My Descent into Slavery Ch. 03

This chapter is also closely tied to Becoming a Cuckold, Ch 13. One doesn't have to be read with the other, but as Beth's point of view, this one doesn't allow Beth to know what others are doing out of her sight and hearing, some of which becomes relevant to her. If choosing an order to read, this one goes straight to her rescue. Beth is saved and tries to reintegrate, having problems. Sahar and Richard help. This chapter contains lesbian, oral, regular and anal sex. There are no STD's or COVID in my fantasy world. Thanks to JohnnyGalt for his editorial assistance.

My Descent into Slavery and Eventual Resurrection, Ch 3

"Is Beth All Right"

I was waiting for Abdul to sear the brand into my buttock, ready to scream. There was a soft pop, a scream, not my own, suddenly stilled, and the clang of metal on the floor. What the hell happened? Did Abdul burn himself?

Suddenly, I heard Sahar say, "Hey bitches, did you miss us?"

I don't know about the others, but I fainted.

When I came to, I was on my stomach and Manuel was treating some of the wounds on my back and ass. Fortunately, it didn't include a brand. Hannah and Jìngyi were freed and receiving care as well.

I looked at my saviors, Sahar, Edgar, Thomas, Buck and Ranger? And Fatima?

"You came for me," I said to Ranger.

"I told you I would," Ranger replied.

I saw Abdul on the floor and he looked asleep, though he had a wound in his shoulder someone had treated.

"Is Abdul dead?" I asked.

Sahar kicked him. "Asleep. We still have to question him."

"We still need to get Mahmoud," Fatima said. "His door was checked and it's locked and one of the slaves said he has a slave in there with him."

"And we should do it before the helicopters start arriving," Edgar said.

"I'll go," Sahar said. "He'll open the door for me, a naked slave come to be punished." She grabbed a couple tranq darts out of the dart gun. "Come on Edgar, Ranger, you can watch my back."

The three of them disappeared up the stairs.

"Did we take a lot of losses?" I asked Manuel. "Are any of the slaves hurt?"

"We only have two wounded attackers and one wounded slave. Relatively minor wounds, although they'll be going to a hospital before they go anywhere else."

"I thought we might lose more. What about Jake and Al? Did they both survive Hassi Bahbah?"

"They couldn't come for this attack. Al has broken ribs. Jake lost a lot of blood, and he's still recuperating, but he'll be fine."

"I'm glad. I think Hibbah cares for Jake. How are our freed slaves?"

"Sherry and Hibbah delivered Maahnoor's baby girl about ten days ago. Henry missed the delivery because he was training for this. Ateefah is ready to pop soon as well. Professor Kline is on Joshua's ship, waiting to deal with you three."

I had to give them the bad news.

"They got Miranda. Master must be devastated. Fritz Schultz was responsible for it all. He came here, told me what he was going to do Miranda and me."

"He didn't get Miranda," Manuel said. "Sahar recognized Schultz as her first Master shortly after you were taken. Miranda helped set a trap for Schultz and he's how we found this place. Miranda has been in hiding since we snatched Schultz so no one would realize Schultz was grabbed.

"Schultz had all of this information stored on his computer and phone. Just as we started attacking this place, raids on his other training centers were taking place all over the world by police we believed weren't corrupt. We don't know how those are going, but we hope to make a huge dent in the slave business. Schultz is now dead. Sahar took care of him. About the only one we still need to take care of is Randy Andy, that traitorous fucker."

"You don't need to worry about Randy Andy," I said. "He came here to fuck us and I bit his cock off. He tried to shoot me before he died, but Mahmoud killed him for trying to destroy valuable slave property."

Manuel, Thomas and Buck all laughed.

Hannah said, "Andy was the second person Beth bit the dick off. She did the same to one of the men who captured us." Hannah started crying. "Beth kept us sane. She kept us from being turned into the same mindless slaves the others were turned into."

If I wasn't being tended to, I would have gone to her and comforted her.

"How bad is it? Am I going to be scarred forever?"

"I think you'll have some places which need cosmetic surgery to remove the scars. We won't try removing your collar and manacles or your slave jewelry until we have better tools."

"Does Master know we're safe yet?" I asked.

"He doesn't. We've been radio silent until everyone is dead or captured. We thought you might want to be the first to call him. Edgar has a satellite phone. We'll put the call through when he gets back."

