A New World

A New World

I: Toe

"Guilty," the black-robed judge announced from his raised bench, pounding the lectern
with his gavel.  "The female is hereby stripped of all rights and status as a person, and
is to be sent to the Regional Processing Center.  Sentence to be carried out
immediately.  All appeals, present and future, are summarily denied."

The girl's parents looked on in stunned silence as the two bailiffs ripped the coarse
cotton dress off her otherwise naked body and strapped a thick leather collar around
her neck before forcing her to her knees.  Their fifteen year old daughter was going to
spend the rest of her life as a slave, and neither she nor they would ever know the
reason why.  Thanks to the Crime Secrecy Act, defendants were no longer allowed to
know the nature of the accusations against them.  By keeping secret the specifics of the
allegations, the Congress said, national security would be enhanced.  Terrorists would
never know what information the government had, and would therefore be unable know
how they were caught.  Of course, their daughter wasn't a terrorist, but the law applied
to any allegations of criminal activity.  

The newly sentence slave was young and beautiful, as most were.   Just a sophomore
in high school, not even a really woman yet, though her body certainly looked like one. 
At five feet six inches tall, she weighed a mere 110 pounds.  Skinny by most standards,
though not waifish at all.  Not fully developed, just a 32B, but with a strong, athletic body
and thick, muscular thighs resulting from five years of track competition. Short, light
chestnut hair set off her dark brown eyes.  Eyes that were now filled with tears.  She
tried to glance over her shoulder at her parents, only to be rewarded with a harsh hank
on her leash.

That she would be convicted was preordained; fewer than one out of every two hundred
females accused of crimes were ever released, and those were virtually always the
daughters of wealthy,  influential people who could manipulate the system to their
personal benefit.  As with most corrupt systems, it was the wealthy and influential - and
often government officials themselves, or their family members - who were most likely
to have actually committed their crimes.  For the less fortunate, the "proof" was often
unsubstantiated allegations, heresay, and circumstantial evidence.   Sheri's parents,
while well-to-do, were hardly wealthy, and the outcome of the "trial" was, therefore, a
foregone conclusion.  Not knowing the charges, not even permitted an attorney to
represent her, they'd realized the situation just hours after her arrest.

In preparation for her conviction, like all girls facing the same fate, she'd been carefully
denuded and cleaned prior to her court appearance.  Her pussy, which she'd kept
neatly trimmed, was now totally bare, her sphincter still aching from the enemas she'd
been given to clean her out.  She'd not been fed for the two days of pre-trial
confinement, given only drug-laced water to ensure her docility.  Now naked, collared
and on a leash, she was led crawling outside to the waiting transport truck.  Slaves
were always taken out of the courtroom in this manner.

She was the first conviction of the day, so the vehicle was otherwise empty.  Nothing
more than a heavy plexiglass box mounted on a truck chassis, it was unheated and the
only ventilation came from tiny leaks around the doors.  Though late spring, the morning
air blowing off the ocean was damp and frigid, and the light breeze causing her naked
body to shiver.  There were no seats, and even the floor was of the same transparent
material, permitting the girl not a modicum of privacy.  As usual, a number of
adolescents - both boys and girls - had already arrived to watch the spectacle of newly
sentenced criminals being placed in the "cuntmobile," as it was colloquially called.  The
girl herself remembered standing in the crowd just two weeks ago, jeering at that
week's consignment of naked, convicted females headed to their new lives as slaves. 

Now, though, she was the subject of those same stares and not-so-suppressed giggles. 
Se realized with a shock that several of the faces in the small crowd forming outside her
plexiglass prison were familiar.  Her circle of friends - former friends, she mentally
corrected herself - had come to see her off, to complete her humiliation.  She started to
cover herself with her hands, then remembered how she'd complained when other
newly sentenced slaves did the same, just to watch them be publicly beaten, and
worse.  Tears formed in the corners of her eyes as she sat down on the transparent
floor, closing her eyes momentarily and hoping this was all a bad dream.  A knocking
sound brought her back to the reality of her nightmare; a trio of young boys she
recognized from her neighborhood were standing outside the van, motioning her to
spread her legs.  She had no right to disobey.  Crying softly, she exposed her denuded
sex to the adolescents, burning with humiliation.  She'd been in the boys' place before,
staring at someone who had no right to privacy.  Now, the roles were reversed.

