Please don't forget to leave feedback on the stories you read!

Ellie May Pt. 03: Shipboard Slave Whoring

Post Reply
Carl Bradford
Platinum Member
Platinum Member
Posts: 243
Joined: Thu Oct 01, 2020 5:22 pm
Gender: Male

Ellie May Pt. 03: Shipboard Slave Whoring

Post by Carl Bradford »

(This story is set in a world where legalized, non-hereditary slavery is commonplace for serious crime, unredeemed debt, or voluntary self-indenture. All characters who are enslaved or have any intimate/sexual contact with slaves are 18 years of age or older. This is fiction; no one should ever be deprived of free will nor used sexually without his or her uncoerced permission.)

(Note: Joe Doe again provided the situation and much of the dialogue and descriptions for this story, for which my thanks. He granted permission for another guest appearance by Professor Sarah Hollister, this time AKA “Flame” the Prime-rated slave whore, as well as other characters from his “Big D” Slave Market universe. All errors redound to me, not Mr. Doe.)

(Previously, as the slave whore turns (turns tricks, that is): His man-hating step-mother and her equally-evil daughter, Ellie May, coerced Steve Wilson into slavery in Texas. Ellie May permitted her “property” to return for his sophomore year at Harvard but kept him under control by consigning him to the university’s Slave Kennels when not in class and by authorizing two women to use and hire him out: his ex-girlfriend, Stephanie, and renowned Slave Studies Professor Sarah Hollister.
As all devotees of Joe Doe are aware, Sarah’s business ability to advise slave merchants in maximizing their Profit Per Pussy is based on her own submissive psychology, which loves nothing better than being a naked sex slave servicing dominant men. In a previous story by Mr. Doe, Sarah allowed her own slave-processing system to reduce her to a horny slut, sold at auction and branded with the Big D on her scrumptious rump. Now, Sarah, freed and returned to academia, has developed a risky plan in which, masquerading as red-headed Sandy Foot Girl “Flame,” she will accompany slave Steve to serve on board the _Yo Ho Ho_, a floating slave brothel off Cape Cod. Sarah/Flame sees this as an opportunity to indulge her submissiveness while proving to various investors, especially Big D owner Jake Henry, that no one will recognize their acquaintances if they encounter them as naked slaves. To accomplish this, Sarah employed her dubious henchman Rango to deliver Flame and Steve to the ship. Once he had her stripped and collared, Rango had ordered Steve to help spit-roast the slaving professor before delivering both of them to bondage and prostitution. Despite all her protestations, the slut inside Sarah’s skull loved it.)

(Sarah Hollister’s perspective)

Sarah, legs spread wide, hands behind her head, knelt slave naked on the deck of the Yo Ho Ho, staring at the wooden planks. She didn’t dare to make eye contact with either Jake or Larry Black, the Wall Street investment banker she had introduced him to only a few weeks before. Recognition would ruin her plan to prove that acquaintances could be used as slaves without being recognized by the customers—not to mention add to her humiliation, if that were possible.

"You got grade A pussy here, Jake, and a pretty boat, but what I want to know is if this idea can scale up."

"We’re gonna need a bigger boat?" Jake said, laughing as he echoed the famous movie line. "Cuz I got plenty of pussy!"

"I do like the way her twat fur matches the teakwood planking," Larry said approvingly. "She wet-and-ready?"

"She can be," Jake said, motioning to Timmy with a wave of his drink.

Sarah felt Timmy's lash dangle down and brush her bottom. "Lather up," he said, simply.

Sarah's face was as red as her hair; using one hand to brace herself, she arched her back to raise her pussy high for the men's inspection, stroking her bean while finger-fucking herself for their amusement as the men continued their discussion. As they sipped their drinks and chatted, the two men, both of whom she knew so well, stared directly down at her, standing not more than three feet away. She couldn't believe that neither recognized her! The naked slut diddling herself on the ship’s deck bore scant resemblance to the insanely wealthy academic who had helped Jake design this adventure, but the risk of discovery was always there, and it was driving Sarah both horny and mad. The good news was that with her hot box raised up for their viewing pleasure, neither man was looking at her face. Assuming a face consumed with lust and submission would still be recognizable, that is.

"How's your drink?" Jake asked.

"Good and stiff," Larry replied. "Like the front of my pants. She is a hot little number, isn't she?"

"I suppose," Jake said dismissively. "Most Primes are just cum dumpsters, with no brains at all, and they'd rather finger their stinky hole than breathe. Can't you hear her, gaspin' for air?"

Sarah groaned in humiliation as the two men laughed at her. Didn't they understand that she HAD to do this, and that her labored breathing was caused by the awkwardness of having to thrust her pussy up for their obscene inspection while masturbating for their viewing pleasure? Did they think she WANTED to do this? (Well, OK, the character she was portraying wanted to, but Professor Hollister would never admit it to others and rarely even to herself.)

As if reading her thoughts, Timmy, a slight smile on his lips, moved into her viewing range, far enough away from the men so as not to interrupt their conversation, but close enough for Sarah to spot him out of the corner of her eye. He smiled at her and ran the wicked tails of his slave lash through his fingers, as a warning of what would happen if she failed to please. This was another slaver whom Sarah was convinced MUST recognize her. Three years ago, she had taught Timmy (in a very condescending way) how to auction slave meat, and then he had recognized her and made her dance at the end of his whip when he sold HER ass as a Sandy Foot Girl. She reminded herself that she needed to focus on the conversation, not the past, no matter how thrilling the memory.

"So, tell me about this big boat idea," Jake drawled.

"I'm thinking of a full-up cruise ship, actually. Virgin is doing adults-only cruises with sex toys in every cabin. Why not a slave cruise line? Yachts for the 1% are cute, and you can make money on it, but I can only make so much money renting that little red snapper down there, no matter how hot it might be. My investors want to park $50 million, which, no offense, would buy and sell your entire business. But if I get 4,000 paying guests on a big boat, and enough fuckable slave girls to guarantee a week of variety and all the snatch you can handle, and we keep 'em at sea for more than a week, then you're talking real money."

