Part 1

History's Slave

Prologue:

 

EIGHT YEARS PREVIOUSLY

 

He studied her carefully, making sure that the light glinted, just right, off her sweat soaked skin. He moved a little closer and lifted a tendril of soaking, black hair away from her face. His eyes lingered on her rounded breasts and he licked his lips. Her skin was young and smooth, virginal. She was over twenty but it was as if her body hadn't lived - until now.

'Look up,' he said as he backed away to stand behind the tripod-mounted camera. 'I said look up!' he yelled angrily.

She raised her head slowly, her wet hair falling around her shoulders and sticking to her arms that were stretched painfully over her head, bound at the wrist and fixed to a large metal hook hanging from the barn's central beam. Her eyes were red rimmed from constant crying, her cheeks flushed, lips pale. 'Please.' she whispered.

'Shut up,' he snarled as he lowered his eye to the camera, 'Now ... look into the camera and just say what I told you.'

She swallowed, desperate to remember what he had made her learn. Her nipples, red and bruised, still ached from where he had pinched them painfully when she had forgotten any of the words. There was a click and he waved for her to start. She swallowed again and then the practised words fell from her trembling lips, 'Mum, dad, you have to listen carefully. Do not call the police. Do not tell anyone. You will have a list of demands with this tape and you must follow every one of them to the letter. There are people watching you to make sure that you behave. Please do as he says or he will hurt me again ... worse. If you do not pay the money then ...' her voice cracked and she gave a small sob before continuing, '... then you will never see me again and I will be his slave forever.' Her voice broke again and large tears rolled down her cheeks, 'Please, do as he says. Please.'

A click and he raised his eye slowly, studying the hanging woman with a stare that she had become horribly familiar with. He continued to watch her as he turned the camera to face the other direction.

The hanging woman followed his stare and she felt a guilty sense of relief as his lustful stare left her.

On the floor a few feet away was a rectangular hay bale. Fixed over that bale, by means of harsh rope and metal links on the floor, was a younger, naked girl, perhaps eighteen years old. Her head was hanging between her outstretched arms, her breasts crushed and scratched by the straw. Her legs were stretched back and spread, her buttocks slightly raised and glowing red beneath the harsh light.

He started the tape again and then slowly approached the tied girl. She heard him approach and half raised her head. Her lips trembled with fear as she watched him slip the belt from the waist of is trousers. He looped the buckled end around his hand and then raised the strap of leather to shoulder height. She tensed, trembling in fearful anticipation before he brought the belt slicing down across the middle of her buttocks. Her head flew back, her thighs quivering as she cried out, her wrists yanking against the rope that circled them. He lashed her again, the leather slicing down where he had hit her before. He struck her several more times, delivering the strap to the same place over and over again until, with a cry of triumph, he drew blood from her quivering buttocks. He threw the belt away and quickly dropped his trousers, moving between her spread legs.

The hanging woman wanted to close her eyes but she couldn't - she couldn't even blink. All she could do was stare, wide eyed, as he drove himself into the poor girl who cried out and tossed her head. He fucked her violently, his fingernails clawing at the bloodied line and other welts that lined her buttocks. He groaned over and over and then he turned to look at the hanging woman and she knew then, with a terrible sickness in the pit of her stomach, that she was next.

 

Chapter 1.1

 

The brand on her buttock, healed now through the passage of time, burned as if freshly singed into her flesh as the sound of her Mistress' footsteps grew louder. The scar was like a beacon, getting hotter with each footfall, heralding her Mistress' approach. Likewise, the clamps on her nipples seemed to tighten of their own accord. She had been bound to the thick wooden pole, her arms and legs wrapped around the woody girth. She remembered that this had been her position when the burning brand had been applied to her buttock, when the lines had been embedded on her skin forever. Permanently marking her with the letter F. Then, as now, her pussy was moist against the harsh pole - her pussy lips having been spread to ensure that her cunt kissed the wood.

