Something submissive from a very hot & squirmy girl today

Master calls you over. Often with a click of his fingers, or perhaps he will stop you while you are passing. Patting your bottom firmly. Sometimes lifting back of your slip with his hand and probing your wet thighs with his finger. We are always hot & wet for our Masters, but being stopped & examined like this we feel immeasurably wetter and hotter. Often this is done from behind, as it increases your vulnerability. Commonly we wont be permitted to look up into his eyes while he does this. His finger will be coated with your arousal while he opens your labial lips and probes your very hard erect clitoris. Then he will lift the soiled finger to your lips to suck it clean. He might put you on all fours at his feet for this. & he might if interested, but not necessarily so, lift your eyes to his as you suck his finger. The choice is his. Sometimes as he probes you he will permit you to clutch at his arm, possibly kissing his muscles, while you moan helplessly penetrated by his finger. . Then he will decide whether to detain you further or to dismiss you, to squelch wetly back to your chores. & you will squelch back to your chores, so hot and distracted you will yelp loudly as he slaps your bottom.

Or he might stop you at your chores, while you are nude on all fours scrubbing the stone tiles. Long blonde hair loose and constantly maddeningly falling around your face as you work. On all fours with your bottom in the air, swinging your hips prettily, so that the tiny heart shaped bell in your clitoris rings out sweetly as you work. If two or more girls are working together we swing our hips in unison. & even the casual observer can clearly see the desperate tight little grinding motion of our thighs. Squeezing tightly, needfully. Crouching down besides and probing you as you work. He may let you stop working  while he touches you, or he may not. He may simply part your labia and press his thumb firmly to your clitoris, forcing you to rub hotly to his hands. Or he may press his finger deep inside you, letting you grind on his finger for his pleasure. He may then decide to select you, or he may just slap your bottom and curtly instruct you to continue your chores. Sometimes he may bracelet you on your knees while he does this, increasing your helplessness to his inspection. Making you sob with your desire and need to serve him. & if he doesn’t select you, you may be left still braceleted to continue your chores holding the scrubbing brush between your lips for the rest of the day.

If he is interested he will then usually send you to fetch him a drink with a coin in your lips, or in your cleavage, and sometimes held, or rather clutched tightly between your buttocks. Never in your hands, slavegirls are not permitted to hold & sully money. You must then make your way to the servery. The Master there in charge of the drinks will be aware of your state of excitement. He will casually have you wait anxiously before he sees fit to even notice your presence. There is a certain skill in handling tavern slaves. Making us wait anxious and increasingly fearful of keeping the seated Master waiting. Whilst naturally the drink keeper will not keep the customer waiting. Just long enough to increase our breathless excitement & vulnerability. When he finally takes the coin and gives you your Masters drink. For you to carry deferentially in both hands clutched to your heaving bosom. He will slap your bottom firmly & loudly instructing you not to dally and hurry back to the waiting Master.

‘Yes Master thank you Master.’ You whimper, to the brute, submissively, gratefully.

Hurrying back to & kneeling before the Master you raise the cup or glass across your belly, rolling it softly  between the swelling of your breasts. And lowering your lips & kissing the rim lovingly and reverently, kissing his cup. Hot & trembling, feeling incredibly submissive as you lift the vessel above your bowed head to him. He will keep you waiting, not worthy of his attention, till he sees fit. Simply a vessel for his service & if he pleases his sexual enjoyment. Then as your arms are aching he will permit you to speak to proffer the drink & your intimate service to him. Begging to be permitted to please him while he enjoys his drink. For him to enjoy your lips, your intimate loving service. Supplicating squirming on your knees holding his drink out to him. He will make you beg and plead in intimate & luridly sensual detail, till you are blushing flushed scarlet with slutty embarrassment. Then when he is finally satisfied he will take it from your hands. Your fingertips electrified where his strong hands brush against yours. You slowly lower your hands, desperately wanting to touch him, to stray as they flutter down past his legs, but not daring to touch him without permission. First to rest palm upwards on your thighs then crossed behind your back as if bound. You keep your gaze submissively below his belt, listening attentively as he takes the first gulp of his beer. Then he will decide whether to enjoy your intimate services or dismiss you. After all there are lots of pretty girls in the tavern for his enjoyment.

He then calls you closer, between his knees, or has you stand between his knees, while he fondles you. The Masters enjoy playing with your breasts, teasing your nipples. Squeezing and rolling them till they are so painfully hard and fantastically sensitive. My ample breasts are not overly large, but in his hands they feel huge & swollen like balloons. I so love being and feeling so full in his hands like this. The bells on my nipples ringing out joyfully to him. The filmy silk of my slip stretched & taut on my curves. Feeling like I am burning and melting as he touches me.  

Then he pulls me down across his knees. He is going to spank me. I can already feel his erection under his tunic hard on my body, near my belly. He holds me down one strong hand holding both my wrists behind me, at the small of my back. Pinning me down, as he draws his other hand back. The men seemingly love to spank me and the other blondes. They find it enjoyable and quite appropriate. More so than the girls with darker hair. The other girls giggle at us, teasingly calling us spanking bimbos, but I know they are secretly & sometimes not so secretly jealous. I’ve seen the looks they give us when we are squealing under a Masters firm hands. And on more than one occasion have lain in the overnight cage with other girls squirming hotly with need, not being chosen that night. Whispered, tearful confessions.  

Generally he will spank me about 10 times, or till he is sated or till I am squealing and sobbing with arousal and the heated smarting of my rear. This most intimate of discipline, is so lovely and submissive. I feel so wonderfully vulnerable. So ready to loving & obedient. It also reminds us wonderfully that we are subject to his sterner disciplines and uncompromising punishments. He wont hesitate to whip us if we are not as pleasing as he thinks we should be.

If it’s the evening I will be wearing my pleasure slip, a glossy and utterly diaphanous baby doll slip. During the day if we are serving, running  fetching drink and food for the men, we are clad in silk aprons. Equally glossy and transparent, completely open backed and very short. Its general purpose is to lift the breasts so they bounce prettily as we run fetching and carrying. But also because it looks so sexually submissive and menial. If we are performing our normal chores. For the blondes like me these are the more menial chores scrubbing the floors on all fours. We are kept naked, apart from the tiny silken mouth veils we always wear.   

& if it the evening & am wearing the pleasure slip it feels so incredibly arousing to be spanked through the slippery silk. It stings and smarts so much. Then after the first few slaps to have it lifted exposing our bare bottoms to his hand. Sometimes we are given tiny slave panties as & when it pleases the men. These get so wet and sticky, containing & amplifying our heat. & the men like to gag us with them, if they spank us or rape us, our muffled distressed cries so pretty and helpless for their pleasures.

Tonight though my bottom is bare and he spanks me soundly, holding me down firmly as I squeal and struggle helplessly. One of the men at another table laughing at my cries. He finishes and puts me down on the floor between his knees. He lifts my tearful eyes to his. I am so hot now, I can hear myself squelching between his knees and he can too & smell my arousal. My bottom is stinging hotly as I thank him for disciplining me. He lifts his hand to my lips & I lick my sticky wetness from his fingers lovingly and obediently.

His eyes are smiling indulgently as he tells me, the pleasure was all his. ‘Yes Master, thank you Master.’ I whimper. Sometimes at this point he will take the whip hanging from beside his chair and press the fearfully well worn blade to my lips to kiss. On this occasion though he simply let his hand stray to the top of handle. He watched my eyes as they followed his hand, noting my tiny gasp of fright, the obedient fear in my eyes. At this most horrid & feared implement of bondage. Unfortunately blondes are not it seems just spanked more but are disciplined more frequently, more strictly and painfully too. But again we secretly and shamefully are excited and flattered by this too. He is strict with us because he expects perfect service from the girl he desires.

