Enlightened Descent

This story deals with various aspects of abduction, slavery (actual, not role play), intense humiliation, autoeroticism, exhibitionism, and hair removal or shaving.

IF YOU FIND SITUATIONS DEALING WITH NON-CONSENSUAL SEX AND SLAVERY UNAPPEALING, PLEASE

STOP NOW!

If, however, you can continue with an open mind, and read this as it is meant to be, a work of complete fiction...

Enjoy!

Saphhia

For those who have been waiting... thank you for your patience. Sometimes, life gets in the way of creativity.

Chapter Fourteen

Reginald sat in his study, unable to sleep. Sleep was a commodity that often eluded him in recent years, and he wondered if his dabbling in the bizarre behaviors of rampant sex and dominance had tortured his soul.

The brandy tasted sour in his mouth, and he thought briefly about spitting it out, but winced and the liquid scorched his throat. "Damned stuff is going to kill me one day." He mouthed out loud, setting the snifter down so heavily that the globe snapped off the stem. "Son of a..." The silence of his study was broken suddenly by a knock on the door. He glanced at the mantle clock.

2am. Who would bother me at this hour?

"Come."

"I beg your pardon Sir, but there is a call." The butler, dressed in his livery but obviously aroused from his slumbers, held out a wireless receiver.

Reginald raised an eyebrow inquisitively, indicating the clock as he reached for the telephone.

"I believe it is madam Marga, although she did not say so." The butler retreated to the hallway, closing the door as he left.

Reginald stared at the telephone for a moment, the hold button flashing red on the keypad. With a sigh he pressed it, and held it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Reggie, darling. Another sleepless night?" Marga dug. He knew that she suffered from the same insomnia, and they had shared numerous conversations in the wee hours.

"Marga. You know me well." He winced as the pain his gut entreated another case of heartburn. "And to what do I owe the pleasure?" He opened the small, ornately carved wooden box on the table beside him, and extracted a roll of antacid.

"I am very interested in your...ah...plaything, I think you called it at one point." Marga insinuated. Reginald could almost see the smug look on her face.

"She's not for sale, Marga." He insisted.

"She? Ha!. That is a very broad interpretation of the feminine sex, Reggie." She cleared her throat. "Everything is for sale, darling."

"You know, I only just acquired her. Give me a chance to understand her potential." Reginald insisted.

"Oh, Reggie. You really are too old fashioned, aren't you?"

"If you equate caution and reserve with 'old fashioned', then I guess that is true." He said, crunching the last of the three antacids he had been sucking on.

"Well; do bring 'her' by then. Soon, I hope." Marga relented.

"You'll be seeing her soon enough, Marga; your little soiree next week. I'll be there."

"Good! Good. I look forward to it." A click on the far end of the line ended the twisted conversation, and Reginald sat back in his chair, enjoying the relief the lozenges had afforded him.

"Everything is for sale, Marga." He spat under his breath.

Asha looked down at the lithe body that pulled in tight against her. Allison had been restless in her dreams, but was now settled, and it pleased Asha to see her lover calmed. She carefully ran her hand over the soft pate of her lover, enjoying the sensuous smoothness of it under the pads of her fingers. "Sleep, my love." She whispered under her breath, as she too drifted into slumber.

All too soon their restful night was interrupted by the loud rapping on their doorway. "Six o'clock!" The voice insisted from the other side of the wood.

Allison rose quickly, out of habit, hastily donning her livery; but Asha was slow to awaken. "You must get up Asha. I can't see you punished again."

"I am awake, my dear, but I was having the most wonderful dream and I am reluctant to let go of it." Asha sighed.

"Well, let go you must, or we'll both pay the price." Allison pulled gently on Asha's arm, which was all the insistence needed to spur the olive-skinned beauty into action. In a matter of minutes, they were assembled in the kitchen, along with several other staff members that had yet to be assigned tasks for the morning.

One by one, they disappeared as the matronly housekeeper made her way down the line. Before she reached the pair, however, Elise appeared through the doorway. She grabbed Allison by the wrist, roughly. "Come on, you two. Marga has something planned for you today." Elise sneered. "You may even enjoy this." Laughing under her breath.

