The Story of Slave Aureus Book One: As Told by Slave Aureus and Written by Miss Marie Clair Orman

By Slave Aureus and Miss Marie Clair Orman

Slave aureus was trained by the methods used in the story and did take place in the late seventies.


This Story is for ADULTS only


Aureus
Slave Aureus
Musson slave aureus

Are all personalities of Miss Marie Clair Orman and in real life Slave Aureus personality was created as written in the story.

So The Author is Slave Aureus through Miss Marie Clair Orman

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Sep 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781728375618

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THE

STORY

OF SLAVE

AUREUS

BOOK ONE

AS TOLD BY SLAVE AUREUS

AND WRITTEN BY

MISS MARIE CLAIR ORMAN

AuthorHouse™ UK

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403  USA

www.authorhouse.co.uk

Phone: UK TFN: 0800 0148641 (Toll Free inside the UK)

UK Local: (02) 0369 56322 ([phone] from outside the UK)

© 2022 Marie Orman. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  09/28/2022

ISBN: 978-1-7283-7560-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-7561-8 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or

links contained in this book may have changed since publication and

may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those

of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Foreword

The Story Of Slave Aureus

Sequence 1    Taster Of The Bullwhip

Sequence 2    Preparation To Slavery

Sequence 2    Preparation To Slavery Part 2

Sequence 3    The Breaking Of Slave Aureus

Sequence 4    A Slave Is Reborn

Sequence 5    Slave Training Program

Sequence 6    The Training Program

Sequence 6    Training Proigram Day 2

Sequence 7    The Ultimate Test

FOREWORD

Slave Aureus has been an Ambassador to the British BDSM society lifestyle and through active participation has helped surface and thereby trying to make safe such activities under the Safe Sane and Consensual ideology for those new and learning the lifestyle parameters, however slave aureus learned the hard way. This is that story of how she came to be

Slave aureus is known by many lifestylers worldwide as an active participant, a leader by example if you wish.

The operation that she is drawn into operated by previously establishing false names, so the names used are the ones known to slave aureus but not real names of those that took part. The importance of this is because slave aureus was taken to levels where truth would be paramount and so all had to be about a truth that she would come to know by the usage of pain and tortures.

Slave aureus was trained by the methods used in the story and did take place in the late seventies.

THE STORY OF SLAVE AUREUS

THE BEGINING

In the early 70’s I was involved with a guy called Peter, Peter was a self-made businessman that had studied electronics from school and with some qualifications got a job with an International Radio organisation and thus that meant he would be working anywhere in the global world. He developed an interest with Amateur Radio or Ham radio operations, and this got him into communicational chats with many people and especially those whom could afford the equipment and the warranted exams one had to do so you need an amount of electrical knowledge.

Obviously many heads of state within many countries also used these devices especially in the Middle East.

I knew Peter could speak Arabic because I heard him often chatting to people especially in Libya. Peter and I were together for about 3 years and we ran a shop and attended many UK Amateur Radio Rallies that were held in towns and cities the length of the UK, although we only ventured as far up north as Leeds and as far south as Plymouth and Kent. These events were mainly held at the weekends and Peter would sell anything from photocopies to specialised Radio add on accessories such as Transverters that could change 28 Megahertz to 432 hertz. Plus, amplifiers and he would eventually get a sponsorship to sell specific radio semiconductors. Over the years we started with one table and in the last year that I was with him we had about 6 tables at the many bigger events like Alexandra Palace London, Granby Halls Leicestershire and many others.

Somewhere along the way Peter and I drifted apart as we spent more time working with no real free time or free space. I was only getting an acknowledged basic pay so my Government Insurance stamp was being paid what little money I did get I managed to get saved away from Peters prying eyes.

In the end we did split, and I moved away for a while. Although Peter was working on ways to get me back. One idea was to offer me a holiday to Malta as I had never been abroad.

