My Voyage of Submission

"Can she do that?" Fatima asked.

"She's perfectly capable of doing it," I said. "She was a Marine Corps sniper. She might think twice about it if she met him in a situation where she might get caught."

"No jury in the world would convict me if I showed them what he did to young women," Roberta said.

"I wish that were true," I said. "A man burned his own daughter alive because she'd dishonored him by conceiving a child out of wedlock. The jury didn't convict him because it was justified."

"How can that be?" Roberta asked.

"How can human trafficking still exist? Because people buy slaves and other people look the other way and never think to question it. But selling people is a multi mega billion dollar business. It's growing every year. At the slave auction where Fatima was sold, she saw over thirty others sold with more in cages waiting to be sold. They came from all over the world. Fatima was taken while on vacation with her parents in Algiers. Others were from South America. Women are sold into slavery in the United States, used as prostitutes. It's an international business. Hopefully, we'll find a way to put the one who sold Fatima out of business."

Fatima had started to groan from the pressure Roberta was exerting on her back.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Roberta asked as she eased up.

"You are, but it hurts good. Does that make sense? Don't stop."

"It does to me," I laughed. "A lot of things hurt good."

Roberta stayed away from her erogenous zones, but did a bang up job and Fatima was limp when she finished. She took the towel and covered her back with it.

"Stay here and relax while I get everything ready to do your hair."

"I don't think I can move anyway," Fatima said.

Roberta chuckled. "Good."

She went into the next room and started getting ready.

"Was it as nice as you thought it would be?" I asked.

"I had no idea it would feel this good. I had no expectations, except I'd heard they were supposed to feel nice. It was great."

"I'm glad you liked it."

Roberta brought in a robe, soft and fluffy. "Put this on. You don't want to put that suit on yet. It's not dry."

Fatima was unselfconscious when she put the robe on. She'd been a slave long enough, mere nudity no longer had any effect on her. Roberta led her to the hair salon and invited her to sit in a chair.

"What do you think I should do with you," Roberta said, adjusting her chair so they could both look in the mirror.

"I have a suggestion," I said. "Make her look glamorous. It doesn't look as if Hans cared much about her hair. I think she could look absolutely stunning."

"Glamorous it is."

Roberta cut her hair which was fairly long, washed it and combed it out into a nice afro, about four inches long in length.

"Call Angelique and see if she can meet us in Fatima's room," I said. "I'm thinking make-up and I don't know much about make-up, especially for black women."

Roberta got on the ships phone and called. A few sentences later, Roberta said, "Angelique said to bring her to Hannah's room. She has everything there to doll her up right."

"Thank you," Fatima said, standing, looking first one way, then the other at herself in the mirror. "This looks wonderful."

Fatima started to remove the robe to return it. It was off her shoulders when Roberta said, "Keep the robe. I want you to have it. No point in putting a wet suit on again. Keep the cream too. Use it several times a day. Let someone spread it on your back."

"I'll return it after I put clothes on again. Beth says I can't go around naked."

"No, I want you to have it. It's a gift, a present, from me to you."

"Really?" Roberta nodded. "Thank you, again." Fatima hugged Roberta. "This is very special."

I grabbed Fatima's swimsuit and we went to Hannah's room. Angelique was waiting for us, with clothes on. She looked Fatima over. "Yes, I see what you're going for here. This is good. Have a seat at the dressing table and let's have a go at you."

With Fatima's back to the mirror, Angelique began working on her. Twenty minutes later, Ange told her to turn around and look at herself. She'd taken some gold flecked eyeliner and applied it over her eyes, with a thin gold stripe painted on the lower lid. Her cheeks had a light brush of reddish gold and a gold lipstick with a gloss over it. Fatima's eyes widened at the sight.

"¡Bendita Madre!" Fatima explained. "I look like a fairy princess."

"And I have the perfect dress for you. It's short on me, but will almost sweep the floor on you."

Angelique pulled it out of her closet and held it up. It was a gold shimmery material to match the make-up, a sheathe type with one strap going over the left shoulder, almost a toga style. As Angelique said, it dropped nearly to the floor. Fatima's breasts were larger, but with their respective heights, the chests were nearly the same and since it primarily draped, it didn't make any difference. Fatima was stunning.

"The dress is yours," Ange said. "You look fabulous."

Since it was now nearly time for dinner, I thought we should make a grand entrance, rather than spoil the surprise by letting her wander the ship beforehand. Angelique gave Fatima some make up tips and talked to her about caring for her afro. At five minutes after the dinner hour, all three of us walked down to the dining room.

"Put a smile on your face, and after the men's jaws have hit the floor, do a small curtsy, like this," I showed her, "then sweep into the room and have a seat. Believe me; they're going to be floored."

