Enlightened Descent Ch. 10

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 Ten

Allison had been sleeping after being so roundly humiliated the night before, but not in the relatively comfortable closet she had been assigned since Marta's departure for Qatar. She was back in the basement cell, that had been her home that first night.

She was glad that she had cleaned the filthy room the previous day, but she lay on the same tattered mattress that had been in there before. As Allison surveyed her body, she began to read some of the almost shocking things that had written on her the night before. The staff had had their way with her for a little while, pushing her around and forcing her to do humiliating tasks.

Thankfully, she was not violated by any of the male staff, but assumed that this was coming, and probably soon. She remembered Elise, her new Mistress if you will, reading off some of the horrific graffiti, like an MC at some depraved sex show. Her announcements garnered laughter and lustful stares from everyone, as Elise had sworn that Allison would live up to each and every word that was so lewdly scrawled over her flesh.

The humiliation of the evening, the memory so vividly burned into her mind, triggered that base instinct within her. Allison's hand wandered down to her clitoris and hovered over it, just the slightest touch sending waves of pleasure through her body. She wondered how long she could hang like this, on the edge of falling, the electric sensations coursing through her as though she was plugged into a light socket.

Allison, in that moment, felt like one of the many 'gooners' as she called them, when she would put on her little shows on her webcam. How distant those memories seemed now, like a different lifetime altogether. She vaguely recalled her descent into slavery, as Penelope methodically destroyed her. The scene in the nightclub came to mind, oiled and suspended in a cage with strangers gawking at her and the woman who dominated her.

Another wave of pleasure, that was just shy of an orgasm rippled over her flesh. How long could she go, how long could put off the explosion that sizzled within her? She remembered one particularly grotesque individual saying that he had been edging for months without coming. His appearance was crazed and maybe even a little scary. He had shaved every hair from his body, just to heighten the sensations. He was poorly endowed, she remembered that, and he would revel in the insults she would cast down on him.

Suddenly, her pre-orgasmic trance was broken by a key in the door. The door was open before she could fully snap out of her haze.

"Get up, slave." Elise was dressed in her usual livery, but her face held a new level of contempt for Allison as she pushed her along in front of her, ascending the stairs and into the rest of the house. Allison wondered if she would be afforded a shower, to remove some of the obscenities that adorned her naked body. No such luxury was granted however, and it was straight into the kitchen.

The stares that Allison got were different than those she had felt upon her arrival. She was naked, as she had been, but it almost felt that another layer of herself had been removed and she felt more exposed than her simple nudity expressed. "Get in here." Elise demanded, as she stood before a large garbage can. It was lined with a black plastic bag as would be expected, and Allison hesitated. She could see the accumulated trash at the bottom of the can. "We're starting at the top." Elise traced her finger over Allison's forehead, and remembered someone writing there. She had no clue what had been written on her face or head, but Elise was quick to share with her, snatching a small appearance mirror off the wall and suspending it before Allison.

Scribbled across her hairless forehead was the word 'garbage', seeming almost an afterthought it was so hastily written. Allison shook her head in disbelief over her appearance in the small mirror, not an inch had been wasted, not even her face.

Wincing with displeasure, Allison slowly abided her betters, and climbed into the can, to the subtle applause of the kitchen staff. "Get down now. Lower." Elise chided, as Allison descended into the garbage can. The can was large enough that she could sit quite easily in the bottom of the can, the plastic bag clinging to her skin. She wasn't quite cross legged, but nearly, her head barely clearing the rim of the can.

To her complete dismay, she could feel the fresh garbage oozing up around her ass and sex, and it would almost have been pleasurable, were it not for the idea of it, or the smell.

As the morning wore on, more and more spoils were piled in around her. Scraps from plates being scraped, and even prepared meals that had reached their useful date and removed from the large Sub-Zero refrigerator. Of course, the staff did all they could to fill the large can, until Allison was nearly up to her neck in garbage.