So Peter chose a period of time where would not loose too much by not attending the Radio Rallies. I was not aware that he had employed a young lad to fill my spot and he would leave him a ton of work preparing boxes for painting and making up components like coils had to be coiled link leads would need soldering at both ends etc.

Eventually we went from Gatwick Airport and arrived some 3 hours later and after getting through the various airport legal; departments we hailed a cab which seemed to me to be old bangers, oldie worldly buses which if in the UK would have failed the M.O.T.

We went to St Georges Bay area where Peter had hired an apartment with two single bedrooms which was fine by me. As I was jet lagged of a sort I just crashed into bed and slept through the night.

On the next day we went to an area Peter knew where we could swim within safety as Malta has a sort of deep shelf not too far out but this pool of water which a good few knew about soon gathered many people. You could see the bottom some 18 feet deep, I think.

I was kind of pleased with myself because I had not learned to swim as a kid. My parents would not let me have goggles flippers and snorkel till I could swim but I had an idea these things would help me and they did because when I discovered it was difficult to stay under water I found I could swim on the surface. Anyway, we spent a happy week going there and then back to the apartment until the weekend came along when Peter wanted to go clubbing which we did although I forget which one.

Somewhere during the evening my orange juice must have been spiked because I felt I could not move out of my seat and eventually some guys I had never seen before had put me on a stretcher I was sure they were not ambulance crews as they had no uniforms just T shirts and trousers then I must have fell asleep.

Strangely when I woke up I am in a hospital type bed in a room on my own with a splitting headache and feeling groggy with a faint memory of what’s took place in the last 12 hours I am not sure whether to be scared or worried as I look for my clothes which are not on me. I seem to have a blue scrubs type dress or long top on.

Then there’s a knock on the door and a uniformed guy comes in. I can see he has some kind of badge on his left breast pocket and as he approaches he’s holding out his hands and sort of making sshh type noise like you might do to calm someone.

He’s looking at a passport and calling my legal name and then holding up the picture as if to compare it with the real human being. As I try to sit up more my long hair which is down to my bum, and it catches me alerting to the fact I’ve been lying on most of it. It really needs a brush, long hair is fine but it needs brushing daily and washing more when one sweats.

I am not sure if he is trying to speak Maltese or a broken sort of Arabic. He pulls up a chair and sits himself down.

He commences into explaining himself and what has just took place in the last few hours telling me that some Arabic terror factions abduct UK and USA Nationals for to barter them for cash or get out of jail free cards. I suddenly wonder if we are playing Monopoly or are we in it.

All I want is to get the hell out of here and get home. Ok he says getting up out of his chair a bit quickly then he says we have been to your apartment and picked up your clothes and they are in that cupboard. I hesitantly ask about Peter? He turns to me and says who is Peter? I explain briefly how we came to be in Malta. He interjects saying we only found female clothes in your apartment I assume they are yours he enquires. I look in the case and I seem to recall finding everything I packed to come to Malta.

Dressing quickly as he tells me there is an aeroplane due to leave Malta in about an hour. I seem to remember one need to be there 2 hours before hand so I say that’s no good because they like everyone to be on site 2 hours before flight time. Again, he intercedes telling me that will not be a problem with a police escort.

We leave the room, and he leads me down a corridor and then it becomes clear I was in a medical room within the police station. He turns and immediately explains people such as myself are safer here than a hospital in case these people turn nasty and try to break in. its easier to guard victims from within our base than a hospital where the Doctors and nurses are trying to care for people and do not have the training that our staff covering the medical unit here inside the police station.

We step outside into a nice sunny afternoon and another Police officer has the back door open ready for me to step in and I do looking for the seat belts which there are none. Then no sooner does the officer who has been looking after me shuts his front passenger door and then the car speeds off I think it’s a Ford Zephyr.

Soon we arrive at the airport, and I seem to have acquired two police offers escorting me through the airport concourse which for a small country seems quite big. I am terrified of locking eyes with Peter but it’s not happening, and I do not know where he is.

