Sausages for the Slave Ch. 12

Dan was hard now. She was looking directly at him, her lips curled in a sneer. He knew when she did that, that he was about to feel the sting of a whip across his shoulders. Her sergeant, or corporal, or whatever, patrolled up and down the centre aisle between the line of galley slaves. Sometimes she was completely naked save for a roman helmet and her whip. She had a Phoenician look; dark hair, a long straight nose and piercing brown eyes. She sported a luscious bush of curly black pubic hair, from which she regularly pissed a strong stream of warm piss over her galley slaves. They daren't try to duck out of its way. Just take it, splashing over their heads and shoulders, running down their faces sometimes. Her role seemed to be to remind the slaves of their powerlessness. She whipped at random. They all got to feel the sting of her lash. They had to keep rowing. Alexa upped the rate. Ramming speed now; thump.. thump.. thump.. thump.. thump. That meant Dan was into the last ten minutes of the session. He could do it.

In the end of each stroke, when Dan would have slid fully forward, his knees bend up to his chest, the slider seat would hit the stop, sending the dildo thumping against his prostate, and a drop of pre-cum would ooze out of Dan, the galley slave's, throbbing cock, in full view of the drum beating lady, who smiled contemptuously at his helpless arousal. On the reverse stroke, as he stretched back, legs straight out in front, the dildo pressed hard up into him, a constant reminder of his stuffed state. Forced to suffer a daily arse fucking at the hands of his owners, for as long as they liked. On the next forward stroke another, bigger, spurt of precum oozed out.

The inevitable happened once. It was towards the end of one such pleasurable rowing fantasy. Dan came involuntarily when the Phoenician whip lady pissed directly in his face. As he spurted cum over the rowing machine, Dan's rowing rhythm was shot to pieces. Alexa launched into confused paroxysms of dildo shocks, as she tried to get Dan back on stroke, which only made things worse. Immediately the iPad on the wall of the slave quarters lit up. Mary's face came on the screen just as Dan's convulsive thrusts were subsiding.

'Well Dan. My phone lit up with all sorts of alerts. I thought you might be having a heart attack. Had a little accident, I see?'

'Sorry, Madam.'

'Enjoying your rowing exercise a little too much, maybe?'

'Yes, Madam... I mean, no Madam. I'm really sorry, Madam.' Dan knew it was time to turn on the humble apologies tap full blast. But too late.

'You will be sorry, alright. That will be three hours in the T-Bar for you. I'm dining out this evening. Alexa can decide the punishment. I've registered it as a grave misdemeanour. I'll release you when I get home. I'll enjoy seeing the state of your ass after Alex had dealt with you.' The screen went blank. Dan's feet were promptly released from the rowing machine foot pedals by Mary springing the ankle cuffs open using her phone.

'Yes, Madam,' replied Dan humbly to the now blank tablet screen.

Dan wearily eased himself up off the seat and its attached dildo, his anus muscles still giving a few post-coital spasmodic twitches, still gripping at the rubber sides of the dildo as he carefully slid his ass free. He noticed that, sadly for him, the LED beside the slit under the T- bar now glowed red and was flashing. This LED was an enhancement, or, to be more accurate, a refinement, of the punishment afforded by the T-bar. It was another of Mary's IT-type improvements. As well as now being able to open the T-bar cuffs remotely Mary thought it was a good idea to have an LED light that was always on, indicating that the T-Bar was ready for action. A constant reminder to the slave that he could suffer punishment at any moment. A reminder to be good, dutiful and obedient at all times.

There was a colour code. The LED was normally green. That was the basic setting. If Dan had to place himself in the T-bar when the LED was green, then the good news was that Alexa's automatic whip was not going to snake out from the slot under the T-bar and give his ass an automated thrashing. It would just be a simple confinement, though it might last many hours. When the LED was showing yellow, orange or red, it indicated a whipping would be applied and the colour indicated the amount of whipping Alexa would administer. Seeing the LED upped the anticipation for the slave. Heightened the experience, you could say.

The LED went into flash mode as soon as the slave was advised he was to go into the T-Bar, be it by Alexa or Mary. When the LED light started flashing, Dan had 30 seconds to get himself into position with his arms locked behind him in the T-bar. The main idea was to prevent Dan dilly dallying and delaying his punishment. It also stopped him grabbing some food, or a drink, or using the toilet before locking himself into the T-bar.

