21st Century Subterranean Slavery : Part IV

“Him sleep now, come we do lesbo love now. First I do crop on big white bum, punish you sex husband mine; then lick pussy both after you make massage. You say love very much for me. I like young big white sex slave, have soft body.” She moved to the second bed on her stomach and received five fairly hard strokes with the crop. The woman then caressed and kissed her ass gently for a while quietly humming a tune her language, almost as if she was sorry for beating her. “You kiss I now and thank for spank.”

“Thank you madam for beating me I love you very much, may I massage your body now?” The woman stretched out on her stomach and she proceeded to massage every part of her, while she woman continued to hum. She continued to tell her she loved her with every part of the body she touched. When she turned over her eyes were glazed, looking at her as if she was actually in love. She spread her thighs as her hands got there in the end and then suddenly threw her arms around One- eighty-six, kissing her in an amateurish fashion.” She returned the kiss, actually teaching the woman how. She responded, surprised for a moment when a tongue entered her mouth. She returned her tongue gingerly at first, then encouraged by One-eight-six’s passionate moans, entered into a duel of the tongues.

“Oh I love young body and hands and kiss on mouth western style, we lick pussy now.” She whispered the words breathlessly and then crawled on top in the opposite direction, face down in her bush. It soon became obvious to One-eight-six her that this woman was a lesbian virgin. Her mouth barely touched her vagina, with her tongue sort of picking at her vulva but she began to copy what was happening in her own vagina. She was a now a teacher, licking and kissing and at first getting a minimal response from a student almost twice her age. As the woman began to moan louder from an experienced tongue, her own tongue attempted to duplicated every detail, sucking on the clitoris nipping on the inner lips and eventually penetrated her vagina as she moaned with a prolonged climax. She then turned around, snuggling into her slaves arms, burying her face in the huge breasts of her first lesbian lover. She returned her love, hugging her warmly, feeling totally satisfied herself.

The husband woke her during the night with the riding crop. For a moment she forgot where she was but soon remembered and turned on the stomach obediently raising and presenting her ass to the crop. She got five hard lashes and was then with sign language commanded to lick his body starting with the feet. She gave him a complete tongue bath ending near his cock; she then proceeded to give him a blow job, resulting in ejaculation after maybe twenty minutes. She swallowed his semen greedily while looking into his eyes demurely. He then turned over and went back to sleep.

The guard arrived in the morning taking her away while her clients were still sleeping.” She was taken to a clinic and given a douche. Her body was checked for bruises and recorded as twenty medium stripes, class two damage.

Next she was led to a room full of small desks with many other slaves filling out forms. The guard explained that she had to fill out the form listing every sex act and the success of each during the night. Also the number of lashes received. The date and her number had been printed on top of the page. She was told to keep in mind that the clients were also asked to submit a report and that they would be compared. When finished she was led to her cell block

Later after lunch her cell block neighbor spoke with her again.

“Well how was your first client?

That was really strange despite about twenty lashes; I enjoyed him and his wife, like they were my lovers in the free world. I’m a sex slave forced to perform with anyone who chooses me but I didn’t have to imagine a dreamy prince or think about the beast or the pit; so why did I enjoy it, am I crazy?”

“You’re not crazy though definitely a nymph’ it took me months to get to that point I still use my imagination sometimes.”

“I felt pretty bad in the lineup with all those free people ogling me, especially when that eerie music came on. That’s when I thought, why doesn’t somebody expose this place?”

“The music is designed to depress you it’s a physiological trick. As far as exposing this place; the rich don’t’ kiss and tell; they have too much to loose. This place is perfect for living out their fantasies. Only the stupid poor would expose it, hoping to gain something, money mostly, not justice. There are no minors here; that would blow the cover even with the rich. Also slavery is illegal by law but not in the human spirit. Many poor countries operate shadowy slave markets and I’m sure some of the slaves here were bought outright not abducted like us; my pimp probably sold me for cash. Haven’t you ever thought it would be more convenient to buy and sells young studs rather than looking for one night stands on the bar circuit or indeed a relationship.”

“Your right there but…but where are we in the world?”

“No one here knows.”

“You mean none of the slaves know?”

