Serving the Masters drinks in the hot afternoon.

 

On pads of my feet, nearly on tiptoes so as to enter the hall gracefully & quietly, where the Masters were seated enjoying the cooling breeze from the coast. Vulnerable and anxious to be superbly pleasing as a slavegirl should always be, in the presence of her Masters. Always announced by the tiny tinkling sounds of the bells on my nipple chain and on my clitoris piercing, like a belled animal. But also I felt rather than heard the squelching between my wet thighs and the thick sensation & hot aroma of my slave heat.

The Masters though paid me no heed, as holding the heavy tray I curtsied and knelt down gracefully at the small serving table situated at the feet of their chairs. Where I could serve them chilled beer, and roasted meat snacks. On the tray also were  bowls of warm scented water, so they could clean their fingers, if they so wished. The loaded tray had been heavy, but that was no concern of theirs. In another part of the hall there were 2 slavegirls, nude on all fours, cleaning the tiled floor. Or rather on their knees only. Their hands were in slave cuffs behind them, held in the small of their backs by a waist chain. Known as love cuffs, often used for fellatio, they are equally suited to menial chores. The links were heart shaped and pretty, delicate even, but far stronger that any slavegirl could even think about breaking. They were naked except for the tiny glossy veils that covered their pretty mouths. Fervently polishing the floor with sex soiled slave panties in their lips And I noticed with satisfaction that my blonde rival was one of the girls, the other was also an imported slave, a fantastic redhead. I was glad to see both of them performing their chores so menially, and although it was so often myself in this position I was glad it was they and not me on this rather hot stuffy day. Both girls were swaying & swinging their bottoms prettily in unison as they worked, so as to be a pleasing site to their Masters. Their tiny clitoris bells just about visible and ringing out sweetly together.

They would be sexually frightened and just as anxious to be pleasing. As I was constantly. They were naked but today I was permitted to wear a pink serving apron. It was tiny and completely diaphanous, lustrous and glossy where it clung to my curves. I was permitted no other clothing or underwear except for my own tiny glossy mouth veil also in pink. The Masters liked to see us at our chores nude, exposed  and vulnerable. And if we were permitted a tiny scrap of filmy clothing, which we clung to so gratefully, it was only to enjoy snapping their fingers and telling us to strip, whenever it amused them. Of course we never dared to disobey, but one of the pleasures of owning imported girls is watching that shocked fearful disbelief on our faces as we nonetheless hurried to obey. And sometimes that tiny helpless gesture of futile rage as we clenched our weak fists then hurriedly unclenched them. All the slaves sometimes did this in tiny futile pique.

Similarly with slave ‘panties’ or nether shields. Slavegirls were not previously permitted this type of garment. Until to became rather in fashion, mainly fropm the slavers, and highly  pleasing to peel them forcefully from us and stuff them into our mouths gagging us for sex. The Men here are all rather well endowed and enjoy sex, and also enjoy our tight little bottoms as we squeal and moan in humiliated misery. And our muffled cries make this more enjoyable, especially for anal. The native girls find that strange but they also are distressed by anal. Especially when they are gagged by their own soaked panties, like earth girls for sex.

Being gagged like this reminds us of our capture, and also when we once thought we were free and foolishly in any way equal to Men. As during capture we are so often gagged with our panties, they being quite to hand and a good way to silence, humiliate & put us immediately in our place, ready to be bound hand and foot, kidnapped. Our Master once He had found out that I and the other blonde had been rivals on Earth, enjoyed gagging us with each other panties and often had us perform joint fellatio and to dance together arousing each other with our tongues, until they were ready for fellatio or for sex. We were not allowed to climax from each others tongues, of course that pleasure was for them.

I Knelt down gracefully at the table and lifting the heavy tankard of beer, rolled it in my cleavage and kissed the rim before lowering my already bowed head further and proffering it to the first Master.

“Please Master, this slave bring You, Your beer on this warm day and hopes You will find it and her service pleasing and refreshing. And that she may please You with her mouth or further service as You enjoy Your drink, thank You Master.” I whispered.

We were always to be unobtrusive and effacing in their presence. Intimidated, physically, intellectually  and sexually, desperately  anxious to please, to be found pleasing.

At the slightest gesture, imagined or not of His displeasure, or any male displeasure, I would be trembling and quaking, my naked flanks feeling so very exposed. He could slap my bottom or pull me across His lap to spank my creamy bottom & thighs. And although that highly sexually arousing at first, His hands are always very big and firm on your soft behind. Arousing until that first slap or very firm spank. Or so much worse He might ask you or tell you that perhaps you should be punished with the whip. Casually sending you to fetch the whip, often on all fours holding the whip crossways in your mouth as you return. Just the mention of that fearsome well worn crop, causing you to blanche of all colour and nearly wet yourself with utter fright. You feel suddenly so hot and yet so cold between your nude thighs. Totally stricken with fright, and even your rivals so competitively jealous as they always are, are frightened and appalled by your helplessness.

Yet He threatens and delivers such punishments so imperiously but casually whenever He is displeased or so pleases. Or just has you kneel on all fours kissing and sobbing the whip, to put you instantly in your place, at or rather beneath His feet. After the mere hint or imagined hint of the whip, you are so frightened and obsequiously  compliant, as you serve, excruciatingly aware every gesture or inflection in His voice imbued with His total dominance.

As it always should be. After the auction day, my brand still burning and excruciatingly painful as it healed. I had knelt in the slave quarters both I and the other blonde, as a native girl instructed us in applying our cosmetics

“More lip gloss,” said our instructor.

“More eye shadow and blusher.”

“Please miss” We had protested already feeling like whores.

Imported girls and especially blondes must always refer to native girls as miss, even if they are slaves like ourselves. 

Surely you would prefer for your Master to see you in terms of His desire and not in terms of discipline,” She told us.

In fact she would relish seeing us or any of her rivals in trouble, as would we all. But she had been tasked with attending to our cosmetics and would be punished just as severely for any failings as we would be. I hadn’t quite noticed the utter fright in Her tone back then, but I knew it oh so well now.

“I am so frightened,” I had whispered watching myself in the mirror, trembling. “I am afraid to be presented before my Master.”

“An appropriate and  suitable fear for a slavegirl,” She had said, almost sympathetically. “It is up to you to see that He finds you pleasing.”