They were led to Marga's chambers, where their mistress still lay in her bed, awake, but obviously waiting for their arrival. "Oh, you really must hurry." Marga insisted.

Elise pushed them both towards the oversized bed, as Marga sat up and turned her naked body to the side, allowing her legs to dangle off the edge. "I think my feet are in need of attention, Allison. Do lick them clean." Marga insisted, smugly.

Without hesitation, Allison bent to begin the demeaning task of cleaning Marga's feet with her tongue. The tangy flavor was not entirely unpleasant, and the task itself was humiliating enough to set her submissive drive into motion and she felt herself moisten at her center.

"Very nice, slave. And now, Kasis; I will have you here," pointing to the neatly trimmed bush between her legs. "but do not lick, simply kneel close with your mouth wide open."

Asha's eyes grew wide when she realized what her cousin's intentions were. "I cannot." Asha whispered, defiantly.

A sharp slap came from behind her, landing squarely against the back of her bald head. "Do as your mistress commands!" Elise barked.

Suddenly there was a soft hand entwined with hers, and she looked down to see Allison, still engrossed in her labors, pleading with her eyes for her to comply. Despite every instinct to resist, Asha knelt down and made herself ready. She knew it would hurt Allison more than it would her, if she was punished. So, as the stream of salty liquid began to fill her mouth, Asha did her best not to gag.

"Jayid jiddaan , kasis. qumt bi'iijra' mirhad maequl." Marga stated in a language that only Asha understood. Allison felt Asha shudder with the words, and she squeezed her hand that much tighter, reassuring her that she was there; there for her. Whatever was said had cut Asha deep, and Allison looked up to see tears mingled with the stray drops of urine that had escaped her open mouth. "Do not cry, cousin." Marga insisted. "I think you've found something you are actually good at." She grunted slightly as she finished. "Now clean me."

Asha leaned in close to her cousin's parted labia and began to lick away the tangy drops that remained on the glistening lips and pubic hair.

This at least I can do without dying a small death

, Asha thought as the soft flesh yielded under her tongue.

Marga writhed under the ministrations of her two servants, and Elise eventually withdrew from the room. Both women breathed easier with her gone, for although Marga was their Mistress, Elise was their taskmaster.

When finally, Marga had orgasmed at least twice and perhaps a third time, she pushed back on Asha's head and gently pushed away with her foot into Allison's dutiful tongue.

Kneeling side by side, the two slaves rested while Marga rose and dressed herself in a long elegant robe. When she slipped into the adjacent room, Allison couldn't help but speak.

"Are you alright?" Allison whispered.

"Yes. It was awful, but I am still here." Asha sighed.

"No talking!" Marga, having apparently heard the two whispering, chided them from the other room. The two jerked to a penitent attention as Marga reentered the room. "I really can't have my slaves tittering behind my back, now can I?" She insisted.

Both women shook their heads, although it was merely for self-preservation's sake. Neither dared look at the other as Marga swung around before them and sat on the edge of the bed.

"You both performed admirably this morning." Marga said, petulantly. "I was considering allowing you a day to yourselves, but Elise will have none of that." The womens' hopes were elevated and then dashed just as quickly by Marga's proclamation. "You will report back to the kitchens, both of you."

Asha and Allison quickly rose to their feet, bowed shallowly to their Mistress and backed out of the room.

"I cannot where this now." Asha sighed, an obvious stain on her lapel was becoming more apparent as it dried.

"We have only the one livery, Asha, and we cannot spare the time to rinse it now. Elise will be pissed if we're even a minute late." She brushed at the stain with her fingers, quickly pulling Asha into a small bath, that happened to be on their way to the kitchen. Grabbing a towel from the rack she wet it and quickly soaked the material in question. Although she knew it would not remove the spilled urine, diluting it might just dull the odor. "This will have to do, my love."

Asha smiled with the endearment. "Thank you, Allison." Asha grasped Allison's arm. "You truly are a gift. Although I have mixed emotions concerning my brother, his gift of you to me changed my life." Asha locked her gaze on Allison's eyes. "I love you."

"And I love you, Mistress, but we really must hurry."

When they arrived in the kitchen, they found Elise waiting impatiently at the counter by the back door. "How long could it possibly have taken you to walk from your Mistress' chambers to here?"

