Enlightened Descent Ch. 07

Edim Alshaer had now completely assimilated into life as Asha's slave. The process of breaking her has taken a toll, but she is not entirely unhappy, and has even developed feelings for her Mistress. Another change is coming that threatens her happiness once again. Penelope moves forward with her scheme, albeit unwillingly, but will everything go exactly as planned? Due to the nature of the story, it has become necessary to write in the third person moving forward. I hope that this switch does not upset those that have been following this story, and my work in general.

This story deals with various aspects of abduction, slavery (actual, not role play), intense humiliation, autoeroticism, exhibitionism, and hair removal or shaving.

IF YOU FIND SITUATIONS DEALING WITH NON-CONSENSUAL SEX AND SLAVERY UNAPPEALING, PLEASE STOP NOW! If however, you can continue with an open mind, and read this as it is meant to be, a work of complete fiction...

Enjoy!

Saphhia

Chapter Seven

Beads of sweat blossomed on Penelope's forehead as she sat in her car, waiting for her prey to arrive home from work. Samantha Tavistock was elusive to say the least. The firm where she worked took severe measures to safeguard their security, so breaking into their mainframe, or gaining access to the floor where Samantha worked, was impossible. No, this was all going to have to take place outside her office, and most likely directly from her home.

She hated this. Toying with and then selling Allison had been amusing, and even enjoyable at times. This pursuit was nothing but business, and it tore at her insides like a claw to inflict this sort of pain on a person she didn't even know. Oh, she knew her, but strictly through the dossier that the Arabic gentleman had left her. Successful, intelligent, and wildly good looking, Ms. Tavistock was the epitome of American breeding and greed. Her family was one of the elite of the elites, with wealth measuring in the millions.

It was odd to Penelope, that she chose to live in a brownstone, in a less than desirable neighborhood on the east side of the park. Perhaps she chose to strike out, and make her fortune on her own, rather than relying on her parents to support her. Perhaps, as was so often the case these days, the parents had insisted that she be self sufficient, and only when she had proven her worth would she be graced with the wealth that was inherently hers.

She was an only child, so the thought of depriving such affluent and influential parents of their sole offspring was daunting. She was most certainly more at risk than she had been with Allison. Her disappearance, while distressing to her family, was just one in hundreds of white females taken into the slave trade. Penelope wondered how she was faring, in her new home. She longed to know what she was forced to endure each day as a slave in such a far-off country.

The metallic bronze H3 pulled into an empty space across from where she sat, Penelope's Buick SUV strangely out of place amongst the Lexus and Mercedes that lined the street. The tall, lanky blonde strode out of the driver's door, leather satchel under her arm as she slung her Gucci bag over her shoulder. Samantha Tavistock was an impressive woman, and far more attractive than any of her photos would have indicated. Penelope watched stealthily, as she made her way to the front door of her building.

The data mining device that Penelope had planted on the keypad, worked beautifully and transmitted the code to the application on her smartphone. She now had access to her building, but the hardest part of the job remained to be done. Unlike Allison, Samantha would need to be a straight abduction, rather than a delicate seduction. This would be a blunt and final operation, and Penelope shuddered at the idea of doing this, to anyone. She checked her bag one last time, ensuring that everything was in place. According to the dossier, Samantha showered immediately after getting home, without fail, and this was the only time she would be able to enter unseen, and exact her plan.

Gone was the perfumed air, and well decorated scarves that ensconced her during the evening. Edim Alshaer sighed as she found herself back in her meager slave quarters of the harem dormitory. She could hear the soft breathing of the other concubines, as they slept around her. Only she and Mari remained awake, still breathing in the incredible sexual revelation they had experienced in the suite. The air was hot and dry, as it pulsed through the windowless openings above her bed. She glanced over at Mari who laid on her back, and she could still feel her skin against hers. Silk against silk, slick openings and playful fingers and tongues, danced through her mind, until she at last allowed sleep to take her.