“Yes miss, thank you miss.” I had whispered, hearing my companion echo my words equally frightened as I was.

“And not to be found displeasing, the whip is a very good incentive for slavegirls.”

“Yes miss, thank you miss.”  We had chorused together

I was so glad that my rival from the office was here kneeling in the small stone room where the kennels where,  sharing my fate, would be tasting the whip, she deserved it so. She was such a tease and bimbo in the office.

The office had, had an old fashioned power dynamic. Although, off course  we dressed to please ourselves not for the men, we secretaries and office assistants were eye candy and subtly expected to dress the part. I had enjoyed my little mini skirts especially the leather skirts and tight glossy blouses. Enjoyed walking into a room and seeing without seeing all the eyes on me from all the men. Especially teasing the male office juniors, but also the glances and sometimes rather frank looks from the more superior men in the office. The senior ladies looked at us with disdain, but also jealousy I suspect. How I would enjoy seeing them here if they too were considered ‘too beautiful to be free’ captured and taken in the night, silenced with their own fusty panties stuffed into their mouths. But she and I had always tried to outdo each other, but she was kneeling beside me too.

In fact we were a matching pair in height, curves and hair colour, and had been curated as such. Blondes with that comely golden Saxon blonde  look, we would go for a respectable price in the markets, very light golden blonde but not as white haired as the native more Scandinavian looking blonde girls here. Collected curated and captured As had all the girls in the secretary and assistant pool. And the disdainful senior ladies too, bound for the auction block. Although in my terror I had not realised this as during my capture and transport I had been looking down or facing the wall as instructed, obediently. Helplessly frightened and hoping that this was all just a curiously & embarrassingly slightly arousing nightmare. Or  that my stern captors would somehow keep all the others but release me. And then after arriving on planet, we  tied, or buckled in tight straps gagged and hooded for transport, bound for different towns, markets and auctions. Not so much for the casual bondage slave girls were subject too. But blindfolded or hooded to keep us docile and helpless during transport.

We were often kept in chains or straps and often gagged or hooded, as the Masters saw fit to enjoy us. And at night we were often cuffed in our kennels. Sometimes we wore the iron belt, much like a medieval chastity belt. A plain flat U shaped ring that passed between our thighs and locked to a ring around our waists. This wasn’t to enforce exclusiveness however, just to remind us that even our intimacies were owned and controlled by our Masters. Your wrists would be secured behind your back to on the waist ring. To stop you touching yourselves in the night, the Masters might laugh, knowing that we would never dare masturbate or climax without permission, but being locked & having our wrists secured like this made us feel so hot, simmering they called it.    

In fact what was not generally known and certainly not to me, but the slavers locally  accomplices on Earth. Who thought after the transport was done, that they would be well rewarded financially and live the life of the  Masters after stepping through the quantum transporters, they were pushing the terrified slaves through. But they would also be transformed into slave girls. The transporters work in one direction only. Only native Men, can return as Men, and women can only ever go one way. The male accomplices would have a brief few seconds to realize what had happened as they found themselves transformed into totally blonde bimbos, & quite air headed so. The Masters have no sympathy for them, seeing them as dupes and weaklings for ever allowing earth women such as ourselves to ever believe we were equal to Men and deserving of anything other than menial domesticated, sexual slavery, and of course the whip. Not that, their fate would have been of any comfort, or satisfaction to us if we had known. They were just like us blonde slavegirls heading for the auction block.  

How glad I had been to know that my rival was here & that she would be whipped, if she was anything less than totally & perfectly pleasing. I was so smug & glad that is until I realised that her fate would be mine.

And now when I or she entered a room the men would be looking at me openly and as lustfully as they pleased. I would be wiggling my bottom, not in fashionable sexy leather miniskirt, to tease. But wiggling my bottom prettily and anxious to please my Masters. Watching me with open desire, If they so pleased to, that is if they bothered to notice us at all. As we served them frightened and abjectly submissive, not daring in any way to interrupt or disturb them. But under their strict male dominance, hot and wet, aching to please them.

Terrified of the whip and that moment of hot sex & fear. The moment that seemed to stretch on forever and consume you completely with fright. Being told to fetch  the whip, or kneeling sobbing covering that stern implacable implement of pain and discipline in kisses. Sobbing and begging to be forgiven for your minor unwitting disobedience or trivial infraction,  not to be beaten, for His leniency. Not to spend the rest of the week with your inflamed puffy rump stinging and smarting with pain as the subcutaneous welts and bruises gradually subsided.

I truth we were not beaten often, maybe around once a month, sometimes longer sometimes less. As after your first whipping you would do absolutely anything not to be punished again. But the masters were very strict with us and you could be punished for the tiniest thing if they so pleased. And often if they passed you while you were on busy scrubbing the floor nude all fours they might, swat your behind once or twice, and tell you to hurry up, or tell you, you had missed a speck of dust.

“Yes Master, thank you Master.” You would sob in pain and fright. He might press the tab of the crop between your wet thighs and then have you kiss and lick it clean, as you thanked him.      

Yet for Him this and other punishments were nothing, an interlude at most, unimportant. You would be punished if He chose to punish you. Or not as He saw fit.      

But how we squirmed and squelched needily, under their strict dominance. A submissive female under uncompromising male dominance. Always trying self consciously & frightened to not be in any way intrusive. Your needs were irrelevant & unimportant, only his pleasure and satisfaction were important to you now. And even though you feared the horrible whip terribly, you were so flattered and mollified to be ‘too beautiful to be free’ not to be punished, to be too desirable not to kept under a strict and perfect, painful discipline.

As you served your Master. Or any Master, or any of His guests. Longing to be sent to His bed, or instructed to kneel inside his open knees and please Him. Looking up at Him lovingly adoringly, frightened but helplessly wet with the desire to please Him. To feel Him explode in your mouth, or between your legs, and to climax and submit  to Him totally in orgasmic surrender.  For that brief ecstatic moment when you felt yourself merge into His lustful desire. But often especially during the day it was just fellatio leaving you helplessly wet and needy, but that was of no concern to Him, we were for His pleasure not our needs no matter how hot and desperate we were.  Before you licked Him clean and He slapped your bottom dismissing you in tears back to your tiny kennel or your chores.            

