Idetta remained motionless for a bit, then without yet pulling her skirt down or re-buttoning her white cotton blouse, she looked in the mirror. She saw the same reflection as before, a pleasant face, soft brown eyes whose lids were slightly hooded with a few wrinkles. Also a few wrinkles around the mouth. She thought to herself, “This is the face of a middle-aged Haus Frau, not a woman who has just been bent over the sink in the water closet of a D Zug and assaulted.” She paused, then, “No. Assaulted isn’t the correct word. I did not protest; don’t you have to protest for what happed to be called an assault. I neither told him not to, nor did I consent. Perhaps this is just the face of an old woman who has just been bent over and fucked by a younger man.” Then Idetta straightened her skirt and re-buttoned her blouse and went back to her seat as if nothing had ever happened.

Once seated, her mind began to wander. She thought, “I remember that Russian girl – what was her name; it seems so long ago now. Oh yes, Nastascha. Later she was sold to that Ukrainian man. She once told me after I was taken by a man and actually had an orgasm that I had the makings of a sex slave. Perhaps she was correct because, I did not protest Jonas taking me and in fact, enjoyed it. Enjoyed the actual act, but what about the fear of being caught. How humiliating that would have been. But even about humiliation I must admit I have mixed feelings.” The voice on the intercom came on announcing another stop. “No. This is not my stop either. I still have several to go before I get off the train and go to the little cottage where Hans and I used to live.” Then her thoughts went back to Haus der Sklavin and the girl named Nastascha. “I wonder what happened to her. The man who bought her – I think his name was Stefan - was Ukrainian. I wonder if he took her back to Ukraine, and if he did what has happened to them since the Russians have invaded.” Then Idetta had a vision of Stefan lying dead on a street and Nastascha being manhandled by Russian soldiers. “If that were to happen, I cannot imagine that her Fate would be kind. I remember growing up, my own Oma who before the last world war lived in Berlin telling me stories of the Russian soldiers and how they treated German women. I hope that isn’t Nastascha’s Fate.”

Idetta continued to think about Nastascha and what had possibly happened to her. Then her thought s were interrupted again, “This D Zug is arriving at the main Stuttgart Banhof.” Now, Idetta said out loud, “This is my stop.”

Idetta at Haus der Sklavin: Part Twenty Three

Two days later Idetta and Nastascha were serving in the bar area of Haus der Sklavin – that area where customers might comer for refreshment as well as to pick out a slave with whom they might pass the time. Idetta knew that it was the last week of her contract – the one she had signed to see what slave training at Haus der Sklavin would be like. It was evidently the wish of her late husband, Hans, as Idetta had found the contract in his papers after his untimely death in a car accident.

It was about eight pm on a slow night and no one had yet chosen either woman. A valet approached and said, “Mistress Wilma has sent me to escort you two to the dungeon. There I something about to transpire there that she thinks you should see.” He then guided the two women to an area of the complex that Idetta had not been to before. Along the way, Idetta whispered to the Russian girl, “What do you think it is?”

Nasatascha responded, “I think I know, but am not sure.”

“No talking,” scolded the valet and both women fell silent. A moment later they were led down several flights of steps to a dungeon like area. It smelled of sweat, sex and urine. There Wilma was standing in front of a completely naked woman who was tied spread eagle on a dais similar to the one where Snejana had been placed when she was flogged on her sex. Kneeling beside Wilma was the young male slave that Nastascha had teased before Idetta was forced to go down on him about a week earlier. He, too, was completely naked save for a collar around his neck, bracelets on his wrists and a chastity device that held his penis and prevented him from getting erect. In her hand Wilma held a leash that was attached to the chastity device on the penis of Idetta noticed an Asian couple – he in a business suit and she in a traditional kimono – off to the side. And near the raised dais was an X shaped cross where another naked man was bound by his hands and feet. Like the young man, his penis was also encased in some type of metal cage. Idetta had not seen either the bound man or the girl on the dais previously during her stay at Haus der Sklavin.

Wilma addressed Idetta and Nastascha, “The girl on the dais is named Olga; her husband there bound to the cross is called Mischa. To escape extreme poverty, they answered a dark web advertisement for a couple of sex slaves to a wealthy Asian couple. The Tanakas have agreed to house and feed them in exchange for a vow of slavery and have sent them here to be trained. Strip completely. I want you two naked when you witness the ceremony that will mark their completion of training and entry into sexual servitude. Idetta, remember I told you that you would witness such aceremony.”

Idetta answered, “Yes, I remember.”

Then Wilma commanded, “You and Nastascha strip completely. You should also be naked when you witness this ceremony.”