Sarah orgasmed at the idea of being lined up with a 1,000 other naked sluts on a deck of a ship, "greeting" the guests as they walked onboard. She’d read about “welcome aboard” ceremonies where cruise ship entertainers introduced themselves to the passengers, but this would be different: 4,000 guests on a boat, of all shapes, ages, and sizes, each anxious to fuck all her holes and make her perform!

"Where would you cruise?"

"I hadn't thought about it. Alaska maybe. Or the Mediterranean, or around Africa."

Sarah was close to coming and quickened her pace. Alaska would be freezing for a naked slave girl, not that Jake or Larry cared. And a ship near Africa with that many slave girls on it would be a prime target for pirates! Sarah was desperate to join the conversation, desperate to protest, desperate to share her expertise! But all she could do was grunt and groan as her quivering pussy burst into another impressive orgasm.

"Look. The little bitch's dripping on the deck."

"Hot damn. Look at 'er go," Jake said. Her randiness impressing even him. But he still was looking at her tits and crotch, not her face, which just gave Sarah an excuse to increase her masturbating.

Sarah's pussy spasmed like Jello as the men laughed at her, and she imagined herself for sale in some centuries-old African slave market, stripped and sold off the docks like the days of yore. The analytical side of her brain wanted to regain her freedom, but the submissive side of her “Flame” brain was overloaded by the prospect of being a genuine African or Arab slave slut—FOR LIFE!

*****

Over the next several days, Sarah was constantly aroused by the risk of being identified, the thrill of being used repeatedly, and the fear of being sold—permanently—in Africa. Her lawyer would dutifully turn over the information she had left to the Human Trafficking Agency, which would track down Sarah’s hired wrangler Rango and even Jake. That might get them in trouble, but not save her tight little branded tush from pirates and African slavers.

The first time that she wasn’t reserved for use, Timmy had leashed her and marched her naked butt to his crew quarters, where he proceeded to fuck her skull, pound her pussy, and finally ream her ass, all the time mumbling about this “bitch” “Sarah Hollister” whom she resembled, and how he had always wanted to ravish the little whore who had made his life miserable as an apprentice auctioneer. After that, she had trouble recalling what he said because the humiliation of being dominated by the little twerp whom she had taught (and who had later sold her at auction) gave her a crashing orgasm. And finally, after he flooded her mouth with white cum, she had to first exhibit and then swallow Timmy’s slime, an experience that simply fueled her lust for more humiliation.

Sarah had thought that she could blend in with the other girls but had never imagined that she'd be having near-constant close encounters with so many people that she knew. When Sarah had told Jake that she couldn't go on the cruise, that no-talent wannabee consultant Lindsay Williams had taken over and decided to stuff the initial cruises guest list with travel agents, celebrities, and industry professionals. How ironic, Flame thought, that she was sucking customers while Lindsay tried her usual suck-up tactics for free. The celebrities were embarrassing, as Sarah hated having to perform like a trained circus animal before artists and celebrities she admired, some of whom she had previously met during her jet-setting lifestyle.

There was one actress in particular she had met several times in Hollywood, at various parties. The actress knew Sarah, as the woman had portrayed a slave in a film and Sarah helped train her for the role. Professor Hollister actually had a picture of them together on her "ego wall" in Manhattan that displayed her with famous celebrities. On this cruise, the actress took a shine to “Flame” as a sort of pet slut. Flame gave the lady both a pedicure and an orgasm-inducing "slave massage" in the spa. Both women would have indignantly denied any Lesbian tendencies, but they certainly got off rubbing their nude bodies together.

Sarah couldn't believe that she didn't recognize her, but in their previous encounters Sarah had been training HER, and the actress was the naked Pleasure slut writhing under the crack of Sarah's whip. Always the professional, Sarah had remained fully dressed as she coached the famous celebrity on her block moves. Sarah had quite enjoyed putting the little bitch in her place, and took her far beyond what was required for the film, "to help her understand the character", she claimed. But karma is a bitch, as was this particular actress. Now, the famous actress used a strap-on to give Flame a very intense buggering, slapping her ass and shouting, "Ride 'em, cowgirl" as Flame writhed in submissive ecstasy under her. Like little Timmy, the actress referenced her former identity as a slave studies professor. “I did a movie where I portrayed a slave once. The slave trainer college professor laughed and laughed as she watched me get fucked up the ass. I didn’t understand why it was so funny, until I saw that stupid look on your face, slave girl. Truly, it is better to give than to receive.” As she came again, Flame thought the actress had no idea how wrong that sentiment was—giggling at the subjugation of another was fun, but being the subjugated one was far better.

At least Timmy had given Flame credit for her ability as a slut. "I love the way you swirl your tongue around the tip when I spurt. Reminds me of a Pleasure Slut I auctioned at The Big D, who had actually trained me. Of course, you're a lot skankier than she was."

*****

Another actor, whom she had known on stage in London but was more famous for his appearances in various television shows and science fiction movies, had Flame dress like an English school girl. Feigning outrage over her tattooed tramp stamps, her tweedy "teacher" welcomed her to "school" with six-of-the-best. The themed playrooms had been Sarah's idea, but it was Flame who found herself bending over the teacher's desk, being stripped for inspection in the Pirate Captain's cabin, or sucking the fat Sheriff's dick to get out of jail. Sarah was deeply humiliated, but Flame didn’t mind THOSE scenes one bit.

Professor Hollister was pleased to see all the ideas that she had given Jake implemented, although her vantage point as part of the entertainment was now quite different. Knowing that cruises often attract an older clientele, Sarah had adopted many cruise ship ideas for the HO ship. In the mornings, guests eating their breakfast on the promenade deck had the option of watching the slaves do their morning exercises, really auction block positions known as Slave Yoga. All of these exercises were, to put it mildly, obscene. There were different schedules for male, female, and mixed slave groups, for passengers who didn't care to see swinging dicks while they ate, or passengers who wanted to see nothing but. Flame hated it, as it was freezing cold and Timmy knew how to crack her ass with the whip without leaving a mark, which meant that he could do it over and over again, just to entertain the guests. Everyone loved to laugh at the red-headed slut dancing with a freshly-switched butt.

