Sex Slave Ch. 01

He stepped forward onto nothingness and cried out as he felt himself falling. Unable to break his fall because his hands were still bound behind him, he managed to twist around and land shoulder first. His head slammed hard onto stone and his feet flew past his head. He would have continued to tumble down the stairs but was brought up short by the choke chain around his neck. It tightened abruptly and painfully, stopping his fall. The handlers, now behind him, yelled angrily.

His throat was crushed by the chain, which very effectively cut off his air supply. He opened his mouth and rasped. Panic slowly built in him; within moments his body insisted on immediate air. He tried to scream at his handlers, to beg them to help him, but he was incapable of making a sound. The handlers were laughing. He felt his body spasm in shock and darkness hovered close.

Just as his consciousness started to slip away, the handler loosened the chain. He sucked in a great gulp of air. Relief! He sat on the stairs gasping, his head pounding. His captors laughed and chattered back and forth at each other, no doubt at his expense.

Anger flared suddenly within him. "You fuckers!" he gasped out.

Immediately there was a foot in the middle his back, and he felt himself propelled down the stairs again. Once more he fell without opportunity to protect himself, and once more his fall was stopped by the chain at his neck. It wasn't as bad as the first time but bad enough. He was close to passing out again by the time they loosened the chain for him.

This time he sat docilely, panting while they jeered at him and goaded him. He couldn't understand what they were saying, but their tone was clear. He wasn't going to give them any more excuses to choke him. He stayed silent, head down, sucking air into his lungs.

It didn't take them long to decide that he was well enough to travel again. He lurched to his feet at their command and carefully felt his way down the rest of the stairs. They let him go slowly, perhaps tired of torturing him, perhaps in a hurry, not wanting to waste time waiting for him to recover from another fall.

After several minutes of walking, they came to a halt, and the handler in front carried on a conversation with someone. Presently Rees became aware that the two handlers who had chaperoned him thus far were leaving, and the control device was given over to a third handler. The thong was removed from his hands and he rubbed them together, fingers tingling as the blood flowed back into them. He could feel the indentations where the leather had bitten into his wrists.

The new handler took up a position behind him and, with a nudge from the pole, he began walking again. The handler seemed to have expert control over him even from the rear and propelled him along at a quick pace down another long maze of stone corridors.

He could hear no one around, and he thought that maybe this was the best chance he would get to attempt an escape. His chattering fear lent him the courage to try. As he started to reach a hand up to jerk the hood and choker off his head, he heard the unmistakable sound of a whip whistling through the air. He instinctively dodged and the very tip of the whip licked his hand, causing a sharp sting. At the same time, the chain bit into his throat. He could still breathe but just barely. He decided to cooperate a while longer.

He walked meekly then, focusing on getting enough air past the tight chain to keep from passing out. At length they entered a cavernous room. The click of the handler's boots on the stone floor echoed back to them from distant walls. The handler carefully guided him down a short set of stairs and to the left. Soon he was pulled to a halt. The handler forced him to his hands and knees with the pole. He heard a door open in front of him, and the handler pushed on the pole and said, "Move!"

Rees obediently crawled forward. He sensed rather than felt the doorway on either side of him as he passed through it. He was pulled to a halt, and a boot in the middle of his back forced him to lie flat on the cool floor. In a swift movement the choking hood was yanked from his head. By the time Rees turned toward the handler, squinting against the brightness, he saw only the heavy door swinging shut.

He stood up slowly and looked around. He was alone in a very strange room.

The smooth stone walls climbed about thirty feet but they didn't connect to a ceiling. There was a ceiling hundreds of feet overhead, and a bay of windows, high along distant walls, showed the last paleness of the evening sky. The room was shaped almost like a slice of pie, with a curved outer wall connecting to two angled walls. What would have been the center point of the pie piece was cut off by a fourth wall.

Looking up over the outer wall at the wide end of the room, he saw an iron railing beyond which were rows of seating. With a start, he realized that the room was in the center of an amphitheater.

A chill shivered down his limbs as his mind wrestled to subdue a thousand creepy scenarios with him as the evening's featured entertainment. The theater was vacant, but he took no comfort in presuming that nothing would happen until an audience had gathered.

