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Flora had a very restless night. After the daylong ordeal at the hands of Tudor’s two friends she longed for a flat surface to lie on. The room under the porch wasn’t long enough for her to do that and with her hands secured behind her back it was even more uncomfortable.
At least she was cleaner than earlier in the evening. She was no longer hungry and they had left her a water bottle with a straw in the room. She managed to lie on her side, curled up on the floor but after a while that began to hurt her shoulder because of the cuffs. She tossed and turned for a while and finally decided to sit up and lean against the wall and sleep.
The faint screams of a woman woke her up. She figured it was the house slave enduring a session at the hands of her owner. Maybe she was being whipped outside. Flora thought about her. She looked so neat and tidy, her dark brown hair neatly tied, her white bra covering fairly large breasts, the loose gray boyshorts covering her privates. Yes, she was without makeup or any grooming whatsoever, but she looked like she had a more comfortable existence than Flora. Flora’s shoulder-length dirty blond hair was a tangled mess, her small breasts were still firm but her nipples were sore from the prolonged clamping that day. Her bush was wild and untamed, a sharp contrast to the shaved existence she maintained prior to her rehabilitation at the hands of her Master. She tried not to think of all the good stuff she used to enjoy. Instead she focused on blocking out the noises and catch some sleep.
She finally fell asleep but before long she was woken up by the sound of the door opening. It was the house slave. She helped Flora out of the room and onto her feet. It was dawn and the air was warm and the birds were chirping. Flora looked at the house slave, she looked very different from the previous evening. The bra was gone, her hair was untied and disheveled. There were streaks of mud on her side and back. Her face was tear-streaked and the boyshorts were ripped on both sides and on the back.
“What happened to you?” Flora softly asked her.
“Nothing unusual. We don’t have time, I have to prepare you for the day,” she replied, “Master won’t like it if we waste time.”
She freed Flora’s hands and took her to the sink on the porch. She handed her a toothbrush and asked her to freshen up. “Wash you face and hands, I’ll bring your food,” she said before disappearing into the kitchen.
Flora enjoyed the cool water from the sink. The slave emerged from the kitchen with a bottle of water and a bowl of pellets. “Eat up,” she said.
As Flora ate she could hear a lot of activity going on inside the house. The Master was awake. A car pulled up in the front of the house and there were a few more voices. Flora recognized one as Tudor’s voice. She wondered if she would ever get back on the course or was it just a ruse to make her a captive on the island, away from the relative comforts of her own Master’s home.
After breakfast Flora was taken to the outhouse where she relieved herself and was carefully washed by the slave. “They want you clean else both of us will be in trouble,” she said. Of course, her hair, legs and upper body remained unwashed. Flora liked how the slave used her fingers to wash her. She wanted to return the compliment but knew that wasn’t going to happen. She was dried with a towel and taken back to the porch to wait.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Flora the troublemaker,” Tudor said as he came outside, “I take it you gave up on the course.”
Flora jumped up and without looking at him replied, “No, Sir. I fell into a trap.”
“Come with me,” Tudor said, grabbing her arm and leading her into the house. They went upstairs into a bedroom.
Flora was in what was known as an “airplane” position. Her legs were spread and secured at the ankles. She was bent forward and her arms were tied to separate posts behind her with just enough pressure on her shoulders to make the slightest movement painful. A metal ring was locked around her neck and a fixed to a post in the ground so that she couldn’t move her head which was now at a slight angle so that she could look in front of her instead of at the ground.
A few inches from her face was the house slave. Her 5’6” frame dangled from the ceiling. She was suspended by her wrists, her legs were folded at the knees and also secured to the same ceiling beam. The height was adjusted so that her hips were at the same height as Flora’s face. The torn boyshorts still clung to her. She rotated slowly from the ceiling. Flora looked up and saw that she had been blindfolded and gagged.
