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.
Passing the baton Ch 1
That night, Sarah prepared to go to Paul’s room, as she did
most nights; only this night would be different. She showered carefully and
trimmed her red bush again. She regarded herself in the mirror, an image of
female perfection. Her green eyes took in her figure; trim, flat waist, flaring
slightly at the hips. Long legs, firm, well curved. Small perky breasts, with pointed pink nipples. Alabaster skin, with but a hint of freckles around her small nose.
Yes, she was beautiful. Not a trace on her of those two weeks in
She passed by the dungeon and picked up a new bamboo cane and a ball gag. Paul had restraints in his room. She sighed and headed upstairs. She knocked on his door. He opened the door, smiling at the sight of her nude body; his dick, instantly erect. Even after seventeen years, she still had that effect on him. He had other slaves; most men in his class had even more than he did, but Sarah was his favorite. He seldom used any of the others. He approached her, and then he saw the cane and the gag. He stopped, surprised; he hadn’t whipped or beaten her in years. He opened his mouth to ask her for an explanation, but she touched his lips with her finger. She kissed him and smiled, sadly at him, giving him the cane and gag.
“You are going to need this tonight darling” She never called him master when they were alone.
“I don’t understand”
“You owe me a gift. Remember
“Of course I do love. How could I not?”
“I want to claim my gift” She whispered.
“Sure my love, what do you want?”
“I want you to snuff me on my birthday, in public, next month.”
They stood, facing each other, wrapped in a thick, cold blanket of silence. Finally he said:
“Ridiculous! Nonsense! Never! I refuse!” His face red, and spit coming out of his mouth, as he shook his head. “I shan’t do it” His knuckles white on clenched fists.
“You have never backed out on your word Paul Collins, and you are not going to start now” Sarah said “And you know it”
Her five feet, nude body, standing in front of him, seemed to tower over his 6 foot 2 inch frame.
“Why?”
“Because you have to do it” Sarah was glad that the conversation took a more rational turn. “Everyone knows how you feel about me. You haven’t even whipped me in, what, ten, fifteen years? You almost don’t use the other girls”
“That’s because I love you, I care for you”
“I am your slave girl. You are not supposed to care for me”
“But I do”
“That’s your weakness. Your peers know of it. You cannot afford not to kill me. You’ll lose everything if you don’t”
“I don’t care!”
“I do” Sarah said, her face serious. “I love you Paul, I love you more than you can imagine, but I cannot let you throw all your life away because you want me more than your common sense. So, keep your word to me. I want you to snuff me on my birthday. In public. In front of your friends and colleagues. That’s what I want you to do”
She could see his eyes, wide with repressed anger; his face, red, flushed with blood. The blood vessel pulsating at his temple. She handed him the cane and gag. He took them, wordless. She walked to the closet and picked up the leather shackles and put them on her wrists. She approached him.
“I told you, you would need them” She smiled at him. He wasn’t smiling.
He took her shackles and snapped them together, then hanged her from the hook in the middle of the room. He pulled her up on her tip toes, and gagged her. Then he beat her. Hard. Long and hard. He beat her back, her ass, the back of her thighs. She took it, silent. He moved to her front. The front of her thighs, her belly, her breasts. She whimpered. After his arm tired, and the bamboo cane shattered, her skin was striped with wheals from the caning; shining with sweat. Her face, streaked with tears, gasping for air through her gag.
“Take it back!” He screamed at her, removing her gag “Take it back! Ask for anything else, anything”
“Snuff me on my birthday, in public” She said, exhausted.
Roaring with rage, he took her down and, without releasing her hands, threw her over his shoulder. Effortlessly he carried her to the dungeon. Swearing, cursing, frothing at the mouth, he carried her. Lila, who was doing some small cleaning task, kneeling in the corridor, found herself flying through the air, from a kick from his bare foot. She recovered, on the floor, in time to see his back, with an unconscious Sarah slung over his shoulder and the door to the dungeon, slam open, lock shattered, from another vicious kick from her master.
She ran, panicked looking for Juggy. She had never seen Paul, her master, in such a state.
