capture & shipping

Capture

She woke up terrified a hand closed over her mouth, somebody was in her flat, her bedroom, on her bed. She wanted to scream, wanted to move but she was paralysed with fright. The light went on 2 men were over her, her duvet was torn from her, she was nude. The leather jacketed men were tall & muscular, powerful & confident, there were 2 other men in her living room. She was yanked out of bed, to her feet, by a fistful of her hair. She opened her mouth as if to protest. Expertly a cold rod was forced between her buttocks, its cold tip just into the tender skin of her anus. She shrieked in pain the cattle prod discharged on her naked flesh. One of the men laughed, as she sobbed.
“I still prefer the whip” He said to his colleague.
“Plenty of time for that later” the man with the cattle prod replied
The device was pressed hard up her anus, she was lifted onto her tiptoes.
“From now on, bitch, be quiet & obedient, understood”
She nodded terrified
“How long have we got before the van gets here” He shouted to one of the men in the living room.
“An hour or so, I told you we were too early” came the reply
“Has the slut got anything to drink ?” came another voice.
“Or we could open her legs”
“She’s a virgin.”
“Not for much longer” laughter
“Are you going to rape me ?” She asked crying.
“Not just yet” was the cold reply
Have you anything cold to drink, fucktoy ?” He asked her
“There’s some beer in the fridge, & wine” she said faintly.
The other man was fishing in her laundry basket, he pulled out a pair of her worn panties. She loved silk panties, expensive & feminine. He stuffed the soiled briefs into her mouth, she looked up at him in tears..
“She can fetch it in silence” He said
The naked girl was pushed into the living room & then into her kitchen. The men sat down on her sofas, she fetched them each a can of beer. One of the men kicked her coffee table out of the way. Stand there she was told.
The four men looked at her candidly drinking her beer, she was left gagged.
“Not a bad little slut” was the assessment
She watched in tears as a cigarette was ground into her carpet An empty can was tossed to the floor.
“More” she was told
A heavy leather wrap was unfolded on the floor, it was a body hood. She was pushed to her knees, her mouth was ungagged, for a few seconds. They forced her into the leather sheath, she was distraught. The leather was quite thick but polished & creamed so as to be very supple. It came down to her thighs, at her head a thick ball of leather was pushed into her mouth, distressingly the ball expanded to fill her mouth. External straps secured the gag, similar straps bound her upper & lower arms tightly. A thick strap went between her legs and another clamped her thighs together. There was no need to lock them, she was utterly powerless inside the hood. Her ankles were hobbled. They left her kneeling in front of them. In the darkness of the tight leather, clammy with fear, her own & the hoods previous occupants, she sobbed helplessly into her gag. Secured now she was ignored, as the men waited for the transport.
Eventually the van came, she was slung easily over a shoulder & carried out, thrown kneeling in the back. There were 19 other girls in the van, bound tightly. Twenty girls in total, all blonde, none of them had been able to show much resistance. Abruptly put under male dominance, no longer free. The van drove off into the darkness. a nights work well done.
Handling
It was early morning before the van stopped again, in the hills, at an isolated farm building. The men jumped out, the van was backed into the low stone building. The blindfolded women were pulled stumbling from the van. Through a heavy metal door & then the barefoot girls herded down some icy stone steps. In the cellar the terrified girls were knelt on the rough cobbles, damp & frozen, on their bare knees. The leader of the group delved into the carryall he had over his shoulder. A bunch of keys was produced & whilst lighting a smoke, fiddled with them finding the correct keys. He then proceeded to open another thick metal door. One of the men went to a drainage channel close to the kneeling women & urinated. The girl nearest to him had her legs splashed, she squirmed anxiously in her hood. He lit a cigarette and jeered at the captive.
“If you don’t get out of my way quicker than that slut, you can drink it next time.”
She knelt stock still paralysed with fright.
“Do you understand girl”
She didn’t move.
He crouched down besides her & rasped into her ear
“Do you understand fucktoy ?”
Finally understanding what he wanted she nodded frantically in the hood.
“Closer to the wall now” He shouted at her, the terrified girl pressed her hooded face into the stone wall.
“Good” he said laughing
The door was open now revealing another bare stone room, not lit illuminated by the other room.
“Stop fucking around with her & get them ready”
The girls were stood up & lined up, led to the door. One by one stood in front of the opened & kicked violently through, the men careful not to go anywhere near the opening. One by one the girls disappeared from sight. When the final girl had been pushed through, the door was closed & locked on the still empty room. The men locked the doors & left in the van. Driving through mostly empty fields in the early morning mist, nothing around for miles & miles, job finished.
In another stone room the stumbling girls were seized & knelt facing another cool wall. A different place, completely different The air was hot & humid, like deep summer, somehow also the atmosphere felt cleaner. The girls felt totally weak as if their bodies had been momentarily completely limp & relaxed. They were simple to be manhandled by the slavers. The bewildered girls knelt quietly against the wall, already pliable and fearfully awaiting what was to be done to them,
There were 3 men working in the room, one was boiling a large pot of water, into which he was carefully inserting large rubbery capsules, roughly the size of short fat cucumbers.
His colleague went to each girl in turn and opened the big toes instep. Noted down the tattooing. It basically denoted the point of arrival, in this case here, & whether her hymen was intact or not. The meaning of a third symbol was unknown, to all but a select few. This tattooing was very discreet & actually strangely for tattoos faded after a few weeks, was done automatically by the gateways. The girls were separated according to the state of their hymens.

“19 tonight.” He commented to his colleague.
“I wonder where the twentieth ended up” Came the reply.
Occasionally a girl would turn up wandering confused in the hills, or washed up on the coast, mostly they just didn’t turn up anywhere where they could be found. One of the rubbery capsules was put back into a bag.

“No matter, less work for us”
A bota of wine was passed around while the capsules were softening in the liquid, eventually they were ready. The first girl to be processed had her head pushed firmly to the ground. He buttocks were lifted up & the hood unbuckled around her thighs. One of the men lifted one of the capsules from the boiling water. Tossing it from hand to hand it was so hot. Another of the men spread her buttocks & the capsule was expertly rammed into place, right up inside her. Even inside the hood gagged as she was, her squeals & moaning were loudly audible. The other girls squirmed in distress. She was a virgin so the hood was simply closed & re-buckled shut. She knelt against the wall squirming & sobbing in pain.
The transport enemas contained, nutrients so that she could be transported for up to 2 weeks without being fed or watered. As new arrivals the capsule had also been spiked with a language drug that greatly aided the new slaves in learning gorean, simple iteration was all that was needed to teach gorean.
One of the girls kicked out fearfully as they opened her hood, a sharp crack of the shortened bullwhip across her legs silenced her & the other slaves.
One by one the girls were processed, the virgin or white silk girls simply had the enemas applied and the hoods closed. The girls who weren’t virgins had thick rubber phalluses, self lubricated with greasy jelly attached to the bottom belt of the hood, secured into the anus & vagina. The girls would squirm on these for the remainder of their transportation, developing internal muscles. This reflected the different expectations of slavegirls. White silk girls are expected to be tight & part of their pleasure is opening them for the first time, to some extent enjoying a girls reluctance & distress. Non white silk girls were expected to be tight but open & penetrated easily, the only resistance her fear. Also the dildos are seen as punishment for the earth girls, for using their bodies for their own pleasure, without a Masters permission, theft.
They were then led stumbling out into the early morning sun & pushed into a low cage carriage. The cage was tiny intended for only 10 cramped occupants. These girls were lucky often 30 girls were confined in these cages. The girls were secured in place kneeling, heads bowed by the height of the enclosure. It was then padlocked & a thick leather curtain was closed over the cage.
The men tidied up & prepared breakfast for themselves, settling in for a quick nap before setting off later in the morning.
It was a five day ride before they reached a major city & the slavers pens, the girls would remain in the cage until then.

flotsam

She opened her eyes, it had been a dream after all. She opened her eyes, the intense sunlight hurt her eyes. She woke up quickly, she was absolutely naked outside. Scrambling to her feet she looked around. The landscape was featureless, flat sand all around, no direction, no trees, no features just sand. And it was hot sand, her feet were burning. Her limbs felt loose jelly like, as if they had been totally relaxed. Had she dreamed the night before, it didn’t feel like a dream, this didn’t feel like a dream. She started walking, trotting desperately just to cool her feet. After ten minutes she was sobbing.
He watched her from the distance keeping the sunlight between himself & her, he had been slowly gaining on her for an hour or so. There was no hurry, there was nowhere she could go. Finally he galloped towards her, she saw him & tried to run, he rode past her & slapped her to the ground. He turned round the prone girl on horseback for a few seconds then jumped down, seizing a fistful of her hair. She tried to struggle free, hitting out at his breastplate, quite futilely. He slapped her, that calmed her, or quietened her. He opened her mouth and looked at the inevitable tattoo.
Strange but not so strange, the gateways were sometimes wildly erratic, she was a thousand miles astray. The slavers mark was from across the sea & north.
She seemed to have gained her composure somewhat, babbling questions at him in her native tongue.
He slapped her again.
“Shut up slave” he told her she didn’t understand, but the force of his slap spoke volumes.
He drank from his canteen, then filled a bowl for his horse, and then his pack mule. He looked at her she was terribly dehydrated, he gave her the bowl last. She looked up gratefully.
She seemed to be indicating her nakedness, he looked at her pale skin, perhaps it would be a shame to ruin that complexion. Fishing around in one of his packs he found the only item of women’s clothing he was carrying. He tossed the scarlet silk burka to her. He had taken it from a girl two nights earlier, it was still quite stained & smelly from her rape. The girl had been collared & sold, he kept the burka intending to use the silk to clean his leathers & armour. Karen put the burka on, it was tight & close fitting, only open at the eyes, the silk clinging to her curves quite prettily. Designed really for wearing over a house pantaloon set, not nudity She squirmed in discomfort, the garment was quite smelly, & still intimately soiled, quite suitable, if a tad modest for one such her, he thought.
He had no chains or collar for her, he took a portion of leather cord & bound her ankles together, then her wrists behind her in the burka. He decided for no particular reason not to gag her. She was slung on top of the mule, at least she was seated, not strung across.
He remounted, took a long swig from his canteen & spurred his horse into movement. She followed behind him on the mule, he was whistling.


