Slaves Don't Need Visas Ch. 32

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32. The New Normal

The sun blazed down on the poolside, turning the water into a shimmering canvas of light. Palm trees rustled with their leaves as Melissa and Markus made their way towards the entertainment area of the housing complex. The sand was warm underfoot, a contrast to the cooler air by the water.

Off to the side, near the beach volleyball court, Kaya and Liana were in the midst of playful activity, tossing a volleyball back and forth, their laughter mingling with the sounds of the pool. But as Markus and Melissa approached, curiosity sparked in their eyes. They glanced over, exchanged a quick look, and then made their way back to where Horst and Werner lounged.

As the group converged, Kaya and Liana knelt before their masters, their previous joviality replaced by the expected posture of submission. Their eyes, however, held a trace of that earlier light, perhaps intrigued by the new dynamic with Melissa now under Markus's ownership.

"Good to see you both here," Markus greeted the pensioners with a tone of pride. "Thought it'd be nice to catch some sun."

Horst, his eyes crinkling with a knowing smile, responded, "Ah, Markus, you've brought Melissa. She looks well under your care."

Markus and the pensioners usually conversed in German when they were among each other. But when others were present, they switched to English so everyone could understand them.

Melissa's heart sank. She had been here many times to pass the time. That was when she had been ‘owned’ by Arbek, waiting for her collar to come off. Arbek hadn’t taken her enslaved status seriously, so she had been allowed to do whatever she wanted. Sure, she had to be naked, the rules of Grabesh demanded that, but apart from that she had more or less behaved as one of the group. For the most part, she had hung out with Arbek, Tariq, Amina and Zahara. Markus had joined them sometimes, but he often did his own thing or hung out with the pensioners. That had suited Melissa. She didn’t really care about Markus, and ever since they had stopped dating, she would have preferred not to see him at all. And that he was still seeing her naked every day bothered her, but she tried to ignore him as much as possible.

But things had changed since her repossession. The bank had sold her to Markus, and now her place was with him. He hadn’t given her any guidance on what to do exactly, just the vague notion that he wanted her to be his girlfriend, and she should ‘make it work’ somehow.

She was uncomfortable that he was now leading her to the pensioners. No longer as the self-directed accidental slave, but as his property, a woman who was his to command.

There was no doubt in her mind that the pensioners knew that Markus had had sex with her. Just as they had sex with their sex slaves. She felt as if Markus was presenting her in her naked form before them to show them his conquest, the woman he had sex with these days. The woman who could not refuse any of his wishes.

—

The pensioners' eyes turned to Melissa, examining her with a mix of curiosity and appraisal. "How are you, Melissa?" Werner asked, his tone polite but carrying an undercurrent of interest.

"I'm... managing," Melissa replied, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her true feelings.

"And what is it like for you to be Markus's slave now?" Horst inquired, leaning forward slightly as if to catch every nuance of her response.

Melissa paused. She felt the eyes of everyone on her. "It's... an adjustment," she said. She chose her words carefully before Markus. "Everything's changed so fast."

"I heard you had been repossessed and were about to be auctioned off," Werner probed. “That was close, huh? Good that Markus got you out of there.”

Melissa looked at Markus, then back at Werner, her expression complex. "Yes, I'm grateful I wasn't sold off. But gratefulness and this," she touched the steel collar around her neck, "are different things."

Horst leaned in, his brow furrowed with concern. "Melissa, what do you mean? Do you not agree with your arrangement?"

Melissa hesitated, her gaze flicking to Markus before she answered. "I... I didn't have much choice. Markus bought me to save me from being auctioned off, but 'agreeing' feels... complicated when there's no real alternative."

“Ah, I see,” Werner nodded, his eyes sharp. "So, you're saying you're here under duress, not by your own free will?"

"Yes," Melissa confirmed, her voice low but firm. "I'm thankful for being saved from repossession, but this," she touched her collar again, "was not my choice."

Horst exchanged a look with Werner, both men processing the implications. "We need to be careful, Markus," Horst said, his tone cautionary. "Well, you need to be careful, Markus. Having your fun here is one thing, but keeping one of us as a slave is another. When you go back, you can get into trouble for this, you know?"

Werner added, "What is done in Grabesh should stay in Grabesh. You’re risking this spilling over into your lives at home."

—

Markus, now visibly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, shifted in his seat. "I understand your concerns. It's... it's not straightforward, but we'll manage." He looked at Melissa, his voice softening but with an edge of command. "Mel, why don't you join Kaya and Liana?"

Melissa's eyes widened, her mouth slightly agape. "But, Markus..." she whispered, hoping for an exception, a sign that perhaps this new chapter with him might be different.

Markus leaned in, his voice low, meant only for her. "I know, Mel. But here, in public, it's different. Remember what we discussed?"

She sighed, understanding the underlying message. His words from the night before echoed in her mind, a warning of the public face she would have to wear. Her eyes moved from Markus to Kaya and Liana, who were quietly following the conversation as they knelt next to each other before the free people in the group.

With a heavy heart, Melissa walked over to them. As she walked, her steps felt like a betrayal of who she felt she really was. Her body trembled with the weight of this cultural expectation of her. She understood that Markus's real intention was to use this cultural practice not just to blend in, but to silence her. He was hoping that the experience of kneeling before them would keep her from voicing further discontent.

The sun cast a warm glow on her skin as she knelt beside Kaya, with the sand hot beneath her knees. A gentle breeze teased her hair, brushing it across her back, as if wanting to draw the gaze of others to her.

The position was awkward, unfamiliar, and humiliating, especially here where previously, despite her official situation as a slave, she had considered herself their equal and been treated as one despite her enforced nudity. Her tense posture contrasted with the playful ease of Kaya and Liana, as she felt the weight of her situation as she sensed people’s eyes upon her that she had no right to shield herself from.

—

Werner, ever the pragmatist, leaned back, his gaze shifting from Markus to Melissa. "You know, Markus, we've seen many come here with grand ideas of living the local life. But remember, what happens in Grabesh doesn't always stay in Grabesh when you go back to the West."

Markus nodded, understanding the underlying warning. "I know, Werner. It's... it's not straightforward."