“Of course not, we’re all drugged and abducted and kept unconscious until waking up stark naked in the pit. Private jets can fly half way around the world in half a day. We’re deep underground somewhere probably below a five star hotel in the tropics. I don’t think the warden or the madam even knows. ”

“Why how?

“The rumor is that he is a former prize fighter from somewhere in South America who got life in jail for multiple rapes and murder. He was supposed to have been killed in prison but was somehow smuggled out and brought here by whatever syndicate owns this place. You know he’s as cruel as he’s horny but he’s also sharp as a tack, running this place with the efficiency of an assembly line. He has us trained, severely disciplined, exercised, washed, feed and delivered to the clients with all the precision of a finely tuned swizz watch. The madam also had some brush with the law and was brought here as a sex slave working her way up.”

“So one of us could take her place someday?”

“Not likely she isn’t that old but we will certainly become guards or instructors when we’re too old for the lineup, you know when the youthful glow fades.”

“They certainly know how to coerce us into submission. So no one here will ever see daylight again?”

“Not for real but every week or so we’re packed like sardines into a room with a movable roof; lying there squeezed together turning over when ordered, to get sun for half an hour. Without sun you get sick so it’s not sunbathing for your pleasure just a medical precaution. All you can see however is clear sky above and you don’t’ want to look because you’ll go blind.

“Why the constant bondage, there’s no escaping this place so we’re not going anywhere. We know we’re sex slaves so why drag this ball and chain wearing these neck wrist and ankle braces.”

“Well for the clients it’s the fantasy of owning and totally dominating a human being. Treating another human as personal property is a huge turn on for some. That’s the main reason for the success of this place.”

“But what about us, it doesn’t make sense. I mean we’re only with the client over night, the rest of the time we’re still in bondage.”

“Um…what to say? I suppose it’s physiological, by keeping us in bondage twenty-four-seven they never let us forget we’re slaves. We carry this ball around, we sleep chained to it, take it to the bathroom, hose cleanings and classes, all except when wrestling or swimming in the pool and there it’s replaced by a long leash. Other than that only the client can remove it. I think it actually helps us to cope with our slave status. If we were only chained when being displayed and or serving the clients and then allowed to dress for the remainder of our time, we might resent the clients using us. It would be like going to work like a whore.

“Another way of looking at clothing is convenience for the supervisors; any one of them can hold us after class for their personal sexual gratification. Since we’re always naked they can pick and choose whatever body they prefer from the class without the bother of having us disrobe. So we’re sex slaves full time; available to clients in the evening or for the staff at any other hour day or night.

“I have been banged in the dentist chair while waiting for the freezing to take effect and by the doctor on the examination table with my feet in the stirrups. All they have to do is fill out a report that we sign and forward it to the mistress. Don’t forget every sex act has to be performed with extreme passion or even fanatical enthusiasm or you can suffer severe consequences from the lash or the pit. As a matter of fact they probably get a more honest evaluation of our sexual performance from the staff I’m rambling again, sorry.”

“No go on I’m listening.”

“OK then, this way we serve, twenty-four-seven, our time away from the clients is just used to hone our skills and prepare our bodies to serve them and just as importantly the staff. We don’t have jobs we’re just sex slaves and nothing else. We have no family, no home and no nationality.
We’re merchandise; the syndicate leases our bodies for profit. We’re giving no choice so we accept our lot in life. I know after three years here I rarely think about my previous life as a free woman and of course I’m not allowed to. Our days are full since they keep us busy training, meditating or fucking. I don’t really think about being a real person anymore, only about performing as expected so I won’t get my backside striped too often or spending time in the pits. Even when I’m lashed to tears, I don’t think of it being abused of my rights any more. I deserved it because of a mistake or I didn’t try hard enough. Then I concentrate on the mistake and work that much harder in order to avoid being lashed again or visit the rats and snakes.”

She turned showing her striped multicolored cheeks and thighs “The madam had me lashed today because a client complained about my performance. I failed the syndicate and I got penalized. It’s like getting a C-minus in school you deserve it because you failed to do your homework. While I got thirty lashes kissing and caressing the madam, I realized where I made the mistake. I will pay more attention and ask more questions in classes. I will try twice as hard with my next client and maybe get an A. You know, it’s been two months since the last time I tasted the madam’s riding crop other than some clients, but that’s for their pleasure, not because you’ve made a mistake. I find though that after a couple of months I get inattentive and the madam’s crop or a night with the Warden sharpens my desire to give the clients what they’re paying for; that is: my optimum performance. I suppose the syndicate knows what they’re doing at least with me. OK…I’m rambling again right?