It had been at least a couple of hours, by the time Elise stepped back into the kitchen, smiling at the state of her new slave toy. "Well, it seems that you are indeed nothing more than garbage." And with that, Elise pulled the draw-strings on the plastic bag, sealing it snuggly about Allison's neck. At first, she thought she might be strangled by the tightness of the plastic that cinched so efficiently below her chin, but Elise pulled slightly at the opening, relieving some of that fear. "You can pile her with the rest."

To her horror, Allison was lifted out of the can and carried outside into a small alley that must have served as a service entrance to the grand house. She was placed on the ground, in a row of similarly stuffed bags, awaiting pick up by whatever trash removal services existed there. Allison imagined how she must look, her well decorated knob of a head, poking out of that bag, like a pimple ready to pop.

The humiliation of it was extreme and almost too much to bear, almost. She had felt the sensation building all day, perhaps more because she had been interrupted that morning with achieving orgasm, but most certainly fed by her ridiculous predicament.

Almost automatically, and it surely must have been, for with any cogent thought, the act would have been unspeakable; Allison worked her arm from her side to her center, pushing through the mounded waste in which she was submersed. As she felt her fingers against her clitoris, something happened, she guessed snapping might be a better description. Tears flowed from her eyes as she realized how excited she was, and how absolutely disgusting that image was. A depraved slag, encased in filth, and masturbating over it.

Allison thought back to the 'gooner' that she recalled that morning, realizing that as grotesque as he was, she was a hundred times worse. Just as she was close to her peak, she heard footsteps in the alley, and to her horror two men dressed in boiler suits approached, grabbing the first in the line of bags lining the wall.

"Chong!" A voice called insistently from across the courtyard. The meaning of her name was not lost on Penny as she scurried over the frost encrusted ground to the other side of the enclosed garden. Worm, she thought, that's just what you are. Climbing the three steps and entering the heated bath house, Penny was nearly overcome with the change in temperature. "Nǐ huāle tài cháng shíjiān!" Bai scolded, relaxing comfortably. "Too long!"

Penny knelt at the edge of the large tub, sunken into the floor. The water smelled of roses and cherries, and compared to her, it was heaven. Penny had not been allowed to bathe in over a week, and she began to take on the unmistakable stench of the dungeon she was forced to sleep in. She also hadn't been allowed to shave, so her head was covered in stubble, which certainly lent to her shockingly repugnant appearance.

Throughout the ornately decorated house, mirrors were hung abundantly, so it was with some sense of dismay, that Penny had observed her gradual degradation into the creature that now knelt at Bai's bidding. She wondered how much lower she could be brought, and shuddered with the thought that there was room for worse.

Bai pointed to a luxurious silk robe that hung on the wall above the steaming tub. Quickly, Penny obliged, holding the robe precisely as she had been instructed to do, so her Mistress could don it with as little effort as humanly possible.

"You stink, Chong." Bai mentioned, almost an offhand comment, as if stating the obvious.

"Xièxiè." Penny bowed, as she had been taught when any reference was made to her state of being, no matter how degrading. In her mind Penny couldn't believe she was thanking this woman for insulting her. But as Penny examined herself inadvertently in the mirror that Bai now primped in, she was shocked by her decline.

Penny had lost weight, and her once full breasts hung lose on her chest, the nipples slowly migrating downward. Her face was gaunt and her eyes sunken. Her skin was brownish grey, with the filth from her cell, the small pit that offered small comfort coating her body with an almost permanent tint. The small meals of rice and fish were not what Penny was used to, and she was having trouble digesting the meager rations. She would not last long if things did not change soon.

Bai dismissed her, and Penny made her way back to the slave shack that she was relegated to when not in use. Three other slaves, all men, had the use of the shack as well, but they were all afforded the use of the house, and found her disgusting appearance and smell offensive. They would all move to the opposite side of the small structure when she entered, reinforcing her lowly state. At least the small hut was heated.

