Paradise Isle, Slave Trade Pt. 01

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When she stepped over to open the door, the material of her dress brushed against her clit ring and she felt another shock form her sex. It caused her to again stop, moan and clutch at her crotch.

She stood there for another minute, until it occurred to her that clothes would continue to be a problem. She laughed dejectedly as it occurred to her that perhaps going naked all of the time might be a good thing.

Kevin was waiting just outside the door, and as soon as he saw her, he stepped up and gave her a friendly and consoling hug. "I rescheduled your other procedure for a couple of days from now. You've been through enough. Come on let's get you back to your suite."

She appreciated his touch, he did seem to be a nice guy, for a slave handler.

With his arm wrapped around her they walked out of the clinic. As she walked, every so often she faltered as she received a shock from her clit ring.

Kevin noticed. "The nurse told me to get you back to your bed before that anesthetic wears off. I'm certain you're going to be sore for a while."

They walked together down the hall, through the lobby and out to the waiting cart. And with every shaky step, they could both hear the noise that would accompany her everywhere from now on. It turned him on, and her off.

Back in her suite, after stripping off her dress, she just crashed, physically and emotionally drained. She didn't even dream, and she slept right through lunch and well into the afternoon. When she did wake up, she was starving, so she ordered food and then crawled out of bed to empty her bladder. And everything hurt!

Her nose, and tongue, and her nipples and especially her crotch. And every movement sent pain through her body.

She could only walk if she held one hand on her crotch to hold the rings and chains, preventing them from moving, and her other hand and forearm across her breasts to cradle her poor nipples.

And peeing was a frustrating challenge with all of the cursed chains in the way. She had to use both hands to untangle them and pull them to the sides. And even then, she got urine on her fingers. What a mess!

Unable to shower for a day or two, while she healed, she used a damp wash cloth to clean her chains. Cursing the whole time.

And eating her lunch was a total failure. She had forgotten to order a meal that wouldn't upset the holes in her tongue. So, she could eat only a small amount of her food. Frustrated, she wound up dumping most of it and ordering another lunch that would be easier for her to deal with.

The big ring in her nose was another frustration. It did get in the way. Especially when she drank from a glass, it dipped into her wine and then dripped down her chin and onto her chest.

After eating she laid back down on her bed and tried to nap, but she spent a lot of time dreading her life for the next three years, having to deal with her new decorations. She was already anxious to get them cut out. Even if they did leave their holes behind.

Dinner that night went better, as she started to get used to dealing with her jewelry. Although it still hurt.

And the following day, as she continued lying about, was better still. On her last trip to the bathroom, she didn't even feel the need to hold her crotch when she walked. And she was able to gather her chains and hold them aside without getting pee all over. Whoopee!

The next morning, she was feeling even better, and was wearing a dress, waiting when Kevin nocked on her door.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, sympathetically. He did seem to care.

"I'm sore, but I'm getting used to jingling and jangling." She replied with a dry smile.

He laughed. "I bet. I'm afraid you'll have to live with those things. Perhaps your owners will get tired of them and have that stuff removed."

"Or they'll decide that they like them and have more added." She said, sadly. It was one of the things she'd spent some time during the night thinking about, and dreading.

"Well, at least the pain is going away, and you're talking better."

"Yes, I suppose. Look on the bright side," she said as she shook her head, feeling the ring dangling on her lip.

"So, what's on the agenda for today? No more piercings, I hope."

"No, nothing so severe. In fact, you might even enjoy some of it. Come on, we'll go get it done."

This time he took her to the spa, and to a hair dresser.

It took several hours but when she was done, with extensions and coloring, her hair was much longer and fuller and steel grey with silver highlights.

"What do you think?" Kevin asked when he came to collect her.

"Um, I've seen this look in magazines. And always thought it was sexy, but odd - young women with grey hair, just seems wrong."

"Well, that's what your owners wanted."

"I do like the long thick hair. But I bet it will be a lot of work."

"I think it looks great." He told her. "You look sexy and exotic."

"Thanks. We done?"

"No, sorry, one more procedure."

He took her to another procedure room, where another man in scrubs waited, and just looking at him, she could tell what would come next. Tattoos.

