Fragment 08: White Slave

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Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1995-2009 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.
FRAGMENT FROM FM: White Slave (**, M/F, slavery, discipline)

________________________________________________________________________ Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER! Copyright (C) 1996 by FM. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is not modified and this copyright is included, but no other form of publication is allowed. This document may contain material of an ADULT nature. *READ AT YOUR OWN RISK*. Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only and does not necessarily represent the viewpoints of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are _fictional_ and any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. ________________________________________________________________________

*** AUTHOR'S NOTE ***
This is the second of what I'm calling my "Fragment" series--these are incomplete, unfinished stories or scenes that frankly, I probably will never go back and finish. Some of them were written long ago, but they often have some degree of merit, but they can't be judged like a real story.

Anyway, I hope you them. I will be posting them occasionally when my supply of "real" stories runs low. Let me know if it's worth the bother!

Frank
(The Flogmaster)
***

White Slave

(**, M/F, Severe, n/c slave discipline)

A young lady wakes up to find herself kidnapped and the prisoner of strict white slave traders. (Approximately 4,174 words. Originally published 1996-02.)

Chapter 1: The Awakening

(**, M/F, Severe, n/c slave discipline)

A young lady wakes up to find herself kidnapped and the prisoner of strict white slave traders. (Approximately 4,174 words. Originally published 1996-02.)

Ashley awoke unusually alert. She was acutely aware that she was in a foreign place.. She sat up in the bed and tried frantically to remember the night before.

She was in a lavishly decorated room. It was spacious and open with a beautiful marble floor, and everything from the silk covers to the velvet drapes screamed of luxery. Ashley wondered how the hell she had gotten here.

All she could remember was meeting Andrew at the restaurant. She had gone to the restroom for a moment--and then nothing. She couldn't even remember going into the bathroom. Somehow she had ended up here. But it definately wasn't Andrew's place. He didn't have this kind of money.

She looked around the room. There was a large dresser on the opposite wall, with a huge mirror above it. She could see herself clearly: young, blond, healthy, and very attractive. Her face was beautiful to watch. Huge blue eyes that almost always laughed even when the lips were frowned in a seductive pout. Lips that curved lushiously and invitingly. Her body was gorgeous too. Large round breasts with firm nipples, sleek stomach, and arching hips. Ashley turned and arched her back slightly and frowned critically at her hips and buttocks in the mirror. "I definately needed to lose a few pounds," she thought. "My buttocks are far too large and my thighs are an embarrasment!"

With a start Ashely realized the woman in the mirror was naked. "Who undressed me?" she wondered, growing slightly worried. She felt fine--no one had harmed her, but her lack of a memory was beginning to make her nervous.

She slowly climbed out of the bed. Her clothes were nowhere to be seen. The closet was empty, as were the drawers of the dresser. The dresser did have make-up and cosmetics, however. "How odd! They even have my favorite shades and brands," she thought.

In the bathroom she found a working shower and availed herself of it. She felt much better afterwords, and her spirits were high enough for her to use the make-up provided. She still had found no clothes, but she managed to rig a toga out of one of the sheets.

Thus prepared, she tried the door. It was locked. She went to the window next, and found that behind the beautiful drapes were ugly bars covering the glass. She could see the yard below, however, and was amazed. The property was huge, she could see that much. There were trees as far as she could see. A large grassy area was off to the right, and faintly Ashley could see a pool and she even thought she heard splashing and laughter.

"Definately not in the city," she thought. "Might even be Mexico." Seeing the pool made her realize that it was indeed warm, though there was cool air coming from a ventilation system.

She heard a slight rattling and suddenly the door opened and a young dark-skinned man dressed in white stepped inside. "Senora," he whispered, "it is the Prince." He waved his hand and a tall and handsome man entered. He was smiling, revealing brilliantly white teeth. He was every inch an aristocrat, his every move precise and graceful, dignified, and his bearing slightly aloof.