That night in the small room at Haus der Sklavin that Idetta shared with the Russian girl, Nastascha, both had been chained to their beds. Spending the night in chains had been one of the hardest things for Idetta to get used to. With her hands fastened to the collar around her neck which was in turn chained to the bed post, she was not able to touch any part of her body save her neck and face. Wilma, the dominatrix who was usually in charge of securing Idetta and Nastascha had said, “It’s to keep you from masturbating at night.” Idetta had blushed slightly when Wilma told her that. “It’s just unusual, not being able to touch your own body,” thought Idetta. But truth be told, at home Idetta did occasionally masturbate in the security of her own bed. After the untimely death of her dear husband, Hans, it was her only release, and even then, she sometimes had trouble reaching orgasm.

Wilma had gone. Idetta and Nastascha heard the key turn in the lock – all the room doors at Haus der Sklavin were locked from the outside. Idetta tried to get comfort able – first trying to lie on her side before finally lying on her back. She realized that in this position her hands resembled a prayer like position. She thought, “Perhaps I should be praying. But praying for what? I came here of my own accord to satisfy what I thought was a fantasy of Hans. I found the contract for me to be trained as a sex slave among his papers after his death. And if what that man from Roissy told me was true, Hans had been to a place called Roissy where there were many women who worked as prostitutes and sex slaves. I would be hypocritical to pray for deliverance since I came on my own. Perhaps I should pray for courage to see this thing through to the end. But I have only less than a week until my contract is up. Then what? Maybe I should pray for guidance.”

Idetta’s thoughts were interrupted by Nastascha’s voice from the other side of the room. “Idetta, are you asleep?”

“No. And I am glad that you’re not. I want to ask you something.”

“OK. What?”

“Remember tonight at dinner when Wilma said that two slaves will complete their training and will be marked as trained by Haus der Sklavin.”

Nastascha replied, “Yes. Why?”

“What did she mean ‘marked’?”

Nastascha answered, “Well, when I was at Roissy, several of the girls, the ones whose lovers had brought them to Roissy and left them there, were considered property or slaves. Their lovers became, in fact, their Masters, and as such placed marks on them designating their status as personal slaves.”

“What type of marks?”

“It varied. Some times, girls might have their Master’s names or initials tattooed on them. I saw some who had a tattoo with a series of numbers. Evidently some type of registry number. The initials or numbers were usually tattooed on the back of the neck or in a more intimate spot. And many girls were pierced to show ownership. Often a girl’s sex would be pierced with a ring so that some sort of pendant with their Master’s name or insignia might be hung from it. The weight of the pendant pulling on the sex was a constant reminder of a girl’s status as a slave. And then, of course, there were the brands on a few.”

Idetta gasped, “Brands? As in branded with a hot iron?”

“Yes. If a Master wanted to mark his slave in a truly permanent way, she might be branded. I remember O had her Master’s initials burned into her rear. It has been several years ago now, but while she was here you could still see the brand, even though it has faded some. A girl like O will always bear the mark of her Master.”

Idetta responded, “And Wilma said two slaves would be marked this week as a sign they had completed training. I wonder what the mark will be.”

Arrivals: Part Two

In Ulm, a car met Zuri and Natascha. Natascha had a most uncomfortable ride on the train from Paris to Ulm; on the other hand, Zuri had enjoyed herself immensely.

In Bonn, Paul got off the train from Berlin and took a cab to the chief of Station’s office where he was to check in and meet his new teammate, an ex-naval officer named Ted. An hour later, Anne Claire got off the train from Stuttgart and was met by a woman from the consulate. She looked Anne Claire up and down and said, “Raymond said that you were pretty. He didn’t lie. Come with me; I have secured an apartment for you near the consulate.”

Meanwhile in Madam Gisele’s office, Stepan was having second thoughts. He looked at Gisele and said, “Although I feel like I can make an informed choice merely by reading the slaves’ biographies and seeing photos of them, would it be possible to view them in person?’

Madam Gisele responded, “Of course. I will arrange it right now. I assume you will want to view them naked.”

“Yes, of course.”

A short time later, the valets marched Idetta, Nastascha, Anastasia and Snejana into a small room with a raised wooden platform in the center. Each woman was made, in turn, to step up on the platform so that the Ukrainian man and Madam Gisele could examine them. Madam Gisele would run her crop over the women’s breasts causing their nipples to further stiffen in the cool evening air, then nudge open their thighs so that the sex would be exposed. Stepan studied each one closely.