He surveyed the room with an eye to either escaping or finding a weapon. The only piece of furniture in the room was a huge iron bed covered with a white-sheeted mattress. He grimly noted iron shackles attached to the four posts of the bed.

In the floor opposite the bed was a small, tiled pool filled with steaming water. A bar of soap sat on a folded towel on the floor next to the pool. Rees crossed to the bath and poked a toe into the warm water. It felt wonderful. Why would they want him clean, he wondered.

He noticed more shackles fastened along the right-hand wall. There were two sets of five. By their positions, he guessed two for arms, two for legs, spread-eagled, and one for holding the head or maybe the neck. He sucked in a sharp breath of air and let it out with a quiet hiss. His hands were shaking. He continued his search for escape with increased urgency.

Along the inside wall was a massive fireplace, clean and empty. A bucket sat in the corner. The only other feature in the room was the door he had come through, which was in the center of the outside wall nearest the audience. He crossed to the door and tried it, finding it to be securely locked, as expected.

Looking up at the impossibly smooth, high walls, he saw that there were torches held in iron brackets at regular intervals along the top of the walls, burning brightly. He was sure the whole room was quite visible to anyone in the audience.

His first investigation having shown no means of escape, he examined everything again in more detail. The fireplace flue was covered with an iron grating that refused to budge with his exertions but was still warm, indicating that a fire had only recently been put out. On either side of the fireplace were shelves built into the rock. At first he was puzzled, thinking the setup could be for baking bread, but then he realized he had seen iron racks of bricks at the bottom of the pool that would fit nicely into the shelves. The bath was obviously heated by hot bricks coming out of the fireplace.

He checked the door again. It was solid. The sturdy bed was bolted to the floor, and there was nothing under the mattress.

He tried for a time to knock a torch out of the wall by throwing the bucket, but the torches seemed to be fastened tightly, and after many tries, the only success he had was in hooking the bucket over one of the torches. After that he had no more bucket.

He paced around the room in frustration for a time and finally sat at the edge of the pool. The water was beginning to cool but still felt great. With a sigh he lowered himself into the bath. He knew he was expected to bathe, which almost made him decide not to, but the lure of being clean was too strong.

Once he finished thoroughly washing himself with the soap, he relaxed in the pool, sitting on a small shelf that had been built around its perimeter. He wished he could enjoy this unexpected luxury, but he was too scared. He sat for a long time with warm water lapping around his shoulders and dread occupying his thoughts. He tried to think of plausible reasons for the setup, reasons that didn't involve torture and rape in front of an audience, but he could think of nothing else.

Finally, when the water was no longer a comfortable temperature, he climbed out and toweled himself off, tying the towel around his waist. Having nothing else to do, he stewed for a long time, sometimes pacing, sometimes sitting.

He could not discover or imagine a way out. No one entered or left the amphitheater and the hours passed slowly. Eventually, in spite of his great dread, weariness overcame him and he sprawled out on the enormous bed and fell asleep.

#

He was awakened by the sound of the door slamming shut. He sat bolt upright, instantly recalling where he was. Terror tore at his chest. He jumped to his feet, battle ready, focusing his attention on the person who was standing by the door.

He saw immediately that she was a naked woman and she was terrified. He relaxed slightly and stared at her.

She was gorgeous. Long dark hair fell in shining waves to her waist, mostly covering her beautiful, firm breasts. She held delicate hands in front of herself, hiding her bush. Her huge, dark eyes were glorious but wide with fright. Her lips were full, her light brown skin smooth, and her legs long and slender.

She was young—two or three years younger than he was—eighteen he guessed. As he appraised her, he felt a rush of sexual excitement course through him. It had been months since he'd been with a woman, and here was one to rival the most beautiful he'd ever seen, standing naked before him.

His cock came quickly to full attention, causing the towel around his waist to tent out.

A small noise made him glance up into the audience. Yes, there was an audience now. The gentleman with the feathered hat and the high voice stood at the railing, watching him intently. He appeared to be alone. Rees suddenly understood some of the purpose of the room. He did not want to have sex in front of this man, but he knew at once that he probably did not have a choice. Clearly this man was a voyeur. Rees decided to ignore him and focused his attention once more on the girl.