Not a dream


She opened her eyes, it had been a dream after all. She opened her eyes, the intense sunlight hurt her eyes. She woke up quickly, she was absolutely naked outside. Scrambling to her feet she looked around. The landscape was featureless, flat sand all around, no direction, no trees, no features just sand. And it was hot sand, her feet were burning. Her limbs felt loose jelly like, as if they had been totally relaxed. Had she dreamed the night before, it didn’t feel like a dream, this didn’t feel like a dream. She started walking, trotting desperately just to cool her feet. After ten minutes she was sobbing.
He watched her from the distance keeping the sunlight between himself & her, he had been slowly gaining on her for an hour or so. There was no hurry, there was nowhere she could go. Finally he galloped towards her, she saw him & tried to run, he rode past her & slapped her to the ground. He turned round the prone girl on horseback for a few seconds then jumped down, seizing a fistful of her hair. She tried to struggle free, hitting out at his breastplate, quite futilely. He slapped her, that calmed her, or quietened her. He opened her mouth and looked at the inevitable tattoo.
Strange but not so strange, the gateways were sometimes wildly erratic, she was a thousand miles astray. The slavers mark was from across the sea & north.
She seemed to have gained her composure somewhat, babbling questions at him in her native tongue.
He slapped her again.
“Shut up kajira” he told her she didn’t understand, but the force of his slap spoke volumes.
He drank from his canteen, then filled a bowl for his horse, and then his pack mule. He looked at her she was terribly dehydrated, he gave her the bowl last. She looked up gratefully.
She seemed to be indicating her nakedness, he looked at her pale skin, perhaps it would be a shame to ruin that complexion. Fishing around in one of his packs he found the only item of women’s clothing he was carrying. He tossed the scarlet silk burka to her. He had taken it from a girl two nights earlier, it was still quite stained & smelly from her rape. The girl had been collared & sold, he kept the burka intending to use the silk to clean his leathers & armour. Karen put the burka on, it was tight & close fitting, only open at the eyes, the silk clinging to her curves quite prettily. She squirmed in discomfort, the garment was quite smelly, & still intimately soiled, excellent he thought.
He had no chains or collar for her, he took a portion of leather cord & bound her ankles together, then her wrists behind her in the burka. He decided for no particular reason not to gag her. She was slung on top of the mule, at least she was seated, not strung across.
He remounted, took a long swig from his canteen & spurred his horse into movement. She followed behind him on the mule, he was whistling.

inferior

She sat behind him on the mule, sheathed in the crimson chador. She had taken the hint, of his slap & kept quiet. Her leather binds were very inflexible, even if she had wished to remove them where could she run to, where was she. He knew, she did not. If she had managed to unbind herself he could easily ride her down, more than likely chase her on foot too, he was muscular & athletic. If she somehow gave him the slip, he could probably track her easily. She was in his hands, controlled by him.
She wanted to talk, to ask him, where she was, what was happening, why was she here. But she suspected she already had the answer to the latter 2 questions. Fucktoy, rape, slut, virgin, whip the words danced in her mind. & what did ‘kajira’ mean & why did he spit it out so derisively looking at her as if she was worthless, expected to be obedient. She had felt demeaned by his tone rather than the physical violence. Moreover she felt that for now she had better be meek & obedient.
Her garment stank of sex & fear inside, was sticky at the loins & mouth. He had been in the markets at dusk, the girl had been late. A few minutes, not much longer later than she should have been. Locked in her families compound, safe until she was sold into slavery by her own family or married off. She was eighteen or so, had been fetching water. Hadn’t rushed out of his way in time, quickly enough. Something about her curves in the red silk had inflamed him, to punish her & enjoy her. He had seized her & dragged her into a tavern, pushing her into an alcove. He had bound her in the garment, hooding & gagging her in the silk sheath. He had whipped her legs quite sternly. Then he had raped her, breaching both her orifices for the first time. He had wiped herself on the insides of her garment She had performed fellatio through the silk. she had been locked in the taverns slave cage for the night, it being too late to take her to the slavers, while he enjoyed a more experienced, trained pleasure slave for the night. Apparently a few more tavern customers had enjoyed the girl that night, still bound in the silken sheath. She had fetched a few copper coins at the slavers the next morning, not much, on a slave coffle by that evening, bound for the next trading post, shipped out of the city, a slave, hooded, gagged and helpless, for her first sale. He had been pleased by her fate, well punished for not moving her pretty curves fast enough.
The sheaths new occupant was seething & squirming with frustration on the mule. She was plonked on several leather sacks, seemingly stuffed with all manner of hard uncomfortable objects. Along with a couple of bales of something. The beast of burden plodded along, lurching this way & that, she felt very precarious unsettled. Behind her was another mule similarly laden down, the mules were tethered to each other, behind his horse. She felt that she was part of the tether.
When the sun was at its highest, he stopped watered the mules & his horse, then sat in the shade of his horse & had some bread & meat, some water. He left her perched on the mule, thirsty, fuming, just baggage. He sat for a while regarding her while smoking a couple of long hand rolled cigarettes, she didn’t meet his eyes, or dare speak.
He urinated in the sand, she watched him wishing she could raise the courage to ask to go herself. He didn’t offer, didn’t even think of offering. They set off again.
It was nearly dark before they finally reached some features in this flat wasteland, an oasis & a desert small camp.



She sat behind him on the mule, sheathed in the crimson chador. She had taken the hint, of his slap & kept quiet. Her leather binds were very inflexible, even if she had wished to remove them where could she run to, where was she. He knew, she did not. If she had managed to unbind herself he could easily ride her down, more than likely chase her on foot too, he was muscular & athletic. If she somehow gave him the slip, he could probably track her easily. She was in his hands, controlled by him.
She wanted to talk, to ask him, where she was, what was happening, why was she here. But she suspected she already had the answer to the latter 2 questions. Fucktoy, rape, slut, virgin, whip the words danced in her mind. & what did ‘kajira’ mean & why did he spit it out so derisively looking at her as if she was worthless, expected to be obedient. She had felt demeaned by his tone rather than the physical violence. Moreover she felt that for now she had better be meek & obedient.
Her garment stank of sex & fear inside, was sticky at the loins & mouth. He had been in the markets at dusk, the girl had been late. A few minutes, not much longer later than she should have been. Locked in her families compound, safe until she was sold into slavery by her own family or married off. She was eighteen or so, had been fetching water. Hadn’t rushed out of his way in time, quickly enough. Something about her curves in the red silk had inflamed him, to punish her & enjoy her. He had seized her & dragged her into a tavern, pushing her into an alcove. He had bound her in the garment, hooding & gagging her in the silk sheath. He had whipped her legs quite sternly. Then he had raped her, breaching both her orifices for the first time. He had wiped herself on the insides of her garment She had performed fellatio through the silk. she had been locked in the taverns slave cage for the night, it being too late to take her to the slavers, while he enjoyed a more experienced, trained pleasure slave for the night. Apparently a few more tavern customers had enjoyed the girl that night, still bound in the silken sheath. She had fetched a few copper coins at the slavers the next morning, not much, on a slave coffle by that evening, bound for the next trading post, shipped out of the city, a slave, hooded, gagged and helpless, for her first sale. He had been pleased by her fate, well punished for not moving her pretty curves fast enough.
The sheaths new occupant was seething & squirming with frustration on the mule. She was plonked on several leather sacks, seemingly stuffed with all manner of hard uncomfortable objects. Along with a couple of bales of something. The beast of burden plodded along, lurching this way & that, she felt very precarious unsettled. Behind her was another mule similarly laden down, the mules were tethered to each other, behind his horse. She felt that she was part of the tether.
When the sun was at its highest, he stopped watered the mules & his horse, then sat in the shade of his horse & had some bread & meat, some water. He left her perched on the mule, thirsty, fuming, just baggage. He sat for a while regarding her while smoking a couple of long hand rolled cigarettes, she didn’t meet his eyes, or dare speak.
He urinated in the sand, she watched him wishing she could raise the courage to ask to go herself. He didn’t offer, didn’t even think of offering. They set off again.
It was nearly dark before they finally reached some features in this flat wasteland, an oasis & a small desert camp.

the men relax

The camp was quite small, & busy. Two caravans had stopped here for a couple of days. The growing gloom was lit by camp fires & lamps in tents. Children were running around playing, in and out of a small pool, men were swimming in the pool, talking & playing with the children. At the other end of the pool some women were busy scrubbing clothes. He dismounted a couple of men greeted him warmly. One of the men summoned some older boys who were instructed to unload & water his mules.
He lifted her down from the mule & stripped the chador from her, the men looked at her quite candidly while they chatted, not particularly interested in her at the moment, she looked down. He unbound her ankles & wrists, she glanced up briefly, thankful & uncertain. He caught her eyes in his, frightened she quickly looked down.
The men stopped a girl who was struggling past yoked with two very large buckets of water. Karen couldn’t understand a word they were saying but the tone & body language was evocative. The men gave the girl curt instructions, dismissively, her responses were very respectful & obsequious. The girl led Karen away towards the cooking area. Her captor went for a swim in the pool.
The kitchen tent was quite hot & humid, its flaps down to keep flies off the food. There were several women working preparing food, they were scantily dressed, some wore bikini sets, others harem pantaloons, others simple slips. Some had their breasts bare others not. All the women wore tiny silk mouth veils, & all the women wore steel collars. Some were wives, but most were merely slaves, the wives seemed to be permitted more clothing, & generally were in charge.
Karen wasn’t given any time for reflection one of the wives came up to talk to her. She was friendly, but obviously expected the naked newcomer to obey her. Karen looked at her blankly. When it finally dawned on the woman that Karen couldn’t understand a word she was saying, Karen was given a small peeling knife & put in front of a large pile of vegetables. Tired, confused, numbly she started peeling, rather than face a confrontation, especially one complicated by the language barrier. The woman patted her head sympathetically, she had seen lots of new slavegirls. It takes them a little while to settle in. Karen looked up gratefully in tears, for the first kindness she had been shown, for the first acknowledgement of her. The woman wiped her tears away with her hair, helping her brush it back behind her ears. Whilst gently directing Karen’s attention to the peeling. She continued stroking her hair gently. Enjoying the soft feel, the novelty of her blonde hair, not so very uncommon, but not everyday here.
Meat & vegetables were being roasted, bread & sweet pastries baked. After two hours the meal was prepared, Karen & the girl who had brought her to the cooking tent were sent to fetch more water. Karen's knees nearly buckling under the heavy yoke, taking her cue from her companion & the proximity of the men, both girls fetched quickly & without complaint. After the prepared food was taken into the main tent for the seated men all the cooking implements were scrubbed spotlessly clean by the slaves, wives departed to take care of younger children.
Kneeling in the kitchen, the delicious aroma of the cooked food, lingering in the air Karen & the other girls were each given a small bowl of plain rice. They ate with their fingers, slaves in the north would be grateful for that privilege. They were also permitted a small bowl of water each.
Then they were taken back to the slave area, comprising of a couple of shaded wooden cages that were locked at night and some slave paraphernalia, a whipping post, some stocks etc. The girls were permitted to toilet in a bucket, then wash & clean their clothes & themselves. One of the slaves knelt with Karen & began to smear a thick gooey paste all over her body, pressing a friendly finger to Karen's lips to silence her murmured protestations. The paste was washed off & Karen's body had been completely depilated. Then she was bathed with slave soap, the wives use it too here. A thick scented oily bar, that cleansed & moisturized her skin completely. She felt like she had been saturated with baby oil, yet her skin was dry to the touch but incredibly smooth & soft. Such a strange, very tactile & vulnerable sensation. She then helped Karen wash & brush her hair, chattering & giggling inanities at her, ignoring the language barrier. Karen started crying, the slaves rushed to comfort her. Their frank kindness made her feel worse, more alone & alienated.
From the main tent there was music & laughter, loud male voices, sounds of enjoyment. Karen knelt with the slaves waiting.
After a short while Some of the girls were summoned to the main tent, Karen still nude was led there too. Her companion, or captor was sitting talking to the two men who had greeted him.
Karen was knelt down near her captor, or more factually knelt beside his chair facing the tent wall behind him. Occasionally she furtively sneaked a glimpse of the goings on behind her.
He watched her do this a couple of times then snapped his fingers loudly pointing to the tent wall. She shifted uneasily & reddened. He smiled as he heard a tiny cry of frustration from her, how pleasant they are to tease.
He left her waiting while he and his companions ate.
She didn’t turn again.

