INTRODUCTION
- THE STORY SO
FAR
Taken from her home by time travellers
on her eighteenth birthday, Angel is taken to an Earth far in the past, before
life emerged from the sea. There she is
made immortal, to live forever as a young and naked slave-girl, available to
all men and free women. After more than
fifty years of hardship, abuse and punishments she discovers that her previous
boyfriend, Steve, is her mysterious Master, whom she must now address as Master
Stephen. After a terrible beating she
works as a pony-girl and is then intensively trained as a passion slave. Collected by her Master from the training
school, Angel is handed over to a slave dealer to be sold.
NOTE: On this world days are
twenty hours long and years last four hundred days.
Chapter One -
SOLD
As the Slave Master dragged Angel through the
doorway, she looked at Master Stephen and he flashed his smile, the smile that
had attracted her to him so many years ago.
Then the heavy door slammed and he was gone.
"Body search!" the Slaver ordered.
Slave-girls were not permitted to carry contraband into auction houses.
Obeying without hesitation, she spread her feet a yard from the base of
the wall and leaned forward to place her palms wide apart and at head level
against the cold stones. The Slaver
lifted one hand away and felt between her fingers and across her palm,
continuing his search down her arm to her armpit, repeating the procedure on
her other arm. He removed a comb from
his pocket and ran it through her thick auburn hair roughly and very thoroughly
then pushed the hair over her shoulder so he could see her back and neck. He ran his finger under her steel collar then
moved his hands down her back, haunches and legs, lifting each foot in time to
feel her instep and between her toes.
Pulling her hair over her back again he worked his way from her crotch
upwards to her breasts and armpits, spending quite a long time kneading her generous
orbs. To finish, the brute felt between
her legs, delving his fingers into her vagina and anus and then, with dirty
fingers, the inside of her mouth. Angel
tasted the sweetness of her love juices combined with the staleness from her
bottom. Throughout this degrading search she remained silent, not even crying
out when he stretched her sphincter, thereby saving herself a beating;
slave-girls do not complain when Masters search or use them. They are, of
course, only animals existing to serve and please free persons.
By the time the Master had searched Angel he had become very aroused, so
he wasted no time in using her slender body.
When he was fully satisfied he left her standing in position, on
tiptoes.
She remained there for an hour, arms steadily tiring, shoulders, thighs
and calves aching, feet cold, before the Slave Dealer returned. He had removed his mask and Angel thought
that she had not seen such an ugly man in all her life. He tied her wrists behind her back and then
kissed her mouth. Several years ago,
before her training as a passion slave, Angel would have fought and struggled
before kissing such a repulsive man and earned a beating for her reluctance,
but now she pressed her lips softly to his and allowed his tongue to explore
her mouth.
The Slaver grasped her by the hair and led her, head against his thigh,
along the corridor and down a spiral staircase. She almost fell headlong down
the stairs but he held her steady, gripping her hair tightly. They reached a small guardroom and went
through it to a larger room containing eight treadmills, four to each side.
Seven were being worked by sweating slave-girls.
Angel gasped as she entered the room: it was hot and humid, and the
temperature must have been over 40 degrees Celsius, the humidity nearly 100 per
cent. A Master was encouraging the girls
to work the mills, cracking a whip across their naked flesh whenever they
faltered or slipped off the treads. Two
totally exhausted girls were being punished with an electrical goad pressed to
their bodies between their thighs and under their breasts and armpits. In seconds Angel was fastened over the vacant
treadmill, arms tied high, the treads slowly descending beneath her feet,
forcing her to lift one foot after the other to avoid slipping off and
receiving a stroke of the whip. The
torture went on and on without a break for hours on end, by which time the
Masters, who only spent thirty minutes at a time in the unbearable heat, were
using the goad mercilessly.
Angel lost all sense of time; there was just the relentless climb that
got her nowhere, the red hot blows of the whip, the endless flow of sweat and
the body wrenching bolts of electricity.
Occasionally a bottle of water was held to her lips to replace the
liquid lost and food was thrust into her mouth with a big spoon. All the other girls in the room had
collapsed, one after the other, and had been released from the treadmills, to
be replaced by new girls. Finally Angel
could go on no longer and hung from her bonds, feet hanging over the
treads. After a short period, during
which the electrical torture went on, the Master decided she was finished and
released her bonds. She collapsed onto the stone floor.
