My Descent into Slavery Ch. 06

"Your what?"

"My college. It's Latin for generous mother. Schools provide nourishment for the mind, so any school you attend is your alma mater, your generous mother, because they educated you. Let's go see Professor Kline first."

We closed and locked up my apartment again and Luke drove us to the campus Psychology building.

"This is it?" Sahar said, looking at the building we were entering. "This is where you go to school?"

"This building is just the Psychology building." I pointed at all the other buildings. "All of these are part of the campus. Something like 50 to 60 thousand people attend school here."

"It's so big," she said looking around. "It's like a small city."

"Most of the major universities are this big. Some are bigger than this one, and there are a lot more smaller ones. Many people believe you have to have a college education to make a good career for yourself. There are probably 200 colleges and universities in Florida alone, although there's only about like fifteen major ones in this state."

"What kinds of things can you study here?"

"I think they offer over three hundred undergraduate degrees, pretty much everything from acting to zoology, architecture to physics, engineering to medicine."

"Do you think I should study something?"

"Do you want to kill people the rest of your life?"

"I probably won't run out of people evil enough to kill."

"Probably not, but you also can't get away with killing people in most places of the world. They expect the police to take care of criminals, not vigilantes."

We went inside and found Professor Kline's office.

"Beth," Mrs. Boyle said. "It's been so long since I've seen you. Professor Kline told me what happened to you before he left for Europe to help out. I'm so sorry, dear. Give me a big hug."

I stepped into her encircling arms and did indeed, get a big hug. "Mrs. Boyle, I'd like to introduce you to my friend, Lucas, and my fiancée, Sahar. She's originally from Oman."

"I always thought you were into boys," Mrs. Boyle said.

"I'm still into boys," I laughed. "Let's just say the man I care for is already married and I wouldn't marry any other man, so I guess I'm stuck with a woman to marry. As it turns out, she's a fantastic woman who's saved my life on so many different levels. She's a key reason I was freed from my captors and standing before you today, and she does manage to ring my bell."

"Well, come here then, dearie. Let's give you a hug as well. I'm glad you were able to save Beth. She's a wonderful young woman."

Sahar tentatively stepped closer to Mrs. Boyle who gave her an equally infectious hug.

"I should have warned you, Sahar, Americans are a touchy, feely sort." I said. "It's not uncommon to get hugs for no specific reason, even if you don't particularly know the person giving them. If they seem friendly, just go with the flow. Mrs. Boyle, as Sahar was raised as a Muslim, it's not normal for anyone other than family members to touch them."

"She's not wearing the scarf thing," Mrs. Boyle said, releasing her.

"Sahar was a slave herself for four years. She lost a lot of her previous customs as a result, but hugging will still seem sexual to her. She's a bit in between things at the current time. Muslim women can't marry other women either, so she's figuring things out. What happened to her as a slave kind of threw her off men, but she'll figure it out."

"I'm sorry, dear."

"It's okay. I should get used to customs in my new country," Sahar reassured her.

"Is Professor Kline in, Mrs. Boyle?" I asked.

"He is." She glanced at the phone set on her desk. "He's on a call at the moment. I'll let you in to see him when he's done."

"Thank you."

"How's your thesis coming along?"

"As you can imagine, I haven't really been able to work on it since before my capture. I wasn't even sure if I could finish my degree when I was recovered. I was suffering from my captivity. Sahar has worked with me to get over what was done to me. I'm thinking I might be able to finish up now, but I need to go to Switzerland to have some cosmetic surgery for scars I received."

"Are they bad? I don't see any."

"They're on my back and bottom. Unless I were naked, you wouldn't see them."

"Why don't you have a seat. I'll slip him a note telling him you're here."

"I appreciate that."

Mrs. Boyd disappeared for a minute and returned, waving us in. "He's just talking to his wife. He said you might wish to talk to her as well."

"Thanks again."

We three went into his office. He was talking to his wife unless he'd acquired another slave. "I want you kneeling naked on the floor when I get home with a blindfold on. I should be there around six."

I couldn't hear her response, but imagined it was a 'yes, Master'.