“Juggy, Juggy” She sobbed “He’s killed her. He’s killed her and he is taking her to the dungeon” Lila was barely coherent by now.
Juggy got up from her bed; the slaves were not kept chained at night in Paul’s house, (another sign of weakness, Juggy thought) and ran to the dungeon followed by Lila, still slobbering.
When they entered the dungeon, through the door, hanging askew from its hinges, they saw Sarah, suspended from her wrists, from the center of the room. Her body, criss crossed with angry red wheals, hanging limp, her head, fallen over her chest. Her breasts however, still moving from her labored breath, testified that she was still alive. Paul, whip in hand, cuting into her fiercely, but in his anger, his lashes hit the walls just as often as they hit the limp form of Sarah, who barely whimpered with each lash.
Juggy approached Paul, and put her arms around him, barely avoiding the lash herself. She did not say anything. Nothing needed to be said. Paul dropped the whip, and let himself be guided back to his room.
“Watch her” Juggy whispered to Lila as she left the dungeon.
Lila knelt at the shattered door, looking at Sarah, hanging, skin torn in several places, bleeding. Lila did not understand, or perhaps she understood too well what had happened here. Her face folded over her chest, she cried.
In his room, Paul took Juggy violently. He ravished her pussy, which she liked. He had not been with her for more than a month, further proof that he was too besotted with Sarah, and he had only loaned her to a friend three weeks ago, so she was really horny, very easy to arouse. Juggy responded to his attentions as a slave girl being ravished by her master, gladly and easily reaching her climax. He then threw her on his bed and turned her over. He took out his frustration on her ass. Without preliminaries he raped her ass, not caring about her pleasure or his. The pain that the unlubricated insertion caused him was as irrelevant to him as the one it caused her. Only the anger, the immeasurable anger, and the deep sense of loss, which tore at his heart and loins, mattered. He came in Juggy’s ass, his orgasm as unsatisfying as the whipping had been. Juggy sobbed throughout her ass raping; not so much from the pain of her buggering, to which she was somewhat used to, but from the depth of her soul, she cried for Sarah and for her master. Through her ass and her ass cheeks she felt his pain, and took it upon herself.
After spilling himself inside Juggy, Paul, calmer now, pushed her to the side. She immediately knelt on the floor, appeasing. He walked out of the room. Juggy remained kneeling, waiting for, she knew not what. He walked back to the dungeon, where Lila still watched over Sarah, sobbing. He kicked her out and ordered her, crying, back to her room.
Paul approached Sarah and released her from the chain, freeing her hands. Falling on his knees, with her in his arms he hugged her close. Painfully she hugged him back. No words were needed. He kissed he neck, and then, finally, shaking, he cried.
Passing the Baton Ch 2
The next month was frantic for Sarah and Juggy. Both slaves and Lila had been sworn to secrecy over this matter. The other slaves could not know the details. As far as their world was concerned, Master had decided to snuff Sarah, who, as a matter of course consented to it, although her consent wasn’t really necessary. Sarah was thus set as an example of the behavior a devoted slave girl should exhibit, and all was right in the world.
All the arrangements had to be made, and invitations sent. Paul left all arrangements to Sarah. He spent most of his free time locked in his room. Sarah would sleep with him most of the time, and he would usually have tender sex with her. He would only occasionally call for a slave to take out his frustration on. Sarah would always send Lila in for these sessions, since she was in on the secret. Lila behaved very well, was duly submissive, and took the punishments (that were really meant for Sarah) stoically. Sarah and Juggy were very proud of her.
Sarah needed to complete one more task: Juggy needed to be trained to take over the household duties and, with Paul’s agreement become his new confidential secretary, once Sarah was gone. Sarah really hated making this arrangements with Paul because he would always call for a slave after one of these conversations, and for obvious reasons, Sarah would have to send poor Lila in. She offered to take the punishments herself, after all, this had all been her idea, but Paul refused to beat her any more.