she isnt sold just yet

After the men had finished eating slavegirls served more wine & hashish pipes. Karen waited in frustrated silence, facing the tent wall, eventually she was summoned to kneel in front of the men. Marcus her captor lifted her chin with a black leather riding crop, the leather tab smelt of fear & sex, Karen couldn’t help but be frightened by the implement too. Using the whip he straightened her posture lifted her breasts & nipples slightly, parted her legs ever so slightly until he was satisfied with her appearance.
“Shipwrecked ?”
“Maybe”
“More likely a lost caravan, she is white silk & unbranded too”
Not many are privy to knowledge about the gateways, only those directly involved in the slave trade, & of those only a select few. Fewer still suspect the true nature of the tunnels. Marcus was occasionally involved in the slave trade.
“Quite pretty, how much do you want for her ?”
He saw her only as a commodity, rather than for his own pleasure. Blondes like Karen were relatively rare in these parts, she might sell well in the markets. A small bonus above the usual profit.
“I’ve not decided to sell her yet”
A shrug.
“Too be honest I’ve not quite decided what to do with her at all.”
“Perhaps we should just rape her now, brand her in the morning” His other companion suggested.
“Perhaps, though I may take her north with me.” The kernel of an idea was growing, he took a deep toke on his pipe, & exhaled a column of smoke “Sometimes its pleasant to watch a girl learn her slavery”
In the days before free women became a rarity, some women approached men and asked to become their slaves, for love. It was quite common to take these women into captivity, & make these women beg for their collars. Only granting that wish when it was clear that she desperately ached to serve. It was also common to open the girl then take her to the slavers the next day & sell her, after all she had begged for her slavery.
Both men smiled, sometimes the trip across the desert & coast was long & uneventful, even a slave could be a pleasant companion if well handled.
“Anyway to business, do you have a spare capsule” a language capsule.
A smile “I’m not so sure I have any spare capsules”
Marcus took a gulp of wine annoyed, he hated all the shilly-shallying sometimes, either you have one or you don’t, if you do, how much. Sometimes his ex military manners, collided with his trading instincts.
“I may have a nice whip, perhaps a collar”
“I already have a whip”
The 3 men moved on to other matters, trading blocks of opiates & hashish quite amicably, he was also trading rare spices & stones, only available in the deep south beyond the desert. Not that he ever went that far down he had traded these further along the coast. A few deals were struck. At the end of the banter & bargaining Marcus was casually handed a capsule.
He beckoned Karen closer & opened her mouth placing the sour tablet on her tongue. His eyes were hard, cold, she swallowed quickly without complaint.
“Do you want a collar for her”
“Not just yet, & I already have a whip”
“Enough already, if we cant enjoy his slut, send her back to the cages.” The third man was getting bored.
Fingers were snapped, more wine served.
She was taken back to the slave cages & locked inside. One of the girls cuddled up to her in the darkness. She drifted off to sleep listening to the sounds of music & dancing, crying softly.

thank you master

She was woken in the morning at dawn. The slaves were already awake & waiting for the cage to be unlocked. One of the men still half asleep unlocked them, and went back to his bed, leaving the slaves to be supervised by the wives. They quickly went to work, quietly cleaning & tidying the camp, cleaning & polishing to perfection all plates, cutlery & goblets. Some slaves were sent to the kitchens, others to the serving areas & laundry tents.
Karen & two other girls were yoked & sent to fetch load after load of water to the kitchen, laundry, & other tents. One of the girls with her had slipped, crying out. She had a bunch of her long dark hair stuffed into her mouth, bent over & her legs whipped for nearly waking the Masters. The girl in tears hurried back to her chores. Karen didn’t dare stop or falter.
She was surprised to find herself able to understand the girls language now, picking up each words meaning as it was spoken to her. Somehow she wasn’t surprised to find that kajira meant slavegirl.
Breakfast slowly began to make itself known by aroma, as fresh bread, meat eggs were cooked, the smell of fresh coffee roasting & brewing. Gradually the men emerged from their tents, pushing dishevelled slaves out before them, back to their chores.
Karen & a couple of other slaves were set polishing the masters leathers while the men ate. She had to polish his sandals & leather breastplate, while he enjoyed breakfast. Other slaves cleaned & tidied the masters tents. While Karen polished furiously Marcus’s mules were loaded by his hosts sons. He went for a final cooling swim in the pool after breakfast.
She had her wrists & ankles bound tightly again, & she was put in the yashmak. It had been sprayed with a thick smelling perfume, but still felt ever so sticky & soiled.
She was set on one of the mules again amongst the crates, & other merchandise. He smoked a last water pipe with his hosts before setting off into the desert again.
His only words to her this morning, curt instructions as she was bound. That word again kajira, slave, possession, worthless, fucktoy, kajira. The words danced in her head kajira, fucktoy, fucktoy, fucktoy. A kajira to be beaten for falling and nearly waking the men. Owned by men.
They kept going all day, he seemed to be in a hurry today, eager to make progress, only stopping to piss & jump of his horse to stretch his legs. He ignored her all day, lost in the solitude of the desert, not interested in her, or listening to her babbling.
That night they stopped by a very small deserted pool. He made a fire with scrub wood & bathed while she cooked skewers of meat & vegetables over the flames. It was already growing dark. She struggled with the meal never having cooked like this before, never having really cooked before. She was permitted to toilet in the sand & bathe in the pool while the meal finished cooking. The cool water was glorious, she was almost ecstatic. A snap of his fingers, interrupted her, he shouted her.
“Here kajira, serve my food.”
“Yes Master”
He had made camp earlier, instructing her to prepare food & the lamps, his bed, while he kindled the fire. She had obeyed him meekly. He had stopped her & pushed her to her knees at his feet, pushing her head down so that she was forced to look at his feet.
“When I give you instructions girl, I expect you to obey me quickly & eagerly, the correct response is ‘yes Master’ or ‘Yes Master, thank you Master!’, grateful to be given the opportunity to serve.” His voice was firm but not harsh
She knelt bewildered unsure what to do or say, for a second or so.
“Yes Master, thank you Master.” She had whispered.
“Learn well the meaning of your words girl.”
“Yes Master”
Indeed there were no other words in her new vocabulary, gorean feminine vocabulary for addressing men. Somehow it appalled yet thrilled her to say Master.
She got out of the water & came running, surprising herself by her eager obedience. Running to her Masters bidding.
He sat down cross-legged by the fire, he had her kneel to one side of him. She was naked now, denuded of her chador, grateful to be free of the stifling garment. Indeed more grateful to be free from her crimson sheath than to be free of the leather binding cord.
She knelt before him while he ate the meal, she was given a lump of hard bread & cup of water. She didn’t care she was so hungry & thirsty & the pool had been so nice.
He opened a bota of wine & looked at the naked blonde kneeling before him.
“If you ever cook me a meal as bad as that again, I will take you back to those men & sell you to them” He told her drinking his wine.
Stifling a laugh as she reddened.
“After I have whipped you raw!”
Tears sprung into her eyes “Yes Master”
He took another swig of wine to hide his smile and stop himself laughing, how easy earth girls are to tease.
He handed her a brush & small towel.
“Dry your pretty hair girl”
“Yes Master, thank you Master”
He watched her enjoying her nervousness, the flicker of her eyes, every so often upwards, no daring to look directly at him, brushing her hair. It was long & straight, down to her bottom, quite fetching. Every so often her lips would part pensively then she would bite her lip prettily then look down.
She knelt in front of him, agonizingly aware of his eyes on her. Struggling to keep what little composure she had left. Wanting to cry, how helpless & afraid she felt. How she wished she had pleased him with her cooking. Questions trembled on her lips, not daring to speak.
He lifted her chin with his fingers, looking into her eyes.
“Speak girl”
“Master where are you taking this girl ?” There was no word for me in her vocabulary.
“Back to where you belong girl.”
“That isn’t Earth is it Master ?”
“No it isn’t, there is no way back” There was no way back through the gateways.
“Where then Master ?”
“To your owner girl.” Actually to the slave traders.
She had tears in her eyes, as he confirmed what she already knew.
“You haven’t even asked this girls name, Master ?” She said slightly reproachfully, he ignored her impertinence.
“I haven’t named you yet kajira”
“Do you think this girl will be a good slave Master ?” Tearful now.
He indicated his whip hanging from his pack
“You will be a good, pleasing slave, girl” He told her matter of factly.
“Yes Master.”
He unrolled his pack & stretched out on the makeshift bed, she curled up on her silk chador by the fire. The desert night was very cold.
“Come here girl.”
“Yes Master” She whispered frightened.
He had her curl up on his arm and permitted her to sleep, in his blankets. He was tempted to open her legs there & then, but preferred to wait enjoy her opening as a slave slowly. She snuggled up to his strong arm, grateful for his warmth, his kindness, hoping he couldn’t smell the slight wetness between her thighs. His domination thrilled her. As the fire turned to embers she could just make out his whip, she closed her eyes frightened & thrilled.
“Master….” He nodded “Thank you Master”
He grunted half asleep.
She drifted off to sleep wondering to herself what she was thanking the beast for.