Timmy always made sure the slaves worked up a sweat, and afterwards the guests got to watch as they were hosed down with seawater (the North Atlantic was cold at all times, but especially in March!), and (at Sarah's suggestion) deloused with a special chemical Sarah had picked so that Flame and the other "dirty sluts" could "feel the burn." "Never let them forget they are livestock," Sarah urged, and under her wise stewardship, Flame did not forget.

Rather than a Broadway show, Sarah had sketched out her idea for a "slave circus." Flame performed wearing clown makeup, a rainbow colored "cover" collar, a flowered hat, and nothing else. The audience laughed as Flame the clown crowded into a tiny cage with a dozen other slave girls. The audience roared as Flame ended up with a bucket of jizz on her head. The sketches were humiliating and usually ended up with Flame bent over, getting her ass whipped, spanked, or reamed. What a silly slave clown she was!

Professor Hollister had suggested that when the ship's zip line wasn't in use, slave girls could be hung from it and left to struggle in their ropes to give the guests something to enjoy, while adding a bit of kinetic energy to the sea views. This wasn't nearly as bad as when she was tied to the prow of the ship as a "figurehead." She had also devised a "dunk pole," which would swing the bound slave girl out over the rail of the ship, then release her to fall head first into the freezing cold water. It was fully automated, and as Professor Hollister predicted, the older guests in particular loved it. (Many of the women took special joy in punishing her for attracting the stares—and hard-ons—of their husbands.) Fortunately, the rope around her feet allowed them to quickly haul her up, so Flame got to experience the sensation of drowning over and over again.

Sarah's idea to spice up trivia night by turning it into a game of "hangman" had seemed like a bit of a throwaway, but Flame had drawn the dumbest couple of the ship, a pair of rich old geezers who could barely hear the questions. As the supports were removed from under her feet, Flame found herself struggling to keep her balance, with her situation growing more precarious with every wrong answer. Seriously, who doesn't know who Harry Potter is?

When the inevitable happened, and the supports under her feet gave way after her befuddled team failed to identify the capital of France, the rope tightened around her neck and Flame found herself dancing on air. The crowd quite enjoyed Sarah's bicycle kick "dance", judging by all the people who filmed themselves next to her. As she tired, and her struggles grew more frantic, she peed on a few of them, which earned her a few hard spanks. She welcomed that, as the people holding her steady for her spanking gave her something to lean against, reducing the pressure on her noose even as they set her ass on fire. The game went on for another 20 minutes, which is a long time to jerk your body up to gasp for air. As she kicked her life away, gasping, Flame's mind buzzed into confusion, a mixture of terror and arousal. She began to think of her free civilian identity in the third person, as a distant, superior being who had put slave Flame into this situation out of an excess of sadism.

"Professor Hollister is the devil. She must hate slave girls, to think of all these terrible things to do to us. What a cruel bitch she is! No, no, I mustn't think that. She is an important free woman, and I am merely a slave. I am here to entertain the guests. See how they're laughing at me? Sarah is a genius. I am honored to serve her as a slave whore. I shouldn't jerk so hard. I don't know how Professor Hollister is going to explain the rope burns on her neck when (and if) she gets on shore."

The duality of thinking of herself as both Flame and Professor Hollister gradually faded, and before long Flame began thinking of Professor Hollister as a separate and distinct individual. She reasoned that this mindset helped her "performance," but the terrifying reality explained why no one seemed to recognize her—she was developing slave mind, thinking of herself as just Flame the horny sex toy. Professor Hollister was not on the boat, she was somewhere in Boston, or her apartment in Manhattan. She was an important free woman. Flame was a naked Pleasure Slut who got her thrills out of being subjugated by free people.

Flame was worth too much money to be destroyed wantonly. Worse, actual harm could impair the guest experience. However, if something terrible happened to Flame, Professor Hollister had convinced the board that established the Yo Ho Ho to take out business insurance. Compensation would be paid to the professor’s estate, and Flame would be thrown overboard as so much chum.

*****

(Steve Hollister’s Perspective)

Damn, I’m glad Professor Hollister came up with the plan to have me on this ship for spring break. Instead of being tortured in Texas by my stepsister, I got almost unlimited pussy to eat and sometimes fuck, plus tips! OK, some of this twat was past the “sell by” date, but after being kept constantly in a chastity belt for nine months, I found even the menopausal women were like filet minion to eat, and even better to shaft after their first climaxes. Several of these customers (what’s the feminine of a John—Jennine?) re-booked me every day of the cruise. And their husbands, who got to spend time shafting the female slaves, had been VERY generous in tips when I kept their wives orgasmically entertained.

OK, one middle-aged MILF named Martha Simmons got her rocks off by pounding my butt-hole with a (thankfully lubricated) strap-on, and that was as humiliating as it was uncomfortable. Again, I got a huge tip (not just the plastic kind) for letting her shaft me. I guess I’ve become too used to submitting to assertive, self-confident women like Professor Hollister and Ms. Simmons. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I shot a huge load just as she finished pegging me, with nobody around to film or jeer at me.

