CONFESSIONS OF A SLAVER: PART 1

 

I am a purveyor of female flesh. It=s really the only work I've ever done.  I learned it from the ground up, on my own, and eventually became a major player in the procurement and training of slaves.  Male and female, though I do prefer the thrill of turning a haughty, college educated, snobby female into a quivering mound of obedient, submissive slave meat willing to do anything for an orgasm.  Breaking males is also rewarding, just not as much fun for me, personally.  Now that I am preparing for what I hope to be a relaxing and enjoyable retirement, I've decided to put my life history into words.  Perhaps others will enjoy my story, and perhaps even learn something from my successes and failures. Paraphrasing the old ADragnet@ series, the story you are  about to read is relatively true.  Only the names have been changed to protect the not‑so‑innocent...which may include a few well‑known politicians, businessmen and news makers.

 

I somehow instinctively knew, even as a child, that my destiny was to hold dominion over women; that I was bred to rule them as much as they were deigned to serve me.  Some of my earliest memories, in fact, involved thoughts of domination. In those early years, accessibility was the main issue, and the female most accessible to me just happened to be my twin sister. 

 

Although my actual sexual use of Carolyn didn't begin until around puberty, some of my earliest recollections involve my power over her.  We were really complete opposites; I had brown hair and eyes; she was a light blonde with bright blue eyes and fair skin. I grew to over six feet tall, but she stopped at five two. I was demanding, but she was quiet and demure.  As long as I can remember, she always deferred to my wishes.  Whether it was deciding what movie to go see on Saturday or what to have for dessert, it was always my choice.  I always got the last of the ice cream, the best piece of fruit, the largest cookie, and the best seat in front of the television.  Whenever I wanted something, she simply complied without argument or hesitation.  No matter what the issue was, she always did whatever I wanted.  In retrospect, if there ever was such a thing as a born dominant or a born submissive, we were defined by those terms.

 

When we were younger, I didn't understand her natural submissiveness, and often used coercion to get my way.  I=d threaten to destroy one of her favorite toys, or that I was going get her into trouble with some outrageous lie if she didn't comply with my wishes.  I never had to actually follow through on any of this, though, as she always acceded to my wishes. The need for intimidation gradually disappeared with time, as my domination over her became a natural condition for us both.  Simply put, it was my place to command, and hers to serve.

 

By the time we entered the third grade, she was completely obedient to me.  At home, she followed me like a puppy, eager to do my bidding.  If I wanted the television channel changed, or a sandwich or drink from the kitchen, she took care of it while I relaxed on the couch.  I never lifted a finger I didn't have to.  Carolyn picked up my dirty clothes, cleaned my room, did my chores around the house.  I never washed a dish, swept a floor or mowed a lawn unless I wanted to. The only task I kept for myself doing my own schoolwork.  Even as early as elementary school, I understood that education was important to success, and in order to learn, I=d need to do my own work.  With Carolyn to do my chores, though, I had more time for study and quickly established myself as an outstanding student.  She, on the other hand, didn't.

 

Up until high school, there was absolutely nothing truly sexual about our relationship.  Sure, I required that she dress as I wanted her to, but I did that only to display my power over her.  Punishment usually consisted of me laying a belt across her ass, or sometimes, making her stand in the corner with her dress pulled up over her head.  She didn't really seem to mind either, though.

 

Ninth grade was the real changing point in our relationship.  Towards the end of the school year, I began exploring her budding body in great detail, tweaking, prodding and poking at all her various folds, nooks and crannies.  What I=d previously thought of as just a puffy slit between her legs was much more complex...a hole, some flaps of skin, a thing she peed out of, and a little nub at the top of the slit.  I discovered how she would shudder if I wiggled my finger inside her; she seemed to like it, so I=d do it from time to time.  Sometimes I=d have her play with herself for me.  I=d tell her to do whatever felt best, and I would watch and learn.  I saw her bring herself to her very first orgasm, splayed out on the kitchen floor.  I=d read about orgasms, had even had my own, but this was the first time I=d seen a girl have one.

 

I wanted her to learn about men, too, so I allowed her to explore my body as well.  This, however, was  only in the manner of my choosing.  I let her look, sometimes touch, but always made sure whatever she did was neither unpleasurable or painful to me.  I let her inspect my cock and balls, to inhale the odor of my ass, to kiss and lick me, but tit‑for‑tat didn't apply in all cases.  For instance, I regularly stuck a finger or thumb up her ass, but would never, ever let her do that to me. 

 

She had a few fine, silky strands of pubic hair, which I thought looked kind of nice, but decided against allowing her to keep.  I somehow knew keeping her hairless would enhance her submissiveness, so I made her lay on the floor with her legs spread, while I pulled them out as they appeared.  It sounded painful, and I suppose it was.  She flinched a lot and even let out a couple of squeals, but she took it without any real complaint.   Later, I=d have her shave daily, and eventually, I=d have it all removed permanently.

 

I wanted to keep her in her place, submissive and subservient to me, and I thought that one way to ensure this was to humiliate her whenever possible.  I began by not allowing her to wear any clothes when we were alone at home.  I don=t know whether it had any effect on her submissiveness, but my plan to humiliate her in this manner was an utter failure.  Nudity became her natural state, and she was often more comfortable naked than clothed.  At times, I even had to remind her to put something on before leaving the house or answering the door.  I know that even today she would still prefer to remain naked than wear even the skimpiest of clothes.

 

The following year was when I really started training and treating her as a slave.  At home, she wasn't allowed to make any decisions of her own.  I would tell her when she could eat, drink, go to the bathroom, speak, stand or sit.  If she wanted to ask permission to speak, she had to indicate that desire by holding her hand in front of her mouth...and this only gave her permission to vocalize a request to speak, which I often did not grant.  A request to pee was made by squatting with her legs open and her hand cupped under her cunt; to ask permission to shit, she assumed the same position and grunted.  I still punished her, only now it was usually with a belt or switch directly on her cunt, or shoving something painfully up her ass.   Everything she did had to be in my presence, whether it was using the toilet, getting dressed for school, or taking a drink of water.  If she felt the need to itch, she had to come to me and get permission.  Other than those acts necessary for her to do at school, every aspect of her life was now being controlled by me.

 

I extended her toilet training, too, having her hold my penis for me while I peed, then licking the head clean after I was done.  Of course, if her aim was off at all and I splattered on the toilet seat (or anywhere else), she was required to clean that up, too. Towards the end of the school year, I also started making her kneel at my feet while I defecated, setting as one of her chores the wiping of my ass afterwards.  Eventually, she became my personal urinal, swallowing my piss as I deposited it in her mouth, but that wouldn't happen for a couple of years yet.

 

With the start of the tenth grade, I denied her the use of undergarments altogether, even at school.  She was allowed to wear nothing but knee‑length or shorter dresses, white ankle socks and shoes.  Anywhere except school she went barefoot, unless shoes were required.  She had only one pair of socks, and I let her hand‑wash them just once a week, on the weekend.  At bedtime, I would stuff the smelly socks into her mouth and tie them in place, then bind her hands behind her back. She slept completely naked, of course.  Sometimes I=d tie her ankles to the bedposts, other times not.  She had neither linen nor pillow on her bed, just a single Army surplus wool blanket, and her bedroom door remained open at all times.  If I=d not let her pee before bed, I=d lay out a rubber sheet under her before laying her down to protect the mattress.  Carolyn knew she was expected to wet the bed early, and spend the entire night laying in the puddle of urine on those nights. She also knew she=d not be bathing in the morning, either.  Oh, the looks she got when she showed up at school smelling like piss was so degrading for her!

 

Now, being a fairly intelligent person, you=re probably asking yourself why our parents weren't noticing all this. The answer is quite simple: We had very little adult supervision.  Our mother left when we were four; Dad owned his own business, and worked very hard to provide for us.  A child of the Great Depression, he valued the dollar more than anyone I ever knew, and to me it seemed like making money was more important to him than spending time with his children.  I understand now that having been raised poor, he wanted better for his children.  Just because he wasn't always there didn't mean he didn't care about us, but based on what I've learned about his own childhood, I think he may just not have known how to relate to children.  After all, he had to quit school in the fifth grade in order to help his family out; his education didn't resume until he entered the Army during World War II.

 

When we were younger, Dad would arrange for someone to be there when we got home from school.  Most of the sitters he hired tended to spend more time watching TV or talking on their boyfriends on the phone than looking after us, though. The average sitter would last a few weeks at most, but that all ended when he came home early one day and found the new one passed out on the floor, a baggie of drugs on the coffee table next to her. I was finally able to convince Dad that we were old enough to take care of ourselves.  He was always there when we got up in the morning anyway, so he could make sure we got off to school, and we had homework that usually took us until dinnertime in the afternoon.  Surprisingly, he agreed, and suddenly I had the opportunity to extend my domination over Carolyn to nearly full‑time.

 

We both received small allowances each month; Carolyn always turned hers over to me, and I never spent a penny of it.  Now, though, it was time for her to start buying things.  Each month, I=d give her a shopping list of items I expected her to purchase.  First on the list was her new after‑school outfit:  a pink dog collar, a matching leash, and a pair or cheap plastic 6" costume heels I=d seen at the dollar store.  The following month, it was a supply of makeup and a tag for her collar, which ASlave Carolyn@ on one side, and AProperty of@ followed by my name on the other.  She couldn't wear makeup at school yet – it was against the school dress code - but I had her practice every day at home.  I=d have her slather lipstick and eye shadow on her face until she looked like a street corner whore, then make her clean it off and start all over again.  I took pages out of men=s magazines, and had her practice looking like the centerfold sluts.

 

This was also when I started using her sexually, as well.  I found a book on oral sex in the bargain bin at a thrift store; it had apparently been place there by mistake.  It didn't really contain all that much detail, but the photos were invaluable to me.  I poured over it, made Carolyn study it, then tried out the techniques.  It took her some time, but she was eventually able to take my entire cock mouth.  I usually fucked her mouth three times a day ‑ one in the morning, one after school, and another at bedtime.  At first I let Carolyn have an orgasm for each of mine, but quickly discovered that she=d be more eager to please me if I let her go without for a few days.  So I started rationing her orgasms and limiting her to just a couple a week.  Sometimes, though, if I wasn't particularly pleased with her, I=d make her go without for a longer period of time.  Since she had little to no privacy from me, restricting her ability to cum wasn't all that hard.  After three or four days, she was usually even more compliant than normal, and after a week, would offer to do the most outrageous things just for the privilege of a single orgasm.  Sometimes I took her up on her offer ‑ once time she French kissed the neighbor=s dog ‑ but even then, I seldom gave her the release she so desperately needed.

 

Because she would be required to dress out for gym class each day, it would be necessary for her to wear undergarments.  The day before school began, I took her to the scrungiest second‑hand store in town and picked out a pair of threadbare cotton panties and a bra with worn‑out straps for her.  Carolyn was only allowed to wear them for P.E., so I had her keep them in her gym locker.  I never let her bring them home, so by the end of the year, they were torn, filthy and stiff from the accumulated sweat and other body fluids.  Since she had gym right after lunch, she usually had time to get into the locker room before the other girls showed up.  Every so often, though, I=d delay her ‑ usually by getting a blow job in the bushes behind the shop building ‑ so that she=d have to risk the other girls seeing her.  Most of her classmates already had their suspicions about her, so I don=t think her not‑so‑secret becoming common knowledge would have changed much.

 

I added a new twist to her dress code that year, making her wear a red scarf around her neck during her period.  It took a while, but some of the girls finally figured it out, and soon word was passed to the whole school...Carolyn is wearing red...she's on rag!.  It was deathly embarrassing to her, and totally amusing for me.  Other than the scarf and being able to wear undergarments for gym, her dress code remained the same.  She wore nothing but above-the-knee dresses, socks and shoes. 

 

There were a number of other rules I instituted, as well.  First and foremost, she was not allowed to speak to any other male except a teacher or faculty member, and then only in response to a question.  When spoken to by me or a male teacher, she was to keep her eyes lowered submissively (the teachers thought she was just shy) and respond in a soft, demure voice, with Asir@ being the first or last word out of her mouth. Her knees were never allowed to touch each other, and she had to sit with her bare ass on her chair seat. She was not allowed to use the toilets at school.  If there was an emergency, she would come to me and I=d let her squat on the dirt behind the shop building.  If she changed tampons at school, she had to keep soiled one with her until she could dispose of it at home.  I can still remember the first time I made her walk home, carrying the wet, bloody tampon in her mouth.  She wretched the entire way, finally vomiting on the back steps of the house.

 

Because of the way she dressed and acted, she quickly became a pariah.  She had no friends, and not just because I didn't permit her to have any. The boys and girls both considered a freak, making her the butt of jokes and many rude, often obscene comments.  My friends would talk to me about her, but I=d just dismiss their comments with a shrug.  They knew I was one of the best students in school, while Carolyn lagged at the bottom of the class.  It wasn't because she was stupid; she was just as intelligent as me.  No, the reason she did so poorly in school is because I forbade her from doing any studying, and punished her for every test in which she scored a B or better. She also knew each D or F would mean I=d grant her one favor ‑ her favorite thing was for me to give her oral sex ‑ so she tried her best - or least - on her tests.  Her future was going to be as someone=s property, and she didn't need to know much more than wash, clean, cook and fuck.  Reading a cookbook was important; being able to recite the Preamble to the Constitution, understanding Siddhartha, and knowing how to graph an inequality, simply were not things she needed to be skilled at.

 

It was about this time ‑ just before the end of our sophomore year ‑ that Dad found out what has going on.   The day that happened, I just knew my life was going to come to an end. 

 

CONFESSIONS OF A SLAVER: PART 2

 

It was late on a Saturday morning when Dad walked in on us.  His normal routine was to spend the morning working, then coming home early to take us all to dinner.  He'd been gone for a couple of hours, and neither of us expected to see him again until at least 3:00 that afternoon.  We were wrong.

 

I'd just finished watching Carolyn bring herself to orgasm ‑ she was being rewarded for getting a D on a term paper ‑ this time by pressing herself onto the dining room table, rubbing her wet cunt up and down over the pointed corner, until she came, screaming.  She'd just fallen to the floor, exhausted, her swollen, abused gash fully exposed, when I heard the front door open.

 

 Understandably, the first words out of Dad=s mouth at seeing his 15 year old daughter splayed naked on the floor, panting from an explosive orgasm, were, "What the fuck?"

 

I, of course answered in a typically intelligent and coherent manner.

 

"Uh, hi, Dad.  I...uh...didn't know you were coming home."  Life as I knew it was coming to a quick end.

 

"Well, that's sure as Hell obvious.  Care to tell me what the fuck is going on here?  Why the fuck is your sister naked?" 

 

This was no time for lies or bullshit.  I took a deep breath.  The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth.

 

"I don't let Carolyn wear clothes when you're not home, Dad," I began explaining.

 

"You 'don't let her wear clothes?'  Just what does that mean?" he cut me off. "Why the hell would she do what you say, anyway?

 

"She's my slave, Dad." 

 

He didn't say anything for several seconds, just moving his eyes back and forth between the two of us.

 

"Slave," he finally said.

 

"Slave,' I affirmed.

 

AYou force her to do this, then.@

 

ANo.  She does it willingly, Dad.  It=s just the way she is. Me, too, for that matter.  Not a slave, I mean, not me.  I=m the other way,@ I tried unsuccessfully to explain.

 

"And you want this, Carolyn?" he asked, looking at her.   I looked at her nodded, signaling for her to answer.

 

 She averted her eyes before softly responding, "Yes, Sir."

 

"Why?  How long?  Shit, I don't believe any of this," he said, shaking his head.

 

Carolyn placed her hand in front of her mouth, indicating a request to be permitted to speak.  Again, I nodded.

 

"Sir," Carolyn started, "I can't remember a time when it didn't feel right to not do what he says.  I guess you could say I've really been his slave as long as I can remember.  I don't think I can really explain why, other than to say 'because it's what I am, because it feels right, because this is what I'm supposed to be."

 

AI suppose you've been fucking her regularly, too?  Peddling her ass to your buddies, maybe?@ he asked venomously, his eyes focused angrily on me.

 

ANo, Dad, not yet.   She wants me to, but I=m not sure I want to do that.  Eventually, I=m going to fuck her, and I might even whore her out after that, or maybe even sell her cherry,  but she's not ready yet.  She does give pretty good head, though.@  I cringed inwardly after blurting that last part out, wondering if my life would end now.