baggage

The next three days were uneventful long hot treks, across the empty desert between watering holes. For his part he seemed to like the solitude, ignoring her, riding on the baggage mules behind him. Disregarded except to give her, her instructions in the evening, spending the evenings smoking hashish & drinking wine, while she fetched food & drink for him obediently. The most she could hope for some small talk amid curt instructions. He wasn’t being rude, or unpleasant to her, rather he wasn’t really interested in a girls conversation skills, & regarded her a slight inconvenience, perhaps wishing he had sold her after all.
He enjoyed the desert, & his lonely travelling trading across it. There wasn’t any riches to be found here, just a steady comfortable income. He had started out in the army, serving in elite pathfinder units. After a couple of campaigns, 3 battles & a severe stab wound, he had retired to the sailing life. Still not satisfied, & not wishing at all a settled life, he opted for the desert life. Travelling back & forth mainly trading narcotics, opiates & hashish, but also mushrooms & refined drugs. He also traded precious stones & pretty much anything he came across. Eastwards & westwards but also travelling north across the ocean when he felt like a change.
A couple of times he contemplated putting her between his knees, or raping her, maybe selling her at the next settlement. But reckoned she might prove more entertaining as he approached the more settled areas of his journeying. Besides which he actually knew the trader her shipment had been for. Had served with him, & in fact sailed with him. Although no value would be placed on her return, it provided an amusing reason to travel northwards & visit an old friend for a while, even if only on a whim.
On the 2nd night there was no well, He washed with a canteen of water, she along with the mules & his horse was given a bowlful to drink. Thankfully on the 3rd day another deserted oasis awaited them, on fourth day in the late afternoon they approached a tiny hamlet. Despite being basically a couple of taverns, a market and stables, it was surprisingly busy, saddled across the minor trade routes.
He watched as his mules cargo was unloaded & stored securely at the stables. Then he went to his usual tavern. He had attached a short leather cord to her ankles underneath her scarlet chador & pulled her along with the cord. Her ankles hadn’t been loosened at all & she stumbled, panicky after him, lest the leash tautened too much and she was pulled off her feet.
At the tavern he took her around the back to a walled courtyard. He sat down kneeling her besides him & a slave, naked apart from her veil brought Master Marcus a cold tankard of beer, from inside the tavern there was music & laughter. He dismissed the slave back inside. He removed her chador & bindings & permitted her to toilet in the gutter, allowing her a few mouthfuls of water from a stone trough. The water was stale & warm, the trough too small for any farm animal, designed for slaves. Nonetheless the thirsty girl was grateful, & even more grateful to be permitted to wash herself from another tank of water. He watched her drinking his beer then went inside the tavern & brought out some devices.
She was put inside a nether lock or chastity belt, a broad metal U shape fitting snugly, intimately, between her legs. The metal belt padlocked closed in front of her, the lock heart shaped. Her wrists, were braceleted & the bracelets locked to a ring on the rear of the belt. She felt numb, nearly speechless with indignation, but also with shame to be so excited, locked up like this, by him. The snug steel device had also been recently used & was still soiled by its previous occupants helpless frustration. She felt the sticky residue smear & slip on her own captive intimacies. Her ankles were shackled closely together. Lifting her head he pressed a thick leather ball into her mouth, securing it with the gags a broad strap, buckled & locked behind her head. She squirmed in the metal belt, helpless & vulnerable. He lifted her eyes to his, she was tearful & frightened, her blue quite startling & beautiful over the leather gag. As soon as he permitted she dropped her eyes to his feet, in humiliation & shame.
The metal gate was opened and a line of slaves were led into the courtyard. Chained together by the ankles. Ten girls all secured in full body hoods, in all destined for markets further down the trade routes. Marcus & the girl at his feet, watched the slaves as they were expertly herded into the courtyard and then shoved roughly into a leather curtained cage, legs were whipped to hurry them as the tiny cage was crammed full. The gate was locked & its leather curtain buckled closed.
He looked down at her & lifted a leather hood, she whimpered into her gag fearfully remembering the body hood, & its terror, blind. He decided not to hood her. Finishing his beer he led her to another curtained cage. Drawing back the leather, revealed a cramped cage, already occupied by 10 or so girls, owned & stored by patrons of the tavern. Some were closely bound, most had their ankles & wrists secured. A couple were gagged like herself & another two were hooded too. She was pushed inside the cage. As the gate was locked she wanted to cry out to him, to beg him to keep her with him, but she was quite effectively silenced by her gag. He locked the gate & the curtain was buckled shut, plunging her into total darkness. The smell in the cage was fetid with fear & the arousal of girls aching for their Masters.
Someone knelt close to her in the darkness comforting her, whispered almost inaudibly into her ear. “Welcome kajira”
From outside the cage a male voice shouted “Silence sluts”
There was suddenly absolute silence from inside the cage.
Marcus went inside the tavern, a naked slave preceded him carrying his bags & personal luggage up to his room. She opened the shutters allowing what breeze was to cool the room & knelt at his feet. He had her lay out some fresh clothes from his bag dismissed her with his laundry. He went back downstairs into the other, more pleasant gardened walled courtyard to relax in the shaded pool & drink some beer before dinner.
In the other courtyard a couple more women were pressed into the cage, the girls could hear the merriment from the tavern growing as the afternoon progressed into the evening. They could smell roasting meat & bread baking, most of the girls had been left hungry.
She felt an almost choking sensation of fear as the oppressive & fearful atmosphere, seemed to thicken in the cage as the loudness from the tavern grew. The curtain was suddenly pulled back & a girl summoned, dragged stumbling outside. Another girl was made to perform fellatio through the bars of the cage, the master spraying the other girls with his sticky pleasure, He seemed to make a point of ejaculating a thick wad into the girl formerly known as Karen’s face, the only blonde in the cage. Seeing her try to draw away he seized a fistful of her hair and sprayed her face again, laughing gustily at her obvious distress, he slapped her away.
The curtain was closed again & the girls listened to the slave outside being raped noisily by three men, eventually the soiled & sticky, sobbing girl, gagged & hooded now, was pushed back into the cage. This wasn’t to be the last of the nights visits. Each & any of the girls not locked or gagged were available for use, & were well used, another amusement of the tavern. None of the slaves were permitted to look up and see the Masters face who enjoyed them. In the darkness, fetid now with fear & sex, the nameless girl formerly known as Karen sobbed with fright, pathetically grateful now for her chastity devices.
The music & enjoyment from the tavern grew louder as the night went on. The occupants of the cages knelt waiting in silence. Utterly vulnerable, utterly powerless, frightened, waiting to obey & please their Masters. Utterly submissive to their every whim.
In the tavern Marcus enjoyed a plate of meat & roast vegetables, watching the dancers. After his meal, a dark haired girl with doe black eyes fetched beer & knelt between his legs. He enjoyed three girls in this manner as he chatted to the other men & drank watching the dancers. After midnight he took the first girl to his room, for the night. She was a submissive delight serving him perfectly, obedient & grateful. Waking him in the morning with her mouth, eager only to please & love him further.
He spent the next two nights in the tavern, relaxing and conducting leisurely business in the markets. She waited frightened, in the stuffy darkness of the cage, fetid with sex & fear, mixed with the overpowering smell of leather.
Quite rightly waiting for her owner to collect his mules & cargo, his property.

surplus baggage

He woke in her mouth, nearly coming, he seized her hair & held her firmly as he erupted in her mouth, in her face. It was quite early still cool, he gave the dark haired girl a moment to swallow then dismissed her, stepping into the stone wash room. The tiled room contained a large stone tank, filled with cool clean water. He used the toilet then splashed himself with the first panful of water, a shock to wake him, then threw panful after panful of water onto himself. He went downstairs for breakfast, bacon steaks & eggs, while he ate the dark haired girl polished his sandals. A timid whisper from his feet he looked down. The doe eyed girl from the previous night knelt there a little frightened to be so forward. Timorously she begged to be permitted to help polish his leathers. He looked down on her for a couple of seconds watching her tremble prettily, then granted her wish, these desert girls are so lovely so naturally submissive. After He had finished breakfast both girls knelt before him fastened a sandal each.
Soft lips pressed lovingly as they kissed his feet.
“Thank you Master” both girls whispered in unison.
He felt a soft tear drop from the lashes of doe eyed slave.
He sent them back to their chores & paid his account with the tavern owner.
Outside he drew back the leather curtain & unlocked the gate calling the blonde girl, with a snap of his fingers. She hurried nervously, anxious to be released from the cage. The previous night had been awful, there had been two fights outside the cage. One slave had been pushed into the cage, very new to her slavery, had become quite distraught sobbing & weeping. She had been pulled from the cage again & again that night, until the early hours. The girl literally stank of her multiple rapes, covered in sticky use. To make matters worse the tavern had been especially busy that night so the cage was crammed full, 20 girls in a space designed to be cramped for 10. The transport cage had been busy too, at least 4 shipments had been whipped into that enclosure.
Marcus released her from the chastity belt & gag, the crotch bar was sticky & slick with her fearful excitement, both devices were simply tossed back into a chest, waiting to be used again. She was permitted to toilet quickly, she hadn’t relieved herself for 2 days, her urine was syrupy & stung. She was given a bowlful of stale water, to gulp down. Her wrists were bound behind her again, his instructions were brief, curt. He didn’t bind her ankles close together today but spaced them 12 inches apart, leaving a long leather lead. She was put back into the chador, he took the end of the leather leash & led her to the stables.
In actual fact she should have been grateful for the inference of his binding. Generally slaves are bound, tethered by the neck, wives are normally tethered by the ankle. Similarly when a slave is branded, it is done at the smithies, when branding a wife there is a small ceremony as he accepts her as his property. Slaves are beaten whenever & wherever, wives are usually whipped in private. Collars & chains multiple slave fetters usually have a single key, whereas those of a wife are individual keys. All these distinctions are blurred by a particular Masters whim, she has no rights as wife or slave, merely his property. Similarly he meant nothing by her tethering, just more convenient to lead her by the ankle under the chador.
His mules & horses were already prepared, watered & loaded, the mules even more laden now after his business in the town. He took her ankle lead & attached it to the rearmost mule, she would walk behind the mules, tethered like them. Mounting his horse he slapped the first mule leading them out of the town. She followed behind last, & feeling the least, on his train.