"Good morning, Madamoiselle Ashley. I trust you slept well?" His accent was slightly British. His smile disarmed her and threw her off guard. He was obviously attractive. Perhaps she had met him at the party with Andrew? But she couldn't even remember leaving the restaurant, let alone going to the party. Should she be mad at him? He seemed a gentleman, but she didn't appreciate being locked up like a prisoner.

"Why I am locked in here?" she asked, smiling slightly to make it seem like an innocent question.

"Why for your protection, madamoiselle. My servants, you know, are not always gentlemen. Jose and I only have the key." He nodded toward the young man at the door who bowed slightly. "Besides, I wanted to pleasure of escorting you around the grounds myself, without you spoiling the surprise by seeing it in advance."

Ashley was still cautious, but he seemed so pleasant that she relented. "Well let me lock myself in next time."

"Certainly," he nodded, as though it was already his plan. "Now, shall we go to breakfast?"

"Uh, my clothes? Where are my clothes?" Ashley felt herself blushing slightly and felt like kicking herself. "How childish," she upbraded herself. Blushing like a teenager!

He smiled at her again and she felt herself melting. "I'm afraid those are not permissible here. In fact, that sheet of yours, however delightful, is also forbidden." He motioned and Jose stepped forward and before Ashley could protest he had somehow jerked the sheet off her and she stood naked before the men.

The Prince beamed and nodded to Jose. "Beautiful isn't she? I told you she was marvelous, didn't I." His eyes traveled over her body and he smiled and her vain attempts to cover herself. "Don't even try to hide yourself, my dear. Besides, we took enough photographs yesterday to know every secret part of you."

Ashley's face was livid. "How dare you! Give me back my clothes and let me go immediately! I _will_ call the police, " she added in a lower voice.

The Prince laughed, a deeply contented sound. "That is ridiculous, my dear. You are far, far away from any policeman who could rescue you. This is, in case you do not know, South America. You are in Brazil."

If he had told her he was a woman, Ashley could not have been more surprised. Brazil! She frantically tried to think clearly. What could she do? What did he want?

"My dear," he said with another one of his charming smiles she was beginning to find dreadfully confusing, "you are indeed a prisoner. It is not a word I like. 'Guest' is more appropriate. But you cannot leave, no, and you will obey our rules of conduct. Now, I will explain more later. For now, please follow me and let us have breakfast."

Silently Ashley followed him, feeling extremely naked and vulnerable as they left the room. They were in a long corridor. The marble floor was cold under her bare feet. The Prince traveled quickly, and Ashley was forced to trot to keep up with him.

She could feel Jose walking behind her, and wondered what he was thinking. She knew he was watching her, and it confused her. On the one hand she was horribly embarrassed. On the other she had actually enjoyed the looks he and the Prince had exchanged. Their eyes told her she was beautiful, and it made her feel desired. She blushed again at her thoughts and wondered: was she more ashamed at being naked or at her enjoyment at being naked.

Chapter 2: Breakfast

(**, M/F, Severe, n/c slave discipline)

A young lady wakes up to find herself kidnapped and the prisoner of strict white slave traders. (Approximately 4,174 words. Originally published 1996-02.)

After countless twists and turns, flights up and down marbled stairs, and sights and sounds so astonishing and numerous Ashley found herself completely lost. The immensity of the place astounded her. "There must hundreds of rooms here," she thought.

As they dashed through the corridors she thought she saw a glimpse of a naked woman through one of the doorways, but decided she was mistaken. As they passed another room she though she heard a slap and someone crying, but the Prince and Jose appeared not to notice and so she decided she was imagining things.

Just as they reached the dining room, however, she saw an incredible statue mounted above the huge entrance. It was the figure of a naked woman, incredibly lifelike, with her ankles and wrists tied together above her head, her reddened face hovering above her exposed sex. Ashley only caught a brief astonishing glimpse as she was ushered into the dining room, but her brain was so addled that for a fraction of a second she actually thought she saw the poor figure move. "I must be going crazy," she thought. "Maybe all this is a dream, some nightmare."

But in a moment it was all forgotten as she stared at the room before her. Her first impression was one of a large group of people. She saw rows of long tables with hundreds of still faces that all stopped talking and stared at her.