As the body rotated it was flogged with a 9-tails. The nine thin leather straps landed in random parts of the hapless slave’s body as she whimpered through her gag. With each set of lashes spaced apart, the pain was allowed to subside. Flora felt sorry for her, she seemed so nice. But Flora herself was in no happy situation. Unable to move and in a very uncomfortable position she didn’t know what lay in store for her. But she soon found out as the three men took turns fucking her from behind. Each one thrusted hard into her, comfortably sliding into her damp pussy and pushing until they were on the verge of an orgasm when they pulled out. They didn’t squirt cum on her this time around. But their movements put pressure on Flora’s restraints and soon she was overcome with pain in her upper arms. As one fucked her, another lashed the house slave who continued to rotate from the ceiling beam.
Flora felt something being pushed into her ass, it felt like a butt plug covered in lubricant. As soon as it was halfway in Tudor slapped her butt cheeks with a rubberized paddle. It stung and Flora screamed in pain. The next two slaps were strategic, driving the plug deeper into her ass, stretching her tight asshole and preparing her for larger and longer things.
They made her wait for a bit. Her pussy was throbbing from all the pounding and her arms were very sore. But all the torment and humiliation didn’t prevent her from being perpetually aroused. Her pussy was dripping wet. She wondered if the house slave was similarly aroused. Her Master came up to her and ripped her boyshorts some more and lashed her breasts a few times. The 9-tails left long red marks that quickly subsided. She was sweating. Her sweat poured from her hairy armpits down her sides. Flora caught a glimpse of her hairy pussy through the ripped boyshorts which Tudor finally removed and tossed aside, leaving her hanging naked. Flora could smell her, she was hanging so close to her face. The combination of pussy juices and sweat made Flora long to taste her. It was truly intoxicating. She had occasionally caught a taste of her fellow slaves back at her Master’s place. She knew she was breaking the rules but she couldn’t help it. Once she even made out with one of Tudor’s girls in the woods. She was lucky to not get caught.
Before her mind could wander too far the butt plug was pulled out and she was subjected to the real thing. They wore condoms and slid into her ass, leaning over her bent frame and taking turns. Flora moaned loudly, it was mostly pleasurable but by the time the third cock was in her she was getting sore. Luckily, he was quick to cum.
The men left the room, each having enjoyed two orgasms and a session of tormenting two slaves who remained in their respective positions except that the house slave had stopped rotating and her pussy faced Flora.
The dangling house slave moaned as she continued to dangle from the ceiling. Flora was exhausted and sore. The men were downstairs having a good laugh. Flora hoped they would come back and take her out of her restraints soon. She was getting thirsty and had to pee.
They did come back soon and they did untie the girls. Both were standing in the middle of the room rubbing their arms. The house slave was out of her gag and blindfold. They were given water bottles. Flora didn’t dare to ask for permission to pee. She wanted to wait and see what they had in store for them.
They were led back outside into the hot morning sun. They were made to stand next to each other, bodies touching, in the middle of the yard. The men remained in the house for some more time.
“What’s your name,” Flora asked the house slave.
“They call me Violet,” she whispered.
“How long have you been here?” Flora asked.
“Four years. I’m 24. What about you,” she responded.
“Two years. I’m almost 21 but I’m not sure what the date is today.”
The conversation ended as Tudor emerged from the house holding sneakers, an ankle chain and two ankle bracelets.
“You’re going back on the course,” he said with a smile, “both of you.” He proceeded to secure Flora’s left ankle to Violet’s right ankle. The chain was one foot long. The ankle bracelets were placed on their other ankles.
“Same rules,” he continued, “no mercy if you stray or get trapped this time. Now get a move on.” He gave them a push and they hustled off into the woods, working out their steps so that they wouldn’t trip as a result of the ankle chain.
As soon as they were out of sight Flora stopped and said she had to pee. Both squatted where they were and relieved themselves onto the ground below them. Then they got up, grabbed each other’s hands and began walking up the narrow path. The green light on their ankle bracelet was a good sign. They disappeared into the woods.