Now she was the one without rights, without even a name, she realized.  No longer to
be called "Sheri," nor to take anything for granted, she realized.  She was not even a
"she" anymore, but an "it," a thing, a piece of property.  Slave meat.  Her best friend -
former best friend, she again corrected herself - was outside the van, staring at her,
making lewd motions with her mouth and hands, like she was sucking a cock.  Another
boy she knew from school thrust his crotch out at her, laughing.  The message was
unmistakable. She'd refused his advances only days earlier; no longer would she have
the luxury of saying no to anyone.  Her former best friend moved closer to the van,
pointing at the hairless area between the new slave's spread thighs, talking rapidly to
her friends, then laughing.  Sheri's face burned with humiliation, but she could also feel
herself getting wet.  She couldn't understand why.  Tears ran down her unblemished
cheeks.

Over the next few hours, the van slowly filled with other females, most somewhere
between their early teens to mid-20's, but some older, and one easily in her forties.  By
early afternoon the container was a mass of naked female flesh, each body pressed
against the other.  The combined odors of the thirty women, some of whom had been
gang raped just before their hearings, filled the van.  The sun had warmed the day, and
the temperature inside the unprotected prison van rose steadily, causing the slaves
packed inside to start sweating.  Unlike Sheri, who was still a virgin, most of the other
prisoners had been repeatedly raped both before and after their court appearances. 
The stench of cum, cunt and sweat was overpowering, the only relief coming from the
momentary opening of the door while another poor, unfortunate female was shoved
inside.

With the day's trials finally over, the sun was setting as the transport van finally
departed for the Processing Center.  The trip took a full eighteen hours of non-stop
travel, during which the cargo - for that's what the females were now - were given no
respite.  Without room to sit or lay down, many fell asleep in an upright position, simply
leaning against each other.  Most, however, were unable to even obtain that small
luxury, fearful that any sleep might result in their last breath.  Some, like the slave
formerly known as Sheri, hadn't eaten in well over two days, and the knotting cramps in
their stomachs kept them awake.  Others had a full meal just before their arrests, only
hours before, and suffered from motion sickness.  Most of the females urinated at least
once - the drugged water contained a strong diuretic - and a few became ill from the
swaying motion of the vehicle.  The sound of vomiting and the accompanying fetid odor
caused many of the girls to wretch, resulting in the floor being covered in a thick,
globular muck.

Arrival at the Processing Center occurred at mid-morning, just before the hot sun
reached its zenith.  Isolated in the desert, it occupied a portion of a former military base
which had been closed decades earlier in the era of budget cuts.  As the sole surviving
superpower, the United States had long ago abandoned most training installations
inside the country, preferring to confine the environmental abuses inflicted on terrain by
tanks and bombs to the foreign countries it now occupied.  The entire complex was
several thousand square miles, containing a full dozen camps with similar, albeit slightly
different, purposes.  Although each compound was contained within a fence or wall, this
was merely for psychological purposes.  There was no escape from the brutal sun nor
the flat, bare terrain.

Although the resumption of slavery was still in its infancy - barely 20 years old now -
those managing the training centers quickly adapted to slave training the age-old
methods used by the military: dehumanize and break them down, then rebuild and mold
them into whatever you desire.  To this end, every step of the initial processing was
conducted as impersonally as possible.  These were not people, but things.  Property,
with no rights;  just privileges they must first earn.

As the transport van pulled in to the facility, it was directed into a small, walled area. 
Once secured inside, the rear hatch was opened and the cargo directed to exit. A
reception committee consisting of six naked, collared slaves supervised by two burly,
uniformed men carrying cattle prods, carefully sprayed each of the females with a
strong disinfectant solution, followed by a cold rinse.  This was not necessarily out of
concern for disease, but to quell the stench from the prolonged ride.   The female cargo
didn't care; while the soap solution burned the skin, the water felt nice and refreshing. 
It was the closest thing to comfort any of them would feel for a very long time.

Once the washing was completed, the slaves were lined up and the identification tags
on their collars checked against the court files.  Two of the new slaves were found to
have exchanged collars in an apparently attempt to confuse the training center into
believing their induction into slavery was a mistake.  This was nothing new to the cadre,
and the two slaves were immediately removed from the group, screaming in pain.

As each female was positively identified through photographs and retinal scans, she
was taken to a small table where her identification brand was applied.  The current
technique involved brazing with a laser, rather than branding with a hot iron, and little
more discomfort than a bad sunburn.  A bar code was applied to the back of each new
slave's neck, and her identification number embossed across the middle of her right 
buttock and on the sole of her left foot.  These were simple traditional formalities,
though; the real identification was the tracking chip implanted in the side of each slave's
neck, providing instant computer identification and GPS tracking worldwide.  With
today's technology, there was no place a slave could hide. The next step was total
denuding; barber's shears, then a razor, were used to remove each slave's scalp hair
and eyebrows.  A chemical depilatory was applied to the rest of each slave's body,
removing all hair on the areas it touched.  Two more applications would be required, at
which time the follicles would be completely dead.  While their scalp hair and eyebrows
might be permitted to grow back, the slaves would be otherwise permanently hairless.

