Slave Ship Read online

  Henry had finished her groin by now and moved around behind her to check out the space between her buttocks. We wanted her totally smooth with not even a single whisker of hair left below her eyebrows.

  I sat on the stool just vacated by Henry and stared at her now naked labia. Oh yes, much better. I had read somewhere that Muslim men demand their women keep themselves quite smooth down hair and since this coincided with my own dislike of hair on the human body, I had eagerly taken it on board as a requirement for the Helot.

  Her vagina was nearly flat, the mound almost non-existent, which satisfied another fetish of mine. I know many men delight in a prominent mound and thick, fleshy lips. I don’t. I like a girl’s cunt to be as flat as a man’s usually is, and the lips nearly non-existent, the opening a mere slit between the two sides. Allison was just like that and I smiled as I allowed my fingers to slide up and down the now hairless, so soft lips, then delve between them, seeking out her love-bud.

  I had no idea how promiscuous she was. She wasn’t a virgin, I soon established that, but then very few girls over eighteen were, these days. Hell, very few girls over sixteen or even younger, were. I glanced up at her face as I found her clit and began to tickle it. She snarled down at me and I grinned. Good, the fire was still there.

  “Not enjoying a little gratuitous sex, slut?” I asked jovially.

  “You animal!” she spat “You, filthy, perverted, bastard...”

  Henry poked his head around from behind her, holding up his prodder. I nodded briefly and removed my hand from her body. I didn’t want to feel the shocks...

  “Aaagheeeaaaghooowwwghaaagh!” she screamed, her whole body now shaking uncontrollably as the awful pain of the shocks tore at her very being.

  “Had enough?” I asked mildly.

  Her eyes were wild now and sweat gilded her lovely skin as she stared down at me. “How long are you going to do these horrible things to me?” she asked plaintively.

  “As long as it takes,” I said promptly. “As long as you resist and oppose me, you will be punished. It’s quite simple. Accept your new life, learn the lessons Henry is going to teach you, and all this will stop. Or at least the daily application of it will. You will still be subject to the whip or other things when a client desires to use them on you, but for the most part, that will be seldom.” I paused a moment or two, looking at her speculatively. “So, young, aristocratic Miss Allison Howard, when are you going to realise you have no choice but to accept your lot?”

  “Never!” she said heroically - but very foolishly - and received another jolt, this time with the tines shoved unceremoniously up between her buttocks and against the sensitive ring of her anus.

  Again she screamed: “Aaagheeeaaaghooowwwghaaagh!” and I grinned at her - and at the agony written all over her face.

  “Your choice,” I said nonchalantly, as if I cared not one whit for her resistance. Of course I did. If she resisted too long, it would take too much of Henry’s time for when we began to get the rest of the girls, he would need to spend time with them as well.

  “Put her in a punishment bridle and hood and hogtie her,” I said to Henry at which he grinned back at me.

  “Sure thing, boss...”

  William let her down until her feet were again on the deck while Henry went for the necessary items. First though, William smeared her newly plucked vagina and the area between her buttocks, as well as her legs and underarms with the depilatory. This was most effective but was unfortunately far too painful to have a commercial application, except for those women who were really dedicated, anyway. Already, she was feeling the burning pain of the chemicals that would find their way down into the hair follicles and then eat away the roots, making the removal of her hairs permanent. She screamed again, this time in real pain as the burning got worse and worse. Soon however, she wouldn’t be able to scream and would be forced to keep her agony to herself...

  The bridle was placed on her first. It was a horrible device, if I do say so myself. It had straps that could be tightened painfully around and over a girl’s head and had the added torment of a steel bit that would be pulled right to the back of her mouth, forcing her to keep it wide open and to drool all the while. There were also eye-pads that totally excluded all light and ear-pads with soft, shaped inserts that performed the same function as regards sound. When it was placed on her head and the appropriate buckles tightened, she would be quite bereft of the senses of sight and sound.

  She stared at the mass of steel and leather and shook her head as Henry approached her with it in his hand. She was still spreadeagled but no longer up high and it took but moments for him grasp her head in one powerful arm and then to slip the leather straps over her head and proceed to tighten first one and then the other of them until the pads were tight over her ears and eyes and the bit pulled hard back into her now wide open mouth. All she could do now was to utter gah-gah noises while William and Henry now undid her manacles.

  We all then trooped down to her cell where Henry now locked her wrists together behind her back, did the same with her ankles and after pushing her down onto the deck, face down, connected her ankles and wrists together - an effective hogtie. And there we left her to contemplate her future in utter darkness, without any sound at all, naked - totally so now her hairy parts had been depilated; lying on her belly on the hard steel of the deck with her arms pulled back down towards her naked buttocks and her legs folded back over her thighs and chained to her wrists.

  I had no doubt she would be a lot more amenable tomorrow morning.

  Meanwhile, we proceeded to treat the other eleven girls in exactly the same way. They were not as difficult as Allison but we still gave them the full treatment, applying rod or prodder the moment there was the slightest sign of rebellion. I was very pleased with our first few days and as the ship made her way south, towards Gibraltar and the Mediterranean, I had reason to celebrate. The first stage of my new venture was going very well.

