The Night My Friend Turned Me Into Her Slave

Bruna squeezed her best friend’s hand as the taxi rolled through streets she didn’t recognize. The warmth of those fingers laced with her own calmed the unease that had been growing in her chest ever since they left the apartment. It had been Lena’s idea to go to the Scarlet Hall that night, and Bruna had agreed without thinking too much about it, the way she agreed to almost everything her roommate suggested.

She had never been to a place like this. Lena, by contrast, seemed to know every corner of the route, every turn, as if she had traveled it many times before. That, more than reassuring her, made Bruna’s heart race.

What am I getting myself into?, Bruna thought, and tightened her grip on her friend’s hand again.

—Here, this is for you —Lena said.

Bruna felt Lena’s fingers slip free from hers. She turned her head and saw that her friend was holding something dark in her hands. It took her a second to realize it was a black silk blindfold.

—Lena, do you really think this is a good idea?

—Of course it is. Now look away.

The brush of the fabric was soft as it closed over her eyes. Bruna stayed perfectly still while her friend tied the blindfold behind her brown hair. Then she felt Lena’s fingers lift her chin tenderly, and once again that hand found hers.

—Nothing’s missing. We’ll be there soon.

In the darkness of the blindfold, Bruna strained to listen. She heard Lena’s calm breathing, the taxi’s engine, distant music filtering in from somewhere.

—Let me take those earrings off you —Lena whispered, stroking her hair—. Where we’re going, you won’t need them.

Bruna obeyed without protest. She felt the earrings being removed from her ears, an intimate and strangely solemn gesture, as if something more than jewelry were being taken away from her.

***

The taxi stopped. The door opened and a blast of cool, damp air hit her face together with the music, now much closer. Bruna clutched Lena’s arm to steady herself and followed her, blind, into the interior.

Inside, the sound was dense, almost physical. Unknown shoulders brushed against hers as she moved forward. She tried to imagine the place using only touch and hearing: the warmth of bodies, the smell of perfume and sweat, voices laughing low. Lena held her firmly, guiding her, until they stopped.

Bruna heard her friend say something to a man. A door opened and they entered a much quieter space, where the music was muffled.

—You’d better have one of these —said a female voice she didn’t know.

She felt her head tipped back. The cold rim of a small glass touched her lip. She swallowed. The tequila burned her throat and made her cough, and behind the blindfold her eyes filled with tears.

—More? —the voice offered.

Bruna shook her head. A small hand, probably Lena’s, stroked her back over the wool sweater. Her heart beat faster and faster.

The liquor still burned when she felt the buttons of her blouse being undone. Other, larger hands pulled her arms away from her sides and held them open. Bruna couldn’t control the rising and falling of her chest when she felt the fabric slide away from her body.

—I think another drink would help you —said Lena’s familiar voice.

This time she kept her head still and opened her lips. The tequila burned again, but less. Her head felt heavy and light at the same time. Then fingers untied the knot of the blindfold, and light hit her all at once.

***

Lena watched from the edge of the room, outside the circle of light spilling down from the ceiling. Her roommate looked magnificent under the spotlight: the lace bra barely containing her breasts, brown hair falling over her pale shoulders, green eyes shining, still dazed, as they adjusted to the brightness.

Lena stepped forward, swept her long dark mane back, and spoke.

—Welcome to the Scarlet Hall.

Bruna heard, somewhere in the shadows, murmurs of admiration. Lena climbed onto the small platform where they had her restrained and brushed Bruna’s cheek with her lips.

—Are you sure you want to go through with this? —she whispered.

Lena’s breath mingled with hers. Bruna felt a salty tingling on her tongue.

—We’re here now, aren’t we? —she answered with a half smile—. And you’re the one who brought me. Besides, you’ve already half-undressed me in front of all these people, so tell me: why not?

—Maybe you should drink once more. No. I have a better idea.

Lena took the bottle and filled the glass halfway. Then she did something Bruna wasn’t expecting: she drank the tequila herself. Before Bruna could react, her friend covered her mouth with hers and passed the liquor to her with her tongue.

