My Voyage of Submission Ch. 19

"Before, during, or after a punishment, I need never worry about receiving orgasms. It's one of the reasons I don't mind punishments such as this one too much. Master wants us to have orgasms for a punishment as it makes it less likely he'll hurt us. He'll always grant permission under those circumstances, or possibly our unallowed orgasms were the reason for the punishment. If he doesn't give us an orgasm, the ensuing punishment would be lighter and less strenuous so as to not exceed our limits."

I was so needy, I had both of them within five minutes, straining my pussy against my sister slave. Since Master was wearing pants, he whipped his own arm to demonstrate how he tested it on himself.

Felicity gave a little gasp each time Master struck me, from my breasts to my cunt. I'd suggested twenty because I felt I could orgasm that quickly. Performing for others always putting me on a hair trigger, and not having cum since our morning sex until now. I did, in fact, orgasm, around the nineteenth stroke, the second of them to my clit area, one of the leather strips striking it just right to send me over the top. Mine weren't the only orgasmic cries I heard. Felicity seemed to be cumming as well. Dr. Sadiq was watching her quiver with a great deal of surprise.

"Did you just orgasm?" Mahdi asked.

"Yes," she squeaked ashamedly.

"Were you touching yourself, masturbating."

"No."

"Take off your clothes."

"Mahdi?"

He didn't say anything further, just looked at her and after about ten seconds she removed her outer clothes, standing in her bra and panties.

"All of them."

She looked at all of us. Not much help there. Two of us were already naked and had orgasmed several times in addition to giving Master a blow job. She slowly removed her bra, hoping her husband would stop her. Even more slowly removing her panties, a rather functional instead of pretty pair. When she was naked, she stood there with a hand across her breasts, her thighs clutched together and another hand over her groin. She didn't shave or trim at all and her pubic hair puffed out around her hand. She was a lovely girl though. Mahdi was a lucky man.

"Move your hands away, spread your legs."

When she obeyed, we could see her fluids running down her legs. She knew we could all see it. It shamed her to know we knew.

"Did anyone give you permission to orgasm?"

"No, sir." Shocked at the question.

"Joshua, may I please borrow that paddle you just used."

"Of course, I'll have Beth wash the handle first."

"No need."

Master handed it to Dr. Sadiq who used the handle to fuck Felicity to an orgasm. After she climaxed again, once more without permission, which took almost no time at all, he told Felicity to open her mouth. He pushed the messy cum covered handle into her mouth telling her to lick it clean. Since it had Miranda's and my cum on it, I expected her to hesitate but she sucked every drop of cum off it, looking at her new Master as she did.

When she was done, he told her to kneel on the couch with her ass facing the rest of us.

"Ten strokes per orgasm without permission, you say," he paused for a moment to hear Master's answer.

"It's ten for me," Master said smiling. "You can impose any punishment you both agree on."

"I think it should be twenty per time," Mahdi said, "or forty for you for cumming twice without permission, once even without being touched. What say you, slave?"

"That seems fair, sir." Felicity was smiling as she said it.

Mahdi tested it on his thigh, recognizing how much it stung even through his pants. He took a little off and gave her twenty stiff strokes, turning her English bottom a nice rosy red. He started on the second twenty. About six in, she asked for permission to cum.

He looked at us. Master shrugged. I said, "She's a slut slave, Master Sadiq. She needs to cum. Whether she does is up to you."

"You may cum, slave."

With the next stroke she shivered into a violent orgasm, her pussy winking at all of us as she spasmed.

Dr. Sadiq finished giving her the remainder of her forty swats, then fucked her with the handle again to her fourth.

She was out of breath and panting when it was over. "Is this what you want, Felicity?" Mahdi asked. "This is what you want for yourself?"

"Yes, Master."

"Talaq. I divorce you." She started to turn, her face a mask of anguish. Mahdi smacked her ass. "Hold still, whore. Keep your whore ass pointing at these strangers."

Tears started flowing down her face but she faced forward and held still. Dr. Sadiq released his cock. It was a nice cock. Not quite a big as Master's but with a good shape and nice upward curve and plump head. He pushed into her cunt, smacking hard against her ass. She squelched when he smacked up against her damp pussy. He fucked her hard. She climaxed two more times despite her tears, neither time with permission, not even asking for it. She'd learn.