 

He mulled my comments over for a moment before responding.  ASo, my daughter is a cock sucker and a slave to her brother, but still a virgin, huh?@ he commented.

 

AThat=s about it, Dad,@  I answered.  The room fell silent, the only sound that of the clock tick‑tocking on the mantle.

 

AI see," he said, returning his attention to his naked daughter, kneeling now, knees spread wide and her cunt visibly dripping.  "You say she has a decent mouth?  How long have you been using it?"

 

"About a year," I answered.  I could tell he was giving the concept of his daughter being a slave some thought.  It was more the change in attitude than the obvious hardness in the front of his pants, but the change was quite clear.

 

"May I address your slave, then?" he asked, much calmer now.

 

"It's your house, and she=s your daughter," I shrugged.  "You have as much right as anyone."

 

"Get up on your feet, you little bitch!" he suddenly yelled, grabbing her by the hair and wrapping one of his huge fists in it.  "You want to be a sex slave, fine, but your days of ignoring the man who gives you food and shelter are over.  If you want to remain in my home, you'll be my slave just as much as you are your brother=s.  Understand, cunt?"

 

'Y...yes, Sir," she stammered, shocked by the change of events.

 

"Is that all right with you?" he asked me.  "I don't have a problem with your relationship, but if you want to live here, you'll both abide by MY rules."

 

"No problem at all, Dad," I replied.  "Consider it rent if you want.  Carolyn, from now on you obey your father as you would me," I told her.

 

"Yes, Sir," she answered, dropping to her knees at Dad's feet.

 

"Good.  I'm glad we understand each other.  Now, it's been over a month for me, so how about you wrap those slutty lips around my cock and start sucking!"

 

That day marked a major change in our lives ‑ mine, Dad's, but most of all, Carolyn's.  We transformed her bedroom into something out of a sexual sadist's dream.   First, we stripped it completely ‑ no carpet, no draperies, no furniture.  The heat and air conditioning vent was permanently shut, and the window locked.  We replaced the door with a heavy-duty, fire rated one, and installed twin keyed deadbolts to secure it.  Carolyn could now be locked in or out at our choosing.  For ambiance, we Awallpapered@ the room with cutouts from skin magazines showing naked women being abused - whipped, ass-fucked, sucking off dogs, just about everything imaginable - and later, supplemented these with photos of Carolyn=s naked, abused body.  A heavy eye bolt secured to the floor gave us a place to lock our slave to when we weren't using her.  The only furnishings were an old, filthy mattress on the floor, her water and food bowls, and a bucket she could use as a toilet.  We seldom let her empty it more than twice a week, so she was careful to use it only when absolutely necessary.

 

She didn't spend much time in her room, though.  Her days were filled with chores, and at night, she would be chained by the collar to the foot of either my bed or dad=s. Wherever she spent the night, she served as an alarm clock, gently sucking on cock until her Master of the morning awakened, spewing his load into her eager teenage mouth, then following up with his morning piss.  Once that was over, she crawled into the other bedroom and repeated the process.

 

With her normal breakfast of two loads of cum and urine consumed, she was expected to prepare our breakfasts.  The fare varied day‑to‑day, but was always served hot and cooked to perfection.  Anything less, she knew, would result in a beating she'd not soon forget.

 

Once breakfast was over, Dad and I would go get dressed for our day, while Carolyn would hurry through her morning chores ‑ washing the dishes and making sure the house was spotless.  If she had done an acceptable job, we=d allow her an orgasm once every few days, usually by pressing herself into the palm of our hand or the tip of a shoe.  She usually had about five minutes to get dressed, including putting her makeup on, before school.  The privilege of orgasm had a price, however; she never had enough time  to get cleaned up before school, and would end up attending class with cum and piss on her breath.

 

Dad thought up all sorts of nasty and humiliating things to make Carolyn do, too.  For instance, since she was already wiping my ass after I shit, Dad decided we didn't need to spend money on toilet paper; she could just use her hand.  From that, it was just a small step to having her clean our assholes with her tongue.  It was Dad who suggested tying fishing weights to tiny flat metal clips, then clamping them on to her inner labia. She screamed the first time we did it, but we just ignored her and continued adding weights. It wasn't very long before her inner lips hung down below the outer ones.

 

It was also Dad who set up her diet: breakfast for Carolyn was a bowl of dry dog food, usually moistened with her own piss; dinner consisted of scraps tossed onto the floor for her to scramble after.  Lunch, if she had any, was usually a cold stew of vegetable trimmings, and perhaps, if she'd been exceptionally obedient, a few little chunks of fat trimmed from our steaks. On school days, she just went hungry – unless I decided to fill her belly with a couple of shots of semen.  We were careful to make sure she stayed healthy, though; a sick slave is just a burden, so she got a daily megadose of vitamins, antibiotics at the first sign of illness, and she got a normal meal every two days.

 

Dad and I both used her mouth each the morning,  being very careful to resist the temptation afforded by her wet pussy.  We did finally break in her asshole, Dad suggesting it as an alternative hole for us to use, while allowing her cherry to remain intact.  It soon became normal for her to walk to school not only with piss on her breath, but cum dripping out of her abused rectum.   

 

Once in a while Dad would bring a date home - sometimes obviously a hooker - that we'd share.  If the date seemed like she'd be okay with it, we'd have Carolyn "fluff" us, then clean everyone up afterwards.  A couple of times ‑ usually with some whore Dad rented, but once with a regular date ‑ we'd have a girl‑on‑girl show to get things warmed up.  We both noticed how much Carolyn didn't like to eat another girl=s pussy, so we started doing that regularly.

 

Dad and I decided it was time to change Carolyn's dress code again.  Frilly socks and patent leather shoes were out; in were mini‑skirts, stockings and spiked‑heel shoes.  Her blouses always showed plenty of cleavage, enhanced considerably by her lack of a bra. On the few occasions when she was permitted panties (usually only when her skirt was so short that she'd be exposed when standing), they were nothing but the tiniest of g‑strings.  She was still required to wear red during her period ‑ a not‑so‑fashionable red leather choker, which embarrassed her even more than her scarf had.

 

Carolyn's attire pushed ‑ more often than not exceeded ‑ the school's published dress code.  Her skimpy attire resulted in being sent to the Principal's office nearly weekly, but she soon learned that detention could be easily avoided.  All she had to do was crawl under the Principal's desk and open that sexy mouth of hers.  The Principal was the only person in the school who knew Carolyn for the slut she was; to everyone else, she was a cock‑tease who showed off, never dated and never, ever put out.

 

Her becoming a cock tease was an intentional move on my part.  No longer completely prohibited from talking to male classmates, she could now respond if they initiated the conversation.  However, she was required to speak in a seductive, sexy voice, filled with sexual innuendo. She could fondle boys through their trousers, rub her own crotch and squeeze her breasts while they talked to her, but that was as far as she was permitted to go.  Nobody was allowed to touch her, and she was not permitted to be alone with anyone but me or dad.  By the end of the first semester, she=d pissed of and frustrated nearly the entire male student body ‑  exactly what I wanted.

 

Though certainly no stranger to cock, Carolyn managed to keep her cherry intact, and was still a virgin on her sixteenth birthday.   Now, you might think it strange that a teenage boy with readily‑available and willing pussy wouldn't avail himself of it, but keeping Carolyn's cherry intact was always foremost in my mind.  Besides, between Dad's whores and my own dates, I was getting plenty of snatch.  As a middle‑schooler, I was already taking classes at the high school level, and even tutored a couple of high school girls ‑ both juniors on the cheerleading squad ‑ who paid for their weekly sessions by spreading their cute little tanned legs for me.

 

Dad and I decided that sixteen would be the magic age for the true slut in Carolyn to be permitted to appear in public.  Fifteen was the age of consent in our state back then, which meant nobody could be prosecuted for statutory rape, as long as she was willing.  We'd also quietly discussed the precise manner in which she'd lose her virginity; I knew she wanted something romantic and loving; she'd asked me several times to be the one to do it, but I wanted her to be humiliated and totally degraded.  Needless to say, my wishes took precedence over hers.

 

A rumor ‑ initiated by yours truly ‑ quickly circulated by whispered word that Carolyn wanted to sell her virginity so she could buy designer clothes for herself.  Not a car, not money for college or anything that might be considered marginally acceptable, but expensive, slutty clothes.  Many of the girls already wondered aloud whether she bought her outfits at  "Sluts R Us," and the comments became even cruder when “her” desires became known.

 

Of course, they weren't her desires at all, and none of the money would be going into her pocket anyway.  Carolyn was quite content to continue servicing Dad and myself, and if one of us wanted her pussy, that was fine with her.  The only thing was, her own wishes didn't matter a bit.  So, a cherry auction was arranged. The school cock‑tease was going to be transformed, at least in the eyes of her classmates, into the school whore.  What she didn't realize was that's exactly what she was going to be ‑ the school's whore.

 

By now ‑ her sophomore year ‑ she'd outgrown the prepubescent baby fat that had caused her such consternation and worry.  At 5'5" and 96 pounds, though, she was a still a pedophilic dream ‑ particularly with her shaved, untouched gash.  Her wavy brunette hair hung in light wisps down to the middle of her back.  I found it very handy to be able to grab a handful of hair and force her head onto my cock, or to tie it to the headboard.  With her hands secured tightly behind her back, she was totally helpless and completely available whenever I wanted a midnight blow job, or just felt the need to amuse myself by molesting her young body. Of course, as light as she was, she didn't have much in the way of tits, just a 32B, but based on photos of our well‑endowed mother, I figured she'd soon grow upstairs. Besides, her height coupled with her 22 inch waist made her tits seem larger than they really were.  I=d recently heard of hormones to make breasts grow, and wondered what she=d look like as a 48DD.

 

Her body was unmarked, except for the occasional bruises or welts from her latest whipping.  For her "cumming out" party, she had neither; we'd been careful to allow the bruises and welts to disappear, giving her an even more innocent, virginal appearance.  She was neither pierced nor tattooed (except for ear piercings, such things weren't  fashionable yet), and didn't have a single permanent blemish on her body.  Even her teeth were perfect, straight and ivory white, without a single filling.  She was fastidious about her hygiene when permitted, and as I insisted, clean shaven.

 

We'd used Carolyn regularly over the two weeks leading up to her 'devirginization," but had allowed her no release of her own.  By now, her need was apparent, and she was desperately docile and compliant in the hopes that she'd be allowed to cum.  She, of course, didn't know anything of our plans, other than that she was going to have her virginity taken by the highest bidder.

 

The night of our fifteenth birthday, we sixteen year olds celebrating a "grown up" birthday; I wore a suit, and Carolyn wore a cute lacy party dress, stockings, heels, and a moderate amount of makeup.  It was what wasn't readily visible that differed.  Under Carolyn's dress she wore nothing but a garter belt.  The heels, barely visible under the dress, were six inches high.  Little rubber bands at the base of her nipples made them poke out, long and erect, and the butt plug in her ass kept the copious amount of lubricant from dripping out.  Her cunt was swollen and wet, thanks to the several hours of self‑abuse we'd made her inflict on herself, never allowing her to cum.

 

Carolyn sat quietly through dinner, picking at the plain dinner salad (no dressing) and sipping at her water while Dad and I gorged on prime rib and baked potatoes, with large slices of ice cream‑covered pie for desert.  Carolyn had tasted neither pie nor ice cream since she was twelve years old, and audibly whimpered when the waitress bought our portions out.  While we enjoyed our desert, Dad whispered to Carolyn that the only cream she'd be getting be what she sucked from cocks.  The teasing and fear she had of the unknown degradations she'd be experiencing finally brought tears to her eyes.

 

Once back in the van, Carolyn was outfitted with the final parts of her outfit for the evening:  a restraint set consisting of a thick red leather collar and matching ankle and wrist restraints.  Heavy chains connected her ankles and wrists to each other, and a third chain ran from the collar to her wrists, terminating at the center of the hobble chain between her ankles.  Finally, a large red ball gag topped her outfit off.

 

Our destination, though Carolyn didn't yet know it, was the high school we both attended.  The Principal ‑ who Carolyn had been regularly offering her sweet mouth to ‑ eagerly provided us access to the school's theater.  It was a fine theater, on par with those found in many medium‑sized colleges.  Perfect acoustics, unobstructed seating and a complete sound and lighting system were all going to make for a memorable evening.

 

Carolyn looked horrified when she saw that Dad was pulling into the school parking lot. The realization that her virginity was going to be taken in front of her classmates struck, her like a hammer blow to the abdomen.  She'd assumed this event would be restricted to a few select men, but now it might well be the whole student body!

 

Well, I did nothing to quell her fears, but there were nowhere near that number of people.  Certainly more than the select few she'd prayed for, but 200 attendees was small in comparison to the total enrollment at the school.  Among this group, each of whom had paid a $50 entrance fee just to be here, were more than a few teachers and administrators.  Even without the auction ‑ or the other activities I had planned ‑ my sister=s cherry had already earned me $10,000.

 

As I led my chained and gagged sister out onto the stage, a hush fell over the audience.  With the spotlights blinding her, of course, Carolyn had no idea how many people were present, nor who they were.  Her only hint was the quiet murmurs and rustling of papers ‑ each attendee received a souvenir portfolio of photos, of the cock‑tease herself in a variety of obscene poses.  Each picture was captioned with some lewd yet totally fictitious comment allegedly from my sister, just to whet their appetites.

 

I led Carolyn over to the four‑poster bed strategically placed in the middle of the stage, a leftover from the Drama class=s recent performance of AA Christmas Tale,@ and used a padlock to secure her collar to a short chain at the footboard.  I then walked to the microphone at stage right, leaving her standing alone in the glare of the spotlights pointed at her. She certainly had no idea what was coming next, probably expecting that bidding would start, she'd go lay down on the bed, and her virginity would go away.  Well, bidding would start, but not quite the way she expected.

 

"Gentlemen ‑ and ladies‑ welcome to tonight's activities," I announced.  Carolyn glanced fearfully at me.   She hadn't expected any women or girls to be present!  To get fucked in front of a bunch of men was one thing, but to have other girls watch?  Her face glowed bright red in the light of the spotlights. "I know you're all anxious to see my cock‑tease of a sister turned into a slut, but here are some preliminaries to take care of first."  A groan rolled from the audience, and I waited a moment before continuing.

 

"First of all, since this is all Carolyn's idea, and since she asked me to help, she wants to pay me back for my time and effort in getting this going.  What she's asked is that before her cherry is auctioned off, she=d like to make souvenirs of her clothes. We'll auction off each item she=s wearing.  Whoever wins an article will then get to remove it from her him‑ or herself, and then get five minutes of doing whatever you want to whatever parts of her body are uncovered.  The only restriction on that is no serious harm, as defined by me, and her cherry remains intact for the winning bidder of that item. You can poke, prod, pinch, tickle, slap, whatever, but when I say time=s up or you=re going to far, that=s it.  Anyone exceeds those limits, the auction is over and she goes home with her cherry intact.@  I let them mull that over for a moment before I continued.

 

AThe grand prize will be her panties; the winner will have the option of taking her virginity right here on the stage, or later, in private.  Then after she=s fucked for the first time, she=d like to make >sloppy seconds= available to anyone who willing to spend ten bucks for a crack at one of her holes.  And yes, I mean exactly what I said.  Any hole at all.  Except for her pussy, the cock‑tease you've all been lusting after is quite experienced with both her mouth and asshole.  Consider it your contribution to her clothing fund, if you wish.@  Carolyn looked horrified, while a cheer erupted from the room.

 

I only got fifty dollars for the dress, considerably less than it cost me, but the pimply‑faced freshman who won it had been one of those kids Carolyn had denigrated since the third grade.  He took great pleasure in having my sister kneel in front of him and suck on his cock.  Her face was, after all, uncovered.  Bidding picked up after that, and by the time by the time she was standing in nothing but white spiked heel shoes, lace‑topped stockings and skimpy panties, I was nearly two thousand dollars to the good.  Her face and nipples had taken the brunt of the action, the two boys getting sloppy blow jobs, while the girl who won her slip taking her disgust out on my sister’s nipples with her long, manicured fingernails.

 

I was about to continue with the stockings, figuring wearing almost nothing but her shoes would be good for business, when a voice rang out from the audience. "I want to fuck her the way she is!@  Another voice agreed, and as more joined in, I thought it over quickly.

 

"Okay," I announced, "The next bidding will be for the lot...panties, shoes, stockings and cherry!  You can have her wear whatever you want when you fuck her!"