The month passed, and the final arrangements were done. They
would travel to
The night before Sarah’s birthday, in their room at the palace, they made love for the last time. Paul tenderly bathed Sarah, massaged her skin with fragrant oils, and kissed her all over her body, her breasts, all the way down to her sex. She had shaved her neatly trimmed bush for the event. Paul was kind of surprised at this. He licked and sucked at the newly bare skin, before taking her clit into his mouth, and sucking it deep. He drunk all of her essence when, under his unremitting attention, she came for him. She took him inside her, for the last time, as the sun was rising but when, by the speed of his thrusts she detected his climax was near, she stopped him. “I want to taste you one last time” Sarah said as she took him into her mouth and with her lips and tongue sucked him off to orgasm. She held his come in her mouth for a long time, tasting and savoring it, before swallowing.
The ceremonies would start at noon, but some things needed to be prepared first. Paul went off to the bath, accompanied by Fatima, a young slave loaned to him by the sultan, who could not imagine Paul managing with only three slaves. Not wanting to be thought inhospitable, which would be the worst insult in his culture, he provided Paul with three pretty slaves, Fatima, Irene and Sulayla.
Sarah gave Juggy and Lila her final instructions.
“Stay with him at all times, and watch him closely. You know what to do. Do not let me down”
Juggy and Lila could barely contain their tears. “Trust us. You will be proud of us”
“I already am” Sarah said as she walked to the dungeon.
Ch3
The guests and their entourages had all arrived by
Each guest bore the following invitation engraved in gold embossed vellum:
Dear X
Paul Collins requests the
pleasure of your company next October 15th at the palace of Sheik
Al-Hussaim, in
Brunch will be served at
Entertainment will start
at
At
Only invitees and up to
four slaves will be permitted to attend this exclusive engagement.
You must bring this
invitation to be let in the grounds.
RSVP to:
Sheik Al-Hussaim,
Ministry of the Interior,
As each guest and entourage arrived, they were escorted to the garden by two attractive slaves dressed in flowing pantaloons and chemise of sheer silk organdy, in striped green and violet, the colors of the Sheik. In the garden, a semicircle of couches had been set up around a central platform, to provide excellent viewing to all the guests. Each couch was identified with the name of the guest. The couches were framed by two low tables; on one of them, a wide selection of viands was arrayed. The food was also prepared according to the guest’s religious persuasion, Halal, Kosher and regular. The second table contained an assortment of crops, small whips, satin ties and cuffs, to better encourage the slaves in their ministrations. Beverages were not kept at the tables, so as not to offend practicing Muslims, and also because there was no need. A slew of gorgeous slave girls stood at the ready to deliver any beverage a master desired.
As each guest arrived at the garden, Paul and the Sheik welcomed them, escorted them to their assigned couches and introduced them to Sarah who, clad in a sheer white sundress stood at their side. Many of the guests had already met her, of course.
When Al-Mansour arrived last, he was accompanied by only two slaves.
Paul welcomed him “Salaam Aleichem Al-Mansour, old friend” he said,bowing slightly. Sarah, holding on to her master’s arm noticed the tension in his arm, belying the warm welcome.
“Aleichem Salaam old friend” He responded “I see the years have been kind on you”
“You know of course my slave Sarah” Paul continued gesturing at her.
“I know you well my beauty, from better times” Sarah responded with a curtsy.
“I hope you will serve me today, before you are impaled” He said cruelly as he sat on the couch.
“She can serve you right now. All the guests have arrived already” Paul gently pushed Sarah towards the obese man in the couch.
She knelt by the obese old man, her old nemesis, as Paul and the Sheik moved away to socialize with the other guests.
“I remember those times well” Al-Mansour
continued, as Sarah made her way through his robes. It was apparent that he
hadn’t bathed in a while. “I am retired now, and no longer have the income to
afford those luxuries as much.” He smiled and continued “I only have the
pleasure of snuffing my own slaves two or three times a year now.” By now Sarah
had reached his limp penis, and was trying to coax it into action while doing
her best not to gag at the smell. It had been many years since she had to do this
to any one other than her scrupulously clean master. After the
The brunch went on, as the men cavorted with their slave girls, and enjoyed the sounds of music that a band, hidden behind a bamboo screen, provided.