I had served drinks all afternoon, rushing back and forth with fresh beer & snacks, while the Masters enjoyed their afternoon. And afterwards in the early evening one of the Men had called me to kneel intimately for Him.

Dismissing me with my mouth and face all sticky to my kennel, as He went to the pool to swim and cool down. I would be locked in the iron belt tonight, and pushed into a tiny kennel with my rival. She was hot and sticky, having also been taken by 3 of the Men. She was gagged with Her panties, and the kennel attendant also decided to gag me, We were not allowed to chatter much in the kennels anyways, maybe the briefest of whispers, but not tonight not that we ever had much to say to each other anyway, nor much to any of the other girls who were our fierce rivals. I was gagged with another pair of quite sticky silk panties, before He closing the leather curtain over the cage and leaving us in the hot sticky total darkness.

I squelched and squirmed helplessly, wishing I had been chosen, furious with her, that she had been so well used and I had not. But also glad that the Masters were so strict and uncompromising with us.

Thank You Master.  

Kissing the whip together, two blondes for His enjoyment

 

We were on all fours at His feet, fervently kissing His whip together. Choking with fright sobbing and whimpering to not be punished by Him. Our glossy lips pressing to the flexible but firm tab, iin helpless desperation. Tasting and smelling the well worn leather tab of the riding crop shaped ‘pleasure whip’. The stale sweaty taste of fear and sex. The Masters liked to press the tab and between our thighs, moisten it with our slave heat, to remind us even as we might be being regarded at that moment for His pleasure or rape, we still always under His perfect and obdurate discipline. The discipline of owned slave girls under strict male domination.

Our eyes met over the crop as we sobbed. Slave girls are not permitted to look up at Master, above His belt without His express instruction or permission, even whilst performing fellatio some Master preferred us to keep our eyes submissively lowered.  Rather than meeting His gave submissively, and showing Him how much you wanted to please Him with your mouth. Even amongst ourselves, mere slaves, possessions we kept our eyes mostly lowered, in hot shameful desire. But this afternoon He had instructed us to kiss the whip together and to look at each other, as we begged and pleaded to be kept imperfect discipline, but not to be punished. Because this girl was a good girl Master, and to punish the other slave instead because she was the naughty disobedient slave, but not this girl Master, never this slave Master. On all fours sobbing in fear and desperate humiliated shame.

When you are kissing Masters whip you are numb and choking with helpless fright, you blanched and tremble at just the mere mention of the fearsome implement. It would be interesting to watch a girl serving beautifully and gracefully, proud to note that the Men were watching her curves as she humbly but prettily serves them. Suddenly reduced to a fearful slave by the mention let alone the snap of the whip. She doesn’t let her pose drop, but you can see her body grow suddenly pale and trembling Reduced to where she should always be, utterly beneath her Masters and her Masters firm hand. It would be interesting to watch,  if you didn’t also know that,  that was you always in their presence.

The other Men looked on disinterestedly, we were just slaves, blonde fucktoys, He could do with us as He pleased. Another slave was serving them drinks and begging to please them while they drank. Sometimes the Masters would enjoy fellatio as they drank, perhaps passing the used slavegirl around after she had swallowed His pleasure and thanked Him. Or perhaps having a girl each to serve them. Most households kept a few girls in the slave kennels so Master and any of His guests always had a selection to choose from. But today the Men  were not interested really and just wanted to drink cold beer. They could enjoy fucking us later. It was a hot day after all, and they had all been out hunting, most of the day, while we slaves were kept busy scrubbing and polishing the hard stone tiles on our hands and knees, Then they had enjoyed a swim at the cove, before returning to our Masters house, with dusty footwear and clothes. And dirtying the floors so that they needed dutifully scrubbing all over again. 

The Master holding the whip was one of Masters guests, naturally as part of Masters hospitality, we were free for any of His guests to enjoy. This guest had unusually allowed us to look up at His face briefly, before telling us curtly ‘eyes down.’. And I knew I had recognized Him, from an earlier life. I also had thought it unusual that we both had been put in slave panties to serve. We were told to fetch a pair each from the laundry basket, they were still sticky and sex soiled from the previous night. Usually during the day we perform our menial chores  naked except for the tiny mouth veils we always wore. Or if we were serving drinks sometimes in a glossy filmy apron or just nude. sometimes we are permitted filmy clingy very short and very brief slips to wear. Slave silk is very glossy and nearly completely diaphanous. It is also incredibly slippery and distracting, maddening to wear, but feels very nice for Master. It is like being more naked than naked in front of our Masters, but we slaves still cling to any scrap of clothing we might be permitted from time to time. Both adele and this girl were always in pale pink, it suits our blonde hair the Masters tell us. Even the native girls scornfully say it suits blonde bimbos or blow job blondes as we are often called, even though they must perform orally with perfection, on command too.   

Fellatio or at least the sucking kissing part also feels incredible through slave silk for Him. However panties or nether shields as they are called here are a relatively new fashion. And are usually only worn if one of the Masters wishes to gag us with them when He fucks, spanks or whips us. They find it amusing to see us choke on the taste of our helpless need in ecstatic surrender to them, or under punishment. And my panties were very soaked now, with fright and shamed sexual arousal, to be so thoroughly and casually dominated and humiliated by His will.

And I did recognize Him very well indeed, although He himself showed not the slightest  sign of recognizing me or my fellow slave. I remember Him from my former now distant life. When He had come into the office for the first time He was so impressively masculine. I had feigned indifference or disinterest then, but He had seemed so confident and manly I had squirmed in my chair a little. He had actually sniffed the air & smiled at me, as if amused.  Had He noticed, did He hear, or more embarrassingly smell my tiny squelch. I also remember the other blonde secretary in the office watching Him eagerly just like the slut she was.

The other blonde who was now also on her knees, fearfully kissing His whip with me. The next day I had worn my sexiest leather mini skirt and cream silk blouse, unbuttoned carefully to give a glimpse of my black push up bra. But she had also dressed up, in a very sexy black silk shirt and leather mini, with heels to die for. I had gone shopping that night for a new pair of high stiletto heeled anklet booties and a new black very glossy silk blouse. Blondes do look good in black I think. I also wore my little glossy leather jacket the next day. Of course we only dressed up to please ourselves not for a mans attention. But I think I even started to wear my best underwear when we hoped He might be in the office. After that first day though He studiously ignored both of us.  But I did remember one afternoon being called into the office to serve coffee to the director an Him, and as I bent over with the cups I had wondered what it would be like if He had caressed my bottom or even slapped it as I bent over.