I suppose I should have felt some sense of justice when I saw how the “guests” were mistreating Professor Hollister. Still, she had been very kind and sympathetic to me, displaying a considerable sympathy for the mental trials a slave underwent. Not to mention that she had already given me a lot of time outside my chastity belt even before inviting me to this week-long fuck-fest. So, I couldn’t help feeling sorry for my fellow “slave” when she was repeatedly spanked, whipped, doused with seawater, and almost asphyxiated by a hangman’s noose. Not to mention edged and fucked in all three openings until she was shaking and dripping with desire, begging like the horniest slut to be face- and butt-fucked just to get off. I would always treasure the prelude to this cruise, when that slave wrangler actually ORDERED me to pound her velvet-lined cunt—talk about a dream “cum” true! (After her ordeal, the professor told me that most of the diabolical entertainments aboard ship were her suggestions, which made me wonder if she were really a masochist of some kind. At the time, however, I was getting a much better deal sexually than she did out of this “research.”) In fact, I worried that if something happened to her I wouldn’t get another chance to service mature women like this. Talk about the ideal job—this cruise ALMOST made up for all the suffering I’d experienced since Elly Mae put that 4-H project edger on me.

*****

(Sarah Hollister’s—really Flame’s—perspective)

The bar area was crowded with venture capitalists, slaving professionals, and business consultants. Sarah knew all of them, and this was the sort of venue where Professor Hollister thrived. It was the perfect locale for the professor to show her expertise, and Sarah usually formed a crowd around her, for she reveled in being the smartest girl in the room, especially when planning how to exploit female slaves. Only now, as Flame, SHE was the female being exploited, a source of both excitement and frustration to her.

Sarah had a crowd around her now, as well, for Flame was the naked centerpiece at a table near the bar where the wealthy and powerful were setting their drinks. On all fours, knees spread to shoulder length, and with a whip in her teeth, the red-headed slut kept perfectly still, not daring to move lest she jostle the table and spill one of the wealthy men's drinks. Spilling a drink might inspire one of the men to use one of crops, whips, or paddles that littered the table she was kneeling on. She knew they could whip her ass with impunity. After all, these were powerful and important people, and she was nothing but a naked pleasure slut. She felt her cunt dripping at the idea.

"I'm not sure why people want to go to a floating brothel when there are so many on land."

"You answered your own question. Novelty." Flame recognized the voice of Professor Lindsay Williams, of the University of Chicago. In Professor Hollister's eyes, she was an upstart, a poser, but now Lindsay was also a free woman while Flame was just a slut centerpiece. Lindsay was having a conversation with Bill Markup, an investor Sarah had used to help fund many ventures throughout the slaving world.

Picking up the riding crop, that skank Lindsay observed, "See how this bitch loves the whip? The great thing about a piece like this is you can lash her lazy ass and not worry about the marks, because you know she's not yours, and you don't have to wait for her to heal. You can just move on to the next rump."

"Why whip her?" Bill asked. "She looks pretty submissive to me."

Lindsay laughed. "Because it's FUN. The power is such a rush. She likes it too, see?" Lindsay withdrew the whip from Flame's cunt and displayed the 6 lashes at the end of the whip, now soaked in slave arousal juices. Raising the whip high in the air, Lindsay brought it down right across Flame's naked ass.

The pain was intense, and Flame drew far more attention than she cared to as she cried out with a humiliating little "slave yip", nearly dropping the whip from her mouth. Everyone in the room was looking at her face and her wild panicked eyes. She struggled to avoid moving, for fear of spilling drinks. But her butt twitched, begging for attention, for penetration.

Jake, the owner of the Big D, had been talking to Rachel, his accountant.

Professor Morgan, her mentor, was chatting with Sally Watson, who now worked for the slaving authority in Boston. Sally had interned with Professor Hollister, who had shown her the ropes. Sally had a very talented tongue, only this time she was more likely to get licked by Sarah/Flame rather than vice versa.

For a moment, Flame imagined herself fully dressed and greeting her former student and longtime admirer warmly. "Hello, Sally, nice to see you. I'm so pleased to see you doing so well."

Samuel Seawell, the infamous Boston slaving Judge, was talking to an older, "liberal" male senator Sarah had voted for. Again, she imagined the poised, elegant Professor Hollister saying, "I agree with you, Judge Seawell. The courts have gotten far too liberal, especially with bankruptcy cases. They'd do better to refer all those cases to you."

Using her riding crop, Professor Williams tapped the insides of Flame's thighs, forcing her to spread herself out even more widely. "Take this piece of red foxtail. She looks pretty skanky, with the nose and nipple rings and all, but some men like that." Lindsay Williams inserted the tip of the lash into the naked bimbo’s wet twat and began fucking her with the first four inches as they talked. Knowing what was expected of her, and how Lindsay liked to use the whip, Flame began humping away. It was humiliating, especially in front of Bill Markup, a friend she had called upon so many times. Everywhere she looked, there were people she knew, and they were all looking at her. Her cover was blown. They must know. They all knew!

"You liked that, didn't you, pretty wench?" Lindsay said, tapping Flame's ass to signal she wanted a response.

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress." Flame mumbled around the whip in her mouth, unable to control her arousal and dripping at the acute humiliation and vulnerability she felt.

Flame the slave slut gasped as Bill Markup grabbed her pussy, weighing and fondling it like it was a hunk of liver. "She's pretty wet all right. I don't like the tats and the studs in the tongue, but this is one sweet pussy. I suppose she does have her uses.”

Flame moaned yet again as Bill removed a cigar from his pocket and slowly inserted it into her wet pussy. He began rolling it around, gently pushing it in and out, infusing his $500 cigar with slave juices. "You're right about variety. I think Sarah Hollister wrote a paper on it, and said it was an important part of marketing. People like choices, even if they can only fuck one pussy at a time."

She gasped as Bill pumped in and out of her with the cigar. As he slowly rolled it around, his hand was brushing her clit, and she was close to coming.

For a brief moment, the horny slut kneeling on the table pictured herself wearing Lindsay's short red dress and drinking a Manhattan as they chatted. "Yes, Bill, my paper 'Variety Excites Appetite' was published in The Slaving Quarterly three years ago. It caused quite a stir, but I had the data to back it up. It's industry practice now, but that's the key. Be the follower, not the leader.”

Lindsay's sharp, nasally voice shocked her back to reality. "Sarah Hollister's washed up. She cancelled at the last minute, probably overbooked. She's getting too big for her britches, if you ask me."