After Sarah had received and swallowed Al-Mansour’s come, she excused herself to go serve other guests. Most of the guests wanted Sarah to serve them in some fashion or other. Many used her ass, “To get her ready for the spike” they said. Sarah tried to show them a good time, and to be a sport about this. Only from time to time she glanced at the spike that stood up, just in front of the stage flanked by two wooden supports that extended the stage around it. Once or twice she shuddered at the thought of what was to happen to her.
Paul meanwhile loitered near his couch, flanked by his two
slaves, Lila and Juggy. Fatima, Irene and Sulayla hovered nearby.
Or so it seemed to the casual observer. Lila made sure he
ate as much of the delectable viands as she could force down on him, and Juggy made sure he drank as much of the beer as she could
get him to. Juggy’s job was the easier one, even
though it also entailed disposing of the used beer, when it was time for that.
Shortly before
Ch4
At
All eyes were riveted on the stage. Promptly, Sarah emerged from the center of the stage, where a cleverly hidden hatch allowed access. With her was Juggy and a second tall and strong, black slave girl dressed in the Sheik’s colors.
Sarah let her white sundress slip to the ground to show her nude body to the crowd. There was a round of applause as she slowly pivoted, her arms raised to the sky.
Clad only in her leather collar, she approached the edge of the stage, by the stake, and spoke into a microphone:
“Masters: Today I prove my devotion to Paul, my master. I am proud to have worn his collar for seventeen years. Today I return it to him.”
At this words, Juggy stepped behind her and removed her collar from her neck, laying it on a small table, the only furniture on the, otherwise bare, stage.
Sarah then continued:
“I asked my master not to let me wear another man’s collar, and he graciously consented”
A greater round of applause resounded in the garden.
Sarah glanced at her master’s couch where Paul regarded her, his eyes wild, but no one would see him, all eyes fixed on her.
“Enjoy the show!” Those were her final words as she approached the spike.
From the stage, two broad wooden supports extended beside the spike. The tip shone with oil. Turning over, with her back to the public Sarah bent over, giving the public a view of her white, perfect ass. While Juggy supported her upper body, the black slave painted her puckered anus with melted butter. This was not strictly necessary as her anus had already been lubricated with Vaseline backstage, but it added a nice dramatic touch that the audience did not fail to appreciate. Juggy repositioned the microphone so it was now aimed towards the spike.
Sarah then stepped over the spike, standing on the wooden supports, and squatted over it, inserting the tip of it on her ass. She whimpered loudly, more for the audience than from any real pain. She again looked at the crowd, and then placed her arms over the shoulders of Juggy and the black girl.
“I love you Juggy” She whispered in Juggy’s ear “Take good care of him”
And then, she lifted her feet off the supports. Her weight now being held by the two girls, the spike entered deeper in her ass. Her loud whimper, taken up by the microphone, was real this time. Her feet tried to reach the supports, but they had been retracted partially into the stage. Her feet then tried to grasp the spike, as the girls slowly lowered her onto it.
Frantically her feet tried to slow her descent, but failed. As the spike slowly penetrated into her bowels, Sarah began to scream.
In his couch Paul attempted to stand, but with Fatima and Irene holding him down, he could not. He tried to say something, but Lila kissing his mouth silenced him. Sulayla standing besides them had a large glass of clear liquid ready, and as soon as Lila released his mouth, she delicately poured it into him. To anyone looking, a master, hedonistically oblivious to the suffering of his former slave was having a grand old time.
The guests were most definitely not oblivious to the show on the stage; neither were the slaves, at least the ones who were not busy blowing their masters. Some masters were engaged in conversation with a favored slave. Judging by the faces on the slaves, the topic under discussion was particularly unpleasant, for the slave that is.
On stage, the spike was about a foot and a half into Sarah’s ass, and the two slaves on the stage were just helping keep her straight. Although still in terrible pain, Sarah managed to regain a measure of control. With tear streaked eyes, she glanced at her master and noticed, with relief, that he was being mostly smothered by the slave girls. She dropped further on the spike and cried out.
