On pads of my feet, nearly on tiptoes so as to enter the hall gracefully & quietly, where the Masters were seated enjoying the cooling breeze from the coast. Vulnerable and anxious to be superbly pleasing as a slavegirl should always be, in the presence of her Masters. Always announced by the tiny tinkling sounds of the bells on my nipple chain and on my clitoris piercing, like a belled animal. But also I felt rather than heard the squelching between my wet thighs and the thick sensation & hot aroma of my slave heat.
The Masters though paid me no heed, as holding the heavy tray I curtsied and knelt down gracefully at the small serving table situated at the feet of their chairs. Where I could serve them chilled beer, and roasted meat snacks. On the tray also were bowls of warm scented water, so they could clean their fingers, if they so wished. The loaded tray had been heavy, but that was no concern of theirs. In another part of the hall there were 2 slavegirls, nude on all fours, cleaning the tiled floor. Or rather on their knees only. Their hands were in slave cuffs behind them, held in the small of their backs by a waist chain. Known as love cuffs, often used for fellatio, they are equally suited to menial chores. The links were heart shaped and pretty, delicate even, but far stronger that any slavegirl could even think about breaking. They were naked except for the tiny glossy veils that covered their pretty mouths. Fervently polishing the floor with sex soiled slave panties in their lips And I noticed with satisfaction that my blonde rival was one of the girls, the other was also an imported slave, a fantastic redhead. I was glad to see both of them performing their chores so menially, and although it was so often myself in this position I was glad it was they and not me on this rather hot stuffy day. Both girls were swaying & swinging their bottoms prettily in unison as they worked, so as to be a pleasing site to their Masters. Their tiny clitoris bells just about visible and ringing out sweetly together.
They would be sexually frightened and just as anxious to be pleasing. As I was constantly. They were naked but today I was permitted to wear a pink serving apron. It was tiny and completely diaphanous, lustrous and glossy where it clung to my curves. I was permitted no other clothing or underwear except for my own tiny glossy mouth veil also in pink. The Masters liked to see us at our chores nude, exposed and vulnerable. And if we were permitted a tiny scrap of filmy clothing, which we clung to so gratefully, it was only to enjoy snapping their fingers and telling us to strip, whenever it amused them. Of course we never dared to disobey, but one of the pleasures of owning imported girls is watching that shocked fearful disbelief on our faces as we nonetheless hurried to obey. And sometimes that tiny helpless gesture of futile rage as we clenched our weak fists then hurriedly unclenched them. All the slaves sometimes did this in tiny futile pique.
Similarly with slave ‘panties’ or nether shields. Slavegirls were not previously permitted this type of garment. Until to became rather in fashion, mainly fropm the slavers, and highly pleasing to peel them forcefully from us and stuff them into our mouths gagging us for sex. The Men here are all rather well endowed and enjoy sex, and also enjoy our tight little bottoms as we squeal and moan in humiliated misery. And our muffled cries make this more enjoyable, especially for anal. The native girls find that strange but they also are distressed by anal. Especially when they are gagged by their own soaked panties, like earth girls for sex.
Being gagged like this reminds us of our capture, and also when we once thought we were free and foolishly in any way equal to Men. As during capture we are so often gagged with our panties, they being quite to hand and a good way to silence, humiliate & put us immediately in our place, ready to be bound hand and foot, kidnapped. Our Master once He had found out that I and the other blonde had been rivals on Earth, enjoyed gagging us with each other panties and often had us perform joint fellatio and to dance together arousing each other with our tongues, until they were ready for fellatio or for sex. We were not allowed to climax from each others tongues, of course that pleasure was for them.
I Knelt down gracefully at the table and lifting the heavy tankard of beer, rolled it in my cleavage and kissed the rim before lowering my already bowed head further and proffering it to the first Master.
“Please Master, this slave bring You, Your beer on this warm day and hopes You will find it and her service pleasing and refreshing. And that she may please You with her mouth or further service as You enjoy Your drink, thank You Master.” I whispered.
We were always to be unobtrusive and effacing in their presence. Intimidated, physically, intellectually and sexually, desperately anxious to please, to be found pleasing.