property is stolen & recovered

His pace was slow & measured not wishing to tire out his slightly overburdened mules. She stumbled after him, tethered in her chador. Her feet burning slightly on the hot rocky sand. She was trying to walk on the bottom of the chador as much as possible to protect the soles of her feet. But this in turn kept catching & causing her to stumble every few paces or so. If he had noticed her difficulties, he didnt seem to care. In actual fact, they were irrelevant to him. After a couple of hours he stopped to rest for a few minutes, after he had watered his horse then the mules, he gave her a bowlful of water. She drank it dumbly grateful for the water, he didn’t converse with her, simply replaced her covering while he smoked a cigarette in the shade of one the mules. All too soon they were underway again.
He hadn’t noticed the probing eyes from inside one of the taverns this morning. Not been aware of hostile avaricious intent. He had come to a stony pass, the track being quite narrow, one side a high wall of rock, on the other a deep ravine. The track across was blocked a wagon hanging precariously over the edge. He hailed the two men struggling to pull the wagon back from teetering, starting to dismount from his horse. Too late he caught a glimpse of the shadow above. The heavy stone disk slung, from above hit him full on, on the side of the head, he toppled instantly, falling lifeless down into the ravine. The bandit wound his sling up & climbed down the cliff, looking over the edge of the ravine he saw Marcus’s lifeless body below.
She started screaming, shrieking with fear, squirming & fighting her bound wrists.
“Shutup girl” A swift cuffing slap across her face stunned her into silence.
Trembling uncontrollably she was seized and stripped of the chador, rough cruel eyes assessed her curves, a probing finger, confirmed she was still white silk. He lifted her eyes to his, probing deep into her lovely blue eyes, she was suddenly very, very still.
“Blonde & white silk, quite delightful!”
He let her head drop she lowered her eyes quickly too numb with fear to mumble anything.
“We’ll open your legs tonight, slut” He laughed.
“Yes Master” She sobbed.
She was roughly gagged with what seemed to her a quite enormous ball-pecker gag. The violating, protuberance completely filling her mouth. It was attached inside the leather bag that she was hooded roughly inside. The thick leather hood buckling shut around her neck, the tightness of the hood holding the gag firmly in place. She was terrified & utterly compliant. Her wrists were still bound behind her, her ankles were lashed closely together with her former lead. She was then casually tossed over a muscular shoulder & flung inside the now upright wagon. She landed next to another girl, also hooded but chained rather than bound who squirmed blindly out of the way, making room for her. There was a muffled gagged cry of confusion, from the other girl, the girl formerly known as Karen whimpered back fearfully. He pushed both of them face down in the wagon.
“Silence sluts” He barked, there was silence.
The man closed the wagon cover and the three men sized up the haul, on the mules. Satisfied they set off again down the track further into the heat of the desert. The pace was quick and eager to be away from the scene of the crime. They chatted as they rode. The wagon ride was bumpy & uncomfortable, neither girl dared to lift their faces from the floor. The girl formerly named Karen fearfully waiting her fate. Both dreading the wagon stop for the night.
Day turned to evening & the light fading, they finally neared the spring, tired & aching, the men were stretching & laughing, as they began to relax. Suddenly he was there, a flash of steel, the horrible sucking sound of a blade being pulled from flesh, a shout of fear then the sigh of death. The second mans throat was already cut as the third springing into action way too late, trying to get round behind their assailant, a swift violent stab & he too slumped lifelessly to the ground. Marcus rooted through the men’s clothes for any paperwork or identification, pocketing that & any money he found. He cut all three heads from the bodies, tossing the heads into a leather sack, leaving the bodies to be devoured by the desert insects, there would be small bounty for killing the outlaws.
He had seen the stone a split second before it hit him, turned his head enough to turn the fatal blow to a glancing one. Still it had stunned him & his fall had been genuine. He’d fallen from siege towers before, knew how to relax & roll, the drop had merely winded him. He’s lain only a couple of minutes as his robbers moved away, then set off to intercept them. He had been running all day across the desert, to flank them, with every step his head was pounded, adrenalin making him more & more angry fuelling him.
They were bandits, scum, had left him for dead, cowards. He wiped his blade on one of the men’s clothing, & spat on the body. Mounted one of the horses and spurred the other horses & mules into life. The two girls had listened to the struggle, helpless & powerless, not knowing who was fighting whom. They were merely property.
He arrived at the spring & dismounted. Looking inside the wagon he was not unpleasantly surprised to see 2 slaves, amongst the other loot.
He unhooded the blonde first, she looked up at him sobbing thankful for his presence.
“Master” she whispered “You rescued this girl, came back for her”
“Don’t be silly girl, I came for my valuable goods.” He indicated the cargo on the mules.
Her eyes stung with tears but she was still incredibly happy.
He unbound her limbs, she kissed at his hands & arms.
“Thank you Master”
“Go and fetch water & begin preparing my food”
“Yes Master, thank you Master.”
She rushed off to obey, full of relief. She watched him over her shoulder, as he unhooded the other girl. She was dark haired, but pale & blue eyed. He took a good look at her, voluptuous she was about 19. Veiled & wearing a tiny skirt wrap & bikini top, in glossy transparent yellow, talender yellow, her garments were fringed with worthless ornamental coins.
“I hope you aren’t white silk as well girl.”
“No Master this girl has served all three men all & every night, since they stole her from her fathers caravan.”
“Excellent.” He said pushing the gag back into her mouth, watching as her pupils dilated, prettily over the gag.
He hooded her again & leaving her still chained, put her face down on the floor, to rape her, enthusiastic & forcefully expending his adrenalin in his pleasure. The blonde watched appalled & jealous, she wanted to run to him to kiss him beg to serve him with her. Tearfully too timid & self conscious she started preparing his food. He finished with the girl quickly then sent her to help while he bathed in the water. They whispered hellos & greetings. When the food was cooking he permitted them both to toilet & then bathe quickly in the water. The two slaves were given a bowl of water each & a coarse grainy biscuit between them, the horses & mules got two each.
She had previously been called yasmin, he permitted her to keep the name, needless to say that wasn’t the name she bore in her fathers caravan, slavegirls are always renamed. The blonde girl still wasn’t permitted a name.
After he had eaten he lit a hash pipe & yasmin crept between his legs to please her new owner, the blonde girl fetched wine & more hash while he enjoyed yasmin’s soft lips. He watched the earth girl illuminated by the camp fire, curiously. She was blushing & squirming sweetly with embarrassment, though every chance she got she glanced over at yasmin’s service. How reserved she was, yet how ripe her coyness made her, earth girls make such helpless slaves once their inhibitions have been taken from them.
He thoroughly enjoyed yasmin in his bedding that night, when he had finished with her he called the blonde over to join them. She cuddled up to his side. Yasmin reached out & held her hand in hers, with sticky fingers. On impulse the blonde lifted the soaked fingers to her lips & kissed them. Yasmin pressed her veiled lips softly on his still semi erect penis & smiled knowingly at her new sister. He grunted in his half sleep.
She squirmed pressing her thighs together, aching for the morning.