Alysha, the black slave girl, although attractive in her own right, was not kept by the Sheik for her looks. She was in charge of keeping order and discipline in the harem. Even his wives were under her authority when in the harem, where no one except the Sheik stood above her. She now jumped down from the stage, on to the grass and inserted a transverse rod, about 6 inches under Sarah’s ass. This would stop her descent at the right distance and prevent the spike from piercing her diaphragm. That could kill her and end the show prematurely. At ten, she would remove the rod and allow the spike to finish its appointed job.
On the stage, Juggy knelt behind Sarah, her hands on both sides of her torso, keeping her straight. Sarah’s hands clawed at her belly but, her fingernails, trimmed short, did no damage to her immaculate alabaster skin.
As her asscheeks contacted the rod, Alysha took Sarah’s feet and tied them behind the pole with a red thong. Now she stood there, spike firmly inserted deep in her ass, and her pussy gaping open for everyone to see. She then placed a second pole behind Sarah, and tied her torso with a thong also to the pole. This would now keep her upright, and relieve Juggy of her duties so she could return to her master. In all, Sarah was suspended by the rod about four feet above the ground. She would remain there for the next 8 hours, until the rod was removed at 2200 hours.
A group of slave girls now dismantled the stage, which left Sarah as the only decoration in the center of the garden. Without music, only the sounds of the reveler’s lovemaking, the occasional sharp snap of a whip or crop, or the squeal of a slave girl, interrupted the loud whimpers of Sarah’s suffering.
Most masters approached Sarah’s pole. Step ladders had been placed in the front and back of the pole, so masters would have better access. Most masters just wanted to see and touch her asshole, violated by the spike, or her pussy, but others took advantage of the opportunity to fondle her breasts. Some even tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t really answer much.
Paul also approached the pole, Juggy discreetly holding him straight, and he even climbed on the front ladder to talk to her. Despite all the drink poured into him, he remained quite lucid.
“Master” Sarah said weakly, when she saw him.
“Dearest” he answered, when he was sure he wouldn’t be heard “I understand what you’ve done. Believe me”
“I want you to be proud of me my master”
“I am as proud as any masssster can be of his slave” he couldn’t help slurring his speech. “I shall never forget you if I live to be a hundred, and I love you like I’ve never loved anyone”
“Thank you master” Sarah whispered, tears in her eyes “Now go. Go back to your couch and leave me to suffer here. Go before you embarrass yourself”
Other people were approaching, so Sarah addressed Juggy “Take him back to the couch, hurry, and get rid of the stairs”
Juggy half dragged Paul back, while skillfully pretending that she was the one being dragged away from her friend. With a sign she asked Alysha to remove the ladders, and climbing on top of Paul, she inserted his semi erect member in her pussy, as she pretended an excitement that she did not feel, and a love that she did not have to pretend.
Dinner was duly served, as the clock wound its way to the appointed time. By this time Paul was quite drunk, and realized he had to barf. Juggy noticed this just in time. She rapidly arranged the other slave girls as cover, but not in time to find a bucket or other container. So she kissed her master’s mouth, her own mouth wide open, and managed to prevent him from disgracing himself. Lila also helped, and by the time he was done retching, not a clue was left to inform any passerby of what had happened there. The two slave girls went discreetly to the restrooms and disposed of the evidence there.
At
As the spike entered freely deeper into Sarah, she screamed loudly again, as it perforated her diaphragm and entered her thorax. Its sharp tip tore into one of Sarah’s lungs. Her screams now became a gurgle, as she started to cough up blood. Every time she coughed, the spike tore a larger and larger hole in her lung. It took her a long time to die. As she coughed and died, dark frothy blood covered her breasts and chest, until the tip of the spike could be seen, tenting the skin behind her right collarbone. By now her feet, tied behind the pole had reached the ground, and she was kneeling on the grass. She coughed twice more and was silent.
Ch5
Paul woke up with a whopping hangover. He tried to get up out of bed, but almost fell to the floor. Juggy was there with a large glass of icy cold water. He drunk it up, and it felt like the greatest treasure in the world.
