Reflections Pt. 03

In my previous life, I never considered myself to be promiscuous. People would describe me as 'free spirited', 'open minded', 'hard to tie down'. In hindsight, they were all too polite to tell me I was slutty.

But my past experience proved to be an advantage in this reality. I realise I haven't explained what the second part of our day consists of, so I'll try to describe it.

We spend the first half of our day in the torturous exercise tent. After this, we make our way to another similar sized marquee. This one is walled, and instead of the exercise equipment, for the first few days there were thick, woven rugs spaced out throughout the room - one for each of us. Coloured silks adorn the walls and roof, sweet smelling incense burns, and wind chimes large and small provide a gentle, tinkling soundtrack. Fresh fruit and jugs of water are laid out on low, wooden tables placed around the edge of the floor.

We aren't permitted to shower until the evening, but in one corner there is a small platform with raised edges, a grated floor and a tap. Large jugs can be filled with water to rinse off the sweat, and small vials of scented oil to freshen up. Although we weren't permitted to talk, the excitement at getting to use something scented, was palpable.

The other cause for excitement was that we were unchained, and allowed to move freely throughout the room. It was just to eat, and quench our thirst, or take it in turns to cool down, but it was the most freedom we'd had since arriving here. Once we had freshened up, we knew to be seated based on the order we are chained in - there are still rules, even without the chains.

As I watched the other girls enjoying the pleasures of freedom and comfort, I knew that this was going to come at a price. I stole a glance at Duchess, who was already seated, her dark skin glowing in the lamp light. The cynical look in her eyes reflected my thoughts.

Ume was taking her turn to cool off, and I jumped at the chance to properly admire her. She is so exquisite - porcelain skin, dark hair, pouty pink lips, perfect breasts... she caught me watching, and blushed. I dipped my eye, an apology of sorts, but when I looked up again her head was tipped back, long hair flowing down her arched back, pouring the water over herself slowly. When our eyes met again, we both blushed, but after that I knew it was ok to admire her freely.

I pulled my eyes away from her when I felt Hands watching me. Feeling bold, I let my eyes meet his. He looked faintly amused, and I knew he'd seen the whole thing. This was several days after he'd spanked me, and aside from our daily routine I'd had no additional dealings with him. I dropped my eyes quickly, wishing I hadn't been bold enough to look.

The other girls were settled on their rugs by now. Ume was one of the last to sit, and smiled sweetly at me when I sneaked a glance at her.

Usually we share space with at least one other handler and his group, but in here it was just our group. I haven't bothered to count how many of us there are exactly, although I know it's an even number - about 14. The intimacy of the space, the comfort, the freedom. If this was supposed to be a comfort to us, then why wasn't it introduced earlier? I had my suspicions, but all I could do was wait and see.

Shortly after, a woman, the first free woman we'd seen, took her place at the front of the tent. She was impossible not to notice, even if you weren't looking at first. It wasn't just her beauty - curves, amber eyes and glowing, caramel skin draped with jade silk and gold. Her presence, charisma, whatever you want to call it, seeped out of her pores and filled the room. She was impossible to ignore, even without the click of her fingers.

She was there to teach us yoga - breathing, simple poses, and then more complex as the afternoon wore on. Despite my aching joints after the morning's exercise hell, this was more comfortable for me as I'm naturally quite flexible. I forgot my reservations, focused on my breathing, and truly relaxed. The only thing to disturb my high was our Mistress patting the top of my head and chirping something I didn't understand. I looked to Hands for how I should respond,

"She says you're a good girl, little slave."

I dipped my head. "Thank you, Mistress."

I was not the only girl to receive praise of course - Duchess' grace made her stand out from the beginning. But I can't tell how good it felt being praised like that.

'Good girl.' In my previous life, it was something that had only been said to me when I'd scribbled in my colouring book with crayons. But it took on a whole new meaning here - it made me glow.

The incense, the heat, and the glow that only exercise can give you, left me with on a high for the rest of the evening. Once it was time to shower, I realised cooling off was exactly what I needed, but it was not to be. We followed our usual routine, but when we reached the showers, Hands stopped us, and unleashed Ume. He gave her a quick instruction in what I assume was Japanese, and pushed her towards me.

"Her shower is broken. Make room, slut."

Ume's fearful eyes were all I needed to make room for her, but this was not how I'd imagined it. This was so on brand for the type of man that he is - trivialising female intimacy as just another way to satisfy himself. There really was no room to move without touching, let alone wash ourselves.

"Hurry, slave. Quicker if you wash her."

Hands sounded like he was enjoying himself, the pig. But I had to obey - I didn't want either of us to be punished for my defiance.

