her hood back on and led her back in the cage. He decided to take another risk and left her hands unchained. She wouldn’t be able to get out anyway, he figured. He pushed her in and said “you may cum as many times as you wish while you are in here.”

Shannon was left in the dark. As she grew tired, she masturbated but the rolling motion of the boat lulled her to sleep before she came.

Tom zipped up, grabbed a beer from the fridge and went back topside. He scanned the horizon.  There was a fishing boat far behind him but nothing else. He smiled, took a sip of his beer and took the boat off auto. He sailed until evening. He knew the route to take, one that was out of the normal routes for merchant ships.  It was longer but the isolation was worth it.

When evening came, he lowered the main sail, set the rudder on auto and went below. He opened the cage. She was sleeping but she woke up when he opened the door. He grabbed her arm and lifted her out.  He took off her hood and attached a leash to her collar.

“Good morning slave,” he said.

She rubbed her eyes. “Good morning Master.”

“I want to show you its home for a few weeks.”  He took her leash and led her up the small ladder to the outside.  She looked around and wished that she still had her glasses.    The sun was setting, half of it still above the horizon.  The water shimmered with a golden radiance.  She couldn’t believe she was on a sailboat.

Tom sat down and Shannon kneeled down in front of him, laying her hands out on her thighs as he taught her.  “As you know, there is never escape for you.  You will be a slave for the rest of your life.  You can see that this is especially true here.  There is no escape and if you fall in the water you will drown.  There isn’t anyone for hundreds of miles.  I had a slave once that tried to jump off.  She made it over the side so I sailed off without her and she drowned.  They never even found her body because we were in the middle of the ocean.  I trust it though, so I will let it begin to earn the right to serve me and retain some ability to move around on your own.  Understand?”

       Shannon kept her face down but it was up enough where she could watch the sun as it dipped behind the horizon.  “Yes master,” she said as the tip of the sun flashed a brilliant green before disappearing.

       The air began to get cooler.  Tom unzipped his pants.  “Suck my cock.”

       Shannon scooted forward so that she was between his legs.  His cock was out and soft.  She took it in her mouth and began to suck on it.  It slowly engorged and she slid it in and out of her mouth.  Tom took a sip of his beer and looked out towards the darkening sky.  A star, perhaps a planet, began to shine brightly in the sky.  He leaned back and breathed in the ocean air.

       When he was hard and his beer empty, he ordered her to straddle him.  She climbed up on top of him, kneeling, one leg on each side of him.  She sat down and he grabbed her rump, pushing her back, his hand slipping his cock into her.  He guided her hips, leading her to rise up and down on his shaft.  He grabbed a tit and fondled it.  He played with her nipples until they were swollen.  He could tell she was aroused.  “You may cum on my cock, slave.”

       She leaned forward and began to fuck him earnestly.   His hand wrapped tightly around her shoulder, holding her tight.  She threw her head back, her body shuddered and her cunt clamped down on his cock, milking it.  Tom couldn’t help himself, with his other hand on her rump, he pushed her down and felt his cock spurt inside of her.  He groaned.  She panted, the feeling of him release inside of her dragging out her orgasm.   She moaned and leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder.  She could feel his cock twitch in her and the feeling delighted her.  She hugged herself tight against her master, feeling exhausted and exquisite with pleasure.

Later, he let her sleep on the floor on a rollaway floor mattress with a pillow and a quilt.  He kept her chained to the bed by a chain that locked into her collar.

In the weeks that followed, as he travelled eastward, Tom continued his training.  He hung her from her wrist from the main mast outside, dangling and tied up tightly with nylon ropes, with special attention made to her breast which he wrapped so that they stuck out and turned blue.   He made sure to have her cover her entire body with suntan lotion every morning to protect her beautiful pale skin.   He enjoyed watching her naked form hang in the open air, as if she was part of the ship. 

       Shannon developed a perverse pleasure in it.  She liked the way he looked at her with desire, how her naked skin felt exposed to the open sea air, the tingle she got in her pussy when she tugged on her wrist cuffs and determined that there was no way for her move herself from the mast.  She liked how he rubbed lotion on every part of her body.   She even loved the smell of coconuts from the lotion.  It reminded her of summer.