She rested her head against the pole and felt beads of sweat rolling down her spine as the footsteps stopped.

The silence was awful. The lack of action even worse.

When the first blow came the anticipation, that had grown during the long minutes, served to heighten the sting. She cried out - as much in surprise as pain and as much in relief that the beating had begun and the terrible wait was over. Her relief was soon forgotten amidst the merciless beating. The ridge of braided leather sliced her buttocks and lower back over and over. Careful twisting s of her Mistress' wrist sent the crop slicing across the curve where her thighs met her buttocks or to find the outer swell of her squashed breasts.

Her Mistress didn't speak - she didn't need to - the message was clear: 'You should never have betrayed me by escaping.'

She sobbed as the message was seared into her very flesh by the torrent of vicious blows. But that wasn't the only message that was silently conveyed.

When the terrible beating finally ended, Natalie sobbed with relief and sorrow. But then suddenly she felt small rubber beads pressing at her anus. The string of anal beads was rammed forcibly into her tight hole, making her gasp and swoon with pleasure. And then her Mistress' fingers were forcing their way towards her cunt and Natalie was coming hard and fast. Her orgasm racked her body as the second silent message filled every fibre of her being; 'You could never truly leave me - I own you and you need me. Your lust and desire form the links in the chains that bind you to me.'

Suddenly she was free from the pole - flat on her back with her knees against her shoulders, her thighs parted and her Mistress' tongue buried deep in her pussy...

... Natalie awoke with a small cry, gasping as she felt the moisture between her thighs. Beside her, her lover - Mel - stirred within her own dreams. Silently Natalie dipped her fingers to the musky dampness and surrendered herself as easily and as completely as she had surrendered to Faith in her dream, only this time it was her desire that painfully tightened her nipples and anus, chaining her with lust. She gave a small cry in the darkness, too lost in her pleasure to hear another faint cry echoing through the darkened flat.

The cry echoed in the shadows of the bedroom further down the hall, emitted from the lips of the woman who suddenly sat upright, beads of sweat rolling between her naked breasts. Her shaking hand fumbled for the light and once it had been snapped on, she searched every corner and shadow of the room with wide, fearful eyes. As the fretful seconds passed the dream slowly faded and she whispered, 'Faith.' The sound of that name was loud in her ears and drove the last of the dream from her mind.

Giving a ragged sigh, Claudia swung her legs out of bed and sat for a moment, her head resting in her still shaking hands. Eventually she stood up and threw a dressing gown around her naked shoulders before moving towards the door. As she pulled it open she glanced at the clock, 02:17. With a sigh she stepped out and walked quietly down the hall towards the bathroom. She passed the two bedrooms that currently housed the three houseguests - Phoebe in the first room and Mel and Natalie in the second. As she passed the second door she thought that she heard a stifled gasp but paid it no heed.

The bathroom beckoned and once inside she slipped the dressing gown from her shoulders as she pushed the door closed with her hip. She left the gown in a pool of material just inside the door and stepped towards the separate shower unit. She opened the clear glass door and stepped inside, turning the shower jet on to its harshest setting. The hot droplets pounded her skin and she rubbed the sweat away with a sponge. She felt the water trickling down her back and she shivered involuntarily as the water prickled the thin lines that striped her lower back. The scars seemed to come to life beneath the running water. It felt as if a thousand tiny fingers were pinching at her skin, digging thin needles into her flesh. She gasped, swallowed water and choked. She stood with her hands against the white tiles while her shoulders heaved and she tried desperately to regain her breath.

'Damn it.' she cursed and angrily turned the shower off. She ran her hands over her hair, forcing the water to the ends of the glistening, ebony strands. She pushed the cubicle door open and stepped out. Dripping and naked, she turned to close the door.

'Oh god, I'm sorry.'

