Prologue

 

"She's passed out again". The voice came to me like in a dream and I was totally unable to move. My tormentor dropped the black leather whip on the floor and soon I felt the strong fumes of the smelling salt in my nostrils. I slowly opened my eyes and I was looking straight into two beautiful brown eyes that belonged to the man who had been whipping me. He looked at me with a neutral expression on his face, just like he would have been looking at any object. The petite, slender Arab girl who held the bottle of smelling salt under my nose held me by the hair in a gentle grip to hold my head in place. I gazed at his oiled, tanned body... his impressive chest and his muscular arms. He was only dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and shoes and his magnificent muscles were swelling as he moved. I flashed a smile of gratitude towards my tormentor. Oh, how I loved to be whipped by this man! He was handling his whip like an artist, all the time making it hit exactly where he wanted. He knew exactly how to use his whip as a tool to light a fire within my body, a fire that would just keep on burning and get stronger all the time. I felt so very fortunate being in the hands of this skilful whip master. My wrists were shackled to the whipping post above my head and the chains had been stretched to the extent that I was balancing on my toes. My entire body was on fire and bright red stripes and welts criss-crossed my back, thighs and buttocks. Also my breasts had received their fair share of cuts, as the leather whip curled around my body and bit into my flesh.

As was the custom, my inaugural flogging was carried out in public, on a platform in the patio and everybody, including the customers present at the time, were watching my ordeal. Each new brothel girl was always given 500 lashes as an introduction before she started serving the customers.

After a short examination, the doctor overseeing the flogging gestured that the whipping could continue. A monotonous voice announced:

"Please proceed. This is number 197".

As he finished, a sharp crack of the whip was immediately followed by my shriek of pain. The tip of the black leather whip bit into my left breast and in my hazy mind I was thinking: "197... that's another 303 lashes to go... 500 lashes... this is gonna take the whole day..." At the same time, the uncontrollable fire was burning within me. My entire being was yearning for the stinging whip.

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

As the wheels of the plane made contact with the ground of this foreign country, it really dawned on me for the first time that this was reality. Not only was it a dream which I had been dreaming night after night for more years than I cared to remember, I was about to achieve one of my foremost goals in life.

Up among the clouds I had let my thoughts run away as they usually do and finally, I fell asleep. For some strange reason I had not really felt any fear, up till now. Now I had landed and there was no turning back. Not even when I got the airline ticket (one way) sent through the mail had I really realized the magnitude of it all. Fear, yes.... but also a strange feeling of anticipation and excitement.

From the air, I had seen vast desert areas with miles and miles of sand. As we were approaching the city, I could see numerous white stone houses, some of them very big and palace-like, my excitement was increasing all the time. In my handbag was a copy of the contract I had signed and I knew my instructions well by heart. I almost felt like I was smuggling drugs or top-secret documents and I feared that the other passengers might notice something strange in my behaviour. When the plane had taxed towards the terminal building and all passengers made ready to disembark, my heart was pounding like a hammer.

I was sitting at the window and I kept on looking for something in my handbag to give my neighbours time to get their things together and go away. We had not spoken much during the long voyage. I wondered if the man next to me, an elderly, smart looking gentleman, had suspected anything. My short dress did not conceal much and I wondered if he had been able to spot that I was not wearing any panties while I was asleep. I did have the newspaper draped over my knees when I fell asleep, but what if... Anyway, I was proud that I had followed my instructions to the letter, according to the letter that had accompanied the ticket. After a short glance in a small mirror I decided that my make-up was all right. I put the mirror back in my handbag and rose out of my seat. "Do they know?" I thought when I smiled back at the airline hostesses. I got out of the plane and made my way through the gangway, with my head bent down. I was glad to be alone with my thoughts as I was one of the last passengers leaving the plane. Although I was perhaps not exactly dressed the way a decent woman should be, according to the standards of this country, I passed the customs without any problems and I thought the officer, handing back my passport, looked at me in a very special, lusty way as he welcomed me to his country. But of course I could have been imagining that.

The heat overwhelmed me as I got out of the air-conditioned entrance hall. This was the first time I had ever visited a Middle East country. According to my instructions I put down my bags and stood waiting in front of the terminal building. The warm air caressed my bare sex. I was wearing a light and colourful short dress, high heel sandalettes and I had no bra on. I was explicitly ordered not to wear any panties during my voyage and I had obeyed - my first act of submission to my new owners. Although my trip mates may have suspected something, at least from the aroma of my steaming hot pussy, nobody said anything. During the trip, I mostly pretended to sleep and all the time I was dreaming of what awaited me in this distant country. It took all my determination and steadfastness not to start fingering myself.

Very soon, I saw a black Cadillac limousine slowly approaching the building. It stopped in front of me and just stood there for about a minute. I could not see anything through the dark tinted glass. Finally, the back seat door opened and a tall, blonde woman stepped out. I gasped at her beauty. Tall, fit and muscular, with the prettiest face you could imagine and a cascade of long, blond hair flowing down her back, reaching down to her waist. Her blond hair contrasted perfectly to her black dress. She smiled at me and came forward.

"You must be Tina Larsson? Welcome, I'm Katja," she introduced herself.

I really did not know how to act. For a moment I was struck dumb, but when she came to me and gave me a warm hug, it felt very natural and I responded immediately. Inside I could feel a tingling sensation as I held her muscular body next to mine.

The chauffeur had opened his door and came forward. He picked up my bags without looking at me and put them in the trunk of the limousine. Katja invited me to the back seat and soon the big limousine was floating away soundlessly and smoothly through the busy streets of the city.