It was mid-day before she was called to the palace. and Edim Alshaer was grateful for that at least. Not only did give her the chance to sleep, but it also allowed her time to pamper herself, and razor away any palpable stubble that may have grown since the day before. The hair on her scalp seemed to be growing softer, and she wondered if the constant tonsuring may be having a detrimental effect on the roots of her once mousy brown locks. It was of no matter, really, as she had resigned herself to never have hair again. It would seem foreign to her now, to feel anything but smooth skin there now, and her scalp had taken on the bronzed appearance of all the skin there in the harem. Gone was the alabaster bisque of her complexion before, replaced by a deep brown, that covered her body completely, having never been afforded clothing.

As far as she knew, Edim Alshaer was the only slave that was naked at all times, thus was the wish of her Mistress, Asha. As she once said, "What is the point of you wearing clothes, slave, would I put a tuxedo on my dog, or adorn my cats with scarves." Being compared to nothing more than an animal made her feel worthless, but aroused with the same stroke. It was just her place now, and there was nothing more to be done, besides please her Mistress, and see to her needs.

Edim Alshaer no longer turned heads, nor was she admonished by the women so formally wrapped in their black abayas. She was simply ignored, as if property being transported for shipment, or adornment. She guessed that was what she was, an adornment, or a toy. As they pulled into the massive courtyard of the palace, she was allowed to disembark. Strangely, no one accompanied her that day. She was allowed to move through the palace unencumbered by an escort. She certainly knew the way to Asha's chambers, and that is where she headed, without delay. Perhaps this was a test, to see if she would take advantage of her morsel of freedom, or simply stay focused on her purpose.

As she had done for so many days now, Edim Alshaer took her place, kneeling at the center of the large rotunda that sat at the center of Asha's wing of the palace. Where once there was only a marble design, with a star at the center where she was expected to kneel until bidden, there now sat a small tufted cushion, upon which she could kneel, and be afforded some small amount of comfort while she waited for her Mistress. She thought that the only reason that the cushion was provided, were the unsightly bruises that she sported for so long, during her initial training. Her comfort was most likely secondary to her appearance.

Loud voices exploded from behind the doors to Asha's bedroom, and it was evident that she and the Sheik were arguing. Although she was beginning to have a rudimentary understanding of Arabic, most of what was being said was so fast that it escaped her understanding. Finally, after many minutes, the Sheik blasted through the doors of the bedroom, not allowing Edim Alshaer any notice at all. She saw her Mistress, her face in her hands, obviously weeping. She wanted to go to her, but unbidden, she would be admonished for being so forward. None of her maidservants appeared to comfort her, so against all better judgement, she rose and made her way to Asha, kneeling on the floor in from of her, her face buried against the marble at her feet.

"So, you would come to me, and for that I am grateful, slave." Asha pushed her bare foot forward, an indication for Edim Alshaer to worship it. Slowly, she allowed her tongue to emerge from between her lips, caressing the instep of the delicately perfumed arch, bringing a sigh of pleasure from her Mistress. "I am very sad today, Edim Alshaer. Our great uncle is coming to stay with us, here." She sighed. "He is unkind to my...affinity towards women." Edim Alshaer did not stop her ministrations, but listened carefully to what her Mistress was saying nonetheless. "My brother, he has always turned the other cheek, and ignored my indulgences." A short but measured sob escaped her, not wanting to speak the words that she must. "For this reason alone, my brother is insisting that I bestow your services unto my cousin during the duration of my uncle's stay."

Edim Alshaer momentarily stopped her service, and bowed her head to the floor once again, touching her forehead to the cool marble. "Be not afraid, my hairless slave. Marga may not be as harsh as I have been with you, so you might well come to enjoy her company." Asha sobbed more visibly now, and Edim Alshaer wept with her, her tears evident on the silky-smooth marble, as they ran from her face. She had come to love her Mistress, to worship her absolutely, and now to be torn from that spot, and into the unknown, was overwhelming. "Come to me Allison." Hearing the name that now was so foreign to her, brought her out of her servile trance, and she knelt upright, and fell into the open arms of her Mistress. "You may speak freely my slave."

"Oh, my beautiful Mistress. I have no desire to leave you, ever. You are like the water that keeps me alive, or the air that I breathe." Allison breathed heavily into the breast of her Mistress, who cradled her head against her.