"Well done, little slave," he said, lifting her up. "Eighty seven hours,
that is more than most slaves can do, with such stamina you will bring us a
good price."
She was carried back up the staircase and along a corridor, deeper into
the Slaver's house, to a long line of small steel cages set up along one wall
of the corridor.
The Master draped her limp body over the top of an empty cage, lowered
his trousers, sodomised her brutally, then folded her into the tiny cage with
her head tucked between her knees. To
one side of her all the cages contained naked slave-girls, on the other side
they were empty. New girls were brought
in occasionally to fill the empty cages.
Once a day they were drawn out of their cages in batches of ten, taken
to a latrine where they could void their bowels under the watchful eyes of
Masters, then forced to run for an hour in a courtyard open to the merciless
sun. The Masters wanted their wares to
be fit and tanned when put up for sale.
Gasping for breath, the girls were hosed down with freezing cold water
and, still wet, were returned to the cages.
Crouched in their little cages, slaves had little diversion to catch
their attention, just the daily grind of feeding, running and the occasional
rape. Angel spent her time devising ways
of delighting her new owner, whoever he or she would be. For sixty years of her slavery she had fought
to keep her resistance alive, hating what free persons could do to her, trying
her best to hide her revolt, to escape extra punishment. Master Stephen had noted her resistance by
studying her body language, but let it go.
Then he had sent her to train as a passion slave; she was now a passive,
willing slave-girl, ready to please Masters in any way, eager to display her
love and respect of free persons. She
had been tamed and she waited patiently in her cage for whatever fate threw at
her.
One day a long line of naked and collared slave-girls shuffled past the
cages.
Although they were all very attractive they were obviously new slaves,
weeping and complaining as they moved along, struggling with the handcuffs that
confined their wrists behind their backs.
Fresh brands decorated the inside curves of their right thighs, which
also displayed the tattoos giving their ages and the year of their arrival.
Many still had pubic hair; it would be up to their new owners whether or not
this would be kept, most Masters would have it permanently removed. They could not have been on the planet for
more than a few days; just long enough to be injected with the immortality
drugs and bathed in ice water for two days as the drugs took hold. They did not understand the language of their
Masters, or where on Earth they were; only later would they discover the
terrible truth that they had been transported through time and a return to
their previous lives was impossible.
They were being taken straight to the auction room to be sold off
cheaply to dealers who would give them basic training, their new owners hoping
that they may come across a particularly submissive girl who would bring a good
price when sold on. They would all
eventually become willing and obedient slaves, but it would cost time and
expense to the Masters and pain and humiliation to the girls. The coffle of new
slaves moved along swiftly, the slave house happy to take a small profit to
avoid feeding and handling charges. They
were aged between sixteen and nineteen, of mixed race and type, the one thing
they had in common was beauty. They were
beautiful enough to be enslaved. Very
quickly they all had new Masters.
The slave-girls in the cages, including Angel, had already spent some
time in this world and were well trained; they had been reserved for a
specialised sale where enormous sums were sometimes paid. Sometimes a particular slave, not the most
attractive of the girls, would be bid upon by two Masters and fetch a fabulous
price and sometimes a true beauty could not reach a suitable price and would be
retained and punished. On her subsequent
sale she would strive to get a price that matched her value.
Each slave was trained in the choreography of a vended girl and assessed
on how she would appear to the customers in the best light, in order to raise
higher bids. No two girls were displayed
in exactly the same way in order to keep the interest of the audience. Three days before the sale they were moved
to larger, more comfortable cages, so they could stretch themselves; slaves
straight from the small cages would be too stiff to display themselves with
grace. The larger cages were also for
display; potential customers, mostly persons who had made purchases before,
were invited to a preview of the goods on sale.
The slave-girls could be summoned to the front of the cage to display
their beauty and permit the guests to handle their proffered bodies.
On the day of the sale all the girls were moved to the sales room and
chained to a long bar fitted on stanchions along one side of the room. One by one they were taken up to the stage
and, for the last time, performed the slave dances taught them. Angel's performance started with her running
onto the stage, taking tiny steps, opening her arms wide to the crowd with a
smile on her face and crying to the audience 'buy this slave, Masters, she will
give you great pleasure'. She would then
go to the Auctioneer at the front centre of the stage who would start her sale.
After she had practised her display she was re-chained to the long bar;
the sale would not start until the evening.