She became breathless when they sailed through storms and the sailboat would rock up and down on huge swells and the warm rain would pour down on top of her.  She would close her eyes and sometimes laugh when the sailboat pounded through a wave and dipped down a particularly steep swell.

       Sometimes he would come up, play with her nipples until they stood out, and then attach metal clips to them.  He would apply weights every five minutes, watching them pull down on the nipple.  Then he would attach two to her pussy lips and do the same.  He would watch as the rocking of the boat would make her wince and sometimes cry out in pain.  Then when he was aroused enough he would pull the clips off, untie her and fuck her mouth or her cunt out in the open, blowing his load and then tying her up again.

       He taught her to make breakfast, lunch, clean dishes, and make his bed.  He taught her a bit of boat handling but told her if he ever caught her trying to use the radio or the laptop, she would be punished.  She knew that his punishment was much worse than the normal pain sessions he administered.  She also knew that he enjoyed it so she didn’t want to give him even the slightest reason.  She avoided the small desk with the radio and laptop like it had the plague.

       He taught her how to present herself to any master, always stressing her primary purpose of pleasure. He kept her kneeling for hours, whipping her back and breast harshly with a short cat-o-nine tails when her back slouched.  He experimented with how much pain she could endure.  He would masturbate her while pushing her pain limit and after awhile, he was able to make her climax by simply pushing a pin into her breast.   He carefully controlled every minute of her day, structured to re-enforce good behavior and discourage thoughts of rescue or freedom.

Hanging from the mast, Shannon’s memories of her old life sometimes came back to her.  She wondered if her family and friends were looking for her.  She felt like she should be afraid and sad but she was enjoying her time on the sailboat.  Her body was craving the sexual stimulation.  Every evening and morning was beautiful.  Even when Tom tied her in painful positions, sometimes hanging her outside, and the other times inside, Tom ensured that the pain was followed by a mind-blowing orgasm.

While Shannon hung in the shade topside, Tom was below and in contact with his buyer via encrypted email.  He had done this particular transaction several times before.  One morning, after breakfast he removed her collar and her wrist and ankle bracelets.  She was completely nude.  He told her to go topside and wait.  She went up and kneeled near the wheel.

       He came up in a polo shirt and khaki pants, different from his normal attire of nothing at all to boxer shorts and a robe when it was cool.  He had shaved and combed his hair back and tied it into a pony tail.  He sat down and scanned the horizon and his radar screen.   He ordered Shannon to bring him a cup of coffee, which she did, presenting it to him as he taught her. He sipped and watched the radar screen. After about an hour, he spotted what he was looking for, a small fishing vessel. 

       It slowly approached and when it was close, it stopped and two men climbed down a rope ladder into a skiff it was towing.  Both men had large black backpacks strapped to their back.

       They skiff motor sputtered to a stop as the two men pull up to the back of the sailboat.  Somewhere above a seagull cried out at them.  Shannon peaked nervously up at the two men.  They were both Arabic and as they climbed onto the back of the sailboat, they greeted Tom warmly in accented English.  Tom offered them both beers.  One refused but the other one gladly accepted and twisted the cap off.  As they conversed amiably they glanced down at Shannon.

       Shannon sat with her palms up, her knees spread, her back straight and she looked at the ground, avoiding eye contact as she was taught.  She was conscious of her nudity and she could feel the men’s greedy eyes on her.  A slight breeze chilled her skin and her nipples rose to little bumps.  She knew that her body was desirous and the thought of the men wanting her for that purpose got her butterflies going in her stomach.

       “This one is a great one.  A shame she isn’t a virgin,” the larger of the two men said.  He slapped Tom on the back and laughed “You have no self control with your wares.”

       Tom smiled “This one came broken I’m afraid, but I admit, I do lack the self-control.  These are long journeys Mohammad.”

       “Yes, yes.”  The man put down the backpack, still smiling “which is why you are handsomely paid.”

       Tom unzipped the backpack and looked in.  “Honest and fair as always.  Please pass my respects to Mr. Jamid.”

       Tom and the two men made small talk, finishing their beers and then made their farewells.  The smaller man took a metal collar out of his backpack and clicked it into place around Shannon’s neck.  He attached a leash.  Shannon looked up, shocked.