Finally, the part that most of the new slave girls dreaded the most, the ringing.  Each of
the girls was pierced five times: a metal grommet in the nasal septum, though which a
thick stainless steel ring was imbedded; a somewhat smaller, much thinner ring in each
nipple, and still smaller ones through their outer labia.  Most of the slaves were
dismayed to discover their rings were silver; after training, they'd be subjected to the
humiliation of being sold at public auction.  Those who were divorced knew their former
husbands would have the first right of purchase, a thought that caused two of the
slaves to shudder in fear.  Sheri was surprised to see her rings were gold; she was
already owned by someone.  Probably, she correctly assumed, the person who filed the
criminal complaint against her in the first place.

While each slave now was officially identified as a number, it was recognized early in
the new era that names were simply easier for both Master and slave to identify with. 
Since a slave's name could change at its Owner's whim, a decision was made that the
new slave should start learning as soon as possible to respond to whatever name she
was given.  The slave formerly known as Sheri, now identified as 890234F189-7C3, felt
fortunate in this regard.  Her new name was "toe."  The girls on either side of her were
now known as "dog shit" and "cunt slime."  None of them new yet that their names
would be changed regularly.  Again, this was part of the training process, to teach the
slaves to respond to whatever name they were given.

The initial physical modifications completed,  the new slaves were herded into a small
room, where they were given terse, direct instructions on exactly what was expected of
them.  Total, absolute, complete obedience.  Any hesitation to obey any command
would result in severe punishment.  Silence except when spoken to, although screams
during punishment were permissible, they were told.  Specific positions they were to
assume were demonstrated and practiced; corrections consisted of a riding crop
applied to their backs, shoulders, thighs or buttocks.  When not otherwise occupied,
remain kneeling.  Knees spread, hands interlocked behind the head.  If performing
some task and approached by a Male, assume a squatting position, toes pointed
outward, eyes focused on his crotch, again with hands interlocked behind the head. 
Positions on all fours, back, and belly, and variations of each.  An hour of seemingly
endless drills...kneel, squat, beg, down, back, belly, commands coming first at five
second intervals, then increasing in pace, until no thought was necessary on the part of
the slave.  When the command was given, the position was simply assumed as though
an automatic reflex. 

The next phase of processing was the most thorough, humiliating medical exam any of
them had previously experienced.  Even the assembly-line physicals conducted by the
military paled in comparison.  It was not until after the standard vision, hearing, reflex,
height, weight exam and blood draws that the true humiliation began.  In full view of the
numerous staff and visitors who assembled daily for this very event, the new slaves had
their bodies poked, prodded, tweaked and twisted.  Measurements of inconceivable
worth were taken  - distance between nipples, breast droop, tongue length,  distance
from navel to clitoris, length of clitoris when erect - all designed simply to humiliate, and
nothing more.  Then the photographs.  Facial.  Full frontal, side and rear view.  On all
fours, front, side and rear.  On their backs, fingers spreading the labia.  Closeups
detailing the asshole and cunt.  More photos of both, after spread open with specula. 
Then the finger, palm, foot and lip prints.  Blood drawn for testing, including DNA.  All
the while naked, and forced into a loving embrace with the girl next to her, tongue-
kissing and fingering each other's sex while waiting for the next indignation to be carried
out.  

For toe, the true humiliation came when she was strapped to what would have passed,
in another era, for a cross between a doctor's gynecology exam table and a torture
rack.  In truth, it was a bit of both. After her wrists and ankles were strapped down,
specula were used to force both her lower holes widely open.  Electrodes were
attached to her temples, wrists and chest, and small probes inserted into her cunt and
asshole.  Fingers squeezed her breasts, all the while the electronic device in the corner
recording her responses, measuring the elasticity of her vaginal opening and the
amount of fluid she was producing.  Toe had always produced copious amounts of
lubrication, and much to her dismay, she could feel herself immediately beginning to
juice up.  The fingers moved to her belly, then to the cleft of her sex, slowly but
incessantly rubbing up and down her now-sopping slit.  Suddenly, a tiny electrical
charge was applied directly to the tip of her erect clitoris, eliciting a loud scream as toe
experienced her first forced orgasm as a slave. The technicians recorded her
responses in her training record, carefully jotting down the exact instrument readings at
the precise moment of orgasm.  It wouldn't do, they knew, for anyone to unwittingly
allow a slave to cum without permission.  To permit a slave to orgasm due to
negligence or ineptness meant punishment; a slave would receive demerits and a
beating; but a free person, as these technicians were, could get fired, so it was
important to exactly record each slave's exact orgasm point.  Toe was brought to seven
more orgasms, each more humiliating than the one previous, her responses detailed in
the computerized logs.  As a final degradation, the technician who had been fondling
her wiped the slime off his hand onto her belly.