He looked around the room. He had been here more than once. It was the room he usually used, in the palace of his friend Sheik Al-Hussaim. He had never been in it with Juggy though. Juggy stood by the bed, nude. She had a light tan that contrasted with her black hair. Her breasts were a size D, hence her name. He acquired her two years ago, and had not paid much attention to her; until now. Now she was his head slave, and following Sarah’s request, his new confidential secretary. The memory of Sarah’s sacrifice brought a sob to his chest. Juggy hugged him to her large boobs and kissed him.
“I will try to be as good to you as she was” She said while kissing his ear. “Please let me care for you, as she did” He nodded as she refilled his glass of water and gave him two aspirins. He drank the water and the aspirins down, and was about to ask for coffee when Juggy clapped her hands, the door opened and in came Lila and Fatima with the coffee.
After two cups of coffee, he felt more human.
“Juggy, make the arrangements to return. Call our pilots at their hotel. I want to depart at three”
“Inmediately” Juggy said and stepped out.
Fatimah and Lila accompanied him to the bathroom. A hot bath had already been drawn. Fatimah removed his drawers. When he tried to take a leak, she shook her head, smiling at him, knelt in front of him, and took his cock in her mouth. Shrugging he released his piss in her.
“They don’t have the masters use the toilets” Lila explained ‘She told me they are only used when foreigners come with their wives”
Paul had never received this service before. He guessed that
the Sheik assumed Sarah was taking care of his needs herself, and that she was
too jealous of him to let another slave do it. Oh well. When
in
After his whiz, he got into the enormous bath, and Lila followed him in. Fatimah rinsed her mouth with mouthwash and also got in the tub. Both of them soaped him up, rubbed him up and down, and cleaned him meticulously. Fatimah also soaped up his face and gave him the greatest shave he’d had in years.
When they were done drying him they dressed him. By now he was beginning to enjoy all this attention. While he was in the bathroom, someone, Irene and Sulayla, he assumed, had cleaned the room and made the bed.
Juggy returned with the International Herald Tribune. “The pilots have been informed. I have also informed the Sheik that you wish to leave this afternoon. He said he is sorry you are not staying longer, but he understands”
Paul nodded absentmindedly. He was thinking about
“Go ask the Sheik if he will sell
The headache gone, Paul sat down to read the paper. Soon Juggy returned.
“The Sheik will gladly give
Paul nodded.
“Also master, there is this note for you” Juggy hands him a handwritten note. The signature on it: Al- Mansour
“My friend:
Before you leave, won’t you please visit my palace? I have something to show you that I’m sure you will want to see.
Please be here at your convenience this afternoon.
Al-Mansour
P.S.
Bring your slaves.”
“Inform Mr. Mansour that we will
be there at
“Now what is the old bastard up to this time?” Paul brooded, as he drinks his third cup of coffee.
Ch 6
“Master” Juggy stands submissively, eyes downcast, dressed in sheer red pantaloons and a small vest, also red, that unsuccessfully tries to hide her breasts.
“Hmm” Paul looks up from his paper.
“Sir, about the flight tonight. Will you want Lila with you in the cabin?”
“No. You are first girl now, you fly in the cabin. Lila can be crated in the hold, the way she came. You know this already.” Paul’s voice shows a slight irritation at having to deal with this detail. Did Sarah choose wrong? He wonders.
“Sir, with all due respect, this slave has no clothes; for the cabin, I mean. Lila is the same size as Sarah was; that is why I asked”
Paul’s eyes widened as he understands. He knows how uncomfortable for the slaves crating is, especially for such a long flight, it would be astonishing that a slave would rather be crated than fly in the cabin. Juggy’s question however shows her to be intelligent. Her slave clothes would not be appropriate to travel in the cabin, clear customs and immigration and such. Sarah must have forgotten this detail. She can be forgiven this lapse; she did have many other things on her mind.