Horst chuckled, his voice low but carrying an air of seriousness. "There was this fellow, from Germany like you, Markus. He got too comfortable here. Thought he could bring a piece of Grabesh back home. Ended up in court for human trafficking. His life was never the same after."

Melissa, listening intently, felt a flicker of hope in this grim tale. Maybe it could serve as a cautionary tale for Markus. She spoke up, her voice steady but tinged with curiosity rather than accusation. "What happened to him?"

"He thought he could keep his slave once back home. Of course, his 'slave' wasn't happy about it. She went to the authorities, and he was arrested shortly after," Horst explained, his eyes on Markus to gauge his reaction.

Werner added, "It's not just about the local laws here, Markus. It's about what you're bringing back. You need to think about the endgame. Once you're back in the West, Melissa could go to the police, to a lawyer. This could ruin you."

Markus looked uncomfortable, his gaze drifting away then back to Melissa, who maintained her kneeling position, her back straight despite the weight of the conversation. "I understand. But I'm not planning on taking her back like this. I just need... time to figure out how we can be together."

Melissa listened, her heart beating with a mix of resentment and strategy. She knew Markus was caught between his feelings and the reality of Western laws. "So, what are you suggesting, Markus? How do we make this work without breaking laws... or hearts?"

Werner leaned forward, his tone advisory. "You need to think about how to disentangle yourself from this before you return. Maybe consider how you can give her freedom here, so she has no reason to cause you trouble back home."

Horst nodded, "Or at least, ensure there's no evidence or reason for her to do so. Because once you're back, everything you've done here could come back to haunt you."

Markus nodded, a silent acknowledgment of their counsel. "I understand. I'll handle it. Mel, just trust me a little longer."

Melissa didn’t know what to say. She cast a pleading glance towards Horst and Werner, then her gaze dropped to the sand in front of her.

—

Horst leaned back in his chair, looking out over the sunlit poolside. "Anyway, we've been here for a while. I think it's time for a refreshment," he said.

Werner nodded in agreement, wiping sweat from his brow. "Yeah, I could use an ice tea," he replied.

Turning towards Markus and Melissa, Horst continued with a hint of a smile, "Markus, Melissa, there's a nice café close to here. Do you two lovebirds want to join us?"

—

Markus nodded toward Melissa, releasing her from her kneeling position. She got up, joined him, and they started walking. The pensioners stayed behind to gather their stuff.

"Markus, you really hurt me back there, making me kneel like that… in front of everyone. It was... humiliating," she said, her voice a mix of pain and accusation.

Markus stopped, turning to face her, his expression softening. "I'm sorry, Mel. I didn't want to embarrass you, but you know I told you yesterday about your behavior in public. I want us to fit in." His words were a cover, a way to disguise his true reason for the act, which was to curb her speaking out of line.

Melissa shook her head, her voice trembling with emotion. "It's not just about fitting in. It's about how you see me now. I thought maybe... maybe things could be different."

He reached out, his hand stopping short of touching her, as if he too was caught in the limbo between what he wanted and what was expected. "I do want things to be different between us, Mel. I just don't know how to do that here, with all these eyes watching. I'll... I'll try to make it up to you." His apology was more about soothing the situation than genuine remorse; his intention had been to silence her, to discourage her from voicing her discontent with her situation.

They continued their walk. Melissa felt the burn on her knees, a reminder that Markus required her to kneel. Her mind racing with thoughts of freedom, dignity, and the complex web of emotions that now defined her life with Markus.

—

The pensioners had gathered their belongings and started walking. Markus and Melissa waited for them to catch up. The group, now a mix of masters and slaves, decided to head to a local café known for accepting slaves, a short walk from the pool. Markus walked alongside Horst and Werner, with his arm around Melissa as if she was his girlfriend. Kaya and Liana were trailing slightly behind.

As the group made their way down the sandy path towards the café, the sun beat down relentlessly, casting long shadows that danced with each step. The air was thick with the scent of the ocean and the sounds of the nearby market. Markus walked with his arm around Melissa, a gesture that felt more like a claim than affection. Kaya and Liana followed behind, their expressions unreadable yet curious about the new dynamics at play.

Horst, wiping sweat from his brow, glanced at Markus while they walked. "So, Markus, you've got yourself quite the situation with Melissa. What's the plan moving forward? You can't keep her like this forever, can you?"

Markus, feeling the weight of the question, squeezed Melissa slightly, perhaps seeking some reassurance. "I'm not looking at forever, Horst. I just need time. I think we can figure something out, build a relationship where she's not just... well, not just a slave."

Werner, walking on Markus's other side, chuckled, his tone laced with skepticism. "Time, huh? That's the luxury of youth, Markus. But time has a way of complicating things, especially when you're dealing with human beings, not just assets."

Melissa, feeling the conversation swirl around her like the dust kicked up by their feet, interjected, her voice firm yet tinged with hope. "Markus, the only way forward is with my freedom. If we're talking about building something, it has to be on equal ground. I can't be your slave and your partner."

Markus nodded, his face a mask of contemplation. "I know, Mel. I hear you. Once we're back home, we can discuss how to move forward. Maybe... maybe we can find a way where you're free but still with me."

The path narrowed, forcing them to walk single file for a moment, and Markus's arm slipped from around Melissa. She felt the brief respite from his grasp, her mind racing with possibilities and fears. As they returned to walking side by side, Horst continued, "You need to be careful, Markus. This isn't like renting Kaya or Liana. Melissa's from your world. What happens if she decides to speak up once you're back?"

"I'm counting on her understanding," Markus said, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. "I saved her from a worse fate. I think... I hope that counts for something."

Liana, overhearing, whispered to Kaya, "He's living in a dream if he thinks she'll thank him for this."

Kaya nodded subtly, her eyes on Melissa, perhaps seeing a reflection of her own life in a different light.

Werner's tone turned advisory. "You need to think beyond Grabesh, Markus. If this goes south, we want no part in it. We're here for the sun, the sea, and fun, not legal battles back home."