Once the testing was completed, initial training began immediately.  Slavers had long
ago learned that physical and emotional exhaustion were very effective means of
breaking a new slave, and they went at it with a gusto.  For the next 48 hours, the
slaves were worked without break.  Constant physical exertion - mile-long runs, endless
squat thrusts and deep knee bends, sprints and manual labor - punctuated with a thirty
second water break every hour, ensured the women were physically exhausted and
mentally drained.  The first to fall out during this initial torture session were brutally gang
raped by the facility's specially trained canines; those who simply slowed down during
the runs or exercises were subjected to shots with cattle prods and whips on those
most sensitive of their body parts.  Just seeing this happen was enough to keep toe
from the faltering.

Finally, the initial "breaking in period," as it was euphemistically called, was concluded. 
The exhausted, filthy, smelly females were ushered into the dining hall, though it could
hardly be called such.  A large, windowless room harshly illuminated by bright
incandescent lights hanging from the tall ceiling, the floor was smooth concrete with
rows of round indentations evenly spaced.  In each depression was a few morsels of
high-protein dry food, the consistency of compressed sawdust.  Directly to the left of
each food cup was mounted a small phallic-shaped container filled with a clear liquid. 
Upon command, each slave girl knelt in front of her meal, and with her hands clasped
behind her back, began to eat.   Toe soon discovered that she would have to  lower her
mouth and completely engulf the water-filled dildo, then suck forcefully, before it would
dispense any liquid.  Alternating between the tasteless food and sucking water from the
imitation penis, toe's food was gone well before her brain declared her full.  Hunger was
a slave's constant companion while in training.

Finally, after three full days of complete and utter humiliation and abuse,  it was time for
the naked women to be permitted their allotted rest period.  They were herded to their
cells - nothing more than steel dog cages barely large enough to crawl into - and
secured for the night.  No further abuse was inflicted, though the cramped cages and
lack of any protection from the cold, hard concrete floor resulted in very little actual rest. 
Toe dozed intermittently, awakening each time one of her muscles or joints screamed
in pain.  The moans of the others filled her ears, acting almost as white noise, and
lulling her to a fitful sleep.

Morning dawned all too early for toe and her companions, their wake-up call being a
water hose turned on them while they struggled to crawl out of their tiny quarters. 
Kneeling at a rigid attention, they shivered as the cold water dripped from their naked
bodies, awaiting the next command.  A large black man with a shaved head walked
slowly up and down the line of cold, wet women, absentmindedly tapping his right thigh
with the riding crop he held.  He used the crop as a tool, stopping here and there, using
it to reposition a slave's head, or to lift a naked breast.  He lashed out with it once; one
slave, a few girls down from toe, dared to lift her eyes to look at his face.  The crop
swooped down, catching the offender on the side of the face, actually breaking the skin. 
Once the girl recovered from the blow, the Master presented the whip to her lips and
forced her to kiss it, then to thank him for correcting her.  He continued his inspection,
this time behind the girls, after ordering them to all fours, asses shoved high into the air,
fully exposed.  Again, he stopped to correct a few, using the crop as a prod, forcing a
back to be arched more gracefully, knees to be spread wider, and ass to be raised
higher.  

"Too slow! No breakfast!" their tormenter shouted out to their dismay.  "Maybe you
cunts will learn better than to take so long to get out of your warm, comfortable beds
next time!"  The tiny morsels they'd been permitted the previous evening had barely
staved off the gnawing that now rumbled in their bellies, the hunger now enhanced by
the knowledge that they'd get no more food for the time being.

