Sold In To Slavery Pt. 03

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Comments are always welcome, but please read this disclaimer. This story is about the non-consensual degradation and abuse of a mother and daughter who are captured and sold in to slavery. It contains heavy non-consensual BDSM and non-consensual sex and incest. This is fiction, not reality. It goes without saying that none of this depravity should ever happened in real life, but if it did it might look a little like this...

*****

The man known as "The Collector" stood in the well-lighted cell smoking a post-coital cigarette. Between puffs he squinted down through the smoke at the middle-aged professor who was enthusiastically cleaning his cock with her mouth. She remained on all fours following the first ass-fucking of her life. Her nineteen year-old daughter was noisily sucking out the older woman's asshole, desperately trying to slurp up all the cum the man had just deposited there.

Both slaves had been captured the previous evening in California, then spirited across the Mexican border to his safe-house. This was their first full day in captivity. They were being sold as a matched pair to a lesbian dominatrix and entrepreneur in Thailand named Mistress Mali, who enjoyed using western mothers and daughters together.

The corpulent Asian mistress used her slaves for her own sexual fulfillment, but also put them to work in her many brothels. Sex tourists paid dollar to party with an attractive occidental mother and daughter. The mother-daughter slave pairs were also big draws during the live sex shows performed nightly in her private clubs.

In this case, the mother was a full professor of economics at one of the California state universities. Her name was Madeline Bennett. At forty-three, she was still a striking beauty. She had long, auburn hair, emerald green eyes and a generous mouth. Her body, for a woman of her age, was nothing short of spectacular, with large, firm breasts, a flat stomach and a perfectly shaped ass. Her legs were taught and well-muscled from her daily runs on the beach.

The daughter, Summer, was a sophomore at the university where her mother taught. In looks, she was a younger version of her mother. They had the same exact eye and hair coloring and almost the same facial features. The two were often mistaken for sisters. Summer's body had filled out a bit more than her mom's. Her breasts and hips were fuller, but her waist remained narrow and her stomach flat. Summer was a natural athlete. Her legs were tanned and well-toned from her many hours each week of college field hockey practice.

The man looked at his watch.

"You have one minute left, sweetie," he said to the daughter mildly. "Remember, I want her cleaned out properly or I'm afraid it's time for your first cunt-whipping."

Summer grunted into her mom's ass, then redoubled her efforts. At the mention of the whip, her eyes widened in panic. Her breasts had been whipped earlier in the day. She could not imagine how the heavy braided leather tip would feel as it struck her exposed pussy.

Driven on by a fresh sense of urgency, Summer pulled both of her mother's ass cheeks apart and laved up and down the crack a dozen times, flattening her tongue against the quivering flesh. Then she repositioned her fingers to hold open the anus and dove in with her tongue, curling the tip to funnel the diminishing tide of semen directly into her mouth. Finally, she inserted her right index finger to the hilt and wiggled it around inside for a few seconds before slowly withdrawing it, scooping out a last few dollops of cum, which she quickly gobbled up.

The professor grunted periodically around the cock in her mouth, but remained still.

"Ten seconds," said the man.

Summer positioned her mouth over her mom's anus and clamped her lips around the rim, slurping and sucking loudly. The man was gratified to see the heavy muscles of the daughter's jaws working rhythmically as she desperately sought out the last dregs of his cum. She held this position until time ran out.

"Time," barked the man.

Summer pulled her face away and knelt back on her haunches.

The man pulled his cock out of the mother's mouth and casually wiped it dry on the middle-aged woman's hair. He stepped over to the daughter who remained cowering on her knees beside her mother's left hip.

The man reached down and spread the Madeline Bennett's ass cheeks apart with both hands. He carefully examined the anus and taint. Then he roughly inserted his right middle finger. The professor wobbled slightly, but did not shift her position.

The man withdrew his finger and studied it.

"Not bad, sugar pie," said the man after a few seconds. "Good job. No cunting for you today."

Summer let out an audible sigh of relief and looked up at the man expectantly.

