Slavery Games Ch. 02: Slaves

"I would be a slave but I would avoid the crucifixion," she declared. I must thank Alejandra for her help.

"Participating in the show means you can avoid the slave training. What's more, being famous makes you more valuable and one wouldn't take care of a cheap ... slave," my friend argued.

From Lana's face, I saw she wasn't truly convinced, but she did not argue anymore. She thought for a while.

"I'll do it." She was afraid as she said it.

"I'll do it, but you won't come with me to SGL, you'll wait for me on the crucifixion site?" she asked.

"You don't want me to be present while you will be jailed? It will last 24 hours you know?" I warned.

"I prefer... I prefer to be alone. I know how it happens. I was with Stephanie. It will be OK," she replied.

"Do you have a safe-word?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" she didn't know what a safe-word was.

"A word to say if you really want to be brought down, whatever happens after," I explained.

"Oh... I see... something I won't say by reflex?" she thought.

"Mine was Spirit said 3 times," Alejandra explained.

"And Brittany used Earth I think," I added.

"Stephanie and I didn't have one." She replied while thinking.

"I love pineapple on a pizza," she said.

"Err, I don't understand" I began.

"It's too long. While crucified speaking is difficult, let's say 'Pineapple-pizza'," Alejandra suggested.

We agreed on pineapple-pizza as Lana's safe-word.

I agreed not to meet her at SGL cells and waited until the beginning of the show.

After our meeting with Lana, but before the show, we were contacted by the Slave Office Society, which controls the use of slaves. Indeed, if slaves are human beings deprived of their rights, they have no fewer rights than animals so inhuman treatment is prohibited. The SOS contacted us about Stephanie. The young slave had been admitted to the emergency room.

Bethany welcomed us: "Hello, I'm in charge of Stephanie."

The thing that surprised me was the collar that protruded from the neck of her blouse. Bethany is a slave. She confirmed it to me immediately.

"Of course. SOS can't afford to have employees! I belong to SOS, like all the slaves we save. When emergencies detect ill-treatment, slaves are confiscated from their owners and given to SOS."

Bethany explained to us what had happened to Stephanie.

She hadn't recognized her new owner but in the car she had been surprised to find herself at Brittany's side!

She was going to ask how this was done, but the blonde slapped her: "Slaves only speak when they are given the right to! But no, I'm not a slave like you, I'm your owner... until I get tired of you!"

Brittany tied a leash to Stephanie's collar and showed her a whip.

"We're going to have fun, both of us!" When Stephanie heard that, she would have wanted to call for help, she would have wanted to run away. She could only cry.

"Well, not just the two of us! I've planned a party in your honour tonight," Brittany said with a grin.

"Aren't you thanking me?" Brittany asked.

"Thank you, Brittany," the new slave forced herself to answer. She received a new slap in the face.

"Mistress, to you!" reprimanded her new Mistress.

"Thank you, Mistress!" poor Stephanie managed to say between tears.

She was relieved to see the car enter the garden of a beautiful house. At least she wouldn't have to travel around the city naked at the end of a leash.

Brittany was already waiting for her and in her room, near her bed, there was a cage.

"I predicted you'd lose!"

Stephanie panicked.

"Please Brittany, no. We were in the same class. I'm your slave, I'll obey, but don't make me sleep in that!"

"You're probably right... prove to me that you're ready to obey. Put these handcuffs on, hands in front of you." The new slave did as she was commanded as Brittany sat on her bed.

"Now come and eat my pussy, bitch!" she said, pulling up her short skirt and then spreading her panties.

Stephanie was paralyzed by the suddenness of the request. And, after a moment, she came to kneel before the one, who, two days earlier, was still a classmate.

She wasn't sure what to do. She had learnt how to suck a man's cock, not take care of a woman.

She kissed the waxed pubic area of her mistress. The smell made her nauseous: she was not particularly excited by women. She was going to make an effort, because she knew that this scene would be repeated regularly.

"See, you don't want to. You don't obey!" Brittany exclaimed as she stood up.

"Yes, but I don't know... it's the first time!" cried the girl with the copper skin, but she was interrupted by the sound of the whip. Instantly fear tied her stomach in knots.

"Follow me."

