Slavery - Full Circle

by Mark Andrews

  But I knew I had to be careful to ensure she thought I was using her body and her fingers to create the rapture I would simulate, for if she once thought I was using someone else’s body, then I would be in for the worst tortures she could devise for me - and if she worked out who my subject was, so would he.

  I was prepared by her two body slaves.

  The female was Thai and the male a Swede: Chandra and Bjorn, although she called them Doll-face and Horse-cock. Both were young - oh they were legal alright. A person could not be made a slave unless he was at least eighteen years old, but they looked younger. Doll-face was slender, indeed doll-like and utterly beautiful. Her body was exquisitely moulded but firm and athletic.

  His was tall and muscular but also quite perfect in its clean-cut definition and symmetry. He was of course blond with violet-blue eyes while she was dark. They made a perfect pair.

  They came for me in the kitchens where, at seven in the evening I was still toiling non-stop. Hobbs brought them in to where I was working, released me from my toil and then bade me follow them up to Madeleine’s suite, also ordering them not to speak to me, except in the process of their preparation of my body for the mistress’ later enjoyment.

  I didn’t try to talk to them, either, sure there would be the most sophisticated surveillance system in the world operating all over that vast house and not wishing to drop them (or myself) in it this early in my time there.

  That didn’t stop us smiling at one another and I sensed this pair of beautiful young people loved one another very much. I wondered (briefly) if Madeleine knew about their love and if so whether she permitted it or punished them for it. Knowing her, probably the latter, I thought.

  But they knew their stuff when it came to bathing and oiling my body. First the wonderful soaking in the ultra-hot bath while they kneaded and rubbed my tired muscles, working the kinks and aches right out of them. Then the tepid bath and finally the icy shower under the needle sprays that brought me back to life once more.

  After that it was more oils and rubbing interspersed with brisk towelling and finally the application of an ultra-light, fragrant oil which they rubbed in deep with their fingers but didn’t towel off afterwards. This left me with a tingling feeling all over my body but especially down at my sex and I realised it must have aphrodisiacal ingredients for I now ached for her body.

  No, I haven’t misprinted that word. It was her body I wanted, not Big Balls’ or Horse-cock’s (which I had lusted after while the pair of them had treated me to the best bath and massage I could ever have dreamed of).

  I pinched myself. How could this be? Had she somehow hypnotised me into a desire for her admittedly beautiful body? I started to think of Big Balls but then quickly desisted. I had no idea why I was now lusting after her but why not take advantage of it? If I could use this weird desire to get through this evening and perhaps even enjoy it, it would make life a lot easier there, wouldn’t it?

  This wonderful bath and massage took an hour so it was eight o’clock when they finally finished with my body then drew me into her bedroom.

  “Now,” said Horse-cock, that wonderful smile he had spread right across his handsome face, “you must kneel in the centre of the floor, just here, facing the door. Spread your knees as wide as you can get them, then reach back with your hands to grasp your ankles.” I did so. “Now tilt your head right back so that you are looking up at the ceiling. Open your mouth and poke your tongue out as far as you can get it.’

  I did this, too and then he went on: “You must remain like that until the mistress arrives and releases you from the position. It is called Subjection and is only one of dozens of positions you will learn if you are chosen to serve her body or even if you are made a simple domestic slave. The outdoor staff don’t learn them but I doubt if you will sink that low. Our work here is hard and long, but theirs is diabolical. But no, with your body and looks, I am sure you will end up in here with us as body slaves. But remember, instant obedience, dedication and perfection in performance is the minimum she demands, no matter what position she finally assigns you to.”

  I thanked him, now resting my knees in the position he had indicated and tried to hold the pose. It wasn’t easy. Try it yourself and see how long you last before your body starts to ache. But there I stayed. I knew she would be testing me and although I hadn’t yet detected them, I was sure there would be cameras following my every movement and, no doubt, she would be watching them, ready to pounce the moment I felt an itch or an ache and moved to quench them.

  It was hard, diabolically hard. I imagine the officers and men of the brigade of guards would know what I was going through for they are trained to stand immovable for hours at a time no matter what provocation is presented to them, but I can’t think of any other calling that demands a similar dedication.

  I managed it, but only by thinking single-mindedly of the one thing: stay still. Don’t move, even a millimetre. Concentrate! On what, you ask? On her body, that’s what. By now, I ached for it like nothing I ever had before. Could it have been something in that final oil? Possibly, but what? I tried thinking of Doll-face in a similar way, for she was even more beautiful than Madeleine, but there was nothing. Not the slightest sexual desire for her at all. It really was quite weird. As I said earlier however, not to look a gift horse in the mouth, if it made my servicing of her body bearable then go for it!

  She swept in after an hour and a half. Ninety minutes of sheer torture, even if the lust for her body kept on rising throughout that time.

  “Well done, Anne,” she said, at which I just about did a back flip. She, who hated me with a venom so extraordinary that it could only be described as insane, had actually praised my efforts.