The man reached down and held his soiled middle finger in front of the kneeling daughter's face. Without breaking eye contact, Summer took the proffered finger in her mouth and began to lick and suck it clean. The man let her suckle the finger for a full minute before pulling it out and wiping it dry on the teenager's face.

The man reached down and gently cupped the girls chin with his right hand, tilting her face upward until their eyes met.

Summer's eyes were red-rimmed from crying. Her hair was disheveled and matted against her forehead with sweat. Her lips and chin were smeared with semen, saliva and her mother's secretions.

"Did you clean out mommy's asshole like a good girl?" he asked gently.

"Um...yes, sir," responded the girl shakily.

"That was very nice of you, sweetie," said the man. "Now I think it's time for your mother to thank you properly. Why don't you go over and let her give you a big kiss. Right on the lips."

He grabbed the girl roughly by the hair and dragged her crawling over to her mother.

"Give her a nice thank-you kiss, Professor. Make it good. I want to see some tongue."

Madeline turned her head as her daughter approached and held the girl's eyes for a long moment. The daughter hesitated for only a few more seconds, then leaned in and kissed her mother on the lips. The professor kissed her back. She could taste the distinctive flavor of semen combined with her own juices on her daughter's lips. After a moment, both women began to explore each other's mouths with their tongues.

The man smiled down benignly.

"Oh, isn't that romantic? You're first kiss. You two kids are going to get to know each other in a whole new light this week," he chuckled.

The man let the kiss continue for another full minute.

"That's enough. Let's get you hosed off. You're both getting a little ripe," he said crinkling his nose. "Crawl this way, please, ladies."

He walked across the large cell to the bathroom area in the back, right corner. The two women followed on their hands and knees.

The professor noticed a stainless steel toilet with no seat beside a utilitarian white porcelain sink. A hand-held shower head was clipped to the wall attached to a long flexible hose. She looked down and noticed a large drain in the floor.

"Stand up please, ladies."

The two naked women rose wearily, holding on to each other for support. The man's right hand closed around the shower head and pulled it off its clip. Her turned the metal valve on the wall all the way to the left.

"No hot water, I'm afraid," said the man apologetically. "But you might as well get used to it. I don't think Mistress Mali even has running water in the slaves' quarters, although you will get to shower when you're being used in the brothels."

The mother and daughter exchanged panicky glances. Their situation just seemed to keep on getting worse.

The man tested the shower nozzle. A strong jet of water immediately shot out and hit the drain in the floor. He adjusted the mechanism to get a medium-sized spray.

"Assume the position, ladies. Both hands flat against the wall. Bend over and spread your legs," he shouted over the noise of the shower.

Both women immediately complied.

The man stepped back and began to systematically hose off the two women. Both slaves yelped at the first impact of the ice cold water. The man ignored their protests. It was obvious he had performed these ablutions dozens of times in the past.

Periodically, he issued curt commands.

"Arms down, arms up...lift your left leg, now the right... spread your ass cheeks... open those cunt lips wider..."

After the initial hose-off was completed, he turned off the nozzle and handed both shivering women small bars of soap.

"Soap yourselves down. I want to see a good lather."

The women did as they were told. When they were done, he hosed them both off again, then handed them both small bottles of shampoo. The women quickly lathered their hair, then stood still as the man rinsed them off.

"There, that's better," said the man with satisfaction as he turned off the water.

He handed each woman a large soft towel.

"Dry off, please," he said brusquely.

The women rubbed themselves down with their towels. When they were dry, they reflexively started to wrap the towels around themselves, but the man intervened, holding out both hands.

"Don't cover yourselves. Ever. Slaves remain naked at all times. No exceptions. Give me the towels," he said tersely, snapping his fingers.

Both women handed them over.

The man motioned toward the bed. "In the nightstand you will find a blow drier and an assortment of brushes and combs as well as make-up and other beauty supplies. I want you to make yourselves up like you're going to the prom. Don't worry so much about your hair. During your training, I want you both pulled back into ponytails."

The man paused and put his hands on his hips.

