Then he dragged me back to my knees by my hair and slapped me across the face, throwing my body sideways and to the floor. "You are a common slave slut," he said. "Do not insult my name by letting it pass your lips."
"I'm sorry, master," I pleaded, still lying on my side where I had fallen. "Forgive me, master. I am only a worthless slave girl. Let me demonstrate to you my absolute submissiveness. Let me serve you as a slave, in any way you desire."
He crouched down, rudely spun me only my belly, and lifted my hips into the air. An instant later I felt him deep inside me as he subjected me to his swift, disciplinary rape. He had no thought for my pleasure, but used me brutally, casually, and unilaterally, exerting the primitive dominance of a master over his slave. But even being used in this way, my body welcomed him, and I could feel myself heating up as he had his way with me, unavoidably responding both physically and emotionally to my complete ravishment. When he finished with me and let me slump to the floor, defeated, I immediately rolled to my knees and took him in my mouth to clean him and to show my utter submission, my desperate eagerness to give pleasure, and my impatience to be used again.
It was not long before he fulfilled that desire, and it was many times and in many ways that my master compelled his new slave to serve him that night. On my back, my ankles bound to my wrists high above my head; leaning forward over the bed, my wrists bound behind my back; on my knees before him, forced to hold myself open for him with my hands; or writhing on top of him, at his command, my hands behind my back; he extracted from me many times over the price of my slavery. That night he allowed me to sleep on the floor by his bed, chained by my collar to the foot of the bed. As I learned, I was extended that courtesy so that he would have the convenience of summoning me onto the bed in the middle of the night, there to continue my intimate services. And in the morning, I even dared to perform the task that M. Roget had first demanded of me, allowing him to awaken in the gentle morning light already bathing in the warmth and softness of his new slave's mouth. He smiled, locked his hands in my soft hair, and forcibly guided me to complete my task, holding me to him even as I swallowed in submissive ecstasy.
"Thank you for buying me, master," I said when he finally released me, continuing to kiss at his stomach and chest, my hair draped over his body. I expected he would want to begin his day and would have no more time to pass with his slave girl, but I wanted to whet his appetite for later. I was truly grateful that if I were consigned to a lifetime of slavery, at least some of it would be spent in his arms.
"You will have ample opportunity to thank me more fully," he answered. "In time you may come to curse the day that you came into my possession."
"I fear this slave must beg to differ, master," I said, pausing in my ministrations to look up into his eyes. "You may beat me, rape me, abuse me in any way, but I will remain your devoted slave." And at the moment, I meant it.
"Of course you will," David said. "That is why I bought you."
I spent that first day learning about my new surroundings, under the tutelage of the other slave girls David owned: Charlotte, a university student he had met in England, seduced, and enslaved; Deirdre, an American from Virginia, radiantly blonde and long-legged; and Tamara, a Canadian from British Columbia, brown-haired and athletic. I gathered David's taste in girls ran to innocent-seeming, fresh-faced young women capable of intense devotion to their masters, girls who could not only be trained to accept their slavery, but could be gradually but inexorably compelled to love their abject condition. Charlotte had been in his keeping the longest, for close to three years, and seemed to be his favorite; once selected and purchased, he showed no signs of tiring of a girl, rather spending months and years teasing out her inner submissiveness, drawing her ever more completely into his power.
We were detained in David's "country house" outside the capital of the small principality in which he was a prominent citizen. The compound included several buildings and stretched over close to a hundred acres of carefully tended gardens in what was otherwise largely a desert region, a testament to his and his family's wealth. The entire complex was surrounded by a high, electrified fence, with only two gates, each manned by armed guards. The security was primarily designed to maintain his family's privacy, but of course also served to deter any attempt we slave girls might make to escape. We had the run of the building in which we were housed and a small portion of the grounds, but were not allowed in most areas of the compound, particularly in the buildings where David's three wives lived and raised their children. I learned that his wives were all well-educated but traditional women from the local aristocracy, and that he was both a devoted husband and father. But when it was a woman he wanted, he turned instead to his small stable of white slave girls. And for this, it seems, we were uniformly hated by his wives. They might feel relieved that it was on us that he imposed his powerful urges and desires, but at the same time we clearly represented the corrupt Western world that they hated. In the thin silk garments that we were permitted, which we must, of course, remove at a moment's notice, we were visibly the sort of wanton, degraded sluts that were so offensive to their traditional morals. It may have been for our benefit and protection that we were forbidden from seeing them.
It was a great relief to find that we were not made sexually available to the various servants, guards, and other members of the complex. While we must of course obey the commands of any free person immediately and absolutely - under threat of being whipped - David reserved the use of our bodies to himself, and to those he specifically designated. I do not think this was out of any particular graciousness on his part, but rather from a desire to keep us in a perpetual state of arousal and anticipation, letting our sexual needs grow over time so that, when we were finally given the chance to serve him, we would be particularly helpless and desperate to be pleasing. There were times, however, when we might be given either to a particular staff member, or when we might as a group be thrown to them for their general amusement, either as a reward for good service or simply as a diversion. He was a generous employer, and the services of his slaves were one way in which he compensated his employees.
In addition, we were also called on to serve at dinners or parties that David would host for his friends or business associates. At these affairs, we would first perform such standard tasks as greeting guests, taking their coats, serving drinks, and waiting at table - dressed, of course, in brief, sheer garments that readily displayed our charms, and more than hinted at our eventual availability for other, more intimate services. Then, as the evening wore on, our roles would change, and we would be commanded to remove our clothing so that we might, now completely nude, serve as the object of various games and diversions, in which our bodies were invariably the prize. Sometimes, on these nights, I would be used repeatedly by different men, as had been the routine in Paris. But here, at least, these occasions were the exception rather than the rule, and I found that I even looked forward to them, because they allowed me to most fully display and indulge my submissiveness, my ever-growing desire to serve, and obey, and give pleasure, with no thought for myself, seeking validation solely in the look of contentment I might see on a master's face as I brought him to climax with my mouth or body.