 

The wagering went hot and heavy, starting at a full thousand dollars.  I'd figured I=d get three or four hundred at the most, but I'd underestimated both the funds available to  my clientele and their the interest in untouched cunt.  Standing on the stage as I was, I could make out little more than shadowy figures.  As the bidding progressed, it narrowed to a contest between two; what no one knew was that it was all a setup.  I=d made these arrangements months ago, and everything from this point had been carefully choreographed. 

 

My gavel pounded on the lectern three times, and Carolyn=s virginity was sold.   There were actually two winners, who as far as anyone knew, had pooled their funds at the last minute.  In reality, they=d been picked well in advance because of their particular predilections, though the money was quite real.  I didn’t feel as though I’d cheated anyone; they were the high bidders, after all.

 

AIt seems we have a conflict,@ I announced, going over the written request sent up to me.  AWe actually have two winners who have combined their money to submit the high bid.  At their request, the first will actually make the first penetration and strip my sister of her virginity; the second will be the one to cum inside her. Please meet the winners, Juanita Juarez and Mike Wilson=s dog, Prince!@

 

 

 

THINGS I HAVE DONE: CONFESSIONS OF A SLAVER

Part III

 

That night marked the beginning of Carolyn=s new career as the school whore.  She just wanted to be a slut, but I made her take money for it, so she became the school whore.

 

Before the weekend was out, everyone in town knew that Carolyn had lost her virginity to a lesbian=s strap‑on, and that the first real cock to cum inside her belonged to a dog.  Word got out about the ensuing gang‑bang, as well, though there was considerable debate about who was really there and who wasn=t.  There were at least 500 people claiming first‑hand knowledge, but I knew less than half that number were actually present.  Everyone there, though, was allowed to sample my sister=s wares.   Once the paying customers were through with her, that was.

 

The way it worked was with the ticket stubs.  Everyone got a ticket when they paid for their admission.  What nobody knew was that each ticket was worth a crack at either her cunt, her ass or her mouth.  Tickets ending in 1 through 3 got her ass, 4 through 6 got her cunt, and 7 through 0 received blow jobs.  It took seven hours before the last one was finished, and by then, Carolyn was delirious and covered in cum.  When I finally helped her onto her feet, she mumbled a quiet, Athank you,@ and smiled at me.  I know she wasn=t thanking me for untying her.

 

Carolyn continued to go to school, but never attended class after that.  Instead, she spent her days in a small utility room in the basement.  One of the janitors ‑ who received free daily use of her body in return for it ‑ provided an old mattress, which was the only furnishing in the room.  Whenever she was in the room, Carolyn=s collar remained chained and locked to an overhead steam pipe.  This allowed her enough slack to move around, even to use the toilet and sink when she needed to, but kept her secured and aware of her condition. 

 

I maintained Carolyn=s Adate book@ for her, ensuring she was neither over‑ nor under‑used.  Payment was required in advance; $20 for fifteen minutes, which was usually more than enough time.  She had a maximum of three dates per hour, and an hour break at lunchtime.  I found that most of the boys tended to shy away from her in the afternoon if I didn=t get her cleaned up first.  A normal school day for her would mean 15 loads of cum, and $300 dollars in my pocket.  I would also occasionally rent her out on the weekends, but this was only for select friends and special events.  The first full year, my gross income from her was a bit over $40,000 ‑ pretty good for a sixteen year old back in 1968!  Thanks to the money Carolyn was earning, Dad was able to sell his business and invest the money in more pleasurable pursuits. 

 

After Carolyn=s Acumming out@ party, neither Dad nor I used her much anymore.  She was busy all day long, and usually had a date most evenings.  She was still responsible for taking care of the house, cooking meals and cleaning, however, so we decided by mutual agreement that her duties would be mostly limited to just that.  On those few nights when she wasn=t on a date, though, she=d spend the evening at home, servicing her Owners.  She would be able to share those duties, however, because I soon picked up a second slave.

 

It was just three days after the party at school that I was approached by the girl who would eventually be my second slave, Carolyn=s replacement.  She wasn't one of the best looking creatures I'd seen, but with a bit of work, wouldn't be something I'd kick out of bed (but then again, how ugly would any female have to be to be kicked out of an 18 year old's bed?).  She was a tall, lanky blonde, with stringy hair that seemed to always be dirty and without shape. She wore those stupid‑looking "movie star" glasses that went out of fashion ten years earlier, but that I later discovered the reason for it: Her mother thought were so "neato."   Close to six feet tall, all legs and arms like a Great Dane puppy, and about as coordinated as one, too.  No tits to speak of, though how I could tell at first was somewhat of a mystery.  The way she dressed was just plain old ugly.  Wool plaid skirts extending to mid‑calf.  White knee socks and those clunky, ugly black leather shoes that never wore out.  Blouses buttoned to the neck.  Short version:  She dressed like a wannabe nun, and everyone figured she=d gladly die a virgin.  Well, nobody had ever been farther from the truth.  She turned out to be a wildcat, and even sluttier than my sister.

 

Her name was Annie, and as I found out later, was living alone with her mother in subsidized housing.  Their sole income was welfare and the few dollars her mother made working piecemeal as a seamstress.  Her father abandoned them when he discovered her mother was pregnant ‑ at the age of 14.  Annie was a smart girl, advanced in grade twice, so she was only fifteen and already a junior. That mean her mother was barely 30.

 

"Excuse me," she said to me in the crowded hallway on that memorable day.  "I need to talk to you."

 

"So talk," I responded gruffly, crossing my arms impatiently.

 

"I can't say it here.  Please?  After school somewhere?" she nearly begged.

 

"Boy's locker room," I said.  "Inside, by the towel room."  I couldn=t think of any reason but one why she=d want to talk to me privately, and if I was right, going into an empty boy=s locker room would soon be an insignificant issue.  I knew the place was going to be deserted ‑ the Coach who would normally be there after school had a date with my sister ‑ but I don't think Annie knew that.

 

I waited around for fifteen minutes, and was just about to leave when I heard the door swing open, then the clunk‑clunk‑clunk of hard‑soled shoes.  Timidly, Annie peered down each row of lockers before passing them, approaching me.

 

"So what the fuck do you want, bitch?" I spat, causing the already scared girl to cringe.

 

"I...uh...I...uh...uh..."  She was, quite literally, speechless.

 

"Shit," I said in disgust, turning my head.  "You're so fucking stupid you don't even know what you want.  This is a waste of my time."   I turned and stared to walk away.

 

"No!  Wait, please!" she called.  "This is so hard..."

 

"No, it's not, bitch.  We both know why you're here.  Now tell me!"  I nearly shouted through clenched teeth, grabbing her by the chin and forcing her to look into my eyes.  "Tell me!"

 

"It's your sister!" she cried.  "I want...need...to be like her!  Please?"  Tears streamed from her eyes, whether from the humiliation and pain of her admission, or the pain of her face being squeezed in my fist.

 

"Do you know what my sister is?" I asked.  "Do you really know?"

 

"She's a slut...a whore who fucks for money," she cried.

 

"That's right, she's MY slut, and MY whore, but that's not all she is.  Do you know what she really is?"  I pushed my thumb deeper into the side of her cheek, feeling her jaws separate.

 

"She's your slave," Annie whispered, grimacing painfully as my thumbs poked into her jaws..

 

"That's what you want?  To be a slave?  Not just mine, but anybody's?  Because there's no guarantee I'd keep you, even if you do happen to make it through training. You're sure you want to be a slave?  Be careful how you answer, because if you say yes, there's no going back.  Even if you fail, the best you'll ever be is a whore, spreading your legs for a few dollars.  Is that truly what you want?"  I let go of her face and she fell against the wall, trying to regain her balance.

 

"Uh...I think so," she mumbled, holding her head down in shame.  "I have these dreams sometimes..."

 

"Sometimes, or all the time?" I asked pointedly, knowingly.

 

"Most of the time.  Like in class, when the teacher is lecturing, or in church during the sermon. Whenever I=m bored.  At night, when I=m trying to get to sleep.  When I watch those old movies about Roman soldiers and slave girls.  Even when there aren't any slave girls, I imagine myself naked at the feet of the movie  star ‑ it doesn't matter who, or even if it's a him or a her ‑ waiting to do their bidding."  She blushed in embarrassment while she told me the story.

 

"Give me your panties," I suddenly commanded, holding out my hand.  "Come on," I coaxed gently when she hesitated.  "Just reach under your skirt and pull them off.  You don't have to show me anything. just give them to me."

 

Annie carefully reached under her skirt and slowly pulled down her undergarment.  White cotton Agranny panties," just what I expected.  She turned bright red as she lifted them from the floor and handed them to me.  Not surprisingly, I immediately noticed the crotch was warm and damp.

 

"You just passed your first test, little one," I announced, anointing her with her first slave name  as I patted her gently on the head.  "From now on, though, you are not permitted panties.  Or a bra, for that matter.  Tomorrow when you come to school, no bra, no panties and no socks.  With your titties, I won=t be able to tell by looking whether you're wearing a bra, and I might not be able to check your panties, but I know it's going to be uncomfortable for you to be walking around in those clunky shoes without socks.  So, if you're not wearing socks, I'll assume you've done as I've asked.  If you have, then I'll give you further instructions tomorrow.  Go home and spend the rest of the evening playing with that slutty cunt of yours.  Cum as often as you want, but you are not to bathe.  I want the smell of  your cunt stink to follow you around tomorrow.  Oh, and let your family know you'll be late getting home.  Make up any excuse you want, but you probably won't be home until then."

 

My new novice slave nodded her head in understanding, then scampered out of the locker room, her head swimming.  I knew she expected to be fucked, probably several times, but that just wasn=t going to happen yet.  It would, but on my terms, not hers.  When and how were what I would need to decide.

 

I returned home to find my little slave Carolyn dutifully hand‑washing my soiled shorts.  This was one of her daily chores, and one which she found extremely distasteful.  You see, whenever she wasn’t immediately available to use her tongue, I would wipe my ass on my underwear after taking a shit, and then put a clean pair on.  I usually had a spare pair wherever I went, so would immediately give the soiled ones to Carolyn.  She would carry them around with her, usually in her book bag if we were at school, until she got home.  The only reason I did this was to degrade her even further, nothing more.  I could see she=d already washed out two pair; the third she had soaking in her mouth.  It could wait.  I motioned for her to stop what she was doing and remove the dirty briefs from her mouth.

 

ABedroom, slut.  Now,@ I commanded, looking down at her naked form on the bathroom floor.  She knew I meant my room, not hers.  When she arrived, crawling on hands and knees (she was never allowed to walk at home), I was sitting in the leather recliner I=d purchased with some of my first earnings from renting her out.  She knelt at my feet, knees spread wide, torso erect but head bowed submissively.

 

AYou may relax,@ I said, indicating that she could break position.  She swivelled around, sitting on her ass with her legs seductively folded under her.  AI need your help.@

 

AWhatever you wish, Master,@ she replied.

 

AThis may be too much for even you, but I want to give it a try,@ I said by way of introduction.  AI have a prospective slave.  I want your help in subjugating her.  You will help in her training, but you must remember your place as my property.  Do you think you can do that?@ I asked.

 

AI think so, Sir,@ Carolyn answered.  AExactly what do you mean?@

 

AFirst, you know that weird kid, Annie Brown?@

 

AHer?@ my sister asked in amazement.  AWhy would you even want someone like THAT as a slave?@

 

AFor the challenge, of course, though I don=t really think it=s going to take much.  Let=s just say I have a feeling about her, okay?@

 

AYes, Sir,@ Carolyn answered, shaking her head in disagreement.

 

AShe=s supposed to come to school tomorrow without panties or a bra.  No socks, either, but it=s easy enough for me to check that.  I need you to be in he locker room when she dresses out.  Tell me if she obeys.  Whether she does or not, you may end up with a new playtoy, but it would probably be more fun for both of us if she doesn=t.  Don=t let on, don=t make it obvious that you=re checking her out.  Just find out and tell me.@

 

AI understand, Sir,@ she replied.

 

AGood.  Now go back to your chores.  I might decide to use you later tonight, or maybe I=ll just jack off thinking of Annie=s tight cunt.@  It was good to let a slave know once in a while that you=d rather jack off than use her body.  Even at that young age, I knew the importance of keeping a slave in her place.

 

The following day, Annie met me as scheduled the following afternoon, right after the bell sounded.  As she approached, I slapped her across the side of the face with my hand, knocking her to the ground.

 

AYou disobeyed, Annie.  I know for a fact that you were wearing both panties and a bra when you went to gym class.@  I glowered at the girl who trembled at my feet, rubbing the red mark on her cheek.  The way she was laying, I could see she wasn=t wearing any  panties now, but all that meant was that she had attempted to deceive me.

 

AI...I just couldn=t...@ she sobbed, tears running down her cheeks.

 

ALet me guess, bitch,@ I growled.  AYou couldn=t take the chance of embarrassing yourself by having someone in your gym class notice you weren=t wearing underwear, is that it?@

 

AYes, Sir,@ she blubbered.

 

AYou know, you really are stupid, aren=t you?@ I asked.  ASay it.  Say AI=m a stupid cunt.@

 

AI...I=m a stupid...cu...I=m a stupid cunt,@ she barely whispered.

 

ALouder,@ I commanded.

 

AI=m a stupid cunt,@ she recited.

 

AAgain.  Louder.  As loud as you can,@ I commanded.

 

AI=m a stupid cunt!!!@ she yelled at the top of her lungs.

 

AAnd what do you think happens to disobedient, stupid cunts, Annie?@

 

AUh...I don=t know, Sir,@ she replied.

 

AThey get punished, Annie, severely punished.  But since I haven=t agreed to train you yet, you get choices.  One, we can call this off right now.  Over.  Finished.  You get out of my life and I get out of yours, period.  Or, you agree to punishment and promise to obey everything I say, regardless of your own fears or desires, and we continue your training.@

 

AUh...what kind of punishment, you mean like a spanking or something?@

 

AMore like >or something,= Annie.  This was your first disobedience, but I need to give you something to remember.  I won=t tell you what your punishment is just yet, but rest assured it will be humiliating, painful and degrading.  You have exactly five seconds to make up your mind.  Four...three...two...@ I said, looking at my wristwatch.

 

AI accept your punishment, Sir,@ she said, before I could count to one.

 

AYou=re sure?  There=s no turning back, not even if you wanted to, once the punishment begins.  Even if you beg me to stop, I won=t, and by the time it=s over, it=ll be too late,@ I warned.  I could see the wheels turning in her brain.  She was a smart kid, but had no idea what I had in mind.

 

AI=m sure,@ she announced with conviction.

 

AFrom now until I say otherwise, you are not to speak without my explicit permission.  You may not request permission to speak nor make any signal that you wish to speak.  Is that understood?@

 

She nodded her head.  Like I said, smart girl.

 

AStrip,@ I commanded, sitting down in a chair and crossing my legs to watch the show. 

 

She hesitated only momentarily before trying to do some sort of strip tease.  I shook my head with displeasure.

 

AJust get the clothes off, bitch,@ I commanded.  AI=m not interested in your idiotic attempts at a show.  Just get naked.@

 

Quickly shedding what she had on, I had her stand with her hands clasped on top of her head and her legs spread.  I walked slowly around her, inspecting her body, occasionally making a crude or degrading comment about the size of her tits, the massive tangle of hair covering her pussy, and the size of her ass.  I poked and prodded, tweaked and pinched, but she never did break position.  Perhaps she did have some potential after all...but that wasn=t something I was going to tell her.  As far as she was concerned, I was disgusted with her appearance and wouldn=t let my worst enemy fuck her.  Returning to my seat, I reached down and tossed a small gym bag in her direction. 

 

APut that on,@ I ordered.

 

She opened the bag and pulled out what she found inside.  A pair of red five inch pumps, a red satin mini dress that Carolyn sometimes wore during her period, and a red patent leather collar with a matching leash.  Her face was almost as crimson as the skimpy clothing I was providing her when finally got it all on.  Teetering precariously on the pumps ‑ she=d apparently never worn heels at all before, let alone something this high ‑ the bottom of the dress barely covered her ass cheeks, and the thin material meant any breeze at all would result in her charms being displayed for all to see.  I made her put the collar on last, bringing the leash to me in her teeth and kneeling in front of me so I could snap it on.

 

AAre you scared, Annie?@ I asked, standing up.

 

AYes, Sir,@ she replied timidly, her voice breaking.