Then she realized the faces were all women. And the women were all naked. Each woman was kneeling on a stool covered with a plush cushion, their naked buttocks exposed behind them. All were eating from their plates with their mouths, and kept their hands behind their back. "They act almost like pets," thought Ashley, astonished at their demeaner and all the casual nakedness.

At first Ashley thought they were staring at her and she frantically tried to casually cover herself with her hands, her face red. Then she realized that everyone had quieted out of respect for the Prince, and it was him they were watching. In fact, no one even seemed to notice Ashley.

"Good morning, girls. I hope you all slept comfortably. Today we have a new guest joining us. Let me present Ashley." The Prince motioned and instinctively Ashley stepped forward and bowed slightly, similar to the mannor of Jose. She wondered why she had done that but realized that there was just something so commanding about his attitude that she obeyed without thinking.

"Today is Ashley's first day with us, so she has much to learn about our lifestyle here. I hope you will all help teach her proper conduct. Please bear with her if she does not behave as appropriate--she is still learning." The Prince nodded and immediately the hall resumed its noisy atmosphere of eating and talking.

Ashley followed the Prince as they walked down the aisle between two tables and she was bewildered by all the bare buttocks she saw. They were so similar, yet each was unique. She saw the Prince reach out and stroke or pat several as they passed, and she noticed the girls receiving the attention seemed delighted at his touch.

They reached the end of the table where the were several empty stools and here he motioned for Ashley to kneel. She reluctantly obeyed, feeling horribly exposed, but too confused to refuse. She started when he gave her bottom a gentle pat and whispered, "I'll see you after breakfast and your morning workout." She was about to react angerly at his imprudence but when she turned he was already gone and one of the sevants was setting a plate of eggs and rice before her.

Ashley realized that these white-dressed servants were everywhere--there were several dozen wandering around the room, carrying trays of food and drink. They laughed and talked casually among themselves and she noticed that many freely touched the girls as they passed them, and the girls appeared not to mind.

Coffee was placed in front of her and Ashley realized she was famished. Without being instructed, she ate like the others, with her mouth, keeping her hands behind her back. She felt slightly ridiculous doing so, but there was no silverware in any case.

"My name is Casey," said a voice nearby and Ashley looked up and saw the girl across from her was speaking softly. She was very pretty, with gorgeous red hair, fair skin, and absolutely huge breasts. Ashley felt a tiny surge of jealousy at seeing them.

"My name is Ashley," she said, smiling through her food.

"I know," said other girl. "I've been here for almost six weeks. That's Mary, to your right. She's been her four. And at the end of the table, with the blond hair, is Sharon. She's been here for almost eight months. She's too stubborn to get sold, they say."

"Get sold?"

"Of course. You didn't know that's why you were here?" Casey looked surprised. "Yes, we are all to be sold. There are rich men all over the world looking for beautiful women for sexual toys. The Prince brings us here and trains us, and then we are sold to the highest bidder. Once each month there is a huge auction. The next one is a week from Friday." She paused and took a mouthfull of food. "You'll probably get sold pretty quick. You're cute and seem to be quite obedient. Has the Prince taken you yet?"

Ashley mind was whirling, trying to make sense of the waterful of information pouring from Casey's lips. "Taken me! No, well, I don't think so. I really don't remember much."

"Oh, well, I've sure he will. He seems quite attracted to you. I've never seen him escort anyone in personally before. Usually a servant introduces the new ones."

Ashley noticed that the servants were clearing the tables and escorting the girls away. She gulped the last of her coffee and fell in step behind Casey. "Where are we going?" she whispered.

"To the exercise rooms for our morning workout. Can't have any flab on us, you know." She laughed, patting her flat stomach.

Before she could get her bearings, Ashley realized they had gone down several corridors and made a number of turns. Again she had no idea where she was. They went down several flights of marble stairs and entered a narrow corridor. Small groups broke off and entered doorways on either side of the hallway and soon only Ashley, Casey, Mary, and a few others were left following the servant. He opened the door to a room and they stepped inside.