"I thought I was marrying a prim and proper English lady who willingly accepted my religion instead of another westernized whore slut. Apparently, I was mistaken." She was sobbing quite loudly as her husband fucked her.

It didn't take him long and he orgasmed, shooting a full load of cum into her already wet, puffy, pussy. He wiped his cock off on her ass when he pulled out.

"Get dressed," he ordered as he zipped up.

Generally speaking, we were quiet as she dressed, allowing her some silence to contemplate her situation.

Before they left, I asked, "Is it true that under Islamic law, the divorce doesn't become final until the passage of three menstrual cycles and you have to abstain from sex during the entire time?"

Dr. Sadiq smiled and said that was true. "How long do you think you'll be able to abstain from fucking this delightful pleasure slave?" I asked.

"No longer than it takes to get home, I imagine."

"I would suppose it will be hard to keep your hands off and cock out of a naked slave as pleasing as she is?"

Felicity started to get a smile on her face, realizing what was happening. It was unlikely she was ever getting divorced if she was pleasing to her new Master.

"I'll probably have to fuck her every day, perhaps more than once."

"Good slaves should be kept on their hands and knees serving powerful Masters."

"I think so too."

"Thank you for your help, Dr. Sadiq. I hope you enjoy your new slave. Allah's blessings on you both."

"And on you and yours, Beth. Joshua, Miranda, salaam."

"Shalom Dr. Sadiq. It's been interesting."

"Hasn't it. Keep me updated on the status of your patients, Beth."

"Absolutely, Doctor. Let us know how Hafsa and Sumrah do."

"I will. Come along, slave."

"Yes, Master."

After they left, Miranda said, "Aren't they getting divorced?"

I laughed. "Not unless he can stop fucking her for over three months. She'll be like you, wife and whore, although I doubt it will be anyone other than her Master who she fucks. There are limits for Muslims. I think he was messing with her a bit. He has more of a sense of humor than I gave him credit for."

"I didn't think it would turn so quickly," Master said. "I thought there'd be a little more testing the waters, exploring the nature of the relationship."

"I didn't expect it either, sir. Perhaps it was your example."

"Or yours."

******

After eating a late lunch, I held my first group. Yasmine, our newest freed slave was the only one who didn't attend as she didn't speak enough English yet. Even Sahar attended, which surprised me some as she seemed settled in her ways, becoming lethal and accepting she'd have sex with women the rest of her life.

"One of the goals of therapy is to confront the things that happened to you. To find ways to deal with it. I'm not here to treat you. I'm here to help lead the group, to get you talking amongst yourselves. You've all been through similar things. You'll need to help each other heal. I haven't been through what you went through. Part of the reason we put you together as much as possible is you understand each other better than anyone else can who hasn't gone through it. One of you will have a way that helps you deal with your pain and you'll pass that on to someone else and it will help them. I'll help you talk to each other, to keep you focused on helping each other and not talking about Ateefah's marriage or your new jobs on the ship.

"To start off, why don't each of you talk about one of the worst things that happened to you as a slave; how it made you feel when it happened, how you feel about it now with the perspective of time? Does it still bother you, give you nightmares? Have you had a flashback memory to that particular incident? Have you found some way of dealing with it that seems to be working for you, then share that with the others who might not have found a way to deal with it yet. Fatima, why don't you begin as you've been freed the longest and might have more perspective."

So Fatima discussed something which happened to her. It had been fairly common for the slaves captured by Mahmoud, to be forced to eat feces and to drink the piss of the guards and it reached the point it no longer mattered to her. It was like eating food. Each of the other Mahmoud captives had undergone the same, so each of them could add to the discussion. Maahnoor went next and she talked about being taken anally and coming to enjoy this sinful sex, even to sucking the cocks of the men who fucked her, going ass to mouth. She talked about missing it once it stopped and how it caused problems in her marriage.

Hibbah spoke about losing her virginity to a man with a large cock and how painful it had been and how it added to her fear of men. It was Sahar's turn and she suddenly got up and started to walk out.

"Sahar, it's important to talk about this so you can confront your pain and learn how to deal with it," I said.