I could picture him, sitting in his cabin, waiting for word of our rescue, half out of his mind.

Four minutes later, Sahar, Edgar and Ranger returned. Sahar was still naked, carrying her clothes. Ranger was admiring her body from behind. He had an erection. She started putting her clothes on.

"Mahmoud is captured," Edgar said. "He's in cuffs waiting for Sahar to begin questioning him. We thought you might want to talk to Joshua first."

"Yes, please."

Edgar made a call and handed me the phone.

As soon as Master answered the phone, he said, "Is Beth all right? Did we save them, Edgar?"

"Hello, Master."

He started to cry. "Are you okay?" Master sobbed.

"I'm a little the worse for wear," I said, "but I'm still kicking. Hannah and Jìngyi are a little better, but we're all anxious to get out of here."

"Helicopters are on the way for the women and injured. Trucks are coming for the rest. I can't wait to see you."

"I've missed you too, sir."

Edgar held his hand out for the phone and I gave it to him. "Joshua, it went better than we had any right to expect. Two of ours with minor wounds, one slave wounded. I think the crappy weather actually helped for most of this. Abdul and Mahmoud are captured and can be questioned about where they sold their slaves. Any word on the attacks on the other training centers?"

Whatever Master replied, I couldn't hear.

"Everyone who was clearly a guard is dead. Those we had questions about are still asleep. We're hoping Beth, Hannah and Jìngyi or the other slaves can help sort through the rest. We're not going to leave any slaver survivors to pick up where Mahmoud left off. I've got men wiring this place to blow sky high when we're done here. I'd like to let you chat with Beth some more, but she's still receiving treatment and we still have a lot of things to do."

More of Edgar listening.

"Sir, you're going to be pissed when you see her. She's got slave jewelry piercings, and her back and bottom suffered from the sting ray barb, more than either Hannah or Jìngyi. Hannah and Jìngyi both said Beth took the brunt of it, trying to keep them safe. She's damaged, she'll need some doctoring, Joshua, but on the whole, she looks okay. She's still got a bit of sass to her. Sir, you'll be happy to hear Beth bit Randy Andy's cock off and he's dead."

Edgar listened to Master.

"Yes, sir. We'll be back as soon as we can leave. We'll see you then." Edgar disconnected the call.

"How did you capture Mahmoud?" I asked.

"Sahar stripped off her clothes and knelt down in front of the door. She knocked and Mahmoud answered in Arabic. What did you say, Sahar? I didn't understand your conversation."

"I said Abdul sent me up to be punished with the stingray barb, two strokes for being disobedient. He asked me why Abdul wasn't there to let me in. I said Abdul was still fucking the three newly branded slaves. He said, 'You'll get another for disturbing my sleep.' 'Yes, Master,' I replied. He yanked open the door and looked at me kneeling on the floor, naked. He grabbed my hair to yank me to my feet and I stabbed him with two tranq darts. We made sure the slave girl was put with the others and returned here. Men are bundling up Mahmoud's computer equipment now. We hope to find where some of the other slaves were sold."

"Hannah was supposed to be sold to a Russian oligarch named Sergei, who apparently likes to beat the women he purchases. Jìngyi was supposed to be sold to a woman named Jade who ran some Asian bordellos," I said.

"I seem to recall those two names from the list of Schultz's frequent buyers. Hopefully, they're being swept up as we speak," Edgar said. "I don't know about cooperation from Russian authorities, but there are other ways to take care of Sergei if the Russians won't arrest him."

Abdul started to stir, and he opened his eyes and looked around, realizing he was zip tied. What he saw shocked and scared him. His eyes widened as he realized his plight. Hard, angry looking men, but what scared him the most was the young woman squatting beside him. Sahar was scraping under her fingernails with a knife.

"Do you remember me from when you came for the ransom, Abdul?" He nodded. "I told you I would kill you some day. Today is that day. But it won't be quick. I'm going to cut off your cock and ball sack. I will make you eat them. I doubt you'd be going to paradise, but if you do, there will be no virgins for you. You will go as a shell of a man, as empty in death as you were in life."

He looked at me. "I told you of all the people you should be scared of, this woman was the one you should fear most," I reminded him. "She was a slave and has no love of slavers."

"Why don't we let Sahar have her fun," Edgar said. "We should start checking on the others who are asleep. Anyone you identify who mistreated you or anyone else here, will be immediately executed. You can help us identify who gets to live and who gets to die."