—

The café was a quaint, open-air establishment with tables shaded by palm leaves, the scent of coffee mingling with the salty air from the nearby beach. Markus, Melissa, Horst, and Werner, along with Kaya and Liana kneeling at the side, settled into their seats, the tension of earlier conversations hanging like the afternoon heat.

As they waited for their drinks, Horst took the lead, his eyes twinkling with the memory of tales to tell. "You know, Markus, this café reminds me of another place, not far from here, where there was this British fellow, David. He came here thinking he could live like a king with a local slave."

Markus listened, his arm casually draped over Melissa's shoulders, though his touch felt more like a claim than comfort. Melissa, sitting on the towel-covered chair, kept her gaze on the table, her mind elsewhere, but her ears tuned to the story.

"He bought a slave, just like you, Markus," Horst continued, watching for Markus's reaction. "But he didn't account for the cultural nuances. Thought he could treat her like a wife back in England. Ended up in a mess when she ran away during a festival. He was the talk of the town, not in a good way."

Werner chuckled, adding to the tale. "He didn't understand that here, even if you own someone, you still have to navigate local customs and social expectations. He tried to dine with her in places where slaves aren't allowed at tables, caused quite the scandal."

Markus shifted uncomfortably, the anecdote hitting too close to home. "What happened to him?"

Horst leaned back, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. "He had to pay a hefty fine for the disruption, and he left Grabesh with his tail between his legs. His slave was found and returned to him, but the damage to his reputation here was done. He couldn't show his face in public without whispers following him."

Melissa looked up, her eyes meeting Markus's briefly. She wondered if he saw the parallel, if he understood the implications. "And the slave?" she asked, her voice quiet but clear.

"She was given back to him, but word is, he sold her before leaving. Couldn't bear the shame back home, I suppose, or maybe he saw the light," Werner explained, his gaze shifting to Melissa with a hint of empathy.

The conversation paused as their drinks arrived, the clink of cups on saucers punctuating the moment. Markus took a sip of his coffee, his mind clearly wrestling with the story's implications.

Horst continued, "The moral here, Markus, isn't about whether you can own someone legally here. It's about understanding how your actions are perceived, both here and back home. You've got to think about how you'll walk away from this."

Werner nodded, his tone more serious now. "And remember, Markus, slaves here know their place, but they're not without their own agency. Give them a chance, and they'll find a way to assert themselves or try to make a run for it. You need to be smart about this."

Markus glanced at Melissa, who was now looking out to the sea, perhaps imagining her own escape or freedom. "I hear you," he said, his voice betraying his internal conflict. "I just want her to be with me... willingly."

Melissa turned her gaze back to him, her expression unreadable. "Willingly," she echoed, her voice soft but laden with meaning.

As the significance of the anecdote about David settled, Markus felt a shift in his perspective. The tales of caution and consequence from Horst and Werner echoed in his mind, painting a vivid picture of what could happen if he didn't navigate this situation with care.

"Mel," Markus said, his voice softer than before, carrying an undertone of regret. "Perhaps you should join Kaya and Liana."

Melissa turned her gaze to him, her expression unreadable. The implications of his words were clear; he was asking her to kneel, to adhere to the local customs that had been so vividly illustrated by the pensioners' stories. She nodded slowly, a gesture of compliance rather than agreement, and slid off the chair. The towel that had covered her seat fell to the ground as she moved to kneel beside Kaya and Liana and took the posture of submission expected from her.

The conversation then drifted to lighter tales of tourists' misadventures in Grabesh, giving Markus a moment to ponder without the immediate pressure of their situation. The pensioners' stories served as a bridge between cultures, a subtle warning wrapped in anecdotes, urging Markus to consider the broader implications of his choices beyond the immediate thrill of possession.

As they headed back to his hut, Markus was quieter, his mind clearly still wrestling with the complex issues at hand. Melissa walked beside him, unsure of what their immediate future held but hopeful that the conversation had planted seeds of doubt about the current state of their relationship.

—

Markus sat at his desk, the glow of his laptop screen reflecting in his eyes, his focus laser-sharp but interrupted by the presence of Melissa, who stood near the doorway, her arms folded, her expression one of boredom. The room was a testament to the morning's activities, with dishes scattered around the kitchen and Markus’s clothes draped over furniture.

"Mel," Markus began, his voice a mix of request and command, "I really need to concentrate on this work. It's crucial. But you, you've got nothing to do, and the place is a mess. Why don't you clean up? There are dishes from this morning, the floors need cleaning in all the rooms, and you can take my clothes to the communal washroom to wash them, then hang them up."

He paused, looking for any sign of agreement, then added, "Remember, you asked to be involved in small things. We could work as a team this way."

Melissa's eyes narrowed slightly, a storm brewing behind them. She took a moment and saw an opportunity to negotiate better terms for herself, "I can clean up, but in exchange, can you promise me you will not chain me up for the night anymore, Markus?"

Markus hesitated, his gaze dropping to his papers before returning to her. "It depends on your behavior in general, Mel. It's about trust. If you rebel with something as simple as this, it's clear you're not willing to do your part, and that means I can't trust you. But if you help, that would go a long way."

With a sigh that spoke volumes, Melissa nodded, her agreement laced with reluctance. "Fine," she said, disappointment audible in her voice.

She moved toward the kitchen, her steps deliberate. Grabbing the dishes, she stacked them with a bit more force than necessary, the clattering noise a subtle protest against her situation. Each plate and cup was tossed into the sink with a resounding clink, a soundtrack to her frustration.

Kneeling on the floor with a bucket of soapy water, she began scrubbing with exaggerated movements, her breathing heavy and audible, a clear sign of her annoyance. Her body moved in long, sweeping arcs. Her task was mundane, but her nudity made her feel like she was performing for him. When her head oriented towards him, she felt like she was bowing to him, when she was sideways she thought how she was giving him a view of her breasts swinging below her, and when she faced away from him, she thought about how she was giving him an involuntary peep show of her private parts.

Gathering Markus's laundry, she felt the humiliation seep into her bones as she walked out, her bare feet padding against the warm stones. The path to the communal washroom led her past the pool where Horst and Werner were lounging again. Their eyes casually followed her. Kaya and Liana, now swimming, waved at her with genuine warmth, their laughter carrying over the water. Melissa couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy; they seemed to be spending their day in playful leisure while Markus was putting her to work.