"I am sorry, miss, but I had to use the bathroom." Allison insisted, thinking it would be a valid enough excuse to warrant Elise's understanding.

Elise stood with her arms crossed, mulling over whatever punishment she might choose to inflict. She shook her head. "You really are a sight, the two of you; with your bald heads." She snickered. "Enough." She motioned for them to follow her outside into the alleyway.

The last time Allison had been in this alley was not too fond a memory; tied up tightly in a trash bag, the drawstring cinched firmly around her neck. She hoped that this would be nothing so demeaning.

"We are going for a little drive." Elise instructed, leading the women to a red Renault parked in an inobtrusive manner along the back of the house. "In the back."

Allison glanced over at Asha as the door was closed.

What on earth was Elise thinking?

There was an unconscious understanding between them as Elise pulled out of the drive and onto the public highway. Not too far into their journey, Elise was forced to stop at a signal, and both Allison and Asha knew that this was their chance.

Knowing that Elise was far to intelligent to leave the back doors unlocked, Allison reached over the seat and throttled Elise against the headrest to the car. Even though Elise was strong, her strength was nothing compared to Allison's, who had been toned to perfection by the countless hours of work and toil, trials and pain. Holding firmly but not too much so, she waited until Elise fell limp against the seat, and hoped that no one nearby saw the commotion in the car.

As soon as Elise lost consciousness, Asha leaned over the top of the console and pressed the lockout button. A split second later, she and Allison were walking as inconspicuously as possible until they slipped into a lane, and out of sight of the Renault.

"You didn't kill her, did you?" Asha asked, warily.

"No. She was still breathing, I swear." Allison returned. "What now?"

Although they had no doubt as to their motive once the car was moving, they now had no plan as to how to continue. Neither woman had any identifying papers, and their hairless heads made them stand out from the other pedestrians on the walk. The black and white liveries were also a dead giveaway.

"We have to find a place to hole up, at least until the inevitable mad search is over." Allison insisted.

"Perhaps this will help?" Asha held out a fan of pound notes of various denominations.

"Where did you..."

"Her purse was open." Asha grinned.

"God. I love you." Allison laughed. They disappeared into the Underground, and out of sight.

"You really are a sight to behold." Reginald walked carefully around Penny as she stood in the center of his study. He reached to caress her ultra-smooth skin, causing her to shudder with the sensation. Reginald may not have been anything to look at, but her animalistic reaction to his attentions was out of her control. "So responsive too."

She dared not say a word. In fact, she hadn't uttered a single syllable in ages, save for any thoughts she may have verbalized while alone in her container.

"You really must excuse my...over-exuberance, yesterday. Sometimes I just get carried away, and..." He laughed lightly to himself. "well, I don't owe you any explanation, do I?"

Unconsciously, Penny dropped her face to the floor. She wasn't certain if it was shame or resignation, but she was fairly sure it was the latter.

"Someone is very interested in you, you know." Reginald sighed. "But I really must know what your full potential is, before I simply vend you off, yes?" He ran his fingers along Penelope's smooth plastic labia, her moist center betraying her.

She couldn't help but allow a small gasp to escape her lips as his finger explored deeper within. "Please." Penny realized that she had spoken, and immediately cowered in preparation for a punishment, but none came. She opened her eyes and saw Reginald smiling, his free hand now wandering up to her voluminous breasts.

"You may speak, ah... 36361." Running his fingers over the identifying mark that branded her on the nape of her neck. "Seems so... oh, I don't know... clinical?" Reginald stood in front of her, having abandoned his fondlings.

"Penelope." She whispered, almost afraid to acquiesce to his suggestion.

"Penelope." He repeated. "And you don't have to whisper." He indicated a leather chair that sat at an angle to a smoldering hearth. After adding a log to the fire, he joined her on an adjacent chair, crossing his legs as he sat.

Penny felt almost more humiliated than she had being on display, sitting naked and so altered in so ordinary a pose.

"So, tell me, Penelope; how did you come to be in this state?" Reginald inquired, honestly.

For a moment, Penny said nothing; afraid to speak freely, when she had been trained to do exactly the opposite. Then, haltingly at first, she told her tale. The more she spoke, the easier the words came. Penny described her ordeal, from the beginning, even including her abuse of Allison. When she at last got to the processing plant in China, he stopped her.