 

AJust obey, Annie.  You have no other responsibility in the world except to be obedient.  Don=t worry about what others think, or how you look.  The only thing you need to know is that it=s important to please me, and it pleases me for you to be obedient, no matter what.   Your only thoughts should be of obedience,@ I said soothingly.  AThis isn=t going to be easy for you, nor will you find it pleasant.  Remember that this is punishment, but once the punishment is over, it=s over.@

 

AYes, Sir,@ she answered, taking a deep breath as I led her out of the locker room.

 

AOne step to my left and two steps behind,@ I told her, ALike a bitch at the heel.@  I took off at a moderate pace, giving her a moment to get used to the unfamiliar shoes.

 

It was late fall, nearing winter, but a typically moderate California afternoon.  This side of the building was fairly deserted, just a group playing soccer on the far field.  My car was parked a few yards from the door, so there really wasn=t much risk of Annie being exposed ‑ yet.  She sighed in relief as I opened the car door for her and let her in.

 

AYou need to learn to trust me, little one,@ I said comfortingly.  AI will stretch your boundaries, but not break them.@

 

AYes, Sir.  Thank you, Sir,@ she said, her breath heaving.

 

APut this on,@ I said, handing her a black sleeping mask.  AYou need to learn to not depend so much on your eyesight.  Concentrate on your other senses.  Touch, sound, smell.@

 

Our destination was nearby, but I intentionally made several unnecessary turns, stopping and backing up at times, just to disorient her.  I finally stopped behind a small strip mall, just a block from where we started, across the street from the school.  We were fairly well hidden in the alley when I helped her out of the car and guided her into the back door of the beauty salon.  There was a private room in the rear of the salon, and we were expected. I slipped her dress off, then strapped her down in the specially designed chair.  Once her arms were secure, I extended and spread the two leg supports, strapping her at the ankles and knees.  She was now totally helpless and fully exposed to anyone who happened in.

 

Without a word, the beautician went to work.  First with clippers, shearing her vaginal bush down to a stubble.  Annie, as hard as she tried not to, was getting worked up by the vibration of the shears against her mound.  She clenched her lower lip between her teeth in a useless attempt to ignore the sensations, but it was a lost cause from the start.  Lori, the stylist, had to stop twice to wipe the moisture from between Annie=s splayed thighs, but never did let Annie cum.  My novice slave sighed when the warm wax was buttered on her nearly denuded crotch, then began to squirm as it cooled uncomfortably.  Finally, it was time.

 

AYou may cum,@ I whispered into her ear, grabbing both her nipples and twisting cruelly just as Lori ripped the sheet of wax from Annie=s cunt.  A loud, animal‑like shriek erupted from her throat as her body shuddered in throes of pain‑filled pleasure.  It was the first of many such pain‑induced orgasms my new slave would experience.

 

The spasms went on for several minutes after Lori and I let go, finally subsiding into short, panting breaths.  I allowed her a few moments to regain her senses.

 

AThank the beautician, Annie.@

 

AThank you...Miss?@ she said, inquiringly.

 

AThat=s correct, Annie.  It was a young lady, perhaps someone you know.  But what are you thanking her for?  Be specific,@ I encouraged.

 

AThank you, Miss, for waxing my...my vagina.@

 

ANot quite, Annie.  Only nice girls have vaginas.  You=re just a slut, a slave. What do slave sluts have?@

 

AUh...pussies, Sir?@

 

ATry again, Annie,@ I said calmly but impatiently, as though speaking to a young child.

 

ACunts, Sir?@

 

AThat=s right, Annie.  You are a slut, and sluts have cunts, gashes and fuck holes.  So thank the young lady.  We need to get going.@

 

AUh...thank you, Miss, for waxing my cunt,@ she responded, her face once again turning crimson.

 

Lori nodded, knowing that if she spoke, Annie might recognize her voice.  They=d been classmates the previous year.  With that, I released Annie=s bonds and helped her to her feet.  Helping her back into her somewhat mussed dress, I once again led her, teetering, out to the car.

 

AYou did well in there, little one,@ I complimented.  ATwo more stops to go.@

 

AThank you, Sir,@ she replied.  AMay I ask what next?@

 

AYou may ask, but I won=t answer,@ I teased.  AThis isn=t so much punishment as a test of your will, you desire to serve.  Just trust me.@

 

AYes, Master,@ she responded, settling back in the seat, still unable to see.

 

Our next destination was across town.  I would have gone there first, but it was necessary that Annie=s cunt be bare for our next two stops.  This time, I didn=t need to disorient Annie with unneeded twists and turns.  She was too preoccupied with other things, as I had her spread her legs and directed the heater vent directly at the exposed folds of her bare sex.

 

We arrived after a half hour of rush hour city traffic.  This part of town was far enough away from where Annie and anyone who knew her would be that I wasn=t worried about anyone seeing her.  Besides, women ‑ or men, for that matter ‑ being led on leashes weren=t all that uncommon here.  It wasn=t exactly a high class neighborhood, if you get my gist.  This time, I wanted her to see exactly what was going to happen, so once we entered, I took the mask off.

 

Annie grimaced, the harshly bright lighting hurting her eyes after over two hours in total darkness.  When her eyesight finally returned, she gasped at what she saw.  It wasn=t just the pot‑bellied, biker‑trash looking bearded man leering at her that caused this, but the display of artwork covering the walls.  Photographs of human bodies, covered with tattoos.  Tattoos of outlandishly dimensioned women with obscenely oversized breasts, of chains around ankles and necks.  Nipples permanently tinted bright, almost florescent red.  Tattoos in places Annie never imagined they could be.

 

AYes, sir,@ the sleazy‑looking proprietor said.  AMay I interest you in something for your slave?@  Annie once again turned bright red.

 

AI think so,@ I replied, handing him a folded sheet of paper from my pocket.

 

ALet=s go in the back,@ he said, motioning for us to follow, as he looked at the sketch I=d provided.  AYes, I think this will work, but I need to see the product to know for sure.@

 

ATake your dress off,@ I commanded Annie.  ANOW!@ I said, rasing my open hand to emphasis my expectation of immediate obedience.  I knew she=d never been naked in front of a stranger before, but it was time she learned.  It wouldn=t be long before she=d be happy to expose herself to such a small audience. Shaking uncontrollably, she slipped the straps of the skimpy dress off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

 

AUp on the table, sweat meat,@ the tattoo artist said, patting his hand on the unpadded steel table, remarkably similar to a physician=s exam bed.  I smiled as he grabbed her wrists and attached them to a leather strap at the top of the table, then pulled out ankle stirrups.  Now I was sure it was a surplus ob‑gyn exam table.

 

ARight across here?@ he asked, tracing his hand in an arc just above the top of Annie=s slit.  I nodded.  ABe just a sec while I get my stuff ready.  Here,@ he said, handing me a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a wad of cotton, AWipe her down.  An infection would be a real bitch.@

 

Annie shuddered when the cold liquid hit her skin.  It was still tender and slightly inflamed from the waxing, less than an hour old.  I wiped gently, making sure some of the astringent dripped down her slit, causing her to squirm and squeal softly at the burning sensation.

 

AThis is your very last chance,@ I told her quietly.  The hair will grow back, but what happens next will be with you always.  Even if you decide to quit, you=ll be marked forever.  I need your answer now, Annie.@

 

APlease mark me, Sir,@ she begged, tears ‑ not of pain, but of desire ‑ filling her eyes. 

 

AThis is going to hurt.  Your training has yet to really begin, and I don=t know your pain threshold yet.  I need to gag you,@ I told her.

 

AI understand, Sir,@ she answered.

 

What she wasn=t ready for, though, was the gag itself.  From my back pocket I pulled out the panties she=d been wearing the day before.

 

AMy sister used these to clean herself after she orgasmed...twice,@ I told her.  "They should be nice and tasty.  Open your mouth.@

 

As distasteful as it was, Annie closed her eyes and opened her mouth widely, gagging only slightly as I filled her mouth with the damp cotton briefs.   A short strip of duct tape ‑ conveniently provided by the proprietor ‑ held them in place so he could begin his work. 

 

Because of the location of the tattoo, additional restraints had to be applied to Annie=s body.  In addition to her ankles and wrists, a wide belt was placed across her abdomen, and another across each of her thighs to ensure she stayed absolutely motionless.  Then I re‑covered her eyes with the blindfold.  The tattoo artist began his work, slowly working the electric tool across Annie=s abdomen, just above the top of her slit.  The pain elicited winces and tears but nothing more from the bound slave.  Finally, after a full 90 minutes, he was through.  I=d thought about this for some time, and decided that I=d keep the nature of the tattoo secret from her for now.

 

She was covered in perspiration, both from the exertion of being tattooed as well as the necessity of the bright, hot lights to ensure the work was done properly.  I wiped her down with a small hand towel, while the artist applied a large adhesive bandage to the wound.

 

AMake sure she keeps it covered with Vaseline for a week,@ he said as I handed him the hundred dollars for his time.  He handed half of it back.  AIt=s not often I see one as young and nice as her.  It was worth it.@

 

Our next stop was right next door, so I just led her down the sidewalk, one hand holding the leash, and the other guiding her by the elbow.  She didn=t seem surprised to find herself in a piercing parlor when the eye mask was finally removed.  She seemed resigned to it, actually.

 

AI=m going to give you another choice, Annie,@ I told her.  ANipples or nose?@

 

ANipples, Sir,@ she replied immediately.  I didn=t know at the time, but having her nose pierced, being led around by a chain like a cow, was a long fantasy of hers.  However, she knew she=d never get away with it.  Her mother would have her ass.  What she didn=t know was that her nose would eventually get pierced, as well as several other parts of her body.

 

AWell, then, let=s go pick out some jewelry!@ I announced gaily, leading her over to the display case.  ASomething like this,@ I think, pointing to a set of smallish gold rings, Abut we need to make sure they are the right size.  May I see those?@ I asked the young female clerk.

 

ACertainly, sir,@ she grinned, handing them to me.

 

ARaise your dress up so I can check the size against your nipples,@ I told Annie.  She had assumed I=d just have her pull a tit out of her dress, which would have been easier, but this was certainly more humiliating for her.  The clerk raised an eyebrow when she saw the abdominal bandage, but grinned when I showed her the sample artwork on the paper I still had.  I made Annie  hold her dress up over her head while I pinched and tugged at her nipple, getting it nice and erect before comparing it to the size of the ring.

 

AYes, this size is fine,@ I told the clerk.  ACan we do it right there,@ I asked, pointing to the first chair, where she=d be in full view of the waiting area and front window. 

 

ASure,@ the teenager shrugged.  AMight bring more business.  I=m on commission, you know.@

 

AWell, I=ll be sure to give you a big tip for this job, then,@ I grinned.

 

Annie sat down in the chair and lowered the top of her dress without being told, eliciting a warm smile and a pat on the head from me.  As the piercing gun touched her skin, towards the base of the nipple, she grimaced, letting out a tiny yelp as a hole was punched through the tender skin.  The first ring was locked in place, and the process was repeated.  Within five minutes, Annie was fully dressed and standing next to me, waiting while I paid the clerk.  I handed her a $40 tip.

 

AIf I could,@ the clerk said to me, Aseeing you lead this girl on the end of a leash, watching her obey you without question...it=s the most erotic thing I=ve ever seen.  Could I ask one more favor?@ she asked.  She whispered in my ear, and I nodded affirmatively.

 

Placing her hands behind Annie=s head, she pulled her face down to hers and gave her a long, wet, tongue‑laced kiss.  Once again, Annie=s face turned beet red.  She=d never imagined her first ever French kiss would be from a girl, probably no older than she! 

 

With that, I led her back outside to my car.  It was getting late, and slave‑in‑training though she was, I had to get her back home.  I dropped her off a half mile away, behind a darkened, abandoned strip mall, allowing her to change back into her street clothes in the light of my headlights.

 

ANo looking at the tattoo,@ I warned her.  AIf I even think you=ve peeked, I=ll take a bullwhip and flay the skin off your ass.@

 

AYes, sir,@ she answered meekly.

 

ANo fingering yourself tonight.  Instead, I want you to write your life story for me.  I want to know everything about you, your family, your likes and dislikes, everything.  Hand written, not on a typewriter, and legible.  Printing or cursive is up to you, but I don=t want to have to try to figure out what you=ve written.  At least twenty pages,@ I ordered, Athen you can go to sleep.  Tomorrow, you=d better not have underwear on when you get to school.@

 

AI understand, sir,@ she replied, bowing her head submissively and waiting for me to drive off before she started walking home.

 

I intercepted Annie before she arrived at school the next morning, picking her up just a block from her home.  I held my hand out impatiently, and she handed me a thick sheaf of paper covered with typewritten lines.

 

ALooks like you didn=t get much sleep,@ I commented.

 

AI was up until four this morning working on it, sir,@ she answered.  AI told my mother it was a term paper that was due today.@   Her fatigue was clearly visible, and made even more so by her usual lack of any makeup. She looked haggard.

 

AStrip,@ I suddenly commanded.  She stared at me for a moment, then swung her head around, checking her surroundings.  She wasn=t aware that I=d already checked, and there was nobody within vision range.  We were between two buildings, in an alley behind her apartment complex.  She pulled the simple cotton dress over her head, revealing that she=d obeyed my instructions.  She was naked, and the bandage appeared to have not been tampered with.

 

ATrust me,@ I smiled softly.  AI wouldn=t put you at any real risk.  But you hesitated, so you get punished.  Get in the car,@ I ordered.

 

Once she was in, I had her toss her dress in the back seat, then remove the clunky shoes she always seemed to wear.  I drove us to school, parking between the shop buildings.  It was still early, over an hour until school started, and the place was deserted.

 

AGet out,@ I ordered, leading her, naked,  into the wood shop building.  As a student assistant, I=d been given the combination to the storage room, and from there, could access the main part of the building.  I motioned her over to a work bench.

 

ABend over it,@ I commanded, tying her wrists and ankles to the table legs as she laid over it.  Then, taking a thin but sturdy dowel, I swished it through the air a few times, hearing the wind as I did.  It would do.

 

ABecause you did finally obey me,@ I explained, Aand because you=re still learning, I=m going to be easy on you.  Fifty strokes.  Twenty five on your ass, then I turn you over. Ten on your belly, ten on your tits, and five right on your cunt.  It might sound harsh, but next time you hesitate to obey, it=ll be two hundred.@

 

AYes, sir,@ she sobbed, and I brought the first stroke across the globe of her pale ass, causing a bright red welt to appear.  I didn=t make her count this time...that would come later.  For now, I wanted her to concentrate on the pain, and later ‑ during gym class ‑ the humiliation of having all the other girls see the stripes on her body, evidence that she=d been punished by someone, for something.  After letting her get dressed again, I sent her on her way.  I told my sister to make sure Annie undressed and showered with the rest of the girls each day for the rest of the week, wanting to ensure her humiliation was complete.  She did, and it was. 

 

Except for a few minutes each morning before school, I didn=t bother myself with Annie at all for the rest of the week.  Just enough time to make sure she was naked under dress, and to give her instructions for the following day. The instructions were simple enough, and always included masturbating herself to sleep.  One night I had her collect all her panties and bras and bring them to me in a trash bag the next morning.  The next day, I had her wear small, 1/4 ounce fishing weights from her nipple rings.  Friday morning, I told her that I=d be coming over to visit. 

 

I wanted to speak with her mother. 

 

CONFESSIONS OF A SLAVER

PART IV

 

I finally met Annie=s mother that Friday evening.  I=d digested Annie=s biography, and filled in a few blanks by asking her a number of pointed questions.  I had her tell her mother I=d be bringing over steaks, so if she could arrange for baked potatoes and a salad, we could all sit and talk over dinner.  I=d dressed well for the occasion, wearing dress slacks with an open-collar shirt and sports coat.  I had spent a considerable amount of time deciding how I was going to approach this.

 

AGood evening, Mrs. Brown,@ I said, entering the apartment when she answered the door.  Annie=s mother was in her mid‑30's, having given birth to her only child when she was only 16 herself...just about the age Annie was now.  She looked a bit frumpy in her old, unfashionable clothes, but I immediately saw the potential.  Some makeup, a short skirt and some heels...and especially, a collar...and she=d be perfect.  Old, maybe, but that just meant experienced and not so ashamed of her own sexuality.  The only question now was whether she was going to be a willing or unwilling participant in my plan.

 

She ushered me in, and I handed her the covered container of steaks.  I wasn=t sure how to proceed from here; quickly reviewing my options I selected the subtle approach.