Finally, he turned to Madam Gisele and said, “I appreciate being able to see each one of them in person, but it has only confirmed what I decided from the photos.”

Madam Gisele responded, “Oh good. Now let us go back to my office so that you may decided how you would like for your purchase to be marked.”

“Yes, I have some ideas for that,” said Stepan and they left the room.

While Stepan was meeting with Madam Giselle, dinner was being served to the slaves of Haus der Sklavin. At one table sat Nastascha, Anastasia and Snejana. Nastascha and Anastasia were in the normal day outfits for slaves – buff colored dresses that left the breasts exposed and were loose enough on the sides that it could be rolled up to expose the sex. Snejana, on the other hand, was completely nude. Earlier in the day, a valet had caught her masturbating in a toilet stall. Of course, she was immediately flogged, and as additional punishment she was stripped naked and her hands were bound behind her back. While Anastasia and Nastascha were served a meal of bread, fruit and red wine, all Snejana got was a bowl of red wine. Wilma, the dominatrix sat down beside the three women and said to Snejana, “Well, you will have to lap up your meager dinner like the bitch dog you are.” Then she laughed.

As Wilma watched Snejana try to lap up some of the wine, she said, “I saw that handsome Ukrainian man arrive today. Nice build with straw colored hair and steel gray eyes. If I liked men, I could go for him. But one of you lucky bitches, or possibly that old sow, Idetta, will soon belong to him.”

Hearing Idetta’s name, Nastascha looked up at Wilma and said, “I thought Idetta was gone. Her voluntary contract was up, wasn’t it?” Wilma responded, “No, your ‘girlfriend’ is still here. Her contract was up, but the old sow chose to voluntarily become a sex slave. Why? Who knows? Perhaps to honor her dead husband’s fantasy, or maybe her own fantasy. Anyway, she’s still here and will be along shortly. Who knows? Maybe the Ukrainian likes old women.”

Then Wilma looked over at Snejana who had her head down towards the wine bowl. Wilma reached over and pushing down on Snejana’s blonde hair pushed her face down into the wine. Snejana jerked her head up, and wine ran down her chin before dripping onto her ample breasts. The nearby valets laughed at the sight.

A large chauffer driven Mercedes pulled up to a fenced gate at a location in southern Germany. The gate guard went to the car as the chauffer rolled down the window. “Your business here?” inquired the guard.

The chauffer replied, “A Mr. Stepan Y. to see a Madam Gisele,” replied the driver. And the gate waved the car into the compound.

A short time later, a valet led Stepan, a brutally handsome, well dressed man, into a furnished office. There behind the desk, sat the woman known as Madam Gisele. She was dressed in a black leather dress and boots and held a riding crop in her hands. She rose and addressed the man. “I trust you had no trouble finding us?” He replied, “No. Not really. Your directions were splendid. Although I must say, Haus der Sklavin is truly tucked away.”

Madam Gisele replied, “We like it that way. Authorities do not always approve of what we do here. This old Luftwaffe base suits our needs. But enough of that. You had inquired about acquiring a female slave.”

“Yes. Rather than trying to get one from the brothels in Minsk or the Balkans, I have heard that you specialize in well trained submissives. I am relocating to Crete for a while and want some female companionship. You do come highly recommended for that sort of thing.”

Madam Gisele then slid a book across the table saying, “Here are some photos of what we have available at present. I am afraid our stock is low; only five. The book contains photos of them and notes about talents, background, characteristics and such. But if none of those are suitable, I have two others coming in shortly – a German prostitute and a Byelorussian dissident. Of course, they may need some training, but if you want one of them, you would be welcome to stay in our guest quarters.”

The man called Stepan perused the album. It contained the following notations below a photograph of each of the five:

Nastascha: A dark haired Russian who was originally trained and acquired from the famous Roissy Chateau. Late twenties. She has been here at Haus der Sklavin for several months now undergoing additional training. A true Slavic beauty with a stunning figure.

Snejana: A blonde Polish girl. Mid-twenties. Medium build. Acquired from some human traffickers several months ago. Has undergone training here.

Anastasia: A young, slender Byelorussian, early twenties. Acquired at the same time as the Polish girl. Seems to be not overly intelligent, but striking looks.

Anne Claire: A French girl in her late twenties. Pretty face. Dark hair and hazel eyes. Acquired from traffickers only several weeks ago. Still in training, but available for the right price.

Idetta: A mature German beauty. Interesting background. – a voluntary sex slave. Completed training.

Stepan looked closely at the photographs of each woman. All had been photographed in the nude with several photos taken from various angles. He lingered over two – Nastascha and Idetta. Finally, he asked, “Just how old is the German woman?” Madam Gisele answered, “She will be 50 her next birthday – in October.”