       Tom placed his hand on the top of Shannon’s head and said “These are your new masters. Obey them.”

       She caught her breath, looking back at the ground, not daring to look up. Were they taking her?  She whispered “Yes sir,” and got up when someone tugged on the leash.

       Shannon followed the two men onto their skiff tied to the back of the sailboat. They started the motor and Shannon watched Tom and his sailboat float away. She didn’t know why but she started to cry.  Before she knew it, they were tying up to the fishing boat and then she was following one up the ladder.

       When she got aboard, her last look was at Tom looking somewhat wistfully at her from his sailboat as they put a hood over her head and brought her below.  That was the last she ever saw of him.

They brought her to a hidden compartment in the bottom of the boat and locked her leash to the floor.  She was in the dark for most of her journey.  The hold she was in smelled of brine and fish.  Before they got to shore, they bound her with rope and a gag and tried to place her in a box.  As they lowered her in, she began to panic and tried squirming out of their hands.  Her muffled cries were hushed as they pushed her down and locked the top over her.  The box was removed with boxes of fish and placed on a truck.  The truck travelled for what seemed hours.  Finally it was loaded to another ship where she was taken below decks, unboxed, hosed off with warm water, and placed in a locked room.

       The ship traveled for three days.  Shannon had the relative luxury of her own bed, sink and toilet.  All things that she was grateful for after the long and uncomfortable journey tied up in a box.  In this ship’s room, another Middle Eastern man brought her a plate of rice and lamb two times a day.  In the mornings she got eggs, toast and a pomegranate.  She never had a pomegranate before so it was a long exploration of peeling and eating the strange fruit.  She was mostly alone though.  On the last night, she thought she could hear another girl crying softly somewhere.  She thought about calling out to her but she didn’t want to bring attention to herself.

       On the third morning, she was awaken to the sound of doors opening and men shouting.  The disturbance grew closer until a man unlocked her door and yelled at her in Arabic.  He grabbed the blanket off her and she understood that he was telling her to get up. He tied something around her arm and when she looked down, she saw he had a syringe in his hand.  He grabbed her arm and slipped the needle into a vein.  It pinched but the pain was not that bad. He untied the rubber strap on her arm, pulled out the needle, then clipped a leash to her and turned her around and tied her arms into a leather arm binder.  He pulled the straps tight so that her arms were pulled tight behind her. 

       He grabbed the leash, jerked her up with it and pulled her into the passageway.  Shannon was shocked to see other women, bound like she was, eyeing her with the same sort of surprise.  Some had gags in their mouth.  There were black women, Indian, Asian and white.  All were naked except for the arm bindings. Strange Arab men were pulling them down the passage and up a steep staircase.

       They were led to a door that led to the weather decks.  The lead man opened it and walked out, a leash attached to two girls to his hand.  It was still dark outside and the scene was lightly lit with deck lights.  Once outside, they made a quick turn into a large metal box.  Shannon got one quick glimpse of stars before they were crowded inside.  A man said something in Russian and then the door was closed, leaving them in the dark.  She could tell that the ship was still at sea because the deck slowly rocked back and forth.  She could feel herself bump into the other nude bodies all bound like she was.

       One of the girls was speaking out loud in Russian.  Another girl answered and they talked frantically for awhile.   Shannon pushed herself back until she felt the cold steel wall and she slowly worked her way along it until she ran into someone else leaning against it.  She stopped there and slowly lowered herself down, using the side of the box as a brace until she was sitting on the floor.

       She was beginning to feel very good.  She was happy, tired but not ready for sleep, just numb to what was happening.  The Russian talk died down.  She could hear some girls crying softly to themselves but there was no panic. 

       Time went by quickly and soon, outside the sun had risen.  Light was sneaking in through a caged fan on the wall high above them and through numerous pinholes in the wall.  They were very small, cracks in the welds mostly.  Not enough to look through but after a few hours of darkness, Shannon’s eyes were adjusted to the darkness.  Most girls were sitting, some laying down, huddled and curled, their heads resting on each other.  Shannon dozed off.