Following his slave galley mishap, Dan had duly bent over, raising his arms behind him and reversed into the T-bar. As soon as his wrists clipped into the cuffs of the T-bar, it triggered Alexa's punishment announcement.

'The slave's transgression has been rated grave. The punishment is set at sixty strokes, to be administered at half hour intervals over the three hour duration of the slave's confinement. The first ten strokes will commence...'

Dan braced himself, tensing his buttocks taut and firm to take the first sharp slash of Alexa's whip. He lifted himself up on his toes to take the first ten strokes on the top of his thighs. That way he could gradually lower his ass so as to present fresh undamaged skin for each successive round of punishment. He knew from experience that getting whipped on already whipped flesh was doubly painful. '

... in approximately thirty minutes.'

Dan hated the deferred punishment thing. Even as he unclenched his buttocks and tried to think happy thoughts, he knew that the next thirty minutes of waiting were going to seem like the whole three hours. He also knew he would have lost track of the time so that the first sudden lash of Alexa's whip would catch his ass unaware, relaxed and flabby. It would score him deeply and painfully. Worse, it leave him liable to being whipped painfully in the same spot at some stage over the next three hours.

And so it proved. After three hours in which he received six carefully spaced out machine administered whippings, Dan was not a happy man, and yes, he had pee'd on the floor at some stage to add to his misery. When Mary came home and released him later that evening, she took pleasure in her slave's sorry condition. His red eyes told her that the experience had moved him to tears. Ha! And, in her view, rightly so. After all control of a slave's cock, and specifically, control of its emissions, was was fundamental to enslavement, as she saw it. Key to the whole sex slave thing. Which was what Dan had signed up for; to be a controlled slave, especially as regards sexual activity. So it was important, she felt, to remind Dan the slave, in no uncertain terms, the importance she placed on his enforced chastity.

Mary had Dan clean up himself and his mess before she ordered him join her in the front room. There she had him make her a cocktail and then kneel between her legs and lick her to a satisfyingly gentle orgasm while she sipped her cocktail and admired the parallel vivid red weals on his buttocks, stretching from his upper thighs to the small of his back. She sent him to bed, happy that her slave had been appropriately humbled and brought into line -- all without her having to lift a finger.

But that lapse aside, Dan made good progress on the fitness regime. The flab melted away, his legs, arms and abdomen grew taut and toned. He felt quite proud of the tidy figure he cut as he waited, naked and tied to the foot of Sophia's staircase. Even the heavy bicycle lock around his neck seemed right. Bit of an African slave being transported to the colonies thing about it. A Kunta Kinte moment; the heavy steel collar, a punishment collar for the runaway slave as he awaited the arrival of his cruel whip wielding master to repossess him. Dan's dick stiffened some more at that thought and a drop of precum glistened at the tip. Then a shadow crossed the small stained glass window in the front door and the doorbell sounded. Dan froze. He half hoped it wasn't Mary, but being seen naked and shackled at the foot of Sophia's stairs by some local wouldn't be much better. Ruin his image of being just another American in Paris. In his heart he knew that his dream of freedom was probably dead. As if to confirm it, Sophia brushed passed him in the narrow hall, like he wasn't there, and opened the front door wide.

'You must be Mary. Do come in.'

Dan looked sheepishly at Mary, his wife and owner, as she stepped up and into the hallway. After shaking hands with Sophia, Mary turned and looked Dan up and down.

'Well, well. What have we here? The runaway slave? She reached under Dan's balls and lifted them before squeezing and kneading them hard.' Not going anywhere fast now are we, Slave?' as she kept kneading his balls.

'Ouch! No. Madam. It just happened. Uuuh....Spur of the moment thing. AggghI..I'm v..very sorry, Madam. Ooooww!

'I suspect you will be.' She let Dan's sore balls drop free and turned towards Sophia. 'We have some business to finalise, yes?'

'Indeed,' said Sophia 'Come this way,' indicating the door into the living room.

'Just a moment, if you would,' said Mary, rooting in her bag. She produced the big pink ball gag that Dan knew well. She asked Sophia if it was okay to gag the slave. Said she didn't want him getting emotional and trying to make any maudlin speeches.