Soon I am aboard the aeroplane for Gatwick Airport and I am sitting by the window behind a bulkhead wall I think, I can see the wing which seems to be level with my seat position and then soon the door shuts and the engines begin, I am somewhat desperate to get back to UK and so it all can not happen fast enough for me.

I must have drifted off into a deep sleep because I found myself waking when the aeroplane bumps down gently but enough to know we touched the ground and all the people on board gave rousing applaud of clapping which I was not sure why, but another passenger told me they do it for perfect landings.

The aeroplane taxied up to the gate and then when the aeroplane came to a complete stop, people seem to be getting up out of their seats and opening the boxes above their heads, getting their belongings out. Then without being told everyone started to exit the aeroplane.

We all seemed to clear customs and all the other agencies that operate there whilst I was trying to find the way to the railway station so that I could get a train home to Brighton.

Most airports seem to be a maze in the making and it took some time for me to locate Gatwick Airport Railways station and I boarded the first train for Brighton.

After arriving at Brighton, I treated myself to a taxi to get to my flat quickly as I had just about enough of this time. When I reached my flat, I popped into a local food shop for some milk and groceries for a meal and a cup of tea knowing full well that I would crash out in my flat and hopefully forget Malta.

I awoke to a nice sunny Tuesday morning, and I see by the mail that has been piling up, my copy of an amateur Glamour photographic modelling club magazine has arrived. I sort of got into this because it was suggested some months back that I had a good enough figure to have a go at this amateur modelling craze that seems to be all the rage.

As I am going through the mail I also see a posh looking cream envelope and it actually has a wax seal on the back which I had never seen before but I was aware of such things for Official type letters or paperwork, that lawyers tend to keep their documents in such a fashion.

I nipped into my kitchenette and picked up a knife as the envelope seems hard to open with my fingers and I do not have a letter knife.

When I get it open and pull out the letter which is in a typescript of quality to match the paper and the envelope.

To my astonishment I have been invited to a Glamour Photo shoot somewhere north of Lewis on Thursday. The letter goes on to say that a hired car with driver will pick me up at 11am for a 1pm shoot.

Suddenly my head is awash with panic as I need to get my hair washed, brushed and combed being so long I must get the hairdressers to do it. I do have some clothes that I use for these events like pink satin pencil skirts numerous high heels like most girls have and a variety of tops which includes a pick boa.

I even have a Courtney Colorflash studio light with umbrellas for all photo works within my flat, but I shall not take all that stuff on this occasion as they should have all that at the shoot, I am just going to travel light with just my glamour wear and makeup.

I soon managed to phone for an urgent appointment with the hairdresser and they promised to paint my fingernails too, which is set to happen tomorrow the next day Wednesday in the morning.

That will give me time to get a bath and soak out the last week and weekend which is still bothering me because Peter disappeared. I do not really want to phone his shop down the coast some 40 odd miles as I am convinced could be behind all this because after we split he kept saying and I quote If I can’t have you nobody will unquote.

I woke up early on the Thursday even though the year was in the latter months and winding down the sun was out and I thought to myself its going to be a good day. I went into the kitchenette to stick the kettle on for an early cup of tea, I am not really a coffee person we was brought up on tea, its supposed to have healing qualities. Whilst that was on the boil, I slipped into the bathroom to run a bath. Whilst these two things were doing their thing, I needed to put my hair up into a shower cap so as it did not get wet again and get messed up.

The kettle came to the boil and clicked off and I went back to the bathroom to check the bath water level which was enough so I turned off the hot tap. Then I went back to the kitchen to make my cup of tea. Whilst sipping my tea I was walking into the bathroom to run some cold in to get the water set to a temperature that was to my likening. soon I had drunk the tea and the bath was ready as I did not have time to waste, I stripped off my T-shirt night dress, I was not one for sleeping naked, I always thought that was a mans thing. Mother always told me to always wear a clean pair of knickers every day because you did not know where you would end up. I took that a bit further and extended it to T-shirt nightdress at night in case of fire or had to leave the flat in a hurry.

After a quick wash I got out of the bath and pulled the