A tall, black-haired woman stood in the doorway. She looked at ease in a crisp blue business shirt and grey slacks. She seemed about forty, her face hard but not wrinkled, her hair flecked with grey. I looked into her eyes for a moment. Then I lowered my eyes and knelt before her, my knees wide.
"Here's the slut," my captor said. I reddened at the verbal slap.
"How was she?" the woman asked.
"Remarkable," he answered. "I've never seen a new girl so eager to please." I wanted to die on the spot. The humiliation of being raped by three men in the back of a limousine paled next to the humiliation of having my secret, submissive nature exposed.
"Is this true?" the woman asked me, lifting my chin with her hand.
"Are you eager to please?"
Tears welled up in my eyes. "Yes, mistress," I whispered. "I exist only to please my masters." I took refuge in the thought that I was only trying to say what she would want to hear, but I knew that was a lie.
"Then we will get along wonderfully, my dear," she said. She took the end of my leash in her hand and led me into the house. My captor, the first man who used me as a slave, patted me affectionately on the bottom and turned to leave.
She led me into a large, almost empty room that seemed more appropriate to a Kreuzberg loft than to a rural mansion. She stopped and turned toward me. Instantly I knelt before her, my knees open, my chest thrust forward. I hoped she found my body pleasing. I wondered what she would demand of me - if I would be forced to please her as I had pleased the men in the car.
"I take it you understand what has happened to you," she began. "You are now a slave - a sex slave, in fact. We know that you have secretly desired to be a slave, and now we are simply granting you that desire."
There was no way I could argue with that. Hadn't I gone willingly both to the club and to the party, there to serve as a slave? Hadn't I begged Stefan and Cristina to put me to use as a slave? "What is going to happen to me?" was all I could ask.
"Although you show considerable promise as a slave, you have a great deal to learn. This is a training facility. Here you will be taught what it means to be a slave, and the arts of serving men and women with your body. If you do not learn quickly, you will be whipped." She paused. "I assure you that it is best to learn quickly." I nodded, silently. I had always been a good student, but never before had I taken classes in sexual slavery. I hoped that I would be a good student. I vowed to do everything I could to be pleasing.
Then I remembered what she had said - that this was only a training facility. "Then what happens ... once I've been trained?" I whispered.
"Then you will be sold to your new master," she said simply. "And then you will spend a lifetime endeavoring to convince him - or her - that you are worth keeping. Presumably you will spend much of that time as naked as you are now, with your legs spread or your mouth open, begging to be used as a slave. Or your master can choose to sell you to someone else, of course. You are just an article of property now, to be bought and sold and consumed."
I thought about what I had gotten myself into. No longer could I enjoy the comforts of submitting to my idol, Cristina, or to people I knew and liked. Now I was just a naked, helpless slave girl, who could find herself on her knees before anyone, anywhere, begging to be raped. But at the same time, now I knew that I truly had no choice in the matter. I was a slave and that was all there was to it. I would have to be utterly pleasing to anyone who had rights over me.
"What kind of owners do the slaves get sold to?" I asked, wondering what fate lay in wait for me.
"A few are sold to extraordinarily wealthy men and women who want to have personal sex slaves. But actually, the largest number are sold to high-class prostitution businesses," she said. "There's more money there than in private slavery. Most of the girls we train here end up being rented by the hour or by the night to wealthy businessmen who want the exquisite services that can only be demanded of a complete slave. And then some are sold into the pornography business, where they are used to make movies and videos. But there isn't much need for slaves there, since so many young girls are willing to do it for the money."
So that was my future - offering my body to one man after the other, to satisfy their every desire, for the profit of my owners. Gone was any of the romance I might have imagined in sexual slavery. Instead I would be a simple commodity to be used up and presumably discarded when my body was no longer of interest.
"I am Claudia, but you will address me as Mistress," she said, jarring me out of my reverie. "I run this house. You appear eager and obedient, but that remains to be proven. Any disobedience, however slight, will be instantly punished. We have very few rules, apart from absolute obedience. You will remain nude unless specifically permitted otherwise. You will kneel when in the presence of any of the staff here, unless permitted otherwise. Your body is constantly available for use by any of the staff, unless specified otherwise. And you may not please yourself or any of the other slaves. Your bodies exist for the pleasure of masters alone. Do you understand?"
"Yes, mistress," I said. "I will be absolutely obedient."
"Very good," she said. "You may keep the name 'Jenny' while you are here, although you will more often answer to 'slave' or slut.'
"Michael!" she called. A moment later a tall, burly man strode in to the room. "Take the new slave to the slave pen."
"Yes, Claudia," he answered. He picked up my leash and began to lead me away. "Any special instructions?" he said with a smile.
"No, Michael," she said. "You may do with her as you wish."
I would not have to wait long to find out what she meant. He led me down a staircase to a large, dimly lit room with several narrow beds. Most seemed to be occupied by young women, apparently naked under the thin sheets. He pulled me to an empty bed, threw me down on it on my back, and tied my leash around a ring attached to the wall above the head of the bed. Then he casually flipped me over onto my stomach and lifted me onto my knees, forcing my bottom up into the air. I heard him undoing his zipper behind me. My heart was pounding and my breathing frantic as I realized I was to be raped once again. I could feel my body lubricating itself desperately to protect against its impending violent penetration. Then suddenly I felt him plunge into me and I cried out in pain and surprise. He used me brutally, forcefully, and casually, with no regard for my feelings or my own pleasure. I was nothing but a vessel for his manhood, a toy for his amusement. My body was warm with excitement but still far from satisfaction when I felt his final surge inside me. After he withdrew from me I collapsed onto the bed, sobbing into my pillow. So this was what it meant to be a slave. So this was what it meant to be a slave. The words repeated over and over in my head. "Welcome to your new life, slut," Michael whispered as he left.
Chapter 5: Training
The trainer barked out a short, authoritative command in a language I did not understand. I looked at him in shock, not understanding what was required of me. I was standing before him, naked. In his left hand was one end of a six-foot, light chain leash. The other end was attached to a choke collar around my neck. In his right hand was a long, flexible switch.
Suddenly the switch flashed across my back and a sharp downward tug on the leash pulled me down to my knees. I cried out in pain. The trainer kicked my knees apart and repeated the same monosyllabic command.
Then he shouted another command, again one I didn't understand. This one had two syllables and began with a hard "k" sound. I was again struck by the switch, but this time there was no tug on the leash to instruct me. I decided that I was to supposed to guess what this command meant, and tried rising to my feet. For my pains I was greeted with three more blows from the switch, and a brutal tug on the leash and took my breath away and threw me onto my belly on the hardwood floor. I lay there, not daring to move, my face and breasts literally pressed against the floor. In an attempt to pacify my trainer, I spread my legs as widely as possible. That at least seemed expected of me more often than not. The switch was really not that terribly painful, but my back was smarting from the multiple blows.