       She woke briefly when there was movement and talking outside.  The ship moved as if bumped.  Then she drifted off again.  She was awoke when the box she was in suddenly lurched and began to swing.  The box was being lifted by something off the ship.  There was no screaming or crying inside the box, just the sound of heavy breathing and sometimes soft whimpering.  The box was placed onto a truck and after more sudden jolts and talking, the truck began to move.

       She dozed off again.  When she awoke, it was chillier in the box and she pushed herself up to the girl next to her to get warm.  There was the smell of urine coming from somewhere.  She wasn’t feeling as good as she did before.  Her eyes were still heavy and her thoughts cloudy.   The steady hum of the truck engine and the road passing beneath them lulled her back to sleep.

       When she woke up, it was warmer and the light was illuminating the inside of the box.  The road they were on was gravely and they were pulling to a stop.  She heard a car door open and then some men got out and talked in their Arabic.  There was laughing mixed in with their casual conversation. 

       Suddenly one of the Russian girls screamed, startling Shannon and waking her up to full clarity.  The girl screamed again and threw herself against the side of the box.   The talking stopped.  The girl yelled in Russian, sobbing and kicking at the door.   There were footsteps outside.  She screamed again and threw herself against the door this time.  She leaned against it, screaming.  The sound reverberated throughout the steel container making it sound ten times louder and Shannon wished to God she would shut up.  She would have covered her ears with her hands if she could.  The door suddenly opened, the girl fell off into the incredibly bright, redish-orange sand.  Shannon closed her eyes, blinded by the brightness.  She heard the girl recover though and began to yell in Russian.  The door closed with the Russian girl outside.

       She could hear her yelling still, but now it wasn’t as ear shattering as it was inside the metal box.  The voice was going away from the truck.  Suddenly it was quiet.  Nothing but the breathing from the other girls.  Then the Russian girl screamed.  She screamed and yelled, harder than she did inside.  She was in some type of pain, pleading in Russian.  Then the screaming stopped.  She was sobbing.  The noise was soft but still audible from inside the box.  

       Fear was creeping slowly creeping into her.  She had controlled it after she was initially abducted but now it was returning along with a deep guilt for letting herself get into this situation.

       A few words by the men were intermingled with the Russian girl’s crying. Rough, mocking words in Arabic spoken as if there was some exertion involved in their unseen actions.  Then after a few minutes it was quite again.  They listened until there were footsteps and the back door opened, with the painful blinding light.  Shannon forced herself to look.  There was nothing but desert outside.  Two Arabic men lifted the Russian girl who was now quietly sniffling.  Her face and the front of her body were covered in sand.  They pushed her into the box before closing the door again. 

       It was dark again and with her eyes blinding by the bright sand, she could see the Russian girl.  She could hear her crying softly and another girl speaking softly to her in Russian.  The truck soon started again and she began to realize how thirsty she was.  She wondered how long she had been asleep.  It seemed like days.  The box was warmer now, the air thick and foul.  As the day drew on, more women talked.  The truck stopped at one point at some sort of checkpoint.   There was talking and the door opened.  A man in a uniform looked in and spoke harshly an Arabic man standing next to him.  He shut the door, locked it and the discussion continued.  The voices stopped, a car door was opened, then shut, and then the truck started up again.

       By the end of the day, she was miserable.  Her lips were dry, and the thought of drinking water nearly drove her insane.  She had peed where she sat as many of the other girls did.  Her shoulder was cramped.  The tight bind made it hard for her to lean back against anything.  The floor was soiled with urine so she didn’t want to lay down.  Other girls were talking but no one was speaking in English.

       As it grew dark again, the truck slowed down and then backed up.  The beeping reverberated through the box.  The beeping stopped and the engine turned off.  The door opened and the girls were looking at a loading dock at a building.  A dozen Arabic men stood looking in.  They began to reach in and pull girls out.  A supervisor was looking them over with a computerized tablet in his hand.  He stopped and examined each one and occasionally yelled at one of the men that Shannon suspected was the driver.  She watched as each girl was brought into a large room lit with fluorescent bulbs that hummed in the early night air.  A man with a hose sprayed the girl down, eliciting shrieks and screams.

       When it came to her turn, she was terrified.  They grabbed her arm and pulled her forward.  The supervisor looked at her appraisingly, smiling and nodding his head.  She was jerked forward and the water was suddenly thrust on her.  It was luke-warm, not freezing cold as she thought.  The person holding her dragged her to a door and then down a staircase.  They down a hallway filled with doors. 