“See if the Sheik can see me”
Half an hour later, Paul is escorted to the Sheik’s audience room. This is the central room in his palace. The Sheik sits in a leopard skin divan, surrounded by a few friends, as well as several slave girls. While five of them wear his colors, the others wear different liveries, those of his friends.
“My dear friend, what can I do for you?” The Sheik asks.
“I need a favor from you”
“You need but ask”
“My new first girl is to travel back in the jet’s cabin with me. Alas we forgot to bring adequate clothing for her. I need your help. I need to borrow Alysha to escort her to the stores to get some clothes. Is that possible?”
The Sheik laughs, a deep throaty laugh. “We will wrap both in burkas and I shall have one of my guards escort them to the stores. As you know, regardless of what we do in my palace, outside these walls, I am a strict Muslim. It wouldn’t do for any females of my household, free or servant, to travel without a male escort”
The irony does not escape Paul, but he is suitably grateful.
Juggy is back before
Juggy is wearing a gray flannel skirt that reaches to just above her knee. It is pleated so it flairs nicely when she moves. Her top is a white cotton blouse that will be left open in flight, to show off her boobs, but can be closed at will to show a nice cleavage, or even modestly be closed all the way up. A gray vest complements the ensemble. She also is wearing smoke colored sheer stockings that are held up by a black garter belt. Juggy lifts the skirt playfully to show off her new lingerie. There are no panties or bra, but with this outfit she looks like the slightly top-heavy secretary of some high powered executive.
Paul approves of the purchase, and orders her to get Lila ready.
“We are going to see Al-Mansour.
Juggy rushes out, to get
everything ready. Paul drinks lemonade on the balcony. He can see the garden
where Sarah was snuffed yesterday. Not in vain, he knows. Already the results
of her sacrifice are showing. The Sheik would never have given him a pretty
little thing like
In the Limo, Paul rides in the back seat with Lila, while Juggy sits in the middle seat facing back; both girls dressed in red pantaloons and vests, red being his house livery. The driver and their escort ride in the front, beyond the black glass partition. He did not fail to notice the AK47 the guard carried, nor the unusual thickness of the windows, that gave a green tinge to everything outside. The Sheik takes safety seriously. Politics is a tense game in this part of the world, the players often playing for blood.
On the ride up to Al-Mansour’s mountainside mansion Paul realizes he has not had his usual morning blow-job. He nudges Lila who seductively slides to the floor, her red vest somehow flaring to show her pert breasts. On her knees the young blonde takes his hardening prick out with a deft hand, and lovingly starts to lick its length. As it hardens to its full length she takes the bulbous tip into her mouth, and then the whole shaft. She takes her time getting up to speed, extending the experience. Finally when she feels the time is right, she increases her tempo, and pushing herself up on all fours, swallows him up to the hilt. When the early tremors show her he is ready to explode, she surprises him with something new. She pulls back, takes a deep breath, and in one fluid motion, swallows him, way deep. With the tip of his cock deep down her throat, she massages him using her throat muscles, swallowing repeatedly. Her hands are around his butt, holding him in her, while she chokes on his member. She cannot breathe while this is going on, she will not be able to breathe until he is done, so she swallows faster and faster, until finally he explodes down her throat. She still keeps him deep in her however, until his penis starts shrinking a bit and she pulls back exhales and breathes again. Paul’s penis is already clean from all of this, so she replaces it, closes his fly, and demurely sits again besides her master.
Al-Mansour lived in a mansion, further inland. His mansion was not as large as the Sheik’s palace, but it was still of a very respectable size. Two armed guards stood at attention when the limo arrived. A third guard, armed only with a pistol, opened their limo door and welcomed Paul to the compound.
“Sheik Al-Mansour awaits you in the inner courtyard. Please follow me”
Paul had not been at this mansion before. When he was a member of government, Al-Mansour favored a larger palace in town. He must have moved to this (relatively) more modest mansion after retiring. He followed the guard to the courtyard, his two slaves hurrying behind him.
Al-Mansour receives them sitting on a stool. He is alone except for a young stunningly beautiful oriental girl standing besides him. Her status is not immediately apparent since she wears a long sleeved Chinese white silk gown, with black cord trimming that modestly covers her from neck to ankles. White silk slippers peek out from under the gown.