"I would rather shoot myself dead than ever speak about what happened to me. I'll deal with it when I kill the bastards who did it."

It was the last session she ever attended. The rest of them talked for about two hours, and I thought it was productive although we all cried quite a bit. It was hard, but since it was perhaps the worst thing that happened, perhaps the rest would get easier. I went looking for Sahar and found her at the gun range on Hogan's Alley. Edgar had gotten other scenarios added to the programming and she was working on clearing a skyscraper, the ship clearing exercise no longer presenting a challenge to her. She'd never been inside a skyscraper, so this was a bit more challenging, the bad guys going up and down multiple stories on elevators and stairs, getting behind her. It was designed to have a four man squad of men clearing it. She was working it herself, eventually losing but getting further each time.

"Can we talk, Sahar?"

"Not if you want to talk about what happened to me. I didn't want to speak about it in group, nor do I want to talk about it with you."

"Don't you want to get rid of the blackness inside you?"

"Not if I have to talk about it. I'll keep my blackness and live with it. I won't live with talking about it. As I said, I'd rather kill myself."

"Even if you don't talk about your pain, you could come back to the group and hopefully something said will help you."

"I don't want to add their pain to my own. The weight of it is already almost more than I can bear. Listening to more of it might make me snap. I'll live with what I have and hope to live long enough to see everyone who hurt me and the others in their graves. That's all I want. It's all I need. Except maybe a little sex once in a while. If you want to have sex, we can talk in the bedroom, what you westerners call pillow talk. I'll talk pillow talk, not the past. Are we done now? Ethan is going to work out with me later. I'd like to see how much further I can get before dying."

"No, we're done. If you don't see the value in it, you probably won't get much out of it."

Sahar nodded and resumed killing people.

******

"Sahar said she'd rather kill herself than discuss what happened to her. How bad must something be that you'd rather die than discuss it, Master?"

"Pretty damn bad," Master said.

He was trailing a fingernail down my spine to my ass crevice after some awesome sex. I still had some of Miranda's dried cum around my lips. All five of us were rather exhausted with the lassitude which comes after multiple orgasms.

"How did the group go other than her lack of participation?"

"It went well for a first one, sir, but the topic was rough. I wanted to start off with some of the worst things they could remember, so they could get that out of the way and the topics would get easier."

"Do I want to know what those were?"

"I don't think so, Master. You'd have a damn poor opinion of the human race if you know all we're capable of. I'd prefer to think of all the good people I've met. I've met a lot of really good people, nice people, this cruise. Almost like family. We've helped a lot of people, for which I can't thank you enough. You impress me. I had no idea of what to expect when I first signed up for this gig. Obviously, I expected a lot of sex, which until I went under Mistress Layton, I thought I'd be merely tolerating instead of enjoying with all my heart. I liked sex, but it wasn't as if I needed sex as much as I do now."

His finger had moved over my anal opening and was currently sliding over my perineum and was approaching my well used pussy. I spread my legs further apart to grant him more access if he wanted it. It belonged to him now. It was still wet, a mixture of fluids, mine and his despite the excellent cleaning provided by Francesca earlier.

"Everyone is enjoying more sex now," Master said. "I almost feel like I own the Love Boat instead of the American Entrepreneur. Everyone has discovered how good sex can be, instead of something to be gotten through to get to an orgasm."

"Amen," said Francesca.

Belle and Miranda were in a sixty-nine at the moment, their soft lapping in the background, but one of them squeezed my hand.

"I'm going to miss all of you when you have to go back," I said. "How much longer?"

"A couple more days in London. Two days sailing to Oslo. Five days in Norway for Bjorn and Lynn's wedding," Master said. "Nine more days before they have to go back. Edgar is going to question the other rescued Mahmoud slave tomorrow. Fatima is going with. Would you like to go?"

"You're going to let me off the ship, sir? Be still my beating heart."

"It won't be for sightseeing. You'll be flown direct to Scotland Yard. You'll be able to see some of the sights by air though. Perhaps I can have Leo do fly bys of the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, and Buckingham Palace on the way back, though a lot of it might be restricted airspace. Maybe a short jaunt up and down the river as we came in after dark."