The new arrivals were told to turn sideways, so they were lined up head-to-foot, and
wait as each girl's nose ring was chained to the ankle of the slave in front of her.  The
lead slave -- the one the Masters had named "kotex," had a leash attached to her
collar, and they were led down the concrete hallways, crawling on hands and knees for
their work assignments.  Those who were to work inside were escorted directly to their
stations in the kitchen, laundry or housekeeping areas.  The few selected for outside
work - toe was among these - were first placed in heavy iron chains.  The twelve inch
hobble would prevent them from running, and restraints between their wrists - attached
to a chain locked around their waists - limited arm movement.  Toe and two other girls -
called radish and fuckmeat - spent the day each pushing an old-style manual rotary
lawn mower over the expansive grounds.  Urged on by the threat of no food until the job
was done, they completed their work in near-record time, and the entire grounds was
mowed in time for lunch.  Lunch was a repetition of dinner the night before, with the
exception that there were a few vegetable peelings in with the dry food.  As before, the
water was medicated; in addition to nutritional supplements and antibiotics, it contained
a powerful birth control drug.  It wouldn't do to get a slave pregnant before she was sent
to her Master.  A side effect of this particular drug was that it stopped menstrual cycles;
it wouldn't do to have a slave "out of commission" for such a trivial thing as a bit of
bleeding; menstrual cramps would continue to occur, but a slave's discomfort was of no
concern.

Immediately after lunch, a special assembly of all the slaves and staff was called.  The
two girls who traded collars were to be publicly punished.  The new arrivals were placed
on their knees in the front row, to be afforded an up-close view of the futility of any form
of deception or disobedience.  The two were brought out in chains; it was obvious
they'd already been beaten, whipped and raped; this began almost immediately after
they were dragged away from their incoming group, and had continued non-stop until
just a moment ago.  Their bodies were covered with angry red stripes from the whips
used on them; their breasts, cunts and asses were battered beyond belief.  What the
throng could not easily see was that both slaves had broken ribs, one a broken leg, and
the other was missing two teeth that had been knocked out.  But all this was simply the
warm-up; the real punishment was yet to begin.

Both girls were injected with a powerful stimulant, immediately bringing them to full
consciousness.  They groaned as awareness returned to them, the pain of the beatings
nearly taking the smaller of the two back to unconsciousness.  Neither would be so
lucky, though.  Once awake, they were each bound on all fours, ass high and legs
lewdly spread, over metal frames.  Once totally helpless, the girls were subjected to
more torture.  After being publicly raped by the dogs again, each girl's cunt was stuffed
with feces and then sewn shut.  In a few days, infection would set in, but long before
then, they'd beg for death to come.  More whips, then flames, were applied to their feet,
hands, faces, breasts, and assholes.  The girls were not gagged, and their horrific
screams filled the air as the torture continued.  One was told she could stop the pain if
she ate a bowl full of dog shit; she did, and was then told it was all a lie.  The other's
nipples were cut off, and then she was forced to chew and swallow them.  Fingers and
toes were snapped, bring forth frightening howls of pain.  Wires were attached to their
clits and electricity shot through their bodies, causing them to spasm frantically.  Finally,
they were subjected to the current version of crucifixion, both being nailed, upside
down, to an inverted pentagram.  Religious doctrine at the time said that in this manner,
the two would be sent to serve Satan as his slaves after death.  The girls would remain
secured to the pentagram until they died, intravenous solutions guaranteeing full
awareness and a slow death taking days to occur. 

During all this, several of the new girls tried to hide their faces or turn their heads; two
became ill at the stench of burning flesh.  Toe, however, did neither.  Instead, she
watched intently, looking at the situation with a very clinical and detached mind.  These
weren't people being tortured, they were property.  It was no more wrong to beat,
torture or kill a slave than it was to take an old, worn out couch to the dump or throw
last year's telephone book out.  Instead, she focused inward, on her own responses. 
The only impact anything had was the screams; for some unknown reason, she felt
herself becoming sexually excited.  Unknown to her, the reactions of each slave was
being carefully monitored and recorded.

After the four hour session was over, toe and the other new arrivals were taken into a
classroom.  Kneeling on the floor, they were given written examinations to help evaluate
their emotional condition after what they'd witnessed.  These, as well as continuing
analyses, would be added to the psychological profiles which were started while the
slaves were still free, pending their trials.  Toe's was evaluated quickly - there was a
special interest in her - and the results were not surprising.  The psychological
evaluation conducted before her trial already showed latent submissiveness; testing
after the punishment only confirmed how profoundly submissive she was.  A natural
slave, the psychologist noted.  She'd be worth following.

Dinner was the same as breakfast, only this time, the water tubes contained milk and
there was a tiny piece of pork fat in each bowl.  The girls, immune to anything but the
aching in their bellies by now, devoured their meals in record time.  Most assumed
incorrectly that they'd be permitted to rest now, but their evening chores awaited.