We went up the stairs, and Abdul began to scream, interrupted and muffled as his mouth was jammed full of what I imagined to be his cock and balls.

I told Edgar and the others that some of the servants here were originally taken as slaves and either couldn't be sold or ransomed. I pointed out those who'd been particularly kind to me, helping to pass messages between us. Manuel gave them shots and began to wake them. They were usually terrified when they awoke. Fatima would reassure them they wouldn't be harmed and would be freed and returned to their homes or helped in some other fashion. Some of them had been here so long they recognized Fatima. Others were identified as women trainers or guards who'd been on the first floor when it was cleared. One of the three men put bullets in their heads, without waking them. They didn't hesitate because they were women. I tended to agree. To have women treat other women the way they treated us made it worse.

All of the freed slaves were brought to the dining room, scared and timid, afraid only their owners had changed. None of them had been branded yet, not having reached the end of their training. A large truck pulled up in the courtyard and men started carrying in boxes of clothes. They started handing out clothes to the slaves and they didn't know what to do with them. Slaves were kept naked unless otherwise instructed.

Fatima stood up on one of the tables. In Arabic, translated into English by one of the soldiers, she said, "I used to be a slave here." She showed them her brand. "I've been free for several months, saved by some of the same people who saved you. The guards are dead. Mahmoud has been captured, Abdul is screaming and dying down in the branding room. You are all free as of this moment. You will be taken somewhere safe, clothed and fed. We will begin looking for your families. You will be given money so you can support yourselves. The men who did this to you, and many others just like them all over the world, are being arrested or killed as we speak. They will go to jail or prison or be executed for the crimes they committed against you.

"I know that you have been raped and brutalized, beaten and humiliated. That ends now. You don't have to have sex with anyone you don't want to. You don't have to have sex at all. We will be destroying this place of horrors; blowing it into tiny pieces. You may put on clothes. You will be flying from here and you will be cold unless you wear clothing. Find your friends, your sisters, pray thanks to Allah for your deliverance. Your slavery has ended."

Some of the women started putting on clothes, those who'd been here the shortest time, though they still seemed scared to do so, like Fatima when she was first freed. I put on clothes, though it hurt my back to have anything touching my skin. It was cold outside. Colder than the dark rooms. As more and more women dressed, and nothing happened to them, the last remaining women started putting something on. A couple of the men brought in vats of hot soup, and began giving the women bowls of food. Again, many hesitated eating, but as more and more ate without punishment, the rest began to eat. I ate with the rest, hungry after my night on the branding rack, the fear, the isolation, the poor food, often mixed with feces. I suspected I'd lost ten pounds in my month at Mahmoud's.

After the soup, they were given fruits or chocolate, an unheard of luxury. Some of the women began sobbing, finally believing their nightmare was ended. Some of the Arabic speaking soldiers began asking the women where they came from, who their families were, addresses or phone numbers if they knew them. They were given jackets and taken out in groups of ten, accompanied by five soldiers, flying to a shelter the King of Morocco had set aside until their families could be found. After one helicopter departed, another would land and ten more women would leave this hell hole.

Sahar came to the dining hall, covered in blood. "I'm going to need some other clothes," she said. "Mind if I take some of these?" pointing to the clothes brought in for the slaves.

"Not at all," Edgar said. "We weren't sure how many there were so we brought more than we need."

"Of course, I won't put them on until we've spoken to Mahmoud. I assume we still want as much about the previous sold slaves as we can get?" Sahar asked.

"Of course," Edgar said.

"I think the blood might help with our presentation. Would you and Ranger like to escort Mahmoud down to the Branding Room? It's time to have a chat. Beth, do you want to watch?"

"No. You can tell me later what he said."

"You don't want to get revenge on that fucker?"

"Not that way," I said.

Sahar went down back downstairs. I watched as Edgar and Ranger escorted Mahmoud down there. I went to Hannah and Jìngyi and sat quietly with them, holding their hands. We weren't yet ready to talk about our experiences, but they loomed over us, so for the moment, we could talk about nothing.

Twenty minutes of sitting in silence before Hannah said, "How can I face Angelique after what I've done?"

"You did nothing. It was forced on you," I said.

"I ate shit and drank piss. How can I kiss her again?"

"Use a whole bottle of mouthwash first," Jìngyi said.