Stepan pondered for a bit and finally said, “I have made my choice.”

And as Stepan made his choice, the other Mercedes with Klaus, the trafficker approached the gate at Haus der Sklavin, followed closely by the panel van that contained Irina and Renata.

Idetta thought about the past several hours since Wilma, the dominatrix, had let the two women ‘get to know one another better’ as she so delicately put it. It had not taken long for Nastascha to crawl into bed with Idetta. Idetta still recalled the heavy scent of Nastascha’s perfume; it was a mixture of spices and woodsy odors that overwhelmed Idetta. It clung to Nastascha in all the right places – pulse points on her neck and wrists, in her long dark hair, in the furrow of her breasts and very much so in her pubic area. “No wonder that young boy was nearly overcome when he was chained to the X-shaped cross and you went down on him. You smell like sex itself,” thought Idetta. And Nastascha worked on Idetta like sex itself – using her tongue and fingers to explore all of Idetta’s hidden places, bringing her to pleasure many times. Idetta remembered Nastascha saying, “You are so beautiful when I make you come. I have been wanting to taste you, feel you, possess you ever since I first saw you. I love you, Idetta.”

Idetta looked at Nastascha and thought, “I wonder what the future holds for you, young girl.” Then after a bit, “And I wonder what it holds for me. Today marks the end of my contract at Haus der Sklavin. I came here because I found a letter from my dear late husband Hans where he had a contract with Haus der Sklavin to train me as a sex slave. Imagine! Hans, who never seemed to like sex so much. Well, I have honored his wishes. For the past six weeks I have been here. I have seen other women and men undergo things I never thought possible. Stripped naked and taken by strangers. Humiliated. Whipped. Even pierced. And that poor male slave whose member was branded with a hot iron! And I was also stripped naked and taken by several men – even one young man who could have been my grandson. And, to tell the truth I loved it. I get wet and aroused now, just thinking about it. But now my time is up. Am I to return to our little cottage outside of Stuttgart and resume the life of a fifty year old Hausfrau? With only memories of this pretty girl lying beside me and the other sex slaves writhing under the whip or in the throes of pleasure? Will my sex life now be limited to masturbation while fantasizing about this place and what I endured here?”

Suddenly Idetta’s thoughts were interrupted by the door to Nastascha’s and her small, cell like room being opened.

Wilma, one of the dominatrices at Haus der Sklavin escorted Idetta and Nastascha to the tiny room they shared. She unlocked the door and ushered both women inside. Then she told them, “Tonight I will not chain you two to your respective beds. There are two reasons for this - tomorrow is the last day of your contract with Haus der Sklavin, Idetta. And as for you, Nastascha, I have been told that tomorrow will also be your last day here.”

Nastascha looked surprised and said, “My last day, also, But why? Am I to be sent back to Roissy?”

“I do not know,” answered Wilma. “Perhaps. I wasn’t told anything but that you will be leaving. Although I do know that at least two of the new slaves – the ones you have seen in the dining hall- will be staying here. So perhaps, you are considered surplus.”

Idetta listened and thought to herself, “Surplus! What a way to refer to another human being!”

Wilma went on, “So tonight I will not chain you two to your beds. I thought you might want to ‘get to know one another’ a little better.” She smiled a knowing smile at the last remark. “So, good night bitches. Enjoy yourselves.”

“No, you see, I was not trafficked,” said Idetta as she looked the pretty, young French woman in the eyes. “I came to here of my own volition. After my dear husband Hans was killed in a traffic accident, I was going through some of his papers that were on his desk at home. I noticed one of the desk drawers was locked. I found the key and opened it, and inside I found a sealed envelope. Curious, I opened the envelope and looked inside. It was a contract between Hans and this place, Haus der Sklavin, that called for me to be sent here and trained as a sex slave! Needless to say, I was shocked. Hans and I had been married for over 25 years. I thought our sex life had run its course, and we were settling into middle age, and then I found this!”

“My goodness,” said Anne Claire. “What did you do then?” Idetta let loose a torrent of words, as if some sort of dam in her mind had been opened. “I read the contract carefully. It looked legitimate; it even had witnesses. It called for me to be sent here for six weeks, during which time I was to be trained as a sex slave. It laid out the procedures to be used with me, limits on what could be done to me, things like that. Like I said, I was shocked. I had no idea that Hans wanted that type of thing from me. It was only later, here in fact, that I met a man who had worked with Hans. He knew about Hans’s wishes. It seems that on a business trip he and Hans had gone to a place similar to this. A place outside of Paris. I think it was called Roissy, or maybe Rosy, something like that. Nastacha mentioned that she had been there, but she and another girl. A pretty French girl, like you. I think her name was O. Anyway, they had been there as sex slaves, but were sent here for some reason. O later left; I don’t know why or what happened to her, but Nastascha stayed. Stayed here with me in this very room until that man from the Ukraine took her away. Heinrich said he bought her.”