She'd never been fond of them, on women or men. She didn't understand the need. Especially now that her body looked so good; her skin so perfect.

The guy introduced himself, and then had her lift her dress to expose her sex, as she laid back onto a padded table. As she did, she felt both embarrassed by her pussy decorations, and nervous about what and where she'd be inked.

All the guy said was, "nice," as he saw her. And then he just got to work.

She felt him clean her mound, just above her pussy, and then he applied a stencil.

"Okay, I didn't see any, but have you ever been tattooed before?"

"No."

"Well, I'll apply a topical anesthetic, but this is still going to sting. You just need to relax and let me work. Close your eyes and go to your happy place. Try not to move, we don't want it ruined. Do we?"

"No." she sighed.

And then she felt the stinging of a hundred red ants, on her lower belly. She moaned, but didn't move.

"Good girl." He mumbled as he continued to mark her.

When he was finally finished, he smeared the area with a cream and then covered it with a layer of plastic.

She never even got a look.

She turned to Kevin. "What is it? What does it look like."

The tattooist replied. "Right now, it doesn't look good at all. You wouldn't be able to tell. In a couple of days, you can take off the covering to gently wash it with the lotion in the kit I'll give you. All of the aftercare instructions and everything else you'll need are in there, too."

Then he handed her a piece of paper with a drawing. "This is from the stencil I used."

She took it and looked. It was a word, in kind of an elaborate Germanic script. And it said 'Sklavin' in blue letters about four centimeters tall. With the word about six centimeters across.

It was big, and she remembered reading somewhere that the word was German for 'slave'.

Well, that's appropriate, was her first thought, and then she moved on, and it must extend all the way across my lower tummy.

But then it really hit her, I'm marked as a slave forever!

Kevin saw her expression change and guessed what she was thinking. "Tattoos can be removed." He said to her quietly.

Michelle only nodded. She remembered that, but still...

Twenty minutes later Kevin walked her, jingling of course, back into her suite.

"That's the last of it. You are now just as your new owners wanted. So, all you need to do now, is relax and recover. Follow the instructions for your tattoo.

"Okay." She said, not all that relieved. She was still upset over her inked status.

Kevin stepped up and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"Get some rest. If you'd like to go out and see the resort, or just get a non room-service meal, give me a call. Otherwise, just hang here. You start S3, on Monday."

"S3?"

"Slave Sex School. There is a Sex School, S2, for regular guests who just need to learn about better sex. It's a week-long program. And there's a Slave Sex School for slaves. It's a two-week program. That's next on your agenda. Your owners want to make sure you know how to satisfy them."

"Oh joy."

The next afternoon, bored, she called Kevin, "Hey, I'm bored, and only my tattoo is truly sore, how about dinner out at a restaurant? Your choice."

"I'd be happy to take a beautiful girl out. We can walk a bit around the grounds, and then have a nice meal. I know just the place."

"Great!"

"One thing, though. No dress. Slave girls don't wear clothes out in the courtyard. At most they wear only bikini bottoms, and that's not really an option for you."

"I can't!" she replied dreading the humiliation of being on display to all the guests and staff, too.

"Michelle, you can. Around here naked women, and men, are nothing unusual. You'll see. And you won't be the only slave, either."

He paused, and sighed. "You might as well get used to it. You won't be allowed to refuse when you're with your owners."

When she didn't respond, he told her to think it over. "I'll be happy to take you out, if you change your mind."

She called him back a couple of hours later and agreed to his terms. He was right, she had to get used to being a slave on display, and she was hungry, and actually the more she thought about it, the more curious she became about how the public would respond to the sight of her. Maybe it would be fun.

She spent a few minutes while she waited for him, debating about shoes. She wasn't allowed to wear any clothes, but apparently shoes weren't forbidden, there were several pairs of high-heeled sandals in the closet.

She considered going barefoot, but decided that probably wouldn't do. Looking at her options, she picked out a strappy pair of sandals with about three-inch heels, and slipped them on.

He came over, wearing just his swim suit an hour later. He looked good, and she was again aroused by the thought of sex with him. She wondered if it was allowed, after all they had some sort of a professional relationship going. The professional slave handler and the slave. She wondered, too if he did it with all of the girls he supervised.

