Enlightened Descent Ch 05 1

The first four chapters of this saga dealt with the relationship between two women, one dominant, the other submissive. As we progress, Allison's plight becomes more dire, and certainly more real. This story deals with various aspects of slavery (actual, not role play), humiliation, lesbian sex, exhibitionism, and body modification. If non-consensual sex and slavery may offend you, please move on to another story that you may find more appealing.

Enjoy!

Saphhia

*****

Chapter Five

My ankles and wrists ached from the binding that had been tying them together for longer than I thought I could possibly bear. My thighs burned, and my shoulders felt as though they were out of their sockets. I could see nothing at all, the damned bag encasing my head. I had been denied any vision for so long that I thought I was hallucinating, as multiple colored stars and lines moved over my vision. Sweat poured off my naked body, and I could smell my fear, as the anticipation of what awaited me seared into my mind. This was no longer play, and I knew it.

The rough carpeting of the trunk brushed harshly against my skin, as the car moved along the highway, each bump and turn a reminder of my helpless condition. It was that same morning that Penelope had revealed to me that in surrendering to her, I had also become her property, in a very real sense. At least I thought it was. "Property is quite often, acquired and disposed of, Allison." My mouth had been gagged as I lay on the sofa in my apartment, shocked with her next declaration. "So, you may be interested to know that I have sold you for a very substantial sum of money." Her voice sounded cold and disconnected, and I struggled against my bonds as a bag was placed over my head.

Rough, gloved hands handled me as I was placed into a trunk, the lid being swiftly closed, all sound being silenced. I could feel movement, as it was carried, and then set down roughly a few minutes later. The trunk was tight, and my legs were curled up against my chest, but I knew we were moving. After only a short time, the movement stopped, and the trunk was once again lifted and set down.

Vaguely hearing the whining of a jet in the background, I once again struggled against my bonds. "Oh, my god." I said against the gag. What had this come to? The trunk was opened, and I was taken out, the bag still secured over my head. I could feel the heat of the sun against my skin, and I knew that I was outside. That very fact, and that I was naked and completely unaware of my surroundings, sent a shudder through my body. It was a good thing there were strong arms supporting me, or I might have collapsed. The only thing I knew for certain was that I was at an airport of some sort.

I could smell the unmistakable richness of fine leather mixed with Chanel, as I was led up some stairs and fastened into a seat, securely. I was hoping that the bag might be removed, but instead, I felt a sharp sting bite into my arm, followed by a distinct buzzing in my ears. The buzzing grew to a roar, and then all went silent.

The heat in the trunk was nearly unbearable, as the car finally came to rest and the lid opened. The relative coolness of the air, brought a chill over me, even though I knew that it was far from cool outside. As I was set down, the ground burned my feet, and I hopped back and forth, trying to temper the contact with them. This only brought laughter from whomever observed my plight.

I was walked in this condition, for what seemed like hundreds of yards, finally being thrown to the ground, which appeared to be sand covered. I could feel sawing between my hands, and the rope that had bound them for so long, was finally cut. Before I could free them completely, there was a loud clang of iron, followed by fading footsteps. My hands desperately wrung against the ropes, until they were free. I immediately ripped the bag from my head, but was bewildered by what I saw.

The ground was indeed sand, but more startling was the realization that I was in some sort of cell. It was not dark, the door to my prison being open directly to what appeared to be a desert. I could see people moving around outside, but they seemed oblivious to my being there. I struggled with the rest of my bonds, and my gag, and being finally unfettered by all, I yelled at the top of my lungs. "Help!" I crawled to the bars of the cell, my hands shocked by the heat of the metal. In fact, it was unbearably hot; the air, the sand, the stone walls, all searingly hot.

My cry for help only brought amused stares in my direction, their faces quite dark and foreign looking. "Where the hell am I?" I sighed, as I fell back against the back wall of the cell.

"You, my dear slave, are in Qatar." A deep, but almost soothing voice exclaimed. I saw no one, but then a man appeared from behind the wall to my cell.

"Qatar? Do you mean, like, middle east, Qatar?" I gasped.