“Wait,” interrupted Anne Claire. “You said you came here voluntarily. To be trained for six weeks. Then you will be leaving and going home?”

Instead of answering right away, Idetta got up from the bed and paced around the room. Anne Claire looked at her closely as she walked around. As both women were naked, Anne Claire couldn’t help but stare. She noticed Idetta’s slim figure, small breasts that still sat up high, not sagging at all. “She said she was married to her husband for over 25 years., so she has to be at least in her mid or late 40’s. But her body looks thirty-five at most,” thought the French woman. Only her gray hair and the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth give her away.”

Idetta continued talking quickly. I never knew Hans wanted anything like that. He always seemed to to think that sex was something perfunctory. Like eating at exactly 5:30 pm or walking that little dog we used to have. When I was with my girlfriends and the topic of sex came up, I would laugh and say that Hans liked his sex like he liked his food – bland and barely warm! How could I have been married to a man for over 25 years and not known?”

Anne Claire’s ears had perked up when Idetta mentioned Roissy. She thought to herself, “Yes. It is Roissy not Rosy and I know the place. In fact, I have been there myself, but not as some sort of a slave. In fact, it was on what some might call a date. A man from the CIA named Paul had come to see my boss, Raymond, who was the head of one of the departments in the DGSE. Paul had told him that he was looking for a girl he had been in love with several years ago. He was going to ask her to marry him, but on the night he intended to propose, he was kidnapped by men who turned out to be terrorists working for Al Queda. Much later he escaped and had come looking for the girl He told Raymond that her name was O and she was redheaded – I’m quite sure it is the same girl Idetta spoke of. Anyway, Raymond somehow knew that she was at Roissy and said he would take Paul there as he and his mistress were going to a party there. Raymond thought it might be easier to get Paul in if he went with a woman, so he asked me to go along as Paul’s ‘date.’ We went and saw some sort of sex show with a red headed girl in a mask, but it turned out not to be Paul’s O. Raymond took an interest in Paul – probably because he was working for the CIA and when Paul went to Bonn, Raymond arranged for me to work there. In fact, I was going to meet Paul when I was kidnapped.”

Anne Claire thought all of this but decided not to say anything to Idetta about Roissy, just as she had done with Nastascha. Instead, she said, “You said your contract was for six weeks. When are they up? And will you be going home then, or somewhere else?”

Two valets, Heinrich and Wolfgang called Wolfie, stood outside of the door to the small cell like room that Nastascha and Idetta shared at Haus der Sklavin. Wolfie said, “I understand that she is being sold to that Ukrainian fellow, Stepan, what’s his name?”

Heinrich responded, “Yes. That is what I heard. But the sale is dependent on the bitch being tagged and marked before he takes possession.”

“Then what?”asked Wolfie.

“Again my understanding, and I got this from his chauffer, he plans to take her to Greece where I presume he will pimp her out. Take her to the beaches there and have her parade around nude. Or go to the markets with only a sheer cover up – you know, so as to not upset the local sensibilities- and see who gets interested. There are still a lot of late summer tourists there, and you can only see so many Greek ruins.”

“Sounds like a plan. And with her tagged and marked, her status and availability should be obvious. I presume the Ukrainian will want to do the marking himself, like that Japanese couple did with that Russian couple not too long ago.”

Heinrich said, “I’m not really sure. Maybe he will or maybe Madam Gisele, or even Wilma. No matter who though, the bitch won’t enjoy it.” And then he laughed and continued, “Speaking of enjoying it, Madam Gisele said we have permission to use the bitch however we want tonight. But just make sure she doesn’t get any rest. She wants her tired and used when we take her to the dungeon for the ceremony.”

“So, should we tell her what’s going to be done to her?”

“Of course. It’s more fun that way. Bitches always are wetter when they’re scared and apprehensive.”

They both laughed and then unlocked the door – all doors at the rooms at Haus der Sklavin locked from the outside- and went in where the women were waiting.

In one room Anastasia called over to Snejana who was secured to a bed across the room. She said, “I saw that man looking at you. You seemed to enjoy it when the riding crop was rubbed against you. Tell me the truth. Do you enjoy being flogged?”