The next nine hours found toe learning to spit-shine the boots of the center cadre.  She
was not, however, permitted to use saliva.  Instead, she was forced to repeatedly
masturbate while kneeling on the hard ground, then use her vaginal secretions to
moisten the boots, eventually bringing them to a mirror polish.  Her allotment that night
was six pair of boots; unfortunately for her, she was able to only complete half her task. 
Her Trainer, disgusted, dragged her back to her kennel.  She would, he told her, be
punished the next day.  As uncomfortable as it was, toe quickly fell asleep on the cold
concrete floor, exhaustion overcoming the worry over her impending punishment.

First Punishment

As before, toe and her fellow slaves were rudely awakened by the harsh, ice-cold spray
of the fire hose.  This time, they quickly assumed their kneeling positions and awaited
inspection.  Today, their inspector was apparently pleased with their much quicker
response, and permitted them breakfast.  All but toe, that is, and three others who had
failed in their tasks or performed some other grievous misdeed the previous day.  While
the rest of the slaves slurped up their meal - today consisting of a thick, warm gruel
- toe and her companions were forced to kneel in the corner, knees spread widely, and
watch.  Toe's belly ached and rumbled as she watched, barely realizing that a mere few
days ago she would never have considered it a privilege to eat like an animal, naked,
from a bowl.

'Let's go, sluts!" a woman's voice commanded, bringing toe out of her silent thoughts. 
Toe looked up to see a beautiful, slender blonde, wearing a black leather jump suit and
spiked heel knee-length boots looking down at her.

"Turn to the left," she commanded, "Nose to asshole."

The four unfortunates did so, waiting on hands and knees while the woman clipped
each slave's nose ring, with a small length of chain,  to the two labia rings of the girl in
front of her.  To the last slave's cunt rings, she attached a long cord to which a small
wheeled cart was tied; ten pounds of weights rested in the cart.   Toe, third in line, could
see little other than the bruised ass ahead of her, her nose mashed deeply between the
girl's thighs.  It was the first time toe's face had ever been this close to another girl's
sex; she found the strong odor of unwashed, sweaty pussy strangely exciting, and
could feel her own cunt begin to juice up as a result.  Toe heard a muffled snap as a
leash was clipped to the lead girl's nose ring. 

The only warning she had that they were beginning to move was a squeal from the girl
in front of her, and then a tug on her nostrils.  The moment she began to move herself,
though, she felt a sharp tug on her own nether lips, as the girl behind her lagged in her
response.

The little procession was marched down a series of hallways, through several heavy
steel doors, then onto an outdoor path covered with pea gravel.  The rocks, though tiny
and round without sharp edges,  dug deeply into their already abused palms and knees. 
The escort neither slowed down nor paid any attention to the slaves' groans,
maintaining an even pace.  Their destination was but a few dozen yards away, but their
roundabout path took nearly thirty minutes.   Had toe been able to see anything but the
asscheeks of the slave in front of her, she would have been able to catalogue the entire
compound.

The building from which she just exited was the largest, containing several isolated
slave stables, a large food preparation area, and the slave dining room.  It was
constructed of red brick, the few windows covered with both heavy steel bars and thick
ballistic glass.  There was but one entry, a sallyport arrangement of two heavy,
electrically-operated sliding doors with a small foyer between them; electronic interlocks
prevented both doors from ever being opened at the same time.  The only outside
ventilation was in the staff work areas, primarily guard stations from where staff either
controlled access to the buildings or watched over the slaves.  Though well over two
stories tall, except for catwalks used by staff, there were no floors above ground level;
the height of the walls was meant to impress the sense of smallness, of insignificance,
on the new slaves.

A small asphalt yard on the east side of the building held a dozen sets of medieval-
looking heavy wooden stocks, for punishing the more recalcitrant slaves.  Asphalt to
ensure maximum heat absorption and transfer, and with an eastern exposure to ensure
no shade.  The surface under each of the stocks was stained with the remnants of
dripping perspiration, urine and feces of previous victims.  In one corner sat six small
steel-sided sheds. Too small for a slave to stand, sit or lay down, they were used for
special cases.  Even when watered twice a day, no slave had ever survived more than
three days inside these burning hell holes without coming out completely and utterly
broken.  Even the threat of a visit to this punishment yard was usually enough to cause
immediate submission.

On the west of the building, extending from the kitchen, was an enclosed walkway
leading to an adjacent building, the staff dining area.  Unlike the slave feeding stations,
the staff dined in comfort not dissimilar to those of any decent restaurant in America. 
Polished oak tables, carefully folded linen napkins, comfortable chairs, and an ever-
changing menu of food - steak, seafood, pasta, salads, even a wide variety of hors
d'oeuvres - all prepared by slaves being trained in culinary arts.  Air conditioning and
slowly-rotating ceiling fans ensured a comfortable meal.  The seating was four to a
table, with a slave assigned to each table to provide whatever was needed - a service
that often went much further than filling wine glasses or clearing dishes from the table.