       He stopped at one and slid a card down the door handle.  There was a green light and a click and he opened the door.  He led her into small room with a bed and a bathroom.  He pulled her in and stepped behind her.  He untied her arm binder and took it off.  Shannon’s arms fell to her sides.  She brought her arms up, rubbing them, bringing the blood flow back into them.  He pushed her down on the bed and then walked out, closing the door behind her.

       She saw several water bottles on floor and immediately got up and drank it.  She opened the second bottle and then drank half that bottle as well.  She looked into the bathroom.  There was a hole in the floor for a toilet, with a spray nozzle on the wall next to it.

       After exploring the room she laid down on the small bed.  She stared at the wall.  It was made of cinderblocks and painted white.  Several people had carved their names into the wall and Shannon thought maybe she should do the same.  She couldn’t find anything in the room to carve with and as she laid there thinking about it, she fell asleep.

       She awoke when the door opened.  An older woman with a scarf over her head brought in a plate with pita bread, hummus and a salad made of chopped cucumbers.  She also replaced the water bottles.  She didn’t look at Shannon who stared at her from her position on the bed.  Instead she focused on her task before departing.

       Shannon sat on her bed and slowly ate her meal.   When she was done she put the plate down on the floor and then laid down.   Her body and mind were physically exhausted by the long ride.   She missed the sailboat and Master Tom.  She quickly fell back to sleep.  This time she slept for several hours before she woke up and couldn’t sleep any more.   She was chilled so she got under the covers and laid there, thinking about how she had gotten here and wondered what would happen next.  How did she ever let herself get into this position?  She really was a slave now, like the women in all those photos she used to look at and masturbate to.  The thought triggered those butterflies that led to her finger slowly dipping between her legs to rub up and down between her soft lips.

       She slowly fingered herself, pinching her nipples, spreading her legs, rubbing furiously until she came and then drifted back to sleep.  She was abruptly awoken by two women with scarves around their head.  There were no windows so there was no way for her to know what time of day it was.  They opened the door and walked into the room.  One grabbed the empty plate of food while the older one grabbed Shannon’s arm and encouraged her to get up.  She spoke in Arabic.   She didn’t put a leash on her but instead guided her outside the door and down the hallway.  At the end, they went through a door into what looked like it could have been at one time a community shower and bathroom.  There was a bathtub set up and two other women were waiting.  They brought her to the bathtub and encouraged her to get in.  Shannon didn’t understand any of the words but they were kinder and gentler than that of the men.  She got into the tub and the water was pleasantly warm.  One of the women had rolled up her sleeves.  She began to bath Shannon, rubbing soap into her skin, scrubbing her, pouring warm water over her head.   Shannon enjoyed the feeling.  She had never been to a spa but she imagined this is what it would feel like.  Compared to what she had endured the last couple of months, this was being pampered.  The woman scrubbed every inch of her and massaged her scalp vigorously before pouring warm water over it to wash out the soap.

       When the bathing and scrubbing was done, she pulled the plug and encouraged Shannon to stand up.  They guided her out of the tub and dried her off.  They then led her to a table and lifted her up to sit on it.  One of the women brought a bowl of shaving cream and scissors.  One woman spread Shannon’s legs and then clipped the fine, thin public hair between her legs.    They must have thought that she might protest because the other woman held Shannon’s arms behind her.  When she was done, both women applied the lather over Shannon’s sex and up and down her legs.  They produced razors and shaved Shannon clean.  They lifted her arms and shaved her underarms.  They then brought her to a shower and cleaned off the remaining shaving cream.  They toweled her off again and then laid her down on the table.  The produced some musky smelling oil and rubbed it up and down her body.  They stroked and rubbed it into her breast and belly.  Her nipples tingled as the women’s rough hands rubbed the oil in.  When they were done, they sat her up and began to tease and comb her hair.  The tugged ruthlessly at knots that had formed since her captivity.   A blow-dryer was plugged in and used to help manage her hair.  Another woman brought in makeup and began to apply it to Shannon’s face.

