THREE DAYS A SLAVE
THE COMPLETE NOVELLA
Copyright © 2014, 2015 by Natasha Stevens.
THIS WORK IS INTENDED ONLY FOR ADULT AUDIENCES, AS DEFINED BY YOUR LOCAL JURISDICTION. IT CONTAINS GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF SEX, INCLUDING LESBIAN ACTS, BONDAGE, DOCTOR PLAY, HUMILIATION AND DISCIPLINE, WATERSPORTS AND ENEMAS. ALL PARTICIPANTS IN THE STORY ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18.
Non-consensual sex is a crime. Remember the difference between fantasy and reality. The author in no way encourages or condones risky or illegal sexual behavior.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Day One: Playing Doctor
Day Two: Shaved Slave
Day Three: Tattoo You
DAY ONE: PLAYING DOCTOR
She took the gloomy rattling freight elevator to the top floor of the old warehouse, terrified, her heart pounding, careful not to brush the dingy, dusty walls and soil her immaculate school uniform of white blouse and knee-length plaid skirt.
After exiting, she turned right, as she’d been instructed, and followed a dim hallway to a door marked OFFICE. Before she could even knock, a voice over an intercom speaker said, “Come in, Tara,” and there was a buzzing sound as the door unlocked.
She timidly opened it and stepped through the door.
The office was bright and clean, a shocking but comforting contrast to the filthy warehouse outside. The furniture was bland Ikea stuff, and the walls had large photos of nature scenes – mountain vistas.
The man sitting behind the desk was younger and far more handsome than she had expected, with long hair – a rich chestnut color – tied back in a loose pony-tail. He wore a black button-down shirt, and his eyes were bright blue. He flashed a bright and friendly and seemingly genuine smile at her. “Please, sit down.”
She tried to smile back, but it felt forced and fake. She pulled back the chair and sat down, clutching her knees together.
“I’m sure you’re nervous,” said the man. “You can call me Christopher.”
She nodded. “Hello, Christopher. Yes, I’m very nervous.”
“It’s important that you know that everything must be consensual. As I explained on the telephone, we are absolutely not going to do anything to you that you don’t agree to do.”
She nodded again. “I understand that.”
“But of course,” he said, “this is a very big step in your life. Have you had any second thoughts?”
“No,” she said firmly. “No second thoughts at all. Anything is better than my current situation.”
He nodded. “Most of the clients that we deal with say the same thing. I assume if you had other options, you would take them. “
She nodded.
He presented some papers to her. “This is the contract. Not, of course, legally binding. There’s nothing legal about any of this. But it details everything that’s going to happen for the next three days. Essentially you will participate in a series of BDSM scenarios, including sex acts as indicated on the page there. At the completion of all of them, you will receive a completely new identity, with a passport, a driver’s license, a credit card, a full scholarship to Merton University on the coast, and a bit more than $50,000 in a bank account.”
She bit her lip as she examined the document. “I want to confirm … these documents, they aren’t just … copies or duplicates or fake papers.”
“No, they are the real thing. Real papers that will stand up to any background check. A real person who has existed. A very dear friend of mine, actually. She … passed away earlier this year. She was buried under another name and you will assume her identity.”
She frowned. “That’s a little …”
“Does it seem like bad luck? Well, she was a brilliant girl, one of the kindest people you’d ever want to meet. But she couldn’t live with the pain of things … certain people had done to her. She died from drugs. If she can live on in some way, by allowing you to live a better life, well, I’m sure she would like that. And don’t worry, she had no criminal record or anything like that, and she even had a decent credit history. The money is clean, also, from a source that has already been taxed and explained. An inheritance from a grandmother, as far as the bank is concerned anyway.”
Christopher passed a photograph across the table to her. “When you leave here, you will look like that.”
Tara drew in breath as she looked at the photograph. “Wow … very … different.”
Christopher shrugged. “You are the same height as her and the same general build and have the same eye color. You’re both the same age, 18, and born in the same year. Hair color is of course not really an issue.”
“But the … tattoo …”
“Yes, that is a part of the … scenario. Your hair as well.”
“And the piercings.”
“Yes,” he said simply.
“She’s really beautiful,” said Tara. “I don’t feel like I could ever look like this.”
“You will, when you leave here. You’ll be able to stay in her apartment – not far from here – for the next two months, and then when you go away to college, you’ll have a room in the dormitory, all paid for by your scholarship. I have all the papers here, if you’d like to look at them.”
He passed another folder full of documents across to her.
She examined them carefully as the minutes ticked by, nodding her head finally and putting the folder aside.
“Of course you are welcome to change your look as you wish, in the future, but when you leave here, you will look like her, and technically speaking, be her – her name was Shade.”
She looked at him pensively. “Shade. Interesting name.”