"The very one." He smiled. He was not an unattractive man, his head being shrouded in a white head dress, but otherwise, clad in what appeared to be a very expensive suit. I began to weep as I realized the gravity of my situation. "Oh, you mustn't cry, hairless one. You would be punished severely if such a display of ungratefulness was observed." The heat had caused me to sweat uncontrollably, and the sand clung to my body wherever it touched.

"What is going to happen to me?" I begged, trying to stop myself from crying.

"You were purchased as a plaything for His Highness, Sheik Faruk Al Khan, but I think he intends you for his sister, Asha." So, I was to be some sort of harem slave? I cradled my head in my hands, but kept my sorrow silently. "Very soon, women from his household will fetch you." He smiled, tapping his fingers against the bars of my cage. "You must behave, hairless one." He crouched down, so he was on my level. "I am telling you this as a kindness. If you resist, or complain in any way, it will not go well for you." He looked over his shoulder, spotting something that caused him to stir.

The man quickly moved away from the cell, as I heard the unfamiliar voices of women, speaking in a very foreign tongue. There were four of them. All were shrouded in cloth, only their eyes showing from beneath the jet-black fabric. One gestured for me to stand, as they opened the door to my prison. My first thought was to run, but to where? Instead, I heeded the advice of the man, allowing the women to approach me.

After they had brushed most of the sand away from my body, they began to wrap me in the same garb that they each wore. A roughly hewn pair of sandals were tossed onto the sand as they completed the wrapping of my head, until, just as they appeared, only my eyes were exposed. I wondered if I looked as they did, and realized that there was no way I could look any differently. I was led out of the cell, and across a large courtyard, where a white Mercedes SUV was parked. I was placed in the middle of the back seat, between two of the women.

Their conversation was animated, and there was frequent laughter, at my expense no doubt. They all seemed young, at least by their eyes, but I really had no way of telling. They smelled of incense and cloves, and it was not entirely unpleasant.

We drove for some miles, across what appeared to be stark white desert, its uniformity only disturbed by the occasional stucco building, all jet white as the sand itself. We finally approached a large complex of buildings, all surrounding a very tall wall. There was a single opening in the wall, guarded by men with what appeared to be machine guns. They looked inside the vehicle, and then motioned for it to continue through the archway.

Once inside the wall, everything changed. Gone was the desert sand, and the roughly built block buildings, replaced by lush lawns and gardens, and lavishly ornate palaces fashioned of pink and gray stone. Spiraled columns decorated a central palace, but this was not where we were going. Driving well past the most ornate buildings, we finally stopped at a low, single story complex, also built from the same stone. I was removed from the Mercedes by the women, and led inside.

I was surprised by the interior of the place. The floors and walls were all of polished marble, and there were fountains and pools everywhere. What amazed me most of all were the women. There must have been nearly fifty of them, all clothed in various silks and gauze, the colors amazing and their brevity and transparency beyond revealing. "It's actually a harem." I said under my breath, which brought a sharp tap on the lips from one of the more conservatively clad women. She glared at me, and I knew that to speak was apparently forbidden.

A very attractive, but older woman approached us, and rested me away from the women in black, leading me into a small building across a spectacular courtyard, weaving our way through pools and waterfalls, fountains and lush plants and flowers. My head was still not grasping what was happening to me. The woman closed the door to the one room building, and I realized it was a dormitory of sorts. All around its perimeter were simple but quite comfortable looking beds. It wasn't ornate, but it wasn't plain either. She immediately began to strip me of the heavy black cloth I was wrapped in, revealing my naked body beneath. A sheen of sweat caused my skin to glisten in the limited light that spilled in through two skylights in the roof. I was still covered in sand, even with the efforts of the others to remove it.

She seemed to inspect me, walking around in a circle a few times, as if deciding what to do with me. Suddenly, she clapped her hands together twice, and three younger women came rushing in and led me out into the courtyard, naked. As far as I could tell, I was the only one that was. The women tittered at me, and I wasn't certain if it was my baldness or my lack of clothing which so amused them. Probably both, I thought.