He took another  draught of his beer. Then casually lifted back his tunic, His massive erection was already swollen and red. The men here are so very big, he was at least 10 inches & very thick and straight, naturally circumcised in shape, crowned with his swollen, glans and meatus.  Kneeling as I was I was looking up at the head of his phallus and into his eyes. I wanted him inside me so helplessly. I could feel the front on my pink slip was already sticky.

“Master is so hard? “ I whispered.

He didn’t reply as such but reached down and with his hand in my hair at the nape lifting me slightly and pressed my lips to him. Pushing the veil inside my glossy lips with his glans. I sucked him sweetly lovingly. Fellatio through slave silk is deliciously arousing for the Master. Another reason we are kept mouth veiled. Already he was shifting in his chair.

“Yes Master thank you Master. This girl loves you Master” I whispered as I kissed around the sulcus and licked up the frenulum. Tasting & inhaling him lovingly, almost losing myself in worshiping & adoring him. Till he was totally slippery & wet from my mouth. Then I pressed the veil down with my lips and continued to suck him through it, applying a little more gentle force now. I could hear him groaning with pleasure in between gulping his beer. I was so happy I so wanted, more than anything to please him. To give him the best & most loving fellatio I had ever given, to be his best ever blow job. I rose on my knees a little bit more lifting my breasts to his shaft, soaking my slip with the slippery shaft and massaging him up into my eager obedient lips as I sucked & loved him. I could hear him moaning softly as he shifted and stirred in the chair above me. So happy to feel him so distracted by my lips, my thighs so wet and slick for him. Then suddenly he tensed & stiffened and then the hot sticky liquid burst of precum in my mouth. He lifted my lips  from him & looked into my eyes. My eyes begging him to enter me to take me, to rape me, make me submit to him totally.

‘Oh Master, Master.’ I whimpered helplessly as he took my wrists behind my back and locked then helplessly in the love bracelets. Pretty little steel cuffs with heart shaped links between them, they were very pretty and delicate but more than implacably strong enough to hold a slavegirls wrists.

I looked up lost in his eyes, then with his hand in the nape of my neck he slowly pushed inside my lips, brushing past the now sodden veil and pulled me down on him. Filling my mouth. Steadily & slowly but surely till he was fully inside me. The head of his penis at the back of my mouth, almost choking me. My face and lips almost buried in groin, in his quite short pubic hair. His hand forceful but still gentle as he kept me firmly in place. As I sucked him back and forth inside him, he pushed back strongly pushing and pressing at the back of my mouth insistently.

“Nice and slowly now slave” He told me.

Matching his rhythm as he pressed back into my mouth I sucked him back then slightly out, so that his hand in the nape of my neck would press him deeply back inside me. As he pushed back strongly the massive bulge of his engorged glans, at the back of my mouth  would gag and threaten to nearly choke me. But I loved him and him holding me like this. Totally losing myself in sucking and loving him utterly rapturous, pleasing him. My thighs were squelching so loudly now, anybody nearby would hear and smell me as I squirmed between his knees. I felt so connected to him, rooted inside me with his massive powerful erection as it throbbed alive in my mouth. Totally obedient & loving for my complete Master. Then feeling myself melt and my body swim around him, like a stick stirring in thick paint. In heated fervent rapturous worship. Burning and melting till I was absorbed somehow through his manhood & inside him. I was with him, was his pleasure as it throbbed and grew, more & more powerfully overwhelming and urgent, unstoppable. As I felt his climax mounting I felt I was coming too, coming as his pleasure, for his pleasure.

Then his fist clenched in my hair and exploded in my mouth, cumming powerfully. Filling my mouth with thick sticky seed, pumping over and over again. As he had cum that very first spasm of his pleasure, I was again the hot obedient slave at his feet, pleasing him. He had cum, I was still helplessly wet & hot for him. Only he had cum taking my pleasure for his own enjoyment, as was totally his right. He filled my mouth. So thick and sticky almost not a liquid. And in such spasms, each ejaculation like an explosion or an eruption inside me. Then he pulled my lips from him & came strongly, powerfully into my face. Down my slip down my cleavage, even on my thighs. Thick hot sticky globs of cum. The men here cum so very much and so fiercely. Then when he was satisfied still pumping he pushed himself back in my already very full mouth and pumped again and again till he was totally spent.

He withdrew again and sat back resting his hand on my head. My veil now was totally sticky & plastered around my face and nose, it barely moved  as I struggled to breathe through my nostrils. My mouth was so full & it was so thick and redolent. He was drinking his beer, gasping with pleasure.

Then after what felt like an eternity he looked down and lifted my eyes to his.

“You may swallow emily.”

I gulped slowly, so he could enjoy watching me swallow lovingly.

After four or so gulps my mouth was just barely free enough to speak, I whimpered weakly , spluttering slightly into my veil.

“Thank you Master,”

 “This girl loves you Master”

 “Did emily please you Master ?.”

I whispered in between thick sticky gulps through my equally sticky lips.

He didn’t reply just watched me as he drank his beer.

He reached down and unlocked my bracelets.

“You may fetch a liqueur & clean me girl.”

“Yes Master, thank you Master.”

If Master is feeling indulgent and kindly he will permit a girl to fetch him the post fellatio liqueur and cleaning towels. The little short drink enhances his warm post orgasm afterglow. Magnifying his enjoyment and relaxation. He will drink it while you lick him clean and often it makes him ejaculate briefly again into your face as you clean him. I loved to clean Master after fellatio. Feeling so vulnerable and helpless, so emotional, wanting to kneel before him obediently, for ever. & then wanting him to send me to the alcoves and rape me.

To my absolute & totally glorious shame I wanted him to take me to the alcove and rape me front and rear. Anally rape without mercy, even though it was always uncomfortable and often painful I would cum and surrender so utterly helplessly to him, sobbing, yielding, my face pushed down into the rape mat. Before I was captured and sold into bondage I could barely imagine fellatio as so gloriously submissive and lovingly adoring, let alone swallowing him so gratefully. Likewise him forcing me so demandingly as he pushed inside my bottom, something I would never have considered doing or enjoying with such abandon. We are such emotional creatures and enslaved by our emotions as much as we are by the bondage our strong uncompromising Masters.  

He came suddenly in my face again as he swallowed the liqueur. A thick sticky violent involuntary spurt of pleasure.  Not just surprised I squealed happily. But also because I knew it would please him. He patted the top of my head indulgently. I looked up at him lovingly, his loving bimbo. Still covered in his sticky lust. Then after I had licked him clean, I moistened the towels and cleaned him again, with the scented cooling oils. He was softening now as I kissed him lovingly, one more time before replacing his tunic.

Then after I had tidied away the cleaning bowl & towels he sent me for another beer. As he took the drink from my fingers I so wanted to stay at his feet. For him to bracelet me again, to take me to the alcoves. But he lifted me to my feet between his open knees and patted my bottom.

“Run along now emily.”

I looked up at him tearfully

“Yes Master, thank you Master, emily loves you Master.”

“Good girl.”

“Yes Master thank you Master.”

He slapped my bottom firmly, loudly, startling me, I squealed. He laughed, as did a man at a nearby table. I blushed hotly.

“Yes Master thank you Master.”