  Once the other girls had been similarly denuded, we were ready to begin the next stage.

  Not all had been bridled and hogtied and left in their cells. Some, those who had been more cooperative, such as Ratana, the lovely young thing from Thailand, we left free, still alone in her cell, but at least without the humiliating and painful bridle. Some, such as Juma, one of the Africans, who had been difficult, but not exactly recalcitrant, wore only the bridle.

  The next stage was the ringing of the noses, tits and the labia majora of the vaginas of the slaves. As before, we began with Allison.

  She had been left for twenty-four hours in total darkness and without any sound at all able to penetrate her ear-plugs and still hog-tied. It was a draconian treatment, I admit, but as I said, we didn’t have time to waste on recalcitrants. When we released her, she was just about all in and had to be helped up while Henry dribbled water into her mouth. Her eyes were bleary and she didn’t seem to be with us but I knew she would soon recover. She was strong, this young Howard.

  True to my predictions, within an hour she was able to walk and Henry brought her back to the clinic where she was again spreadeagled. She showed a lot less resistance now and I told her she was now going to be ringed.

  “Will it hurt, master?” she said.

  “It will. You must learn to absorb pain for you are going to find your masters in the future will delight in punishing you...”

  She didn’t say anything but I could see a measure of that old fire returning and I smiled. She really was strong. William had already prepared his instruments. He would be using three electric soldering irons, each specially adapted for his purpose. The needle on the one for the septum of the nose was curved into an arc so it would not damage her nostrils as it passed through her septum. That used on her nipples was very fine while the one he would use on her labia majora was a little thicker for the rings to be inserted there were going to b
e much larger.

  “First the nose,” said myth good doctor, approaching her with the curved tip of the iron now glowing a dull red.

  Dr William Strange was well-named. He was a cadaverous-looking individual who had chosen medicine as his profession only because it would enable him to see the naked bodies of his clients. Unfortunately, after only a year in practice, he was struck off for a rather too intrusive interest in a couple of his clients. He was also nicely sadistic and would have made a perfect scientist in one of Hitler’s research establishments. Nevertheless he was also a competent physician and surgeon and suited our purposes down to the ground.

  Allison stared at the thing in his hand in fear and horror but she didn’t say anything. By now, she had learned we did not threaten idly and Henry was standing by, his prodder in his right hand, the little tell-tale indicating it was charged and ready to hurt her. Not that the pain of the piercing wouldn’t hurt. She knew it was going to be awful but she already knew how bad the shocks to her flesh were and she didn’t want any more of them.

  Henry now put down the prodder and moved up behind her, holding her head in his arm. William was quick. The hot metal took only a second or two to burn through the gristle and then he withdrew it. She screamed of course. A long, blood-curdling cry of anguish as the red-hot metal burned through her nose. But then it was over and her scream abated to sobs and then silence. Her eyes were glazed for a few moments but then as I watched, the fire returned and although she didn’t actually say anything as she had before, they told me of her hate and defiance. I didn’t mind. We had plenty of other methods of taming her but I suspected once this session was over, she would be cowed. I might not be right, of course. She was very strong and perhaps it would take a few days on some of the other instruments of pain in the Punishment Room along the corridor.

  There was no blood. The red hot steel had cauterised her flesh as it drove through. The ring was inserted immediately by William’s assistant. It was made of stainless steel as would be all their rings and it was made so that once it was closed, it could not be opened again. The nose model was quite large. The metal was an eighth of an inch thick and the ring, two inches in diameter. She would need to fold it back up over her nose to feed...

  These rings had cost me dear but I had the money and I wanted only the best. They were hinged and as I say, had catches that once closed, could not be opened. Also, once closed, there was no sign of either the hinge or the catch. They appeared to be quite seamless. Very expensive but quite beautiful. They would mark the girls forever as slaves.

  Allison’s eyes crossed as she tried to stare down at the thing she must have thought of as quite horrible now dangling from the centre of her nose. Everyone has seen pictures or cartoons of African slaves with such rings in their noses. Now she had one of her own and I knew she must have been shamed by it to the very depths of her soul. Here was a scion of one of England’s oldest aristocratic houses and now a naked, depilated and ringed slave. Oh yes, wonderful indeed.

  William now returned to his bench, placing the septum iron in its holder and taking up the one with the fine needle - the one he would use on her nipples. As he did so, his assistant was rubbing and pinching them, erecting them for the attention of the needle that would soon make holes in them both.

  William handed his assistant a pair of forceps to grasp the end of the nipple and then, as the now ringed Allison watched in more horror (but still held her peace), he quickly made horizontal holes in both of them, one after the other. She cried out at each one but here the pain was only momentary and she quickly recovered. She didn’t like the look of the rings that were now going to grace her breasts however. They were not quite as big as her nose-ring but not that far short at one and a half inches. They hung down from the tips of her breasts, gleaming brightly and, with the ring in her nose, marking her as a slave.

  Now it was time to pierce her nether lips.