In the late afternoon a group of slave-girls, the permanent property of
the auction house, came to wash the girls and apply makeup. Angel's hair was brushed until it shone and
her body oiled until it glowed. Tiny specks of tinsel in the oil caught the
lights; it would look even better under the stage spotlights. Black powder brushed lightly onto her cheeks
accentuated her high cheekbones, green eye shadow and black eyeliner displayed
her bright, emerald green eyes, orange lipstick mirrored her auburn hair. The
lipstick was also painted over her nipples and wide aureole. Her hairless labia minora and clitoris were
highlighted with vivid pink lipstick and she was ready for sale. She looked good enough to eat.
The sale began and one by one the slave-girls went up onto the stage,
were displayed and bid upon and finally sold.
The slaves could hear the noise of the audience, the bids, the ribald comments
and the roar of applause when a girl was purchased. The queue in front of Angel grew shorter and
her excitement mounted. She had been
sold at auction before, but had been tricked, as the buyer had been the wife of
Master Stephen, an arrangement had been made with the Auctioneer, so Angel did
not actually have a new owner. This
time, she was sure a new Master would purchase her. This was a time of great
stress to a slave-girl, who would buy her?
Whoever did would own her absolutely, slaves had no choice but to be the
best slave they could be.
At last the slave before her was sold and Angel made her little run onto
the stage.
"Buy this slave, Masters, she will give you great pleasure." She knelt
at the feet of the Auctioneer in the correct position of a passion slave, knees
wide apart, sitting on her heels, wrists crossed behind her back, back
straight, head up and eyes downcast. He
snapped his fingers and she leant forward and kissed his boots. As she rose to
her previous position her gaze fell on the face of Master Stephen, sitting in
the front row. He flashed his smile at
her; he had come to watch her being sold.
She was humiliated in the knowledge that her former owner was watching
and enjoying the spectacle. The
Auctioneer then placed his whip under her chin and brought her to her
feet. She stood with legs apart and
hands still behind her back.
"This is Angel, she has made the 'March to Hell', served forty seven
years in a slave brothel, during which time she gave pleasure to over a million
men and has been an oar girl and a pony girl.
She has just finished passion slave training and is ready for you to
train her to your own particular tastes," he said. "Angel was enslaved on her eighteenth
birthday, she is five feet five inches tall, her measurements are thirty seven,
sixteen, thirty four, her neck is a graceful twelve inches. Her nipples, clitoris and labia are pierced
but at present are without rings."
As he described her he ran his plump fingers over her charms. "Look at her, kind sirs, she is a beauty,
look at this slender throat, this narrow waist, this hungry cunt, see how her
inner lips pout at you, suitable heavy rings will keep them always on show;
regard her plump clitoris permanently at attention for your pleasure." He turned her so her back faced the audience.
"See her bottom, plump and ripe, her straight back, her narrow shoulders," he
turned her again, "do you like these breasts?
Her aureoles are a full four inches in diameter, but when you remove the
lipstick you will find they have been tattooed black, with her fat nipples a
bright vermilion. Who would not want to
own this splendid slave? And she can be yours for a paltry sum." He grasped her hair and pushed her to the
edge of the stage.
" I will start the bidding at twenty thousand pounds."
"Twenty thousand pounds," Master Stephen said.
"Thank you, sir, twenty two on the right, twenty four?'
Angel stood steady until the bidding stopped at thirty eight thousand
pounds, then the auctioneer called for music and she danced. The bidding re-commenced as she moved,
displaying her beauty to the packed sales room.
When the music stopped she continued to dance to the silence, punctuated
by the occasional catcall. The bidding
slowed again at fifty five and the auctioneer turned her back to the audience
again.
"Touch your toes, little beauty," he said. With her legs spread and bent over - she was
so supple she could easily touch the floor with the heels of her hands - her
female charms were displayed to the audience and mostly to the man who sat in
the centre of the front row so close that he could easily lean forward and
touch her, the Master who had caused her to be brought to this world, the man
who would profit from her sale, Master Stephen.
Her eyes were locked on his, gazing between her parted legs, her head
inverted. He was enjoying the show and
he flashed his smile again. 'Is he
fooling me again?' Angel thought, 'is he going to purchase me once more?' Since his opening bid he had not spoken, but
an agent could be purchasing her for him.
She would just have to wait and see.
The bidding reached seventy thousand and after the auctioneer had
stroked his whip through her super-sensitive labia a dozen times Angel broke
her silence, not with words, merely a shrill scream. At ninety five thousand the gavel dropped and
Angel had a new owner.