—Surprised? —Lena murmured against her lips.

Her fingers found the clasp of the necklace Bruna wore at her throat.

—You must not wear jewelry unless you’re ordered to. Understood?

Her thoughts crowded in on her. First, that kiss from her best friend, unlike any she had ever been given before. And now, her hands removing her necklace as if taking away a permission.

—And you will be respectful at all times to your Mistress and to any Master. Is that clear? —Lena said, this time in a hard voice, and dug her nails into one nipple over the lace.

Tears sprang to Bruna’s eyes, but she nodded. Lena eased the pressure and let her go.

—From now on, you are our slave.

She gave her a soft slap on the cheek and kissed her again.

***

Bruna pulled against the ribbons holding her arms open. Lena’s face had changed: desire marked every feature, and those kisses, though they had unsettled her, did not feel unpleasant. Even the light slap had pleased her. She looked at her and nodded, accepting whatever her friend wanted to do to her.

The audience watching from the darkness faded from her mind. Now only Lena existed. Her eyes stayed fixed on her as she felt her unfasten her skirt and let it fall to the floor.

Lena stepped back when two black-clad figures entered the lit area. They were two men. They knelt at Bruna’s feet, removed her shoes, and strapped her ankles, spreading her legs wide.

—Take off her stockings and underwear —ordered Lena—. I doubt she’ll need them tonight.

Bruna’s heart raced when her friend disappeared into the shadows. The men finished undressing her and left her alone: chained, arms spread open, in a room full of strangers, wearing little more than a sheer bra.

She breathed out in relief when Lena reappeared, and then she lost her breath. Her friend had changed clothes. Now she was wearing tall black boots and a matching thong. In her hand she was holding something.

—See this? —she said, shaking a set of leather straps in front of her nose.

—It’s called a flogger —Lena laughed as she slid the bra straps down over Bruna’s shoulders—. You’ll get used to it.

She finished taking off the garment, and her freed breasts were left exposed. Lena stepped down from the platform, but stayed close enough to reach her. She flicked the straps through the air and let them land on a nipple.

Bruna inhaled sharply. A second sharp breath swelled her chest when the leather struck again, and she cried out. But the first shock soon turned into something else, into a heat rising through her belly each time the flogger’s soft tips kissed her skin.

—Do you want more, slave?

Bruna was sweating with pure arousal. She licked her lips when the blows stopped. Her vision was glassy from the alcohol. She shook her head.

—No, thank you… Mistress.

—Good, slave.

***

Lena crouched in front of her and set the flogger aside. Bruna felt cold foam applied between her thighs and then the delicate scrape of a blade. She closed her eyes and threw her head back, trying to escape the shame of knowing she was being watched. But she had to admit it: Lena knew exactly what she was doing. With careful movements, her friend shaved her completely and then smoothed on a cream so the skin wouldn’t get irritated.

When she looked up, Lena’s green eyes caught her. Her friend smiled, lowered her head again, and dark hair hid what came next. Bruna didn’t need to see it: Lena’s tongue ran over her, wet and precise, while fingers played lower down. She threw her head back and moaned.

It was strange. Lena had never kissed her like this, not on the lips and certainly not there. She tensed, but the liquor’s effect softened her again. She closed her eyes and let herself go, moaning louder and louder, feeling pleasure climb up her legs.

Little beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. Her cheeks burned. With her eyes closed and her head hanging back, she tensed again. She recognized what was happening to her: she was going to come. Her rigid thighs began to tremble, she pulled against the chains, shook her hair from side to side. Fire lit her insides.

And then Lena’s mouth pulled away.

Bruna opened her eyes at once, frustrated, and lifted her head. She saw her friend moving away into the darkness. A man emerged from the shadows.

***

He was tall and athletic, completely naked. Bruna licked her lips without meaning to. Hanging between his legs was an erection impossible to ignore, pointed directly at her.

She tried to back away instinctively, but a hand stroked her thigh. She looked down and saw Lena guiding the man, parting her lips with her fingers to receive him. Bruna held her breath as she felt the penetration, slow and firm.