“Is something the matter Adele.” The director had even asked

“No Sir, of course not Sir.” I had mumbled as I hurried away trying to cover my blushes.

“Run along then miss adele.” He had said, nobody ever called me miss adele, it was always Miss or Ms Jenkinson, or just my name. The way  He said miss adele seemed very condescending and almost as if He seemed amused by my name.

“Back to your duties, we have important business to discuss.”

“Yes Sir.” I blurted before I could stop myself, but He had already turned away and my director had given me a very curious look.     

But since then He seemed to make every effort to be in the same room as myself and Emily, the other blonde, when we were in the same room performing some task or other. But then also completely ignoring us, or at least so it seemed to both of us,  as we bristled and seethed with competitive jealousy.

Ignoring us that is, until the night when He had woken me in the darkness of my bedroom with two other very manly Men. I had been curtly instructed to get up and put on my best underwear. My dating underwear they had laughed. And to bring them drinks from my fridge.

I was a good girl and only ever sipped wine, but even so kept a few select beers in my fridge, just in case I ever had company. Also although I smoked occasionally I didn’t smoke to excess, nor did I ever exceed my quite strict diet plans, I wanted to keep myself  slim and healthy. I was also very inexperienced sexually, but never would admit that I was actually still a virgin. All the boys at college had seemed just that, boys and so had the boys in the office, until  just recently. I had never even masturbated fully it somehow just didn’t seem right. Although I had sometimes felt my wetness  down there if I was feeling excited, usually after watching a film with my favourite actors. I had even sneaked a little taste once, sucking my slightly wet fingertip, but that had felt a bit too naughty. It was smelly and not very nice to taste either.

Some friends had said I was born after my time, I should have been better suited  to the frigid 50s. When women were obedient and grateful. They had said the same about Emily too. But I wasn’t frigid, I was just shy and selective, I wasn’t waiting for a Man to sweep me off my feet. It was my life, my body & my choice, or so I had told myself until that night.

I was so frightened by Him and His companions that hadn’t dared disobey or even say anything. Until finally I had managed  to whisper, more of a plaintiff whimper in fact.  

“Please what are you going to do to me, please don’t rape me or kill me, take anything you want, please.”

In response they had casually stripped my panties from me and stuffed them into my mouth, as a gag. They seemed amused with this little game as they bound my wrists behind me in the small of my bag and continued with their drinks.

Then they had just marched me out of the door, half naked, I was still wearing my bra and very short chemise slip at this point. Down the service corridor. And past the smirking doorman. The new one who was so big and strong looking and who had always  made me feel quite uncomfortable. Especially that time when He had seen me struggling, with the door with lots of boxes from shopping. I had asked Him to help but He had just said, ‘oh I’m sure you can manage just fine.’ And turned to help someone else. I would have complained but I felt so embarrassed about His tone.  

I was taken around the back of my building, one of the Men had even slapped my bottom to hurry me

up, and I had whimpered into my gag much to the other mens amusement.  I was then bundled into the back of a van. It was very dark inside but I had just time enough, to see several other girls semi naked, bound and gagged  just as I was waiting in the  dark. I saw Emily too and even despite my terror, was glad she was there and that she would be terrified too. The hard leather seating was very uncomfortable and quite slick with our fright, but not with urine or anything worse, even at this point we instinctively knew we didn’t dare to,  but just our hot warm funk.

 

My wrist bindings were awkwardly but firmly secured behind me on some sort of hook, keeping me secure but off balance, and then the door was closed and we were in total darkness. Every so often the door was opened and more semi naked girls were pushed in and locked to the seats, then in the centre between us and then later still some were just pushed kneeling on the floor until the very small van was stuffed full of  terrified girls. I had wondered in the early days how or why our sudden disappearance were not investigated, but emily like myself was on her own or like a lot of girls estranged from her parents and the slavers were very professional and had planned their acquisitions very well. 

Finally at our destination, or rather our embarking point we had been allowed out of the tiny now very cramped van, and stripped totally naked, but kept bound and gagged, kneeling facing the wall as we were ‘processed’. I heard a crack of a whip, the first time I had heard that fearsome sound & one girl squeal in pain into her gag. Apparently she hadn’t been quick or compliant enough. After which we were all very compliant. Processing consisted of simply being examined and probed,  very intimately and rudely, then ungagged and a very large & cold injection in our bottoms. I had just enough time to gasp in shock before the anesthetic darkness swept over me.

We had woken up naked in a large stone room, a locked room with no way to open it from the inside. Not that we dared to try. We were all now facing the wall in silence as we had been instructed to. We all instinctively knew we were somewhere else now. The air smelled and tasted different here, alive almost, fresh and zingy,  completely unpolluted. And the gravity even felt different, somehow very slightly heavier or perhaps slightly lighter even. Not that this sort of thing was ever imparted or discussed with us, and curiosity is unbecoming in a slave girl. We all just knew instinctively, that this situation was inescapable and we were to be obedient and passive. And feminine too, in contrast to the very masculine Men who curtly gave us our instructions.

Much later that day, we were all inspected and  sorted simply by hair colour and led outside the stone room into the warmth of the afternoon. It was very warm and humid but the Men didn’t seem to really notice this, they were drinking cold beer anyway, as they pushed us into a series of leather curtained cages on  wagons. Bound hand and feet, and gagged with a heavy leather gag. There wasn’t much space inside, even less than in the van and we were all crammed bouncing together as the wagon jostled over what was obviously a rough stone road. We couldn’t see of course because the curtain was kept buckled closed from the outside.

The Men were speaking a very foreign language, laughing and joking as they rode along without a care in the world. This initial journey had been for a few days and were just kept bound in the wagon, not allowed to toilet or fed. But somehow although this was distressing and uncomfortable it didn’t seem to have any ill effects on us. At the next destination we were all bound with leather straps and put into horrible leather body hoods that reached down over your head and were buckled closed between and around your thighs. And then the odyssey continued as  transported somewhere else, This took another few days and we arrived at what seemed to be a medium sized town, although we only really saw the auction block and the branding room.  Where we were eventually put on an auction block and sold, to whoever took a fancy to us. There wasn’t any ceremony or even that much of a spectacle, we were just property to be bought and sold. On the auction block we were very rudely examined and had our bottoms soundly slapped. Like babies. Made to blush and put into a series of very sexual poses. It was rudely determined & announced if were white silk, virgin, or not. Apparently this brought a slightly higher price in some markets like this one. Then the bidding started and finished quite quickly. Apparently if it is evident that one Master is particularly interested in a girl the other Men will rib Him with very desultory bids then quickly withdraw. Occasionally there might even be a fight, but that is usually because the Men want to fight anyway.