He saw that tears were running down her cheeks. She edged along the wall until she was in the corner, never taking her frightened eyes off him.

His heart went out to her. "Don't be afraid," he spoke gently. "I won't hurt you."

She said a few words to him, her voice barely a whisper. He didn't understand what she said, but the language did not sound like Kreoley.

"Are you a Kreol?" he asked her. She did not look Kreol. He had never seen anyone with her looks, so dark and exotic.

She did not reply.

"My name is Rees," he said pointing to himself.

She clearly didn't understand his words and didn't answer, but her great eyes spoke volumes. She must have been recently torn away from family and friends, forced into slavery as was he. She was living a nightmare. He noticed she was trembling.

He wanted to help her, to take her in his arms and comfort her. He could not protect her, he realized. He was a slave also and subject to the control of others. Anger and frustration surged within him.

It occurred to him that she might feel better if she could cover up. As he approached her, she shrank into the corner. He noted that she was very tall for a woman, coming almost up to his shoulder. He stopped when he was still some feet away and spoke gently to her again. "I won't hurt you. I promise I won't touch you if you don't want me to."

She eyed him mutely, seemingly paralyzed with fear.

Without thinking about how she might react to his nakedness, he pulled the towel off his waist and moved forward to hand it to her. She let out a shriek, her eyes fixed on his huge, hard cock.

I'm such an idiot! Quickly he tossed the towel toward her, spun around, and took a few steps away.

"I'm sorry," he said over his shoulder, his voice husky. "I cannot help that. You are very beautiful and I am... very much attracted to you."

He stood quietly for several minutes before he dared to turn partially and look at her over his shoulder.

She had wrapped the towel around herself, and was hugging herself tightly. She was still wedged into the corner and her face was full of fear, but tears no longer flooded down her cheeks.

"That's better," he said. He squatted on the floor and turned sideways, so he could see and speak to her while concealing his private parts with his thigh and arm. She seemed to relax a little once he was no longer standing.

"Rees," he said, pointing to himself. He pointed at her.

"Arriene," she whispered, pointing to herself. Her voice had a musical lilt.

God, she was breathtaking!

He could not keep his eyes from wandering down her body. The towel barely covered her. He longed to run his hands up her long slender legs. Her skin was the color of coffee with cream, her hair a cascade of ebony, flowing over graceful shoulders. Her face was exquisitely beautiful, with an aquiline nose and strong chin. Her large dark eyes were intelligent and vulnerable at the same time.

He stayed where he was for some minutes and talked to her quietly even though she didn't speak Endoran. She calmed down and the trembling in her hands stilled. After some minutes she even gave him a tentative smile. Eventually his knees started to cramp and he had to stand up. She let out a whimper as he did so, her expressive eyes flickering back and forth from his fully aroused penis to his face.

He turned to face her, taking a few steps back. "I won't hurt you," he said, speaking softly and turning his palms upward. "Yes, I would obviously love to make love to you, but I won't if you don't want me to." He desperately wanted her. His balls ached with desire.

"Actually you will, whether she wants you to or not!" came a childish voice from the audience. Rees glanced up to see the wealthy man still standing at the railing. His eyes glittered with a cold excitement.

Arriene let out a small squeal of fear and started to cry again.

"Now see, you've upset her!" Rees said, irritation edging his voice.

The man at the railing raised his hand and Rees saw at once that he was holding a long, wicked whip. With a quick expert movement, the man caused the whip to snake toward Rees. Rees jumped back and the whip cracked sharply in the air an inch away from his bare chest. He could feel a small rush of wind tickle him where the lash might have landed. Fear flowed as heat through his body, leaving his chest on fire.

"That was just a warning. You will always address me as Master, and you will never use that tone with me," the man at the railing said calmly.

"Yes Master!" Rees replied immediately, using his most respectful tone.

"Kneel, slave!"

Rees lost no time in scrambling to his knees. He bowed his head as he'd seen other slaves do.