In tears I hurried back to the slave area. One of the tavern Masters hurrying me along with another firm slap, I jiggled my breasts prettily as I hurried to the tiny area at the back of the tavern, with the mirrors for kneeling at and the cosmetics. One of the tavern Masters, sat there drinking beer & smoking watching me.  There I removed my slip & veil licked them clean. And running my hands on my body then licking my fingers clean. I suppose I should have been grateful for the opportunity to clean myself. At the end of the evening if we haven’t been taken to the alcoves for the night we are simply braceleted & ankleted and pushed into the small leather curtained cage with the other squirming slaves. Still sticky & in tears, not chosen. But I wasn’t I wanted to have him on my body, on my face, on my clothes, loving the smell, the taste the memory of him. But grateful or not I quickly & obediently tidied my make up and hair. My gaze frequently straying to the long and viciously supple slave whip hanging from the wall, as if to hasten me, which it did. I was quite breathless when I had done. Then sprayed myself liberally with the cheap but sensuous tavern perfume.

The tavern Master who had been watching me said as I was finishing.

“Hurry up slut, lots more customers tonight.”

My heart leaping into my throat, a sudden pang of choking fear. Had I dallied to long? Would I be punished?.  

“Yes Master thank you Master.” I said anxiously, quite weakly.

But he didn’t punish me, or admonish me an further. He simply took my arms and pushed me back out into the busy tavern, with a slap for good measure. Furtively glancing back to where my Master had been seated before. I noted the table was now vacant. He had already finished his beer & left the tavern, or taken another girl to the alcoves. Or more likely gone to another tavern or home to his quarters & his own personal slaves. My eyes stung for a moment welling with jealous humiliated tears. Then remembering the slave whip I hurried on with my duties.

 Jiggling and bouncing my breasts and bottom about trying to look pretty as I cleaned tables and carried away empty glasses & plates. Leaning over them, lifting my skirt about my bottom, And showing my cleavage to anyone who wanted to see. Whilst still being unobtrusive & effacing as I served.

Then as I leaned over another table, my breasts nearly spilling out of the thin glossy  slip, eagerly polishing the table. I felt a stinging slap across the backs of my exposed thighs & an amused  chuckle at my squealing yelp.

“Come here little bimbo. “

“Yes Master, thank you Master.”

I whispered hotly, already feeling myself squelch wetly as I hurried to obey another tavern customer.

01 First day: 21 new slavegirls for transportation

I woke up, lying uncomfortably on the cool stone floor. I looked around quite numbly, my whole body felt strangely relaxed. For a few seconds I felt quite weak, but then my muscles started to firm up. I sat up, brushing my long blonde hair back behind my ears as best I could. Where were my clothes ?. Where were my bags ?. In fact where was I ?. I slowly remembered the contract. I was being paid a not inconsiderable sum to come here & chronicle a place called Gor. A world known only by rumour and fantasy. Where men were dominant & the women submissive and happy. It sounded disturbing, perverted, but intriguing. Apparently, or is that allegedly,  the women who came here were happy & fulfilled. Although I suspect the men would say that wouldn’t they. Nonetheless I had been given my first and very lucrative journalism assignment. To write an account of this place from a womans  perspective. The perspective of a modern woman. I was a student on earth so this assignment was very appealing. Frankly I had felt privileged to be asked. And the men who approached me, had been very charming and ruggedly handsome. Strangely I had felt vulnerable and safe with them,  complimented by the fact that they evidently found me attractive and intelligent. The prospective adventure, and the money were too much too refuse.      

I had been whisked away in a limousine to a secret location & transported through one of the ‘doorways’ as they were called. That was the last thing I remember before waking up here. I looked round the small room. It was totally devoid of furniture, or windows Even the heavy wooden door was difficult to make out at first. So well fitting was it to the walls. Also it had no handle on this side, or keyhole. It felt like a cell. It had been hinted to me that under special circumstances women were selected for their suitability, if not their initial willingness to be brought here. Although later they would accept their circumstances. It had sounded awfully like kidnapping to me. The men assured me they would never consider kidnapping those they considered free persons. What they didn’t tell me, was that women were not considered persons, legally, morally. or innately, nor ever deserving of being considered any of the above or free. 

I looked around the bare room. The stone floor was not as bare & undecorated as it first appeared. In fact the stone tiles & the bare stone walls were faintly & very skilfully &  delicately engraved with erotic scenes. Women were being ravished, seemingly branded, whipped, in all the scenes. The stone illustrations seemed to come to life more as you touched them than as you looked at them, they were highly sensuous. I became quite distracted & I must admit a little excited looking & touching the endless scenes.

I was soon disturbed by the faint sounds emanating from outside my little room. Muffled but obvious sounds of females in distress. Then a loud snapping sound, like leather, leather on flesh. Then squeals of pain, and fright, terrified fright. Male voices, angry, impatient. Then female voices, frightened, uncertain, obedient. Was that the sound of a whip?. Then silence for a while. Then more male voices, laughing and confident. Then orders again, and then the muffled sounds of squealing, pain. Quite obviously female voices, fearful, in pain. Then more loud snapping and muffled suppressed choked back cries.

I lay there wondering what was happening. Wondering why I had come here. What was I doing here. Feeling quite small & frightened now. Then as if to make matters worse the light suddenly went out & I was plunged into complete darkness. I curled up by a wall and listened. I could the sound of shuffling and slapping outside. Then quiet again. & now  there were only male voices now, talking and laughing. Then snoring.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew was blinking looking up at the open door and the man standing, well I should say filling the small doorway. He was holding what looked like a short bullwhip and was looking at me quite impatiently. I had never seen a man built quite like Him. So slender but so well built, like an athlete or a warrior. He exuded male presence and power. He snapped His fingers and said something curtly to me. I didn’t understand. He strode towards me and involuntarily I rose to my feet, quite apprehensive.

He took me by the shoulders and pushed me outside into a stone hallway. I didn’t dare resist. As if to hurry me He slapped me roughly across my bare bottom & snapped his fingers behind me to hurry me along. I didn’t dare object. As I hurried obediently, trotting along, my bare breasts bouncing up and down, I realized that this was not a place where women disobeyed men, or kept men waiting. He patted me on my bottom as if in reward & to keep me moving forward.

Outside in the early morning light there were 3 other men waiting & a wagon, already hooked up to horses. On the wagon were two low small cages. In one cage I could see crammed inside, about 20 women, in full thick leather body hoods. Furthermore their legs, well their ankles were strapped together and strapped to their upper thighs, keeping them quite immobile. Even tightly bound & hooded as they were I could see they were terrified. Quite understandably so, most had been woken in their beds, bound and gagged and locked & transported to the ‘doorway’ in the trunk of a car. Now in a strange place & handled like livestock, examined so rudely, by such powerful men. They could have little doubt of their fate. 

The men left me standing there, talking amongst themselves. One of the men took a step towards me leeringly. I cringed frightened. But the other men stopped him, laughing. I found myself pushed into the 2^nd empty cage. The gate was locked behind me. It was tiny, all I could do was curl up. It was far too small too straighten myself out, or kneel upright in. it seemed way too small for one person never mind 20. nonetheless I was very, very grateful not to be in the other cage. A leather curtain, or cover was pulled over the other cage and buckled shut. Then to my horror another curtain was pulled over mine, plunging me into darkness. The leather was very smelly, it literally stank of stale fright. I was overcome with fear myself.

“Please.” I called out.

The reply, although I didn’t understand the language left me in no doubt that I was to shut up & to stay shut up. I was quiet.

I lay there & listened to the men drinking coffee & laughing & discussing matters in a language completely alien to me. They seemed in no hurry. The morning was already getting hot when we set off.