The staff also had the option of eating bistro-style, in a quaint outdoor patio surrounded
by lush shade trees.  This time of the year, though, use of the patio was usually
reserved for late evening socializing; it was simply too hot, even in the shade, to enjoy a
meal.  No matter, for the area was completely cleaned before and after each meal,
whether it was used or not.

About 30 yards west of the bistro and actually attached to the slave building via an
underground passageway, sat two buildings where the majority of the staff lived.  Single
apartments, with all the comforts one would expect - air conditioning, satellite television,
private baths, even kitchenettes for those who didn't want to walk to the dining room. 
Nicely appointed and immaculately clean, with comfortable furniture and a nice overall
atmosphere. Slaves were brought in daily to clean, and a single telephone call would
deliver virtually any slave in the compound to provide whatever service was desired,
sexual or otherwise. 

South of the main slave building sat a wide running track, similar to those used in
athletics, but at a half mile, twice the circumference and nearly three times the width. 
The size was necessary due to the training equipment in use here; modified pony carts,
capable holding up to three people and pulled by a single slave, were lined up at one
end.  On some weekends, the public was invited to participate and wager on events in
which slaves were hitched to the carts and raced each other around the track.  This
was, however, a minor sideline to the real purpose of this area.  The real reason was
the large cinder block building across from the grandstands, the slave gymnasium.  It
was in this edifice that the slaves would experience their worst pain and greatest
humiliation. 

Each of the structures was surrounded by the same sort of gravel path as that which
was inflicting so much agony on toe and her companions.  Similar, winding paths
connected each building, though it was possible to take either direct or non-direct
routes.  The Trainer leading toe had chosen the later. They continued crawling in agony
for a full thirty minutes, until finally coming to a stop.  Toe heard the now-recognizable
sound of a steel slider door opening, and then they were all ushered inside.

This was the Visitor Center, which sat alone, nearly a quarter mile from any of the other
buildings.  Except for special dignitaries, this would be the only building any visitor to
the training center would see the inside of.  Typically, it had stone tile floors throughout. 
The center was a large open area with large windows, multimedia displays, and padded
benches for those who wished to rest.  A set of large restrooms with oversized stalls sat
between the souvenir stand - where one could buy anything from bumper stickers and
logo pencils to the use of a slave for a few hours - and the snack bar.  For those who
wanted to "test drive" a slave, a special viewing area was available through an
unmarked door.  Slaves waited in glassed-in cubicles.  When a slave was available for
use, the shades on her windows were open; if she was being used by a customer, they
were closed.  Condoms were never necessary; all the slaves were clean, and either
"fixed" or intended for impregnation.  As a side note, in the vernacular of the day, the
same terminology was used for female slaves as dogs or other animals; they were not
sterilized or had their tubes tied, they were "fixed."

Most of this, of course, was unknown to the four slaves.  Except for the one at the front,
none had seen anything but ass cheeks and cunt lips during their travel to this building,
and even the lead slave had been so engrossed on keeping both her nose and labia
intact that she paid no attention to her surroundings.  Now, though, they simply waited
quietly on the cold, hard tile floor, thankful that their immediate abuse had ended..

"When I release you, you will place the tip of your nose in the asshole of the slave in
front of you," their Mistress commanded.  "No talking, and no moving.  You're all
already in enough shit,"

Toe sensed movement ahead of her, then felt the chain on her own nose being
released.  She obediently shifted her head slightly, poking her nose into the anal
opening in front of her.  She waited patiently while the girl behind her was released,
flinching slightly as she felt the girl's nose enter her own ass.

"Keep those assholes plugged," the woman commanded, grabbing the lead slave by
the ring and bringing her around, causing the group to form a tight circle, nose to
asshole.  She had them in position in short order, then gave her next command. 
"Tongues out, sluts!  Stick your tongue right inside your girlfriend's cunt and keep it
there.  The trainer quickly stepped around the circle, ensuring each of the girls had
done as directed.  Until today, Toe had never been so close to another female's sex
before, and had never placed her tongue where it was now.  She found both the taste
and strong odor of the unwashed 16 year old's body exciting. She could feel her own
cunt dripping fluids into the mouth of the girl behind her.  

