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[BeauQuiver]

Jia Ly

Name: Jia Ly
Age: 18
Hair Color: golden brown cut to around chest height
Eye Color: chocolate brown
Height: 5’5”
Weight: 120 lbs
22B 22 34

Personality Traits: youngest of 6 with 5 brothers Jia came up knowing sometimes people couldn't contain their strength. Her brothers hugs were tight and rough. They were just as clumsy as she was and struggled to care for themselves. She was acting as a teacher in the compound and secondary mother for her brothers.

Background:

The Ly family had been originally only left their mother's country and immigrated back to Samoa for the father when they wanted to start a business sailing and giving tours of the islands. But, then states and countries began legalizing slavery. The parents couldn't imagine this. They spoke with other rebels who all formed a compound and attempted to isolate themselves and their family.

The compound were taught a world without slavery. Especially the youngest. Jia's parents and eldest two brothers actually were actively ferrying people from legalized countries to the compound for safety.

All the individuals where kept cloistered and taught about goodness, doing the right thing even when it's hard, taking care of others is top priority - attempting to shelter innocence to the point of ignorance in that when the world was "corrected" this generation could lead it better in this idealized view.

But, when they were breached and raided these same isolated group were immediately forced to slavery. Into a system they were never even taught in the hopes it would never exist.

Jia remembers loosing her voice screaming. Her father killed in front of her with one of her brothers. Most of the compound including her put into cages. She went mute and stopped responding to the soldiers. It didn't matter. Someone would buy even a mute as long as they obeyed enough orders.

When Nieman Marcus created their Tumi rolling suitcase they weren’t thinking about a teen being stored inside. The 26 hours was unholy to put any human through.

Bullets. Fire. Blood. Screams. An island off of
Manatavi was only big enough to hold beyond the colony of 300. It began 30 years prior when immigrants from the “democratic” countries began to have increasingly far wing politicians terrified the people. Even more so when it was multiple nations acting. The Ly family who had immigrated to city of Manatavi after their first son was born didn’t become involved with the “Pearl Nation” as the cult called themselves till right before Jia’s birth. Growing up this convent like group that sequestered themselves on a barely habitable island was all she knew. The teachings were a very strict education of an idealized world so they could foster that world when the compound believed themselves strong enough to rebel and defeat those oppressive governments.

It never happened.

It was during the rainy season and Jia had been in the center of the compound. They had been teaching about ghandi and Harriet Tubman in an idealized way. If “slavery” was never mentioned then they could never bring it about themselves. No those people fought against “injustice” just like the group should. The rain was a sweet patter to Jia’s ears and she thought the first gun shot she heard was thunder. It only mildly surprised her. Then the siren went off. The colony was overwhelmed in less than a half hour. There only had been about 100 adult age individuals and the same amount of guns to defend themselves. Few from the colony’s adults and leaders ever did anything but hunt. And that was rare. They had been surviving on fishing and agriculture. The private military that rushed in was looking at ants compared to what they were use to. The rain hadn’t subsided yet when the families were subdued and individuals separated.

The Ly family had been one of the few known. They still used their boat for their tourism business and the colony had expanded because the were smuggling people to the colony from countries that had already enacted the slavery laws. It was decided early was that they would be the most publicaly made an example of. Fist with the filmed execution of the father and eldest son.

When Jia screamed “father” in pure terror she became a target herself. Not for execution. Someone already had plans.

 

[BeauQuiver]

Jia was identified and pulled away. Blindfolded for the first time in her life and bound at the wrists and ankles she was stuffed in a sack till they reached an airport. The private jet still had all the same sounds and conversations around it that she could make out roughly what was happening. A wiggling muffled screams sack was ignored as she was eventually loaded into the plane. She still couldn’t see anything but thick accents she thought might be American like her fathers but, richer commanded her to sit. They bound her in that position to what she thought was a chair. She only was able to see for a few minutes a few hours in. Some kind of conversation about “gas” and she was taken to the lavatory in the back. But, she tried to plead for information or help only to be ignored. She was put back into the same blindfolded position after.

The military men around her seemed to relax and become jovial when they “finally reached home.” But, Jia’s home was destroyed. She was introduced to a woman in her 60s with a pinched face when she could see again.

“Tsk…tsk…no one wants to do make up on such a puffy face.” She slapped Jia across the face. For someone who had never been hit she went into instant new tears.

“Ah chah! Banana cunt wake up! Do you even understand English!” She had barely said anything other than criticism to Jia and now she was being criticized for what she understood. “Eat this already! We got to get you ready for, sir.”