  And there was another thing. She had continued to call me Anne. I had gathered from Big Balls that she always renamed her slaves with some demeaning epithet. And yet she had continued to call me by my given name. Why?

  Guessing that I was still being tested, however, I said nothing and moved not one millimetre, not even my eyes which I kept staring at the centre of the chandelier directly above my head in her bedroom. I could see peripherally, however, and noted that Doll-face and Horse-cock were dancing attendance on her, removing each item of clothing as she sat before her dressing table until she was finally naked.

  She then rose and glided over to stand right over me, her feet between my widely-stretched knees and staring down at my up-turned face. “Look at me, slave,” she said and so I raised my face (and very glad to do so for my neck how had the most appalling crick in it) and looked up at her body.

  It was as I remembered it from our schooldays when I had often seen her naked in the showers, but if anything, it was even better. Even more athletic but still very much the exquisitely beautiful young woman. There was just one difference, however. She was as naked of hair on her body as we slaves were. One can always tell. Even a newly shaved woman leaves some marks or signs of regrowth. She had none and was as smooth, all over, as we were.

  I wondered what was going on. Although I hadn’t followed her career once we had left school, I knew that if she had been enslaved, even for a short time, it would have made headline news. No, it couldn’t have been that. Why then?

  She answered my unvoiced question herself. “So, you now like my body, eh Anne?”

  “You have a beautiful body, mistress. Even better than I remember it...”

  “Yes, well my two body-slaves, Doll-face and Horse-cock were both physical education students and, when I discovered that, I selected them for their present positions. The three of us spend some hours a day in my personal gymnasium, as will you from now on. I also used their knowledge to have my body permanently rid of its natural hair that I dislike intensely. As you can see, there are no razor marks and the skin is perfectly smooth, isn’t it?”

  “It looks as soft as silk, mistress.”

&nbs
p; “Right, then, it’s time for bed and for some fun and games... I take it you are not going to resist me this time?”

  I looked horrified - and weirdly, genuinely felt so, too. “Oh no, mistress. Whatever you wish of me, I will perform to the best of my ability...”

  “Even if I wish to fuck you?”

  I looked at her carefully. I had no idea how she proposed to achieve this aim (being more than a little naïve when it came to lesbian activities), but neither was I put out by her choice of words, even though I never used them myself, but I quickly responded. She might have been showing me a little softness but I wasn’t going to rile her.

  “Whatever you wish of me, mistress.”

  She held out her hand and Horse-cock now moved up, holding an object in his hand which had me staring at them in awe - and in fear. Very real fear. It was an arrangement of leather belts to which was attached a double-ended phallus. One end of this was smallish but the outward-facing part was both long and thick and, I suspected, was moulded from Horse-cock’s massive penis.

  I don’t think I have described this veritable weapon. It poked out horizontally from his naked pubes for a few centimetres but then curved downwards to dangle another ten or so and it was as thick as a woman’s wrist. I knew immediately I first caught sight of it why she had so named him for it was very apt.

  So far, of course, I hadn’t seen it erect but when I did, later that night, I had to gasp for it then stood straight up his flat muscly belly and I swear it was all of twenty-two centimetres long and as hard as nails. Later still that night, I saw it in use on Madeleine and I have to admit I had never seen anything like that event.

  Here, I should explain my own sexual background a little. Like all girls, I had had my boyfriends but I had been more than a little reserved in allowing them liberties. I was still old-fashioned enough to want to keep my body for my husband-to-be. Yes, of course peer pressure caused me to succumb, particularly once I went to university but it was only with two boys and I had thought them pretty damned special.

  They weren’t, but I was too naïve to know it then and in any case, their male members were nothing to write home about. Nor had they much idea how to use them, at least from their partner’s point of view. They both merely humped until they were done and then rolled off. In neither case did they bring me to orgasm so you can see I wasn’t all that excited by sex.

  What I learned that night was so far and away above the two rather sordid romps with those two boyfriends as not to bear comparison.

  First, though, her two body slaves fitted the thing to her body. Doll-face took the thing from Horse-cock and then knelt in front of her while he moved in behind, assuming a kneeling position. She carefully inserted the shorter unit into Madeleine’s quim then, while he held it there, fastened the belt around her hips, then fed the vertical one down between her thighs so her partner could reach it and slip it through the buckle dangling from the small of her back. They both made sure both buckles were comfortably tight and now I stared at her in more awe for she now appeared to be sporting a huge erect penis instead of her former vaginal slit.

  Doll-face and Horse-cock now rose and turned down the huge, king-size bed to reveal wonderfully soft satin sheets and masses of pillows, all as soft as velvet. He moved in then, picking her up in his muscular arms and laying her down on her back, the enormous fake cock, clearly a duplicate of his, now lying straight up her own, more slender but nicely muscled belly and reaching nearly to her lovely breasts.

  The pair of them now slithered in towards her from the sides of the enormous bed, reaching out to caress her body, their lips to excite her with just as much skill and fervour.