 

AI thought we could get to know each other first, and then after dinner discuss Annie, if that=s all right.@

 

ACertainly,@ she answered graciously.  AWould you like to watch television while I get dinner ready?  Perhaps a Coke or something?@

 

ACoke would be fine, thank you,@ I replied, taking a spot on the couch.

 

I hadn=t seen Annie so far, but when she did come downstairs a few minutes later, she cringed at my disapproving scowl.  Disregarding her dress code, she was wearing jeans, tennis shoes and a frumpy sweat shirt.

 

"I see you've decided to disregard your dress code,' I chastised.  'Go back upstairs and change.  A dress, or a skirt and blouse.  Nothing else.  Oh, and put some makeup on; you look like shit without it."

 

"But mama...." she started.

 

"I'll take care of mama," I told her.  "You just go do what you're told, slave.  We'll discuss your attitude and disobedience later tonight.  Perhaps you should invite mama to witness your punishment?"

 

"No, sir...I mean...yes, sir, I'll go get changed, and no, sir, I don't think asking mama to watch would be a good idea, sir," she replied, then ran back up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

 

It took her almost fifteen minutes to get back downstairs, and although her face wasn't quite as made up as I would have liked, it was okay.  I told her to go heavier on the mascara next time, and to use a bolder red lipstick from now on.  Just as she lifted her yellow sun dress up to reveal her nakedness under it, her mother called that dinner was ready.

 

We ate in near silence, both women stealing nervous glances at me.  When I was finished, I helped myself to the last of the salad.  Both Annie and Rachael sat demurely, waiting for me to finish.  I finally wiped my mouth with my napkin, crumpling it up and depositing it in on my plate, indicating I was done.

 

"Take care of our plates, Annie, then go upstairs and stay in your room until I call for you. Your mother and I have a few things to discuss,@ I ordered.  My novice slave got up without a word, cleared the place setting from in front of me, and padded off while her mother simply sat wordlessly, staring.

 

"What was that all about?" Rachael asked. 

 

"What did Annie tell you about me? I asked, by way of an answer.

 

"That you're tutoring her.  Some sort of service program through the school, I think she said.  I hope so, anyway, because I can't afford to pay you."

 

"I guess that's as good an explanation as any.  Yes, I am part of a school tutoring program, but that's not what I'm doing with Annie."

 

"So you're not her tutor?" she asked, even more puzzled now.

 

"I guess you could say I'm more of a trainer, Rachael.  You don't mind if I call you Rachael, do you?  What I'm training her for has nothing to do with school, though."

 

"Not school?  Then what?"

 

"I'm training your daughter to take her rightful place in life, Rachael," I said reassuringly, leaning back slightly.  If she was going to explode, it would happen now.

 

"And exactly what do you think is her 'rightful place?' 

 

"Annie's rightful place in life is kneeling naked at the feet of her Master,' I replied offhandedly.  "Annie's future is as a slave.  Maybe a sex slave, or maybe something else ‑ working in a kitchen, or maybe being a wet nurse ‑ but her fate is to be a slave."

 

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU FUCKING PERVERT!" Rachael responded, standing up suddenly and grabbing her chair as if to use it as a weapon.

 

"Before you get violent, I think you should know that Annie came to me about this," I said, standing up myself, just in case I needed to make a quick exit.  "In fact, I told her I wasn't interested, but she kept insisting."

 

"Bullshit," the irate mother responded vehemently, but apparently calming down somewhat.

 

"No, it's true.  You can ask Annie herself, if you want.  If she told you herself that she wants to be a slave, would you believe her?"

 

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

 

"Annie!  Get your ass down here right now!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.  The sound of her feet running across the floor above us was unmistakable.  In a moment, she was standing in the doorway.

 

"Yes?" she asked, trying to catch her breath.

 

"Tell your mother about us.  The truth, Annie," I commanded.

 

"I...uh...I...he...uh...," she stammered, her face turning white as a sheet.

 

"Robert tells me he's training you to be his slave, and that you asked him to.  Is this true, Annie?" her mother asked pointedly.

 

"Um...yes, mama," she answered quietly, her pale face suddenly turning bright red.

 

"Then tell me," she insisted.  "Tell me so there's no doubt in my mind.'

 

"Uh...he's training me to be his slave.  I asked him to, but he said no at first.  Then he said yes, mama.  I can't understand it, but it just feels right."

 

"I want to talk to him alone now.   Go back to your room," she ordered her daughter.  Annie glanced at me for confirmation.  In for a penny, in for a pound, I figured.

 

"Not yet, Annie.  Just to make sure there's no misunderstanding, take your dress off.  Right now,@ I emphasized when she didn't immediately respond.  AJust drop it on the floor.@

 

"Oh, my God!" Rachael reacted when her daughter dropped her dress on the floor, revealing not only her nakedness underneath, but her decorations ‑ the shaved pussy, the nipple rings, the red welts from where I'd beaten her.  "When did this happen?" she asked.

 

"Uh...the second day, mama, when he said he would train me to be a slave."

 

"What's the bandage?" she asked next.

 

"I suppose now is as good a time as any,' I said, grabbing one corner and ripping it off, eliciting a sharp squeal from my slave.

 

"Oh, my God..." Rachael repeated, seeing the words permanently written on her daughter's belly.  Annie had her eyes closed, tears forming in the corners.

 

"Read it to her, Rachael," I said.  "She's never see it before."

 

"It says, "slave cunt," she read.  "That's what she is now, isn't it?  A slave cunt?"

 

"Not quite, but she will be eventually, once she's trained," I answered.  "Go to your room now, Annie.  There's no need to get dressed.  As a matter of fact, you're no longer permitted to wear clothes when you're at home."

 

"Yes, sir," she answered, blushing even more deeply now, as she exited the kitchen.

 

"I guess we have a lot to talk about," Mrs. Brown stated.  "Coffee?"

 

"Please," I replied.  It was the first time I'd said please since my arrival.  I leaned forward,  my elbows on the table, hands cupping the mug she handed me.

 

"Mrs, Brown, Annie is one of the most natural submissives I've ever met," I explained.  "Let's face it, she's not the brightest bulb there is, and she depends on others to make decisions for her.  Without this, she's probably going to end up in some minimum‑wage job, having people take advantage of her.  Hell, she could end up whoring for some pimp, the way she is," I said bluntly.  "This way, she'll know her position in life, and won't need to worry about anything.  All she'll need to do is obey."

 

"You sound like you know a lot about this," she said.

 

"I guess I know a bit, but certainly not all there is," I replied seriously. 

 

"So you've...what should I say...owned?...you've owned slaves before?"

 

"Just one," I answered flatly.  "She'll soon be going off to college, though."

 

"You're sending a slave to college?" she asked incredulously.  "If she's going to spend her life spreading her legs for you, why would you bother?"

 

"Two reasons, actually," I answered.  "One, she's smart.  I think an education will do her good.  She'll be of more value to whoever her owner is if she can do more than ‑ as you put it ‑ spread her legs.  Second," I said, "she's my sister."

 

"WHAT!  Your own sister?  You made your own sister your slave?"

 

"Yes, she=s my slave - me and my dad=s, actually.  ," I answered.  AAnd before you ask, yes, I=ve fucked her.  So has dad.  We don=t do that much anymore, only when she=s done something worthy of a reward like that.  Mostly, she=s a whore.  She fucks other people for money, but she doesn=t get to keep any of it.  She gives it all to me.  She's been fucked by of the students, and quite a few of the teachers, as a matter of fact.  She has a standing Tuesday lunch date with the principal, too, but he gets it for free."

 

"I don't fucking believe this," she said, holding her hands to her head and shaking it.  "You and your father fuck your sister, you whore her to the entire school, and you're turning my daughter into a slut."

 

"No, Rachael," I said softly.  "Annie's not a slut, and I won't be turning her into one.  If she's going to be a slut, it will have to come from within.  Just like her submissiveness, it comes from somewhere inside.  She wants to be a slave, though, and I'm going to help her with that."

 

"I've lost her," Mrs. Brown said, a resigned note in her voice.  "She's gone."  She was sobbing softly now.  AEverything I worked for, everything I hoped for her...@

 

AI wouldn=t think of it that way, Mrs. Brown,@ I said softly, reaching across the table to take her hand in mine.  She recoiled at my touch, so I didn=t press the issue.  AYou=ll never have to worry about her.  Someone will take care of her for the rest of her life, and she=ll never be a burden.  Unless she=s disobedient, she=ll be well taken care of, fed well, always have a safe place to live, and she=ll be protected always.@

 

AI still don=t understand this,@ she sobbed.  AI think I need to go out for a bit.@

 

AI understand,@ I replied.  AWould you rather I leave, so you and Annie can talk?@

 

ANo, I don=t think so,@ she said, standing up.  AI really need to be alone right now.  I=m going for a walk. I=m not sure when I=ll be back.@

 

I watched her get up and walk out the door, almost as though she were in a daze...which she probably was.  As soon as she left, I called for my slave to come downstairs.

 

AGo clean the kitchen,@ I told her, Aand when you=re done with that, kneel in the corner and wait for me.@

 

AYes, Sir,@ my slave answered.

 

I went upstairs and took a look around.  Entering Annie=s bedroom, I carefully went though all her belongings, piling those I was allowing her to keep on her bed and tossing the rest haphazardly on the floor.  Jeans, pants, clunky shoes, all went on the floor.  Likewise the stupid stuffed animals, cutsie photographs and the idiotic posters of her childhood movie idols.  Going through her drawers, I tossed her socks and slips; she=d already brought me all her panties and bras, so she didn=t have any of those.  By the time I was through, she had a dress, two skirts and four blouses left.  I made a mental note to get her some new clothing; she=d need stockings, and maybe some sexy heels to go with the leather skirt and vest outfit I=d decided to get for her.

 

After I was through in Annie=s room, I checked out Rachael=s.  Carefully this time, because I didn=t want her to know I=d been there, I went through the mother=s belongings.  Pretty typical for a welfare-class working woman; nothing special, no fashionable clothing at all.  White cotton undies and bras, work clothes and a couple of pair of sweats for work around the house.  Just two dresses - a pastel sun dress, and what looked to be her wedding gown, carefully preserved in a box on the closet shelf.  It was behind that box that I hit pay dirt.

 

I don=t know what it was, but I had a feeling that Annie=s submissive tendencies weren=t just random, that they were somehow instinct or genetics.  The small packet of photos I found behind the wedding gown told the story.  Old black-and-whites of a young woman - obviously Rachael - in various stages of undress.  Several showed her bound and gagged, and in one, she was kneeling with her hands tied behind her back, sucking on a big, black cock.  Others showed her wearing nothing but a collar, or laying on a bare mattress on the floor, her collar chained to a pipe.  There was even a photo of her reaching under a dog=s belly, grasping his cock - oh, this was one kinky bitch for her time!  My dick immediately got rock hard, thinking of Annie=s mother perhaps having willingly fucked a dog.  That=s when I decided, fuck it, and threw caution to the wind.

 

I didn=t give a shit about being secretive now, and started rummaging through Rachael=s belongings just as I had Annie=s.  The only difference was that I left the memories of what would soon be her previous life - the family photos, jewelry and such - alone and concentrated on her clothing.  She dressed like a frump, and the only thing worth salvaging was the sun dress - and even it needed some modification.  I had just finished up when I heard the front door open.  I stuck the snapshots in my back pocket and went downstairs to find Rachael slumped in the overstuffed living room chair.  I walked past her to the kitchen, where Annie was on her hands and knees, dutifully scrubbing the floor.  I got her attention with a hard slap on her bare ass.

 

AYou have garbage bags?@ I asked.

 

AYes, Sir, under the sink,@ she answered.

 

AFine.  Take the whole box of them upstairs.  You=ll find two piles of stuff in your room.  The things on the floor go into the trash, the stuff on the bed you may keep.  When you=re done in your room, you=ll find the same situation in your mother=s.@

 

She looked up at me in wide-eyed shock before slowly nodding her head.  I followed her out of the kitchen, smiling at the sight of the bright red hand print I=d left on her ass.  Then I sat down on the couch to talk to the mother.

 

AHow was your walk?@ I asked, beginning with the small talk.

 

AOkay,@ she responded listlessly.  Well, if she was going to be like that, then I was going to take things into my own hands.  I pulled the packet of photos out of my pocket and held one up for her to see.

 

ARecognize it?@ I asked, a slight grin on my face.

 

AYou bastard!@ she said quietly.  AYou have no business going through my things!@

 

AI guess she gets it from you, huh?@ I commented, flashing snapshot after snapshot in front of her eyes.  AI think this one is particularly cute,@ I said, holding up the one of her jerking the dog off.  ADid you fuck him, or just use your mouth?@

 

She just sat there, staring at nothing.

 

AYou liked it, didn=t you?  You liked being used like that.  Letting men use your body for their amusement.  It was the only time you felt worth anything, wasn=t it?@

 

She hesitated for a moment before responding.  AYes,@ she said in a whisper, her face turning bright red.

 

AI=m going to take you back to that feeling.  I=m going to claim you as mine, to own you.  You want that, don=t you?  That way you can feel like you have some value, but at the same time look over your daughter.  You want that, don=t you?@ I repeated.  AYou want to be my slave.@

 

AYes,@ she said, barely audible.

 

AGo upstairs into the bathroom and strip.  Throw every piece of clothing you have on into the trash.  Ask Annie for her makeup, and then do your face.  When you come back down, I want you to be smiling and look pretty for me.  Oh, and make sure you shave,@ I said, pointing at her crotch.

 

AYes, Master,@ she mumbled, getting to her feet.

 

It took the better part of an hour, but I eventually had two naked females, a woman and a girl, kneeling in front of me.   I looked them over carefully before speaking.

 

ARachael, you are my slave,@ I said seriously.  ASo are you, Annie, but you are to obey your mother as you would me.  She has full rights over you, and disobedience of her is no different than disobedience of me.  Rachael, I expect you to help me train Annie to be the perfect slave.  The only things you cannot do is apply any punishment or make her fuck anyone I haven=t previously approved.  Is that clear?@

 

AYes, Master,@ the older one responded in a clear voice.

 

AYes, Sir,@ intoned the younger one, less confidently.

 

AOn Monday morning, Rachael, I want you to take Annie out of school.  Tell them whatever you want, that you=re home-schooling her, you=re moving, or whatever.  She has no further use for formal education.  Understand?@

 

AYes, Master,@ she answered.

 

AAs for your job, you=ll keep it.  As a matter of fact, I want you to work as many hours as you can, all the overtime you can get.  If you can=t get at least 20 hours overtime a week, find a second job.  Something menial, maybe with a janitorial company or something like that,@ I commented, half speaking to myself.  AFind a job for Annie, too.  At least full time.  Maybe as a hotel maid.  I think she=d look good in a maid=s outfit, and she=s going to need the practice at keeping her Owner=s home clean anyway.@  Annie blushed at my words, but both slaves remained silent, the mother simply nodding her assent.

 

AYou=ll be turning over your paychecks to me,@ I notified them.  AI=ll take care of the rent and provide a stipend for food, at least until I decide to move you into more appropriate accommodations.@  This was something Rachael hadn=t expected, and her eyes widened.  AYou didn=t think I=d want to keep coming all the way across town for a quick fuck, did you?@ I said offhandedly.  AFor now, though, you live here.  Rachael, move your things into Annie=s room.  You can share it.  I=ll need a place of my own if I decide to stay over.@

 

AYes, Master,@ she replied.  I could tell things were moving too quickly for her, but I needed to keep her off-balance.

 

ANow, when you go to move your things, you=ll undoubtedly notice most of them are already gone.  I=ve taken the liberty of having Annie dispose of most of your clothing, for example.  You won=t need it in the house anyway, and I=ll buy what I want you to wear.  I=ll need your sizes, by the way,@ I said as an afterthought.  AComplete measurements.  Have them for me in the morning.@

 

AYes, Master,@ the mother answered.

 

AGood, I=ll see you then,@ I said, getting up to leave.  I knew Rachael figured I=d be fucking her before I went home, but that wasn=t going to happen.  She was actually a little too old for my taste - I enjoyed humiliating older women, but not fucking them - but I figured dad might enjoy her.  My only real concern was whether the two women would even be there the following morning.  After some time to think about it all, they might simply disappear.  Well, no great loss if they did, I thought.  Either Rachael wanted this or she didn=t, and as for Annie, well, she=d probably stay or go as her mother did, but at least she would carry the markings of our dalliance for the rest of her life - or until she could make enough money whoring herself out to afford laser removal of the tattoo.