yasmin is a good girl

She was woken as the dawn started to break, yasmin shaking her gently awake with a smile.
“Wake up sleepy girl, go & make coffee while yasmin wakes Master.”
The blonde yawned & whispered “Ok, yasmin”
“Oh and fetch a wet cloth, soaked in cool water”
She obeyed quite pleased that yasmin had taken charge, knew what was expected, how to please master. Nonetheless she became quite distraught as she fumbled with the wood & kindling, Yasmin came over to help, eventually helping her in teasing a flame out of the tinder. Yasmin went back to the master as the blonde heated the coffee jug. She fetched a soft silk cloth & soaked it in the cool spring, watching over her shoulder the pot boiling. Steam started flowing out of the jug, she poured in ground coffee beans & stirred, carefully. The aroma was strong & delicious, no ersatz decaff here. Then she returned to masters bedding half hidden behind the mules unloaded baggage, sheltering his eyes from the morning sun. Yasmin was kneeling over Master’s hips performing fellatio. The blonde nearly squealed with hot embarrassment, flushing bright red. Recovering her composure she knelt to one side holding the coffee cup on its tray in both hands.
Marcus woke just as the blonde knelt down, enjoying yasmin's warm lips on his erection, he held her firmly by the hair, & came strongly in her mouth & face. Finished he took his coffee from the blonde, reaching out for the proffered wet cloth, groaning as he pressed the cloth to the huge bruise on his head. Yasmin rushed & fetched another wet cloth & mopped his brow. The blonde was sent to prepare his breakfast, cooked skewers of meat & vegetables served in flat bread. His food smelt delicious, after he had eaten & drank plenty of coffee he permitted the slaves a bowl of water each.
He took his time getting ready this morning, the next stop was only half a days ride. The mules were loaded, & some of the load dispersed into the wagon. He strung the 3 extra horses, he had now behind the wagon, the last horse had the unpleasant load of the leather bag, containing the bandits severed heads, fortunately it was well sealed.
He took a last cup full of coffee & lighting a cigarette, he had the two girls kneel before him, he was rifling through a red leather bag. The blonde was forlorn & wistful, she had enjoyed coffee & the occasional smoke on earth, especially in the morning. She would be permitted neither here, nor the leisure of the free.
“I think its time you had a name girl.”
She looked up hopefully, desperately wanting a pretty name.
“Tilly will suit you for now”
“Yes Master…tilly thanks you Master.” It was a lovely, name for a slavegirl.
“It sounds even prettier with your barbarian lilt girl.”
She blushed, flustered “Tilly thanks you Master”
He rooted through the leather bag, pulled out a yellow veil identical to yasmin's garment, fringed with cheap worthless coins.
“Some suitable clothing for you as well girl.”
“Oh thank you Master.” She gushed.
“Give tilly your veil yasmin.”
“Yes Master.”
The dark haired girl quickly removed her mouth covering & handed it to the blonde, helping her to fasten the slippery silk across the bridge of her nose. Her eyes if anything were even bluer & more startled looking framed by the yellow veil & her golden hair. Tilly was desperately embarrassed, the veil was still sticky, slimy & redolent with Masters pleasure. She tasted him on her lips. Tears sprung into her eyes as she realised he had intended this & was amused by her reaction.
“Very pretty.” He told her “Especially when you blush girl.”
“Thank you Master” she whispered, nude except for her soiled veil, trying to hide her growing humiliated arousal.
She wasn’t permitted any more clothing. Yasmin was given the clean veil.
“Thank you Master” yasmin said softly.
He took a slave whip from the bag
“On all fours, both of you now !”
The girls hurriedly obeyed, they knelt before him fearfully. Tilly had never felt so vulnerable, so powerless. Terribly self conscious of the fact that her weakness & his dominance was agonisingly arousing her. She could smell the dampness between her legs & yasmin's arousal, utterly ashamed.
He removed some steel devices from the bag, laying out a collar, wrist & ankle bracelets & 2 steel belts, in front of the kneeling pair. Yasmin of course was already collared & braceleted, the new set matched perfectly. The collar & fetters were plain & but elegant, a thin steel band oval in shape, no wider than a finger, very graceful & strong, with attached rings were arranged in strategic positions. He put the collar on tilly without ceremony, simply snapped it on her neck, locking it & removing the key. It fitted snugly on her slender neck like a choker. She gasped at the touch of the cold steel, the sudden implacable symbol of ownership. Knowing she would not be removing the collar, men decided her fate now.
He went behind her fettered & locked her ankles together, doing the same to yasmin. Then expertly taking her wrists behind her he braceleted both tilly & yasmin, locking the belly ring around each girls waist, securing wrists behind them, both girls now face down at his feet. He took a short chain, no longer than 30 inches in length from the bag & attached it between the two girls collars securing them together. The final touch a largish bell swinging loosely on the chain, a coffle bell. He stood behind them, softly swinging the whip, caressing both girls upturned buttocks with the leather tab. Yasmin's slip was so short she was fully exposed in this position. He allowed the tab to stray near both girls wet lips, watching them quiver vulnerable & aroused.
“Yasmin you will pierce & bell tilly when we stop tonight.”
“Yes Master.”
“Thank you Master” whispered tilly, quite huskily.
“Get up both of you, before I change my mind & whip you”
They both struggled to their feet, tilly taking her cues from yasmin, trying to rise gracefully, pleasingly. They were hefted into the wagon, kneeling prettily amongst the packages. He closed the wagons coarse cotton covering. They looked tearfully, into each other eyes, both girls knowing that the other knew how desperately aroused the other was. Knowing that He knew also, helplessly longing for his touch, his penetration. Knowing he could enjoy her as & when he pleased, it was perfectly acceptable & desirable for her to lie alone, miserable, tormented by her needs, waiting his touch.
They listened intently to him as he finished his cigarette & urinated, before mounting his horse, setting off again.

tilly is learning her place

They rode in silence for a while, listening to the horses clip clop on the sand. The wagon cover was thick cotton, not even the sun could be seen through the thick covering. The chain between the girls kept them intimately close, either side by side or kneeling facing each other. The only seated position permitted to women was kneeling. Both girls curled up close to each other, due to the constraints of the chain. On the hard wagon floor. A leather mat shielding the pair from the rough wood. Curled up on the scarlet leather, with attached straps & rings yasmin didn’t tell tilly that it was a pleasure or rape mat. The pair drifted off enjoying the enforced closeness, each others soft smells, as well as more intimacy, of the more feminine scents. Yasmin was pressing her knees together, she smiled weakly at tilly, as she saw she was watching intently. She answered the unasked question, silly barbarians with their modesty.
“It doesn’t help tilly.”
“Oh!”
“It makes a girl long for him even more.”
“That’s why yasmin loves it, aching for Master.”
Tilly was quiet, her breathing laboured through her new veil, her nostrils filled with the scent of his pleasure.
When she awoke tilly found that yasmin had shifted in her sleep & was spooning her from behind. Her sisters thighs were wet & slippery, slithering on the backs of her legs & her buttocks. She was embarrassed to feel her own smeared wetness. She lay there enjoying the bittersweet piquancy of her shame, secretly hoping that master would open the curtain & discover her. The cum soaked veil was now stuck wetly to her lips she had no way of displacing it, the humidity of her breath was causing the slippery yellow silk to slither in & out of her mouth. There was a highly polished shield in one corner of the wagon, she watched her reflection in the mirrored metal. Watched the phallic depression, shaped by yasmin's fellatio, deepen & shallow suggestively. How she wished her hands were free now so she could touch herself. Especially as she correctly suspected that this would not now be permitted to her. Causing her at the same time to ache to masturbate & be thrilled at masters control of even that. How she wanted master to open the curtain now.
Yasmin was squirming rhythmically in her sleep, rubbing her soaked lips on tilly’s leg, moaning & whimpering. “Master, oh Master” Over & over in her sleep.
Tilly say a shadow thicken through the curtain as Marcus rode close to the wagon, quite obviously listening to yasmin's cries. Tilly was suddenly terrified he might open the curtain.
He chuckled loudly & muttered something incomprehensible before riding off again.
Tilly was weeping longing for him to return & open the curtain.
The heat & motion of the wagon, made her drift off again. She was on her knees before Master Marcus, pleasuring him, taking turns with yasmin pleasuring him, squirming wetly, still chained by the neck, but also joined by an extremely, large & penetrating, fantastically slippery U shaped dildo. Both girls becoming desperately more & more excited as he enjoyed their perfect kisses.
The curtain was drawn back suddenly waking them sharply, for an instant both girls blinked in surprise, looking up at the three bemused male faces, looking down at them. Then both hurriedly knelt upright, blushing furiously.
“Perhaps I should sell the pair of you to a Mistress.” Marcus laughed
“Pleasing little sluts.” Another pejorative laugh.
“Yes Masters thank you Masters.” yasmin & tilly whispered. Tilly slightly after her sister.
“Come here & serve us coffee”
“Masters, yes Masters, thank you Masters.” They chorused together.
Marcus unchained both of them & they prepared a small fire, yasmin supervised tilly as she made the coffee, & showed her how to roast flat sweet biscuits in the fire. Her barbarian sister learning eagerly & quickly, in more ways than just domestic.
Both girls knelt prettily before the men & served coffee & biscuits. The men were discussing the bandits & a corpse they had buried yesterday further eastwards, probably a victim of those same bandits. Marcus was congratulated & thanked warmly.
The men being slavers, or slave traffickers, some interest was shown in the two girls, especially the blonde. Marcus had no intention of selling either, & both parties knew that well. But they decided to tease the blonde, especially as she was still blushing shyly, serving the men nude & quite evidently a little aroused as she still was. One of the men had tilly stand before him & subjected her to an intimate fondling & examination. She was too embarrassed to speak or protest, especially when he dipped a finger inside her testing her hymen, then had her lick his finger clean. He took his time fondling & weighing her buttocks & breasts. Examining her hair, especially the yellow, golden sheen, tracing it from her roots to the ends, resting on her buttocks, she had always kept her hair long. Germanic or Saxon blondes are only barbarian, gorean blondes are Scandinavian, white blondes only. Resulting in at least half of those slaves imported being Saxon blonde. He pinched her nipples & putting a riding crop between her legs, lifted her too her tiptoes, staring into her deep blue eyes. Noting the wideness, the refraction of her pupils.
He was quite matter of fact in commenting to his companion & Marcus on her charms, she began to feel like a piece of meat, or a slave.
“Perhaps we can find some room for her in the cage” He commented to Marcus, offering perhaps an opening haggling gambit.
Her examiner followed, her agonized eyes, flickering first to Marcus, then to the leather covered cage behind the two strange men. Seeing her gaze linger on the small cage her examiners companion unbuckled the leather curtain. He parted the covering, revealing the captive occupants. Twenty women, in very tight, full thigh length leather body hoods, were crammed & cramped inside. Kneeling on the wooden floor, heads bowed by the very low height of the bars. Sensing or feeling the sudden circulation of air on them, or at least their lower legs, not covered by the hoods, the slaves began to stir.
“Silence” the examiners companion barked, there was a sudden fear filled quiet. The curtain was lowered & buckled again.
“Perhaps.” Marcus replied
The men sat thoughtfully in silence, watching the blonde, trembling tears welling in her blue eyes, beautiful over the yellow veil.
“But not today.” Marcus said after a couple minutes that seemed like hours to her.
She was crying, thankful & relieved.
Her examiner shrugged, not disappointed in the least, slaves even blonde barbarians are easy to come by, & cheap. He allowed tilly to kneel back down & held the tab of the whip to her mouth. For a moment she looked puzzled, then realizing began to lick it clean.
“She needs a taste of this.” He commented to Marcus on the delay.
“She will get more than a taste sooner rather than later.” Was his reply.
The three men laughed.
More coffee was served. The second man indicated with his fingers for yasmin to kneel before him.
“Clean my sandals girl”
“Yes Master, thank you Master” She began to kiss & lick them.
He stopped her & indicated she was to remove her bikini top. Quickly she undid her top allowing her beautiful belled nipples free. She began cleaning & polishing his sandals with her clothing.
The first man snapped his fingers at tilly. “You too girl.”
“Yes Master, thank you Master” She looked up confused, was she to use her hair or tongue.
The first man reached out & removed yasmin's slip handing it to the blonde. It was quite damp. Tilly knelt over his feet & eagerly polished, becoming quite excited by even this small act.
Marcus looked on satisfied. After tilly had finished with guests sandals he had her polish his. Yasmin was taken around the back of the two men's slave cage. There was a wet slippery sound & a sigh & grunt of pleasure, & a helpless moan.
A short time he took tilly, re-chained her & put her back in the wagon, joining his guests.
Yasmin's yielding was loud & rapturous, tilly listened in tears of frustration, after the men had finished with her & she had cleaned them she was pushed back into the wagon & chained again by the collar to tilly. She was flushed & very sticky, & very happy. The two girls held each other tight, as tightly as two slaves can with their wrists chained behind them. In tears tilly rubbed herself in yasmin's stickiness, licking a splash of semen from her sisters face. Yasmin kissed the blonde lovingly, hoping her sister would soon be opened for a masters pleasure. Both girls were naked now except for their veils, both physically & emotionally.
Entwined like this the two girls listened as the men bade their farewells. No farewell or goodbye was said to them. The wagon set off again.
He permitted them to chat inside the covered wagon, as long as they were quiet & didn’t intrude on his thoughts. Tilly was very curious about yasmin. She had been stolen from her fathers caravan, by the bandits. Not an uncommon event in the desert. In any case she was of marriage or enslaveable age, being eighteen. Being the third daughter slavery was a forgone conclusion really. Her father & family had chased the bandits for two days, before giving up. Not for her but for the merchandise they had stolen with her. To her, her slavery was natural & cultural, men her rightful owners. Tilly was thrilled and appalled as she listened, but very thrilled.
He stopped the wagon & lifted the cover.
“The sea, girls.” He said to the pair, as they gazed across the sands to the crashing waves. So beautiful & wild, nothing but the sea line & sky for miles.
“Thank you Master.”
He lowered the cover & continued. The two listening in silence to the crashing waves as the wagon bobbed along
Yasmin was especially grateful for his kindness.