Flame very much wished she had britches to be too big for. At least Jake defended her, even though he still didn’t recognize her. “Lindsay, you can say what you like about Sarah Hollister, but she really has an uncanny understanding of both the business and the psychology of slavery—Sarah’s made me a lot richer than I would have been otherwise, and she’s certainly dedicated to the slave trade.” While he was speaking, the businessman casually finger-fucked the slut, causing her butt to hump the air helplessly. Thank heavens, she thought, somebody recognizes my brains and not just my boobs!

In the mirrored wall of the bar she saw an actor... Ben someone? He was from Boston... had won an Oscar. He was standing behind her, smiling and sipping his drink. Some girl was chatting him up, but his eyes were glued to the slave's twat, watching as she humped the cigar.

It was so humiliating. Sarah Hollister had always wanted to meet him, to ask for his autograph. It was a thrill to see him looking at her, but not like this. Not like this.

Helpless to do anything but hump the cigar, Flame bit down on the whip as the little upstart bitch trashed her. "Sarah steals all her ideas from me. That's why Jake had me come aboard at the last minute, as her replacement, when Dr. Ego cancelled. She thinks far, far too much of herself, if you ask me."

Flame was left to hump the air as Bill withdrew his cigar, causing Ben to laugh. Helpless, she looked into the famous man's twinkling eyes.

"Randy little slut, isn't she?" he said, joining the conversation.

"Yes, but with the mark of quality.” Flame gasped as Bill spread her cheeks to reveal the humiliating Big D brand between her butt cheeks. "We're looking at a real Sandy Foot Girl."

Ben laughed. "I'm impressed. I'd tap that."

By this time, Bill Markup had withdrawn the marinated tobacco from her dripping crotch and lit it up. "Nice flavor. You know, I might fuck her after all."

"You'd better hurry," Lindsay said. "I actually ordered a bit too much pussy. When we get back, we're going to do a ship-to-ship transfer and load 10% of the sluts onto a cargo ship bound for the Dubai, including this little twat. She didn't make my cut."

Flame bit down on the whip between her teeth as Lindsay caressed her helplessly exposed pussy. "Bon Voyage, my little red foxtail."

The slave's eyes widened in panic as she looked around the room. She thought she had been spotted, but she had not. Her plan, to blend in seamlessly with the other girls, had gone seriously sideways, and dye job or not, it seemed like her hot red snapper was the center of attention everywhere she went. She couldn't break cover now. She had totally humiliated herself and performed like the most shameless of pleasure sluts, giving the dozen slaving judges aboard more than enough cause to make her enslavement real.

But the alternative she was experiencing was even worse. No one recognized her, so she was just another piece of slave pussy to be sold to the Arabs. A trickle of cold sweat ran down Flame's back as the harsh reality set in.

Lindsay's right, she thought. I'm slave pussy, a skanky tattooed Ho with a whipped ass and a hot twat, headed for Dubai. Lindsay will get to replace me, after all. Sarah knew that somehow, she had to get off the list, and save her ass. Literally her ass.

*****

At least she finally got to meet the famous film actor, who leashed her and led her, crawling, to his cabin. Ben smiled at Flame as he continued stroking her pussy. Reaching around, he took the whip out of her teeth.

"You can talk with a whip in your teeth. You didn't drop it even during your slave-gasm. I am impressed," he said, as Flame panted under his touch, her ringed tits rising and falling.

"Thank you, Master," she said, dipping my head in submission. "I give obedience where 'tis truly owed."

"Shakespeare," he said, continuing to stroke my sex. "Impressive, particularly for a Pleasure Slut. I noticed before you were listening intently as Professor Morgan was explaining his study on the correlation between interest rates and enslavements. I couldn't follow the math, but you seemed to hang on every word. Perhaps you can explain it to me."

"I am nothing but a stupid slave girl, Master," Flame said, looking down.

"Bullshit," he said, tapping that prime ass smartly with the crop. "Answer the question, slave girl."

"He was describing a Baysean analysis, master. It's a statistical paradigm mathematicians use to make inferences--"

Ben's smile broadened as he began to stroke Flame’s clit faster. "Umm... inferences -- you create a probability distribution of the unknown...oh! Oh! ... parameter, or parameters. Oh, Master!”

Ben laughed as the slut exploded into another slave-gasm in his hand. In that moment, he owned her pussy, her mind, every fiber of her being. His fingers were driving Flame crazy. He didn't really care about her pleasure, but it was the slave’s reaction that amused him. Sarah realized in that moment that the powerful actor was mocking her, making it clear to everyone that no matter how smart she was, her pussy was the only part of a slave whore that mattered. Even in the bar, everyone she knew had been looking, laughing as the handsome actor made her come like a gusher all over his well-manicured hand.

"Your face is as red as your hair," he noted, smiling. "But that's what gets you off, isn't it? The humiliation? Everyone looking at you while you embarrass yourself? Let's do it again!"

"Please, master. No! No! Oh! Oh!" Ben laughed as she came on his hand again, her whole body shaking with shame, humiliation, and pleasure.

That was only the beginning. Over the next two hours, the actor proved that he was a master at arousing women, repeatedly edging the helpless, love-lorn slut. He only spoke a few times: “Suck my cock, slut.” “Slave 4’s—reach back and spread ‘em.” “Beg me to ream your tight little ass.” She did it all and was thrilled, but he only let her come once. At the end, he demanded that she clean his cock, still soiled from its trip up her Hershey Highway. While she serviced him, he chatted on the phone with his movie star girlfriend.

At the end of the phone call, Ben hung up and discharged into her mouth, then demanded that she display the cum on her tongue before he consented for her to swallow the disgusting stuff. Flame (Sarah had receded under the influence of slave mind) tried to persuade him to intervene on her behalf, hoping that she'll be so amazing that he'll want to keep her around.

"May I ask a question, Master?"

"Slaves have questions, Masters have answers," he said enigmatically.