Paul stands stunned. The girl is the spitting image of Mei Ling; as if time had not passed, Paul flashes back to that fateful day 16 years ago, when Mei Ling was offered in exchange for Sarah.
Juggy and Lila, unafraid, kneel beside their master. Although they know the story, they cannot realize the resemblance.
“My friend” Al-Mansour starts “May I introduce you to Mei Wei. Isn’t she gorgeous?”
Both girls go pale at the mention of the name. History is repeating itself, but they know that their master is not as attached to them as he was to Sarah. Somehow they realize one of them will be staying here.
“Oh my God” Juggy thinks “He will trade me for that beauty; I cannot compete with her. I will die here” She bows her head even more.
“Shit” thinks Lila “He is definitely taking her home with him. I’m done for.”
Silently, well trained, they kept position, kneeling and expressionless.
“A beautiful girl indeed Mansour” Paul answers “Is that the motive for this invitation?”
“Indeed” His smile, framed by his black beard, a grimace of cruelty. “It is the same as the last time. I offer you Mei Wei. She is Me Ling’s baby sister. I bought her years ago, and have kept her pristine; she has had some training in obedience, but she is unmarked and virginal. She has been in my house for a month. She knows what happened to her sister. She knows that it will also be her fate…if you do not take her with you”
“What do you want then?”
“I’ll trade her for your first slave, that big breasted girl on your right”
Juggy kneels immobile, her training is that good. She cannot help blanching, and her skin is now as pale as a ghost.
“Why do you think I care?” Paul is experienced in haggling with Arabs, but being a Westerner, and an American he doesn’t realize that he has already lost the bargain. He should have said he didn’t care before he asked for the prize. Al-Mansour knows this, and his smile tells Paul that he knows.
“You cannot have Juggy anyway. She has been trained for my business, and I cannot spare her” Juggy struggles not to let out her breath too explosively.
“Your other slave has no breasts. I like bigger breasts on a woman” The sheik retorts.
“Even so, it will be Lila or no deal. Not that I want to hurry you, but I’ve got a plane to catch”
Lila kneels in position, but cannot control her shaking.
“You are stealing from me, you always have, but OK you can have the Chinese girl, I’ll take that skinny runt from you.” When Lila hears this, she cannot control her tears, but manages to cry without breaking position.
Mei Wei exhales visibly. At a sign from the Arab she walks demurely towards her new master.
Lila and Juggy stand too. Lila struggles to control her tears.
“I’m sorry about this” Paul says.
“I understand sir” is her answer.
“Say your good byes to Juggy”
Both girls embrace and kiss briefly. Lila then bravely walks towards her new master and kneels besides him facing Paul and his slaves.
Paul turns around and heads for the limo, Juggy and Mei Wei following him. They do not look back.
At the airport, in the cavernous hangar that Paul maintains for his company, the pilots are already in the cockpit of the Gulfstream. Two guards have already deposited a crate in the luggage hold. The crate resembles those used to transport large pictures.
“Juggy: Mei Wei will have to travel with us in the cabin. I do not have time to properly crate her. After we are airborne, just have her kneel nude in the back and immobilize her. We can have her dress again before arrival”
The plane taxies to the runway. In the hold, a slave lies in a crate. She knows not where she is going, or to whom she belongs now. She just knows that sometime that morning, the head slave, Alysha took her to the preparation room. She received several large enemas, until the water ran clear; they also made her drink syrup that made her throw up her breakfast. After she was quite empty inside, she was tied into a rectangular wooden frame. She knew then that she was to be transported, and by the enemas and emetics, she also knew that it would be a long trip. Abroad, actually, since for trips within the country the slaves were never crated in a frame. She tried to ask questions but was denied permission to speak.
A tube was placed in her bladder, and then inserted deep
into her mouth through a ball gag. That would keep her from making any messes
in her crate. A butt plug completed her preparations.
And indeed it did. A well trained slave girl is a work of art.
The End
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