  All this I watched in a daze. I could never have dreamed of a scene at once so erotic but also so tender. From the expressions on their faces, the two slaves seemed to be in love with Madeleine but while she looked to be in the grip of an enormously powerful physical sexual event it appeared totally lacking in the passion they were showing.

  I stared down at their two bodies as they worked on hers and wondered that my own lust now seemed to centre on all three of them. I didn’t love any of them, but I wanted their bodies.

  Weird? You bet. I think, on reflection, that the earlier ‘love’ I described for Madeleine must also have been a simple lust for her body, engendered by that final light oil and by the ‘suggestions’ made to me by these two slaves, who, after all, were the epitome of the ultimate sex-slave. She was fabulously wealthy and could have afforded anything she wished. I was to discover she had on her staff an Indian by the name of Sanjiv who trained all her household slaves in the sexual arts.

  But now, Horse-cock moved, or rather slithered, further up onto the bed. His motion really was like a snake and I felt decidedly weak in the knees as I watched his so beautiful body, its fine pale skin and his so beautifully defined muscles combining to present a picture of youthful, Adonic-like perfection, moving up to mount her body.

  Of course, he couldn’t make love to her. Not yet. Her phallus prevented that but he could kiss her and use the texture of his perfect muscles to rouse her even further.

  Of particular note were his buttocks.

  On him, they were ultra smooth and creamy-white: two narrow slabs of finely-wrought muscle, heavily indented or scalloped on their outer edges; boyishly curved and soft when in their natural position, but hardening into iron-hard ridges when thrusting in the act of sexual penetration.

  While he was mock-fucking her, Doll-face’s fingers continued to flutter over her erogenous zones and the combination of this pair of lovers working on her body quickly brought her up to an all-out sexual high.

  They then backed off, sliding away and gesturing for me to come up and lie beside her. As soon as I was in position, she turned towards me, rose up onto her knees, used them to shove my legs out sideways then moved between them and forward, the great phallus at her loins swinging heavily with each alternate forward movement of her knees.

  In no time she was in position and while Horse-cock now reached out and positioned the tip of the fake cock at my quim and Doll-face continued to stroke her mistress’s lovely breasts, Madeleine let her body fall forward over mine and simply rammed the thing hard into my body, at the same time allowing hers to move the final few centimetres and her face was down on mine and she was kissing me ardently.

  What did I feel at that moment?

  Lust! An enormously powerful carnal desire for her to fuck me until that huge fake cock emerged out of my mouth. Yes, that was the image I had at that moment. I can remember it like it was yesterday. And yes, those words were the ones that formed in my mind, too.

  I grabbed her face and kissed her back - hard! And she responded in kind. And from that moment on, while the two body slaves knelt on either side of us, merely watching now but both as inflamed as I was, from the state of their sexual organs, the pair of us made the most wondrous love together.

  No, I didn’t love her. To be honest, I’m not sure what I felt for her at that moment. I don’t think I hated her. Actually, I don’t think I felt anything at all for her on emotional level. But I wanted her. I wanted her body forever and ever. I couldn’t get enough of it and right then, even Horse-cock’s so perfect body (or that of Big Balls), were as far from my mind as could be. I never gave either of them a thought. The raw sexual power she had created in me (or was it that oil) had turned me into a raging lesbian slut - and I couldn’t have cared two hoots for it.

  In point of fact it was partly the oil but, as I later discovered when I met Sanjiv and he began my sexual education, the two body slaves had indeed mentally instilled in me a temporary love (and lust) for Madeleine that had nothing to do with my own sexual predilections and actually suppressed them for the time being.

  Indeed, when I did meet him later, I quickly came to the conclusion that in combination with his incredible knowledge of the sexual
arts and of the Indian discipline of Yoga, including the most advanced forms of its physical exercises, he is perhaps the foremost guru of the sexual arts in the world - bar none!

  Horse-cock and Doll-face had taken to me from the moment we first met (just as I had to them) and they had decided to make my first encounter with the hated Madeleine as easy as possible. They had thus used the knowledge they had learned from him to ‘fool’ me into believing I loved Madeleine and wanted her body desperately. And when they later told me what they had done, I wasn’t in the least put out by their subterfuge; indeed, I thanked them profusely and (when we could talk safely) asked how soon I could meet him and join his classes. They assured me that as our mistress had intimated I would be joining them as one of her body slaves, it would begin immediately.

  But that was later. Right then, she was making frantic love to me, thrusting that giant phallus in and out of me with a raw energy that bespoke her quite incredible athleticism, strength and stamina.

  Of course I gave it back in kind, thrusting my loins up to meet her powerful thrusts, but then she decided to up the ante.

  “Enough of this old-hat sex, Anne. Now let’s try you on anal sex...”

  Being the rawest of tyros, I hardly even knew what this meant, let alone tried it, but the two body slaves quickly moved to quell any alarm I might have had (I later discovered of course, for I still had no idea why I was so enjoying this evening) and I smiled in pleasure.

  “Yes, mistress,” I said meekly, curious but no more than that as to why I was so accepting of such a bizarre suggestion.

  “Right, then lift your feet up onto my shoulders...”