"What is your name, slave?"

"Rees, Master," Rees said without looking up.

"Rees." He said it quietly, almost menacingly and the hairs stood up on the back of Rees's neck. "The only reason you are not screaming in pain right now from the sting of my lash is because you are very new here. You don't even know who I am, do you?"

"No, Master."

"I am your owner and your master. I own this estate and all that is here. My name is Rim. You may call me Master, however, you are not to speak to me unless I ask you a question. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master." Rees had already guessed that this man was the owner of the estate, but hearing it confirmed brought an onslaught of memories of the stories he had heard about the man. He fought to banish the grisly visions and swallowed a bit of bile that came up in the back of his throat.

"Now bring the girl to the bed where I can see her better, and get on with it," Master Rim commanded.

"Yes sir, uh, Master," Rees responded. He climbed to his feet and approached the girl who was still trying to become one with the wall.

She started to whimper as he came close. He took her arm and pulled gently. She shrank away from him, repeating a foreign word over and again.

"Come please," he begged her, looking into her eyes. He pulled more firmly on her arm.

She turned away from him, hiding her face, and trying to brace herself in the corner.

"You don't have all day," the childish voice from the audience said. "I want her on the bed now! And take that towel away from her. I want to see her body."

Rage exploded within Rees. Couldn't he see how frightened she was? He glanced up at the madman. Of course, he can see, Rees realized. He doesn't care.

Rees caught sight again of the long whip in the man's hand, and fear quickly overcame his rage. He scooped the girl up in his arms. She was light and seemed fragile. She did not fight him but began to cry and plead, her beautiful face marred by distress. He spoke to her softly as he carried her over to the bed and laid her down carefully. Tugging gently on the corner of the towel, he whispered, "Master Rim says you need to give this up."

She grabbed his hand and begged him. She was close to hysteria, her dark eyes wide with terror. Sympathy overwhelmed him. He had never thought to force himself on a woman. His parents had instilled in him respect for all and gentleness with the fairer sex. In spite of his lust and his fear of Master Rim, he could not rape her. He left her the towel and stepped away from the bed, turning to face his master.

He was furious with this man but also terrified. He dropped to his knees and bowed his head.

"Slave! What is your problem?" Master Rim demanded.

Rees struggled to keep his tone contrite, respectful. "Master, I am very sorry. I cannot rape her."

"You are disobeying me?" His master's voice was incredulous. Rees risked a quick glance up at the man and saw his face darken with anger. His wild eyes burned into Rees with a consuming fury. Rees's insides froze. His rational mind screamed at him to prostrate himself, to throw himself down on the floor and beg forgiveness for his brief madness; he had no choice but to rape the girl. However, the part of his mind that was ruled by his emotions prevailed. He did nothing.

"Make love to her now!" Rim commanded.

Make love? Rees thought. There would be no love to it. It would be brutal rape.

He glanced at the girl on the bed. She was curled into a tight ball, her face hidden, shivering. A surge of anger burned brightly in him, momentarily overcoming his fear.

He looked up at Rim and simply said, "No!"

Rim's face lost its rage, becoming blank and emotionless, and somehow that was worse. He clapped his hands and a slave appeared at his side. Rim said something quietly to the skinny boy who immediately nodded and ran off.

Rees wondered if he'd just signed his own death warrant. His chest felt as if it were bound tightly with heavy straps, making it difficult to breathe. He held himself perfectly still and stared at the floor, waiting for his doom. Cold sweat trickled down his back.

Presently Rees heard the door open and his frozen insides turned into a puddle on the floor. He watched as three handlers entered. One of them carried the choking hood and the other two carried whips. Rees did not fight them and they hooded him efficiently, pulling tight on the choke chain, cutting off his air.

Dragging him to the wall with the shackles, they pushed his face roughly against the stone and pulled his arms out and up. Cold iron shackles were clamped around his wrists and ankles. The handler operating the choking hood jerked harder on the chain, and Rees gagged, his eyes watering with pain. By now he was completely out of air. He tossed his head and pulled against the chain in panic. The handler laughed and with a quick movement pulled the choking hood off his head.