Snejana answered, “Perhaps a little at first, but once the blows become harder, it hurts so much. Then I don’t like it. But I do get wet and aroused when I’m being beaten. What about you?”

Anastasia responded, “No! I hate it.” Then, “I think you are crazy.” Snejana answered, “Perhaps, but that is just the way I am. And I bet there are many girls like me.”

In the other room Nastasha whispered to Idetta, “You chose not to leave? Are you crazy?”

And Idetta answered, “Perhaps. But I don’t want to go to my grave thinking, ‘what if.’ Anyway, that handsome man will want somebody young. He won’t choose me. Now go to sleep.”

It was finished. Nastascha had been marked with signs of the Ukrainian Stepan’s ownership of her. Wilma and a valet helped her from the platform where she had been tied spread eagle so that she could be pierced. Her labia had been pierced and a ring inserted in the hole so that a medallion might be hung from it. The medallion was made of some sort of metal with the BDSM triskelion on one side and ‘Property of Stepan Y.’ on the other. It was not overly heavy, but Nastascha was aware of it as it tugged gently on her left lower lip when she walked.

As she stood up, Stepan approached and took a small blue velvet bag from his suit coat. He opened it and showed the contents to Nastascha. “Here are your other articles of jewelry.” There was a metal collar lined with leather, a silver ring that looked like woven metal with an even smaller ring attached to it, and finally a double ring connected by a small chain. “Let me put these on you,” said Stepan. Nastascha only nodded as he placed the single ring on the third finger of her left hand before placing the double ring on her right middle and third finger. The rings were tight, so he had to push them on. “Don’t worry,” he said to Nastascha. “You won’t be removing them.” Finally, Wilma attached the collar which had a lock in back. Nastascha heard the key turn in the lock and then saw Wilma hand it to Stepan. Stepan stepped back and looked at Nastascha, naked save for her new jewelry. “Now, even hen you are naked, anyone who sees you would know what you are and looking closer who you belong to.” Then turning to Madam Gisele who had been standing bay watching, Stepan said, “I think we should be on our way. The plane from Munich to Greece leaves later tonight.”

Madam Gisele said, “Of course.” Then looking at the valets she said, “Please escort her to her old room. There is a dress suitable for travel in her wardrobe. See that she is dressed, then take her to Stepan’s auto.”

Idetta looked around the small room she and Nastascha had shared. She was alone now. The two valets had taken Nastascha away that morning after telling her that her new owner was waiting for her. Earlier the two had taken turns using Nastascha roughly. As they used her, they had told her jokingly how she was to be marked for her new Master. “There will be no doubt as to your status,” they had said. Then one whispered something in Nastascha’s ear, and Idetta had seen the tears streaming from the young Russian girl’s eyes.

Idetta got up from the bed and paced around the small room. The valets had not said, but Idetta assumed Nastascha’s new owner must be the handsome man who had inspected Idetta, Nastascha, and the other two girls earlier. It was a vivid memory for Idetta. She had been quite humiliated to be displayed naked in front of a total stranger, even if he was quite good looking. But although Idetta was humiliated, she was also quite aroused by it. “Why does being paraded around naked like some animal arouse me so much?” thought Idetta to herself. Then, “Perhaps I am truly realizing my submissive self. No doubt my late husband who wanted me trained as a sex slave would be happy.”

Idetta went over to the bedside table by the bed. As she walked by, she saw her reflection in the full length mirror on the wall. She had forgotten that she was naked. It was a requirement at Haus der Sklavin to sleep naked. Then she remembered how one of the valets-she thought his name was Heinrich – had ogled her before turning his attention to Nastascha. Idetta picked up the open pack of cigarettes from the bedside table, took one out, put it in her mouth and lit it. She took a puff and stepped back in front of the mirror to consider what she saw there.

Looking at herself, Idetta thought, “I had given up this nasty habit over twenty- five years ago. Hans didn’t approve of me smoking. But here I have started again. There is so much idle time when one is waiting to be used by a customer. What does one do? The only books to read are pornographic and there is only one television and it’s in the ‘library’ where we wait for customers. It’s not really a TV, but a VCR and the only videos are S&M ones. That’s one thing I miss about our time in America- television. I loved American soap operas. When we were living in Alabama and Hans was on assignment at the Mercedes plant there, I enjoyed watching that soap opera about a hospital and all those characters. Their lives were so interesting.” Idetta laughed and thought. “Interesting like the lives of the women here – Nastascha, that Polish girl Snejana and her friend Anastasia and the others. Even me. We all have some idle time. Time to gossip. Even masturbate when the valets or dominatrices aren’t around.”