Claudia gasped and turned as a startled female voice filled the bathroom. She glanced quickly at Natalie and then bent to retrieve her gown. Natalie's opening of the door had moved the gown towards Claudia and as she took a step forward and bent to grab it, she suddenly realised that the neon lighting would be glaring off her back. Mumbling a curse she straightened quickly and moved back, holding her gown to her chest. She looked at Natalie, hoping against hope that the ex-slave had averted her eyes but as they stared at each other she realised that the damage had been done - she had seen everything.

Claudia took a deep breath and as she did so she smelt a musky scent. She must have shown some sort of reaction because Natalie glanced down at her hand that was sticky with her spent juices. As she did so she noticed Claudia follow her line of sight.

A guilty look flashed across Natalie's face and she knew that Claudia had seen that too.

'Is Mel okay?' Claudia asked.

For the briefest of moments Natalie considered lying but then she sighed and replied, 'She's sleeping.'

Claudia threw her gown around her shoulders and tied it securely at the waist. 'Coffee?' Without waiting for an answer, Claudia walked past Natalie, closing the door behind her.

As she quickly washed, Natalie found herself thinking about the enigmatic, raven haired woman. Claudia had recently helped Mel, a freed slave and Natalie's lover, to track her down to a slave-camp in Algeria where Natalie's mistress Faith had sent her to be broken. Once there Claudia had secured her release and the release of another slave, Phoebe. Upon their return to England, Claudia had suggested that they stay at her apartment until they settled into their new, free, lives. And she had done it all without complaint and with no hint that she wanted anything in return. Natalie had been suspicious at first but Mel had eventually convinced her that Claudia, truly, wanted nothing in return. But neither did she offer any suggestion as to her motivation for such apparent altruism. Natalie found this difficult to handle at first but as the days stretched into weeks the issue of Claudia's motivation disappeared into the background, hidden under Natalie's recurring dreams about Faith. Natalie loved Mel above all else and now that they both had their freedom it was everything that they had ever wished for - but Natalie couldn't hide from her inner demon forever, she couldn't deny that darkness within her. For now those dark desires were sated by her dreams but she knew, with a terrible certainty, that those dreams would not feed her hunger for much longer. Her lust and desires were growing despite Mel's affectionate attentions. Mel pleasured her so wonderfully, so tenderly but sometimes ... sometimes that hunger gnawed at her gut and in the depths of her pleasure she wished that Mel would hurt her. Just the thought of a cane or crop striking her skin was like a jolt of electricity through her body. She had felt binds at her wrists, breasts and ankles so often that it was easy to feel them again even as Mel nuzzled between her quivering thighs. And it was the memories, increasingly more than Mel's attentions, which brought her to a shuddering climax.

She stared at her reflection as she washed her hands yet again. It was strange, when she was a slave she had always known who she was looking at in the mirror. She had no secrets then, least of all from herself, but now ... she stared into the eyes of a stranger. Where did a freed slave really belong? She shook her head violently and stared at her reflection again, forcing herself to recognise her own face. She turned from the mirror before she could see the angry curl of her lip.

Leaving the bathroom, she headed for the kitchen where Claudia was standing by the sink, her shoulders hunched and her knuckles white where she gripped the edge. She must have heard Natalie enter the kitchen because she half turned, her shoulders relaxing. And then, as they stared at each other, for just a second Natalie recognised herself in Claudia more than she had recognised her own reflection a few moments ago. But then the moment passed and Claudia broke the contact as she turned to grab the kettle.

Natalie sat at the kitchen table and watched in silence as Claudia made them both a coffee. There was a packet of cigarettes on the table. She hadn't known that Claudia smoked and had only started smoking again herself a few days ago. She opened the packet and lit one, breathing the smoke deep into her lungs and letting it out as a sigh. Claudia half turned, raising her eyebrow quizzically but she didn't speak.

Natalie had almost finished the cigarette when Claudia approached the table a few minutes later and placed a mug in front of her. 'Thanks.' Natalie said with a vague smile and turned her head to the side as she blew out smoke.