After we had been sold we were branded as property on our right buttock, a very pretty floral pattern once it healed, it was very painful and I like most girls had wet myself in the smithies. Sometimes slaves are made to lick that up, but fortunately it was a busy day and the urine was just swilled away. The brand is significant because although we were already property and had been since our capture, now we were owned by our Master.

Master had wanted a couple of blondes for His household, and was quite amused when He found out we not only knew each other but had been jealous rivals in our previous lives.  So He named us with each  other names emily for me and she was now adele, feminine earth names are somewhat popular here, although not with the native girls who might also be given such humiliating names.

And He and the other Men often teased us  with our rivalry playing us off against each other until we were nearly or in tears and then having us serve them sexually together. Just as this Master was doing now.

“I think you have both pleaded so well and prettily for the other to be punished that you both deserve to be beaten, isn’t that so slaves.”

“Yes Master, thank you Master.” We had both sobbed in misery.

“But  you may fetch me a drink, for now, and serve it together.”

“Yes Master, thank you Master.”

On our knees we had pressed the drink between our breasts rolling the heavy goblet  lovingly and kissing the rim respectfully before lifting it to Him above our lowered heads.

“Please Master, this girl brings your drink and begs to be permitted to please you with her obedient lips as you are refreshed, Master, thank you Master.”

He had us repeat a few more suggestive phrases until finally He was satisfied He took the heavy goblet from our trembling fingers. And snapped His fingers to instruct to silence.

Later in the afternoon He took us both crawling on all fours in front of Him to His room, placing and securing us together in the small pleasure stocks. Designed to keep one or more girls kneeling face down bottom in the air where she might be whipped or entered  anally or vaginally as He chooses. Or just to detain, or to punish  her for a while. We had all been kept in similar stocks at the auction house for  few days before market day and our sale, kneeling face to the wall gagged. And also in similar stocks in the smithies waiting our turn to be branded.

We were both secured closely together and then gagged with each other warm and thickly slick panties. I heard another female voice behind me speaking to Him. By design & intent  we were unable to turn to see her or Him behind us. She was told to bring another 2 pairs of unwashed still sexually soiled panties from the laundry room and put them on us. We would simmer hotly in the intimately filthy panties soaking them with our own sex and fear, our arousal mingling with the stale arousal of the girl who wore them last night.

The Men found all this highly amusing. It was originally only an import thing and a novelty, but has become very enjoyable for them. Not so for us, the native girls find it demeaning, but we fin it totally humiliating. And it reminds us, so emphatically and emotionally of our capture & being reduced to our proper place, too, which is part of the intention.

He then after musing for a moment also decided to hood us both in the tight closely fitting leather bag hoods, that buckled closed around our necks just under our chins. This also reminded us so much of the horrid transport hoods and also how helpless we were in his bondage, under His command.

Then stepping behind us I heard the swish and crack of the crop in the air as He swiped her then me  with a single but fiercely stinging lash with the crop between our thighs, just one lash but perfectly placed to sting our intimacies and the inner soft point of our bottoms. We squealed and sobbed in pain and misery, muffled by our pantie gags. Then He pushed the whip very lightly upright between my already smarting cheeks. I was to hold it perfectly straight. If I dared to let it slip even a fraction my beating would be at least doubled. She was also given another crop to hold, and the heavy leather curtain was closed around the rack. The curtain would keep the smell and moist heat of sex and fear in the small airless humid enclosure until He opened the curtain  again.

We heard Him showering and fucking the other girl in the shower, her cries and sobs of submission, before she dried Him and was dismissed with  a loud slap on her bottom. With a satisfied chuckle He also left the room, leaving us to simmer for Him.

Much later that night, He returned and whipped us both, still together in the stocks six lashes each first she then I. The thick springy leather crop spreading pain across our bottoms and the tops of our tender thighs. Her squealing into the pantie bag in pain and distress, and me listening whimpering in fearful anticipation and misery. Then it was my turn.  But then another six for her when she was already stinging and smarting as the first six had ripened. And then another awful horrible six for me.

Afterwards we served Him together licking and sucking Him devotedly and obediently. Despite or rather shamefully because He had whipped us so soundly, and we had been found ‘too beautiful not to be whipped’ we were both helplessly wet.

We had served him cold beer and then pleaded to be permitted to placate and please Him, both of us kissing and licking at His fully erect shaft and swollen balls together, just as we had kissed His whip earlier that afternoon, and then just now thanking Him for His firm discipline.

 

 

 

We had squirmed and squelched at His feet, as we begged to please Him. The Masters always say that imported blondes squidge prettily with slave heat after punishment or a spanking prior to fellatio. And the sweet smell,  so strongly with our helpless need to please. But all the girls are constantly hot and desperate to please the Masters.   

 He locked  us both in pleasure cuffs, designed for rape or fellatio whichever He chooses. The rather delicate looking, but totally secure, for slavegirls,  belly chain with its heart shaped links and cuffs at the rear. His doing this so expertly, with no consent on our part, consideration except only what He wanted just as it should always be. Making our already sex soiled panties very sticky and warm indeed.

He gave us permission to begin sucking Him, taking turns taking His swollen glans in our lips, with the other kissing His thick erect shaft. Sometimes the Men like to leave us uncuffed at first so we can massage His shaft with our breasts while we suck. At least until the first splash of precum, before He takes full charge and penetrates us deep into our mouth and at the throat, always all the way deep throat in, for His enjoyment as He fucks our mouth.

He had spurted His precum first into my mouth, but i was made to share this pre taste of his pleasure to cum .

And again after He had penetrated me fully as I choked and spluttered helplessly gagging on His thick manhood, taking turns but He had burst into  my mouth. Filling mine with his thick cum before also filling hers and then blowing&  cascading all over our faces and breasts with His thick sticky bursts. The Men here are well endowed and quite sexually insatiable, with thick sticky cum.