"Your story is a compelling one, Penny. I can call you Penny?" Reginald asked with a modicum of respect, although Penny wondered how sincere it was.

Penny nodded her consent, although she didn't exactly know why, as she was nothing more than property. "Penny is fine, Sir."

"How would you feel about being sold?" Reginald asked, suddenly back in the role of dominant, and owner.

"Probably no different than I did when I was delivered into your service, Sir." Penny replied, dutifully, although with some element of truth.

"Good. You know your place, then." He replied. "Even though I am giving you the privilege of speech at the moment, you surely realize that that privilege could be rescinded."

Penny nodded, again. "Yes, Sir."

"You may speak when spoken to, and only in my presence, when we are completely alone. Is that understood?" He motioned for her to rise out of the chair, and approach him in his. Reginald gestured with his hands, obviously intending to instruct her to spread her legs. Without any warning, he thrust two fingers deep inside her vagina, causing her to shudder.

Penny had been denied any release by anything other than her own hand, and that while sequestered within her container. Everything she had been exposed to thus far had been about pain and humiliation. This was so much better. Her feelings for Reginald were indifferent to say the least, but her response to his ministrations was almost automatic.

Penny thrust her hips forward, opening herself further to his assault. Reginald took advantage fully, allowing another finger to slip past the loosening folds of her sex. She could feel her excitement running down the inside of her thighs, smelling the heady aroma of her own arousal.

Reginald watched her closely as he played, bringing his plaything ever closer to the edge, and then backing off just enough to prevent her orgasm. This continued for several minutes until Penny showed signs of fatigue. He knew that if he wanted to observe her at her best, he had best act quickly. With her opening well lubricated, he slowly inserted the entirety of his hand inside her, reaching around with the other to tempt her anal orifice with his thumb.

Feeling herself filled to the point of splitting, the sensation of Reginald's thumb pressing insistently against her ass, sent her spiraling upwards. Penny could feel the hand within her expand into a fist, and the thumb that had been pressing so impatiently was now deep within her bottom, twisting enticingly against the wall of her already distended vagina.

A shredded gasp escaped her lips and her first orgasm ripped through her body, from head to toe and then back again in convulsive waves. Penny lost count of the number of times she came, but as the fist and thumb pulled away, she moaned without any control, "Noooo!" collapsing on the floor at Reginald's feet.

Reginald stood, and walking to is desk beneath the grand bow window, finished the half empty glass of brandy. "Wonderful." He mentioned under his breath as he walked purposefully past her, closing the door behind him, and leaving Penny in a heap on the parquet floor.

"You ignorant moron!" Marga scolded, while Elise stood on the inside of the doorway to Marga's study, cowering.

Elise knew it was useless to try and explain the situation. To do so would only incur further beratement from her mistress. So, for the fifth time, she apologized. "I am so sorry, Miss..."

"Oh, shut up! How much did they take from your bag?" Marga blew an errant hair back into place.

"At least a hundred quid. Maybe more." Elise answered.

"I'm paying you far too well, and no error." Marga griped. "Well. How difficult can it be to find two bald girls on the streets of Kensington?" Marga indicated the door. "Do not disappoint me, Elise. I want them well in hand by tonight."

Elise bowed out of the room and scampered for the door. If she failed to find the two escapees, it was probably more than her job at stake.

Allison counted out one hundred twenty-five pounds; enough for them to make a hasty escape. Staying in London was probably out of the question, so, after purchasing matching hats from a bargain basement shop, they made their way to Paddington station. Getting as far away from London as was fiscally possible, that was the plan; for now.

They took the next available train west, deciding on Bristol/Temple Mead as the farthest they could travel, and still have money left over for lodging. The farther from the city they got, the more relief they felt, until finally Asha insisted that it was alright to relax.

Up until that point, they both had been Nervous Nellies, jumping at every sound and turning guardedly with every passenger that entered the carriage.

"Are you hungry?" Asha asked, reaching into her pocket for money.

"Let's wait until we're off the train. I hear that it's overpriced and horrid." Allison looked up at the digital clock on the front wall of the carriage and smiled. "Only another fifteen minutes, if we're on schedule."