The man leaned down to kiss her and, to her own surprise, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth to him. She moaned while his hands roamed over her breasts. When he pulled away, Bruna almost protested, but reminded herself that a slave should not seem so eager. Even so, she followed him with her eyes as he moved behind her.

She felt the tip of his sex pressing against another place, one much tighter. It won’t fit, she thought. A layer of sweat covered her entire body.

She threw her head back and screamed when he entered her from behind. Pain tore through her, sharp, and her hair fell across her face. Fingers lifted her chin and Lena appeared again. This time, feeling for the first time like a real slave, Bruna wanted to kiss her.

She moaned again. Lena’s fingers circled her swollen clitoris, and pain began to melt into pleasure until she could no longer tell them apart. She wanted more. She had completely forgotten the people around her.

***

The room’s flashing lights revealed how many there were. By the silhouettes, Bruna could tell most were men, though there were women too. On the other side of the hall, a fixed spotlight illuminated a large bed surrounded on three sides by floor-to-ceiling mirrors.

Lena fastened a collar around her neck. She freed one wrist and clipped it to a ring at the back of the collar; soon she did the same with the other. From a front ring hung a silver leash with which her friend began to guide her, forcing her to walk bent forward in a humiliating posture.

Reflected in the mirrors, Bruna saw herself: elbows raised high, a man pressed against her back, her own nakedness exposed in the light. She lowered her gaze while Lena tugged gently on the leash and led her down from the platform.

As they moved among the spectators, she noticed that Lena knew several of them, because she greeted them familiarly. Someone slapped one of her buttocks and Bruna gasped, but they kept walking. Many hands reached out to touch her breasts in the half-dark.

The light became clearer near the bed. In the reflection, Bruna saw a red mark on her buttock, the memory of the slap. Behind her, the man continued moving slowly.

Lena unhooked the leash and threw it aside. Then she lay down on her back on the bed, lifted her hips, and took off her thong, revealing a narrow strip of hair that Bruna had already seen other times, when they changed clothes at the gym. That night, however, everything was different.

The man guided her to the headboard. Lena’s fingers sank into his sex and lifted him, until Bruna ended up astride her friend, her face brushing Lena’s cunt and her hips raised, still occupied by the other.

More figures came out of the darkness. Out of the corner of her eye, Bruna saw a tall blonde woman dressed in black approach one side of the bed. Her severe features made Bruna shiver. She was carrying a riding crop.

The leather whistled and crossed her buttock in a burning line. Bruna screamed, and the man’s hand shoved her head down against Lena’s sex. The crop fell a second time; her whole body went rigid. She moved her tongue desperately, playing with her friend, until she felt Lena shudder beneath her and, at the same time, the man empty himself inside her.

***

Lena slipped out from underneath her and another man took her place. Bruna mounted him and let herself sink down until she felt him inside. Hands freed her wrists from the collar and she leaned back, offering herself. Her hips pumped on their own while more bodies, more hands, more voices gathered around her. They all watched the new slave, including the blonde woman with the crop, who looked at her with a cold smile.

Later they took her to another room, and there the night continued among new hands and new games, until she lost track of time.

—I’m leaving now —Lena said at some point, bending near her ear—. I have work tomorrow, you know. Behave yourself.

She drove her tongue into Bruna’s mouth in a last kiss and left. She could have said she was sick, but the truth was she needed to rest for whatever would come the next day.

***

When she left, Bruna covered her eyes with sunglasses. The taxi took her back to the apartment she shared with Lena. Along the way she saw, here and there, some shopkeeper raising a shutter, getting ready for a normal day, unaware of the night she had just lived through.

She had all her clothes on, except for her bra and panties. She would never wear them again, at least not as before. Every part of her body ached, and the pain, far from bothering her, reminded her of what had happened.

Even so, another day was beginning to dawn. The new slave smiled inwardly as the sky lightened over the city. She couldn’t wait too long to go back. It was, without anyone saying so, the first dawn of her new life.