At long last they found a green flag. The bag contained pellets and four bottles of water. They had no idea how long they had been on the path but they were exhausted and hungry. They leaned against a tree and ate in silence, eating the pellets one by one, Flora even counted that she ate 65 pellets. With all the water, she felt full and contented.
Both were sweaty and sore. It was much hotter now though the tall trees sheltered them from the sun. They decided to take a break and rest for some time. They lay out on the rough ground and closed their eyes. Soon they were fast asleep.
They must’ve slept for a few hours. Violet woke up with a start and shook Flora, “wake up, we should make it to the next flag before it gets dark.”
Flora looked up, all dazed and smiled. “Relax,” she said, “we’ll find our way just fine.” She grabbed Violet’s hand and got up, continuing to look her in the eyes, smiling all the way.
“No, you don’t understand,” Violet said, “they know where we are and if we fall behind they will trap us. The next trap will be worse than the last one for you, and me.”
Flora could feel her pussy get very wet. She was enjoying their predicament but figured that Violet wasn’t going to relax any more so she got up. Clutching a half-empty water bottle each, they made their way back along the path. The path began to thin out and turn into thick growth again. Stopping frequently to check their ankle bracelets, they thrashed their way through the growth until the red light came on. They stepped back and moved sideways, the red light stayed on. Finally, after a moment of panic and random movements in the thick growth, the light turned green and they found themselves on another path.
This part of the forest was darker. The sun was still up but it barely made it through the trees. They tossed their empty water bottles aside and paused to pee. They went a little further and saw what looked like a blue flag. As they approached it the red light came on Flora’s bracelet but not Violet’s.
“That’s strange. This is obviously a resting spot for us but only I seem to have permission,” Violet said. They took a step back so that both lights were green. Flora stood still as Violet lay prone on the ground and reached for the flag and pulled it along with the bag it was attached to towards them.
“At least we’re both in a legal spot right here,” she said, “but that looks like a small cave.”
They opened the bag. There were two apples and two bananas, a packet of pellets and four bottles of water. Also, there were two single serving mouthwash bottles as well as wipes.
“We’ve struck gold,” Flora said.
They ate their sumptuous (by recent standards) meal and freshened up with the mouthwash and wipes. They took their sneakers off and stretched out on the ground.
They lay on their sides. Flora looked at Violet and stroked her face and hair. “you’re very pretty,” she said, “is this the first time you’ve been naked this long?”
“No, I’ve gone long stretches before. They clothe me in underwear when someone new arrives at the house,” Violet replied, “what about you?”
“I’ve been naked since day one. It’s nice for the most part. These Masters make sure we don’t get exposed to the elements, except for now.”
“Yeah. We shouldn’t be talking too much about our Masters. I’m not sure if these ankle bracelets are transmitting our words,” Violet said softly.
Flora had slid closer and as Violet’s words trailed off she kissed her on the lips. Violet responded and they were kissing passionately. Their warm mouths locked, their tongues rolling around, they tasted the mouthwash. Flora began to move her hands along Violet’s side and then up to her breasts, cupping the firm round breasts, which were larger than hers and supported with a bra every now and then.
Flora kissed Violet around her neck and down to her breasts. She sucked on her nipples, one by one, cupping the other breast at the same time. They were both dripping wet. Violet was fingering herself as Flora sucked on her erect nipples.
With the ankle chain getting in the way, Flora knelt between Violet’s legs and bent over, spreading her legs and bringing her tongue towards Violet’s pussy. Her bush was dark and thick and locked in her smells, now a combination of sweat, juices and wipes. She parted her pussy lips with her fingers and began sucking on her clit. Then she put her fingers inside her sticky pussy and began moving them, all the while sucking and licking her clit as Violet lay back and moaned loudly, rolling her own nipples with her fingers.