"You do look wonderfully sexy," he said when he saw her. "And the shoes are good. But a little tame for a well-dressed slave girl."

"Huh? Well dressed? I'm naked!" and she couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation.

"You're a sexy slave, so you should be wearing a taller pair." And he sounded serious.

"Really? I thought these looked nice."

"Not sexy enough. Grab a taller pair." He said, and it was clearly an order.

Not used to taking orders, especially about what she wore, she almost argued, but then it struck her that slaves don't argue. They comply. So, she shrugged, and went back to her closet.

She came out a couple minutes later in a pair with four-inch spikes.

Michelle thought she looked good, and sexy in the things, and they were suitably difficult to walk in. She wasn't used to wearing heels at all, let alone killer tall ones.

She was disappointed, though when after an inspection, his comment was only lukewarm. "Those look better, but you need to get used to taller ones."

"Taller than these? I can barely walk in them. I'll fall on my ass!"

He frowned at her, and she realized that she'd gotten out of line, for a slave girl.

"You had better learn to walk in taller ones. Like five-inchers, as I would bet your owners will require it, and you can be sure they'll punish you if you argue or fail to live up to their standards."

That surprised and frightened her. Softly she asked, "what kind of punishment?" Now completely subdued.

"Well, my dear, corporal punishment is common. I would expect spankings with crops or paddles. And of course, there are always very uncomfortable bondage scenarios. Regardless, whatever form the punishments take, I'm certain you won't enjoy them. So, you'd better behave, dress appropriately and get used to it. Clear?"

"Yes, sir." She answered in a whisper. Clearly cowed and fearful.

To demonstrate, her change in attitude, she turned and went back into the closet, returning a few minutes later, wobbling along in five-inch heels.

He nodded, "good girl. Now come on, let's go."

She smiled sheepishly, in response. Damn, this is going to be hard...

At the door, he expertly clicked a leash to her collar, and she noticed him grinning. "What are you smiling about now? Do you enjoy leading girls around on a chain?" She asked him gloomily.

He paused for a moment, "no, it's not that. It's that you look fantastic. Pretty and insanely erotic with your beautiful body and its decorations."

Surprised, and ashamed, she stammered, "Oh, sorry, thanks." And she leaned in to give him an apologetic kiss on the cheek, and her nose ring got in the way.

She pulled back and grabbed the thing with her fingers, mumbling a curse.

Watching her, he chuckled. "Don't worry, that thing felt kind of nice, in an exotically sexy sort of way."

Then he leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek, and she enjoyed that.

As he led her out the door, she felt a little better.

Until, they encountered another couple, as they walked along the pathway, and they, both the man and the woman, stopped and stared as the slave was led past, her jewelry jingling and jangling with every step.

Michelle blushed, and kept walking, avoiding eye contact. She knew what they were thinking, she couldn't blame them. She was indeed a sex slave. But she hadn't expected it to be this hard.

Just before they moved away, she heard the woman ask, "Tattoo?" Michelle didn't hear the man's mumbled response, but she heard the woman's reply, "slut." she had said.

The bitch had seen the bandage that covered her mound and was questioning that. She wondered if her mark was going to be the first thing people noticed. And either they'd know what it meant, or be curious enough to look it up later. No, it's not my name, or the name of my owner. It's what I am.

From then on, she found herself becoming less self-conscious about her body, or her piercings and jewelry, it was the bandage over her tattoo that bothered her when people stared.

And everyone they encountered did indeed stare at her, all the while she and Kevin walked around, ate their dinner and walked back.

She seemed to be the only other slave girl out and about, that night. And everyone watched or commented, or accosted them. Kevin handled all of the replies. She was too flustered to respond.

And when one woman, stepped up to her and without warning hooked a finger through her nose ring to hold her in place, so she could grab a handful of her pussy chains with the other, Michelle was stunned by the woman's audacity. And hurt by her grip on her jewelry, in both locations.

"What a lovely little slave." The woman said, with a cold smile. She turned her head to look over at Kevin. "Is she for sale or rent?"

"No, she's owned and being prepared for delivery."

"Oh, such a pity. I think she's lovely, and I'd really like to spend some quality time with her. She'd make a wonderful gift for my husband, too."