"Beth is here. Would you like to speak to her?"

Oliva must have said yes, because he handed me the phone.

"Hello, Oliva. Are you doing well?" I asked.

"I'm doing wonderfully. I'm so glad you helped Herman discover this for us. The last nine months have been the best part of our marriage."

"I'm so happy for you, Oliva. Was there something specific you wanted to ask me?"

"Just to know you're all right. You mean so much to me and my Master."

"That means a lot to me, Oliva. I've cherished your relationship. You were like a mother to me after Aunt Helen died. I hope you'll come to my wedding."

"Do you know when or where yet?"

"It will probably be after Master's ship returns to the US. I'm to meet him in Hawaii in about five weeks. It should be this summer so it won't interfere with Professor Kline's school schedule. I'm obviously close to the people on the ship, so I want all of them to be there, maybe some of my relatives, some other people I've met along the way."

"I thought all of your relatives were deceased."

"Joshua and Hannah found some in Norway, cousins mostly, though my Great Aunt is still alive, my great grandfather's niece. She was much younger, than him, but she's 96 now. Still seems spry but I don't imagine she'll live forever."

"We'll definitely try to come."

"That would be wonderful."

"Goodbye, Beth. Take care of yourself. Sahar, I expect you to look after her."

"I will, Mrs. Kline. I love her a great deal."

"I know you do, dear. Everyone loves Beth."

After the call ended, I talked to Professor Kline about my thesis. He knew the reason I was behind schedule and didn't believe it would cause any problems. I thanked him for coming when Master called to provide counseling for Hannah, Jìngyi and me.

"How are they doing?" I asked.

"About as I expected. They are working through it, but it's a slow process. Hannah is a bit more submissive than she used to be. Jìngyi is doing a little better, perhaps a bit more promiscuous. She used to have sex usually at night, but she indulges in more of it during the day as well. It's a bit more compulsive than it was."

"Would they be subjects for hypnosis?"

"I'm not sure. Hannah admitted to being a switch. She had some submissive characteristics anyway. Can hypnosis make her less submissive than she is, or is she more conscious of it now. She seems to be maintaining her Dominance over Delphine and Angelique; at least they haven't complained openly about it. There seems no specific thing to redirect in Jingyi's case. She was having frequent sex with both men and women before. She's having more now. I don't want to make her give up sex altogether. It's not like Maahnoor where we were trying to keep her more focused on sex with her husband and less on others. I suppose if Jingyi developed a relationship with one person she wanted to have sex with, we could help with that, but that's not the case. Neither of them seem particularly unhappy with the way they are now; it's just different. If it becomes a problem for either of them, we could look at that."

"I'll keep an eye on them and if I see a problem, I'll contact you. If Sahar or Joshua sees a problem with me which they can't deal with, I'll have them call you."

******

Finishing with Doctor Kline, I led us to the largest campus bookstore, one I knew actually had luggage, since students needed to buy luggage on occasion. The main problem was it came in Gator Orange and Blue, but I suppose it would make it easier to spot at the luggage claim at the airport. No dull blacks for me, no sir.

While purchasing the luggage, I also bought Sahar and me crop tops, and her a gator keychain, and a gator coffee mug. We put our other purchases in the luggage so we could wheel them back to the car. As we were walking out, we had a little problem.

"Hey, slut, want to suck my cock?"

An over hormonal dickhead, probably an athlete from the looks of him, with two buddies who he was probably flexing for, leaned against the wall outside the bookstore. It wasn't farfetched for said dickhead to think I was a slut. The clothes I had on the ship for Sahar to pick through before going to The Bahamas consisted of slave-slut clothes. She didn't grab that many of them anyway. I used almost none on the island and hadn't purchased anything yet and the stuff I'd picked up from my apartment was sitting in paper sacks in Mistress Layton's SUV. I still didn't wear bras or panties, so let's call it an unfortunate choice of words. Whether or not I was a slut was none of his fucking business.

"How would you like me to cut off your cock?" Sahar replied.

"Sahar, you can't cut off someone's dick because they're rude and obnoxious," I explained.

"Who's rude and obnoxious?" Dickhead asked.