"Sure, I'll take that trip. Will we ever be able to come back to London and really sightsee?"

"Of course. I do a lot of business in Great Britain. As soon as things die down a little and we figure out why and by whom those attacks were made on us."

"When does Delphine join Hannah, Master?"

"One of the last days in Oslo. She'll be along for the rest of the Norway leg."

Two of Master's fingers penetrated my sex and I gasped, arching my back, then moaned as he quickly found my g-spot. He bent to kiss me, stealing my breath.

"I'll let Francesca lick you while I fuck her," Master said.

"Can I cum, sir?"

"I haven't decided yet. I'm still thinking about it."

"I wonder how Felicity is doing, Master?" I asked, panting, my back arching my cunt against his probing fingers.

"If she's anything like you, I'm sure she's doing quite well."

I laughed, then gasped again as his fingers moved inside of me. No doubt he was right. Submissives such as myself tended to do quite well when paired with a good Master. Master's fingers withdrew and Francesca's lips and tongue replaced it. I heard him grunt as he entered her. Not by any indication did I know Master fucked her. She was a well trained slave.

******

Edgar, Ethan and Thomas went with Fatima and me to Scotland Yard. They were our security detail, but Master usually used the Brits as much as possible when in England so they got to associate with their countrymen. It was also important they return to England so they maintain their British citizenship. They had to surrender their weapons when they entered the building, but no one expected an attack on the police building.

They had a room set aside for our interview. Only Edgar came into the room with us. We felt having too many tough men speaking to her would be too much. Edgar needed to be there because he was coordinating the search for Mahmoud. The woman wasn't staying at Scotland Yard, but had been brought here so we could talk to her. Her name was Cyrine and she'd been taken in Tunisia. She spoke Arabic, with smattering's of English and Urdu due to her Master, Isam. She'd been a slave for over two years. She had Mahmoud's brand.

Fatima introduced us. They spoke for a while in Arabic, our purpose in speaking to her, wishing to find Mahmoud and being able to stop him from taking young women as slaves. She agreed to speak to us because we'd helped free her and Hafsa from Isam. She was surprised to find Fatima had been a slave taken by Mahmoud himself. I had an iPad with the translation set for Arabic so I follow along as much as possible. Edgar was looking over my shoulder so he could read along with me.

"You aren't a slave anymore even though you're branded?"

"No, and you aren't either. We've learned Isam is dead and we understand the British government will be giving you money from his holdings in England to compensate you for your slavery."

I slid one of Master's business cards over to Fatima and told her to give it to Cyrine. If she ever needed help, she could call the phone number and help would be forthcoming. Help with job, financial help, anything at all.

Fatima gave her the card. "Why does he want to help Cyrine?" she asked.

"Because he's helping lots of people freed from slavery, including me and several others."

"He wants sex with me?"

"No. You never have to have sex again unless you want to."

"What do you want?"

"To find Mahmoud and arrest or kill him," Fatima said.

"Mahmoud too powerful, too many men. He never be killed or arrested."

"We have many men too; and can get many more if needed. We have freed many slaves already. Governments are looking for him. Many police. We just have to find where he is. We've managed to trace him to the Atlas Mountains in North Africa near Morocco, Any information you give us will be added to the information we already have to find him."

"I know where Mahmoud is. Well, not exactly, but fairly close. Isam have a map I see one time showing where he purchased me from."

Edgar grabbed my iPad and pulled up a map of North Africa and put it in front of Cyrine. "Where?" he asked.

Fatima asked where and Cyrine pointed to Morocco, damned near the center of the country. "Someplace in this general area."

Edgar zoomed in on the map to see if she could narrow it down further. There were definitely tall mountains in the vicinity. "Can you be more specific?" Edgar asked and Fatima repeated the question.

"It was not a big map, so I can't be more specific, but it's somewhere in there."

"God, look at how close it is to major population centers," Edgar said. "Casablanca, Rabat, Tangier and Marrakech are all within 150-300 miles. I thought it would be in one of the border regions which tend to be more lawless."

"Does it help?" I asked.

"It narrows the search from several thousand square miles to a few hundred. It's eminently more doable."

"Where did Cyrine see the map? Was it here or in Pakistan?" I asked. "Maybe it's still in his house."