"Why did you choose me? You could have had any woman on the boat."

"Indeed, I could. But I wanted you," he said, kissing her gently on the forehead.

Resting her head on his shoulder, he gently stroked her hair. Sensing her moment had come, she said, "Master, I am going to be sold to Dubai tomorrow. I'm so frightened! It is a terrible place, and I'll never be seen again."

"So?" he asked. "I'm not your owner."

"But you chose me. You chose me because I'm the most beautiful!"

"No. Men don't choose slave girls because they are the most beautiful. Men choose slave girls because when they are done with them, they go away."

Ben used his foot to kick her out of the bed and onto the floor. She stared at him, naked and perplexed.

"Master's don't serve slaves," he said, regarding her coolly. You were a good lay, but you're a slave girl, so I don't have to pretend that I love you. You can go now and be thankful I'm too tired from fucking you to lash your bottom. I'm going to take a shower. Enjoy Dubai."

Flame sat on the floor, mouth agape, as the handsome movie's star bare backside disappeared into the bathroom.

*****

Fortunately, after her sexual skills failed to impress the guests, the cold system of the National Slave Registry and its Slave Identification Numbers stepped in.

After six days of frantic fucking, sucking, reaming, and self-abasement Flame along with the other rejected sluts was lined up on her knees, hands bound behind her, preparing for transfer to a horrible fate and quaking with horror. Playing slave was one thing, being sold overseas to be a slave for life was quite another. Before the transfer, however, Rebecca, the accountant, checked the SIN numbers against the national data base. Working her way down the line of slaves, she finally came to the terrified slave professor in disguise—assuming that a slave collar and complete nudity is a disguise.

"Lip", Rebecca said, not even bothering to look at Flame. She checked her SIN tattoo against her iPad. "Not even close," she muttered. "That's weird."

Taking out her cellphone, Rebecca used her scanner to read the SIN inside Flame’s lip. The slave knelt before her, naked, legs spread, showing her the registration number on her inside lower lip. As she realized her SIN was being checked by Rebecca, the girl whom she had once mentored, a rivulet of sweat ran down her back.

"What the fuck?" she whispered, staring at her phone. "Why would this Pleasure Slut have Sarah Hollister's SIN?"

She looked at Flame, then at the registration pictures of Sarah on the phone. She did this several times. "How did this get screwed up? Did Sarah register this bimbo, and give her own number by mistake? Not only that, but the little whore has the same birthmark on her left shoulder that’s listed for Sarah. The only thing different is their hair color. I mean, what are the odds?"

Flame said nothing, and as the baffled accountant left the room she wondered if Rebecca would try to contact Sarah to find out what happened and discover why this Pleasure Slut was sharing her number. Rebecca wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, she thought.

Flame told herself that Rebecca was foolish not to recognize Sarah’s little prank. Flame was nothing more than an exceptionally clever Halloween costume—a costume that had damn near gotten her sold into a harem! But as she knelt naked, awaiting her mistress’s return, she had a peculiar thought. Perhaps it was her professorial attire that was the costume.

Come to think of it, Flame/Sarah realized, with a start, she’d been going at this all wrong. She'd been constantly nervous about being discovered, but the real thing she should have worried about was that slave mind had made her into this entirely different person, the tattooed pleasure slut, who could be used by anyone and disappear without a trace. Despite or perhaps because of the suffering of seawater baths, strangulation, and lack of sleep, she had become obsessed with pleasing people sexually, with being the perfect slave slut who got pleasure out of giving it to others, even (or perhaps especially) when those others were cruel to her and treated her like a whore. Even people who know her well and could see every inch of her body missed the obvious, because the idea that the elegant Professor Hollister had become this naked Pleasure Slut was simply inconceivable. Son-of-a-bitch; she had proven her hypothesis but not realized that by becoming a slave she had also become a different person. Now, how to explain that in academic terms?

****

Unable to eliminate the conflict between SINs and the National Data Base, Rebecca told Jake that they would have to return that red-headed slut to the Boston Big D; they didn’t have clear title to sell her ass. Lindsay was furious that this little bimbo was messing up her plan to maximize profit per pussy and show up Sarah Hollister. Jake, however, was adamant:

“Lindsay,” he explained, patiently. “When you have more experience in the slave trade, you’ll understand this. Sarah would get it in a minute, but for your benefit, let’s just say that any profit we might make selling Flame would be offset by the federal hassle we’d get for disposing of a slave when we don’t have clear title. Let it go.” Flame was relieved, and Sarah was secretly overjoyed that, even when she was a naked slave slut, she still showed up Lindsay’s incompetence and Jake still acknowledged her expertise.

*****

By the end of the cruise, both Sarah and Steve were both well-fucked and completely exhausted, looking forward to a return to Harvard and relative comfort. Rango took charge of the two naked, cuffed slaves when they were returned to the pier behind the Boston Big D and marched them back to her little car. Thank heavens, thought Sarah, emerging from the slave mind haze of Flame as he unlocked her cuffs and her freedom seemed to approach.

Of course, she thought, Rango wants one final pound of flesh, or should she say one final piece of ass? When they arrived at her car, he ordered the two slaves to kneel, thighs open and fingers interlocked behind their heads, shivering naked in the brisk wind.

“Before I give you the key fob to Professor Hollister’s fancy-ass car, there’s one more treat I promised.” Gesturing at Sarah/Flame, Rango commanded “slave 4’s, whore.” He paused, then added “First, you can suck this slave’s dick, make it both wet and hard, after which you will beg him to cram it up your winking asshole, got it, slut?” He laughed, enjoying being in total control of the once-assertive professor.

Crap, thought Sarah as she opened her mouth and Steve stood in front of her. One more thing I have to do in the name of good research! Her tongue stroked up the bottom side of his erect prick—how the hell could it be so stiff after he’s been planking old women for nine days, she wondered? Then she realized that this was really a compliment—Slave Steve had a boner because he was turned on by the Prime piece of ass that Rango had just offered him. OK, she thought, after nine days of sexual use and abuse, I still look good enough to give an exhausted dick a stiff boner—and a good one, at that.