'Good idea,' replied Sophia. Mary had Dan open wide and quickly pulled the pink ball gag tight in behind his teeth.

The women didn't bother closing the door on Dan. Clearly, whether Dan overheard their business or not was of no account as far as they were concerned. Mary reached inside her tote bag and produced a document.

'This is a standard deed of sale. I've already signed it and had it witnessed. I've added a clause giving me first option on buying back the property should you chose to sell the slave at a later date. Everything else is standard. I've a copy for me. I don't want to rush you, but I have to get back to a meeting. Have a look at it.'

Don't worry, I won't keep you,' said Sophia, quickly glancing down through the short document. 'All seems in order and as we agreed. We have a deal.' They shook hands and Sophia handed Mary a bulging brown envelope. 'Here's the balance due on completion of the transfer. Cash as agreed. I'll just get you the other stuff.'

Cash! Dan realised only then what was happening before his eyes. He was being bought. He couldn't believe it. Sophia had just handed Mary a bundle of cash in exchange for him! He had been bought by this Sophia person! Like she was buying a packet of cornflakes. He had just been sold by his wife. Sold!! Like a slave in the markets of ancient Rome. Felt that nervous twitch of his anus. Felt a threatened dribble of pee. Had to press his knees together, till the moment of panic passed. His first thought was they can't do that. This does not happen in real life. Not in Paris, anyway. Not anywhere this side of the Middle East probably.

But it had just happened. He saw it. Cash on Delivery! And he was definitely delivered now. Delivered safely into the control of Sophia, the buyer. Dan felt that terrible sinking feeling goes with the realisation that he was the only one not getting it all along. Dumb old Dan, the only one not to figure out the obvious. Slaves get bought and sold. He knew it was provided for under a clause in the original contract, and that he willingly signed that contract, and his signature was witnessed. Probably videoed on Mary's camera for the record. But who thought any of that stuff was real.

Then another thought struck Dan. 'Balance due on completion' meant there had to have been an earlier payment, a down payment when the deal was agreed and the balance to be paid when Dan was delivered to the new owner. Dan couldn't help feeling how stupid he was to not to even suspect that it might all have been a set up. That he had been sold before he ever got on the plane. Mary must have put an advert up on some kinky online slave exchange, or whatever way slaves are sold these days. He could see the advert; white male, forty, good condition, trim toned body, trained science teacher, good housekeeping, gardening and cooking skills, easy to manage, responds well to discipline. He started to get a hard on again at the thought of being advertised for sale like that.

Or, maybe it was the other way round. Sophia had seemed unusually comfortable around the slave thing once Dan brought the subject up. Didn't freak out when he said he was a slave. Didn't act like as newbie slave owner once she had him under control. Maybe Sophia had advertised for a slave who was a science teacher, or science graduate at least, and Mary saw it in the 'slaves wanted' listings. That would mean she had already been looking to sell him on. He felt betrayed by his wife now. After all she was still his wife really, as far as Dan was concerned.

The thought of how easily he was played by Sophia on the flight over made Dan feel almost ill. That he actually believed it was he who convinced Sophia to take him on as a teacher. How stupid. That he begged to be locked into her basement. Stupefyingly stupid! That he actually suggested tying himself up. The ultimate stupidity! He found himself struggling against his bonds without realising it. It was more out of frustration with himself than any serious effort at getting free. How they had played him for a fool. How dim and trusting he must seem to Sophia. Mortifying! He was glad he was gagged. He would have howled at his own idiocy if he could.

Just to convince himself, Dan mentally repeated the new reality. I have just witnessed myself being bought and sold. I'm a commodity now. He had that 'Toto, I feel we are not in Kansas anymore' moment. This indeed was a totally different country from the make believe slavery back home. Sure, he thought to himself, Mary used to own me -- in a pretend sort of way. But I could have walked out the door anytime -- aside from the prisoner bit -- and started over. But now this lady has actually paid cash for me and does seem to believe she now owns me -- in a real sort of way. She really believes I am hers to do with as she wishes. Probably feels entitled to do with me what she wishes, whatever she wishes. His cock stiffened and twitched upright at the thought. Dan didn't care if the two women saw it. He knew now that his existence was not part of their existence. It was a bit like he was back in his pig suit. They just didn't see him as him as Dan Murnaghan, anymore. He was a thing that got bought and sold.