“Obviously,” he continued, “someone you trust pointed you to us, but I again want to assure you that you can leave at any time. If at any point during the next three days you want to stop, all you have to do is say the safe word, which is mercy. Say that, and everything stops. You’ll be free to leave.”
“And leave with nothing,” she said softly.
He shrugged. “Yes. But stay with us for three days, and you’ll have everything you want. Freedom and escape and an opportunity to make something of your life, away from your current situation. I can guarantee you that the next three days will be terrifying and uncomfortable and … humiliating, but if there’s pain, it will not be severe or unbearable. The people involved are … very experienced at what they do. There is very little chance of injury. If the pain gets to be more than you are comfortable with, simply say the word limit and it will scale back. There will most certainly be arousal, and almost certainly orgasms. Our clients often have multiple orgasms.”
She looked up at him shyly. “I’ve never had one,” she said.
He didn’t laugh, merely looked at her and nodded. “Go ahead and look through the list, and see if there’s anything you don’t agree to. We could perhaps negotiate …”
She looked through the list. “The only thing I have doubts about is the … uh … first few things. The, uh … water sports?”
“Well, I know a lot of people are uncomfortable with it. But it’s all sterile. There is no danger involved. And we have medical professionals doing the administering,” he said.
“How many … different people … are involved?”
“Counting myself, six. They don’t have any knowledge of your identity, by the way. That information stays with me.”
She looked at him, her green eyes meeting his blue ones.
“Okay,” she finally said. “I agree to the terms.”
He nodded, smiling gently. “Okay, when you sign that paper, your old life is over, and your new one begins.”
She begin initialing the items on the list, and finally put her signature at the bottom.
Christopher escorted her back down the hallway and through another plain wooden door; there was a small bare room with a futon on the floor and a liter bottle of mineral water.
“All right, the first stage. Go inside and lie down. I’ll give you further instructions through the intercom.”
She nodded.
The door closed and locked behind her.
She felt a terrible rising panic and felt herself beginning to shake all over.
Soon Christopher’s voice spoke up over the intercom again. “Lie down and try to relax. Think about the life you had for a while, and then think about the life you’re going to have.”
She sat down on futon and closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on her breathing. The room felt cramped and oppressive and moldy, and her white blouse shone under the single overhead light in the room.
Finally her shaking stopped and she felt her heart rate slow a bit.
She calmed herself by thinking that whatever happened over the next few days, none of it could be worse than the things her father had done to her.
And – unlike the things her father had done to her – after three days of it finished, she could finally be free.
She wondered if he had realized she was missing yet. She’d told her mother and father she was going on a weekend ski trip. She knew they tracked her telephone, so she’d stuck it with tape under the back bumper of the bus going on the school ski trip this morning.
She doubted that would fool them for more than a day, however. They’d try to call her this evening, and get a voice mail. Then they’d start calling her friends, and realize she’d never gone on the trip.
Surely they couldn’t find her here, though? Surely not.
She was breathing deeply and slowly now.
Time passed, but she had no watch or phone to check the time. Thirty minutes? One hour?
She realized she was thirsty and drank some of the water. It had been a long walk to the warehouse on a hot day and it tasted good.
Then she finally she lay down and closed her eyes, continuing to breathe deeply and slowly.
Her eyes opened with a start. She was aware she’d actually managed to fall asleep, and she was also aware that she had to pee.
“Hello?” she finally said. She could see an intercom on the ceiling but nobody said anything.
She stood up and said, “I have to go to the toilet.”
The intercom finally crackled to life. “Yes. The first step. Go ahead.”
“I … here?”
“Yes. You read it.”
“I … can’t I even take off my … panties?”
There was a short laugh. “No, you may not.”
“I don’t …”
“Would you like to go home, Tara? Say mercy and you’re free to leave.”
She shook her head.
“Piss yourself now, Tara. As agreed,” said Christopher’s calm, kind voice.
She steeled herself. Standing with her legs spread, she tried to go.
She found that her body refused to do it.
“I can’t!” she said, and felt herself beginning to cry.
“You can. When you need to go, you will go.”
She paced in a circle and then took another drink of the mineral water.
“It’s better if you lie down on the futon. It’ll be easier if you lie.”
She lay and closed her eyes, feeling the hot tears silently flowing down her cheeks.
“Just relax,” said Christopher’s soothing voice. “You’re doing this to put your old life behind you, Tara. Soil that stupid school uniform, those stupid cheap white panties that your mother buys you.”
She opened her eyes and looked at the intercom, shocked.
“Yeah, I know about that. I had to do a background check, of course. I know all about your family.”
She began to cry harder.
“Piss on them, Tara, piss on that stupid school uniform, the school that never did anything to protect you or help you, and the stupid cheap panties that your mother buys. Did the girls laugh at you in gym class because of your cheap panties?”
“Yes,” said Tara weakly. “I hate them!”