"Remember, your bodies now belong to Mistress Mali. It is your responsibility to take good care of your owner's property. This means paying close attention to your health and personal hygiene and making yourselves as attractive as possible at all times. If I find either one of you sloppy or unkempt, you will both be whipped."

He reached under the sink and came up two safety razors and a large can of gel shaving cream.

He gave each woman a razor and handed the can to the mother.

"Body hair is not permitted on slaves. When you arrive at the slave compound, all this hair will be permanently removed. In the meantime, you will both have to shave daily. Help each other out with your ass cracks and taints, please, and don't forget your cunt lips. If I find a single hair on either one of you, you both will be whipped."

The man walked over to the mini fridge and opened the door.

"There is water and sandwiches in the fridge," he said. "But you can eat and drink only after you have shaved and done your hair and make-up."

Both women eyed the mini fridge greedily. It had been almost a full day since either of them had eaten.

The man looked at his watch.

"I'm going to give you exactly one hour to eat and make yourselves presentable."

The man turned and walked toward the bars of the cell. He scooped up his clothes, but made no attempt to cover his nudity. He also collected the women's soiled clothing off the floor.

"You won't be needing these anymore," he chuckled.

He pushed for a beat, then walked unhurriedly over to the cage door. With his back turned to the women, he entered a four-digit code into a electronic key pad. The gate buzzed and swung open. The man quickly stepped outside and re-closed the door.

He turned back and regarded the two women with a look of what might have been pained empathy had he not already demonstrated that he was a psychopath.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in. Yesterday you were two regular people with hopes and dreams and now I'm telling you you've been sold as slaves to some random lesbian in Thailand."

The women just stood and stared at him.

The man deposited the clothes on a workbench along the left wall of the concrete anteroom, then turned and walked up to the cell, gripping the bars with both hands.

"It's only natural that you would require a period of adjustment. Don't feel bad if you don't get everything right on the first day. The whip is a very good motivator. You'll get it eventually," he said smiling.

The women blinked at him.

"Unfortunately, we do not have the luxury of time. I only have one week to break both of you in before we begin our journey to your new home."

He looked again at his watch, then struck a theatrical pose, holding up the index finger of his right hand, like an orator addressing a crowd. When he spoke, he made a flourish with his hand and over-emphasized each syllable, like a bad Shakespearean actor.

"You have exactly one hour to get yourselves ready physically and emotionally. Hold each other tight and have a good cry. Mourn your old lives, gnash your teeth and rail against the pitiless fate that has delivered you to me."

The man paused for effect, then his voice turned deadly serious.

"But when I come back down here, your training will officially begin. I expect to find you both fresh and ready to start your new lives. I will demand enthusiastic, absolute obedience. If you disappoint me in any way, you will be punished. Do we understand each other, ladies?"

"Yes, sir," both women whispered simultaneously.

"One other thing. This cell is under constant video surveillance," he said, pointing to two cameras mounted on the ceiling outside the cell bars.

He walked over to a gun metal steel desk and picked up a high end laptop.

"I review all the video every day. Please do not do anything in my absence that would displease me. That would include attempting to cover yourselves in any way. As I said, I keep my slaves naked and available for use at all times. No exceptions."

Both women nodded.

The man turned and walked over to a steel door set into the concrete wall on the far side of the room beyond the cell bars. It was unlocked. He pulled the heavy door open. The women could see a narrow corridor beyond illuminated by overhead fluorescent lights. There was what appeared to be a closed elevator door at the far end of the hall.

The man turned again to face his charges.

"You have one hour," he said sharply, then stepped out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

As soon as the heavy steel door closed, Summer ran up to her mother and hugged her fiercely, oblivious to their mutual nudity.

"Oh, God, Mom, this is not happening, right? I mean, he's crazy, right? He's got to be. There's no way it can be true. People don't buy and sell human beings anymore, right?" she asked desperately. The teenager was clearly on the verge of hysteria.

Madeline held her daughter closely for a full minute, gently stroking her hair and cooing into her ear, then she pushed her gently away and held her at arm's length.