Flora continued to lick and finger-fuck Violet. Her fingers were sticky and she had three of them inside her. She was rubbing herself with her free hand and both were on the verge of explosive orgasms. When they came Violet ‘s juices flowed even stronger, flooding Flora’s fingers and mouth as she lapped up every bit. Flora came up to Violet and began kissing her, giving Violet a taste of herself. Exhausted, they fell asleep in each others’ arms and didn’t notice that both of their ankle bracelets had been blinking red for a while.
Violet woke up in the middle of the night and drank some water. She happened to catch a glimpse of the ankle bracelet and shook Flora awake.
“What is it,” mumbled Flora.
“It’s red again,” Violet replied, in a panic.
“It’s OK,” Flora said, “we’ll just move and see what happens.”
It was pitch black as they got up. Clutching their water bottles they backtracked away from their spot. No luck. They moved closer to the cave. Still no luck.
They saw a clearing between two trees. There was a wooden platform of some sort but there was some obstruction at chest height so they had to crouch and they stepped on the platform. The light momentarily turned green, then red and there was a loud noise. A trap door fell and locked them inside a small wooden box. Another trap.
Grabbing each other they slumped to the ground. “We’re so screwed,” Violet said over and over again.
“Relax, Violet,” Flora said, trying to comfort her even though she was panicking inside, “we’ll just have to wait.
They came for the box at the crack of dawn. They hoisted it onto the bed of a truck and drove off. Violet and Flora clutched one another and didn’t make a sound. When they reached the destination the box was carried off the truck and onto something else. It was a boat. They were transferred to another island.
The box was taken off the boat and wheeled off the beach. It was finally opened and the two terrified girls crawled out into the morning sun, shielding their eyes as they knelt on the soft ground. Two men stood before them: Flora’s Master and Violet’s Master.
“On your feet,” Flora’s Master ordered. Flora helped Violet up. Neither said a word or looked at their Masters.
“Had fun last night?” Violet’s Master asked, “I bet you enjoyed having this licked,” he said sticking his hand between Violet’s legs and roughly rubbing her pussy. He wiped his hands on Violet’s face. Flora’s Master went around and cuffed their hands behind their backs. Then he took two leather belts and secured their arms by tying the belts around their upper bodies, one above the breasts and one below the breasts. The belts were tight but didn’t cut off circulation. Violet’s Master moved in and blindfolded the girls and unlocked the ankle chain. He put individual chains on them.
With their upper bodies secured, each Master grabbed his respective slave and led them into the woods along the sandy path. Finally they reached a spot where they were made to squat on opposite sides of a tree. They were facing the tree, hunched forwards, legs spread as much as the ankle chain would allow. A chain wrapped around the tree and two metal collars were attached to the chain. Their necks were locked in the collars. Another chain was used to wrap their ankles around the trunk of the tree so that they couldn’t move.
Virtually immobilized and very uncomfortable, the slaves withstood their punishment. They were given water and then ball-gagged. A hood was placed over their head. They were secured and cut off from the surroundings. They could only hear sounds and moan and groan through their gags. Holes had been dug below them so that they could relieve themselves and not have puddles form between their legs.
Flora and Violet were sweating. They couldn’t move much. They were thirsty and hungry. After a couple of hours their hoods were lifted and their gags were removed. Their Masters had blended the pellets with water and fed that to them and allowed them more water to wash it down. Then they gagged them and left them for a few more hours. As the day wore on, they were given water two more times and pellets one more time. The sensation had long gone from their legs. Their tortured existence was getting worse by the minute. Tears soaked their blindfolds, sweat coated their bodies and piss filled the hole below them.
Violet and Flora lay on the ground. The sun was shining brightly. Their legs and necks had been freed from the tree but they couldn’t really get up. Flora slowly flexed her legs to bring back the sensation in them. Their arms were still cuffed and tied. She rolled onto her stomach and flexed her knees slowly. Violet just lay there in a daze, keeping her eyes shut.
They were fed and pulled to their feet. Both struggled and stumbled for several yards as they were marched through the forest by their Masters who were holding whips. They didn’t hesitate to use them if the slaves slowed down. Finally, after an hour of stumbling through the woods they came to their destination.
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