When they stopped it was still light. A little sheltered beach, near the outlet of a small freshwater stream & pool, a few palm trees & firestones completed the idyllic location. There was a larger much more popular oasis further along the coast, this was virtually his secret.
They were to remain naked, the girls, unpacked, made camp & prepared his evening meal while he bathed in the pool. While he ate they were permitted to wash in the pool. He gave them an oat biscuit each, from the mules bag. He fed them from his hand, the two girls kneeling before him, while he enjoyed a bottle of wine. The two girls of course did not but had a bowl of fresh water each. It felt so homely & comfortable to tilly, she was beginning to feel so happy to be owned & dominated by this man.
Yasmin knelt down with tilly, in the light of the fire, as Master Marcus went down to the beach, to smoke some of his hashish on his own. Taking a long sharp needle she first heated the spike in the fire. She then pierced the blondes ears & nose, her nipples & clitoris too. Tilly sighed & gasped, whimpering prettily as the hot needle sizzled its way through her soft flesh. Yasmin told her she thought she would scream terribly when she was branded. That stopped her theatrics, the blonde was quiet & thoughtful for a while.
Yasmin felt guilty & kissed her sister.
“This girl did too.”
“Did yasmin ? Does it hurt ? Does it hurt terribly ?”
“Yes.” It was yasmin's turn for tears now.
Tilly traced her fingertips on her sisters brand, now pink & well healed & very pretty on her right buttock. A graceful K or kef & the mark of her last owner. Tilly wondered what Master Marcus’s mark was like, & if would be as pretty.
Sensing her sisters thoughts yasmin pressed her thumb into her sisters left buttock, barbarians are commonly branded on the left cheek. The nude pair hugged each other, weeping softly.
Tilly winced in pain as tiny belled rings were threaded through the holes. A small coin like disk was added to her clitoris ring, a vendors coin, a vogue new fashion, made popular by the taverns of the north. She was given locking belled anklets & bracelets, a long belled & coined chain was locked around her waist. Excitingly a similar arrangement was locked between her legs, these symbolic bonds were locked with tiny heart shaped padlocks. There was no key, once locked only Master had a master key. But most exciting to tilly was her taut nipple chain, with its single freely swinging bell. She was now a belled slave, the tiny chimes would betray her every movement however tiny, a belled animal. Her eyes glowed with happiness, as did yasmin's seeing her sisters joy.
Yasmin also taught tilly how to wash properly with the thick greasy slave soap, most importantly in caring for her long golden hair. Tilly was especially grateful for this. She had always loved how boys had coveted her for her long hair, & despite herself loved how Masters examined it, judged her on it. Secretly loved the thought of the expression she had overheard, roughly translated as ‘blow job blonde’. Masters are very strict with blondes especially barbarians. She would love that too, earth slaves are such bimbos & as such love flattery, even if that flattery is a slavers sales talk, or a masters firm discipline, to be ‘too beautiful to be free’.
When Master Marcus returned from the beach he examined plucked the chain, causing a frisson of pain & sexual excitement, not entirely unnoticed or intended by him. She nearly melted with need before him. Her nipples were very erect now. He kept hold of the chain, keeping her standing before him gingerly. Very tempted to rape her there and then, but a slavegirl can be raped at any time, he savoured her growing erotic submission. He picked up his slave whip, a pleasure crop, or whip, the leather was shiny, well worn.
“tilly come here”
She looked up frightened
“Yes Master, at once Master.”
He pushed the whip to her veiled lips, not very forcefully but enough to press the sheen of her veil into her soft lips. She kept her eyes lowered, he lifted her deep blue eyes up to his, while she kissed the whip. She was quite beautiful, her eyes wide & frightened, under lush lashes, framed by the gold of her hair & the lurid yellow of her veil. The shaft always felt much thicker, more brute to a girl when its pressed to her lips, or her intimate lips. The leather tasted pungent through her veil, the tab smelling strongly of sex & fear. She was trembling.
“My slaver companion recommended you taste the whip tilly.”
“Yes Master” was her hesitant, very timid reply, she was ready to burst into tears.
He tossed the whip to the floor.
“Fetch it”
On all fours she went to the whip, and picked it up in her mouth. He was pleased to see she did so without instruction. She returned quickly to his feet. He took the whip from her mouth.
“Perhaps you should learn your lessons & responses a little quicker girl.”
“Yes Master” she wept, terribly frightened now, kissing the whip.
He put the whip away. She sobbed almost choking with relief.
“Thank you Master, thank you Master.” She was crying as she kissed his feet.
“Stop dropping tears on my feet & fetch my wine kajira” He told her curtly.
“Yes Master, at once Master. Thank you Master !”
She quickly went to the wine bota. She was extremely aroused, & more so she knew it was obvious to both Master Marcus & yasmin. How glad she was not to be beaten, & how she wished he had disciplined her.
He enjoyed yasmin's fellatio, while tilly served him more wine.

The slightly cooler night air woke her, yasmin was still asleep, Master Marcus was not. She had initially cuddled up into the warmth of her sleeping sister, but then with a start realized he wasn’t there. She sat up looking about her frightened. Then she saw him sitting on the shore, smoking. She got up & walked quietly over to him. When she was a few feet from him he said without turning.
“Hello tilly ?”
“Master may this girl fetch you anything ?”
“You can fetch me a black coffee, mix wine in the brew girl.”
“Yes Master, thank you Master.”
She went to the embers of the camp fire & stoked them, boiling a small pot of water. She mixed in ground coffee & thick red wine then brought it too him.
Returning she knelt before him began rolling the cup on her belly. He stopped her, and permitted her to simply kiss the rim lovingly, before offering it to him.
“Master may tilly kneel with you Master ?”
“Yes girl, kneel here” he indicated a spot close beside him.
“Thank you Master ?”
As she knelt he permitted her to kneel closer. The night sea air, was quite cool, she shivered naked before him. Clutching weakly to his well muscled arm, she kissed his arm & chest. Brushing her long hair down her back, he lifted her eyes to his. Her need was very evident, in her lovely deep blue eyes, so helpless & vulnerable.
“…Master ?” her voice was trembling.
“Yes girl.”
“Master do you find tilly pleasing ?”
“If you are not pleasing do you think I would hesitate to punish you girl ?”
“No Master, this girl thinks you wouldn’t hesitate to punish her, Master.”
He was silent.
“Please keep this girl under strict & perfect discipline Master”
“There is no doubting that girl.”
She squirmed slightly, a soft wet squidging sound, they both heard it. They both could smell her arousal.
“Perhaps you should sleep in bracelets & the iron belt (nether lock/chastity belt) girl”
She was so pretty, so intensely embarrassed. He waited.
“Master…..”
“Please Master…..”
He remained silent holding her eyes with his.
“Please Master, please rape this girl,”
He slipped a finger into her wetness, between her slippery lips, she panted for breath nearly fainting with excitement. He put the soiled finger to her lips, to her shame it glistened in the moonlight. She licked it clean, simulating fellatio, while he kept her eyes in his & watched her veiled lips.
“There is plenty of time to split your legs & open you for male pleasure girl”
He permitted her to lower her eyes, she was in tears & blushing furiously.
“In your new life, you will be well and frequently raped. Indeed, your life, in effect, will be one of rape, sexual, physical & emotional.”
“Yes Master, thank you Master.”
“Would you like to be braceleted & locked like a little slut ?.”
She hesitated for a second then replied with a candour that thrilled her.
“Yes Master very much so.”
“Well then for now it will not be necessary will it girl ?”
He had her fetch him another wine then sent her back to lie with yasmin. Yasmin had been awake but pretending to be asleep. Tilly snuggled into her arms. Tilly knew yasmin had been awake & listening, & she was glad. Moreover she knew that yasmin knew she was glad.

sex on the beach?