Claudia sat opposite, sliding her chair closer to the table and reaching for the packet. 'So, you couldn't sleep tonight either?' she asked after she had lit one.

Natalie shook her head, 'It's the same thing every night ... I can't stop dreaming about her.'

'Faith,' Claudia sighed with a nod.

'You know her, don't you?'

'Yes,' Claudia replied, she had hinted as much when she had first seen the brand on Natalie's buttock but had said nothing further at the time or since.

Natalie took a small breath, 'Was she your ...' the word caught in her throat, as if saying it would somehow make the young, powerful woman appear. She coughed and tried again, 'Was she your ... Mistress?'

'No,' Claudia replied with a slow shake of her head. She took a deep breath, 'We were lovers.'

Natalie was stunned and it clearly showed in her wide-eyed expression. That shock turned quickly to suspicion, anger and then fear. 'Why didn't you tell us?'

'Because it would mean explaining everything.'

'You don't have to explain anything to me,' Natalie responded with hooded eyes.

'If I don't you'll never trust me.'

Natalie shrugged but didn't reply.

'All right then ...' Claudia sat back and her eyes took on a distance look as if she was looking at something far away, 'It was eight years ago that we met in a seedy bar in Soho.' Claudia noticed the look that flashed across Natalie's eyes, 'It's not quite as bad as it sounds. I had been taken there by my then boyfriend who was desperate to add some spice to our relationship.'

The heavy atmosphere, thick with cigarette smoke, rolled out towards her as Michael opened the door. Without waiting for her, he stepped through into the dark club, not bothering to check if she was following. Claudia Ellis found herself wondering, perhaps for the hundredth time, why she bothered putting up with him. Michael was a working class wide-boy as, no doubt, her parents would call him. That description wasn't definitely true, although it did fully capture the aura of danger that he carried with him. Perhaps that was the attraction. Most of the men that she had ever met, many of whom had been selected by her parents based on the young man's parentage, were all steady, reliable, safe and above all, upper class. Michael was just the opposite and to the young, naive Claudia, that was a potent mix. And besides, he was a stallion in the bedroom. No man had ever made her feel like he did. She hadn't exactly slept around, mostly it was drunken fumblings at university, but none of those men had pleasured her fully. But Michael, he certainly knew how to make her feel good - even if he didn't quite reach that something deep inside her.

She followed him to the bar, sticking close to him for fear that she would be lost within the shadows of the club. She could hear soft voices but couldn't see anyone else and she imagined a dozen pairs of eyes staring out at her from those dark areas around the edges of the large dance floor. She studied the dance floor and the seven or more shining poles that were fixed to the floor and stretched upwards to disappear into the shadows above.

'You want your usual?' Michael asked without looking at her.

Claudia nodded, half turning towards the dance floor as five spotlights suddenly flared into life and a heavy beat rang out from hidden speakers.

Michael ordered their drinks from the barman and then turned as a young, scantily dressed woman appeared from the shadows at the edge of the dance floor. She moved from one pole to the next, twirling and dancing in time to the rhythm. When she completed a circuit she moved to the centre of the floor and removed her bra with a flourish.

'Yeah!' Michael yelled, 'Now that's what I'm talking about!'

The dancer glanced in his direction and cupped her breasts in both hands, squeezing them together and rolling the nipples between thumb and forefinger. She gave him a faint smile and then continued with her routine.

Michael laughed and slipped his arm around Claudia's shoulders, allowing his hand to lie over her breast. 'That's one hell of a piece of arse, eh?' he laughed and squeezed her breast.

Claudia yelped and pushed him away, 'Don't do that!'

He shrugged and turned to the bar, picking up his drink and tossing it back. 'Put another in there.'

'You haven't paid for those yet,' the barman responded.

Michael stared at him, 'Run me a tab.'

The barman raised an eyebrow and stared at Michael with disdain.