Sir. That was the first time she learned of a him. Over the next two hours she learned little more. “He likes pretty things unlike a slant eyed like her.” Her bottom became repeatedly swatted with a cleaning brush as she was pushed to a shower, had even invisible hairs ripped from her skin under wax, and finally painted up with eye liner and lipstick. Her hair was pulled back into two small twin buns on either side of her head and clips with dangling flowers hung down from it. She was finally given food which she ate as if starving. It didn’t matter if it was simple rice and vegetables. She was starving.

“M-m-my tama?” She was already crying again. The woman smacked her across the face again and then roughly began to correct her lipstick.

“You better be a proper bitch for your new master.” That didn’t tell Jia anything for what she understood. She was pulled up by the woman’s nails on the back of her neck and led to a pile of “clothing”. What about my family?

She was wearing the smallest thing she had ever had on. Every time she attempted to hide herself in the revealing fabric the woman smacked her hands before applying more vanilla scented lol above her breasts. The men were looking at her body where her darker areola and the center between her thighs was visible. The tiny garter on her leg felt strange and kept falling down without enough meat to hold the elastic up.

“Help please!” She begged attempting to cover up again. She was smacked across the face this time the woman’s nails cutting her lip.

“Get in banana cunt.” This seemed the woman’s preferred way to speak to her. They pointed to a luggage that couldn’t even seem right to put a body in. Jia attempted to step back shaking her head. But, it didn’t even take much strength from the soldiers to force her body to contort into the folded up shape and close the suitcase.

She didn’t know how long she had been in. The make up was once again ruined with streaks of eyeliner and mascara down her cheeks and the lipstick smeared. She had begged for a hour in broken English and Samoan to be freed but, no one listened. She only knew she was somewhere again when the transpiration stopped and the suitcase was removed.



The soldiers wheeled their task up to the side door of the large country mansion. In the entrance and to their boss’s study. The body inside the suitcase couldn’t even adjust to the new tilted vertical position. They stopped at the door and waited for permission to enter.

“Your package is here, sir.” Jia felt the jostle as she was set flat on the ground. She gave a weak push to the locked zipper where a pinhole of light can be seen. fesoasoani…help…

 

[Valken]

At a certain level of wealth a man did not go out and do his own shopping. One didn't even consider making lists - servants and assistants spent their days ensuring all needs and wants of their Master would be satisfied, even before that Master was aware he needed, or wanted something. Jericho DeRosa had grown up his entire life inside that life of comforting luxury. His great Grandfather was a co-owner of a large Canadian lumber company. His grandfather had involved himself in the high rankings of the Mafia, integrating the DeRosa's into the criminal underworld. His Uncle had become a Politician and Father a proprietor of slaves. In modern times, Jericho's twin brothers ran the family business.

Coming from a family of deep, old wealth and having no real expectations, Jericho had been free to explore limitless hedonism his entire life. From camel rides in the Sahara Desert, climbing Mount Everest, orgies on private yachts in the Caribbean. There was no limits for him, and there had been none for the entirety of his thirty-four years of life. Sure - there was routines, requirements and goals he needed to achieve, but those were of his own doings. Bench pressing 325, eating enough calories to maintain his figure, simple things mostly garnered towards keeping him looking good. He had learned in his teens that despite the wealth he had, looking good made life even easier.

His family had been a force behind the legalization of slavery in the past two decades. The acquiring and selling of slaves was a luxurious business, especially when you already had control of two private militaries overseas. While Jericho wasn't involved in day to day operations of the many industries his family oversaw, he did sit on a handful of boards, keeping himself privy to information at a higher level. When it started, Jericho didn't really care about the compound in some distant Samoan Island. A bunch of hippies who couldn't speak English had collected themselves together to create their own, innocent little society and Jericho's company was going to invade, capture the people and destroy the legacy. It had been done before and would be done again.

Jericho's interest was piqued when pictures of the persons of interest were displayed on screen. He didn't care for the leader of the cult. He didn't care for the older man and his son who were smuggling people on and off the island. It was what was in the background that piqued his interest. Behind the candid shot of the father son duo was presumably the rest of the smuggler's family. A wife, several sons and a solitary daughter. The picture was grainy, and the focus was not on the teenage girl, but as Jericho voted in approval of the raid, he couldn't rid the image of the girl from his mind.

After the meeting he had made a phone call to his man overseas, and put him in contact with the leader of the military force. That was all that was required on Jericho's part. One single call and a girl's life a world away would have her path in life forever changed and destined towards Jericho. He wasn't involved much in the planning; he had the ability to pay for those details to be ironed out by someone else. A handful of phone calls over the weeks, his demands given and they would be laid out.