The women undressed when we reached what appeared to be an enormous spa, bubbles rising from deep beneath its surface. The bubbles tickled as they rose around my body, and I couldn't help but smile. The water was scented and warm, but not so warm as to be uncomfortable. As the three women entered with me, they began to wash me, with their bare hands. Their ministrations were nearly overwhelming, as they left no part of my body unmolested.

When they had cleaned me as thoroughly as could be imagined, one of them fetched what appeared to be a straight razor from the edge of the mosaic rim. She gestured for me to stand, my pussy rising just above the surface of the effervescing water. Ever so carefully, she shaved whatever slight stubble might have covered my sex, checking her progress by feel rather than sight. She motioned for me to sink back into the water, and bowed her head. Knowing what her intention was, I mimicked her, and she continued with my head.

The razor felt cold and extremely sharp against my scalp as she shaved. Taking her time, she worked in short strokes, until she ran her hand in every direction to assure the smoothness of its surface. She then raised her face, closing her eyes, but I did not want her to do what she was intending. I remained looking forward, with my eyes open. Again, she gently made the gesture, and again, I resisted. Suddenly, a slap came from behind, catching me completely off guard, delivered promptly by one of the other girls in the pool. I winced from the sting of it, my wet skin accentuating its bite.

With a stern look on her face, the woman shook her head slowly from side to side, and then as if in a trance, repeated the gesture once more. I did not resist. I closed my eyes and raised my head, feeling the honed edge of the blade against my brow. Once again, her fingers traced my skin for any sign of anything but smoothness. Her fingers cradled my chin, and I opened my eyes. As she folded the razor into its colorful ceramic sheath, she floated up against me and allowed her mouth to press delicately into my own. Her lips were soft and smooth as satin, and I could not help but moan with her kiss.

All this time, not a single word had been spoken by anyone, and not only by those who accompanied me, but by a single woman in the place. The only sound was from the water, treated by its many fountains and cascades, or the birds which darted from one tree to the next.

Suddenly, there was a flurry of activity, the women running this way and that, as if taking their places in some huge production. I too was set in what appeared to be a position, right at the center of the courtyard, and surrounded by all the others. I was still dripping wet, as were the women who bathed me, but at least they had slipped their scant coverings over themselves. They stood behind me, as if they were about to present me. My assumption was absolutely correct.

A young man, and a very attractive young man, came walking through the gates to the 'harem' as it were. He had two well armed men behind him, almost looking like secret service, earbuds and all. I suddenly felt very exposed as he approached me directly, without even giving a glance at the other women, some of whom, well, I would say nearly all were far better looking than I was. He stopped some three feet away, eyeing me up and down, then he too circled me, as if performing an inspection.

I felt a hand run over my head from behind and then circle around to the front, running over my breasts and then down to my pussy. He did not seem at all put off by the water that still clung to my skin. Saying something in Arabic, all the women scattered, leaving me standing alone before him and his men. "The brochure did not lie about you, hairless one. You are indeed very beautiful." He nodded to his men, who immediately retreated to the gates, to stand guard. "I am almost remorseful that I have given you to my sister, Asha." He smiled, and strangely, it put me at ease. "There is to be a gathering tonight, in the palace. It is the day of my sister's birth, and she is to be honored. You, Edim Alshaer, will be my gift to her."

He sat on a small bench which was one of several forming a circle at the center of the courtyard. "You may kneel before me." I did as he asked, for I knew that he was not one to be trifled with. Lowering my eyes, I tried to concentrate on his shoes, preventing my normally wandering glances. "I do not begin to understand my sister's cravings, and I know that what she does is a sin. She is my sister, however, and for that, I must grant her some latitude." Although he spoke with a very slight accent, his English was impeccable, with almost a British formality to his tone.

He cupped my chin in his hand, raising my face to look upon him. "I do not know to what purpose she will eventually put you to, but I must warn you, she is a harsh mistress." He smiled, which was so infectious, that I could not prevent my own lips from mimicking his gesture. "You are a sweet thing, I can tell; so pure and unblemished." He glanced down at my pussy, and I knew he was eyeing my tattoo. "This mark will need to be removed, however." He caressed the words that labelled me. "Let me not see you marked by her disapproval, Edim Alshaer." He warned. I wondered what this name was, if indeed it even was a name at all.