"You are. If anyone said that to your mother, sister, or wife, if a woman was stupid enough to marry you, you'd be calling them out into the alley to beat hell out of them, yet you think it's perfectly fine to say that shit to other mothers, wives and sisters. I'd call that rude and obnoxious."

"Can I break his arm?" Sahar asked.

"Even that's a little extreme. Maybe his nose, tops, but there's an adage which applies here. 'Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me'. Let me guess, football player?"

"Yes, what of it."

"You see, Sahar, this adolescent, infantile behavior is typical of overprivileged jock athletes who think they're hot stuff. They're glamorized by the sports loving public, so they tend to forget they still put their pants on like everyone else and say rude and obnoxious things, thinking some fickle female will fall all over herself to mount his minuscule dick. Now, I will ask him how big is dick is, and whatever he says, we can automatically deduct a couple inches from it because he can't help but exaggerate how huge his equipment is, thinking that size is the be all and end all of any sexual encounter. So, how big is your dick?"

"Eight inches."

I laughed. "Okay, six inches. A perfectly average cock on an idiot who probably can't find your clit or g-spot even if you had a sign pointing the way. I think we can dispense with sucking your cock."

By this time, both of his buddies were laughing their asses off and so was Luke, which jacked Dickhead up a notch. From flexing, he'd sunk completely to the butt of my jokes and of their laughter. He quit leaning against the wall and started clenching, wondering who he could hit. His two buddies, finding humor in his misfortune, a couple girls, or Luke, who hadn't said a word, but was still laughing.

"Shut the fuck up!" Dickhead yelled.

"You see, Sahar, he doesn't have the intelligence to fight on equal terms. Forget sticks and stones; he can handle those, but words are hurting him. He wants to hit someone now because we're making fun of him and he's an unarmed opponent. He can't dish it back. His size gives him an advantage on the football field, but here, he's as helpless as a kitten."

"If you don't shut your mouth, I'll shut it for you."

"Resorting to empty threats because his witty repartee fell flat on its ass and he isn't going to get his dick sucked after all. Is spring practice still going on, or is it over? I've been gone awhile."

"It's over. What's it to you, you fucking bitch."

"If he takes a swing at us, Sahar, feel free to break his nose. He doesn't need to breathe well for a couple months anyway."

"Who are you talking to, the silent geek?"

"Not the guy, the girl. If you take a swing at us, I've got five hundred dollars that says you're on the ground in ten seconds with a broken nose."

"Her?" Dickhead said.

Sahar smiled.

"Absolutely, her. You've underestimated us from the time you opened your mouth. Now Sahar would probably have cut your dick off, but she's more intelligent. She can't attack someone or she'd get arrested. You, not having the intelligence God gave a flea, and without two neurons to rub together, aren't that bright. So, I'm battering your ego, while you stand there helplessly and take it, until you're so befuddled you'll take a swing at me or her, or handsome Luke standing beside us. Once you do, anything Sahar does is self-defense. You end up on the ground with a broken nose and we walk away because you attacked us."

"Come on, Jasper," one of the buddies said. "You took your shot and it didn't work. What are you going to do, hit a couple women?" He put his hand on Jasper Dickhead's shoulder and Jasper shrugged it off.

"Go on, Jasper," I said. "Next time, hit on a couple eighth graders so you aren't so hopelessly outclassed."

That appeared to be the straw that broke the camel's back. Jasper took a swing and ended up on the ground with a broken nose. It didn't take ten seconds, it took one.

"Ow! You broke my fucking nose!"

"You tried to hit us first. Self defense, shithead. You should have quit while you were ahead, in your case, before you opened your mouth."

"What is she, a martial arts expert?"

"She's a fucking killer and I saved you from getting your dick cut off, pea brain. You two, take Dickhead to the clinic to get his nose fixed. Let's go. I used to be so much nicer than this. I still have a lot of work to do before I'm normal again."

All three of them stared at us as we walked away.

We were halfway to the car before Luke said, "Holy shit!"

"That's rather crude for a former seminary student, Luke."

"But holy shit!"