They approached a post in the garden. Stephanie immediately understood what was going to happen.

"No, no, Brittany, please!" The whip slammed again...

But before more blows rained down, she was hung from a hook above her so she could be whipped anywhere and couldn't escape. She was soon on her tiptoes as Brittany enjoyed watching her struggle.

"1- You must call me Mistress" and the whip slammed, Stephanie screamed.

"2- You mustn't talk without being invited" and the whip slammed, Stephanie screamed.

"3- It's not you who decides where you sleep" and the whip slammed, Stephanie screamed.

"4- You obey without delay" and the whip slammed, Stephanie screamed.

The engine whined again, and gradually Stephanie collapsed to the ground.

"You see what a state you are in when you don't obey," said the young mistress wrapping her slave in her arms. She helped her to get up and took her back to her room.

Stephanie was lying on her stomach and Brittany was relieving the pain of the marks on her back with lotion. The slave was enjoying this moment of respite but looking at the cage with anxiety.

"You're bleeding a little, don't move too much. Is it painful?"

"Yes, Mistress," she confirmed.

Brittany then slipped a hand between her slave's thighs.

"No, open your thighs," she ordered.

Stephanie was surprised at the excitement she suddenly felt.

"You're all wet, bitch," Brittany was right, but Stephanie couldn't tell what turned her on. However, her mistress' fingers were welcome in this distress, even if she was ashamed to be so excited.

The fingers slid along her hairless slit. By reflex, she lifted herself up to allow them to progress, and was led to the verge of orgasm.

"You like that, don't you?"

"Yes... Mistress"

The index finger was on the top of the opening of her sex, and her breathing was audible in the small room. She was dying to ask Brittany to touch her clitoris, to stick her finger deep inside her.

"You like me to take care of you, but you refuse to take care of me?"

"N... No, mistress... I didn't know..."

"You'll have the opportunity to learn tonight," laughed Brittany.

"Now into your cage," she ordered.

Stephanie had to crawl into the narrow cage, and when she was in position, Brittany tied her hands behind her back.

"Rest, they'll be here in a little over an hour."

Rest was difficult, so much so was it divided between the anguish of what was going to happen and the excitement that Brittany had created without satisfying her.

Brittany came back later

"They're all here, waiting for you."

Stephanie did not dare to answer her face expressed her question.

Brittany didn't answer and directed her into the living room. There were about fifteen people there. Everyone from their class at school was there and their Stephanie was, a slave naked in front of her classmates. She was red with shame. She wanted to run away, or scream... when she saw Brittany raise her menacing whip. Tears came to her eyes and she froze before getting down on all fours as Brittany ordered her to use her mouth on as many boys as wanted her.

"A good bitch, she was born to be a slave," Brittany joked.

The sex in her mouth, the humiliation, everything contributed to her excitement. Steve, who she had put in his place several times was going behind her. She felt her lips moved apart first by his fingers then his hard cock. She was so excited that it didn't matter. She was heading towards an inevitable orgasm.

Finding herself in a sandwich between the two boys, Stephanie forgot the others who were watching them. The sensations went on pleasantly. Finally, being a slave could have good sides, and it was not as if she had a choice.

But what if she became pregnant? She chased that thought away. It was no longer her problem now, but her mistress's.

The two boys were accelerating, she regretted a little that they were not synchronized, but her position as a slave would not allow her to make these kinds of remarks.

Then suddenly behind her, he pulled out of her cunt. She gave a sigh of disappointment and frustration that made the audience laugh.

She then felt the cock looking for its way between her buttocks. She bent herself to facilitate the entry of his sex into her, but the sensation went upwards as he spread her buttocks and finally pressed himself again her anus. The hands positioning themselves on her hips, what was going to happen was obvious!

"No, no," she tried to say, opening her mouth wide. She barely had time to realize her mistake when the boy ejaculated on her face.

Her weak protests were useless and just made them laugh and hurt her more.

"You really have to make trouble all the time!" Brittany shouted.

"Come on, take her to the garden," she added, taking her whip. Stephanie understood immediately what was going to happen, the four strokes of the afternoon were still painful.

"Sorry, sorry, no, I'll do what they want, Mistress!" but her crying was ignored, and some red stripes were added.