 

I was actually somewhat surprised to find them both waiting for me, kneeling just inside their unlocked door when I arrived the following morning.  On the carpet in front of each girl was a simple leather dog collar.  Rachael=s seemed to be well-used; Annie=s looked brand new.  My dick immediately got hard, even though it had just received a workout between my sister=s luscious cunt lips only a quarter hour before.

 

AWhat=s this?@ I asked, grinning.

 

AMaster, when my husband and I played our games and he wanted me to pretend to be his slave girl, he would put this collar on me.  I felt it was appropriate to bring it out, and took the liberty of purchasing one for your other slave, Master,@ Rachael replied, keeping her eyes lowered as she spoke.

 

AYou want me to put them on you, is that it?@ I queried.

 

AYes, Master,@ the two females replied in unison.

 

ARachael, look at me,@ I said, gently placing my fingers under her chin and tilting her head.  AIf I put these collars on, they don=t come off unless I take them off.  You might end up wearing yours when you go to tell the school that your daughter is leaving.  You could end up wearing it to work, if I=m not here to take it off.@

 

AMaster, I don=t care what people think.  I=d be proud to announce to the world the fact that I=m your property,@ she said, a wide smile on her face making me actually believe that.

 

ANo,@ I said after thinking about it for a moment, AI don=t think I want you in a collar...at least not a collar someone else gave you.  Why don=t we try this one on?@ I said, pulling a small box from the bag I carried.  It contained a delicate gold choker with a small tag bearing my initials.  She beamed when I fastened it around her neck.  I was just pleased that I=d guessed the size right; it fit snugly, but not overly so.

 

ADon=t worry, I haven=t forgotten you,@ I said to the other girl.  Unlike her mother=s, Annie=s collar was far from delicate or subtle.  A wide, pink leather collar encrusted with faux diamonds spelling out the words, ASLAVE WHORE.@  Before fastening it around her neck, I displayed the words to both women.

 

AIt means exactly what it says,@ I said as I fastened it around her neck, locking it in place with a small padlock.  AI decided last night that Annie=s future will be as a whore.  Her first customer will be here in two hours, as a matter of fact.  Do either of you have a problem with that?@  Both of them looked up at me wide-eyed.

 

ANo, Master, A Rachael responded after a moment, resigned to her daughter=s fate.

 

AGood, because I told him Annie was already experienced.  It=s your job to get her that way.  Here, put this on,@ I commanded, tossing a strap-on dildo on the floor in front of Rachael=s kneeling form.  AYou have an hour and a half to teach your daughter all about sex, and I don=t expect her to have a virgin hole left when her first customer arrives.@

 

ABut, Master...@ she started.

 

ADo it, bitch!@ I growled.  She recoiled at seeing a side of me she=d never experienced before.  Of course, we=d only met barely 12 hours earlier.  She looked down at the dildo, then back up at me, pleading with her eyes.  ADo it,@ I reiterated.  She nodded resignedly and picked the phallus up.  It took her a moment to figure the straps out, but she finally got it attached, the nine inch latex dick bouncing lewdly.

 

ADoggy style,@ I said.  AFirst she sucks it, then she gets fucked like a bitch.@

 

AYes, Master,@ Rachael responded, shuffling on her knees in front of her daughter.  Annie was already on all fours, tears streaming out of her eyes as she opened her mouth and began feebly sucking her mother=s prosthetic cock.  I stepped up next to them, and grabbing Annie by the hair, simultaneously pulled her into her mother while I shoved my hand against Rachael=s ass, causing Annie=s eyes to bulge as she sputtered and gagged.  I held them there for a moment before releasing.

 

AYour customers will expect you do deep throat,@ I told her while she gulped down air.  I gave her two breaths before forcing the two girls together again.  I didn=t expect her to be able to deal with it, but felt I needed to reassert myself with both of them.  Rachael, after all, hadn=t seen the violent side of my psyche yet.

 

AThat=s enough,@ I finally said after the fifth or sixth iteration of the throat-fucking.  AGet back there and rip the bitch=s cherry,@ I told the mother.  She looked a me with sad eyes, but simply scooted around behind her daughter.  AGet that ass up!@ I commanded the crying girl.  ASpread those legs.  I want to see those cunt lips sucking at that cock!@  I was getting so turned on from this that I really wanted to take her myself, but I=d gotten extra from her first customer for letting him be the first to actually cum inside her.  I watched as the tip of the dildo worked its way into Annie=s swollen hole, the labia folding themselves around it.  Annie had very large, pronounced cunt lips; they got even large when she became excited, and I=d never seen her this aroused.

 

AOn the count of three, you can kiss your cherry goodbye, Annie,@ I said, stepping behind Rachael just in case the mother had any ideas of being gentle with this.  AOne...two....three!@ I yelled, shoving Rachael=s ass as hard as I could, slamming her forward with such force that Annie was knocked to her belly.  I pulled them back up so Annie was back on her knees, then told Rachael to continue fucking until Annie had an orgasm.  It didn=t take long before Annie let out a loud squeal and collapsed on the floor, covered in perspiration.  Soon thereafter, Rachael was displaying a dildo dripping with blood and cunt juice. 

 

AWhores clean their customers off afterwards,@ I said, moving Rachael to a position in front of Annie=s face.  AWith their mouths.@  I could see Annie trying desperately to keep the bile down as the wet, blood-streaked latex prick waggled in front of her, but she did her best to please me.  Looking up at me with a forced smile, she lowered her eyes and opened her mouth, taking her mother=s offering.  I could see the distaste on Rachael=s face, too, and decided that perhaps she needed to have a little more girl-on-girl action.  I had Annie alternately suck and lick the cock until it was clean, then advised her to slather it up some more because she had one more hole to be broken in.  Oh, I=ve never seen a girl work so hard at getting a cock wet before!  Of course, she wasn=t aware that I had planned on allowing her mother to apply some lubrication first.

 

I had Rachael scoot up behind Annie and eat her daughter=s ass out, too, getting it nice and wet first.  Although she hated the thought of licking there, she did her damndest to get as much spit as she could as deeply into her daughter=s rectum as she could. She was, after all, the girl=s mother and still had that maternal instinct.  She didn=t want her little girl hurt, and if that meant sacrificing herself, so be it.  Again, this was something I filed in the back of my mind, for potential use later.

 

ASeems wet enough,@ I finally said, shoving two fingers up the girls ass.  AStill, it is her first time.  Here, use this,@ I said, tossing Rachael a tube of lubricant.  ANot too much, though.  I want her to feel it.@

 

While Rachael was carefully applying the slippery gel to her dildo, I presented her daughter with my shit-covered fingers.  ALick,@ I commanded.  Again, I could see the hesitation in her eyes, immediately followed by the resignation that I was going to make her do it whether she wanted to or not.  Slowly, her tongue extended and tentatively touched my finger.  She recoiled, then shut her eyes, took a deep breath and wrapped her lips around my knuckles, sucking and licking as rapidly as she could.

 

AGood girl,@ I said when she was finished, drying my hands off on her hair.  AOkay, time to take that last cherry.  Any words of advice for your daughter, slave?@  She looked up and saw that I was serious.

 

AJust relax, baby.  It=ll hurt less that way.  If you bear down like you=re trying to shit, it might help some.@

 

AYes, mama, I=ll try, but please don=t hurt me,@ she sobbed.

 

AOh, it=s going to hurt,@ I guaranteed her, Abut if you do as your mama says, it=ll be a bit easier on you.  Get to it,@ I told the mother.

 

I watched as the older bitch carefully positioned the head of her strap-on at the now-inflamed and slightly opened rosebud of the younger=s asshole, then slowly eased her weight forward, causing it to slide in a millimeter at a time.  Annie groaned as the bulbous head disappeared, and I could see her thigh muscles tighten as the thick dildo began to slowly slide inside her. 

 

ATry to shit it out,@ I heard Rachael say, and I saw Annie grimace as she bore down, then let out a squeal as her mother took advantage of the loosening of the girl=s sphincter and shoved herself fully inside.  Annie looked up at me, tears streaming down her cheeks, trying to smile through the discomfort as her mother continued her assault.

 

I checked my watch and saw that almost five minutes had passed since the initial penetration; that meant over three minutes of hard, non-stop butt-fucking, and I figured that was enough for now.  I motioned for Rachael to stop.  She pulled out with a loud plopping sound and looked up at me expectantly.  I nodded, and she moved around to her daughter=s face.

 

AAss-to-mouth is another skill a whore is expected to master,@ I said.  The girl stared at me with a forlorn look on her face, but still clamped her mouth shut and shook her head.  AMake her,@ I told the mother, sitting down in a chair to watch.

 

ALick it, you whore!@ Rachael screamed, backhanding her daughter across the side of the face.  AClean that nasty shit off my cock!@  I watched intently as she took the girl=s head in her hands and forced her thumbs painfully into the jaw socket, forcing her mouth open.  AYou=re going to do it one way or the other, and it=s up to you how, you little cunt,@ she spat.  ANow open that fucking, cock-sucking mouth of yours and suck my dick!@

 

Annie was in hysterics now, unable to control her own body.  Her mouth flopped open, and her mother quickly crammed the plastic dick in as far as it would go.  The girl pulled back, dislodging it from her throat so she could breathe, but at the same time closed her lips over it.  The total look of abject disgust was evident on her face as she was forced to suck, lick and then swallow the shit smeared on the hard latex tool.  I noticed that she=d pissed herself, too; there was a yellow stain on the tan carpet directly under her cunt.  Probably happened when mommy fucked her throat, I thought almost absentmindedly.

 

ALet me see it,@ I commanded.  Rachael pulled out and showed me the dick.  I saw a little fleck of shit on the underside, right at the base of the head, and told her so.

 

AClean it,@ she told her daughter.  This time there was no display of defiance; she simply stuck out her tongue and lapped the bit of feces off.  I checked my watch again.

 

AOkay, it looks like you have a little over a half hour before your date gets here.  Go take a shower and make yourself pretty.  Your clothes will be laid out for you when you=re done,@ I said.  Still sobbing quietly after the abuses she=d just endured, she stood up and padded naked up the stairs.

 

I=d brought her clothes for the evening, actually some still serviceable hand-me-downs from my sister.  A little pink dress with a plunging neckline and a hem that would fall just barely below the cleft of her thighs, matching stockings and a pair of red platform heels.  I knew Annie wasn=t ready for spiked heels yet, but the platforms still raised her heel a good four inches above her toes.  She=d have problems walking in them, but I didn=t expect she=d be doing much of that, except maybe to the car and back.  I had her mother help get her ready, making sure the makeup was just slutty enough to match her attire, while still keeping a bit of the innocence visible.  When they were done, I had Rachael put on her sole remaining dress, and we waited downstairs for Annie=s date to arrive.

 

Annie fidgeted the entire time we were waiting, until the doorbell finally rang.  I Rachael to answer it and invite her daughter=s gentleman caller in.  Rachael didn=t recognize him, but Annie sure did: Buck, one of the school=s janitors, a fat, sweaty man with a complexion as black as the night.  He smiled broadly, showing the gap between his front teeth as he spied his Adate@ for the night.

 

AHi, baby.  I never woulda though a you as a ho, but I guess you is at that!@ he exclaimed.  ATwo hunerd apiece, right?@ he said, looking at me.

 

APay the older one,@ I said.  AShe takes care of the money for me.@

 

AWhatever you says, boss,@ he shrugged, peeling off ten fifty dollar bills.  ADat=s fo five of us, all night long, whatever we wants, right?@

 

AAs long as she=s back by eight in the morning, and no damage to the merchandise.  Bruises are okay, but I expect her to have all her teeth, no new markings or piercings, and I don=t want to get her back knocked up,@ I warned him.  Annie looked up at me with true fear in her eyes for the first time.

 

AJust do what you=re told, and everything will be fine,@ I told the girl, taking her hand and placing it in the janitor=s large, calloused paw.

 

AC=mon, bitch, we gots us some partying to do!@ he said, dragging her out of the house.

 

Rachael stared out the door, a concerned look on her face, as her daughter was led outside into the man=s car.  Even from this distance, you could see her bare ass whenever she stumbled; he was walking at a fast pace, and Annie had only one hand to keep her dress down.

 

AShe=ll be okay,@ I told her, closing the door.  AMost of what just happened was intended to scare her, nothing more.  All they=re going to do is fuck her, nothing more than what you just did, except she=ll probably be on her back most of the time instead of on her knees.  Only one of Buck=s friends even bothers with ass-fucking.@

 

AThen why...@

 

AWhy did I have you abuse your own daughter like that?  Because I could,@ I said bluntly.  AI was testing both of you.  I wanted to see if you were truly obedient, and whether you had the ability to dominate your daughter.  You passed on both accounts.@

 

ASo are you going to fuck me now?@ she asked bluntly.

 

ANo.  You=re a little too old for my taste, though I might use your mouth occasionally.  What I do plan on using you for is to pimp out your daughter,@ I told her bluntly AMaybe my dad might like a piece of ass, though.@  She slumped down, an abject look on her face as I explained what I had planned.

 

Between her two regular jobs - we still had to find her the second one - and being her daughter=s pimp, she wasn=t going to have much free time.  That didn=t really concern me much, though; slaves don=t get days off.  I set up a separate phone line in her house, this one with an answering machine.  If she was home when it rang, she was to answer it, no matter the time of day or night.  If she was out, she was to check the messages as soon as she got home.  I provided her with one of those planner books people use to schedule appointments; as people called, she was to set them up with 45 minute sessions with Annie.  Each session was fifty dollars, and she was to be both scheduler and  cashier.  If anyone wanted Annie longer than that, it was an additional hundred per hour.

 

I never did fuck either Annie or her mother, though I kept them for two more years.  Annie became quite popular within certain circles, particularly the ass-fucking crowd.  Most whores charged extra for that, but with Annie it was all included.  She never did get that hotel job, but the money she was making for me was too good to pass up.  As for Rachael, my dad tried her out a couple of times but wasn=t all that excited about her.  Like me, he still preferred the younger ones.  I did allow Rachael to make a bit of side money by whoring herself out; since she was doing this on her own, I let her keep a couple of dollars whenever someone paid to fuck her. 

 

Truthfully, though, I tired of both slaves rather quickly.  If it weren=t for the cash Annie was bringing in, I=d probably have disposed of them after a couple of weeks.  By the time I finally did find a buyer, there wasn=t much left to shock either of them.  I figured that might change, though, because I sold them to some middleman who sent them  bigwig from Saudi Arabia.  He told me the Arab wanted them to keep his guards happy.  I never heard back from him, so I guess they worked out okay.

 

 

CONFESSIONS OF A SLAVER

CHAPTER V

 

Soon after I disposed of Annie and Rachael, it was time for me to be off to college.  I had my choice of institutions, and by now money was no object, so I carefully considered my options before deciding on a rather small college in rural Colorado.  I didn=t want to be lost in the crowd, or just another student ID number, and unlike most schools, freshmen weren=t required to live in the dorms.  I was able to find a small farm house a few miles from campus, isolated enough that it was unlikely anyone would stop by unless invited, yet close enough that it wouldn=t be a particularly difficult drive, even in the dead of winter.

 

Carolyn came with me, of course, but not as a student as I=d originally planned.  After training Annie, I realized what a waste of money and effort it would be to educate someone whose entire life ambition was to serve others.  As I told my sister that night when I informed her of my decision, if she could find a university that offered a degree in fucking, I=d send her there.  So, I brought her along with me, if for no other reason than to keep my place clean and serve as window dressing.  I even got her a job as a waitress at the local pizza joint.  She hated it, particularly because of the skimpy costume they made her wear.  As jaded as she was, she still detested being thought of as a common slut.  Those who asked her for dates soon found out that although she was easy, she wasn=t cheap.  Her going rate was a hundred dollars an hour, which quickly put the quash on most of the students, who were already living on a shoestring. Most decided they=d take their chances with the coeds; hardly a sure thing, but when they did strike pay dirt, it was certainly cheaper.

 

I pretty much played it cool my first semester, with nobody knowing the slut at the pizza parlor was my slave/sister.  I even had a few dates; if they were on nights when Carolyn wasn=t working, I=d send her out so my date wouldn=t know she lived in my house.  Since Carolyn=s bed and all her belongings were out in the garage, my visitors were none the wiser.  I even made her bring her toiletries in and out, so there weren=t even any tell-tale signs in the bathroom.