  As I said, they were not prominent and therefore Peter, Dr Strange’s assistant had to use two forceps to draw each of them out for the red hot needle on the iron to obtain a clear access. The surgeon did both sides before inserting the ring so as to make sure the holes were perfectly matched. This took a little longer for the flesh of the labia majora is thicker than either the septum of her nose or the little nubs of her nipples and she screamed beautifully as the glowing needle passed through each one.

  Here, the ringing was different. I had provided two different rings for this part of her body. We could fit her with a single ring. This one was adjustable. It could tightened right down and therefore used to seal up her vagina so she couldn’t even obtain access to her clit, or opened to allow penetration. Or we could insert two fixed rings to allow her master of the moment to use them to draw her lips wide open or even simply to give her pain. These two types of ring were of course removable. I thought my ideas here were quite masterful...

  As a start, we used the single ring but didn’t tighten it, allowing the wounds to heal with her lips in the natural position.

  Once more she was returned to her cell, this time with only her wrists locked together behind her back. We didn’t want her touching the rings. Even though the wounds were cauterised by the red-hot metal, Dr Strange had poured spirits over all of them and the rings and he would be watching all the girls carefully for signs of infection but he wasn’t expecting any trouble in this regard. The clinic had been carefully scrubbed before he began and the girls’ cells thoroughly steam-cleaned and he had observed all the proper methods of hygiene in his preparations for the little operations.

  After Allison, each of the other girls was similarly ringed, marking her as a slave.

  As part of my security system for the ship, I had installed a closed circuit surveillance camera in all appropriate places on the ship including the cells. I sat in the control room now and watched Allison as she tried to cope with this latest of indignities. She sat against the back wall of her cell, her shapely legs stretched out before her and her hands behind her back against the wall (since they were cuffed together). She stared down at the ring locking her vaginal lips together and gave a sob or two now and then as she contemplated her future.

  She looked magnificent now. The ring dangling from her nose gave her the look of a slave and those at her breasts and vagina were even more savage, marking her wonderfully as a sex-slave and not simply a menial.

  But the piece-de-resistance was still to come. She, and the other eleven were still to be branded. I had given a lot of thought to this and had decided that it, above all else we would do to them, would make them understand once and for all that they were now slaves - permanently so, and the marks on their bodies, unlike the rings that could be removed, would be everlasting reminders of their fate. Admittedly, removing the rings in their noses and breasts would involve some difficulty, but it could be done and the holes could either be covered or hidden with cosmetics. Not so the brand. Oh yes, it could be covered, but the girl would always be aware it was there, down on her belly.

  For the mark, I had decided on a rather bizarre emblem: it was the outline of a man’s cock and balls - a more shameful badge I couldn’t think of, but it was one I knew would amuse my clients...

  The brand itself had been carefully crafted of high-grade stainless steel so that the edge that would actually burn into their flesh was fine and would create a perfect and very clear mark once the burn was healed. This piece had been carefully welded onto the end of the largest size electric soldering iron we could find so that all of the metal tip heated evenly, making a perfect brand every time.

  For this ceremony, I had all twelve of the girls assembled together.

  They were brought into the Punishment Room, one by one, by their trainer and pushed up against a wall that had horizontal bars fitted to the wall and fixed about six inches out from it. The bars were six inches apart and ran from deck-head to deck and were ideal to secure a
slave or slaves for the whip or cane. Now, it would be perfect for their branding.

  You will recall the Punishment Room was a very large area with swivelling seats in the centre and with various items of torture equipment ranged around the space between the walls and the seats. The bars were situated in an area clear of other equipment, allowing an unfettered view of proceedings.

  Each girl was locked to the bars with her hands held up high and her feet spread as wide as we could get them. A long metal rod was then placed against their waists and secured at various points to keep their middles immobile.

  This ceremony had been widely advertised to both crews and everyone not absolutely essential to the safety of the ship was present, sitting in the rows of seats or ranged around the other three walls, to watch as these first twelve girls were branded.

  There was no talking in the room once the last girl had been brought in and secured and the rod put in place and pulled tight against their bellies. Each man there knew this was high drama and that an act of pure barbarism, not seen, at least in the western world, for centuries, was about to be perpetrated on these girls, all unwilling victims of my agents and soon to become the best sex-slaves in the world.

  Dr Strange had been practising on lumps of meat out of the refrigerator and he had told me he was sure of being able to inflict a perfect brand every time. “It takes just the right temperature and pressure to achieve the best result, Brian,” he had said. “Too hot, and the surrounding flesh is affected; too cold and it doesn’t burn properly. Too hard and you risk the underlying tissue of the muscle itself...”

  He had provided a lead long enough to reach the last girl and now his iron was glowing at just the right temperature.

  Of course the girls weren’t happy. Indeed, some of them were downright unhappy. Terrified would be a better description but I was determined to proceed. A ringed and branded slavegirl would be suitably chastened and would in any case, be a real drawcard to my clients. Some of the girls were crying, other were actually screaming. We didn’t try to stop them. Let them scream. It would be even worse once the red-hot metal burned into their flesh - far worse than the tiny pain as the red-hot needles had pierced their flesh. That had been only momentary; this would be a good long burn - around five seconds and the pain would last for days.