In the washroom, she loaded the washing machine with his clothes and started the machine.

—

As Melissa carried the basket of Markus's laundry towards the communal clothesline, her steps were heavy with the burden of her new life under Markus's ownership. The sun was high, casting short shadows that barely offered any respite from the heat. She was lost in thought while hearing the splashes of water from the pool nearby.

Kaya and Liana saw Melissa from the pool and decided to join her. They climbed out of the water, their movements graceful yet purposeful, and approached her with a mixture of sympathy and curiosity in their eyes.

"Hey, Melissa," Kaya said with a warm voice as she took some clothes from the basket. "Let us help you with that."

"Thanks," Melissa replied, genuinely grateful for the company.

Liana grabbed a few shirts. "Yeah, it's always better with company."

The three of them began hanging the laundry. The wet clothes made a rhythmic slap against the line, a sound that was oddly comforting.

"So, how's it going with Markus as your master?" Kaya asked as she pinned a towel to the line.

Melissa sighed, her fingers working mechanically. "It's... different. I feel like I've gone from not really being a slave to now actually feeling like one every day."

Liana nodded, understanding in her eyes. "When I saw you kneeling with us this morning, I thought how it must feel weird to you."

"And at the café," Kaya said, securing a towel. "It's like you've become one of us."

"Yeah, it does," Melissa admitted. "And now I'm doing all his chores. He says we're partners, but this?" She gestured to the laundry, her frustration evident.

Kaya chuckled, "Yeah, white masters are all about 'partnership'. Nothing says 'equality' like scrubbing floors and washing clothes."

"And more," Melissa added quietly, her voice carrying the weight of her situation.

Kaya laughed softly, her eyes kind. "Yeah, we do 'more' too. Well, if you can find fun in it, why not? It's one of the few things we can enjoy. What do you call it when you're having sex with your master?"

Liana jumped in, "A 'workout' with benefits!"

They all laughed, the humor breaking the tension.

Liana, trying to lighten the mood, smirked. "It's like, 'Oh, you want to be my master? Great, then you can be my master... of pleasure.'"

Kaya laughed, the sound echoing around them. "Exactly! It's the one job where you can't complain about the benefits package!"

Melissa couldn't help but blush and laugh at their humor, feeling a moment of levity in her otherwise heavy situation. "I guess that's one way to look at it," she said, the tension easing slightly.

Liana grinned, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know, it's like they think they're doing us a favor by letting us do the 'fun' work."

Kaya joined in, "Oh, definitely. It's like, 'Thanks for the workout, master, can we do the laundry now?'"

Liana laughed, "Or, 'I've had enough cardio for the day, how about some housework to cool down?'"

Melissa couldn't help but laugh with them, the humor easing the tension. "That’s an interesting… perspective."

Liana added with a playful wink, "And think about it, we're making sure our 'workouts' are really... rigorous."

Kaya nodded, her laughter genuine. "When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. Or in our case, when life gives you masters, you find the fun in the 'chores.'"

Liana added, "Exactly. It's about finding those little moments where you can laugh, even if it's at their expense."

The shared laughter among them echoed around the clothesline, momentarily lifting the heavy atmosphere, making Melissa feel like part of a strange new sisterhood.

—

The conversation paused as Tariq walked by, his presence a reminder of Melissa's previous life where she wasn't just another slave. He looked a bit out of place among the trio of naked women, his eyes darting between them.

Kaya and Liana turned to him and said “Master” and “Sir” with bowed heads to greet him.

"Melissa, how are you holding up?" Tariq asked, stopping near the clothesline, his concern evident.

Melissa turned towards him, her expression softening slightly. "Not well, Tariq. Markus says he wants us to have a relationship, but here I am, doing all his housework, like I'm his maid... or his actual house slave."

Tariq nodded, his gaze sympathetic. "I'm sorry to hear that. How are you managing?"

"I manage," she said, her voice firm but weary. "How about you, Tariq? Any news?"

"Actually, I spoke to Arbek yesterday," Tariq began, his tone cautious. "He's pretty upset about what's happened to you."

Melissa's eyes widened with a flicker of hope. "Upset? What did he say?"

"He was shocked, for one. Feels like he's let you down, not being there when you needed him. He was angry, too, at Markus for taking advantage of the situation." Tariq watched her reaction, gauging how much to share.

"And?" Melissa pressed, needing to hear more of Arbek and her old life.

"He's frustrated, Melissa. He can't get back right away; the next flight to Grabesh isn't until tomorrow. He's been looking into any possible way to come back sooner but... you know, with only weekly flights, there's not much he can do." Tariq paused, choosing his words carefully. "He's determined to fix this, though. He feels guilty, responsible for your situation with the loan. He's planning to confront Markus as soon as he's back."

Melissa's heart ached with a mix of relief and longing. "Does he... does he think he can do something?"

"He's going to try everything, legally or otherwise. He knows it's not straightforward, but he won't let this stand. He's worried about you, how you're holding up under Markus's... ownership." Tariq's voice was heavy with the weight of the word.

Melissa’s voice firmed with resolve, "I need him to hurry. I can't live like this, Tariq. I can't be Markus's slave."

Tariq placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, a gesture of solidarity. "I know, and Arbek knows that too. He'll be here soon, and we'll figure this out. In the meantime, try to stay strong, okay?"

Melissa nodded, her gaze returning to the laundry, now swaying gently in the breeze. "I'll try. Thanks, Tariq. It means a lot to know Arbek hasn't forgotten me."

"He hasn't," Tariq reassured her. "And neither have we. We're all here for you."

With that, Tariq gave her shoulder a final squeeze before continuing on his way, leaving Melissa with a renewed sense of hope. She turned back to Kaya and Liana, who had been listening quietly, their expressions a mix of empathy and solidarity. Together, they finished hanging the clothes, the shared task now feeling less like a chore and more like a moment of unity among them.