At the slightest gesture, imagined or not of His displeasure, or any male displeasure, I would be trembling and quaking, my naked flanks feeling so very exposed. He could slap my bottom or pull me across His lap to spank my creamy bottom & thighs. And although that highly sexually arousing at first, His hands are always very big and firm on your soft behind. Arousing until that first slap or very firm spank. Or so much worse He might ask you or tell you that perhaps you should be punished with the whip. Casually sending you to fetch the whip, often on all fours holding the whip crossways in your mouth as you return. Just the mention of that fearsome well worn crop, causing you to blanche of all colour and nearly wet yourself with utter fright. You feel suddenly so hot and yet so cold between your nude thighs. Totally stricken with fright, and even your rivals so competitively jealous as they always are, are frightened and appalled by your helplessness.
Yet He threatens and delivers such punishments so imperiously but casually whenever He is displeased or so pleases. Or just has you kneel on all fours kissing and sobbing the whip, to put you instantly in your place, at or rather beneath His feet. After the mere hint or imagined hint of the whip, you are so frightened and obsequiously compliant, as you serve, excruciatingly aware every gesture or inflection in His voice imbued with His total dominance.
As it always should be. After the auction day, my brand still burning and excruciatingly painful as it healed. I had knelt in the slave quarters both I and the other blonde, as a native girl instructed us in applying our cosmetics
“More lip gloss,” said our instructor.
“More eye shadow and blusher.”
“Please miss” We had protested already feeling like whores.
Imported girls and especially blondes must always refer to native girls as miss, even if they are slaves like ourselves.
Surely you would prefer for your Master to see you in terms of His desire and not in terms of discipline,” She told us.
In fact she would relish seeing us or any of her rivals in trouble, as would we all. But she had been tasked with attending to our cosmetics and would be punished just as severely for any failings as we would be. I hadn’t quite noticed the utter fright in Her tone back then, but I knew it oh so well now.
“I am so frightened,” I had whispered watching myself in the mirror,
trembling. “I am afraid to be presented before my Master.”
“An appropriate and suitable fear for a slavegirl,” She had said, almost sympathetically. “It is up to you to see that He finds you pleasing.”
“Yes miss, thank you miss.” I had whispered, hearing my companion echo my words equally frightened as I was.
“And not to be found displeasing, the whip is a very good incentive for slavegirls.”
“Yes miss, thank you miss.” We had chorused together
I was so glad that my rival from the office was here kneeling in the small stone room where the kennels where, sharing my fate, would be tasting the whip, she deserved it so. She was such a tease and bimbo in the office.
The office had, had an old fashioned power dynamic. Although, off course we dressed to please ourselves not for the men, we secretaries and office assistants were eye candy and subtly expected to dress the part. I had enjoyed my little mini skirts especially the leather skirts and tight glossy blouses. Enjoyed walking into a room and seeing without seeing all the eyes on me from all the men. Especially teasing the male office juniors, but also the glances and sometimes rather frank looks from the more superior men in the office. The senior ladies looked at us with disdain, but also jealousy I suspect. How I would enjoy seeing them here if they too were considered ‘too beautiful to be free’ captured and taken in the night, silenced with their own fusty panties stuffed into their mouths. But she and I had always tried to outdo each other, but she was kneeling beside me too.
In fact we were a matching pair in height, curves and hair colour, and had been curated as such. Blondes with that comely golden Saxon blonde look, we would go for a respectable price in the markets, very light golden blonde but not as white haired as the native more Scandinavian looking blonde girls here. Collected curated and captured As had all the girls in the secretary and assistant pool. And the disdainful senior ladies too, bound for the auction block. Although in my terror I had not realised this as during my capture and transport I had been looking down or facing the wall as instructed, obediently. Helplessly frightened and hoping that this was all just a curiously & embarrassingly slightly arousing nightmare. Or that my stern captors would somehow keep all the others but release me. And then after arriving on planet, we tied, or buckled in tight straps gagged and hooded for transport, bound for different towns, markets and auctions. Not so much for the casual bondage slave girls were subject too. But blindfolded or hooded to keep us docile and helpless during transport.
We were often kept in chains or straps and often gagged or hooded, as the Masters saw fit to enjoy us. And at night we were often cuffed in our kennels. Sometimes we wore the iron belt, much like a medieval chastity belt. A plain flat U shaped ring that passed between our thighs and locked to a ring around our waists. This wasn’t to enforce exclusiveness however, just to remind us that even our intimacies were owned and controlled by our Masters. Your wrists would be secured behind your back to on the waist ring. To stop you touching yourselves in the night, the Masters might laugh, knowing that we would never dare masturbate or climax without permission, but being locked & having our wrists secured like this made us feel so hot, simmering they called it.
