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
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.
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.