The news of Arbek's return was a beacon of hope in her otherwise dim situation. Melissa considered whether she should tell Markus. But it wouldn’t be good news for him.

Arbek would want to get her out of here. If she told Markus about his arrival, that would give him time to prepare for him. He might chain her up or move her to a different location. Telling him about Arbek’s arrival only had disadvantages for her. So she chose to keep it to herself.

—

When she returned, the sun was setting, casting long shadows over her path. The work was done, but she felt resentment that he was using her like a slave. He kept telling her that he wanted a relationship with her, but he treated her like his sex slave in bed and a house slave to do work chores during the daytime.

When she returned to his hut, Markus wasn’t there. She was tired and took a shower, then went to the bedroom. The chains were still attached to the headboard as if waiting for her. She wondered if her compliance had bought her any freedom, or if the chains would still clink against her wrists when night fell. She opened the drawer to Markus’s nightstand and saw more handcuffs, chains and the bottle of lube he had used the previous night. She knew the restraints were all meant to be used on her.

She laid down on the bed to rest.

Eventually she heard the door open and Markus return. He popped by the bedroom and said “Hey Mel.”

—

His face had a determined expression as he carried a small backpack. He found Melissa in the bedroom, looking tired after her day of chores but still maintaining a quiet dignity in her enforced nudity.

"Melissa, we need to talk about something," Markus said, his voice carrying a hint of frustration as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I've noticed... well, I've noticed you're not exactly relaxing with me. When we're intimate, you're tense, and I always have to use lube to even begin. It's like you're holding back."

Melissa looked up, her eyes wary. "It's not exactly easy, Markus, given the circumstances," she replied, her voice a mix of defiance and weariness.

"I understand it's not easy," Markus continued, his tone softening but with an underlying firmness, "but I want us to work towards a point where you can let go, where you can feel pleasure with me. I want to help you with that."

He unzipped his backpack, pulling out a sleek, modern-looking vibrator, still in its packaging. "I bought this for you. I think it could help."

Melissa's eyes widened slightly, the implication clear. "What do you expect me to do with that?"

Markus stood, gesturing towards the bed. "I want you to kneel on the bed, Mel, with your legs spread. Just hear me out, please."

Reluctantly, Melissa moved to the bed, her movements slow and deliberate. She knelt, her knees sinking into the mattress, her legs parting as he had instructed. Her nudity now was not just a condition of her slavery but a focal point of this new, intimate exercise.

Markus handed her a small bottle of lubricant, his voice gentle but insistent. "Put some on your clitoris. It'll make this easier. I want you to masturbate in front of me."

Her face flushed with embarrassment and a touch of anger. "Markus, I can't... this is too much."

"It's for your benefit, Mel," he argued, his gaze locked with hers. "If you can become comfortable with arousal in front of me, it'll help us both. This is something we need to work on for our relationship to function. You've got to trust me, let go, not just physically but emotionally too."

With a sigh, Melissa felt the oppressive weight of her reality. The request was an intimate invasion, cutting deep into her sense of self. Nonetheless, she took the lube and applied it with trembling hands, with a silent protest in her eyes.

As she began, Markus watched intently, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Don't just go through the motions, Mel. Try to feel it, let yourself enjoy it."

Her movements were hesitant at first, the foreign object in her hand an extension of Markus's control over her body. The vibrator buzzed to life, and she pressed it against herself, the sensation both alien and intense. She tried to focus on the physical pleasure, but her mind was a storm of conflicting emotions.

Markus spoke softly, his voice coaxing. "Close your eyes if it helps. Just feel it. Remember, this is about us connecting, about you being able to be yourself with me. I want you to enjoy this, to know you're safe with me."

Melissa closed her eyes, trying to block out the reality of her situation, focusing on the sensations. The vibration was relentless, coaxing responses from her body that she tried to resist. Gradually, her breathing deepened, her body beginning to respond despite her mental reservations.

The vibrations stirred a tumult within her—part revulsion, part surrender. She recoiled inwardly at this exposure of her sexuality to Markus. Yet, as the sensations built, part of her recognized the rarity of pleasure in her current life. Her days were filled with subservience, the humiliation that everyone could see her naked, and her nights were spent in chains. This moment, while it was forced on her, offered her pleasure even if it wasn’t on her terms.

"See, Mel?" Markus whispered, his voice now closer as he leaned in, his presence a reminder of her captivity yet also a strange comfort in this moment of vulnerability. "You can relax, you can enjoy this. It's just us here."

Melissa felt the edge of her control slipping, her body betraying her with involuntary responses. She resented that Markus had the power to force these feelings of lust onto her. It allowed him to reach deep into her. Into a part of herself she was only meant to share with a man who was dear to her.

But the pleasure was undeniable, as well as the humiliation of being watched, of being made to perform. Just as she felt the peak approaching, Markus's hand gently touched her thigh, a gesture meant to be reassuring but which only intensified her awareness that she was doing this for him.

—

Melissa's hand trembled slightly as she pressed the vibrator harder against her clitoris. The hum of the device sent ripples of sensation through her body. The vibrations built up lust in her like in a crescendo, like storm clouds ready to burst. She closed her eyes and tried to shut out Markus's presence, to make this moment hers alone.

The room seemed to fade away. The walls and Markus’s watchful eyes became distant echoes in her mind. Her breath quickened and her body tensed as the pressure mounted. The pleasure was no longer something she could ignore or deny. She was riding the edge, her muscles tightening, her mind teetering between resistance and release.

Finally, a wave of lust crashed over her, an overwhelming surge that drowned out everything else. Her back arched involuntarily, a silent gasp parting her lips as the orgasm swept through her, a fierce, uncontrollable force. Her body convulsed with the intensity, her thighs quivered around her trembling hand that held the vibrator.

For those fleeting seconds, she wasn't Markus's slave; she was just a woman embracing a moment of ecstasy, claiming it for herself amidst the chaos of her life. The pleasure was sharp as it cut through the fog of her captivity.

As the wave receded, it left a trail of shudders in its wake. Melissa opened her eyes. Markus was there, watching her, his gaze a mix of fascination and possession. Her chest heaved, her skin flushed with the heat of release, and her heart was pounding.