Idetta paused, took a long drag and continued her thoughts. “But I know I am just rationalizing taking a bad habit back up.” Then she looked a little closer at the image in the mirror. “I don’t look so bad. I guess I am just insecure about my looks. Or could I be a little jealous that the handsome Ukrainian man chose Nastascha rather than me?”

The Train to Paris: Part Two

Vladimir looked at Ivan and said, “Perhaps you should begin to ‘introduce’ Natascha to the joys of submission. I’m not saying she shouldn’t be hesitant or even unwilling about Roissy, but I do not want her to be kicking and screaming and creating a scene when we deliver her. I’ll go get some coffee to give you two a little privacy, and you should at least talk to her about it. Use your considerable charm on her, Ivan.”

As soon as Vladimir went up the corridor to the dining car, Ivan opened the door to the compartment. Natascha looked up. “You really are lovely, my dear. No wonder I love you so.” Natascha flashed a large smile and said, “And I love you too.”

Ivan came over and sat beside her. He kissed her on the mouth and slid her dress up, revealing her garter belt and tiny black panties. Natascha protested softly, “But Vladimir…”

Ivan responded, “He has gone to the dining car. He won’t be back for at least an hour. Now, why on earth are you wearing any panties?”

“I thought you would like them. Aren’t they sexy?”

“Yes, but I want you to be always accessible.” And Ivan slid them off. “And when we get to Paris, I want you to shave. That way you’ll be more naked. I love it when you’re naked.” And he kissed Natascha again. Hard on the mouth, as he slid a finger into her sex. “Oh good. You’re wet.” And he unzipped his trousers.

Afterwards, he kissed Natascha on the forehead and said, “I love you. Would you do anything for me? Anything I ask?”

And Natascha answered, “Yes, my darling. Anything. Anything you ask.”

The Train to Paris: Part One

The train rolled slowly across Central Europe heading west to Paris. Vladimir had secured a private compartment on the train, but it was crowded with the three of them. Vladimir and Ivan went out into the aisle to smoke while Natascha slept. Once out of earshot Vladimir said to Ivan, “Do you think your bitch knows what our real plans are for her?”

“Of course not,” answered Ivan. “She’s just a country girl come to the big city with stars in her eyes. Pretty, but dumb as a stone.”

“Good. Once we get her to Paris, we can make up some story about getting here a tryout for a film. Then, once in the car we can take her to the place called Roissy. I have a contract with them for thousands of Euros on delivery of a suitable girl.”

“What is ‘suitable’ my friend?”

“A girl who can be enslaved and prostituted. Preferably one who likes to be abused and beaten.”

Ivan said, “I’m not sure Natascha would like that. I’ve never even raised a hand to her.”

“Ha!” responded Vladimir. “All the bitches like it rough whether or not they admit it. Especially women from Byelorussia. It’s in our culture. You know the old saying.”

And laughing both men said together, “Beat your woman every day. If you don’t know the reason, she does.”

Idetta sat on the bed after Heinrich led Nastascha away. Idetta thought to herself, ”She is gone now. Gone to a new life. I hope she is happy with that Ukrainian man. And I am left here. Left here in my life as a sex slave. A life I willingly chose. Am I happy? Happy with my new life? It is certainly different from my old one where I was a middle-aged Hausfrau. But it was what Hans wanted for me. It may well have been his dying wish.”

Then Idetta, still naked as the day she was born, got up and went to the mirror. Looking at her still slender reflection she thought, “Not bad for an almost 50-year-old woman. All those years of exercise and yoga have paid off. What was it that Polish girl said about me -you have the figure of a thirty year old.’ Well, not really, but at least my boobs aren’t down around my waist. Thank goodness for small boobs.”

She returned to the bed and sat down again with thoughts and emotions that she had trouble describing, let alone processing in her head. “What have I done? Why am I like this? I certainly do not want to be one of those old women, sitting in my living room, surrounded by a small pride of house cats wondering ‘What if?’ But did I make the right choice? Some middle -aged women might have chosen to hike the Alpines, swim with the dolphins, or perhaps take a younger lover? I guess in a way that is what I did. That first young man who took me was young enough to have been my son. No, my grandson! But the sex, even forced, was wonderful. I came. And not from masturbation. And I came when Nastascha tongued me. It was wonderful. Does that make me a slut? Am I a sex slave or a sex addict? I enjoy sex still, and I willingly chose to be here. What does that make me?”