"We will be together again soon, I promise you. As much as you will miss me, my cherished slave, I will feel your absence most keenly of all." Asha's staggered breath caused Allison to weep harder still. "It is my Uncle's wish that I be wed to his nephew, before his departure." Asha wept so deeply that her tears ran freely over Allison's naked scalp, and the sensation was as devastating as any emotion she had ever experienced in her life. "Let us find our places now, Edim Alshaer, now with the coming of this unexpected tragedy."

"Yes, Mistress." Asha shushed her, reminding her that their moment of unbridled grief was at an end. Sliding back, Edim Alshaer retook her place against the marble at Asha's feet.

"Marga comes to fetch you this afternoon, and you will be taken far from here." Asha said sternly, regaining her composure, as would be expected from a woman of her rank. "I will not see you again..., for some time, my love." Shocked at the honor bestowed upon her, Edim Alshaer thrilled to the admission. One of the maidservants escorted her back to the courtyard where she was transported back to the harem.

Penelope checked the street to ensure that no one was watching her, at least specifically. It was still daylight, so the chances of her remaining completely unobserved were slim. People in general have little to no recall when there is nothing to set the event apart from the ordinary. She memorized the code to the door, and quickly entered it upon reaching the stoop. The familiar buzz beckoned her inside, and as she quickly removed the small magnetic probe from the side of the box, she slipped through and into the hallway.

There was no one at all on the first floor, so Penelope quickly and silently climbed to the second floor to Samantha's apartment. The floor was split in two, so only one other apartment to contend with while she picked the lock to the place. The small layout map of the apartment gave her exactly where to listen to ensure that the shower was indeed running. It was. At least she'd be clean; to begin with. Surprisingly, Samantha had only a single lock on her door, and no deadbolt; unusual for Manhattan. The standard single cylinder lock took all of twenty seconds for Penelope to pick. To her dismay, she found a security chain fastened across the opening as the door cracked. Reaching into her bag, she removed a U-shaped tool and, slipping the hook-end through the chain, easy slid the hasp back, until she heard the chain fall harmlessly against the frame.

She silently closed and relocked the door, careful to remove the set screw from the lock knob, and remove it. She couldn't very well have her prey escaping on her. Penelope quickly drew what shades remained open, shielding what was about to happen from prying eyes. The shower was still running, and this made her next task that much easier. Naked, Samantha would feel defenseless unless she had been trained to ignore that, which Penelope had been assured, she hadn't. Samantha's movements in the shower assured Penelope that she was not close to finishing, and she could smell the distinct fragrance of Moonlight Path. For a moment, she paused, thinking how much she loved that scent.

One thing the Arabs insisted on, was that the merchandise not be damaged in any way. For this reason, Penelope had to come with a way to immobilize Samantha, without hurting her. There was a moment of hesitation, after coming this far, conscience finally reared its head, and Penelope thought for a moment she could just go out the way she had come, and none would be the wiser. Of course, the Arab man that had so frightened her in the night, and left her an offer she would be unwise to refuse, might find those actions punishable. What horrible fate might await her, should she disappoint them. No, she had to go through with it.

The small aerosol container of Halothane was easy to obtain, the black market being so diverse. The bathroom was small, so the amount of gas in the can was just enough to anesthetize Samantha for a long enough period of time to bind and gag her, and move her to the living room. Penelope's heart was racing as she slipped the transparent plastic tube through the crack at the bottom of the door. Once the can was activated, it stayed open, so there could be no backing down. She shook her head, and pressed the twin bars on the top of the can, allowing the aerosolized gas to fill the bathroom.

Thirty seconds later, the water shut off, and she heard the shower curtain rings slide quickly to the side. She knew by now that Samantha was feeling the effects of the gas, but she had to allow it to take her down. The small respirator that she brought with her would be good for dispersing gas, but not so well in higher concentrations. There was some struggling and she heard Samantha's feet slip against the tile floor, and hand trying to turn the doorknob, which she held firmly from the other side. A shadow cast across the crack at the base of the doorway, and then a small knock, as Samantha's head came to rest against the door.