 

I=d always had a thing for oriental girls, every since Suzie Chan in the second grade, and I soon became enamored with this little girl of Chinese descent. Her name was Lotus, of all things, and I was in lust from the moment I saw her.  Those first few months, while I was still feeling my way around campus, I even fantasized about her while I was fucking my sister.  That=s when I realized how bad I had it for her.  I just had to figure out a way.

 

I finally decided to just ask her for a date and see where that might take me.  To my surprise, she accepted.  After a nice dinner down at the steak place, I invited her to my house.  I can honestly say that was my first real date, the first time I=d ever Amade love@ to a woman.  Every other time I=d had sex, I was fucking a slave.  This was different; not bad, not good, just different.  I=d always liked making a girl cum; it gave me a sense of absolute power.  Now, it was like I wanted her to cum simply because it seemed like a nice thing to do.  Every other time, if my partner didn=t have an orgasm, I didn=t really care.  I was fucking them for my pleasure, and if they didn=t enjoy it, too damned bad.  Now I was especially careful to make sure Lotus was always satisfied.

 

We=d been going together for a month, maybe six weeks, when she mentioned that living in the dorms sucked, and asked if she could move it.  We=d been joking for some time about tying each other up, and since I couldn=t really come up with an excuse for her not to move in, I figured it was time to level with her.  She seemed surprised but not shocked when I showed her the pile of blankets in the corner of the garage that my sister used as her bed.  Her eyes seemed to light up when I explained my relationship with her.

 

AIf I moved in, could I...I mean...use her sometimes?@ she asked almost shyly.

 

AI didn=t know you liked girls,@ I commented.

 

AWell,@ she said, AI=m curious, okay?  Besides, I heard guys like watching girls get it on with each other.@

 

AOkay,@ I shrugged, Aas long as you remember who her owner is.@

 

Lotus moved in the next morning, and by mid-afternoon, I was watching the hottest girl-on-girl action I=d seen this side of a porn flick.  Believe me, being there in person is so much better, and I finally couldn=t hold back.  I just had to get in on the action.  While Lotus was kneeling with her face in Carolyn=s bald pussy, I moved around behind my girlfriend.  I=d never felt her cunt so sopping wet, I thought as I slid my cock inside her.  Maybe she was a latent lesbian?  No, she had to be bisexual, I realized.  I=m not sure she even noticed I was there until she felt me explode; that was when she finally started thrusting back, wiggling her ass around like the hot slut she was becoming.  As I pulled out, she looked over her shoulder at me.

 

ACan I have your sister clean me?@ she asked excitedly.

 

AOf course,@ I replied.  AI can wait.@

 

Lotus giggled as she wiggled her way towards Carolyn=s head, leaving a slime trail across my sister=s belly as she did.  She squatted over Carolyn=s face, letting my cum drip onto it in little globs before finally lowering herself down onto my sister=s waiting lips.  Well-versed in this particular act, Carolyn took no time at all in sucking and lapping up all the juices in and around Lotus=s sex.

 

My little oriental girlfriend became quite the dominatrix, teaching me things about women that I never knew.  How to tell when Carolyn was right at the peak before an orgasm, for example, and how to quickly back her down, forcing her to beg and offer to do the most degrading things in order to be permitted to cum.  Lotus was big on the emotional aspects of domination, and taught me that going to far either way - either being too nice or two brutal - wasn=t good, unless it was planned for a specific purpose.  She taught Carolyn a lot, too, how to lick pussy just the first.  I never realized there were so many ways to do that, I thought, watching my sister being put through her paces early on one afternoon.  She had to learn to sense Lotus=s level of desire; did she want a quick orgasm, or a gentle tonguing that could take hours?  Nibble on the labia, or lash rapidly at the clitoris with the tip of the tongue?  I noticed the difference in the two women, too.  Once Lotus started cumming, she wanted little or no contact with her clit, preferring to squeeze her own breasts through her orgasm.  Carolyn, on the other hand, wanted to be ravaged and tortured, to have her clit pinched and sucked until she stopped flopping around like a dying fish.  I thought that was funny...when I saw Lotus bring my sister off like that, I thought she really did look like a fish flopping around on the dock.  She had powerful orgasms.

 

Lotus turned out to be a demanding Mistress to my sister, though she hated that term and never permitted Carolyn to call her that.  She said AMistress@ sounded like some stupid bitch  whoring herself out to a married man in the feeble hopes that he=d leave his wife.  She made it clear she had no intention of doing that, so decided that Carolyn would call her, ABeautiful Miss Lotus.@  She was strict with our slave, stricter than I had eve been.  Lotus expected nothing but perfection, and every mistake, no matter how small, was identified and confronted - usually by something painful or humiliating happening to Carolyn.

 

It was Lotus who took over the pimping of my sister, thought to be truthful, she usually just had Carolyn visit the dorms and offer herself to whoever had a few spare dollars.  Since Lotus kept track of the going rate and handled all the finances, she kept 20% for herself and turned the rest over to me.  We could have made more, but Lotus was adamant that the cost be kept down because most of the customers were college students; she never charged more than half what a regular whore would receive.  On a good night, we=d make $200, and over a thousand on the weekends. Carolyn, though she really did all the work, received nothing for her efforts. 

 

Of course, fucking for money wasn=t the only thing Carolyn was required to do.  When she wasn=t on her knees or back with her legs spread, she was taking care of all our personal needs - cooking, cleaning, laundry and the like.  Lotus particularly enjoyed having Carolyn give her a bath, and then letting our slave take her own bath in the used water.  When Lotus was feeling particularly smutty, she=d make a point of emptying her bladder in the water before allowing my sister to bathe. 

 

One morning, we were having a leisurely breakfast at the table, watching Carolyn scramble across the floor for the tiny scraps of food we were tossing her, when Lotus came up with the most wonderful suggestion.

 

AWhy don=t we see if we can find other girls like Carolyn - natural submissives, like her - and train them?  I=m sure we could have five or six, and imagine all the money we could make whoring them out?@

 

So that=s what we did.  Oh, it didn=t happen overnight, but I started dating other coeds and was soon able to target those with submissive tendencies.  I even got some Carolyn=s customers to start looking, and by the start of the fall term, had three other submissives living in my house - one of whom was actually a male, my first. 

 

Rita was Hispanic, her parents coming up from Mexico illegally before she was born.  She was about 5"2" tall, with long, shiny black hair, big tits, wide hips and thick thighs.  She wasn=t fat, and the proportions were just about perfect. 

 

Ophelia was black, tall and slender.  Her legs seemed to go on forever, and she had this cute little ass that wiggled suggestively when she walked.  The tiny tits - A cups - were about the only drawback; if it hadn=t been for her height (nearly six feet tall), I could have passed her off as a pre-teen.  She looked good in a large afro, so that=s how I kept her.  Her pubic hair was just a thin, curly carpet that did nothing more than accentuate the area between her legs.

 

Ginger was a redhead, appropriately, with enough freckles to mark every city on a map of the United States.  Her hair fell down to just below her ears, and she had just the tiniest fluff of cunt hair.  The most striking points about her were her nipples - when erect, they were nearly an inch long - and her Scottish accent, that just seemed to set men off when she=d moan Afuck me@ in their ear.

 

Patrick was the male.  Skinny, with a cock to match.  Bisexual, though that didn=t really matter to anyone except him.  I kept him shaved, except his scalp, which held a nice bit of light blond hair which he kept cut long, in a girlish sort of way.  Lotus liked to keep him feminized, with lipstick and makeup, women=s lingerie and heels; it turned me off that a man could let someone do that to him, but it kept Lotus entertained.

 

I soon found out that such an assortment of whores made for an interesting set of customers.  The local redneck farmers preferred abusing the black and Mexican; the black college students wanted Ginger and Carolyn.  As for Patrick, sometimes he was rented out by females, but usually it was either some guy who wanted to see his wife get fucked by someone else, or someone who felt as I did and simply wanted to punish him for being such a pussy. 

 

Regardless of which slave it was, whenever they weren=t fucking for money, they were serving Lotus and me in one manner or another.  It wasn=t always sexual; there was upkeep on the house, laundry, cooking and even car care (Pat was quite a shadetree mechanic as it turned out).  However, thanks to the time Lotus spent in scheduling customers, we could usually count on splitting at least $4000 each week.

 

As time went on, I would pick up new submissives and dispose of others - usually either setting them free after their fling at slavery, or if they insisted, giving or selling them to someone else.  A regular customer of Carolyn=s, for example, expressed a strong desire to have her as his own.  He came from a wealthy, politically-connected family and was willing to pay top dollar to obtain her release; instead, I gave her to him as a graduation gift.  He eventually became the state Attorney General, and never forgot what I=d done for him.

 

I graduated a year after that, and simply took my favorite new slave - a little thing who had been on a gymnastics scholarship until she decided to drop out in order to major in bedroom sports - and left the business to Lotus.  I=d been socking away money left and right, and now had my MBA and investments on the order of a half million dollars.  Not bad for a 23 year old.

CONFESSIONS OF A SLAVER

CHAPTER 6

 

After college, I decided to take a break and let my investments work for me, so I bought a little beachfront bungalow in what was at that time a fairly small, sleepy town called Santa Barbara.  Most of my investment decisions were good ones - a lot went into Hewlett-Packard at first, then later a few start-ups, Atari, Apple, Federal Express and Microsoft among them.  Some weren=t so good, like Eastern Airlines, one of the first American airline companies to go belly up.  I did like the airlines, though, and kept investing in them, no matter what.  I finally learned my lesson years later, when Western Pacific went bust after less than two years in operation.  That one cost me a tad over eight million dollars.  But what the hell, it was only money, right?

 

Anyway, life as a beachcomber was pretty good.  No real responsibilities other than reading the Wall Street Journal and other financial reports on a regular basis, then making a call to my broker if I wanted to act on something.  Other than that, I just pretty much bummed around, learned to surf, and did a lot of fishing.  I usually traveled north for the fishing, though.  Too much oil seepage in Santa Barbara to suit me, so I=d go up to Pismo Beach or Morro Bay, sometimes as far as Santa Cruz if I wanted to make a weekend out of it.

 

I dated a bit, too.  Well, more than a bit, actually.  This was the era of Afree love,@ after all.  It was also the era of psychedelic drugs, and while I enjoyed having my eardrums burst at a rock concert as much as the next guy, I never did the stuff.  Matter of fact, the hardest thing I ever did was vodka.  The cheap stuff, that burns so bad going down, you know?  Women who did drugs, or even smoked, I dumped as fast as I could.  Drugs were bad news, and while I wasn=t cigarette Nazi, I didn=t like kissing someone who tasted like the inside of an ashtray.  There were a couple of girls who showed some promise, but when I told them to stop smoking if they wanted to be with me, they decided their nicotine was more important.  By  Ashowed some promise,@ I mean they exhibited submissive tendencies.  However, since neither felt the fact that I didn=t like smoking was a good enough reason to give up tobacco, I doubt either would have made a good slave.

 

On the other hand, there were other girls who did have that innate desire to please, and made excellent slaves.  Lydia, for example, one of my first after college.

 

I met Lydia about six months after I set up in Santa Barbara, in the bar at Harry=s Townhouse, arguably the best place for prime rib in the county.  I used to go there once every couple of weeks, just for a change from my own cooking.  My skills in the kitchen were pretty much limited to spaghetti, hamburgers, and whatever came from a can or frozen aluminum tray (this was before microwave meals, and I=m sure some of you can remember the old metal TV dinner trays that took an hour to cook).  Anyway, I figured if I was going to pay someone to prepare a meal for me, I was going to make sure it was a good one. 

 

So there I was at Harry=s, waiting for a table, when Lydia caught my eye.  She was 23, a brand new high school English teacher just a few months into her first year of teaching.  Fairly short and stocky, but in a muscular way.  About 5'4" tall, weight just a tad on the heavy side but not a porker.  Not at all dumpy-looking in her mid-calf pastel dress and white pumps, quite appropriate attire for both the era and locale.  Brunette hair and green eyes, and nice, round, full tits. I=d find out later they were 40D=s, with barely any sag to them at all.  Nice, large protruding nipples that got rock hard whenever she got aroused.  The most amazing thing about her, though, was her clitoris.  It was huge, so large that it constantly peeked out from between her smooth, hairless mound like a tiny tongue sticking out from a clam shell, even when her legs were together.

 

That=s right, she kept herself shaved, even before we met.  She blushed adorably was she explained she=d been shaving since high school because she liked the way it looked and felt.  She was afraid I wouldn't like it, and offered to let her pubic hair grow out if that=s what I wanted.  I assured her I thought she was perfect just the way she was.  She didn=t quite squeal in glee, but she seemed happy that I liked it.  Of course, by now, the wheels were turning in my head.  I started testing her, taking not-quite baby steps.  It turned out she was as naturally submissive as anyone I=d ever met.

 

ADon=t get cleaned up,@ I said one night after a boisterous round of fucking.  I=d just dumped two loads in her wet cunt.  AI want you to go to school tomorrow filled with my cum, thinking about what your students - the boys, in particular - would think if they knew.@  She gave me a strange look, but nodded, mumbling something unintelligible.  She did just that, too.  I picked her up after school and had her spread her legs so I could inspect.  Dried cum was clearly visible on her puffy bald mound and thighs.

 

AI=d like you to dress more sexily for our dates,@ I told her another time.  AShort skirts, above the knees, and boots.  Like your older students wear,@ I said.  AAnd since you know I=m going to use you anyway, don=t you think underthings are just a waste of time?  Stockings are fine, but panties and bras just get in the way and slow us down, don=t they?@  Again, she hesitated just slightly, then nodded, blushing.  I=m not sure whether she was more embarrassed that she was acquiescing to my desire that she go naked under her skimpy skirt and blouse, or the fact that I said I was going to Ause her,@ rather than something like, Awhen we make love.@  She did acquiesce, though, and as the year progressed, she eventually was going without undergarments altogether.  Oh, at school she wore longer, heavier dresses, but never anything that extended below her knees.  Pants and the like were out, too; at home it was nothing but revealing clothing - or nothing at all.

 

A few months after we=d met, I suggested that she leave her small apartment and move in with me.  She was, after all, spending more time in my shack than at her place, and it seemed like a waste of money to be paying rent for something you seldom used, I reasoned to her.  When she told me that she=d need someplace to store her furniture, I pointed out that storage would be almost as expensive as rent, and that she would probably do better to either sell it or donate it to a charity.  The only two things we kept were her cedar chest - filled with her mother=s wedding gown and other things for the life her parents had planned for her - and a king-sized four poster bed.  Everything else went to her former neighbors, and what she couldn’t sell got sent to the Salvation Army.  The contents of her cedar chest would eventually go there, too, but not just yet.

 

Once she was fully moved in, I started laying down more and more rules for her to follow.  Her attire at home, for example, consisted of a garter belt, fishnet stockings and either platform or high heeled shoes.  The only time she was allowed to wear anything else was when she was getting ready for work, and she had to change back as soon as she got home.  Other than when we had company - which was never - that=s all she was allowed to wear.

 

She was responsible for all the cooking and housecleaning, too, and I demanded everything be spotless.  Her daily routine was to change as soon as she got home, then start dinner.  While our meal was cooking, she=d get to work cleaning up the messes I=d often intentionally made, while I relaxed in my recliner and watched television.  Once dinner was ready, she=d sit at the table - the only time she was allowed on furniture without specific permission - and wait for me to sample the food, not taking a bite herself until I nodded, indicating that her efforts were acceptable.  They usually were, but on the few occasions when I didn=t care for the dinner she=d prepared, she went hungry.

 

After she=d finished washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen, she=d sit at the table to correct homework and grade tests.  I allotted an hour a night for this; if it took any longer, she=d have to do it after I went to sleep.  At 7:00 p.m. on the dot, she knew I expected her to be kneeling at my feet, eagerly waiting to please me.  I seldom disappointed her, usually allowing her to practice her oral skills while I watched at TV show or read a book.  What happened after that depended on my mood.  Sometimes I=d just cum in her mouth and go to bed early; other times I=d keep her up all night, taking her repeatedly, then using a dildo or my hand when I was completely spent.  No matter what, though, I made her wait until I had my orgasm before I let her cum.

 

I spent a lot of effort training Lydia.  I never could make her cum on command, but she did get to the point where she couldn’t have an orgasm without permission.  At times, I would make her stand in the corner or sit on the floor and use a vibrator or her fingers on herself for hours, watching her get more and more frustrated as I denied her the relief she so desperately needed.  It was on one of these nights that I finally began bringing other people into our relationship.