Idetta paused and looked around the room. She said out loud, “God, I wish I had another cigarette. Or a stiff drink! “

Then the door to the room opened. Heinrich came in with a strange look on his face. A look of what? Lust? Anticipation? Hope? He looked at the naked Idetta and said, “Well, old girl; it’s just you and me now.”

And Idetta, with a half smile on her face, thought, “Why not?”

Natascha

Natascha had met Ivan in a bar in Minsk two months ago, shortly after she arrived from her small village near Mazyr. Ivan seemed self-assured and obviously wealthy- he wore a gold Rolex watch on his wrist. Natascha was delighted when he came over and spoke to her. “You are quite beautiful; what part of Minsk are you from,” he had said. Natascha answered that she wasn’t from the city; instead she was from a very small village but had come to the big city to get away from poverty and ‘farm boys trying to grab my breasts and sex.’ Ivan laughed and said, “I cannot blame them. Would you like a drink?” Natascha hardly ever drank at home, but she did not want to appear unsophisticated in front of the man, so she said, “Sure.”

And so, it began.

Two weeks later, Natascha had moved into Ivan’s apartment. She was sure she was in love with the man, and hoped he loved her too. He was a good lover, not at all like the grabby boys in her home village. If fact Natascha usually had an orgasm whenever they had sex – something quite new for her. Ivan bought her some new stylish clothes and did not pester her about working. “I want you here in my apartment waiting for me when I am through working.” Natascha wasn’t sure what type of work Ivan did. He kept odd hours, often staying out late at night. But Natascha didn’t care, nor did she ask.

Then one night Ivan brought a man named Vladimir home. He told Natascha that Vladimir was a representative for a movie studio headquartered in Paris. Vladimir said, “My friend Ivan has told me about you – how beautiful you are. He was not lying. I may want you to be in one of our movies. Are you interested?”

Natascha was thrilled. She answered, “Yes, of course. What must I do?”

Vladimir answered, “The role I envision for you requires nudity. Is that a problem for you?”

“No,” answered Natascha quickly.

Then Ivan said, Natascha, please go into the bedroom and put on that new white negligee I bought for you. Then come in and model it for Vladimir.” “Oh, and take out the nose ring,” said Vladimir. “You will look better without it.”

She did so and returned quickly to see Ivan and Vladimir talking in low tones. When Vladimir looked up he said, “Now please remove the negligee.” Natascha did so and was standing in the room, stark naked. Vladimir turned to Ivan and said, “She is splendid. With some make-up she will do nicely. I will buy three tickets to Paris. Meet me at the train statin at noon tomorrow.” Then Vladimir got up and left.

Later that night as Ivan and Natascha made love, all she could think about was ‘I am going to Paris. I am going to be on the movies.’

They met Vladimir at noon the next day and got on the train for Paris.

Heinrich led the blindfolded woman into the room where Stepan the Ukrainian man and Madam Gisele were waiting along with Wilma, one of the dominatrices. Earlier Heinrich had attached a leash to the ring set in the collar that enclosed the woman’s neck. She was completely nude save for the wooden soles miles she wore on her feet. And her hands had been secured in front using the leather bracelets on her wrists. ‘Wolfie,’ the other valet accompanied them.

Madam Gisele directed them to a raised platform which had a smaller table with tattooing equipment on it. Heinrich and Wolfie secured the woman’s hands to the head of the table so that she had to lean over the platform. Thus, she was bent at the waist with her belly and breasts flat against the platform. Madam Gisele turned to Stipan and said, “I must admit I was a little surprised by your choice. I thought for sure that you would choose the old sow, Idetta. Especially, the way you kept coming back to her photo and information in our album.”

Stepan answered, “Yes. It was a difficult decision. I was quite struck with the older woman, but it came down to a purely economic choice. You see, my plan is to take her to my villa in Crete and there basically pimp her out. I thought a younger woman, especially one as striking as Nastascha would initially appeal more to the locals and tourists there. Most younger men will choose a younger whore, all other things being equal. Besides if anyone I pimp her out to chooses to beat or abuse her, the younger girl will be able to endure it better.”

“That makes sense from an economic perspective,” agreed Madam Gisele. Then turning her attention to Wilma, she said, “And you have the tattooing stencil that our Ukrainian friend chose?”

Wilma responded, “Yes. I’m not sure what it means though,” as she held up a paper with ‘Російська повія’ on it.

Stepan responded, “It means Russian whore. I want it tattooed across her lower back at the hip line. Then if she is on the beach, it will show above the bottom of her bathing suit and advertise her status to everyone who sees her.”

Madam Gisele looked again at Wilma and said, “Proceed.”