Quickly, Penelope opened the door, and caught Samantha as she continued to fall. Penelope could understand why the men had wanted this girl. In her nakedness, she absolutely exquisite. Trying not to pay that any mind, she dragged the woman out of the bath and into the carpeted living room. Reaching for her bag, she pulled out the elaborate hood-gag that she had purchased form an online S&M catalog. She loved the name, The Silencer, because it prevented the wearer from making any sound, and yet allowed them to breath. It all looked very complicated, and involved several tubes that traced down the outside of the hood. It had better work, especially for what it cost.

Once the hood was in place, and Penelope watched for her ease of breathing, the binding of her arms and legs began. Taking no chances, Penelope wrapped Samantha's arms and legs to excess, allowing for very little movement, and certainly no possibility of escape. Now all that remained was to wait until the anesthetic wore off, and that didn't take very long at all. At first there some involuntary jerking of the arms, and then the struggling started in earnest. She could hear the faintest moans, but knew that her prey was screaming with all her might.

Samantha was quite athletic, and Penelope was enjoying her flexing and tensing as she came to terms with her situation. Finally, having had enough, and worried that she might stroke out, Penelope opened an ear cover, and whispered to her. "Please, stop struggling. You'll only hurt yourself. I know you're frightened, but no harm will come to you if you just calm yourself." Without thinking, Penelope allowed her hands to caress the naked torso, thinking it might help calm the girl. In fact, it had the opposite effect, and Samantha's struggling renewed. It wasn't enough to call attention to her movements, but Penelope allowed her to calm.

Now it was only a matter of waiting. She pulled out her phone, and texted the number that was given. Once signaled, they would arrive at the residence within one hour. She carefully replaced the lock knob and prepared to hand over her prize.

Mari approached Edim Alshaer, as she rested on her cot, obviously distressed. Although they could not communicate verbally, Mari did her best to console her friend. "I know you cannot understand me, Mari, but they are coming for me. I am leaving." Edim Alshaer motioned with her hands, and Mari knew to what she spoke. She crawled into bed with her, holding her as she mourned. There they rested until the harem mistress came for her.

"I am to dress you, Edim Alshaer. Marga is here, and is ready to collect you." Although her English was broken, it was certainly understandable. Over her arm, was draped an abaya, the same drab, black cloth, that she had become so accustomed to seeing about the palace. She was really leaving. For the first time in months, her body was covered, and it felt strange, and not entirely pleasant. She had grown so used to the freedom of nakedness, that the material felt like an encumbrance to her. A pair of woven sandals were also placed on her feet, and to anyone unaware, she would appear completely innocuous.

It was difficult saying goodbye to Mari, but knowing she would return one day was a comfort. There was a commotion at the front of the courtyard, and a tall dark woman entered. Unlike Asha, she was dressed in western clothing, with only a hijab to distinguish her. Once in the courtyard, she allowed the turquoise scarf to fall about her shoulders revealing a short western hairstyle. She was older than Asha, but every bit as beautiful, her long thin features elegant and refined. "I was hoping to catch a glimpse of my cousin's little mouse, but I see she has already been gift wrapped." Speaking in remarkable English.

Marga approached and slowly unwrapped Edim Alshaer's hijab, allowing the cloth to slither free from her smoothly shaved head. "Well, you are lovely, and I especially like this." Marga ran her slim fingers over her head, their silky smoothness catching on the moist perspiration the hijab induced. Edim Alshaer bowed gratefully, and Marga caught her as she rose, her chin held firmly in her hand. "What fun we shall have, you and I." Marga smiled, turning to leave. There was no delay in her step and Edim Alshaer was prodded to keep up, quickly having her hijab reapplied. In one quick motion, Marga brought the bright blue scarf over her head, and allowed it to fall perfectly into place.

Outside the harem, a black Mercedes limousine awaited, and Edim Alshaer followed her new mistress inside. For a few moments, there was silence. Then as if picking up on a conversation that was interrupted, Marga began. "Edim Alshaer, I mean, I get it, but it's a little obvious, yes?" She looked expectantly at her new servant. "So, all kidding aside. What's your name?" Not knowing what to do, Edim Alshaer fumbled with her robes, her fingers shaking. "It's okay, relax."