Then after He sat back satisfied for a short while enjoying His drink and watching us choke on His load, waiting to swallow and then thanking Him for being allowed to swallow. He took us both to His bed, but again fucked me first. Gagged with the now very sticky hot panties He had peeled from me. Slave raping me both virginally and anally while she kissed at Him desperately.

I had sobbed so helplessly in His arms as He spurted deep inside me and I succumbed to wave after wave of submissive slave orgasms, while  still helplessly lovingly impaled on Him,  so intimately submissive and obedient for him. Then finished He had lifted me off, I was still having waves of climax, but that was of no import to him.  and had us both lick Him clean.

But for a few moments I had felt so wonderful as my rival kissed and licked Him just as lovingly as I did but she was so desperate. And then  the brute, he had dismissed me back to my cage.

“Back to your kennel now Miss Adel….oh or rather little fucktoy emily.” He laughed.

“Yes Master, thank you Master.” I had sobbed feeling suddenly so used and discarded, as a slave should feel when her Master is finished with her.

“Don’t forget your little panties slave, you can scrub the floors with them tomorrow.” 

“Yes Master, thank you Master.” I sobbed.

He had slapped my bottom as I left.

“Come here adele.” He told my rival.

Outside the room I had fled in tears down to the kennels. The guard had been quite amused but had another slave between His legs, otherwise He might have wanted fellatio for his troubles. I so wanted to please Him then, I was so needy for male attention. Fellatio is especially good after a girl has been fucked then sent back to the kennels apparently. So much so that sometimes the Men get quite competitive for this duty.

For some reason instructions had been given tonight that I was to sleep in the iron belt tonight. The chastity device often used on new slaves before they are first opened, or afterwards often to simmer them. Your wrists are locked in cuffs behind the belt. To ‘prevent a slave feeling and touching what belongs to her owners’ not that a slave girl would ever dare to even try to masturbate, but the position of cuffs and the belt makes her think about her needs and simmer constantly.

Some time later, quite a satisfying short time later adele was sent down to the kennels, dismissed and in tears just as I was still. But to my surprise and absolute horror she was pushed into the tiny kennel with me. It wasn’t my kennel, nothing belonged to us we were possessions, not even our names. We were assigned whatever kennel the guard chose each evening.

She was in the belt too and we had no choice but to wrap ourselves round each other and try to sleep in the tiny space as best we could.

The next day we put to work together, as was so often the case, scrubbing the floor with our panties. But this was especially humiliating, but we were also very contented and obedient. As were all the other girls whenever they served Master or one of His many guests. She even kissed me, and I returned the
kiss in tears. ‘this girl is so glad you are a slavegirl.’ She told me, ‘And this girl is so glad you are too.’ I told her. ‘and we are so glad that He is Master, thank You Master.’ We whispered together.  

He stayed for a few days after that but never spoke to either of us again, no matter how sweetly and pathetically we both said ‘good morning or good afternoon Master’ if He passed us.

Vended

 

I quietly entered the hall, carrying the heavy tray of coffee jug and accompaniments with  a graceful curtsy. Slavegirls must always curtsy when entering a room, where Master or Masters are present. Or if indicated drop to all fours and crawl to kiss Masters feet. As was expected, demanded from slavegirls my service was quick unobtrusive  but always making sure that my cleavage and bottom were jiggling prettily.

I was wearing my the apron i had just been given to wear & was very pleased with the  filmy fabric having been kept nude for my chores for the last month or so since I arrived. Nude except the tiny ‘modesty’ veil that barely covered my mouth and was utterly diaphanous and glossy, that all slave girls  had to wear.

The glossy silk apron was baby pink and matched the colour of my veil, it was also shiny but completely diaphanous too. It barely reached down and covered my intimacies and only just about covered my nipples, the fastening strings under and around my breasts made the apron push up and plump my cleavage for a very comely buxom

appearance. I was very pleased with it and it was the only item of clothing I had ever been permitted here so far. It was much nicer than the one given to my fellow blonde slave, who I shared a kennel or cage with at night. Hers was only a half apron and didn’t cover her breast at all. Although she did have very pretty nipple bells to jiggle. I also had my nipples pierced and ringed with a short chain between the rings. A tiny pretty bell swung freely on the delicate heart shaped links and was also very pretty.

We were not permitted much clothing and never panties or nether shields as they are called here. Except

to wear briefly and then to be gagged with when they are moist and hot with our arousal gagged for sex. Like that distant now memory when I had been taken. The burly Men who had appeared  in my darkened apartment in the middle of  night, waking me in my bed, dragging me from it, stripping me naked.  And forcing me to dress me in my extra lacey silk  underwear, the lingerie I wore for special dates. I was forced to serve them drinks while they lounged on my furniture. All the while sobbing  and pleading, desperate to know what they wanted until  I was stripped off and then gagged with my warm moist panties into a muffled terrified  silence. They had  actually seemed bored  by the whole process of my  capture, and this game seemed to amuse them briefly. After that I had been bundled into a heavy leather transport sack and then all I remember was waking up here, with lots of other frightened naked and very beautiful girls, just like my kennel companion.        

There were actually lots of slave girls here but she and I were new and as well as sharing the  tiny crawlspace kennel with her , we were both what was known as white silk so also wore the iron belt at nights.  The tiny kennel we shared whose gate was only high enough to crawl on all fours slowly and very carefully though. An the kennel itself no higher and tiny and cramped for 1 occupant, holding us both.

There were 3 Men seated around the central coffee/drinks serving  table. I made sure that my posture was graceful and pretty as I knelt at the table. They were all, as most Men are here well but slimly built, lithe and powerful. I always felt very soft and weak in their presence which of course I was. I could imagine being tossed over their shoulders onto their strong chests and being carried like so much struggling baggage, spoils of conquest. I wasn’t not permitted to look above my Masters belt line without permission, but I could  feel their casual observation of my service burning into my lowered head as I poured the coffee and mixed the liqueur into the fortified morning drink. I felt self conscious and flustered and my thighs were slightly moist under my apron already. Could imagine being carried away as their reward.