It was two and half months from the day he first saw her picture to the day he received the phone call that she was en route, and hour away. Jericho was currently at his Montana Estate, nestled neatly in the mountains. The minimalistic home offered all the expected luxuries one might expect at a mult-million dollar estate. Located outsight of the home was a small compound that all the servants who tended to Jericho's needs lived. Jericho was dressed simply - for he always believed in keeping things simple. A pair of blue jeans and a dark navy blue tee shirt. Around the home he wore a pair of simple black slippers on his otherwise bare feet. All of the clothing was of the highest quality.

The package arrived exactly when he had been told. His doorman having the soldiers bring the suitcase in through the side door and directly to his study. They laid the suitcase down on the floor and left. Jericho leaned against his desk, dark eyes looking at the suitcase. Almost as if the person inside knew they were being watched he saw the zipped bulge out as the girl inside pushed against what must be the only light inside her tight confines. Jericho let the anticipation, excitement and lust wash through. Months he had been waiting for this moment, all based on one grainy picture. Would all the waiting have been worth it? He had access to a plethora of slaves, of all kinds of backgrounds and personalities - but this was the first one he had found and acquired himself. What was her personality? Her disposition- would her appearance match up to what he had built up in his mind over the months? He let his excitement settle, keeping himself composed before he knelt down and unlocked the small lock that held the suitcase shut.

He unzipped the three sides and flipped open the top of the suitcase. Inside he found his prize. A little Samoan girl, folded and stuffed into the suitcase. She was dressed in a white, sexy nightie and pair of panties that together did very little to hide her tanned skin. The position she was stored in did better to hide her tiny perky chest than the clothing she wore did. Her hair was done up into two ugly buns on either side of her hair. Makeup has been painted onto her face, then ruined by tears that fell from her chocolate eyes.

Jericho reached into the suitcase and slid his hands underneath the girl's arms, taking a hold of her chest from each side. It was almost laughably easy to pull her light weight out of hte suitcase. He was secretly surprised that his people had even managed to fold her up into the thing. As he raised her up, lifting her head to be level with his and allowing her body to stretch out he figured she was of about average height. He set her back down in the suitcase, on her feet. Jericho still stood nearly a foot taller than the girl, with her head barely reaching the top of his chest. "Spin around, display yourself for me." His voice was cold and firm, demanding obedience from the girl who had been stolen from a world away. "What is your name, and your age?" He had been provided those details, though he wasn't sure the miliary men across the world would have been able to get the most reliable information. Mostly he was interested in seeing how the girl would react to being given orders and asked questions.

If the girl bothered to look around the room she had been deposited in, she would see a familiar scene frozen on the television. Jericho had been watching the video of her father and brother's execution during the time he awaited her arrival. He had paused at the exact moment a young, girl's voice had cried out for her father in the rainstorm. The body was just falling to the wet, forest floor on the paused video. Jericho doubted the girl would notice the scene depicted on the television so soon after being removed from a suitcase, but it was there as a silent threat.

 

[BeauQuiver]

Several blinks and confusion looked up at Jericho. He is as tall as brothers. Suddenly salty tears sliced across the messy cheeks. She looked around but, didn’t focus on any one thing to see his silent threat. She felt cold because of what she saw before him. He has her standing but, the very legs began to tremble from the sudden new posture.

Hands that would have hid her body fell forward to catch herself against his chest. Opening her mouth “O fea o-“ she stopped fast and fell flat on her bottom when she attempted to right herself. Her hands were warm from the moment they touched. He speaks English. Her own was bad. She struggled with certain constants and grammar. He will think I’m dumb. Beginning to shake Jia tried and failed twice to stand again. Falling once at his feet on her hands and knees half in the suitcase half outside of it. Then the third she manages to stand. She was breathing sharp and fast. She could hyperventilate and pass out at any second.

He had told her to spin. But, the concept of “display” took a second for her head to understand. She spun three full times before “display” kicked and she gasped. Instead of displaying herself she stepped back falling on the top of the suitcase back to the floor. She stayed down this time protecting her body from view with her hands. “My na-m-e Jia.” She answered the first in a whisper kind of voice. She was looking up at him as she tried to remember the sentence structure to answer the second question. “I ei-gh-ght-ween.” The sentences were very short. She had understood him but her English and fear were combining into unfit sentance. “O oe lau Sir?” She used the title the woman who put her in this make up and garb used. She was still whispering and speaking softly but the flowy language rolled sweet from her lips.

Jia hadn’t stood yet. She was shaking looking up from the floor at him. He was powerful enough of a figure she didn’t look away after the initial courtesy look. When she bit into her lip she had even more tears pulling into her eyes ready to be shed in a minute. She didn’t know just how dangerous her slow comply would cost her.