Sophia was handing over a bulky bag to Mary. He watched keenly, eager to follow exactly what was going on. After all, this was his life changing before his eyes. And these two women were the ones changing it.

'The clothes, sneakers and passport are in here. The shirt is damp. It's in a separate plastic bag. Best you take them all. I don't want our runaway thinking they are in the house, in case he might be tempted to run again.'

Dan wished she wouldn't keep going on about the 'runaway' aspect of the event. She led him on after all. She was an accessory, he decided.

Mary took the bag and rooted in her own tote. 'I'm going to give you some stuff that I used to have the slave wear. I won't be needing them in Dubai.'

Dan saw Mary pull out his collar, wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs. She placed them on the coffee table. 'These are good quality. I had them made especially and they fit nicely. The collar and cuffs snap shut, and this little key is for opening them. I kept him collared and cuffed most of the time.'

So this is the aftersales service decided Dan. Giving the buyer a few freebies to make them feel better after they had handed over a wadge of dosh. Must be Mary in her marketing mode he thought. It's a wonder she didn't give Sophia a free pen with 'slavers united' on it.

While reassuring the new buyer that she had made a good purchase, Mary stuffed Dan's nice new chinos, his wet shirt and his cool new sneakers into her tote bag, followed by his passport.

'He shouldn't give you much trouble. He eats anything and is fairly well trained in housework and basic cooking. As you might expect with the male of the species, a little discipline is required now and then to keep him up to standard.'

'I don't expect he'll give me much trouble,' replied Sophia quickly and confidently. 'He seems fairly docile. Besides I like to dish out a bit of discipline as a matter of course. Just to remind them who is boss.'

'Good for you. Now I must be off. Duty calls. Pleasure doing business and all that,' said Mary, waggling the brown envelope before stuffing in her bag.

'Work him hard and you will get a good return on your outlay. And do let me know if, in the future, you decide to sell him on, I might make a bid, just for old times' sake.' That was Mary's parting remark, as she walked past Dan. Maybe said it for his sake. She gave him a light slap on the rump, familiar-like, maybe even a little affectionate. Making his stiff cock wobble. Mary ignored it. And Sophia ignored it, as she opened the front door to allow Mary out. Dan saw Mary walk out into the early Paris evening without a backward glance at her former husband standing naked, tied, and tumescent behind her at the foot of the stairs.

'Bye, Mary,' whispered Dan to himself as the door slammed shut, thinking bye, bye my wife, bye bye my old life, bye bye the whole works. One tear did trickle down his cheek, and he had a lump in his throat as his wife's brisk footsteps faded into the distance. Just as well that he was gagged really, he thought. Stop him making a right fool of himself.

Sophia moved past him, back into the front room, and closed the door without looking at him. Dan thought, what now? What the hell now? All the 'let's play at slave' stuff was history now. He was tied and naked in the house of a women he didn't know from Adam. And she firmly believed she owned him. She had paid good money for him, had a bill of sale. Expects to get her money's worth too, no doubt. And she likes to dish out discipline, Dan gave an involuntary shivered as his new reality sank in. Alone in a foreign country, tied up, no clothes, no passport. No name even. He had noticed that Sophia had stopped calling him Dan quite a while back and started calling him 'Slave.' Had he no name anymore?

Suddenly it came to him, while on the subject of names, that Sophia might not really be a Sophia. It might just have been a made up name while she entrapped him with her job offer. He recalled that Mary had not called her Sophia, or any name for that matter. Maybe they agreed it between them. Keep the slave in the dark. Either way, Dan knew that he would be calling her Madam from now on. He'd probably never find out her real name. And she wasn't interested in his. The whole grand aunt story might be totally made up for that matter.

Just then Sophia returned to the hall holding a riding crop. She flexed it between her hands while looking evenly at Dan, a little smile playing around her mouth. Dan could smell her shampoo as she stood close to him. She reached up behind his head and removed the gag from Dan's mouth. She stepped back and looked directly at Dan again.

'You are my slave now. You do not look at me. Look at the ground. Now! Look down at my feet always, unless I tell you to look elsewhere.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

Sophia took a quick swipe with the whip at Dan's semi-shrunken penis, an up from under shot. The rectangular leather tab at the end of the crop connected sharply with the exposed pink knob, causing Dan to flinch and gasp.