The road was quite rough in the unsprung wagon.  To my horror it only got worse, full off ruts and bumps. I was literally bounced about inside the cage. From the other cage I could hear muffled, gagged cries of pain & discomfort. One of the men barked an order to us. & we were silent. The heat inside the curtained cages got worse & worse, sticky heat, & reeking of  fright,  as the day grew hotter & hotter. The men stopped for something to drink & eat. We weren’t allowed out of the cages, just left in the sweltering sun. Then we started off again. We stopped several times & I heard the men drinking & the horses being watered, but no regard was paid to us. Then late in the day we stopped & the wagon was locked in the small courtyard of an inn. Where the men would be staying for the night. We were left in the cages. I was so thirsty and desperate to pee too. But I didn’t dare call out, or draw attention to myself. Nor did I want to pee in the wagon. I just lay there miserable waiting for the morning. Listening to the low muffled moans and whimpers from the other cage. As if to make matters worse the inn was obviously busy and rowdy. I could hear the men drinking and laughing. Smell the delicious aromas of cooking meat, and hear the happy squeals and excited voices of tavern girls serving the men. 

I was woken by the sound of one of the men urinating loudly, by the wagon. Before whistling contentedly as he supervised a girl watering the horses. His voice was loud, still a little groggy, hers was soft and naturally submissive. Then he went back inside for breakfast with his companions. I could still hear the girl tending the horses. She was humming happily as she worked, happy to be allowed out in the sun.  Another dawn and another hot uncomfortable day followed. Finally we reached our destination. I was let out of the cage. The other girls still body hooded, but with their legs free were standing, chained together, by an ankle coffle.

One of the men patted me on my bare bottom as if to lead me away. I followed his lead without demur. Behind me I heard a load crack and a muffled squeal of pain. I didn’t look round to see the red weal developing on the poor unfortunates bare thighs. I just kept going glad to not be one of those girls heading for the sales pens.

I was led into another courtyard. Then through a low stone door down a long corridor & eventually to a small room. Bare & unfurnished again, lacking windows. The one concession to comfort a small square yellow silk cushion, thrown on the hard stone floor. It was intimated to me that I was to kneel on it. I did so. The silk was very slippery, feeling quite scandalous on my bare flesh. Then my escort closed the door behind him & locked me in. The light went off & I was alone in the darkness. All I could do was curl up as best I could on the small cushion & sleep. At least it wasn’t the hard floor & at least for the first time in days I wasn’t being bounced about. I soon dropped off, into a deep sleep full of not particularly specific but very vague & very emotionally, rather than visual  erotic dreams.      

02 Day Two: 2 blonde slaves

I woke up when the light came on. I must confess to being a little surprised at how I had managed to curl myself up so completely on the small cushion. For some unfathomable reason, & despite the last couple of days  I still felt physically very relaxed. I don’t know whether it was the exceptionally clean air. So clean it almost tingled on my senses. Or perhaps the gravity was slightly lower here. I must confess I don’t know. I sat up on the cushion and stretched out. My hair was quite a mess. I started to comb it out with my fingers, fussing a little.

Then I noticed the small bowl of water in the corner. It was tepid & stale but I didn’t care I was so thirsty. Picking it up in both hands and drinking it down thirstily. That brought another anxiety to the fore. The numbness between my legs was wearing off & it started to feel sore and becoming painful. I really needed to pee and to poo, but to urinate more than anything.

Was I expected to go in the corner, surely not. I looked at the little bowl. Could I squat over that somehow. How would I clean myself afterwards?  I realized quite uncomfortably that I was expected to wait, in discomfort. I sat on the cushion still trying to brush my hair & waited. I started to try and make sense of what had happened to me so far. But only succeeded in drifting off into a hazy reverie.

Then it was broken by the sound of the lock being opened. Then the door swung open and a girl stepped in. Carrying a large tray. The door closed & locked behind her. She was quite beautiful and completely nude, except for a tiny veil covering her mouth and some bells that were attached to piercings on her body. She looked about 22 or 23 the same age as me & had long white blonde hair. Straight down her back to her bottom. She looked so lovely and graceful. I fiddled with my hair nervously.

“Hello Mistress, this girl is called lita.” She introduced herself kneeling down besides me.

I was overjoyed she seemed to speak English & with an American accent, halting English but perfectly so, as if she knew the language but had forgotten it. Actually this wasn’t so, she was speaking Gorean, & I was understanding it. The drugs I had been given on earth prior to the transportation were taking effect. The learning process was a simple case of reiteration. Once a Gorean word had been spoken it simply replaced the English one. In fact every time thereafter you tried to use an English word the Gorean word & most importantly the concept & your context within that reality, replaced it seamlessly. With each new word learned I felt radically different to my old self. Different to the men, submissive & feminine, reverent towards  the men the Masters. She could see the awkwardness & discomfort in my eyes.

She looked up at me & smiled comfortingly.

“Do not worry Mistress, there is a lot to learn, but we were all new once.” She said stroking my hair.

I looked into her eyes and she hugged me tightly. I felt my concerns melting away with that embrace. The discomfort & fears of the last few days, just drifting away in her arms. I wondered if the other girls from the wagon were getting such a soft lovely welcome. In my heart I knew they weren’t. I could still hear the loud snap of the whip from yesterday, still hear the muffled squeal, and still taste the fear in my throat from that incident. How glad I was that I wasn’t a slave.

She took pot, really a small bucket from the tray and opened the lid. Then helped me to squat over it. I was surprised to find that I could keep my feet flat on the floor while squatting on my haunches, like a peasant girl. Oh I wanted to pee so bad. I looked up at her waiting for her to look away. When it dawned on me that she wasn’t going to, my body took over. Oh my pee stung and my defecation was quite small and hard, barely anything there at all. Nonetheless I had the satisfying sensation of emptiness and relief. Lita was actually brushing my back and hair with her fingertips soothingly while I went. When I was done she knelt me down &  began sponging me with warm water.

It felt so nice & soothing I just kneeling there, as she bathed me. She was actually kissing me softly in between sponges & humming happily. I felt so relaxed, she was totally guileless & loving. It was actually difficult to describe, I don’t think I had ever met any adult who seemed so lacking in anything remotely resembling ulterior motives, or fawning. She just seemed to want to please and serve me, to the very best of her ability. But she was no child. The way she caressed & kissed me while she cleaned me was so sensuous and quite unsettlingly sexual, left me in doubt of that. She wanted me to enjoy her service as much as she enjoyed it. I felt very uncomfortable with it, but at the same time it felt so natural & lovely.

She began brushing my hair, with long smooth stokes. Then she applied some gloss conditioner, we might as well have been in a salon. My hair had never felt or looked so good. She applied moisturiser to my body, rubbing it in slowly. Then applied some powder and rouge, accenting my nude body. Then my eyes and lips. I was a bit nervous about this, not wanting to be overly made up, I needn’t have worried. Finally she scented me, so I smelt as sweetly as her.

She held up a small mirror for me to examine myself. It was breathtaking. She had one such a fantastic job, so subtle and yet so effective. I had spent lots of money on professional pampering, yet never had I looked and felt so feminine and pretty without it being in any way over the top. To the untrained eye I looked completely natural, but oh so sensual too. I didn’t realise it at the time but women here are rarely permitted to apply their own cosmetics. Rather girls do it in pairs, doing their best to please Masters eye.  

She also had some clothes for me. I wondered what had happened to my bags & my clothing. I had packed quite a few pairs of black slacks and fitted shirts, my normal attire. Quite simple, and just a little bit office professional sexy. I must confess I did like this look & more than liked the cautiously appreciative looks of male friends too. However my baggage wasn’t to be returned to me.