The room was small compared to the other rooms, but there was plenty of exercise equipment, including weights, stationery bikes, and several walkers against the far wall.

In front of them stood a beefy man wearing only muscles and shorts. Behind him were two of white-dressed servants. "Good morning," he spoke, his voice surprisingly soft. "I am Jacques, your arobics instructor. We are here to get you fat girls trim!" He laughed at his statement and began to put them through routines.

Ashley quickly found that she wasn't as much out of shape as she had thought. It had been almost a year since her last arobics session, but she could still do most of the exercises. Jacques seemed pleased.

"Good, good, good," he kept saying. He would get them started and while they jumped and pumped he would wander among them, watching them critically, ocasionally patting a bottom or fondling a breast.

During one particularly stressful stretching routine he seemed iritated that Ashley couldn't quite stretch far enough. She didn't know what to think when he grabbed her leg and stretched her out forcefully. But then he brought his hand up between her legs and she quickly broke loose and stepped away from him. "Hey! Hands off, buddy!" she hissed, furious with him.

Jacques was furious. "You! Down and give me twenty-five push-ups or I take you all to the walkers!"

Ashley stared at him. Was he insane? Did he really expect her to cower down like these others? She didn't know why they were here, but she had just about had enough of this. She gave him a particularly offensive finger gesture and headed for the door. Casey was staring at her in horror and shaking her head furiously. "Go appologize at once! Please! You don't know what you've done!" Ashley shook her head.

One of the servants was blocking the door. Ashely tried, but he wouldn't move. Suddenly someone grabbed her from behind. Before she could react, she found her arms pinned behind her back, and a gag placed in her mouth. Cuffs were placed on her wrists and she discovered she was chained to the wall. She struggled, but there was no escape.

Jacques stood in front of her, leering. "You want to be rebel, you do. OK. See how rebel likes the walker. First I do the others, then you. See how you like that!" He grabbed the nearest girl, which happened to be Mary, and escorted her to one of the walkers and started it up. With tremendous reluctance she climbed on. He turned up the step so she was troting.

Casey was next to Ashley, now, her face white. She was shaking her head. She whispered, "You've really done it now, Ashley. Never, _never_ disobey them. It's the most important thing to remember." Then she stepped away, her face growing hard and stern.

Ashley watched as Jacques took a large oval-shaped paddle from a cabinet. At first she thought it was made of wood, but then realized it was flexible--it bent slightly when he leaned on it. She decided it must be made of leather or rubber. It looked vicious.

Jacques stepped over behind Mary, who was hurrying franctically. With an evil glance back at Ashley he pulled back with the paddle and have her a terrific blow across her buttocks. The sound was deafening. But before the echo had even faded he smacked her again, and then again. Mary was running frantically now, desperating trying to escape the paddle. Of course it did no good. Jacques was swinging it as fast as she ran, the paddle slapping her buttocks furiously. Ashley's heart just about stopped. Her mind whirled and the only thing she could think was that it was all her fault. If she hadn't rebelled, this wouldn't be happening to Mary.

One of the servants turned up the speed on Mary's walker now, and she was running as fast as she could, sweat pouring off her body, her round buttocks brilliant red. Jacques paddled her for another minute, and then stopped. Mary climbed off the walker, sobbing. Her buttocks were painful to look at. She did not sit down, but stood near the others, tears running down her face.

One of the other girls was next. Again the walker started out slow and Jacques paddled away, the girl crying frantically and trying to run away the best she could. With the next two it was more of the same. Ashley was stunned as she watched them crying, running, panting, and struggling under the furious paddling.

She was crying herself when it was Casey's turn. Casey didn't look at Ashley as she passed her and climbed onto the walker. It seemed to Ashley that Jacques was especially cruel with Casey, but that was probably just her imagination.