The slightly cooler night air woke her, yasmin was still asleep, Master Marcus was not. She had initially cuddled up into the warmth of her sleeping sister, but then with a start realized he wasn’t there. She sat up looking about her frightened. Then she saw him sitting on the shore, smoking. She got up & walked quietly over to him. When she was a few feet from him he said without turning.
“Hello tilly ?”
The belled girl couldn’t move without him knowing, her pretty decorative chimes had given her away from the moment she stirred from her sleep. But also he had heard the warm wetness between her legs, & knew from her smell of unrequited slave heat that it was the blonde. Not the well raped & redolent yasmin. Indeed even the swish of her long golden hair gave her away, with her hesitant, demure approach.
She knelt in front of him, a little frightened to have approached without permission, breathlessly excited. How lovely & submissive earth girls are when they learn to be slaves.
“Hello Master may this girl fetch you anything ?” her voice was hesitant.
He left her to kneel in apprehensive silence for a few long seconds.
“You can fetch me a black coffee, mix wine in the brew girl.”
“Yes Master, thank you Master.” The relief in her voice was evident, she nearly gushed. How pathetic & reliant on men they were, how she deserved her collar.
She went quickly to the embers of the camp fire & stoked them into life with a long stick. Careful not to smear ashes on herself, or get the stink of wood smoke on her body or hair. Even when performing the most trivial of tasks, she must do so gracefully & prettily. She boiled a small pot of water & poured it into his cup, a heavy pot mug. She carefully mixed in ground coffee, thick red, & fragrant herbs wine then brought it too him. It smelled delicious, how pleasant it is for men here, she thought to herself. How glad she was to serve him.
Returning she knelt before him began rolling the cup on her belly. He stopped her, and permitted her to simply kiss the rim lovingly, before offering it to him.
“Master may tilly kneel with you Master ?”
“Yes girl, kneel here” he indicated a spot close beside him.
“Thank you Master ?”
She was thrilled she had meant to simply kneel before him, not as she truly desired & he had now indicated, to kneel so closely, almost touching him, in the aura of his body heat.
As she knelt he permitted her to kneel even closer. Her skin tingled & burned where her thigh pressed to his leg, she felt incredibly hot & flustered. The night sea air in contrast, was quite cool, she shivered naked before him. Clutching weakly to his well muscled arm, she kissed his arm & chest. Brushing her long hair down her back, he lifted her eyes to his. Her need was very evident, in her lovely deep blue eyes, so helpless & vulnerable.
“…Master ?” her voice was trembling.
“Yes girl.”
“Master do you find tilly pleasing ?”
“If you are not pleasing do you think I would hesitate to punish you girl ?”
“No Master, this girl thinks you wouldn’t hesitate to punish her, Master.”
He was silent.
“Please keep this girl under strict & perfect discipline Master”
“There is no doubting that girl.”
She squirmed slightly, a soft wet squidging sound, they both heard it. They both could smell her arousal.
“Perhaps you should sleep in bracelets & the iron belt (nether lock/chastity belt) girl”
She was so pretty, so intensely embarrassed. He waited.
“Master…..”
“Please Master…..”
He remained silent holding her eyes with his.
“Please Master, please permit this girl to pleasure you ?” Her eyes were moist, welling with tears.
He parted her knees with his hand. Then slipped a finger into her wetness, between her slippery lips, she panted for breath nearly fainting with excitement.
“Do you want me to take your white silk away girl.”
“Yes Master.” She panted
“Stain your thighs red, make you red silk ?.”
“Yes Master !”
“Be just another blonde slut, squirming at men's feet.”
“Yes Master, this girl begs you to open her.”
“Blow job blonde bimbo, come in your face & hair, down your breasts, gag her with her own hair, or panties if permitted & rape her ?.”
“Yes Master.” She was almost whimpering now.
“A little slut to be whipped & raped.”
“Yes Master.”
“Say it, beg for it, slave”
“Master please, please rape this girl ?.”
He was silent watching her, pressing his finger between her legs as she squirmed.
“Please Master,………please Master, please rape this girl ?” She was moaning hotly now in her excitement.
He put the shamed soiled finger to her mouth, to her embarrassment it glistened wetly in the moonlight. She licked his fingers clean, it reeked of her. Not permitted to look away, girls are rarely permitted to meet masters eyes, or even look up above a masters belt, however if she is permitted to meet his gaze she may not look down again without his consent. With her eyes held in his she licked his finger clean, simulating fellatio, while he kept her eyes in his & watched her veiled lips. Her own juices were thickly spreading & seeping through the yellow veil, causing the glossy sheen to break where it stuck to her lips. She would look lovely looking up from behind another slave, arousing each other for a masters pleasure. Veils & hair plastered to their faces coated in each others juices. Before pleasuring him of course.
“There is plenty of time to split your legs & open you for male pleasure girl”
His comment was matter of fact, like a cattle trader. She was indeed nothing more than stock, & he had been on occasion a slave trader. Actually the average slave served for between 15 & 20 years before aging causes her to be naturally disposed of. If a girl is sold too frequently she may be considered too much trouble, similarly incurring a masters displeasure, can also curtail her toleration. He had no doubt though that this little blonde, kept well whipped would serve her owners well. After her first sale she would most likely be resold, on average every 18 months or so.
He permitted her to lower her eyes, she was in tears & blushing furiously. His comments & rejection stung so.
“Yes Master” She felt utterly humiliated. In her realization that her need was unimportant to him, & thusly to her. He was the Master his wishes were important, she was merely there to serve those wishes. That control & denial made her want him a thousand times more. Knowing that this was utterly irrelevant to their relationship, made her kneel before him in wonder. How magnificent men were here.
“In your new life, you will be well and frequently raped. Indeed, your life, in effect, will be one of erotic violation, subjection to physical plunder & emotional ravishment, but above all sexual rape.”
She shuddered, at his frankness & the sensuous erotic images reeling through her mind.
“Yes Master, thank you Master.”
“Would you like to be braceleted & locked like a little slut ?.”
She saw herself locked in the steel belt, its heart shaped padlock ringing out as she squirmed, reminding her of his control. The padlocks on these devices were usually quite pretty, and designed to titillate but also to fascinate her. It would be easy to incorporate the lock into the device itself. But the small highly polished lock, swinging & clanking mostly on her front, sometimes behind, sometimes both, constantly reminding her of her locked status. The rounded bar slick & hot between her thighs, soaked with her juices. Its firmness & inflexibility contrasting with the feminine softness & malleability of its captive. The masculine textures of leather, her gag & hood & steel, her collar, her bracelets, the belt, indeed the branding iron, only permitted & applied to women to control & restrain them. Her fists clenched in impotent frustration locked behind her. Often a girl will have her bracelets chained to the iron belt, rather than the separate waist manacle, or iron girdle, a simple locking steel loop with strategic rings. Her hands chained behind or sometimes in front, dependant on padlock placement, the effect was very pretty, & somehow the arrangement made her feel even more helpless. Quite often the effect is so pretty, as to invite fellatio, before she is dismissed. Or her unlocking & rape, & quite often if she is to confined again in the belt, she is not permitted orgasm, simply locked up again & dismissed.
She hesitated for a second then replied with a candour that thrilled her.
“Yes Master very much so.”
“Well then for now it will not be necessary will it girl ?”
“No Master, thank you Master.”
How he enjoyed toying with & teasing her.
He had her fetch him another coffee & wine then sent her back to lie with yasmin. Yasmin had been awake but pretending to be asleep. Tilly snuggled into her arms. Tilly knew yasmin had been awake & listening, & she was glad. Moreover she knew that yasmin knew she was glad.
She woke again in the early hours Master Marcus was asleep between the two girls, who were holding hands across his stomach. He was erect in his sleep & had rolled towards her. She pressed her breasts softly on his erection, enjoying the texture of his hardness in her soft breasts, rolling slightly as she breathed. Her head on his belly, her veiled lips inches from his swollen glans. Smelling him, smelling yasmin on him, smelling his seed, mingling with the smells of her own wetness soaked into her skimpy veil. Lying there, wishing he would wake up & see her, feel her.
Her dreams were full of him, from this angle a slavegirls perspective. Inches from his erection, from always underneath, or below, inferior. Her being, her life defined by his dominant maleness, his phallus. Yasmin woke her from her dreams, in the early light, the two girls quietly tidied the camp watering the animals & prepared for his waking.
When yasmin went to wake Master with her lips, tilly went with her & kissed the head of Masters penis softly, her mouth & lips were so moist she fully lubricated his glans with one sweet kiss, before yasmin shooed her away. In other circumstances she could & would be punished dreadfully for such impertinence.
“Slut !” she mouthed silently.
“Slave !” tilly replied before running to prepare coffee.
As she prepared breakfast & Masters coffee she listened in tears to yasmin's squeals of delight, as he came in her mouth, then pulled her down & raped her.
His head was still throbbing so after his breakfast, he lay down in the shade of the tent. The two girls were instructed to gather all the leather harnesses & equipment, & clean & polish them thoroughly. The animals were to be groomed & watered, laundry & dinner prepared.
The two girls knelt closely together, thigh to thigh. Yasmin slipped a hand then another between her legs & coated her fingers with masters use, then she wiped her hands on the interior surface of her blonde sisters veil. Tilly was so overcome with emotion, she held her sisters sticky hands in hers & both girls wept for a few brief seconds before resuming their chores. Yasmin had not been permitted the rest of her clothes again, so both were naked except for their glossy yellow veils. The contrast was quite beautiful two naked slaves kneeling before a pile of leather polishing eagerly, listening to Masters snoring.


He woke himself, and lay watching the two girls working, now at the laundry buckets, scrubbing & cleaning. Yasmin suddenly aware, over the whispered conversation, that his snoring had stopped turned with a startled look.
“Yasmin bring coffee, tilly bring massage oils.”
“Yes Master, thank you Master.” Both girls chorused happily, springing up delighted to serve him.
He noticed tilly’s veil plastered & stuck to her face immediately. Still moist from her breath & stinking of his pleasure.
“You look well with a mans use in your face girl. I hope you like the smell.”
She blushed & replied through the saturated veil, that stank of him.
“Yes Master thank you Master, tilly loves the smell of your pleasure Master.”
She felt her thighs moisten with embarrassment & arousal at her candour.
“In the taverns of the northern towns, girls like you perform fellatio all night long, your hair face & any clothing you are permitted covered in creamed bukkake.”
“Yes Master.”
“Covered in the Masters pleasure that you haven’t swallowed girl”
“Yes Master”
She licked at the veil tasting the sticky glutinous seed. Wondering how it tasted how it felt spurting hotly, exploding violently in her mouth. She shivered with helpless excitement.
“You will look well then too girl.”
The blonde knelt suddenly on all fours and kissed his feet.
“Yes Master, Thank you Master”
He watched her amused, the smell of her arousal strong in his nostrils. He decided not to punish her for her impudence. Kissing his feet without permission.
He slipped a finger between her legs, wetting it with her rape soil. Then slowly traced a brand on her creamy buttocks.
“You will brand like butter girl, like a red hot knife burning through butter”
She was suddenly anxious, overawed by her fate.
“Yes Master, please Master will you brand tilly Master ?”
She wanted it to be him, and only him.
“The smithies iron will brand you as property just as well girl.”
She was silent in tears at his feet.
“Your flesh will sizzle and yield to the iron nonetheless.”
“Yes Master thank you Master”
He made a loud sizzling noise.
She sobbed.
He slapped the blonde soundly on the buttocks.
“Tilly get on with my massage.”
“Yes Master thank you Master”