For two minutes, she energetically pumped that penis in and out of her mouth, all the while looking adoringly up into his face, silently telling him how much she enjoyed being used. Come to think of it, compared to all the over-the-hill cock she’d had to swallow on the cruise, Steve WAS kinda young and cute. She brought her hands up to fondle that ball sack, and even stopped long enough to tongue his balls, trying to edge him. When his ramrod seemed fully erect and extended, dripping pre-cum, she slowly withdrew her mouth, kissed the head gently, returned her hands behind her head so her chest stuck out proudly, and repeated, dutifully,

“I beg you to cram that monster love-stick all the way up my winking asshole, master.” And she winked to emphasize her asshole and her compliance.

Without even replying, Steve hurried around to her back end, knelt between her widespread thighs, parted her prime-rated buttocks, and used a syringe from Rango to blast a load of cold lubricant into her. Then he gently worked his rod up into her bowels just below the D brand that certified to the quality of what he was using. Rando waited just long enough for Steve to get fully mounted before he demanded that she suck HIS cock. A good time was had by all—and in this case, the good time went by the name of Flame. Damn, she thought, TWO nice cocks in me at once. I could get to like this.

*****

Even though Rebecca left several urgent messages on Sara's phone, it wasn't until the day after the ship was docked back in Boston that her friend and former mentor returned her call.

"Hi Rebecca, it's great to talk to you. No, I'm sorry I didn't call you back. I was actually on a ski trip in Austria, and I took a bit of a tumble. I was in the hospital for a few days, so I couldn't call. No, I'm fine, I just have some bruises on my bottom and a burn on my neck where the scarf caught me. I'm just taking the week off to rest up. Flame? Oh yes, thank you for returning her to me. No, I'm very glad you didn't let Lindsay sell her! You definitely did the right thing. I have too much use for her here. Really? I'm glad the cruise went so well. I heard the guests rather liked my ideas. No, I didn't talk to Jake, but I... hear things."

"No, I heard Lindsay was taking credit for my ideas. I've already spread the word, and guess who isn't getting tenure? Yes, I agree, a slave paddling would do her a world of good, and I have a plan for that, too. I never forget."

"Flame has my SIN number? Really? Geez, I never checked it. When I had her enslaved, they must have got the owner’s number instead. You're right, I should have registered her at The Big D. Nobody in Boston knows what they're doing—I need to send Flame back to Texas for some serious slave training. I'll get it fixed, but there's no hurry. I'm not selling her, and it's not like anyone is going to think I'm a slave, ha-ha. Yeah, that is totally ridiculous."

"No, Flame isn't for sale, but if you send me the offers you have I'd really like to read them. Tell them she might be available for rental, but I'd like all of the juicy details on what they'd like to do with her so I know how much wear and tear my property will suffer. Ha, yes, maybe I'll let her read them, that's a good idea. Let the little slut sweat it out, ha-ha."

"Actually, I think the board meeting will go really well. One of the reasons I had Flame on the cruise was that people talk freely in front of a slave, so I know what everyone on that boat was thinking. Ha! Yes, now that you mention it, I AM a genius, Rebecca, and thank you for noticing. It takes one to know one. But let's keep it our little secret, okay? I love it when men underestimate us and what we're capable of. All they see is a cute package to fuck, after which their brains dribble out of their cocks—but you know that already, right?"

(The End?)
These users thanked the author Carl Bradford for the post (total 7):
jeepsterdtrelskyjean.amelotZeeChromosomeElJefeFreight_Trainimreadonly2

dtrelsky
Bronze Member
Bronze Member
Posts: 38
Joined: Mon Oct 28, 2019 9:37 am
Gender: Male

Re: Ellie May Pt. 03: Shipboard Slave Whoring

Post by dtrelsky »

I really enjoyed these last two chapters. Getting to revisit Sarah Hollister was great. I liked the reference to the people behind her grant being the bidders from her Anychance Auction who trained her during their court appointed time with her. I am surprised she didn't make the cut versus the other slaves considering she is a Prime Sandy Foot Girl though.
I'd love to see her follow through on getting Lindsay the slave paddling she needs. Of course Sarah could help Rebecca get the training she needs to portray a convincing slave to help her in future tests, after all, another point of view would provide more data to prove her experience wasn't a fluke. Maybe some coeds need some extra credit to maintain a scholarship or something and find a helping hand in the form of one Dr. Sarah Hollister who needs subjects to help her research.
I was a bit confused why her SIN matching Flame's was the holdup on her sale rather than the note in her file that no sale was allowed without the owner's approval. Seems bad form to borrow someone's slave and then casually sell them off in another country. A rather flagrant disrespect of someone and their property. I'd imagine someone who keeps trying to sell what doesn't belong to them would end up in hot water themselves.
The actress she trained using her as she was used was fun too. I've always liked the idea of actresses getting roles as pleasure slaves and what sort of things they would experience during the filming and even preparation before filming starts. Maybe a difficult actress could find herself playing a lesser role that was originally being filled by a real pleasure slave while they in turn get the chance to take her place and make a name for themselves in the industry, something they could benefit from when their contract ends if they are lucky.
Oh, the thing about the cruise having insurance so even if she died they could just chuck her overboard doesn't seem to fly with the plan to get girls to sign FINOs for the cruises, they would need a certain expectation of safety I'd think.
Anyways great short adventure here with lots of interesting points of interest that could be expanded on some day.
These users thanked the author dtrelsky for the post (total 3):
Carl BradfordZeeChromosomeTauriRed

jeepster
Platinum Member
Platinum Member
Posts: 382
Joined: Sat Oct 26, 2019 12:42 pm
Location: Canada
Gender: Male

Re: Ellie May Pt. 03: Shipboard Slave Whoring

Post by jeepster »

That was smoking hot! Great job Carl! But that can't be the end, rent Flame out in the next chapter!
These users thanked the author jeepster for the post (total 2):
Carl BradfordZeeChromosome

jeepster
Platinum Member
Platinum Member
Posts: 382
Joined: Sat Oct 26, 2019 12:42 pm
Location: Canada
Gender: Male

Re: Ellie May Pt. 03: Shipboard Slave Whoring

Post by jeepster »

Or ship her back to Texas so Rebecca can play with her and get the whole story! And maybe play slave slut herself!