When I reached for the soap, I caught Ume's eye, and I could see she'd understood. I kept my eyes down praying that my expression was unreadable as I gently soaped over her breasts, trying to ignore the fact that her nipples were hard. As I made my way down her body, biting my lip hard as I reached her hips, I couldn't help but delight in running my fingers over the delicate flower inked there.

Her audible gasp, and the jeers of the handlers brought my back to my senses. Blushing furiously, I ran my soapy hands over her ass, then down to her thighs and between her legs.

My face was on fire by the time I straightened up, and then I just about burst into flames when I realised she would now have to do the same for me. My eyes always give me away, so I clamped them shut, although in hindsight this may have been a mistake. My focus was clearer for other things, like how good her fingers felt as they washed around the leather collar on my neck.

Or how tiny her hands felt against my tits, and how my knees felt like they were going to give out when she ran her palms over my nipples.

How I had to resist reaching out and grabbing her hair once she was level with my stomach, so I could pull her closer.

Or finally, how I almost jumped out of my skin when her fingers brushed between my thighs and against my clit as she washed me.

I knew I couldn't keep my eyes shut any longer as I felt her straighten up. I was burning with anger, embarrassment and desire, but all I could do was give her an awkward nod, then plunge my head under the water in a last, desperate attempt to cool myself down.

I was glad to avoid eye contact with Hands, keeping them fixed firmly to the floor, but he made it impossible as he clipped on my leash.

"Chin up, little slave."

His eyes grew more amused as he saw my obvious anger, but he said nothing. I foolishly thought I was off the hook once I was locked in my cage for the night, and tried to relax.

My body ached with need, and so sleep defied me as I tried desperately not to imagine anything that would make me worse. This wasn't helped by how restless Ume was, just a foot away from me. Close enough that I could smell a trace of the oil she'd doused herself in, but so far away. Torture.

I don't know how long I'd tossed and turned for before a handler I didn't recognise was unlocking my cage, and clipping a leash to my neck. I could see Ume's worried eyes shining in the dim light as I was led away, so I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

The route was familiar to me, but I didn't need it to be to know where I was going. I kept my eyes a little higher this time, so I could have a better view of the handlers quarters.

A long, gleaming, dark wood table filled the centre of the room, with food piled high in the middle.

Two handlers sat at one end, sharing a shisha pipe. Their conversation paused as we approached, and one of them reached out and slapped my ass as I passed.

Aside from the main space, dozens of little alcoves lined each side of the tent, most occupied by handlers either sleeping or fucking. The slave girls had the dark hair, caramel skin and exotic beauty that I recognised as a trademark of the local area. I, quite literally, paled in comparison.

The tent connecting Hands' quarters to the rest was longer than I'd realised previously, affording him some privacy. I was a little surprised to see one of the local girls waiting for me, as the unknown handler unleashed me and melted away into the darkness. Hands didn't bother looking up from the table, and through a mouthful of food, barked a command at the other girl.

She was there to give me a lesson in how to serve him - how he liked his drinks fixed, his uniform hung for the following day, that type of thing. It was a short lesson, and I was soon alone with him again.

"My drink, slave."

I prepared his drink the way the previous girl had shown me, and cleared the remains of his meal whilst he nursed his glass in silence.

"Is the bath ready? You may speak."

"Yes, Master."

After the last dishes were cleared, he caught my wrist as I passed him, and pulled me closer until I was stood between his knees. Despite him being seated, he was far taller than I was, and so much broader. I kept my eyes down, and found myself admiring his large, strong hands.

"You have permission to look, unless I say otherwise. Now, be a good little slut and undress me."

His top half was the easiest, although meeting his amused eyes was harder. I tried to focus on unfastening buttons and ties, rather than look him in the face. Once he was topless, I couldn't help noticing the broad chest covered in dark hair, and the strong arms that were maybe even a bit better in reality than the ones I'd previously imagined.

From the waist down, I was relieved it was a single layer of clothing. I removed it in one quick motion, desperately ignoring his cock, which was now dangerously close to my face. My fingers fumbled with the straps of his sandals, but finally he was undressed.

"All done, Master."

I rose quickly and busied myself with hanging up his clothes, and looking anywhere but at him. I heard a sigh of contentment as he lowered himself into the water, but my anxiety was only slightly relieved as I felt him looking at me.

"Come here, little slave. I'd like you to wash my hair."

There was more than a tinge of amusement to his tone, clearly entertained by my discomfort.

I took my place behind him, and used a jug of water to wet his hair. As I lathered in the shampoo, massaging his neck and scalp with my fingers, I felt him relax at my touch.

Once the suds were rinsed away, I began to smooth the oil in and begrudgingly admitted to myself that he had really nice hair. Thick, black and wavy, it fell to his shoulders but was still soft, despite the arid climate. I used the last of the oil to massage his neck and scalp, and was rewarded with another sigh of contentment.