She had a little yellow outfit for me. I don’t think I had ever worn yellow, or least such a lustrous yellow. There were pantaloons, similar in style to harem or capri pants, but quite slim fitting and a small halter neck top that lifted my breasts sweetly, making me seem fuller than I was. The first thing I noticed about the garments was the utter slipperiness of the fabric. I felt like I was wearing them but not wearing them. The way they slid & shimmered across my body, felt more akin to a liquid or jelly on my bare flesh. There were no undergarments provided. The fabric was extremely glossy & metallic feeling like charmeuse but on both sides. The next thing I noticed was the lack of elastic or strings. The garments slid on snugly, then seemed to cling to your curves. Also the cut was extremely snug and small, about 2 sizes too small & tight. The pantaloons very low on the front and rear. And the halter top was quite tiny and low cut on my enhanced cleavage. The fabric was quite inelastic though, there seemed to be no stretch in it at all. Quite uncomfortable as it made you squirm about inside it, without ever getting properly settled. It was so sheeny and distracting against your skin too. & if you ran your fingers over the fabric as it stretched across your curves it felt fantastic on the fingers and quite breathtakingly exciting on your body inside. I felt rather indecent, it felt like some sort of fetish play wear. Or the sort of thing very tarty bimboish girls wore to dance videos.

Nonetheless it was better than being naked. I stood up & walked around trying to get used to the frankly unsettling texture & cut of the clothes. As I moved it felt as if the fabric was sticking to my curves yet was about to slip & fall off at any moment. It wasn’t but it was designed to feel that way. Also despite its lustre the silk was also quite sheer and diaphanous where it stuck to you. I was quite glad that I was blonde & very lightly so all over.

There was another piece to the outfit. Lita beckoned me over & pulled me down to sit. I didn’t notice at the time but she gently resisted any attempt for me to sit cross legged on the cushion, which would have been my natural position given the lack of furnishings. I only realised this later & for very obvious reasons. Instead she knelt me down in front of her so we were facing each other. Me on the cushion and she on the floor. Facing each other & very close. She had a sparkle in her eyes as she held up the tiny yellow mouth veil that matched my outfit. I looked at it slightly aghast for a moment then she reached round and tied it under my hair and behind my ears. With my first intake of breath it slipped inside my lips and out again. The moisture in my breath, caused the veil to wetten and stick to my lips softly. It slipped across my mouth maddeningly with each breath, so much so that that I quite unconsciously tried to breath slowly and not too deeply. In small gasps or pants. I looked up over the veil at her. Her own veil displayed the same behaviour. Yet hers also had a more pronounced indent on her lips, as if it had been regularly pressed inside her mouth.

She noticed me looking at this and blushed and smiled underneath the pink veil. She lifted her finger to my mouth & pressed the veil just a little inside my lips, looking into my eyes, as she parted my lips with the tip of her finger. Then she stopped as it dawned on me what she meant I blushed and had an involuntary spasm of sexual excitement. Her pupils were deeply dilated now, I wondered if mine were too. She reached over and kissed me softly on my lips.

“Mistress Karen is very pretty.”

“Thank you lita” I was quite flustered.

Although she called me Mistress I didn’t in any way feel like a Mistress or her superior. Rather I felt like she was an older sister or more experienced friend, helping and leading a shy friend.

“Please just call me Karen, lita.”

“As you wish Mistre…” She laughed quite happily “Karen.”

Oh how lovely she was, so open and completely without malice. How carefree she seemed. But also so vulnerable. & as I was to find out she was completely vulnerable and her only and supreme care was being obedient & pleasing to her Masters.

I heard the key once more in the lock outside. She got up to leave. I was distraught I didn’t want her to leave, to break this happy spell between us. But she quickly gathered up the things and waved to me before stepping outside. Leaving me alone in the room with my cushion, as the door locked behind her.

I sat on my cushion & cried. Looking around me. the room was quite small & the ceiling was quite low. Little more than a box room. If I lay down flat on my back I could only lie diagonally. Also it had an unseen light source. At least this room was painted, if albeit in a rather garish pastel pink, quite similar in fact to lita’s veil. The floor was tiled and it too was decorated with inlayed murals of women in erotic positions, or being whipped or controlled in various bondage positions. The patterns were very subtle. And on closer inspection the walls were also delicately patterned in this manner. Obviously I didn’t realise this but in times gone by this would have been a pleasure room, containing only a bed and one or two girls, locked in waiting for Master to come.

The light was coming from a delicate grilling high in the wall to high for me to peer into even on tiptoes & it was too flat to get any purchase to  lift yourself up with. In fact the grilling was one way, allowing the occupant, or captive to be observed discreetly & without her knowledge. Though she would always have the sensation of being watched. These were from an earlier time & wives and concubines would be confined in these rooms whenever the Master of the house was likely to call, waiting for him. never knowing if he was to come to this room or another. Until the concubine or concubines heard the turn of the key in the lock or the sounds of lovemaking from another room. These rooms were generally arranged around a central harem area with a small pool where the wives & concubines could gather & pamper each other, with cosmetics hoping to please Master. The whole area could be observed unseen by him. But these arrangements were from a much earlier time & women were much more strictly handled now.

I sat & then knelt and then stretched and fidgeted and fretted. Thinking about lita & when & indeed if she would come back. She was indeed originally from Earth & from America. But would only reveal the scantest of details. And was quite emphatic that she was now Gorean. I imagined her with another 20 girls pressed into a tiny wagon and felt so, so sorry for her, but also a little thrilled and slightly jealous. I don’t think I had ever met anyone so happy & obviously contented with life.

I rolled around some of my new vocabulary inside my head. What was quite disconcerting was that, some of the words were already supplanting my English verbiage. I was only vaguely aware of this process, sort of in the corner of my minds eye but I was definitely aware of some English words & concepts fading & slipping away. This wasn’t just a literary process but also a conceptual process. My ability to describe and experience the environment around me was being shaped. I clung onto the notion that this process was necessary but reversible, when I went home.

There was a strict delimitation or demarcation between female and male words. Female concerns and topics were quite demeaning &  menial and expressed in simple emotional terminology. There was no intellectual abstraction, nor was there any need for it. As the verbiage and experience of women was quite domestic and petty, concerned with pleasing the men. There were no female words for male topics such as business or politics, literature or anything intellectual at all.

The female lexicon was extremely deferential and obedient, utterly pliant and dominated, inferior. The male lexicon where it related to females was one of complete domination and superiority. There was no question that he was to obeyed. Also in all this there was the implicit threat of consequences or punishment for her. & the natural assumption that he was to be totally loved, obeyed & feared. He was to be pleased & she was to please.

Also everything was suffused with sexual meaning. All her waking hours and chores were to be devoted to her Masters pleasure. Even in the tiniest detail she was engaged in foreplay and loving service to him.

For example the word kajira, which is commonly translated as slave girl. Means just that in translation but has no such parallel meaning in Gorean. Being enslaved implies a person who is imbonded, but a kajira or a woman is not considered a person at all. So is in no position to be legally enslaved. In fact she is completely beneath the law, both legally and morally. Rather a kajira is defined as simply a possession for sexual service and male pleasure. There is no question that she is to be owned. Similarly though it is irrelevant in the narrative of a barbarian girl, as we are not bred. A wife is the provider of children, simply that.

Also although lita had been calling me Mistress, there was no such corresponding term. Here it simply meant girl with temporary authority over other slavegirls. Granted solely at Masters discretion and usually for the convenience of having a girl supervise the other girls at their chores. That authority is solely a male concern, women are not deemed worthy of being in control of their own concerns and activities let alone that of others.

I must confess to my chagrin that I was not offended or overly upset by any of this. Rather I found it quite natural and feminine and very romantic. But I had never really felt comfortable trying to compete with the men, rather than boys I had met. And all my sexual experiences had been frankly unsatisfying. I had yearned for an earlier more romantic age where men were more masterful & demanding. Also though I only vaguely suspected it, my new vocabulary was conditioning my emotional and intellectual responses.