 

[Valken]

The moment Jericho opened the suitcase the oriental girl inside looked up to him, and her chocolate brown eyes instantly formed with tears. Once he lifted her out of the suitcase and set her down on her shaky legs the petite thing fell forward into him. Then in an attempt to correct herself fell backwards onto her bottom. It was too be expected - Jericho could only assume that being folded into a suitcase. The girl was trembling, hindering her own self as she attempted twice to stand back up in front of him. Her breathing was coming sharp and fast, her teenage tits highlighted by the underwear she wore rising and falling at a quick pace.

Once she seemed to have her feet underneath of her she spun around three times in quick succession. While that wasn't exactly what Jericho had been looking for, she did manage to show off her long legs, slim waist, and tight, round ass. The nightie she wore did little to cover her petite body, instead highlighted it as it was meant too. After the third spin she lost her footing and fell down onto her bottom once more. There she stayed, curling herself into a ball to protect her little body, while tearful dark eyes looked up at him.

Then she answered his question, with a thick accent, yet still girly voice she told him her name was Jia. The next question she answered the same as the first, stumbling over words as if she was sounding them out as she spoke them. She told him she was eighteen. He could see recognition and understanding in her eyes through the tears that filled him. She then said something he didn't quite understand, and spoke the word Sir.

The shaking little thing looked up at him with fear in her eyes, new tears forming and threatening to fall at any moment. She bit her lip as she fell silent, starting up at him. "You will call me Master. Sir is for men who do not own you." His voice was cold and calm as he explained his title to her, and her position if she was paying attention.

Once more Jericho reached down and placed his hands under the girl's armpits. He lifted her up off the ground. This time he didn't immediately set her down, instead he turned around so he could sit her on the empty, large wooden desktop. "I told you to display yourself and you did not. You will be punished for that." His eyes watched her young one's, to see if there was any recognition in them. "Get on your elbows and knees." He nodded to the desk she was sitting on, indicating where he wanted her to position herself. "Raise your ass high in the air, curve your back and raise these up too." His hands slid from under her arms to her chest. He took her small, petite breasts in his hands. Gently he gave them a firm squeeze. "Once you are displayed, tell me why you think you are here." He let his hands fall from her teenage chest to his side. His eyes watching her eyes to see how the foreign little slave would respond.

 

[BeauQuiver]

He picked her up again. Jia’s stomach fluttered and she reached to cling to him. She felt like a fairy when presented before him. That fairy seemed to have its wings cut as his words started to work through the gears of her mind. Own? Shaking her head Jia attempted to counter his words but every time she opened her mouth she felt one look into his eyes and her world shut down. Then he spoke easily into several more things and her head began to swim into a whirlpool.

“Punished?” She managed to mouth the words but, the way her lips trembled even that would have been stutters if given volume. The tears sliced down and she began to try and crawl up further on the desk so she could flee to the other side.

She may have actually stayed cemented but, he put his hands on her chest. Before he could finish his next request for information Jia had scrambled up fully on the desk and then into his chair. “P-pl-please” she groaned as she attempted to translate on her head what she wanted to say. Her father and brother retained their father’s English daily working with tourists. Jia didn’t have to so her mother’s tongue kept attempting to come forward. Since he had said Master she started there despite the way her gut flopped and turned.

“Ma-st-ter? P-le-lease do no-t t-t-touch.” She was treating Master more like his name than a title now. She had found herself in his chair where she curled up. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say more but, again his eyes frightened her. She looked up and her throat closed up. She was trying to hide herself with her hands. She didn’t have the words for the truth she knew physically about her situation. So she spoke according to the spider egg size of hope she had in her chest. “You he-hel-ping r-resc-c-ue m-y f-amily?” But, her eyes went around the study.

She did see the tv and the triggering moment. Covering her ears before she suddenly gripped him. Standing on the desk and gripping him around the middle the tears started soaking through his shirt. She went from his chair to across the desk back to him with just a look at the tv. “H-elp, M-ast-er…” the constants were difficult over her own flowy language but, she was pressing the same body he wanted displayed against him. Instead of bending like a turtle her and her vanilla scent was pressed against him.

 

[Valken]

The little slave clung to Jericho as he lifted her up off the ground. Her little head shook at his words, more that she was in disbelief of them over not understanding them. Her mouth opened as if she was going to attempt to say something, but no words escaped her mouth. Every bit of her petite body was trembling as he carried her and set her down, the foreign girl being little more than a tiny leaf in the wind.