In fact what was not generally known and certainly not to me, but the slavers locally accomplices on Earth. Who thought after the transport was done, that they would be well rewarded financially and live the life of the Masters after stepping through the quantum transporters, they were pushing the terrified slaves through. But they would also be transformed into slave girls. The transporters work in one direction only. Only native Men, can return as Men, and women can only ever go one way. The male accomplices would have a brief few seconds to realize what had happened as they found themselves transformed into totally blonde bimbos, & quite air headed so. The Masters have no sympathy for them, seeing them as dupes and weaklings for ever allowing earth women such as ourselves to ever believe we were equal to Men and deserving of anything other than menial domesticated, sexual slavery, and of course the whip. Not that, their fate would have been of any comfort, or satisfaction to us if we had known. They were just like us blonde slavegirls heading for the auction block.
How glad I had been to know that my rival was here & that she would be whipped, if she was anything less than totally & perfectly pleasing. I was so smug & glad that is until I realised that her fate would be mine.
And now when I or she entered a room the men would be looking at me openly and as lustfully as they pleased. I would be wiggling my bottom, not in fashionable sexy leather miniskirt, to tease. But wiggling my bottom prettily and anxious to please my Masters. Watching me with open desire, If they so pleased to, that is if they bothered to notice us at all. As we served them frightened and abjectly submissive, not daring in any way to interrupt or disturb them. But under their strict male dominance, hot and wet, aching to please them.
Terrified of the whip and that moment of hot sex & fear. The moment that seemed to stretch on forever and consume you completely with fright. Being told to fetch the whip, or kneeling sobbing covering that stern implacable implement of pain and discipline in kisses. Sobbing and begging to be forgiven for your minor unwitting disobedience or trivial infraction, not to be beaten, for His leniency. Not to spend the rest of the week with your inflamed puffy rump stinging and smarting with pain as the subcutaneous welts and bruises gradually subsided.
I truth we were not beaten often, maybe around once a month, sometimes longer sometimes less. As after your first whipping you would do absolutely anything not to be punished again. But the masters were very strict with us and you could be punished for the tiniest thing if they so pleased. And often if they passed you while you were on busy scrubbing the floor nude all fours they might, swat your behind once or twice, and tell you to hurry up, or tell you, you had missed a speck of dust.
“Yes Master, thank you Master.” You would sob in pain and fright. He might press the tab of the crop between your wet thighs and then have you kiss and lick it clean, as you thanked him.
Yet for Him this and other punishments were nothing, an interlude at most, unimportant. You would be punished if He chose to punish you. Or not as He saw fit.
But how we squirmed and squelched needily, under their strict dominance. A submissive female under uncompromising male dominance. Always trying self consciously & frightened to not be in any way intrusive. Your needs were irrelevant & unimportant, only his pleasure and satisfaction were important to you now. And even though you feared the horrible whip terribly, you were so flattered and mollified to be ‘too beautiful to be free’ not to be punished, to be too desirable not to kept under a strict and perfect, painful discipline.
As you served your Master. Or any Master, or any of His guests. Longing to be sent to His bed, or instructed to kneel inside his open knees and please Him. Looking up at Him lovingly adoringly, frightened but helplessly wet with the desire to please Him. To feel Him explode in your mouth, or between your legs, and to climax and submit to Him totally in orgasmic surrender. For that brief ecstatic moment when you felt yourself merge into His lustful desire. But often especially during the day it was just fellatio leaving you helplessly wet and needy, but that was of no concern to Him, we were for His pleasure not our needs no matter how hot and desperate we were. Before you licked Him clean and He slapped your bottom dismissing you in tears back to your tiny kennel or your chores.
I had served drinks all afternoon, rushing back and forth with fresh beer & snacks, while the Masters enjoyed their afternoon. And afterwards in the early evening one of the Men had called me to kneel intimately for Him.
Dismissing me with my mouth and face all sticky to my kennel, as He went to the pool to swim and cool down. I would be locked in the iron belt tonight, and pushed into a tiny kennel with my rival. She was hot and sticky, having also been taken by 3 of the Men. She was gagged with Her panties, and the kennel attendant also decided to gag me, We were not allowed to chatter much in the kennels anyways, maybe the briefest of whispers, but not tonight not that we ever had much to say to each other anyway, nor much to any of the other girls who were our fierce rivals. I was gagged with another pair of quite sticky silk panties, before He closing the leather curtain over the cage and leaving us in the hot sticky total darkness.
I squelched and squirmed helplessly, wishing I had been chosen, furious with her, that she had been so well used and I had not. But also glad that the Masters were so strict and uncompromising with us.
Thank You Master.