“The panties, or the girls, or your mother and father?”
“All of them!”
“Just relax and let go, Tara. We’re going to take care of you. We’re going to give you all the things they never gave you. A chance for freedom. All you have to do is … piss on them.”
She began crying harder. The pressure on her bladder was almost painfully intense now.
Just let go, she thought.
Finally she did. The hot urine soaked into her panties and skirt and the futon beneath her, seeming scalding hot on her thighs and ass.
Tara sobbed loudly.
“All right,” said Christopher softly through the intercom. “It begins.”
The door opened and two men stood there. They were wearing paper masks, the kind doctors and nurses wear, over their mouths and noses, but they were both tall and well-built white guys. They wore baseball hats and blue uniforms and latex gloves.
Tara looked up fearfully.
They wheeled a … stretcher, a wheeled gurney thing, into the room and put it next to the bed.
“Come on, miss, just relax,” said one of them.
They crouched down and lifted her onto the gurney and strapped her onto it. One band crossed her waist, and her wrists were secured to the metal bars on the sides of the gurney with nylon Velcro cuffs. Her ankles were also secured quickly to the metal bars, her legs spread.
She was trembling all over. The feeling of being completely helpless … well, it wasn’t unfamiliar. But she’d never been bound, restrained like this. She tried to move her legs, tugged on her arms, but she was securely fastened in.
She wept silently, her heart racing.
One of the men shined a penlight into her eyes and said, “Can you tell me your name?”
“Tara,” she said fearfully.
“And what happened?”
“I … I don’t …”
“Your skirt is wet. What happened?” asked the second one, arms folded. “You pissed yourself, didn’t you?”
She looked up and nodded her head.
“Say it,” said one of them, putting his hand on her neck and putting his fingers on her carotid pulse, while checking the watch on his other wrist.
“I … yes, I … peed … myself.”
“Dirty little bitch,” said one of them.
“Filthy,” said the other.
“Pulse 110 per minute. Are you scared, little whore?”
“Yes!” she said.
“Why? We’re here to help you.”
“You … keep calling me names!”
“Oh, little bitch doesn’t like that, does she? Little pee stained bitch.” He put his hands on her breasts, squeezing them, kneading them through her white blouse and bra.
Tara gasped and cried out, squirming under his touch.
Christopher’s voice came over the intercom. “Remember Tara, you can stop at any time. Do you want to stop? All you have to do is say mercy. Do you want to stop?”
She shook her head.
“Say it,” said Christopher’s voice.
“I don’t want to stop,” she whimpered.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” she said softly.
“Good little bitch,” said the first one, kneading her tits harder. She licked her lips involuntarily at the firm but gentle touch of his large hands and the pressure on her sensitive breasts.
The other one was pulling her wet skirt up and examining her legs.
“Pretty hot little bitch,” said the first one. “Nice tits, really nice
.”
“Oh god, please, please” said Tara, squirming against the restraints that held her into the gurney.
He began unbuttoning her blouse, and Tara felt herself begin to pant.
“Oh, she likes that,” said the one raising her skirt, and running his hands over her thighs. “Your muscles are so tense, little whore. You’d better just relax.”
The first one unbuttoned the blouse as much as the waist restraint allowed, and examined her tits, in her cheap white cotton bra. He felt them through the bra again, squeezing them hard and making her moan, and then pulled the strap and cup down over her shoulder so one hard pink nipple was visible.
Biting her lips, Tara shook her head back and forth. “No, no, no, no.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” said the man. He unzipped his pants and took out his cock, which was already fully erect.
Tara cried out in fear, straining against her bonds.
“Oh, don’t worry, little whore,” said the first one, rubbing her erect nipple with his thumb. “I’m not going to fuck you, and I’m not going to hurt you.” He began stroking his cock with one hand, and then moved closer and touched the throbbing hot head of his cock against her puckered pink nipple.
Tara jerked as if burned, crying out again.
“Shhhhh,” he said, grabbing a handful of her hair – not pulling it just grabbing it, so that she couldn’t move her head without hurting herself – and began gently stroking his cock against her nipple, moaning softly with pleasure as he did so,
The other one, the one stroking her thighs, moved up and chuckled appreciatively and began touching her other breast through the bra, then pulled the cup down so the other nipple was exposed.
“Oh god, please,” said Tara, now arching her back and licking her lips involuntarily as the other one took out his erect cock and began stroking it slowly, also pushing his throbbing purple head against her nipple and firm white breast.
“Little whore likes that,” said the first one
“You love to have cocks on your tits, don’t you little bitch,” said the second one. “You want us to cum on your little pink nipples, you fucking whore?”
“I … I don’t …” Tara gasped, breathless.
“Liar,” said the first one. “Look how hard your nipples are.”
Three Days a Slave: The Complete Novel Page 1