Returning to the living room, Stephanie obeyed, but her holes were so painful, she cried, and Brittany took this as an excuse to use her whip again.

Then came the blood stains that served as a pretext as well.

When the slave lost consciousness, the young people worried about her condition and called for the emergency services. It looked like Stephanie had been whipped so severely she was unconscious and bleeding out.

"My God, what a story," Alejandra exclaimed.

A growl of pain emanated from the next room.

"She's waking up. I'll take care of her. Would you like to come in?" the nurse asked.

"Shouldn't we give you some privacy?" I asked.

"Oh no, she's a slave, you know!" she said.

Stephanie was lying on her stomach, naked except for her collar. Her back was covered with blows and cuts.

"You see, her owner couldn't use a whip correctly!" said the nurse.

"Does it burn?" she asked the wounded slave who growled a "yes".

"I'm going to put some more cream on".

"You give her painkillers," I was worried.

"The only one to which slaves are entitled," she replied with a smile.

She was trying to spread the cream lazily on Stephanie's back. Something struck me, but I didn't know how to ask the question.

Then she slipped a hand between Stephanie's legs.

"She's tied up," I asked.

"Yes, she's a slave" was the answer.

"You were also treated here," she looked at her hand that was on Stephanie's butt.

"Yes... did you notice?"

"What happened?" I asked, trying to be gentle.

"Some masters... have crazy ideas," she says emotionally.

"Mine tried to cut off my fingers. At the third one, it went wrong." Indeed, she had only three fingers on her left hand and four on her right. That didn't stop the remaining fingers from being agile, judging by Stephanie's moaning.

"Oh please don't stop," begged the wounded slave.

"I'm listening to you..." the nurse asked.

"I must obey my master, and only come with his permission," whispered Stephanie, apparently not completely convinced.

"Were you treated here?" I asked while I watched Stephanie squirm with pleasure.

"Yes, and then as I was a nurse before I became a slave, they kept me."

"Oh, please," says Stephanie.

"No, you know what you have to do," Bethany insisted.

"I will come, can you stop or give me permission to come?" asked the frustrated slave.

"I'll let you think about it for a few minutes," said the nurse.

"I'll walk you home," she told us.

"And Stephanie, will she stay at SOS?" I asked once we left her room.

"No, we're all here, and she doesn't have the training and then we have to finance ourselves. We will find her a good master," the slave nurse reassured us. I saw Alejandra rubbing her thighs together. I was in a similar state of horniness and Bethany noticed it.

"Do you want me to take care of you... sexually?"

"Oh no," I replied, embarrassed.

"As you wish Miss. It is my duty as a slave to do anything I can for you. Also, I am then allowed one orgasm for every 15 given," she said, opening a blouse to show us the chastity belt she wore underneath.

It was something of a relief she gave us before we left.

At the place, I got a feeling of déjà-vu. I was at the place where the truck would arrive and the six wooden beams were on the soil. On the opposite side, the six pillars arranged three by three were standing.

Between these pillars, there were the pilloris. The losers would be locked in them until the winners finished their time on the cross.

The trucks finally arrived and I was able to observe the work of the guards. They wore the same sober dark uniform. Two by two these guards helped the participants to get down. As soon as one of the players put his foot on the ground, his two guards directed him toward the beams. They were showing him to the crowd so that he could not see these beams. At the same time, two other guards were taking over the next player. While the couple of guards detached the player's hands by holding him in front of the beams, another pair of guards lifted the nearest beam and positioned it above his shoulders. As soon as his hands had been released, they were attached to the beam again. This way, I understood, prevented the participants from feeling any downtime. They were involved in a continuous flow of events.

The nearest crowd stood up to see the well-oiled mechanics better. Some took pictures, and others filmed them.

Two rows of naked men and women were formed. Frightened by the sound of whips, which were in fact only leather straps, they began to walk barefoot in the grass.

Lana was first in the women's row. It began from behind the pillars from which the men would hang. She was much smaller than that black, muscular girl behind her. On the shoulders of the latter, the beam was no more than a straw. A tall redheaded girl, only skin and bones, walked with labored steps. She won't last long, I thought. She'll be the first to give up. The danger will come from the second one.