The door opened & I had to restrain myself from leaping up and hugging lita when she came into the room. Instead she knelt by me and arranged my legs so that I was kneeling with her. I still hadn’t realised the import of this. She had a small bowl of peeled fruit. Just simple fare, oranges grapes and grapefruit, all peeled perfectly and some pieces of banana and apple. At least they seemed like fruit from Earth. The bowl was quite small, as was the accompanying bowl of water. Also the fruit tasted slightly dry & on closer inspection was a little stale. I didn’t realise how lucky I was to get this.

I resisted the urge to gobble it hungrily. Partly helped by the fact that lita handed me each small piece sparingly. Almost as if I was being fed. The way she held it up to me almost made me want to eat it from her fingers rather than taking it from her with my hands and eating. The portion was really quite small, but my stomach hungrily accepted it. I was left feeling still a little hungry. I had only just began to notice how lithe and slim I felt. I had always been quite thin, but now my waist was getting quite tiny and I was becoming very petite but shapely too. In fact the emptiness in my tummy made me feel at the same time hungry and dependant, but also invigorated.

I did allow her to hold the water bowl for me as I drank & that did indeed feel very nice. She cleaned me when I was finished & kissed me again.

I didn’t want her to leave but she had to go.  

I remained kneeling on the cushion waiting & hoping for her return.             

03 My first meeting with Master: I kneel at his feet

After another lonely hour or so the door opened again. This time the door remained open & lita stepped inside. The man at the door, filling the doorway didn’t. He stood there looking at me quizzically and levelly. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable in my scanty clothing. I had the most uncomfortable thought that it might have been preferable to still be nude rather than be clad in this lustrous but tawdry clothing. As the saying goes slave silk is like being more naked than naked.

He was ruggedly handsome, slim & very well muscled. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him standing there in his clean loose tunic & sandals.

“Come along girls, Karen.” He said quite friendlily, his tone however left no doubt that this wasn’t in any to be considered as a request.

I stood up and lita taking my hand led me out of the door.

He closed and locked the door behind me. the room and corridor outside was quite dimly lit, and obviously unused. I felt like I was being kept in storage.

Standing close to him he was even taller & more powerful. I felt very small & weak standing there watching him locking the door. 

The way he looked at lita was both disconcerting and exciting. He wasn’t discrete at all, openly enjoying the pleasure of a naked slave. Not leering or slyly examining her, but openly musing whether or not to split her legs or her lips and enjoy her intimate service. For her part she was squirming and blushing, jiggling her breasts slightly for him. I realized he was looking at me too & smiling. I looked down at my cleavage blushing and embarrassed. Catching myself inadvertently standing straighter lifting my own breasts in the halter top. Hoping & not hoping that he was looking. Oh how masculine he was, such power. How feminine and weak just being in his presence made me feel. No wonder the girls call him master, what else could they call him.

He reached down and patted lita on her bare bottom, to hurry her along.  As if she would need any incentive to hasten to obey him. She giggled and bubbled quite breathlessly happy. For a moment I was seized with a pang jealousy. Jealousy of his easy manner with lita. I was already very emotional dependant on lita, in love with my mentor. But also I realised with a shock jealous of his hand on lita, wanting it on my bottom too.

As if to oblige he reached over and patted me on the bottom too. A firm pat across my bottom in the thin pantaloons. The silk felt incredible on my behind under his firm hand. Like warm liquid, or gel  as I felt his hand slip across my rear. I heard him chuckle as I blushed.  My embarrassment growing as I felt the heat growing between my thighs contained and amplified in the pantaloons. I suddenly felt so vulnerable and powerless. The pat wasn’t just a sociable gesture, it was a demonstration of his power of his expectation to be obeyed immediately. Just as much as the whip in his belt. I felt patronised & under his control. He could instruct me to do anything and I wouldn’t even dare whisper a demur of protest. The men here naturally exuded power & dominance just as their masculinity seemed to denude it from us completely, making us passive and feeling slightly humiliated by such a simple everyday gestures. We were not equal they were men, Masters & we were female. & I knew just by that simple gesture that I was a women here on this mans world. The realization left me breathless and excited, aroused even at the same time.  

Clearly he had enjoyed touching  my bottom &  he reached out and slapped lita quite firmly this time, more firmly than before, on her bare bottom once more. Loudly and slightly more painfully, no doubt she would be smarting. Her frightened and excited yelp attested to the effect.

He chuckled “Come along girls, Master is waiting, you don’t want to keep him waiting do you girls?”

“No Master of course not Master, thank you Master.” Lita’s voice was both appreciative and self deprecating.

“No Master, thank you Master” I whispered, more throatily than I expected.

Was that another chuckle?. I felt myself blush bright red.

I half expected another pat or slap but he simply set off at a brisk pace down the long corridor. We obediently trotted barefoot behind his slapping leather sandals. Breathless with anxious excitement. This wasn’t a place where men were to be kept waiting. 

For the first time I noticed the short belled chain between lita’s ankles it restricted her stride to about 12 inches, quite a graceful lovely step. I also felt uncomfortable in my slippery pantaloons. They either felt like they were twisting around my bottom or constantly in danger of falling down. I could also only manage to match lita’s steps due to this sensation and the lack of elasticity in the garment. We had to trot along quite breathlessly to keep up with the steward. Lita’s breasts were jiggling prettily as she trotted along. I looked down and saw mine heaving and bobbing prettily in the glossy yellow halter top too. I must admit I was very pleased they looked pretty. It was now so important to me that the men were pleased by my appearance. The atmosphere was so sexually charged. I wondered how the men could keep their hands of the girls. Lita & I positively simpered  for them. As I was starting to realize, they could have us any time they wanted. We were as they say a sure thing. Rather it was us who would have to kneel waiting hoping for their slightest attention.

Down the long corridor then up a flight of stairs into the main portion of the house. It was quite magnificent & airy. Smooth stone walls & wooden panels. Then into the main hall of the house. More stone & wooden panels, decorated with shields, armour & weapons, trophies of past glories. In the hall there was a massive fireplace at one end of the hall. From the climate at the moment I guessed it wasn’t needed at this time of the year. Not realising that this was considered the cool season, in one of the cooler areas of Gor. Alongside the fireplace and along the main wall there was a collection of heavy leather chairs. He was sat in the most central chair waiting for us.

Lita immediately dropped to her knees in front of him waiting with her lips hovering near his feet.

He sat there looking at me. He was a mature man, not old but older than the other men I had accounted here so far. Age hadn’t ravaged him though he was still well built & trim. Tough and powerful looking, like a general, which indeed he had been, and still was when called for.

“You may lita” He said after a few moments.

“Thank you My Master.” She whispered kissing his feet lovingly.

It was such a privilege for his girls to be permitted to be in his presence.

I stood there awkwardly watching. Then he waved her away. She knelt at his feet submissively.

He was now looking into my eyes, instinctively I looked down.

“You may join us.” He said after a moment.

I was unsure what was expected of me & took a step forward towards one of the chairs. I was stopped by a sharp frightened but low gasp from lita. I looked down at her. She had blanched and paled. Looking up briefly I saw that his hand had closed around the handle of a stout looking black leather whip hanging from the side of his chair. Then I saw the cushion besides lita. Feeling quite flustered & embarrassed now I quickly knelt. I was also a little frightened too. Lita obviously was she was trembling.

I wondered was I expected to kiss his feet too.

Kneeling on the floor besides lita, even on my thin cushion, he on his chair seemed to be towering aver us. Looking up all I could really see was his knees. I felt so small and inferior.

“Lita bring me some coffee.” He told her..

“Yes Master.” She whispered obediently.

She rose gracefully & went to fetch him coffee. She returned with a cup in both hands, kneeling at his feet & kissing the rim of his cup, before holding it up to him. he took it without thanking her. It smelt absolutely delicious, I could feel myself salivating . I wasn’t offered any.