I was always now excited and wet in the presence of the Masters. They were just so masculine and

dominant and I felt so vulnerable and weak, feminine and submissive in their presence. I had seen other girls hurrying back from serving one or other of the Men. Furtively but not very much so, with a Masters pleasure on their lips, or between their thighs licking their lips or pressing their fingers between squeezed thighs and sucking their fingers, like  cream. I had glanced jealously at them and they had smiled and wiggled at me. Once or twice I had seen one slave give her friend a hot sticky kiss, sharing the thick sticky cream. I had always glanced down embarrassed but very hot, so wanting to be her at that moment.

When I and the other slaves were at our chores, mostly cleaning the hard tiled floor on all fours, one of the Masters might stride though and we would all raise our bottoms slightly and greet Him submissively, usually ignored completely, I might add. But we would all be so wet but also frightened lest He stop and decide to discipline us for some reason with the crop they all seemed to carry about with them. I had only felt a criss cross crack across my raised bottom or my thighs, once or twice and the stern but bored on His part admonishment for me to hurry, or to scrub/polish better.

And I didn’t want to feel it ever gain, let alone be sent to fetch it or worse for a proper beating. Even though I knew I would deserve my punishment and was strangely flattered that a Man such as these a Master, might desire me enough to punish me if I didn’t please Him as much as He expected me to.   Though I very much preferred the thought of being spanked to the thought of the whip on my soft behind. I had seen one of the girls being pulled over a Masters lap and spanked soundly. I had been sent out of the room, but then the girl had left the room slightly later with His pleasure all over her lips and face, she had looked very pleased with herself even though her bottom was still swollen and puffy looking from her spanking.

I knelt before the first Man, Masters guest. I am guessing both of them were guests or strangers but I was not permitted to look up and see their faces.

“Please Master, how may this girl serve your coffee and your pleasure, Master, thank You Master.” I

asked.

“Stand up slave.” He told me

I lowered the jug and stood up with a curtsy, He snapped His fingers and indicated that I should move closer to Him.

He patted my bottom, it was bare from behind and I was as yet unbranded. Later when I was sold into whatever city state I ended up in I would be branded, on one buttock a pretty brand indicating that I was irrevocably now just property. As well as a tiny coin stamped with my owners symbol attached to my clitoris when I was no longer white silk and was also belled there.  Most of the girls in the cages and pens here were as yet unbranded, owned but still unsold to our final Masters.

“That is a very pretty apron slave.”

“Thank You Master.” I whispered quite hoarsely, pathetically flattered by his comments. And ever so pleased with the new apron.

“A little too long maybe slave.” He said, it was very short and only just barely covered my intimacies as long as  I didn’t move too quickly.

“Yes Master, Thank You Master.”

He touched the hem and then sniffed His fingers, I looked down in shame realizing it was damp.”

“Yes a little too modest for a hot little blonde like you.”

“Yes Master, Thank You Master.” I curtsied blushing,

“Strip,” He told me

“Yes Master, Thank You Master.” I didn’t dare disobey, fumbling as I tried to hurry with the apron strings.

“Hurry slave unless you want to taste the whip.”

I suddenly felt all the breath and colour drain out of me at the mention of punishment. Choking with

fright now. Finally what felt like an eternity, but was just an instant  the apron string tugged loose and the apron slipped down. With a quick flash of His hand He caught it very adeptly before it fell to the ground then tossed it to the floor. The quickness of His movement scaring me even more, how easy & casually powerful He was.

He put His finger between my legs, I suddenly realized was very warm and wet there now.

Lifting His fingertip to His nose He sniffed the slickness.

“Now you smell like a  pretty little blonde too slave.”

“Yes Master, Thank You Master.”

He pushed His fingers under my veil into my mouth.

“Suck me clean, slave.”

“Yes Master, Thank You Master.”

“You may look up fucktoy.”

“Yes Master, Thank You Master.” I obeyed meeting His eyes. Even when a slavegirl is allowed to look up for example during fellatio, she really only sees her Masters eyes not really discerning His whole face. He is a person she is not.

I sucked His fingers clean looking deeply into His eyes submissively and seductively as if I was performing fellatio, which I so wanted now with him. And I so wanted to please Him this way now, I could feel my thighs squelching and squidging and knew He could smell and hear me too.

“Now you may serve me coffee slave, extra liqueur,  no honey or sweetener.”  He told me slapping my bottom.

“Yes Master, Thank You Master.” I gasped. The slap was so light, from His perspective but took my breath completely away.

Did I hear Him and the other Men laugh lightly  ? I didn’t dare even  glance up.

He and the other Masters never said a word to me for the rest of the afternoon as I knelt before them,
except to tell me to pour more coffee and how they wanted it.

After they left I tidied the cups and the hall, then was about to rejoin my fellow new slave on all fours scrubbing & polishing the floors.

I was still extremely humiliated and still very wet by His treatment of me. Why did they have to be such beasts I fumed and raged powerlessly of course and very silently lest any of the Masters hears me. I wasn’t looking forward to the night in the kennel in the iron belt with my wrists also locked behind me on the belt. So we couldn’t touch ourselves in that way, even if we dared to think about touching what clearly now didn’t belong to us. But the thick oval shaped bar that went so snugly and intimately between my thighs was always so slick in the mornings and so was that of my companions, we daren’t even meet each other eyes most mornings. And the air in tiny cage or kennel with its heavy leather curtain was so full of the stale waxy smell of our need.

But instead I was led into an area downstairs where several other slaves were already hooded and bagged in the horrid leather transport sacks. They had disks attached to the buckle that closed the sack to identify them. For the briefest of moments I had the satisfaction of
knowing that I had been found pleasing enough to be bought. By Him maybe, the thought aroused me massively and very immediately, but also frightened me, He would be very strict with a little blonde ‘fucktoy’ like me I feared, & hotly hoped. But then realized alongside my sale so had lots of the other girls, and were most likely off to another city and a slave auction. I wondered if my cage companion had been similarly vended too. We hadn’t even been given names yet, pretty or otherwise. But I didn’t have long to think about any of this before my wrists were locked behind me and I was gagged. The heavy leather sack pulled down my head and belly buckling closed between my legs, then the other part of the sack pulled up so I was bent double and properly contained in the sack.