"Summer, I think we have to assume that what he is saying is true," she said coolly. "I mean look at this place. This is not some drifter's hovel. This is a professional operation."

She paused for a few seconds to let the words sink in, then grabbed her daughter firmly by the shoulders.

"The important thing is we are both still alive and we're together," said the mother emphatically. "I'm sure your father and the police are already looking for us. Our job is to still be alive when they get here."

Summer freed herself from her mother's grip and hugged her again, burying her face in her hair. When she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper.

"He...he...whipped me, Mom, with a real whip like they use on horses. While you were still knocked out, he handcuffed my hands behind my back and whipped my...breasts for no reason. Then he raped me. Everywhere. I don't know if I can do this," she sobbed.

Her mom pushed her away again and held her tightly by the upper arms.

"Summer Anne Bennett!" shouted the mother sternly. "You listen to me, young lady. Nothing this monster does to us will change who we are. We will not give him the satisfaction. I simply will not allow it. He's a coward and a worm. He can do whatever he wants with our bodies, but he can't touch us here."

The mother put her hand over her own heart.

"I love you, Summer and I know that you love me. That's all that matters. We can get through this. All we have to do is keep him happy until somebody finds us or we get a chance to escape."

Summer looked at her mother open-mouthed. She was horrified.

"Keep him happy? Mom, are you crazy? He just made me suck his cum out of your fucking asshole! Didn't you hear what he's going to make us do next? He's going to force us to...be together...to have sex with each other. I can't do it. I just can't. I'd rather just end it all right now before he comes back. We could use the whip to make a noose..."

Madeline Bennett slapped her daughter's face with the flat of her right hand.

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare talk like that ever again," she shouted.

Summer held a hand to her stinging left cheek.

"I didn't raise you to surrender to a cretin like this man. I agree things are bad and they are going to get worse. We are going to have to do many distasteful things, you and I, but at the end of the day, we will still have our dignity because we will have our defiance."

"I don't know if I can do it," said Summer softly, looking away.

"Do it for me, Summer," said her mom softly. "I've already had a life. Yours is just beginning. I promise to get you out of this, but you need to give me some time. If I see a chance to trade my life for his, I will take it, but I have to know that you will not give up, that you will always try to survive. For me."

There was a long pause.

When Summer spoke again. There was a new edge to her voice.

"Let's fight him," she whispered harshly. "You and me. Next time he sticks his dick in one of our mouths, we bite it off. Then we both hold him down until he bleeds out like a stuck pig."

The mother paused. She was relieved that her daughter was back in the fight, but the older woman knew they had to be extremely careful.

"What about the locking mechanism, Summer? He said he changes the code every time he comes in. We'd be trapped in the cell with his dead body. We have water, but no food. We would starve. He said there wasn't a house within ten miles of this place."

"We can eat him," said the daughter calmly. "That would buy us some time."

Madeline looked her daughter in the eyes. She could tell the girl was being serious.

"Besides," Summer continued reasonably, "how do we know he isn't lying? You saw that elevator at the end of the hallway, right? We're obviously underground. We could be anywhere, even in a big city."

Madeline considered her daughter's words. The elevator was an intriguing development. Would someone install an elevator in a small house in the middle of some barren Mexican desert? Could it even be done? Her daughter had a point. They could very well already be located in a city or town. If they made enough noise, for a long enough period of time, somebody might find them.

Madeline sketched out the skeleton of a plan in her mind, then nodded to herself.

"Okay, Summer, let's make a decision right now. I think we can both agree that we are not going to be packed in a shipping container and sent off to Thailand, right?"

Summer nodded. "That's not going to happen."

Madeline continued. "He said he's keeping us here for one week. That means we have seven days to act. I say we string him along and study his patterns. We look for a way kill him without being trapped in the cell afterward. Maybe we can figure out the codes or something."

Summer nodded again. "Agreed."

Madeline took a deep breath. This was the hard part.

"But if the last day comes and we still can't find a way to kill him and get the cell door open, we kill him anyway and take our chances. I'll try to be the one who does it, but it might have to be you. Can you handle that? Can you do it?"