I stood in the doorway, rapped on the wall drawing everyone's attention and said, "Presenting, Fatima!"

She stepped into the room with a small smile on her face. It went exactly as I expected. The men wore stupefied looks of amazement on their faces. The women started exclaiming how beautiful she looked. She gave a tiny curtsy and took her seat, a big grin from ear to ear. Edgar was sitting next to her and he couldn't take his eyes off her, totally speechless.

"My God, Fatima, you're incredible," Master said.

"Thank you, sir. It's all due to my new friends. I couldn't have done it myself. Roberta did my hair and Angelique did my make-up and gave me the dress."

I took my seat next to her. "Fatima gave us the foundation to work with."

"Va va va voom," Leo said.

"What century did you grow up in, Leo," I said. "That sounds like something people would have said in the fifties."

"But perfectly appropriate for a pilot, Miss Beth. Fatima has just blasted across the sky."

"What a sweet thing to say. I forgive you for every bad thing I've ever thought about you," I laughed.

"Have you thought bad things about him?" Fatima asked. "He seems rather nice to me."

"No, not bad thoughts at all," I said, "but I wouldn't want him getting a swelled head. He already thinks he's God's gift to women because he's a pilot. No point in contributing to his delusions of grandeur."

Edgar was still gaping. "Don't you have something to say, Edgar? Your mouth is hanging open like words want to come out of it," I said.

"She's beautiful. Like movie star, supermodel, beautiful," he choked out.

"If you didn't see that before, it's because you weren't looking hard enough. We just applied the paint job. The structure was there pre-paint."

During the rest of the meal, Fatima seemed to flower, laughing like I'd never heard her laugh before, peals of merriment, teasing and flirting with the men, all of whom seemed enamored with her. I wondered if I was starting to see the person she'd been before, beloved daughter of beloved parents. Dinner dragged on for almost two hours, no one wanting it to end. We finally finished and the three of us went to Master's cabin.

"Go to bed, Fatima. I need time alone with my Master. Hang your dress up and wash your make-up off. You shouldn't leave it on overnight."

"Yes, good night and thank you for a wonderful day."

"You're welcome, Fatima. I'll see you in the morning."

She slipped into my room and I was stripped in a trice and helping Master doff his clothes. I needed to fuck so bad. He was hard before his pants were off. Maybe he'd been hard all dinner. He fucked me like he'd been hard for hours, tearing into me, pumping hard until he orgasmed gasping. I sucked him back to hardness and he had me ride him, the worst of our needs taken care of.

I was quite delirious in my pleasure, softly moaning as I rose up and down over his thick stalk piercing me. Master was playing with my breasts, brushing the pads of his thumbs over my sensitive nipples. I heard a small whimper other than my own and looked up to see Fatima standing there, one hand down her sleep pants, another under her top, squeezing her breasts.

I gasped, seeing her, "Jesus, Fatima, you scared me. Go back to bed."

"Mota," she said.

"What did you say?" Master demanded.

"Mota," Fatima shuddered and backed away. "Don't beat me, please."

"We're not going to beat you, Fatima. Did you just say 'Mota'?" I'd stopped moving over my Master, but his cock still throbbed inside of me.

"Yes." Timidly.

"Why don't you want to go back to your bed?" I asked.

"I've seen many women fucked, been fucked hundreds of times myself, but I've never seen what I'd consider love making like yours. It was beautiful. I want to watch you."

"Come here, please. Sit on the bed."

Fatima sat on the edge of the bed, cowering, looking ready to run, but sitting.

"Just as you can say 'Mota', so can we," I said. "I have the right not to be watched while I'm fucking my Master."

"You weren't fucking. I've seen fucking. That was not fucking."

"What I'm saying is we have a right to privacy if we wish it. You wanting to stay and watch does not override our desire to be alone. I have rights too, just as you do. I'm trying not to expose you to things which might harm you."

"What you were doing, could not harm me. It was as far from what happened to me as we are from the sun. Please, can't I stay and watch. I want to know what it's like for two people in love, not what was done to me."

"She did say 'Mota', Beth. It's a start," Master said.

"Yes, she did, didn't she," I laughed. "Fine. But there will be certain rules. You can stay and watch, but you'll keep your clothes on and you don't get to have sex with us. Watching only."

"Yes, Beth," she said with a smile. "Thank you."

I recommenced riding my Master. I was a slave. It was all fucking to me. He hadn't lost a whit of hardness during our conversation. We fucked for a long time, Master stopping when he had to cum, and doing other things until his arousal diminished enough to continue. It was a love evolution for one pair of watching eyes. Her fingers dipped into her sleepwear frequently as she watched and mine were not the only female cries of orgasm to sound in the night. Master finally climaxed and we cleaned each other off. When Master and I finally cuddled together to sleep, I felt her body molding to mine from the back.

******