"You see, Sahar. You can't go around just cutting dicks off. And really, you shouldn't attack anyone because they're loud mouthed boors. However, if they are stupid enough to take offense at what you say to them and attack you first, you are perfectly justified in defending yourself against their attacks. Even then, the defense should be proportional to the offense. If someone is trying to kill or cripple you, you can kill them. If they're nothing more than drunks or emotionally and mentally stunted twits, something less should suffice. A broken nose doesn't ruin his life, but might give him a little humility. I had no problem with you killing the criminals on the island. That dickhead didn't deserve that response."

"You really tore into that asshole. You were brilliant."

"One of the benefits of my psychology degree. I knew exactly what buttons to push. He really was outclassed in every possible way. Not as nice as Luke, who would never have said anything so rude and disgusting. Not as bright as me, and not as physically prepared as you. He could have walked away from that at any time, but his ego wouldn't let him. He was showing off for his friends. When they started laughing at him, his goose was cooked. I have to teach you these things so you don't end up in jail or prison. I want to be married for a long time."

She took my hand and I squeezed it.

******

Of course, Luke had to tell everyone what we did at the college. Ranger wasn't surprised. He'd fought alongside Sahar in Morocco. He hadn't talked much about what happened there, being reticent about describing what had been a bloodbath, as great as the result had been.

Ranger was starting his shift tomorrow, so Sahar and I spent the night with him. We enjoyed another good night of fucking, Sahar learning he was as good at cunt licking as Luke. The following night we spent with Gloria and Mistress. We also made one last trip to the pond with Diego and Maria, skipping the horses once again. It was then time for us to go to Switzerland.

"You can't take any firearms with us, Sahar. You'll have to leave those here with Ranger. You'll have to pack your knives in with our checked luggage. You can't carry them on board the plane."

"How can I protect you without weapons?"

"You protected me from that big, bad football player without a weapon. In Switzerland, only the police carry weapons around openly. We're only going for my surgery. I'm an unknown, as are you. Schultz is dead. The slavery market has been damaged. You'll still have your knives once we get off the plane. I'm not worried. I'm even wearing underwear for the trip. Sometimes, allowances and sacrifices need to be made."

We had a commercial flight booked to New York from Orlando, an overnight stay at a hotel near the airport, with another commercial flight to Bern where Master would provide a limousine service to take us to Montreux, where the surgical clinic was located. Luke took us to the Orlando airport. I gave him a blow job in the back of the limo to thank him for his help. The trip to New York was uneventful. When we landed, there was someone holding a card up with my name. We went down to meet him.

"Hi, there," he said, when I identified myself as Beth Wilson, "My name is Jeremy. Mr. Greenbriar wanted me to greet you when you arrived in New York. I've got your new credit card, and ten thousand Swiss francs in cash. I also have a new iPhone for you since you left yours on the ship. It has the same phone number." He handed everything to me. "I have a limousine outside to take you to your hotel. Sahar, Hannah arranged for you to be licensed as a bodyguard in Switzerland. Here is your identity card. You'll be issued a firearm when you arrive in Bern. You have to carry the firearm concealed. You'll be given a purse with an integrated holster."

"There you go, Sahar. Someone is looking out for you. If you're truly going to be my bodyguard, they are seeing to it you have what you need."

"Sweet."

"I'll help you with your bags," Jeremy said.

He waited with us until our bright blue and orange luggage came around the carousel, then grabbed both of them and walked us out to the waiting car. It was a quick trip to the hotel, and there was a nice suite waiting for us. Jeremy said he'd be back at 1500 to ensure we were at the airport in time for our flight at 1800. We were taking a redeye flight overnight so we could sleep and be in Switzerland during the day. The flight time was roughly seven and a half hours, and with a time difference of six hours, we'd land in Geneva at 0930 hours the following day, have a nice hour long drive from Geneva to Montreux and be checking into a hotel around lunch time.

We ordered room service so we could strip and not have to go out. Of course, being naked with my lovely fiancée led to some sexual hijinks. As we were lying in bed after one such bout of sex, I asked, "Have you ever heard of the Mile High Club?"

"No, what's that?"

I grinned.

******