"Good girl. Now, I want you to wash me."

I knew that this would come, but had hoped we could somehow avoid it. That said, I knew better than to resist. I was grateful to be still out of sight whilst I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and prepared myself.

"Yes, Master. Where would you like me to start?"

"Well, you joining me would be easiest, no?"

No, no, no, no - that I had not expected.

"Yes, Master."

I had to use a small step to get in, which I'm sure he found funny too. I had the taps behind me, I was crouching in the most awkward position imaginable, and I still couldn't avoid his feet brushing against my legs.

"Why so shy all of a sudden, little one? How do you plan on washing me like that? Come closer."

I inched closer, awkwardly, and the moment I was within his reach he grabbed my hips and pulled me forward, until I was straddling his lap, my knees pressing against his thighs and my hands on his chest. It was impossible to ignore his hardening cock now it was between my thighs, and when he spoke again, I was pleased he was almost as breathless as I was..

"Now isn't that better, slut? Much easier to wash me."'

"Yes, Master."

I'd made no attempt to start washing him, and he seemed in no hurry for me to start. We stared into each other's eyes, with me fighting the urge to relax my thighs so I was just a little lower...

Being the control freak that he is, he couldn't resist pushing my buttons some more.

"Is there something that you'd like from me, little one?"

I feigned ignorance.

"I'm sorry, Master. I'm not sure I understand."

I grabbed the washcloth and soap, and began lathering it into his chest until he stopped me.

"No cloth. Hands only."

Of course. I began to rub the soap into his chest, running my fingertips lightly upward towards his neck. I couldn't look him in the eye so I stared hard at my hands instead. His cock pressed harder still between my thighs as I traced my fingers up his neck to his jawline, brushing against the sharp bristles of his beard.

I was suddenly acutely aware of his hand on my hip as he began to stroke it lazily. His other hand was now in my hair, brushing wavy, chestnut strands away from my face, and exposing my chest and neck further.

"I'll ask you again - is there something that you'd like me to give you, little slave?"

It was torturous and it took everything I had not to beg him to fuck me, or better yet, just relax onto his cock. It would've been so easy.

"Y-yes, Master. There is."

"Ask away, slut."

"Where did you learn to speak Japanese, Master?"

He snorted in amusement, as his thumb began to caress my thigh, and he dragged his fingers from my hair to stroke up and down my neck. My hands were travelling further down his ribs, and I enjoyed the hitch in his breathing when I dug my nails in lightly.

"Before I began to train whores like yourself, I travelled far and wide to procure them. I was especially talented at finding the most valuable goods, and my natural ability for learning one's native tongue meant I was especially successful at gaining their trust. When my feet grew weary, I began training the goods instead to ensure they sold for the highest possible value."

He lifted his hips suddenly and smirked at my reaction as the tip of his cock found its way inside me. My willpower had all but given out when he suddenly pulled away from me.

"I hope your curiosity was worth it, slut. Now put that slave mouth to good use, and please me."

All I'd had to do was tell him what I really wanted. He still ended this sated, whilst I burned with desire. This was no victory.

"Yes, Master."

When he didn't move, I realised that I was expected to please him with my face partially submerged. This proved to be an interesting experience. .

I began by playing with the tip of his cock with my tongue, teasing it lightly, and stroking the base of it with my thumb. His hand soon found the back of my head and grabbed a fist of my hair, whilst encouraging me down a little further each time. Soon my face was touching the water, and after one deep breath, there was too much pressure from his hand to lift my head.

I knew I wasn't in danger. Had he not just referred to slaves as valuable goods? Surely there would be consequences for causing something to happen to me? My mind wandered back to others who had disappeared. I was out of breath, beginning to panic, and all of a sudden he yanked my head up.

"We need to work on that breath control, no?"

He laughed at the hateful look I gave him, whilst I gasped for air. Then he hopped out of the tub, and leant against the edge, coaxing me closer.

"On your knees again, slut. You can finish me here."

I took his full length into my mouth then, all the way into the back of my throat. He was soon moaning out encouragement in Arabic, and I like to think he regretted the time he wasted trying to drown me, but I could be wrong.

Then both his hands were in my hair so he could thrust into my mouth harder, one of my hands on his firm ass and the other stroking gently between his legs. I got that heady feeling of delight that you can only get from knowing you've truly pleased someone, and I couldn't help but moan against his cock. That was more than enough to tip him over the edge when he was already so close, and I kept stroking and sucking until I'd swallowed every drop.

He had to use one of his hands to hold himself up, but the other was still in my hair, and then stroking my face as he told me over and over what a good girl I was.

I like to think I won that round in the end.