I hadn’t even been fed or permitted to toilet for today and would never  dare soil the sack, no matter how desperate would be to pee or how long we had to wait. Although we would never dare soil ourselves, implied in their harsh  treatment of us as transported goods.  That any girl who did so would be severely punished or simply tossed over the side of a transport barge. Nonetheless the sacks when opened would be slick with our fear and arousal too. Being placed into the sacks which were rarely cleaned felt so clammy from the previous
occupant too. It was so humiliating and embarrassing thinking that the next girl would be in your helpless stink too.

My own sack was tagged I assumed then we were all tossed casually into a wagon with the other sold slaves, for transport. The slavers were laughing and joking so casually as they worked, how I hated them,

They were such beasts and how I now ached and longed hotly so to be owned by a such a strict beastly  Master.   

 

A raid

 

The wagon had stopped with a jolt. In the total darkness of the covered cage the cargo waited in frightened anticipation. We were the cargo, all bound in thick leather cuffs hand and foot, wrists pinned and held firmly  in the small of our backs. Ankles locked together and strapped to our upper thighs. We were all gagged with short but very stout cock shaped gags. The devices were all locked there was no escape from any of them. The slave wagon cage with its thick leather cover and curtains was in total darkness. Sticky with heat, the humid smell of our sex and fear. Sometime we were kept hooded and sometimes we were kept in thick leather sacks, this seemed to depend on the mood and whims of the Men who were transporting us. There was no possibility of escape, whenever and wherever we stopped it was quite plain  we were just slavegirls  and also quite evident there was nowhere to run to escape to.

But the Men liked to keep us bound in strict bondage, we were just merchandise. In addition we imported girls, very pale creamy skinned girls from earth, were kept out of the sun as much as possible. Our creamy skin that blushes and flushes so easily when were are sexually aroused is quite the selling point and also a matter of great amusement both to the Men and the other slavegirls too. So even if the wagon stopped during the daytime it was one of the slightly darker skinned girls who was released to make food and drink for the Men. She would often be pushed back into the cage bound again, sticky and soiled from pleasuring the Men while they relaxed.

But today seemed different. There was angry aggressive male shouting from outside the wagon. And all the girls, even gagged as they were whimpered fearfully and squirmed, totally captive in our leather straps. We were being raided and the Men were fighting there was the sound of metal weapons clashing and angry desperate shouts.

This happened periodically along this route there were several hot spots for raiders, and talking to the

more experienced girls it was not uncommon for caravans to be raided for property and slaves to change hands violently. Most this was done peacefully, a bribe or wayfarer  tax was paid and the caravan continued on its way, but sometimes pillage and then often rape was the order of the day.

We had been stopped quite a few times on this route already, the journey from north to south was usually a month and a half. And often was either by road along the coast, as in our case of by sea, though that was quicker it had its own hazards of piracy.

Each time we stopped in this way there was often angry shouting and sometimes occasional violence, before the tax was paid or sometimes impudent raiders backed off seeing they were outnumbered.

We slaves would wait in terror, nearly wetting ourselves with fright. Of course we never did dare wet

ourselves  or to toilet without permission. All of us had faced the humiliation of involuntary discharge, often the first time we had been put on the auction blocks or examined intimately by rough scary looking slave traders. And then the inevitable whipping and the punishment of having your face pushed into the toilet bucket and having to gulp down as much of the slushy mixed urine and faeces as you could, so as to be able to breath again. Needless to say you never dared pee without permission again. The Masters here are very quick to punish and the punishments are dreadfully effective.

But we were in terror and the sensation of nearly wetting ourselves, made that terror even more intense. Listening to the clashes outside the curtain the angry shouts. Totally powerless, and subject to the Men who owned us. And the fact that they weren’t fighting over us as desirable women, but as merchandise and property was even more humiliating.

Then more angry shouts and it was finished, there was the sounds of footsteps and horses departing. Either the raiders had won or our current owners. It didn’t really matter to us, there was no prospect of release or rescue for any of the slavegirls.

The curtain was opened and several of us were ordered pulled out of the cage including me. The curtain closed again. Looking at the Men even though were rarely permitted to raise our gaze above their belts I could tell that it seemed on this occasion we had not changed hands.

And on this occasion as on the other occasions adrenaline was still running high. Some of the girls were pushed onto all fours still gagged and bound and raped by the Men in turn. I and two of the other girls were told to serve wine and cold food to the Men. Then afterwards we knelt at their feet licking them clean after they had finished gang banging the other girls. They were left kneeling bound in case someone wanted to enjoy them again. After I had licked the Men clean they were inevitably still aroused and hyper and wanted fellatio, quicker and rougher than usual. Quickly moving on from licking and kissing to a thrusting deep throating and gagging spluttering face fuck.

It always seemed so incredible that they managed to cum so much and so often no matter how frequently they wanted to enjoy sex. After the first Master had cum and allowed me to swallow, leaving my face and face veil, my breasts covered in His sticky cum. I was naked apart from the slave veil. Mostly the only other clothing were given was a tiny filmy diaphanous apron. Very rarely panties although sometimes it amused the Masters to gag us with our panties, for sex or punishment.

After I had swallowed the first Masters cum I was called to the next Man then a third and a fourth. The

other serving girls were equally intimately employed. There was only 5 Men but they all wanted to fuck the girls and be sucked in turn by us. Then when they were finally finished we served more wine. The other girls were bound again and put in close fitting leather bag hoods, and pushed back into the wagon. I was too but then one of the Men changed His mind and pushed me down to fuck me anally, and the other Masters joined in too, slapping my bottom loudly when they had finished and I was pushed back into the wagon sticky and stinking of sex now. We were all wet and vulnerable with the need to be pleasing to our Masters now.

We set off again. From the laughter of the Masters they seemed quite pleased with themselves. The next stop this afternoon slightly delayed now was a trading post, and the interlude and our highly aroused state of sex and fear  would make us that much more tradeable.

Because we were all hooded now we would crawl, just on our knees from the cage and then hurry blindly to the auction stage or block, squealing with pain and fright as the Masters hurried us along with their springy crops. Then wait still hooded and gagged until it was our turn to be displayed, rudely examined and maybe traded.

Those of us sold would be branded by our new owners that afternoon and opened for their pleasure that
evening. Those of not sold would be back in the wagon for the next trading post. We would be punished for not being pleasing enough to be sold by not being permitted to toilet that evening and being left hooded and gagged in the sticky humid wagon until the next time we stopped.

We all desperately hoped to be sold and all desperately wanted not to be sold, we were utterly at the mercy of our Masters.