"Sorry, now if you'd kindly unhand her. I believe that's enough." Kevin said firmly. His tome was strong, even threatening. Michelle was shocked by that too. And she was anxious to get away from the witchy woman.

The woman got the message and immediately released her hold, and Michelle took a step back and looked over at her handler, with her eyes tearing up, completely humiliated by the encounter.

"Goodnight, then," she said as she turned away, seemingly in a huff. As if she'd been the one assailed.

Kevin then looked at Michelle. "Relax; no big deal."

"What? That woman grabbed me! Assaulted me."

"Michelle. You're a slave girl. You had better get used to things like that. I'm sure that the way you look, that kind of thing or worse will happen often." He paused for a moment, to let that sink in before adding, "she did pay you a compliment. She was attracted to you enough to offer to buy you. And you can bet she knew that would have been a very expensive proposition."

Again, Michelle was surprised. A compliment? As she thought about it, she supposed it was indeed a compliment. She was wanted, desired, and apparently valued at some large number.

"How expensive?"

He scoffed. "Think seven figures. Maybe more. But you need to learn to submit, to anyone and everyone. Otherwise..."

"Punishment?"

He laughed, "yes that. But also, your value would go down. And that's never a good thing. Right now, the way you look, you really are worth a fortune. So, you need to behave like a high value sex object. Got it?"

She thought for a moment, then a smile crept onto her face. A small one, but nevertheless a smile. "Yes, Master."

He chuckled. "That's a good slave." And he leaned in and gave her a kiss. Not on the cheek this time, but on the mouth, and he purposely included her nose ring, mashing it between their lips. And he even opened his mouth to lick around the thing and then push past it into her mouth.

Pleasantly surprised, and highly aroused, she opened her lips take him in and she pushed her tongue into his.

When his tongue hit the beads in her tongue it felt weird, but intriguing. Worthy of more experimentation.

She realized how horny she was and how much she wanted to fuck him.

When he tried to step back, she grabbed him and hung on, but he gently pushed her away.

"Come along, little slave." He said as he pulled gently on her leash.

She pouted, theatrically. "But I want sex. I need it. Is there some rule against a slave girl screwing her handler?"

He laughed. "You'll get the sex. I'll be happy to satisfy your need. But let's do it in the room."

"Oh, goody." She said, and she swung her breasts from side to side, to generate energetic jingles from the little attached bells.

He laughed, and his cock got even harder. Then he turned and led her down the walkway toward her suite. She had to move along quickly, and unsteadily in her high heels, to keep up.

Inside her room, they hugged and kissed again, and he once again played with her nose ring as he kissed her. Perhaps it isn't such a big nuisance, she thought, as she enjoyed his attention.

When they came up for air, he continued to hold her tightly and she cuddled into his neck.

"You do need to get some more rest, you know. You only have the weekend before you start classes."

"I'll rest, but later." She giggled.

"Yes, I agree," he said as he kissed her again.

"You can relax tomorrow, and Sunday. Monday you'll be in S3. If you want to go out again, this weekend I'll be happy to take you. Remember, you can't go out alone."

"Oh, yah. Slave rules and Slave Sex School. But I'm sure I'd like out go out again. This was fun. I like you." And pulled him into another hug and kiss.

Afterwards she just tucked her head into his chest. "Thank you for being so kind and supportive. I expected and looked forward to the surgeries, but the piercings and the tattoo, were a shock. And now I have to really face the life of a sex slave. And that's scarry."

"My pleasure. You're a beautiful girl. And I like you too."

But then he let her go and stepped back.

"You know, I'm really not supposed to fraternize." He explained, in a whisper.

She chuckled. "Kevin. Don't make me beg. I have this fantastic body, and I'm a sex slave. Yet at least in this version I'm a virgin. And I don't want my first time to be with my master, or mistress."

She leaned in and kissed him again. And she reached down and felt his hard cock through his swim suit, and he moaned.

When he reached to remove his swim trunks she giggled and slapped his hands away. Then she grabbed them herself, and squatting unsteadily on her tall heels, she worked them down to reveal his hard cock. She wrapped her plump lips around it, and held it in her mouth as she continued to slide his suit down his legs.