'Alright, alright,' he yanked his wallet from his trousers and handed several notes to the barman. 'That should cover the night's activities. Happy?'

'Ecstatic,' the barman replied as he turned and headed for the till.

'Jumped up little twat,' Michael mumbled.

Claudia took his arm, 'Let's just go. Take me home.'

He stared at her, 'Don't you like it here, baby?'

'No, I don't,' she glanced at the dancer who was slowly removing her panties.

Michael was also watching and he grinned, 'You need to loosen up, baby.'

'Please, Michael, just take me home.'

He sighed, 'Alright, but can I at least finish my drink?'

Claudia nodded.

'Thank you,' he said and snatched up his glass. He lifted himself onto a stool and faced the dance floor. When Michael finished his drink he ordered another and then another.

'Michael,' Claudia sighed as he turned to order yet another drink.

'Oh, come on, babe,' he smiled disarmingly. 'The manager is a friend of mine, he'll be here soon - you'll like him.'

As if on cue a suited man suddenly appeared from behind a curtain on the opposite side of the bar.

'Michael!' the overweight man greeted him happily, extending his hand over the bar. 'Is this business or pleasure?'

'Pleasure,' Michael replied warmly, half glancing at Claudia, 'Stuart, this is my girlfriend Claudia.'

The club manager studied her for a few seconds longer than necessary before smiling, 'Very pretty.' He poured himself a drink and then moved round the bar. 'Shall we?' he invited and directed towards a table.

As they sat at the shadowed table a new dancer appeared. She was younger than the first and smaller in all proportions but, and Claudia was surprised to realise her own interest, this new dancer was far more attractive. Her dark curls bounced around her face and shoulders and she demonstrated an incredible athleticism and strength as she lifted herself up the poles and spun around them. She was a delight to watch, her movements fluid and natural. She reminded Claudia of the dancers at the ballets that her parents had taken her to see regularly when she was growing up. Claudia was so entranced with her dancing that she didn't even notice when she started to undress.

'Nice pert tits,' Michael announced suddenly and Claudia realised, for the first time, that the young woman was now completely naked. She quickly looked away, relieved to realise that both men had been too engrossed in the performance to notice her avid attention.

Claudia heard Stuart shout something but couldn't make out what he said. The dancer turned and Claudia swallowed nervously when she realised that Stuart had called her over. The dancer reached the table, glancing briefly at Claudia and revealing eyes that were almost black in the darkness. The dancer turned her attention to Michael, 'You like what you see, honey?'

'You bet I do,' he replied and slapped her buttocks.

'Hey, watch it!' the dancer yelled, looking at Stuart for support, 'There's a no touching rule here.'

Stuart waved his hand dismissively, 'Mike's a friend, we can skip the rules.'

A look of anger flashed across her face but she didn't say anything as Michael pulled her down onto the seat between him and Claudia. Michael's hand slapped down on her naked thigh and then his other hand reached for her breast.

Claudia stood up, 'I'm going home.'

Michael reached across and grabbed her arm, pulling her back down, 'Be patient, darling, you can have a play next.'

Claudia was too stunned to respond and could only sit and stare as Michael made the dancer stand and lean over the table. He ran his hands over the mounds of her buttocks, grinning madly to himself as he parted the smooth cheeks to reveal the star of her anus and the cleft of her pussy.

'Oh man, I wanna stick my cock up your arse,' he announced, slapping her buttocks with both hands.

Stuart laughed and then excused himself as the barman beckoned him.

Michael slapped her buttocks again and then slowly dragged his thumb down between her buttocks. 'Maybe I'll get my girl to sit on your face while I fuck you.'

'That's it,' Claudia announced furiously and stood up, 'Goodbye, Michael.' She moved around the table but Michael jumped up and moved around the other way to block her exit.

'Where are you going?' he demanded.

'Home,' she replied. 'And don't bother trying to come with me, you stay here and have your fun.'

'But I want you to watch,' Michael smiled.