“You were called Karen on Earth?” He asked me.

His question took me by surprise, also the way he asked, as if querying my ownership of a name.

“Yes…” I hesitated I was unsure what to call him.

“You may call me Master, karen it will be simpler & is more fitting that way.” He instructed me.

“Yes Master, thank you Master.”

I was surprised how easily the term rolled off my tongue. & surprised by how natural it felt to call him Master. Calling him Master meant absolute obedience to him, accepting his total authority over me, that I was subject to his discipline. I only realised this as it rolled off my tongue for the first time.

“In fact you will call all men here Master”

“Yes Master.” I murmured softly “Thank you Master.”

How utterly servile it felt, but how happy I was to be told, to be put in my place. To have my uncertainty removed by his authority.  

I was to reside in this house, under his protection and guidance. I would not be able to leave the house, without his permission. I was to spend my time with the other slaves. I could ask them anything I wanted. But I was not to interfere with or question their duties or any punishments they were subject to. When he decided it was appropriate I could kneel here in his company and serve with the other girls. Serve both him & any of his guests. I was to be obedient and pleasing at all times. As if I displeased a guest and he wanted to punish me, he wouldn’t interfere with that.

His instruction were very clear & precise. And handed down to me like decrees. I also had the uncomfortable sensation that he felt  he was lowering himself to explain these things to me.

As he spoke 2 other slaves, both brunettes & both nude apart from veil and bells came and brought food for him. Delicious smelling warm freshly backed pastries. I wasn’t offered any. Both girls were very pretty, submissive & evidently very pleased to be in their Masters presence serving him. I wondered how many girls he had in his collection.  The answer was of course as many as he pleased. While one girl held the tray of pastries up for him to select from the other held a small scented bowl of water & a towel. She would discreetly wash his fingertips after each pastry, without distracting him. As he was talking to me it was as if they were not there, they were so effacing.

When he had finished eating he simply waved them away, with his fingers. & they discreetly retreated  with a quiet “Thank you Master” as they faded away.

I was astonished by this. Both girls were utterly gorgeous & on earth men would fawn over & flatter either of them. Here they were treated as nothing by their Master, they would wait for him to notice them if at all. This was so demeaning but somehow  seemed so much more natural, after all they were beautiful for his pleasure & it was solely for his pleasure.

Lita fetched him another cup of coffee.

“I see I have chosen your outfit well, that shade of talender  yellow is very pretty with your hair, it seems most appropriate.”

I blushed, flattered and mollified that he had even noticed.

“Thank you Master”

 “It wasn’t easy finding such modest garments, here.”

I looked down at my breasts nearly heaving out of the halter neck, my nipples quite pert and hard nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric. And the trace of pubic hair quite obvious in the slippery pantaloons. & they were slippery and hot I could barely keep my mind of them I was sure he could smell my excitement

“Thank you Master.” I whispered feeling quite ashamed, of being so happy to be found  pretty by him. In  my appropriate outfit.

He looked away & said offhandedly.

“You may retire now Karen.” He seemed to over emphasise my name quite mockingly.

I was being dismissed.

“Yes Master, thank you Master.” I found myself replying almost simpering, grateful like the other girls for the small amount of attention he had accorded me.

The steward led me out of the room, with a pat on my bottom again. I felt patronised but also comforted by this symbol of ownership of my body. Some girls are hurried along by a leash or the snap of the whip on their thighs. As he opened the door to my quarters, I hesitated. My body waiting and wanting for him to pat me on the bottom to hurry me inside. He chuckled, the brute, and gave me a firmer pat, almost a slap I wondered what it feel like to be spanked by him.

He put his hand under my chin & lifted my eyes to his.

“Be a good girl Miss Karen.”

“Yes Master, thank you Master.” I was blushing.

He released my chin & I quickly looked down. I was startled to his hand on his whip. Then once he was sure I had seen what he wanted me to see he lifted my eyes to his again & smiled. He was obviously enjoying the thought of putting me under his whip. I shivered, not sure if I wanted him to put me under his sexual discipline.

He reached down & kissed me roughly crushing my lips under the silken veil.

“Master, please Master, I feel so confused.”

“Master, please Master, Miss Karen  feels so confused.” He corrected me.

“Yes Master karen Thanks you Master, please Master when will lita be returning?” I was almost in tears at the prospect of being left alone. I wanted lita to return. I wanted him to stay with me. Wanted him to pat my bottom again. To crush my lips with his kiss again.

He closed the door without responding.

I knelt on my cushion & waited.       

04 Lita has been punished, instead of me: Gagged & whipped

Karen spent the rest of the day on her own in the room, her head a swirl of questions & stirring emotions. She wished she had a book or pen & paper, but her luggage was gone, lost apparently. She had the stark room , the equally stark yard & her cushion. She didn’t feel comfortable bathing, in the pool, feeling herself vulnerable potentially overlooked from the lattice. So she knelt & waited.
That evening lita returned, she was gagged, a wide leather strap bucked & padlocked behind her head, pressing a thick leather ball into her mouth. Her buttocks & the backs of her thighs were also bruised & tender. Although very painful exterior bruising soon fades, slave whips are designed not to damage soft skin & flesh, just to punish severely. Although lita still moved gracefully, it was quite clear that her whole rump was smarting & stinging horribly.
Lita had brought more fruit & a bowl of water also the toilet pot. Karen relieved herself & bathed, then lita took the things away. She also took the harem outfit to be washed. No towel was left tonight. Karen realised just after the door locked, that she was still veiled.
She left it on, & lay on the cushion, naked except for her veil, just like a slave. She was weeping as much for lita as her own apprehension, as darkness fell.
In Thanos’s pens another 23 girls were unloaded from the wagons & pushed into the overcrowded cage to wait.

That evening the door opened again & lita came in. She was gagged with a thick ball stuffed into her mouth & secured by a wide strap that covered her lips and upper chin, up to her nostrils. It was buckled tightly closed, & padlocked behind her. It was obviously quite uncomfortable & distressing to wear.

Lita had been crying.

She had been whipped.

The backs of her thighs & buttocks were scored with long tender looking stripes. The flesh around those stripes was puffy and inflamed. It looked horribly painful. As I examined the marks the heat coming off the marks was quite overwhelming it must stung terribly.

I looked into her eyes, she looked down, ashamed.

As she knelt down with the tray I went to sit on my cushion & stopped myself, then knelt. suddenly realizing why lita had been punished. I started to cry.

She actually came over & dried my tears with her fingers, looking concerned into my eyes. We hugged gingerly I held her tightly but careful not to touch her weals.

She had the toilet pot for me. I took off my pantaloons, she also took the halter neck from me, but not my veil. I squatted over the tiny pot. My excretions were extremely light now. I had barely eaten anything. At least my pee was less stinging now. She washed me again. And patted me dry tenderly with a soft towel.

Then she left me alone in my locked room. As if on cue the lights went out. I had no idea what time of day it was, nor even I suppose what day or month it was here. Such things are not considered necessary for women like me to know. I curled up on my cushion, breathing slowly through the slippery veil. As it had not been removed I didn’t dare now take it off myself.

I lay there thinking about lita & how & why she had been punished. I was crying. For a moment I thought it was because I wished that I had been punished, for what was after all my transgression,  instead of her. But I didn’t wish that at all. & I was very glad not to have punished with the whip. I felt ashamed and frightened by that realization. I, not she  thoroughly deserved the whip & was terrified by it. & as such I had learnt another important lesson about my status here.