ZeeChromosome
Platinum Member
Platinum Member
Posts: 219
Joined: Thu Jul 29, 2021 5:42 am
Location: Northern Virginia, Just North of Real Virginia
Gender: Male
Contact:

Re: Ellie May Pt. 03: Shipboard Slave Whoring

Post by ZeeChromosome »

Carl Bradford wrote: Mon Nov 08, 2021 5:43 pmDid they think she WANTED to do this?
Nobody would think that... nobody. Maybe Carl would. He's gullible.
Carl Bradford wrote: Mon Nov 08, 2021 5:43 pmThis wasn't nearly as bad as when she was tied to the prow of the ship as a "figurehead."
I dunno why this is my favorite image from the whole series. It just is.
Carl Bradford wrote: Mon Nov 08, 2021 5:43 pmFlame moaned yet again as Bill removed a cigar from his pocket and slowly inserted it into her wet pussy. He began rolling it around, gently pushing it in and out, infusing his $500 cigar with slave juices.
Thank you, Bill Clinton, Leader of the Free world, for inventing and popularizing this particular perversion!
Carl Bradford wrote: Mon Nov 08, 2021 5:43 pm"No, I heard Lindsay was taking credit for my ideas. I've already spread the word, and guess who isn't getting tenure? Yes, I agree, a slave paddling would do her a world of good, and I have a plan for that, too. I never forget."
I'm looking forward to Lindsey's CUM-uppance!
These users thanked the author ZeeChromosome for the post (total 3):
Carl BradfordjeepsterElJefe

ElJefe
Silver Member
Silver Member
Posts: 64
Joined: Fri Dec 04, 2020 9:59 pm
Gender: Male

Re: Ellie May Pt. 03: Shipboard Slave Whoring

Post by ElJefe »

Alas, poor Lindsey. We know her well.
These users thanked the author ElJefe for the post:
ZeeChromosome

Carl Bradford
Platinum Member
Platinum Member
Posts: 243
Joined: Thu Oct 01, 2020 5:22 pm
Gender: Male

Re: Ellie May Pt. 03: Shipboard Slave Whoring

Post by Carl Bradford »

I need to give credit where it's due: all of the dialog and images that Zee and ElJefe lauded were the product of the fertile (sex hormone soaked) imagination of Joe Doe; I contributed some lewd images of my own, but my primary role in these three stories about Steve and Sarah was as the script writer who stitched Joe's images together. If anyone has specific ideas for a sequel in which Lindsay gets what's coming to her and (if possible) Steve gets his freedom, please send them to me through this site's messaging system. Or post them on this thread if you think they're suitably lascivious!
These users thanked the author Carl Bradford for the post (total 2):
jeepsterZeeChromosome

jeepster
Platinum Member
Platinum Member
Posts: 382
Joined: Sat Oct 26, 2019 12:42 pm
Location: Canada
Gender: Male

Re: Ellie May Pt. 03: Shipboard Slave Whoring

Post by jeepster »

So? When does Flame get her anchor brand?
These users thanked the author jeepster for the post:
ZeeChromosome

jeepster
Platinum Member
Platinum Member
Posts: 382
Joined: Sat Oct 26, 2019 12:42 pm
Location: Canada
Gender: Male

Re: Ellie May Pt. 03: Shipboard Slave Whoring

Post by jeepster »

Ok just realized something. Sarah's reason for this adventure was to prove a woman wouldn't be recognized by her friends/ coworkers and she was going to prove it! She told Jake her hypothesis and he laughed at her. So when does she show Jake and the rest the evidence? It would be humiliating but she get off on that!
These users thanked the author jeepster for the post (total 2):
ZeeChromosomeCarl Bradford

Carl Bradford
Platinum Member
Platinum Member
Posts: 243
Joined: Thu Oct 01, 2020 5:22 pm
Gender: Male

Re: Ellie May Pt. 03: Shipboard Slave Whoring

Post by Carl Bradford »

I have yet to consult with Mr. Doe about another episode, although my colleagues have suggested some innovative experiences involving leasing Steve out for the summer to be used by a dominant woman (anything's better than going back to be tortured by Ellie May). I imagine that Professor Hollister would come to the next meeting of her whore ship board of directors with her blond hair color restored and tell them all the things they said in front of her, then leave them guessing as to how she passed (perhaps as a passenger or crew member?) In private, of course she would confess to Jake just for the humiliation she'd feel, and perhaps service him again to refresh his memory. Does that work?
My colleagues and I have also toyed with the idea that, in order to get tenure by learning as much as Sarah about the business, her sniveling rival Lindsay might have to self-indenture for a while--and somehow end up on the ship?
These users thanked the author Carl Bradford for the post (total 2):
ZeeChromosomejeepster

jeepster
Platinum Member
Platinum Member
Posts: 382
Joined: Sat Oct 26, 2019 12:42 pm
Location: Canada
Gender: Male

Re: Ellie May Pt. 03: Shipboard Slave Whoring

Post by jeepster »

Here's what I got in the shower this morning. Sarah goes to the board meeting and tells them how she scammed all of them. Of course they want proof, so she shows the security camera video from the boat. That's not good enough cause they don't believe that's her. So she is forced to shed Sarah and show Flame in the boardroom but even her standing slave naked isn't enough so Jake brings in Rango and Steve. Flame is forced to perform!
These users thanked the author jeepster for the post (total 2):
Carl BradfordZeeChromosome

Post Reply