"I must confess that you are more beautiful than I had expected from your photo," Katja purred. "I am so glad that you are here." She laid her right hand on my bare thigh and I could feel her warmth and energy streaming through me.

"And I think you look gorgeous in that dress," she added.

"Thank you," I smiled. I blushed and did not know what to say. As the limousine took us further into the city, Katjas hand started caressing the inside of my thighs and I was really glad for the dark tinted glass windows. The chauffeur concentrated on his driving and did not seem the least interested in what was happening in the back seat. I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning but it was futile: I just melted away at the skilful touch of Katjas hands. I leaned back and parted my legs, exposing my wide open sex for her. She bent down her head and the cascades of her golden blond hair covered me as she started kissing and licking the insides of my thighs and approached my swollen sex lips.

"Mmmmmm... oooh..... please," I moaned.

As her eager tongue found my clitoris, I could not hold it back any longer and I climaxed again and again... Katja brought me to a string of orgasms, like pearls on a necklace. She sucked and licked it like crazy and I could feel my clit swelling like it would burst. I even felt her teeth, though very gently, and that brought me to even greater heights of ecstasy.

Finally, she raised and wrapped her arms around me.

"You are all I had hoped for, Tina," she said sweetly and as her lips touched mine, I could feel the taste of my own juices from her mouth. The Caddy kept on rolling, piloted by a silent, dark man who seemed to have no interest whatsoever in the two women who were hugging and kissing in the back seat.

 

***

 

"First of all you will be trained to serve many men," Katja explained. We were sitting in a leather sofa and she caressed me gently while speaking to me. I looked into her big blue eyes and I was totally bewitched by her pretty face as she spoke. "You will be tied to a bench and there will be a line of men ready to ravage your sweet body. You will be trained how to use your mouth and tongue to serve a man in the best way. Have you served many men with your mouth, Tina?"

"Uuhhh... no, not that many... but I am eager to learn... and eager to please..."

"Good girl! Many men will want to use you Greek style and your secret passage will have to get accustomed to it. Tina, there'll be a long line of brutal men with huge dicks ready to fuck you in the ass! This will make you more and more accessible. You will have to wear massive dildos in your rectum to help with expanding it, larger and larger all the time."

I blushed at her words. She laughed and kissed me several times all over my face. "So, a bit shy, are we? Don't be, Tina. After a time here you will be just as slutty and horny as the rest of us. Ever been ass-fucked, Tina?

I blushed even more and could not answer. Katja laughed and caressed my thighs, sending bolts of electric currents through my nerves. I shivered and for a moment I thought about how it all began, all the circumstances that had led me to this palace and the arms of this very beautiful woman.

 

***

 

In the old days of slavery, a free woman of colour had the possibility of selling herself as a slave. Those who did so most certainly did not do it from masochistic urges. Yet, the idea always intrigued me and the thought never left my mind as I was advancing further on the path of submission.

I guess it has always been within me. Ordinary sex never made me that excited and the only time I could climax was when I was playing with myself, dreaming of sexual tortures, whippings, submission. Over the years I was introduced to the real life side of it and as my experience grew, I knew I had to go further. When a guy for the first time had me over his lap to spank me, I was so excited I could die. Sadly enough, the reason I had been able to talk him into doing it was the whiskey I had treated him with and the day after he felt utterly embarrassed for what had happened (at least, the parts he remembered doing). So that was our last date.

I found it very hard to find a truly dominant man, with the right understanding for this sort of thing. Gradually I was realizing what it was that fired me... and I spent many years in a fruitless search for my perfect match. Many people could not understand why I was so cold towards attractive men who were obviously interested in me and some even thought I was a lesbian. But I could not see the point of going to bed together with somebody just for the sake of it, while all the time I was dreaming of something else, knowing that He was out there somewhere, waiting for me. I often went out, by myself or with friends, in the hope that someday I would find Him. I also answered contact ads but was badly disappointed every time, as I realized that behind the most exciting description dwelled some wannabee who may have read about it in books, but had no idea how to treat a real-life submissive woman, even if she had fallen to her knees and begged him to use her. So I realized that being a submissive was really not an easy thing.

Soon I started taking things into my own hands. I began experimenting with various forms of self-punishment, and although I found it thrilling to start with, it was nothing at all like what I wanted. I used to have a riding-crop beside my bed and often used it on myself while I was masturbating, but afterwards it always felt so empty. I usually don't wear a bra but I made a special one: with tacks inside and wore it sometime when going out. I tried tacks in my shoes and experimented with needles and clothespins. My passion for pain grew all the time, as did the disappointment of being all alone. I picked fresh tree branches and birches to use as an alternative to the riding crop, and although I eventually got myself some quite nice stripes this way, I wanted to submit to somebody who would show me no mercy.

Sure, you could say I was a real egoist. I didn't want to compromise - I'd rather be alone until I got what I needed. I tried to suppress my feelings and forget about it, but of course it didn't work. Once my passions had been awakened, there was nothing I could do but to keep on searching. I didn't find the Dom I was dreaming of... but through a long chain of circumstances I got some contacts which I discovered could help me realize my dream, although in quite a different way than I had expected.

I felt very secure and grateful to what destiny had placed before me as I fell into the arms of the lovely Katja and felt her ripe lips pressing against mine. In just a few hours, I would lay strapped on my back to be brutally ravaged by a number of huge black men who would never get tired of using their new sex toy and teaching her what she needed to know to please her customers.

My training as a brothel slave had begun.