Looking over my shoulder, he must have signaled for me to be taken, but rose and walked away before I was led back to the one room dormitory. I turned to see him slip through the archway, accompanied by his men. I was left alone for quite a long time, after being directed to one of the small beds. I assumed that it would be my own, so I took advantage and curled up on the smooth cotton sheet. Having this time by myself, I took stock of where I was, and

what

I was.

I was certainly a slave, and not like in any game of role-play that Penelope might have dreamt up. No, this was quite real, and I appeared to be nothing but property, chattel. I was in a place from which there could be no reasonable escape, and this thought weighed heavily upon me. The culture of the people here was totally foreign to me, and I would need to learn to please, without benefit of that knowledge. And so far, I had not been offered any form of clothing, making me wonder if that was to be my new natural state.

Something else that worried me, was the Sheik's warning. From his description, his sister sounded like she would be hard on me. I had no idea what she might expect. I was convinced that I would soon find out however, as two of the conservatively dressed women entered and roughly retrieved me. Still naked, I was basically dragged through the courtyard and out into a waiting cart. It was something that resembled a golf cart, only far more modern and luxurious.

The breeze generated by our movement felt good against my skin. I would need to acclimatize myself to this heat if I was to survive here. When I wasn't in the pool, I had done nothing but sweat. Fortunately, upon our arrival at the main palace, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was air conditioned.

It was incredibly humiliating to be led through this magnificent building, and before countless people, completely naked. What made it almost more degrading, was that no one gave me a second look. Here I was, this hairless, naked, white woman and it was as though nothing could be more natural as I was led amongst them. Most of the men were dressed in white robes, with head dresses similar to that of the first man who addressed me. The women, when I saw any, were all dressed in black robes, with long shawls over their heads. I thought that it must have seemed so odd to have a naked woman there, but apparently it was not.

Perhaps it was the very fact that I was white, that made my nudity acceptable. It was all soon forgotten however, as I was forced to kneel at the center of this incredible bedroom. There was a medallion of some sort laid into the marble floor, and I was directly at its center. "No..move.." One of the women said, in barely discernible English; after which, they left.

I must have knelt there for close to an hour, and my knees were absolutely screaming from the unforgiving marble. Laughing outside of the room made me aware of people approaching, and soon I was surrounded by what must have been friends and family of the Sheik. There was some hushed talking, as they seemed to discuss me. I dared not look up, but I was frightened. My eyes darted about, trying to catch a glimpse of the people that surrounded me. It was then that I heard the voice of the Sheik, familiar to me from our previous meeting.

"Edim Alshaer, you will stand." A woman's voice commanded. Keeping my eyes down, I stood and watched as her feet came into view before me. Her hand slipped under my chin, lifting my face. "'Iinaha jamilat, shaqiqin. shukrana." The woman was devastatingly beautiful, and I had yet to take a breath. Her hands wandered over me, my breasts, my head, and there were some whispered comments by those around us.

"Alsamt!" The Sheik chided. I assumed he silenced them, because everyone became quite as a mouse. Asha continued her attentions, eliciting the desired effect, I think.

"'iinaha alrutub bialfael." she giggled, her fingers slipping between my folds, my wetness causing a quiet squishing sound as she played. The 'audience' slowly began to fade away, making their way out of the room, until only Asha remained. "You enjoy my fingers there, do you?" I didn't know whether to answer, so I nodded. "We are alone now, you may speak, when I bid it." Her English was nearly as good as her brother's, but not quite as refined.

"Yes, Mistress, I like it very much." I whispered. She continued her ministrations, until a moan escaped my lips, and it was quite out of my control.

"Look at me, slave." I raised my eyes until she met them, their gaze holding me spellbound; she was so beautiful. Asha's eyes were deep brown, almost black and her skin was so smooth, she appeared to be carved from the most exquisite alabaster. Without releasing my eyes, she unpinned something at her waist. Slowly, and seductively, she unwrapped herself, until she stood before me as naked as I was. I nearly collapsed. She was beyond perfect, in every way imaginable.