One eight six rolled over on her back and smiled at the cell mate. “No you’re not rambling; you’ve given me a lot to think about.” She stared at the ceiling, spreading and raising her arms and legs. “Come one, come all.” She lowered her feet back to the mattress as she spoke, raising her ass high opening her thighs wide while finger spreading her inner labia. “Come on right in…my cunt is open all hours to anyone on the planet and I do it for nothing.” She chuckled with her words along with some of her cell mates.

“Don’t forget your anus and your mouth; they’re part of the package.”

She flopped down on the mattress closing her eyes wiping a sudden tear. For a moment she had felt amused with her fate, then she choked and a few tears wetted her eyes. “That’s right every atom in my body belongs to the syndicate, nothing in it is mine.”

“It’s much worse than that honey your thoughts and dreams belong to the syndicate as well.”

She wiped her tears, “you mean when you wake from a dream it’s about sex?”

“After a couple of months here yes. I wake sometimes panting or moaning with my thighs spread, rocking my pelvis; imagining a penis banging me and at times I even climax.”

“I think most of us do,” another cell mate added sighing audibly.

“Why am I laughing and crying in the same breath?”

“Don’t worry honey, we’ve all been there; emotional turmoil probably helps us preserve a measure of sanity.”

A chorus of nearby cell mates joined in a long wistful, “Amen.” No one spoke for a while until the silence was broken by a guard calling out numbers for classes.

Her first class was erotic massage training. An experienced slave massaged her, after which she attempted to return the favor. An instructor watched her carefully making comments and corrections.
When done she was taken to the female supervisors quarters to practice on her for a few minutes before satisfying her orally. The supervisor did not return the love making but ejaculated three times, promising her a good report.

The next class was an hour of swimming. The ball and chain was removed after first being replaced with a ten foot leash attached to an overhead cable running the length of the pool. There were ten such cables and they were free to swim and rest when they felt like it at the shallow end. She was a fairly good swimmer and loved the workout with hardly any stops.

After the swim, the guard brought her into the pool supervisor’s office with two other females. He ordered all three to pose for him for a few minutes and then got up necking with each of them, demanding a passionate response. Sitting down again he ordered One-Eight-Six on her knees to fondle his genitals while the other two females were ordered to put on a passionate lesbian sex act for his visual pleasure. After he got semi hard he ordered her to swallow his cock but not to blow yet while he enjoyed the show on the mat. She took in as much as she could, breathing through her nose for maybe ten minutes before he got hard. He finally grasped and jerked her head.

She looked up at him sucking and blowing vigorously while fondling his balls but his eyes were on the two females who groaned passionately, slurping noisily on each others cunts while they rolled around on the mat slapping each others ass cheeks very hard. She watched the cat fight occasionally out of the corner of her eye and realized that their performance was a show to satisfy a mans lust, not the way caring lesbians made love. He finally blew his load in her mouth, groaning loudly as she exaggerated the sounds of sucking and slurping his semen down her throat for his pleasure.

She was returned to her cell block a little later than most of her cell mates. Everyone would have known why she was late but surprisingly no one paid any attention to her except her friend.

“So what did you do, blow him or put on a show? Her friend smiled knowingly as she spoke.

“I blew him, how did you know?’

“No one is ever late after any class unless providing pleasure for a supervisor. The pool has six one hour classes a day and two or three times students are held over. He always takes three, I’ve been there many times either blowing or performing aggressive almost violent lesbian sex, it’s more like a wrestling match rather than lovemaking. He always has a new slave blowing him so the next time she’ll know what kind of performance he expects on the mat. You haven’t been to a wrestling class yet; part of that class is very much what you’ve seen today.”

“Wrestling, I’ve never done that; I’m a lover not a fighter.”

“You will be what ever the syndicate demands; you know that by now, don’t you?” She nodded sighing deeply.

They went through the regular cleanup and meditation session and waited for the guards to appear calling out slave numbers for the evening lineup and various other sex sessions.

To be continued...