When his large hands found her dainty mounds, the girl moved with surprising speed across his desk and into the chair, considering all the trembling she had been doing. Her girly, almost sing-song-like voice came from her throat, stuttering over the English words with her accent as she asked him to not touch. She curled up on the chair, doing her best to cover as much of her bared skin as she could. After a few attempted she spoke again, asking if he had been helping rescue her family.

Seemingly feeling safe curled up in the chair her dark, teary eyes looked around the room. Almost instantly she found the television where her father's execution was paused on display. In an instant she was back across the table, this time her arms wrapped around Jericho's chest and she was crying into his shirt. He could hear her asking him for help as she sobbed into him.

Jericho took the opportunity to begin working at the buns her hair had been tied into. While she cried against him he pulled at the pins, and untied her hair until it was hanging loose. It was very much his preference to have her showing off her long feminine hair. Her hair was silky soft, left in light waves from being tied up and hung to about the middle of her back. Just perfect.

Next he raised his hand towards the TV, and closed it in a fist. The motion-sensor recognizing the action and turning the TV off. His experience with his new slave was not going exactly as he had planned it, but with her hugging him tightly, pressing her body against his, he was more than sure he would get his money's worth out of the Asian delight.

Reaching down he took a hold of her arms and peeled her off of him. Lifting her up one more, he again sat her down on the edge of the desk. He kept one hand firmly holding her upper arm, so she would not be able to squirrel away again. His other hand grabbed her chin and he forced her to look up at him, forced her to pay attention as he spoke. "Your family is dead. Your home is gone." He spoke slowly and plainly, so she would understand him. Although, it largely seemed she could understand him, she just couldn't communicate back. Mixed with what seemed to be a child-like nature, it mixed together to create a tearful, terrified little teen under his ownership. "You are now a slave. I am your owner. Your Master. You must do what I say, or you will be punished."

Letting go of her chin his hand went back to her arm. Again he lifted her up off the desk. This time Jericho knelt down onto one knee, and he laid her nubile little body over it. Her head down towards the wooden floor of his study, and her tight little ass facing upwards. It was the first time Jericho was able to get a good look at her behind, and he was quite satisfied with the round mounds of flesh that were now his. He admired her tanned, tight backside for a long moment; the string of the white thong she was wearing doing nothing to hide her bottom from his view, the 'shirt' she was wearing having fallen up her back.

He then gave the teenager a spanking. Quick, sharp slaps. He gave each of her ass cheeks two slaps, enough to leave the palm of his hand stinging and leave a nice pink tinge to her skin. After the four slaps Jericho stopped, leaving his hand on her bubbly bottom. Gently he squeezed, groping the teenagers backside as he held her bent over his knee. He gave her a firm, rough squeeze before sliding his hands to her waist.

Lifting her up as he stood, Jericho casually dropped her once more onto the large desk top. "I have commanded you twice now, to display yourself. Must I ask a third?" Jericho stood at the ready, should the little girl attempt to flee from her position on the desk once more.

 

[BeauQuiver]

The amount of information she had to process was starting to make Jia dizzy. She didn't fight his hold when he put her on the desk or held her chin. She was actually still clinging to his shirt while silent tears fell. All of them are gone? Jia felt as if her heart was going up on an inferno and freezing at the same time. Her bottom lip moving out as her mind replayed his words while he touched and moved her till the new position startled her.

"Taofi! fa'amolemole!" He heard more of her flowery Samoan before he rained his hand down on her. Then the loudest thing she said yet came out of her mouth. "MASTER!" Pain seemed to correct her stutter. She would go from balancing herself to attempting to cover herself. The four slaps were fast but it felt like forever. It became evident though he was dealing with a human body. Her stomach was fluttering furiously as he began to speak again. Her womanhood was damp around the string of the thong.

Pushing her hair away from her face she stood on the desk. Her backside felt on fire and she was trying to straighten her outfit again. Tears were still down her face. They had fed and watered her enough she still had liquids to spare. "Like a Turtle?" She strangely asked. As she slowly pulled back from him on the desk the reasoning for the question came clear. When she went to all fours like he previously explained she understood it as to curve her back up and out. She created a hunchback. And to lift the breasts he had so rudely touched early she got off her elbows and onto the tips of her fingers so the curve was even more dramatic. She was pushing all the parts he wanted in the wrong direction. She looked up for an ounce of approval but also to what direction he was facing. When she adopted the position on the center of his desk she had her ass pointed away from him.

Everyone is gone? So I just have him? But…but that can't be. No! Mom was still alive! She didn’t think she could say anything else to him. He had brought her here. Slave. She heard the compound talk about that. It was a very bad thing. They were fighting against it. The world was hellish where it existed. If she was that now was she bad or just in hell?