I squeezed both of their hands and smiled at them. "And you've both swallowed cum, boys and girls; and eaten escargot and bird's nest soup, and possibly brains and intestines or Rocky Mountain Oysters or other disgusting foods. They eat fried grasshoppers, I understand. If you've ever squished a big one, I'm sure you've wondered how anyone could ever eat a grasshopper or a snake or an eel, or whatever other delicacy someone has stuck in front of your face at one point or other.

"Dogs do it. I've seen them dining in a kitty litter box. Animals in nature eat their baby's feces so predators can't smell their little ones. I've been thinking, now I've grown accustomed to the taste, if we might get Pierre to make us a shit sandwich. I'm sure he could do much better things with shit than the cooks here did. What do you think? Do the French have a special way to prepare shit?"

They both stared at me for five seconds or so before breaking into laughter. It had been so long since I'd heard them laugh.

"French fried shit, French Toast shit, French Onion Shit," Jìngyi said.

"Shit Bourguignon, Shit Marseille, Shit Française, Shit au vin, Shit croquettes," Hannah added.

"Though I doubt I'll ever have shit as fresh and tasty as straight from your asshole," I said. "That was some tasty shit."

"Oh, Beth. I so didn't want to do that to you," Hannah sobbed.

"Of course not, but it's okay. I looked at the bright side. You remember that big greasy turd the size of a small baby that guy dropped on your stomach when you were tied in the shower?"

"Of course. It was totally disgusting," Hannah said.

"I figured they weren't feeding us a lot of food. It made our turds small and petite. Imagine having to eat one like his, from someone who was eating so much better than we were. That would have been disgusting. Yours were totally palatable compared to that one." They both grimaced. "I never blamed you. It wasn't your fault. You did what you had to do to survive. We needed to survive."

"Are you going to leave any of your slave jewelry on?" Jìngyi asked.

"Not unless Master wants it on me. The person who put it on me wasn't my Master and didn't deserved to alter my body. I suspect Master will want it all gone. If he wants me adorned, he'll give them to me himself."

"I kind of like the nipple piercings, but the jewelry is junk," Jìngyi said. "Maybe I'll get something nice from Brianna's Baubles."

"Exactly. Make the best of it."

"Thank you, Beth. Every day, I thought of you," Hannah said, "telling us to be strong and to remember we weren't alone and people loved us. I don't know what would have happened to us if you weren't here."

"Knowing you were here and depending on me, made me stronger," I said. "Knowing what they were going to do to me, I wanted to die first. But I couldn't leave you alone."

"Is that what they did to Sahar?" Jìngyi asked.

"I think so. Schultz said we rescued someone he'd sold who'd been in one of his fetish houses. Everyone else talked about their slavery. Sahar is the only one who never would. It had to be her."

"No wonder she wants to murder all of them."

"Never tell anyone. Not a soul, even about what was planned for me. If Sahar wanted to speak of it, she would. I wonder what she's doing to Mahmoud?" I asked.

Hannah nudged my arm. "I don't think she's done anything to him. Look!"

Mahmoud was marched by us, still in zip ties, but there didn't seem to be a mark on him. He smiled at us, or was it just me. Sahar came up to us.

"Where can a girl clean up around here. I'm a mess."

"I thought he'd be dead," I said.

"He gave us what we wanted to know. It's not my decision."

"Was it Edgar's?"

"Nope. Edgar wanted to kill him too."

"Then whose decision is it?"

"We all agreed it should be yours. He's a schmuck, but he doesn't know it yet. Is there a shower here, or a bath?"

"What do you believe the definition of a schmuck is?" Hannah asked.

"Edgar said it was a hapless bastard who was going to hell when we shot him," Sahar said. "Isn't that right?"

I thought about that for a second or two. "You know, that's close enough."

"What does it really mean? Am I using that word wrong?" Sahar said.

"It means a foolish or contemptible person," I replied. "I think that describes Mahmoud fairly closely. He was obviously foolish enough to take us as slaves, and definitely contemptible. And I have no doubt he's going to hell when he dies. Like I said, close enough."

Sahar grinned. She sure seemed to be smiling a lot. Maybe it was being able to kill all these fucking slavers.

None of us wanted to go up to Mahmoud's room where we believed the only hot water was, since all we ever got in the slave quarters was cold water, though perhaps the guards had some as well, but Sahar had no problem going up there. She hadn't ever been a slave here. She disappeared and came back with clean clothes on, though she was still carrying all her guns and knives.