       When they were done, they stood her up and admired their work.   One woman grabbed her hand and led her out of the room and down a series of hallways that led to stairs going up.  They went up several flights of stairs until it opened up to an outdoor patio on the roof.  The open sky was before her and it was either dawn or dusk, Shannon’s internal clock couldn’t figure it out.  There were tables being set up in the middle of the roof area. Young men put down table cloths and plates of food.  The tables were low to the ground and instead of chairs there were large pillows circling all the tables.  The ground was covered in large Persian rugs.  Around the edged were metal poles with a curved top.  At the end of them was a chain connected to manacles.  Some of them had naked women already secured in them, hanging with just enough length so that the women were able to stand on their feet.  Some hung with their eyes closed.  Others glanced around nervously.  Portable heaters, spewing propane heat were staggered throughout the area, spaced between each metal pole.

       Shannon was handed to a man in what looked like a long white shirt that went all the way down to the floor.  He grabbed her by the arm and brought her to a free pole.  He grabbed her wrist and brought them up to clasp the manacles to them.  The insides were padded and fit snuggly on her wrist.  He adjusted them so her arms were held over her head and then he left her there.  She watched as he went back and grabbed another girl that was brought up to the roof.

       She tugged on the chains.  She was fastened tight.  The idea of her being displayed naked in the room like a piece of furniture sunk into her mind.  She could feel her nipples stiffen and the juices in her cunt begin to flow.  She squirmed, annoyed that she could not touch herself.  She squinted, trying to see all the room.  Without her glasses she was blind to things distant from her. The room continued to be full of activity and soon a full spectrum of food and drink were laid out.  A bar with expensive looking wines was placed in a corner.  Several hookahs were placed on rugs on other parts of the roof.  Somewhere, someone flipped a switch and modern Arabic music began to play over a loudspeaker.

       Men, in suits and some in the long white Arabic clothing began to filter in.  They chatted and laughed with each other.  It was turning into a party and everyone was being social with each other but ignoring the 25 women hanging on display around the edges of the roof.  Shannon looked up.  It was a cloudless sky and the stars shined brighter than she had ever seen before.  She had lucked out and was near one of the propane heaters.  It was keeping her warm as the night became chilly.

       Some men sat and ate, others argued around the hookah, puffing at it like a character in Alice in Wonderland.  Some men began to walk slowly around and look at the women.  One man that Shannon had seen before talked excitedly, gesturing at the girl and debating in Arabic.  He was fat and looked like a merchant selling his wares.  She couldn’t tell if they were arguing or if it was just the language that made it sound like they were.

       A man in a suit walked up to Shannon and looked her over.  He took a breast in his hand and lifted it, as if feeling its weight.  He pinched the nipple and rolled it in his fingers.  Then he moved on to another girl.

       As the evening drew on, this happened more regularly.  Different men appraised her, trying to determine if she was worth the price the owner was offering.  Most fondled her but some lifted her lips, looking at her teeth.

A man in a traditional Arabic outfit approached her.  He was older, in his early fifties she thought.  He was fit and lean though.  He discussed her in Arabic with the fat merchant.  The buyer stepped forward and put his hand on her mouth, pushing her lip up and checking her teeth.  His hand went down and squeezed a breast, then went down lower and he slid his finger into her pussy.  She gasped.  The finger spread between the lips and slowly pushed into her hole.

       He looked her in the eye and spoke with a thick accent “You are American?”

       “Yes sir.”

       “Were you a prostitute?”

       “No sir.”

       He ruminated, “Why are you so wet.”

       “I don’t know sir.”  Oh, she knew but the thought made her blush.

       “How old are you?”

       “18,” she answered.

       “You look much younger.  Are you trained as a slave?”

       “Yes, sir.”

       He took his finger out and put it towards her mouth.  “Suck my finger clean.”

       She opened her mouth and as he stuck his finger in her mouth, she sucked on it, tasting herself.

       The fat merchant looked disturbed.  Shannon thought that perhaps he did not understand English.  The man removed his finger and began to argue with him.  Then the fat merchant smiled and shook his hand.  Then they walked off.  The man went to grab some food and Shannon had the sneaking suspicion that she had just been bought for a large deal of cash.

       As if to confirm her suspicion, a man came over to her and unhooked her from the chains.  He grabbed her arm and took her off the roof and down the stairs.