 

She was in the middle of the living room, squatting over a dildo I=d mounted on a short pole, when the doorbell rang.  She looked up, startled - nobody ever came to our house - and began to climb off, covering her swollen tits with her hands, looking furtively at the hallway to make her escape.

 

AKeep going,@ I growled.  AI didn=t say you could stop fucking your toy!@  Waited until she resumed humping the plastic cock, then answered the door. 

 

Lydia=s position in the center of the living room meant she was completely visible from the door, which I opened widely.  Standing there were two friends of mine from college, Buck and Dave.

 

ANice,@ Buck commented.  Dave just responded with a low whistle, watching the glistening dildo disappear and reappear while my almost-slave averted her eyes and turned bright red, fucking herself even harder in an apparent attempt to concentrate on something other than the fact that she was on display in front of two strangers.

 

ALook, it=s blushing!@ Dave laughed, using the impersonal vernacular I=d insisted on in school.  Until now, Lydia had never been referred to as an Ait,@ but she would soon discover her status was about to change from human being to object.

 

AWhere did you find it?@ Buck asked.  AReminds me of what=s-her-cunt, that redhead Mexican bitch.@

 

ALupe, you mean,@ I said.  AYeah, but that one was already a whore when I met her,@ I reminded them.  AI don=t think Lydia=s ever been fucked by anyone but me.  Have you?@ I asked pointedly, looking over at her.  She blushed even more furiously, hesitating in mid-stroke as she shook her head.

 

AWell, I can=t wait to break this one in, then!@ Buck announced gleefully, causing Lydia to stop what she was doing, and look up in horror.

 

AI can=t...I mean...you can=t...I won=t....@ she stammered almost unintelligibly.

 

AYes, you will,@ I answered sternly.  AWhat do you think I=ve been training you for?@

 

ATraining?@ she gasped.

 

AYeah.  Why do you think you have all these rules?  Why do you think I make you sleep on the floor, or suck me off whenever I feel like it?  Why do you think I don=t let you cum whenever you want to?  I=ve been training you.  Did you really think you a big-titted, cum-craving cunt like you is better suited to be a schoolteacher?  No, your future is as a sex slave.@

 

Not surprisingly, her legs gave out at that point and she dropped down onto the dildo, engulfing it completely into her sopping wet cunt.  She came at the same time, screaming as the unauthorized orgasm washed over her.  It was the first time in nearly six months she=d cum without being told to do so, but I had no intention of punishing her for it.  In fact, I was pleased.  My two buddies looked on, grinning as she toppled to the side, her hands at her crotch as she flicked that oversized clit of hers, bringing herself to one earth-shattering orgasm after another.  She finally collapsed on the floor, her body covered in sweat, the sweet smell of wet cunt filling the room.  I walked over and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her to her knees and forcing her to look up at me.

 

AYou know this was meant to be, don=t you, cunt?@ I spat, staring deeply into her green, tear-filled eyes.  She nodded.

 

ASay it, then!@ I demanded.

 

AThis was meant to be,@ she barely whispered.

 

AWhat was meant to be, cunt?@ I prompted, grabbing her chin in my hand and clamping down painfully.

 

AI was meant to be a...a...slave,@ she answered.

 

AFrom now on, my name is >Master.=  My friends are both >Sir.=  Got it?@ I asked.

 

AYes, Master,@ she replied softly.

 

AYour name is cunt, or bitch, or whatever I want to call you.@

 

AMy name is cunt, bitch or whatever you want to call me, Master.@

 

>Good.  Now that we understand each other, go offer yourself to my friends,@ I said, giving her the first of many commands she=d receive as a slave.  ACrawl to them, kneel at their feet, and beg them to use you like the slave you are.@

 

I watched for a moment as she slowly crawled towards Dave and Buck, who were now both sporting huge hard-ons, even more apparent to my new slave due to the fact that their clothes lay in heaps on the floor.  The both grinned cruelly as her naked form worked towards them.  I had one more thing to do, though, to completely break Lydia=s will, and walked out of the room just as Buck ordered her to begin cleaning his feet with her tongue.

 

When I returned a few minutes later, my friends were going at her from both ends.  The entire front portion of Buck=s foot was crammed into Lydia=s mouth, who was simultaneously gagging and trying unsuccessfully to crawl away, because Dave was assaulting her cunt the same way - shoving his foot between her legs.  When they both took notice of me, I shook my head disapprovingly, causing them both to disengage.

 

AGet dressed,@ I commanded my slave, tossing her mother=s crumpled wedding gown on the floor in front of her.  AYou=ll never be married, but this - entering your new life as a sex object and slave - is the closest you=ll ever get.  It=s only proper that you should be able to remember this day as if it was your wedding.@

 

Lydia began sobbing uncontrollably, the reality of her future finally setting in.  From this day forward, her entire purpose for being would be to serve others.  She could expect no mercy, no pleasure, except that which those using her might bestow.  She started to rise to her feet in order to put the white lace gown on, but a snap of my fingers and a disapproving glare caused her to remain on her knees.  She struggled to slip it over her head, finally smoothing down the sides over her otherwise naked body.

 

AOn her wedding night, a bride in white surrenders her virginity, doesn=t she?@ I asked gently, holding her sobbing face with one hand.

 

AY...yes, Master,@ she replied.

 

ABut you=re hardly a virgin, aren=t you?@

 

ANo, Master, I=m not,@ she mumbled.

 

AExcept you=re not totally broken in, are you?  Isn=t there one place you are still a virgin?@

 

AM-Master?@ she asked, looking up with a puzzled expression on her face.

 

AThink about it, slave.  I=ve fucked you in that hot cunt of yours, and taught you how to use your mouth the same way.  Do you have any holes that haven=t been used by a man yet?@ 

 

She thought about it for a moment, her expression changing from bewilderment to fear as she realized what I was talking about.

 

AMy...my...my bottom, Master?@ she asked in a quiet, tiny voice. 

 

ANo, dear, not you >bottom,=@ I laughed, noting the fleeting relief on her face, then watching it disappear as I continued.  AYour asshole, your back door, your Hershey Highway, perhaps, but not your >bottom.=@ Her lip began to quiver, her eyes filling with tears.

 

ABut it=ll hurt, Master!  Please, no!@ she wailed, finally losing control of her emotions.

 

AAre you saying you don=t want to be fucked in the ass?@ I asked her pointedly.  ABy the three of us?@

 

ANo, Master.  I mean, yes, Master.  I don=t want to be...to be...fucked in the ass,@ she sobbed.  AYes, that=s what I=m saying.@

 

AAnd you think that somehow you have the right to refuse?  That anyone cares what you want?@ Buck asked pointedly.  AJesus, it is a stupid cunt, isn=t it?@ he said, turning to me.

 

AI wouldn=t go that far,@ I replied.  AIt just doesn=t understand its place yet.@

 

We let Lydia kneel there on the floor for a few minutes while we talked about her.  I told my friends how I=d been almost surreptitiously training her, without letting her really know what was going on.  I described how I=d sent her to school at least once a week with a fresh load of cum in her cunt, how I made her do all the housework naked, had her dispose of all her personal property, and still she never caught on.

 

AWell, I don=t care what you think,@ Dave said.  AShe sounds pretty stupid to me, if she didn=t even have an inkling that this was going to happen.@  Dave always had a problem referring to females as objects, even though of the three of us, he consistently treated them more harshly.  AShe=s probably too stupid to made a decent slave anyway.  Personally, I think you ought to just fuck the bitch and drop her off on some street corner naked.  Let her fend for herself.  See how ungrateful she is, just sitting there crying, after you go to all the trouble to feed, clothe and train her?  And she won=t even give you her asshole?  Fuck!@ he spat, feigning disgust.  I knew this was all part of his act; Lydia didn=t, though.

 

ASay, that=s an idea!@ I commented.  ALet=s give it a choice.  First, it can beg us to fuck it in the ass.  Second, it can choose Dave=s suggestion.  We=ll all fuck it, then let it go just like you said.  What about you, Buck?  You have a third option for the bitch?@  I looked down and saw that Lydia was paying attention now.

 

AHmmm...I think we ought to call what=s-his-name up...the kennel guy, remember him?@

 

AYou mean Rich, from college?@

 

AYeah.  See if he=s still training dogs that way.  I=d like to see the bitch gang-raped by four or five of them.  We could film it, and then sell copies.@

 

AOkay, cunt,@ I said harshly.  AThose are your choices, then.  Either you beg to be ass-fucked, and then willingly take each of us up that virgin hole of yours; you get fucked and then dumped naked down the street; or you get fucked by a pack of dogs.  Your fourth option is to choose nothing, in which case I=ll make sure the photos I=ve been taking are posted on every bulletin board in the school.  Then we=ll butt-fuck you anyway.  Thirty seconds to decide, cunt!@  She started sobbing once more, no doubt aware that she really didn=t have any choice at all.

 

AM-m-master, please f-f-f-uck my ass,@ she sobbed softly. 

 

AWell, since you asked so nicely,@ I grinned, AWhy don=t you start working some of that cunt slime of yours into your butthole?  I don=t care whether buttfucking causes you pain, but I don=t want my dick to get chaffed.@   I shoved her head to the floor and lifted the wedding gown up over her back, exposing her splayed legs to view, watching as she wiped up some cunt juice with her fingers and began working them into her ass.  As I=d expected, she was sopping wet, juices glistening on her thighs nearly halfway down to her knees.  I=d never seen her this wet before.  I smiled knowingly, understanding the significance, watching her move load after load of girl cum from her wet, swollen gash to her asshole.  Each time, her fingers disappeared more deeply inside.

ACome over here and get me hard,@ I commanded.  With her hands still plowing away between her legs, Lydia scooted over to me, taking me in her mouth.  She had the softest, warmest mouth; today, it was even better.  It was all I could do not to cum down her throat.

 

ABeg,@ I ordered.

 

APlease, Master, fuck my ass!@ she begged, her words barely understandable because she still had my cock in her mouth.  I let her continue begging for a few moments, watching her finger herself furiously, thanks to the mirror that Dave had strategically placed behind her.

 

AMake sure my cock=s nice and wet first, then turn around and present your ass to me,@ I said.  She slobbered one last time, leaving saliva dripping from my rock-hard member as she turned her back to me, then lowered her head to the floor and used her hands to spread her ass cheeks. 

 

APlease fuck my ass, Master!@ my little slut wailed.

 

I placed my cock between her ass cheeks, rubbing in up and down the saturated valley, teasing her with little pokes at both her holes.  She pushed towards me every time the head of my dick made contact with her soaked cunt; I could actually see the juices flowing out of her hole, she was so excited.  Finally finished teasing her, I placed my cockhead right at the tight ring of flesh protecting her cornhole, and grabbing her hips with my hand, thrust forward with all my strength.

 

AAaarrggh!@ she screamed as my dick fully penetrated her ass.  I began pounding at her, not permitting her even a second of respite, listening as the grunting noises she made every time I thrust forward turned into moans of pleasure.  Aware that she was willingly accepting the invader in her ass now, I released her hips and rose up on my knees, keeping her impaled.

 

AI don=t think it=s right that I should be doing all the work, do you, slave?@ I asked.  I=m not sure whether she actually heard me or not, but she immediately responded by rocking back and forth on her hands and knees, fucking her ass on my dick.  It had been a long time since I=d fucked a virgin asshole, and I wasn=t able to hold off very long, spewing hot semen deep into her bowels just a few seconds later. 

 

When I was done, I leaned forward, panting and trying to catch my breath for a bit, feeling her still trying to hump my now-shrinking cock. 

 

AI think she wants more,@ Buck commented.  AMind if I take sloppy seconds?@

 

AHelp yourself,@ I told him, pulling out and letting my cock flop softly on her buttcheek.  AWait a sec, though.@  Everyone except Lydia knew what was coming next as I moved to her front, letting my dick hang inches in front of her face.

AClean me, cunt!@ I commanded.  Lydia=s mouth clamped shut as she shook her head.

 

AAss-to-mouth is the trademark of a slut, and you can=t deny that=s what you are.  Finger-fucking yourself in front of strangers, then begging to be ass-fucked?  Who but a slut would do those things?  You can either do it, or we=ll pick one of those other options we discussed.  I=ll be you wouldn=t be so picky about where a cock has been after you=ve been fucked by a few dogs, wouldn=t you?@  Tears welled up in her eyes as she hesitantly opened her mouth.

 

AJust clean it off,@ I said.  AI don=t want a blow job.  Just lick it with your tongue.  That way I won=t get it bitten off when Buck fucks you.  He tends to be a little rambunctious,@ I said.

 

She did get ass-fucked by all three of us that night, using her mouth afterwards to make sure we were all squeaky clean before spreading her legs for my friends.  We each dumped three loads into her, though I have to admit that last go-round was pretty week.  We were all pretty fucked out.  Through it all, I never gave her permission to cum.  She knelt on the floor after we were through with her, begging with her eyes.  Finally, she spoke.

 

AMaster?@

 

AWhat?@ I snapped, causing her to flinch.

 

AMaster...can I...would you...Master, may I please cum?@ she implored.  It was the first time she=d asked for permission to have an orgasm, and she did it in front of two of my friends.  Another brick had just been removed from the wall.

 

AWhat are your rules about orgasms?@

 

AMaster, I can=t have one unless you let me, and...and...I have to be naked...and...I have to yell that I=m cumming when it happens, Master,@ she panted, her need even more obvious now.

 

AWell, are you dressed for it, then?@ I grinned, watching as she literally ripped the antique gown off, displaying her very aroused, well-used, naked body, half-congealed cum on her thighs, belly, ass, face and tits.

 

AMay I cum now, Master?@ she asked again in a rather annoying, needy voice.

 

AI think you should put on a little show for us first, don=t you, guys?@  My friends nodded in agreement.  AYou can start by crawling over to Dave=s clothes and finding his undershorts.  Then you can wash them out in your mouth,@ I told her.  Without any hesitation, she obeyed, not even using her hands.  She rooted through the pile of dirty clothes, then finding his jockeys, lifted them up triumphantly with her teeth.  We could all see the yellow stain adorning the front, and the dark brown Aracing stripe@ at the back; Dave was never well-known for good hygiene, and he=d prepared for today by wearing the same shorts all week.  The expression on her face showed us that the taste was disgusting to her, but she slurped the entire thing into her mouth nonetheless, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk=s.

 

AWhat, you don=t like it?@ I said mockingly.  AA slave should be happy to be obeying its Master=s orders, and should be showing how happy she is!@  Lydia=s face changed from looking like someone farted to a having a big, stupid smile on it as she chewed away at the filthy, shit-stained garment in her mouth.

 

AThat=s better.  Now, you may face away from us with your nose on the floor, and show us how you play with that fat, wet cunt of yours.  And don=t forget to keep chewing!@

 

We all laughed as Lydia=s body turned bright red, but her hands flew between her legs nonetheless, obeying our commands as we told her to spread her cunt lips apart, pinch her swollen clitoris, and ram three, then four fingers in as deeply as they could go.  Her cunt didn=t get all the abuse, either, as we made her spread her abused asshole for our viewing pleasure, allowing us to see the swollen, inflamed inner tissues and the semen coating them.  We let her go on for about 20 minutes, low moans coming from behind her underwear-filled mouth, while we talked about her like she was just a piece of meat.  Which, at that point, she was.  Finally, I decided enough was enough, and interrupted her diddling with a sharp slap to her ass.

 

ATurn around and kneel up,@ I told her.  AHow=s that cleaning job coming,@ I asked, as I kicked her knees farther apart, exposing her deliciously swollen cunt, the hole spasming open and closed like a fish=s mouth.  She pulled the underwear out of her mouth and held them up.  I could see she=d made progress, but not enough.

 

AOkay, time for some spot cleaning.  First thing, it needs to be wetter.  Since your mouth is probably all dried out, we=ll have to think of something else.  Any ideas, bitch?@ I said, leering at her.

 

AMy...my cunt, Master?@ she asked hesitatingly.

 

AVery good.  Now let=s see if you can shove that whole thing up inside, shall we?@  Taking an edge of the briefs, she used her index finger to slowly push the dirty piece of cotton into her cunt, looking at me with a beaming smile when she=d accomplished the first part of her task.

 

ANow, since you=re going to be a human washing machine, we need to agitate the tank, don=t we?@

 

AYes, Master, I guess so,@ she said, somewhat bewildered.

 

ASo can you think of anything we can do to move the dirty laundry around inside our human washer?@