Late in the afternoon, she reported as she had each day to the far corner of the house, where an old woman sat amongst her myriad of devices. Devices she used to fulfill her sadistic desires. Today, as she did every day, the woman attached the cruel rollers to Penny's breasts, squeezing them outward into obscene globes that protruded from her chest. Then the real torture began. Slowly, the woman turned the small crank on the side of the rollers one at a time, inching them inevitably towards Penny's frighteningly engorged nipples. She would do this until Penny yelled out that she could bear no more.

Not being completely without compassion, the woman would cease the cranking, but the rollers would remain for the duration of the session, in whatever precarious position they had stopped. Each day, Penny would notice that the rollers would progress ever closer to her nipples. Her flesh would turn a deep shade of purple and remain that way until the devices were removed. And each day, as she walked back to her cell, she would notice that she sagged a little lower, her nipples migrating a little farther to the bottom of her once pert and bountiful breasts.

Today, the woman continued with her 'treatment' of Penny, adding several rings to her stubbled brows. They were large enough that she could see them plainly hanging before her eyes. The woman also checked her teeth, pulling and pushing as if checking their health. It was almost as though she was expecting them to fall out. If her health did not take a turn for the better, Penny thought, the old hag might just get her wish. Penny had nightmares about the old woman taking a pair of pliers to them, yanking them out one by one. She would wake up weeping, her fingers in her mouth, as if reassuring herself that they were all still there.

Despite all her trials, Penelope's existence, and that is all it was, an existence, was not without its moments of revelation. Even though she had been warned not to, Penny couldn't help but masturbate in her cell when no one else was watching. All the things that were happening to Penny were indeed traumatic, but something inside her found them deeply stimulating as well. At times she would feel ashamed of her arousal, wondering how she could find her dilemma the least bit sexually stimulating. The fact was that she did.

The idea that an old woman was slowly but surely transforming her breasts into sagging flaps of skin, stirred something inside her that demanded attention. The only thing that scared Penny, was the slow emaciation of her form. She had to find a way to earn more food, no matter what that entailed.

Allison shivered in the cold spray of the shower, Elise having forbidden her from any hot water. The fact that she was afforded a shower at all was a miracle, and were it not for the stench, she probably would not have been. Even cold, the water was welcome, not only to remove the remains of the garbage, but to also try and scrub away many of the obscenities that were written on her skin.

Her ordeal in the alley was beyond humiliating. The two men, obviously shocked at finding a young woman tied to the neck in a bag of refuse, had done nothing but stare for a minute, as if their minds could not wrap around what they were seeing. Eventually, but not until a fair bit of joking was had at her expense, they released her. Not knowing what else to do, she dashed into the house, only to be stopped by one of the kitchen staff.

"Ya can't well traipse around the house like that, lassie. The women scolded, obviously from Scotland or someplace up north. The rest of the kitchen had turned around and were every bit as abusive as the trash collectors had been, making jokes about her filthy state.

Eventually, Elise appeared and seemed a bit disappointed that the trash men had not taken her away with the rest of it. Pulling her down a flight of stairs that exited from the kitchen, Allison found herself in the basement once again and thought that she would be simply thrown into her cell to rot. Instead, Elise ferried her into a small bathroom that she had not seen before. It was nothing more than a basin and an open shower. "Scrub yourself down good. I don't want you stinking up the place."

Having done as good a job as she could be expected to do, with no one to wash her back, Allison stepped out of the shower. The hall was empty, and although she could very well have tried to escape, she saw no point in it. How far could a naked, hairless woman get on the streets of London before she was picked up for god knows what.

She saw no other alternative than to return to her cell, and sat rather forlornly on the dull, stained mattress until she dried in the cool damp air. Most of the writing was gone, but she knew all too well, that the scrawl on her back remained. The plain soap that was in the shower did nothing to disguise the lingering smell of the filth she was buried in, but she was in far better shape than she had been.

It wasn't very long before Elise appeared again, surprised to find Allison sequestered in her cell. "I'm a little worried about you. Too pliant, I'd say, and then some." Elise grumbled.