She didn't look at Markus; she couldn't meet his eyes, not now, when he had watched her in this private moment. Instead, she focused on her breathing and calming herself.

—

As the waves of her orgasm subsided, Melissa's body relaxed, her mind still lingering on the fleeting sense of escape she had just experienced. Markus, however, was not content with the visual evidence alone. He needed to feel, to confirm for himself that what he had witnessed was genuine.

"Mel, kneel up, keep your legs spread," Markus said, his voice a mix of command and curiosity.

Melissa's brow furrowed, confusion clouding her post-orgasmic haze. "What? Why?" she asked, her voice still breathless.

"I need to check, Mel," Markus insisted, his tone softening slightly but leaving no room for argument. "I need to know you weren't just faking it."

Her face flushed with indignation, the intrusion of her privacy now more apparent. "You really think I would fake that?" she retorted, a mix of disbelief and anger in her voice.

"It's not about what I think," Markus countered, his patience wearing thin. "It's about trust, about knowing we're on the same page. Please, just do this."

Melissa sighed, a sound of defeat mixed with frustration. She knew there was no point in arguing further; this was part of her reality now. With a reluctant nod, she lifted herself up, her thighs still parted, her vulnerability laid bare once more.

Markus moved closer, his fingers tracing a path up her inner thigh before slipping two fingers gently into her vagina. The sensation was invasive, and contrasted with the pleasure she had just experienced from that area. It felt like a demonstration that he could touch her there. That he had the right to reach inside her vagina to inspect physical evidence of her feelings. Markus felt the undeniable slickness, the warmth and moisture that only true arousal could produce.

"You're wet," he murmured, more to himself than to her, a note of satisfaction in his voice. He withdrew his fingers slowly, his inspection complete.

Melissa's cheeks burned, her eyes diverted, unable to look at him, after feeling the weight within her.

Markus, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort, leaned in, his lips finding hers in a passionate kiss, one that felt like a claim rather than affection. "That was very good, Mel," he whispered against her lips. "I think we're getting somewhere."

He then lowered himself and kissed her still sensitive clitoris, a kiss meant to be tender but which felt like another form of possession to Melissa.

"You can relax now," he said, his voice soothing, as if this act could erase the inspection that had just occurred.

Melissa, feeling a mixture of relief and disgust, allowed herself to sink back down onto the bed, her body still tingling from the physical sensation. However, her mind was now heavy with the reality that Markus would inspect her in such an intimate way.

—

Melissa’s display of her sexuality at his order had awakened primal feelings in Markus. After seeing the shudders of her orgasm subsided and feeling the wetness in her vagina, he could no longer contain himself. With a swift motion, he shed his clothes, the fabric falling to the floor with a whisper. He moved towards the bed, the air thick with anticipation.

He gently but firmly pushed Melissa back onto the bed, her back meeting the cool sheets. Without a word, he spread her legs, his hands feeling the warmth of her skin, testament to her recent climax. He positioned himself between her thighs, the tip of his penis meeting her entrance, and to his delight, he found no need for the artificial aid of lubricant this time. Her body, still responsive from the pleasure she had induced, welcomed him easily.

Melissa lay there, her mind resigned to what was about to happen. She had anticipated this moment, knowing the sight of her in such an intimate state would spark Markus's desire. Her body was still slick, her arousal enough to ease Markus's entry. She didn't resist, understanding this would be quick, that Markus was too eager, too turned on to prolong it.

As Markus entered her, the friction was minimal; her body was already prepared. He moved with urgency, driven by a mix of lust and the thrill of this new dynamic between them. His thrusts were eager, his breathing heavy with excitement. Melissa, though not desiring this, felt a strange detachment, her body responding mechanically while her mind was elsewhere, thinking about freedom.

Soon Markus reached his peak. His body shuddered with release and he collapsed next to her. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips. He turned to her, his face lit with the afterglow of satisfaction.

"That was great, Mel," he murmured with contentment. "I know we have a long way to go, but this was just our first day together. And I think we are slowly getting somewhere."

—

Markus was in a good mood after this. Not only did he just have sex, but they hadn’t needed any artificial lubrication for it. Melissa had managed to get wet on her own. She had needed a vibrator for that but that was ok. It was a step in the right direction. This training would get her used to being aroused in his presence. Over time, she would get used to the procedure, she would get aroused more quickly, and maybe eventually, the vibrator would no longer be necessary.

He took Melissa out to get some food. They got some takeaways. Markus felt like celebrating, so he also bought snacks and some cake.

Back home they shared the meal on the couch. He was so excited that he didn’t bother to cover the couch with a towel this time. He connected his laptop to the television screen, and they watched a movie.

Melissa enjoyed the food. And even the movie was interesting. It felt like they were on a date or as if they were friends hanging out and having fun.

Except that she was naked, of course. And Markus’s slave. But he didn’t make her feel like that. The last few days had been full of stress and turmoil. She had almost been auctioned off, and this evening felt like she was getting a break from all that. She couldn’t be constantly stressed, and she couldn’t constantly resent Markus for keeping her enslaved. She needed the feeling of fun and of normalcy, and she found those here.

The evening felt good. When Markus brought out the cake, and when she started eating it, she even smiled for the first time in a while. And she laughed when something funny happened in the movie.

After eating the cake, she sat cross-legged with one leg up on the sofa next to Markus. She leaned back, and he put her arm around her. It felt like they were dating again.

Later that evening they both laid down on the couch and watched another movie while he spooned her.

When the movies were over, it was already late. Melissa was grateful that Markus had organized this pleasant evening for her and they prepared to go to bed.

—

That night, as the moonlight filtered through the thin curtains, Melissa lay in bed, her heart heavy with hope that Markus would forgo the chains. But her optimism was quickly doused when she saw him reach for the restraints.

"Markus, no," she protested, sitting up slightly, "I did everything you asked today. I should not be put in chains for the night because of that."