It was only later that I realized that Lita had been whipped as a lesson for me. As such the whip, even the so called pleasure whips are very painful. They don’t break the skin & the welting or wheal is always subcutaneous, but the throbbing stinging pain can last for days. And although the welts are barely visible after a few hours the punishment area, usually on the backs, the backs of the inner thighs and buttocks, & often between the thighs too. Is left pink & tender, slightly puffy. Even to the casual observer, the girl no matter how hard she tries to move gracefully and prettily, will wince and cringe fearfully at its touch, however slightly in her desire to keep appearance pleasing. Often the Master will exploit this vulnerability, firmly patting her bottom, or even slapping her legs. Enjoying her helplessness. Or if she has been particularly displeasing, whipping her along, while she squeals with pain. Generally in this case she will be tightly gagged, but her squeals are still very pathetic and frightening both for her and the other slaves. The lesson learnt very clearly, men are not to be displeased here.

However as painful a whipping might be, equally frightful is the fear of the whip. If not more so. It is seldom necessary to whip women here. They know to be absolutely obedient, submissive & pleasing. So in general a woman might be punished for the most trivial and capriciously selected misdemeanour. Just because it pleases her Master to punish her and subject her to discipline. This keeps her in a constant and quite piquant  anxiousness and fear of the whip, deliciously vulnerable.

That now included me. I was subject to male dominance and the discipline they imposed as they saw fit on women. Bondage is not just physically being imbonded but the mental and most importantly the emotional bondage. & as much as I feared & resented it I knew I loved it too.

05 More lessons: learning slavegirl etiquette

I woke from dreams where it was I under the whip and not lita. And I couldn’t tell who was holding the whip, Master or the steward, or in fact one of the men who had approached me on Earth. The one who had always worn that sexy leather jacket, & never really spoke much. He whoever it had been had ben standing behind me, as I knelt, bound  on all fours. Pressing the whip to my bottom, firmly pressing it into my flesh. I had wanted to plead & beg for mercy, but I had been thoroughly gagged like lita. Not that my pleas, no matter how pathetic or servile would have made any difference. He would draw the whip back, & then after an agonizing wait I would hear the crack of the whip in he air behind me. then just before it struck I would wake, in the darkness of the room. Only to sob myself back to sleep, miserably worrying about lita & sob myself right back into the dream.

Then the light came on & the door opened. I jumped up & into lita’s arms even before the door had closed fully. I half heard a laughing contemptuous & dismissive comment from the steward as the door closed. I was sobbing & we were soon both sobbing, nude in each other arms.

Still weeping I allowed her to clean me, helping her this time. I insisted on cleaning her too. Cleaning the bruises on her rump. Although the bruising was almost completely faded now, the area around them was pink and puffy. Lita winced at the slightest pressure on them. I kissed the marks very, very softly, feeling very guilty. Lita wouldn’t talk much about the whipping. She was quite adamant she deserved it. She was less than adamant in refuting my claims that I deserved to be punished not her. She was very penitent, as was I.

I made sure I knelt properly. I tried to give lita the cushion, kneeling on the tiles myself. But lita absolutely refused, so we both knelt on the floor together. This made me feel even closer to her. I had such a crush on her, on us.

I had noticed her brands 2 healed marks on her bottom. One a delicate abstract flower, a talender, & the other a small stylized mark indicating her owner.

“Did it hurt?”

“Yes very much so, this girl sobbed, when she saw the second iron being prepared.”

“Does it still hurt, how long did it take to heal?”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore & it took only a few days to seal & heal, but inside I will never forget the hot iron, no girl ever does.”

I then asked a very silly question “Did you object, how do you feel about it now?”

She laughed.

“It often pleases the Masters to impose things on us that we object to. & this girl loves it now”

“Oh…”

“Do you want to touch it?”

I hesitated, so she took my hand and pressed my fingers to the pretty pink scar. It felt very smooth and well done. When she had finished tracing the mark with my fingertips, she lifted my fingers to her lips and kissed them softly. Then with my fingertips still wet from her lips she pressed them to my own bottom, in the branding area. She smiled as I blushed and kissed me.

“this girl thinks yours will be pretty too karen.”

“I hope so too.” I said without thinking “Oh…. what do you mean?”

“This one thinks if you are branded it will be pretty.”

“Oh?”

“Lita thinks you would be a very pretty slavegirl, Mistress Karen.”

I looked at her.

“If you keep up like that you can start referring to me as Mistress permanently again.”

She looked down. I lifted her eyes to mine & whispered furtively.

“Do you really think so?”

“Yes Mistress Karen, lita think a Master would be very pleased with you.”

I hugged her tightly. I wanted to be annoyed & offended but I wasn’t. I looked up nervously at the latticework grilling, were we being watched. I decided that I didn’t at this moment care. I was just so happy to be like this with lita. Vulnerable & open.

After a short while lita told me Master had decided that I should use slave soap on my body. She held up a greasy bar of soap and lathered it in a small bowl of water. She rubbed it all over my body smoothly, spreading the thick suds like oil on my skin. I watched fascinated as my skin started to tingle & my hair started to dissolve. The soap was completely depilated by the soap. Apparently after a few applications the hair never grew back at all. She didn’t wash the suds off instead she let them dry & then brushed me off. My skin was left so soft & smooth & so moisturized. I don’t think I had ever felt so soft and smooth. My skin felt like a babies skin. But also my muscles felt totally relaxed too. The perfume in the soap was quite delicious too. I smelt & felt so smooth & lovely. The sensation was absolutely fantastic, this stuff would be worth a fortune on Earth.

Lita watched smiling as I touched myself all over, mouth agape.

“Master has also decided that you should be belled.”

I looked at her involuntarily hiding my nipples. “Oh?”

I was shocked, but very excited. I didn’t want to show it. Lita had her nipples belled, & navel & her clitoris, but I hadn’t seen this yet. The thing that secretly excited me more than anything though was the belled ankle chain.

She had a sparkle in her eyes as she moved my hands away from my breasts & shushed my false ‘hrrmph’. She put her arms around my waist and attached a single chain around my belly, it closed & locked with a tiny heart shaped padlock. Hanging & swinging freely on the chain was a single bell. I loved it.

But lita couldn’t help  but also see the slight disappointment in my eyes as I looked at her ankle chain. She hugged me again.

“Surely Mistress doesn’t want to be hobbled, like a kajira?” She asked. She was teasing me with the mistress know I knew & I didn’t mind at all, if anything it made me feel even closer & dependant on her.

“No of course not.”

“Lets get you dressed karen”

I was disappointed, I wanted to stay nude like her. But I didn’t want to be disobedient. I didn’t want to be disobedient to Masters wishes. Or to her instructions. So who was the mistress here?

My pantaloons & top were clean and fresh. On my now exceptionally smooth skin, they felt even more slippery and disconcerting I was quite glad to kneel. But lita had other ideas. She wanted to teach me how to kneel properly. How to rise & kneel gracefully & prettily. How to walk. How to keep my eyes always respectfully below Masters belt unless given permission. How to look up if given permission. How to hold a cup or vessel if you were serving Master. How to serve. How to be pretty & open to Master without being distracting to him. how to be completely self effacing. How to be dismissed & to know when you are dismissed. She had me up and down & walking around till I was quite exhausted and flustered. But she kept me going till she was absolutely satisfied. I was very pleased with myself, and that she was pleased with me, by the time we stopped. I didn’t want her, or myself to be punished again.

Then the door opened & lita was summoned away to some other chores. I was so very disappointed to be left behind.

Just after she left I remembered that she hadn’t yet brought food or the toilet bowl yet. However that evening, or I can only assume that evening lita came back with the toilet bowl and some peeled fruit & water for me. She took my outfit away again. I must confess I became very emotional & begged her not to go. But what could she do. After the door was closed the light went out immediately & I sobbed myself to sleep.