Allison thought to speak, but knew better than to do so, for fear of seeming impertinent. Nearly dry now, the smell from the garbage began to reach Elise.

"Jesus, you still reek, now don't you." She grabbed Allison by the arm and dragged her back up the stairs, and then once again to the upper level. "You're going to make me scrub you down?" Elise ran the bath in the large boudoir that adjoined Marta's rooms. "Then I'll take it out of your hide, wench."

Once the tub was filled, Allison was roughly put in, and this time the water was hot, too hot. She could almost feel her skin sizzle as she sunk beneath the surface of the water. Elise saw her flinch but had tested the water with her hand, and although hot, knew it would not scald. It could very well have been the stark contrast between the frigid shower below and the nearly intolerable heat of the bath, but Allison began to feel faint.

"You're not passing out on me, slave." Elise came down with the scrub brush, crossing Allison's back with it three times. The sharp slap of the wood brought her back from the brink quite nicely. Having deposited a fair quantity of lavender bath salts into the water, Elise began to scrub, and scrub, and scrub. The onslaught was relentless and painful. She even had Allison stand in the bath and bend over so that she could scrub her ass and sex. The stiff bristles of the brush were brutal against her tender flesh, and she swore that she would reach down and find nothing but ragged bits of flesh.

When the bath was finished, Allison turned to Elise and thanked her for helping her get clean. Elise sneered at her. "Tomorrow, Mistress has arranged for someone to come in and work on your..., head."

Allison instinctively reached up and ran her hand over the sharp bristles that had grown for lack of shaving. She had heard Marta speak of having it removed, but she had assumed that she might want to be there. Then again, why would her Mistress trouble herself with anything so mundane as balding a slave.

Nothing more was demanded of her that day, much to Allison's surprise. With all of the writing gone, perhaps the impetus for meting out those horrors had gone with it. She sensed a certain restraint in Elise's tone, and she wondered whether Marta had been in touch with her. Perhaps upon learning of her exploits with Allison, Marta had reined her in. Allison thought this must be the case when Elise brought her back to her comfortable room, next to her Mistress' boudoir.

After the trials of that last twenty-four hours, Allison curled up on the satin comforter and thought herself fortunate indeed. As she slept, she dreamt of Asha.

The following morning, upon being ousted from her hollow in the dirt, Penny begged to speak to Bai, by whatever means she had at her disposal, as her Chinese was woefully lacking. Eventually, the Slavemaster, as she called him, seemed to understand her request but chose to ignore it.

Penny sat in the desolate shack, once again being shunned by the well-favored slaves. Eventually she was retrieved and brought before Bai in her office. Once again, she was insulted over how dirty she was and how badly she smelled, as if she had any control over it. And, once again she was forced to thank Bai for her degrading assessment.

"Chi Sa, has flattened you, ha!" Bai laughed, observing how Penny's breasts had sagged since her arrival there.

"Mistress Bai? I am starving." Penny begged, pointing out her ribs which poked through her chest wall prominently.

"Yes, but not broken yet." Bai pointed out, tossing several pictures onto the desk. Images of western women that seemed to have gone through the same brutal treatment she was enduring. "Soon, we call you ours, Chong, you will be sold." Bai said flatly, gathering the pictures and placing them back into the file folder from which they came.

"Sold?" Penny questioned. "What of Mr. Chang?"

"Chang has angered the governor. You will not go there." Bai smiled as Penny realized that her fate now rested entirely with this woman, who seemed determined to destroy her. "Go, now." Bai shooed her out of the room, where she was grabbed once again by the Slavemaster, and returned to the shack.

Day by day, she grew weaker and less able to perform the tasks that were asked of her. It was shocking and terribly depressing when she would see herself in the plentiful mirrors that adorned the walls of the great house. Chi Sa had continued her flattening, and now when the rollers were advanced, they did not stop. Instead Chi Sa would repeat the process over and over, tightening them incrementally until they would stop, Penny's nipples poised to burst. Then would come the weights.