Markus paused, his hand hovering over the cuffs, his expression conflicted. He looked at her, really looked, his eyes searching hers for sincerity. "Today was a good start, Mel, but you showed quite a bit of attitude when you were cleaning the house. You did the chores, and I appreciate that, but I want to see that you're on board with your life here. Instead, you clearly showed that you had a bad attitude. You argued when I asked you to kneel with the pensioners and complained about having to be with me. All of that shows me that you haven't found your role yet."

He held out the cuffs, his voice softening but still firm with determination. "I don't blame you. I can see that you're trying, and I'm sure that eventually we'll get somewhere. But you should try to improve your attitude."

Melissa hesitated, her eyes darting from the cuffs to Markus's face, seeing the struggle there - the desire for connection battling with his need for control. The silence stretched between them, filled with the weight of their situation. Finally, with a resigned sigh that spoke volumes of her defeat, she extended her wrists towards him, her fingers trembling.

Melissa watched with dismay as Markus closed the handcuffs and heard the metallic clicks of the ratchet mechanism as the bows tightened around her wrists. He then threaded the central chain through the headboard, pulling her down to lie on the bed, and secured the leg irons to the bars with minimal slack.

Once she was chained, Markus settled in beside her, his body close, but his mind clearly wrestling with his desires. After a moment, he shed his pajamas, his intentions clear, but there was a hesitation in his movements, a moment where he seemed to consider the implications.

"Markus, please take these off," Melissa pleaded, her voice a mix of desperation and weariness, tugging at the cuffs.

He paused, his eyes meeting hers, a flicker of guilt passing through them. "It won't take long," he said.

She had come to accept she’d be having sex with Markus, but she dreaded the chains. She didn't want to be shackled during sex, as it made her feel his control over her. However, by recalling her earlier experience with the vibrator, she managed to become aroused and wet to prepare herself for the intercourse that was about to happen.

He positioned himself over her. Her chains clinked softly with her slight movements. His hands lingered, not just in desire but with a sort of apology in his touch. As he entered her, his movements were initially slow, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction, to see if there was any sign of resistance or there would be pleasure.

Markus moved with urgency. His breathing was heavy against her ear, and soon, he reached his climax, his body shuddering above her.

Afterward, he kissed her gently on the lips, his voice a whisper in the quiet room. "I love you, Mel," he said, but there was a question in his tone, as if seeking a response, a sign that what he felt was shared or at least tolerated.

The reality of her situation settled in as she felt his semen start to leak out of her. "Markus, it's leaking," she complained, the chains restricting her from even addressing the discomfort.

Without getting up, Markus reached over to the nightstand, pulling out a cleaning wipe. "Here you go," he said. His voice was low and his touch gentle as he wiped her down.

Melissa lay there, the cold chain against her skin, the memory of the act on her body, and Markus's words echoing in her mind. She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with thoughts of escape, of freedom, knowing each day was just another step in a long, uncertain journey.

[hoggle123]

Dear Reader,

Thanks for reading this far. If you've read the entire story up to here from the first chapter, you have read 294 pages!

As usual, what did you like, what didn't you like?

Let me know what you think and don't forget to enter a rating at the poll at the top!

[CommodorRaptr]

I can't believe it took me this long to figure it out but I like this story as it is so very different from most legal slavery stories. The main character isn't happy or even slightly aroused by her forced slavery. It's such an interesting and honestly more realistic point of view that I appreciate greatly. The writing is also superb. Well done.

[Outstander]

The chapter is well written and believable. The author may end story here. Arbek and Zahara come back, and they convince Markus to release Melissa from slave status. Everybody will be happy ever after. Sugary ending would be disappointment for readers though.
Otherwise, I would move the slave from Marcus. He is not a true master, and Melissa will never be his genuine submissive girlfriend. Suppose between Arbek and Zahara romance is going on. There is a law that does not allow imported slaves to be released within three years. Also, Zahara secretly loves Melissa being in a slave collar.

[hoggle123]

The chapter is well written and believable.

Thanks!

The author may end story here. Arbek and Zahara come back, and they convince Markus to release Melissa from slave status. Everybody will be happy ever after.

Uh, tempting!

This story has become far longer than I had initially thought. Initially, I had an idea for a plot and I thought it would be maybe 80 pages or so long. But somehow everything takes more pages than I thought, and now this is page 294.

[lovethissite]

Hoggle: Great chapter again. I can't believe you initially thought this story was only be 80 pages. I'm glad you didn't stop there this story has and had so much further to go. Melissa at times is more of a slave than the rent a slaves. The only thing I hope is as time goes by I hope Melissa's spirit is broken and she embraces her sex slave status and abandons her former free person former existence. She is a natural slave and needs stop arguing and pushing against her now true nature. Severe sexual and domestic skill training would help make her a more valuable and bring out her true inner self.

[Mr. Smith]

Another enjoyable chapter. The attitude of the two slave girls towards sex was rather enlightening. I wonder how Melissa would see it if she had to spend any real-time as a slave owned by a third party that she did not know.

Based on Horst and Werner's comments, Markus may have dug himself into a hole he cannot easily escape. If Markus frees Melissa it appears he risks authorities back home finding out what he has done to her. I suspect they would frown upon the way he cuffed and chained her up in his bed at night and then forced himself upon her sexually; not even allowing her to go to the bathroom to clean up afterwards. I doubt Melissa will keep quiet when she gets home unless she believes it is in her best interest not to have anyone back home find out about her time as a sex slave as it could be embarrassing. The only way to avoid that is to sell her to a brothel recoup his money and leave the country. He appears to have pretty much burned his bridges with anyone else there. At some point, he will realize that living there permanently with Melissa as his slave wife just isn't realistic. I'm sure the author has a plan. I liked Outstanders suggestion of a law that does not allow imported slaves to be released within three years. Now that would sure make things interesting for Melissa and give Markus an out for purchasing her which he may have negated by his boorish behavior towards her. Just a thought.

[hoggle123]

Another enjoyable chapter.

Thanks!

There is a law that does not allow imported slaves to be released within three years.

I liked Outstanders suggestion of a law that does not allow imported slaves to be released within three years. Now that would sure make things interesting for Melissa and give Markus an out for purchasing her which he may have negated by his boorish behavior towards her. Just a thought.