Ashley was amazed at the grace that Casey accepted the punishment. She struggled, yes, but she seemed to accept the blows with much more dignity that the others. She did not shirk from them in the same uncontrolled panic that the others had. Ashley was impressed. Casey was extremely attractive, her buttocks round and firm, and the paddling seemed to only make her more attractive. As she ran she arched her back and Ashley thought she looked quite beautiful. With each blow from the paddle her buttocks briefly turned white.

Suddenly Ashley realized that Jacques meant to punish her as well, and her heart sunk. Now she switched from sympathy to fear and self-pity. What had she done! How could she bear such a thing? It was impossible to contemplate. But then as she watched Casey's poor bottom being spanked she decided that she really did deserve to be punished. Not for rebelling to Jacques, of course, but for bringing punishment down on the innocent others. Silently Ashley promised herself to accept the punishment and cooperate.

But there was another girl before Ashley, and Jacques punished her long and hard. She was a little on the plump side, Ashley thought, and paddle made her buttocks bounce delightfully.

Then it was her turn. Ashley almost screamed as Jacques turned to look at her. The servants untied and carried her forward. Her wrists were quickly bound to the walker and Jacques switched it on. As the track beneath her began to move Ashley began to move with it. She didn't want to, but didn't know how to avoid it.

As she began to trot, she waited breathlessly for the first blow. But nothing happened. She tried to look over her shoulder at Jacques, but only caught a glimpse of him smiling, holding the paddle under his arm. He was waiting, biding his time, attempting to draw out the torture and drive her crazy with suspense.

It worked. Ashley was already crying. Her buttocks felt tremendously exposed and sensitive. She could just imagine that paddle striking her, and it made her tremble and cry and run faster. She was sobbing in moments and he hadn't even struck her yet. Slowly she regained her composure.

Then it started. The first blow caught her off guard, exploding primarily on her right buttock, the stinging pain sinking deeper and deeper and deeper into her flesh and she wanted to scream. But there was no time. Again came the pain, and again, again, and again.

The blows came so fast it was all Ashley could do to keep moving. Her breasts felt enormous and heavy as they bounced on her chest. Her buttocks were burning as though someone had touched them with a hot poker. All resolve to cooperate left her and she desperately tried to run away. But the spanking continued just as fast. It was infuriating. No matter what she did she could not escape.

Suddenly she realized how loud the blows were. The slap of each spank across her flesh seemed to echo around the room. The sound each smack made produced such a dread within her it was more terrifying than the pain itself.

Jacques now began to vary the blows. Ashley notice that sometimes he would smack her right buttock, sometimes her left. Sometimes he would concentrate on the upper part of her buttocks, and at others he punish the lower, fatty portion, bringing his blows up from below to lift up her bottom and make her buttocks bounce.

Ashley couldn't remember how many blows she had received--the spanking seemed to have gone on for hours. She realized, however, that a change had come over her. The pain seemed to have reached a peak. Further punishment only prolongued it, but did not increase it. As this happened she discovered she was incredibly alive sexually. Her sex was wet and throbbing with desire. Her buttocks were hot and exposed. Even her nipples were hard. As she imagined herself, completely naked in front of many others, being spanked for the amusement of a man, she found herself feeling extremely sexy and desireable.

All this when through her mind almost subconsciously. She was only vaguely aware of the sensations and their meaning, her mind distracted by the hard and stinging spanks.

When Jacques stopped she was still running, her breasts bouncing, her buttocks aching as she ran, the sound of the spanks still echoing in her ears. She was sobbing and panting desperately.

She only vaguely heard Jacques say, "I think that's enough of a workout for today." It took her a few moments to realize that Casey was helping her down the corridor. Apparently it was over.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to Casey, "I'm really sorry. I had no idea that he would do that!"

Casey shrugged. "It's not your fault. They are all just looking for any excuse to spank us. They can't actually hurt us--we're valuable merchandise, remember--but they can spank us almost as much as they want. We're used to it. We try to avoid punishment, of course. But if one of them wants to spank us, he can. There really aren't any restrictions. There doesn't even really have to be a good reason. So we all try to behave the best we can and hope that we please them."

The End

*** Sorry, that's all there is. :( ***

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