In the crowd, a wave formed as people stood up as those who would risk their freedom passed by, before sitting down. I wanted to see it as a tribute.

The other row was the men's row. In the lead was Andrew's coach. I smiled and remembered how he had wanted to imitate me, but his blowjob had been so well executed that poor Andrew had come into his mouth. After that, he never had been able to continue. That's what led Andrew to his cell and the coach here. Right behind him, was Bill's coach, I think. The week before he was wearing clothes. Hmm, he was to my taste, although a little too skinny. Finally followed a rather fat native American. The beam seemed heavy on his shoulders.

The crowd was smaller on that side, perhaps less inhibited and noisier.

Their progress was slow behind the pillars, giving the crowd time to enjoy it. Lana stopped as she observed one of the poles. I saw the fear on her face. One guard spoke to her and another slammed his strap to the delight of the crowd. Yet I'm sure she wasn't whipped, just scared, and she started walking again.

The crowd, they certainly thought she had been bitten by the leather; at least that's what the screams of delight told me.

Men and women crossed paths, then they were directed towards their respective sites. A guard pushed Lana back. With the weight on her shoulders, she staggered and stumbled against one of the pillars, the one that was to be hers. She had the eyes of a prey paralyzed by fear. She was looking at the overexcited crowd.

I guess there she felt the humiliation of being exposed naked in this way, the humiliation of not even being able to cover her breasts or pussy with her hands. No downtime for the guards. As Lana looked at the crowd, one of them tied the ropes that hung from the top of the future cross to the beam. Two others were pulling on the other ends of these ropes. It lifted Lana out of her torpor by pulling her up. The one who had tied the ropes joined the other two, a new effort, and my protégée was on tiptoe, she shouted in surprise. Once again, they fired. Her scream was cut off as she left the ground. Then there was the sound of the crowd clapping their hands to the rhythm of the guards pulling the ropes and uniting them. Two guards kept moving her up slowly now, and two others approached her.

She had seen the scene up close the week before, but, like the others, she was looking for support to stand up. Her legs turned and clung to the pole, then trying to climb up, she slipped her feet on the too smooth surface. The crowd laughed at her distress, but she tried again without realizing that her legs were spread apart, showing all her intimacy.

The guards who had stopped pulling came to her and grabbed her ankles. They were talking to her, and she was watching them. They bent her knees, then pushed her ankles backwards from the post until her heels touched. Then they would roll up the rope to hold this position. Captivated, the crowd made no more noise. Lana was hung by her arms, her thighs so wide open that I could see the opening of her slit. Then she pushed on her legs, swinging right and left to end upright. The guards holding the ropes adjusted her position, and she fell down and hung by her arms again. There was some pity in the crowd for her suffering but as much excitement at her suffering and humiliation. Almost all the crucified were at the same stage.

One guard signaled to me that it was time for me to approach. The other was starting to attach the beam to the pillar.

Lana was breathing heavily. I was trying to remember Alejandra. I think she was unable to breathe at that time. I was marked by this sex, shaved and open. Is being waxed there, an obligation of the show? I was making a mental note to ask Patrick. I turned around, every participant was hairless.

When she pushed again, she was unable to stand up straight. She had to keep her knees slightly bent. She sighed with frustration, and let herself slip into the down position.

A guard took her by the buttocks to push her up.

"I'll help you"

"Oh, no, please don't do that!" For seeing it the week before she knew that another guard was pushing a dildo through one of the holes in the pillar. The one a guard had spotted in his previous moves. This dildo was like a hook, and its phallic tip came just under Lana's crotch.

I thought it was obscene. It was.

"Lubricant?" Asked the guard and handed me a tube. My work was starting. I would brush the end of the dildo with it, then between Lana's buttocks. She was still begging. I was trying to slip a finger to make her release her sphincter. Obviously, she wasn't ready for that. The guard who didn't hold her buttocks released his pressure and inevitably she slipped down. She tried to avoid the obstacle, but the guard guided her. When the contact was made, it seemed as if she had received an electric shock. She pulled herself together and put herself back in the high position, but inevitably she adjusted. It took her three attempts to finally agree to sit on it.