I really am tempted to find an ending to the story somewhere around here.

That would require changes to some previous chapters, but I'd be willing to do that.

I've taken a look at what it would take:

In chapter 29 "The Offer" he would have mentioned that he has looked into the rules and found out that about the three-year rule.

He would have said that he is willing to purchase her if she spends those three years with him as his slave. She would have to live with him and do as he says. If she refuses his orders, she will end up where she is now. If she serves him as his slave, he will free her after the three years. She would agree because she has no other option.

The benefit of the three-year rule is that Markus is no longer responsible for keeping her enslaved. He really is rescuing her with a clear path to freedom. And he is hoping that she will fall in love with him along the way. It also gives her a stronger incentive to comply. If she manages to stay with Markus, she will be free eventually. But if he sells her, she will be a slave for life. That is more tangible than the current vague promise that Markus will free her "when we both feel ready."

She plays along and also has sex with him because as a slave she depends on him for everything and he can always put her back for auction as "agreed."

Sex would be more of a bargaining situation where she has little leverage. And chaining her to the bed would not happen in this scenario, unfortunately, I guess.

I'll have to rethink how some of the dialogue needs to be changed if Melissa knows that she will be free again after three years.

A lot of little things may need changing, but I think most of the rest of the plot that has happened so far could be kept intact. Even the part in which he makes her kneel because they do want to keep up public appearances. And the pensioners would still warn him, but I'll have to check if what they say needs changing as well.

A possible plothole would be that she could be brought out of the country to free her. If the three-year rule exists to prevent visa fraud, then removing those slaves from the country shouldn't be a problem.

I'm sure the author has a plan.

I do, but maybe this is a better plan!

Thanks for the idea Outstander and Mr Smith! I'll think about it.

[Mr. Smith]

I can see a slavecation tourist industry where individuals self-enslave to a spouse or significant other allowing them to "experience" sexual slavery where they pay a substantial fee for this privilege. Think of the possibilities, with this occurring in a tropical paradise of sorts. Maybe they are required to work a day or two in an actual brothel as sex slaves to make it real for them.

The three year minimum for importation is to prevent individuals from not paying that fee. If no other country allows slavery then importing a slave would be rare and most citizens are not aware of the rule. That way Markus could miss it in his research. It could be amusing if Markus relents and decides to free her only for Melissa to find out at that time that she must spend three years as a slave. I find Melissa to be rather manipulative with men. Every time her freedom is whisked away is poetic justice to an extent. Now she has a real dilemma, with Markus no longer having any motivation to keep her or does Melissa have a change of heart? So many possibilities.

[hoggle123]

I've been thinking a lot about how to continue the story.

I guess what bothered me about my original idea for the story was that it would take very long to write. And so I was enthusiastic to see a way to bring it to a quick but plausible end.

The ideas here are cool, but on the other hand, the story has been building up in a certain way and changing it now would mean losing that.

Markus is on his way from a regular guy to become a slave master, and Melissa more and more becomes a real slave. And this is about to happen under some professional slave training.

I've realized that I can make the story more compact by omitting much of the slave training and focusing on how the relationship between Markus and Melissa develops while Melissa is being trained. I have tried to sketch this out a bit, and I think it is quite readable.

I can see a slavecation tourist industry where individuals self-enslave to a spouse or significant other allowing them to "experience" sexual slavery where they pay a substantial fee for this privilege. Think of the possibilities, with this occurring in a tropical paradise of sorts. Maybe they are required to work a day or two in an actual brothel as sex slaves to make it real for them.

The three year minimum for importation is to prevent individuals from not paying that fee. If no other country allows slavery then importing a slave would be rare and most citizens are not aware of the rule. That way Markus could miss it in his research. It could be amusing if Markus relents and decides to free her only for Melissa to find out at that time that she must spend three years as a slave.

Yep, that is all very plausible and I think would make some fun stories!

I find Melissa to be rather manipulative with men. Every time her freedom is whisked away is poetic justice to an extent.

[hoggle123]

This chapter is getting an incredibly high amount of views:

why-high-views.jpeg

1946 views as I'm writing this.

That is more than any other of the chapters. And the other chapters have been around for much longer!

I'm curious why that is. Does anyone know?

I don't think it has anything to do with the discussion under the story because I noticed the view count going up quickly after I posted the chapter already.

Or is it something about this chapter? If so, I don't see what is so special about this chapter.

Or something else entirely?

[Babaurome]

I was wondering if anyone know another story like that. Now necessarily as well written as we are dealing with a pearl here, but in the legal slavery universe but with a slave struggling with slavery not embracing it 5 minutes after she's shackled

[Mr. Smith]

Babaurome wrote,

I was wondering if anyone know another story like that. Now necessarily as well written as we are dealing with a pearl here, but in the legal slavery universe but with a slave struggling with slavery not embracing it 5 minutes after she's shackled

Carl Bradford's Going Around to Cum Around posted on Literotica tells the tail of a former slave wrangler repo'd to pay off a home mortgage. There is not a submissive bone in her body although she is able to turn up the slave heat while on the auction block. This character is introduced in Carl's first story Repaying My College Loans working at HCI in Houston if I recall correctly.

Gentlemanmariner's The Apartment has some characters that do not particularly enjoy their time wearing a collar. Many of his stories are a mixed bag of characters learning to accept their enslavement and what it means for them. Many of them take the attitude that if you are going to be forced to act slutty and have sex you might as well learn to enjoy it as much as you can. Westbound and Went West are two stories that cover this issue.

On this site, I have Quality Mother Daughter Time with the Avery character definitely not enjoying her time wearing the collar, but learning to adapt over time. This story will be completed at some point joining up with Allison's Descent Into Slavery when I finish that one.

From a writing standpoint, it is easier to write an enslavement story where the protagonist discovers her submissive side while expanding her sexual horizons through a variety of new experiences that she ends up enjoying, much to her surprise. This is kind of a voyage of self-discovery. For me, I would not enjoy writing a story where the protagonist is miserable and constantly fighting the sex. Although this might be a more realistic outcome.

[Babaurome]

Thank you very much, I'll begin with quality time with daughter!