Claudia was stunned. 'Don't be so vile.'

'You frigid little tart!' Michael was furious that his plans had been ruined, 'All I wanted was a bit of fun.'

'Well, you can have as much fun as you want - we're finished,' she responded.

'I say when we're finished,' he said and grabbed her arm but she shook him off.

'Goodbye, Michael.'

She turned but he suddenly grabbed her hair and threw her across the table. Glasses flew from under her and, unable to steady herself, she rolled onto the floor. Michael moved in on her, grabbing the front of her blouse and hauling her up so that he could slap her harshly. Claudia cried out, raising her hands to protect herself as Michael prepared to hit her again. Then, suddenly, Michael was being dragged off her and she heard him yelp with pain. She looked up and saw the naked dancer glaring at Michael, her fingers curled into a claw.

'Leave her alone,' the dancer said quietly, menacingly.

'You fucking bitch!' Michael snarled as he prodded at the four bloody scratches on his cheek.

The dancer bent to help Claudia to her feet as Michael stared at the tips of his fingers that glinted darkly with specks of blood. With a growl of fury, Michael stepped towards the dancer who stepped back and slashed at his face again, narrowly missing his eyes. Hands suddenly grabbed her and hauled the dancer away. Claudia turned to see that it was the manager, Stuart, who held the dancer back.

'What the fuck is this?' Michael demanded of Stuart.

'I'll deal with it,' Stuart responded quickly. 'I'm very sorry.'

Before Claudia could protest, Stuart had dragged the dancer away.

'Get me another fucking drink!' Michael yelled to the barman. He slumped down on the seat and prodded the scratches on his cheek. 'Fuck,' he cursed angrily.

'You're staying?' Claudia asked, her voice cracked with emotion.

'Yeah, looks like it.'

'Well, I'm going.'

'Fuck off then, 'cos you're no fucking fun. Stuck up fucking rich kid.'

Claudia stared at him, tears stinging her eyes.

He looked up at her, 'You still here?'

She gave a small sob and then turned and fled the club...

... 'Faith was the dancer?' Natalie asked, her voice betraying her surprise. It was hard to imagine Faith in any role other than that of the sadistic mistress who had abused and manipulated Natalie before burning her initial into her flesh, marking her forever.

Claudia nodded slowly. 'Not exactly love at first sight, but she made a lasting impression that night.' She stood up, taking her cup with her. After pouring the dregs of the coffee down the sink, she turned and leant against the enamel.

'What happened with the guy? Michael?'

'What can I say?' Claudia sighed, 'I was young and naive and Michael's opinion really mattered to me. He came to my apartment a few days later, carrying a huge bunch of roses and a humble apology.'

'And you forgave him?'

Claudia nodded, as her eyes grew distant...

... Twenty-one red roses lay scattered around the living room, along with various items of clothing. On the sofa Claudia gasped and ground herself down onto Michael's cock as he held her buttocks in his large hands. He thrust up to meet her downward push and she gasped again, burying her head in his shoulder. His teeth found the sensitive skin at her neck and he nibbled softly. His hands parted her buttocks, his thumb rubbing over the star of her anus. She wanted to pull away, to tell him that she didn't want that - but she was too far gone and the thought of just letting him have his way sent a new warmth to her groin. She tensed as the tip of his thumb pushed against the resistance of her anus. She groaned and then gave a small cry as the thick digit entered her, going in as far as the first knuckle. Michael thrust up harshly, his own passions mounting. Claudia rode with him, crying out as he raked his free hand down her back, scratching her skin. In the midst of her rising climax, the stinging of his nails was electric and she cried out, grinding down harder on his cock. Suddenly he yanked his thumb free of her arse and slapped both hands onto her buttocks. The burning sting of the blow turned quickly to a wave of ice that rolled up her back and down her chest, making her scream loudly as she climaxed. Her spasming pussy clenched his cock and he growled at his own climax and shot his come deep into her.