"Wait here," their trainer ordered.  "No moving, or you'll all be punished."  The clicking of
the woman's heels on the polished tile floor receding in the distance was muffled by the
thighs pressed tightly against toe's ears.  The slaves reveled in the moment, being
permitted a few minutes to relax.  Toe actually started to fall asleep, her partner
keeping her awake by thrusting her ass back in toe's face every time her mouth started
to release.  Teamwork and watching out for each other were important to the slaves,
they were discovering.

"What have we here?" a loud, deep voice announced.  "A lesbian circle jerk?  Get those
slutty tongues out of those scummy holes, bitches, and line up facing me!"

The four slaves quickly disengaged and assumed their standard kneeling positions,
facing a huge, hair-covered, bearded man.  In his meaty paw he wielded a quirt; on his
belt was a device none of the girls yet recognized, but would soon become intimately
familiar with - an electronic stun gun.

"You bitches are being punished!" he yelled.  "Bitches being punished don't get the
privilege of resting on their knees.  They squat! Get your fucking feet flat on the ground
and squat with your knees spread apart, bitches!  Do it!" He accentuated his command
with a sharp slap of the quirt across toe's face, leaving an angry red welt.  The four
slaves squatted as best as they could, legs spread as far apart as humanly possible. 
When the Master was satisfied with their position, he simply stood back and watched,
waiting for their legs to tremble from the strain, finally failing.  One of the girls next to toe
was the first to fall.

"Four hundred demerits," he announced.  'The next one gets three hundred, then two
hundred, and the last survivor gets one hundred demerits.  You, cunt," he said to the
girl on the ground, "get on all fours like the bitch you are and present your ass to me for
punishment!"  She crawled slowly over to him, fear visible in her eyes as she turned
around and lifted her ass into the air.  The quirt fell repeatedly, eliciting small moans at
first, then shrill squeals and finally loud screams of pain as her pummeled her ass,
stopping only when the second girl fell.  This time it was toe.

"Present your tits to me," he commanded.  Toe knelt at his feet, arching her back to
raise her as-yet unblemished breasts to him.  The first blow landed right on her nipple,
causing her to scream in pain.  Subsequent slaps landed across and on top of her
still-growing tits, leaving bright red welts that would eventually turn to dark bruises.  Toe
struggled to remain upright, praying to every God she'd heard of that one of the other
girls would fail soon.  It took nearly ten minutes, by which time toe's once-unblemished
melons were covered with so many red stripes that they blended into a single swollen
mass.  The third girl to fall only received fifteen blows, but these were delivered directly
on her sex.  Even the winner of the contest was punished, with ten stripes to the backs
of her thighs.

"You bitches have no idea how lucky you are!" the Trainer announced.  "Fuckups like
you usually spend the rest of the day on the rock pile, but there's some special scut
work that needs to be done, and you're just the ones to do it!"  Of course, none of the
girls believed any of this, particularly the part about being lucky, but after being
reconnected nose-to-cunt again, crawled behind him as he led them to their next painful
humiliation.

"It seems someone forgot to clean the urinals last week after visiting day was over," the
Trainer said when the "slave train" finally stopped.  Each girl found herself kneeling in
front of a filthy porcelain urinal.  The odor was overpowering; it was obvious that none
of the fixtures had been flushed or cleaned in some time.

"Kneel upright," the Trainer commanded, before binding each slave's hands behind her
back.  "You will each clean your assigned urinal, using your mouth and tongue only," he
announced.  "The first bitch done with her pisser will be rewarded, but if the work isn't
acceptable to me, it won't be a nice reward.  Now, get those tongues to working!"

Toe looked at dismay at her assigned urinal, her stomach doing flips.  It looked like it
hadn't been cleaned in years; a thick crust of yellowing something  - she wasn't sure
what - lined the edges of the basin.  What nearly made her puke, though, were the two
very wet, soggy cigarette butts and a piece of chewing gum someone had spit out.  Toe
hesitated just a fraction of a second too long.

"Get that tongue to work, bitch!" the Trainer screamed, smashing toe's face into the
filthy porcelain.  "Start licking, cunt!!"  The urinal was now tinged red from the blood
streaming from toe's nose.  Her eyes watered from both the pain and the tears, but she
knew she had no choice. While the Trainer held her head down, she sucked the first
butt into her mouth, grimacing as she swallowed it down.  Had she seen the contents of
the other three pissers, she would have thought herself lucky. The drains were plugged
on two, with over an inch of fetid, stale urine in each of them.  The third was even
worse; someone had spat huge globs of yellow sputum and flicked boogers onto the
splash plate.  

After swallowing the cigarette butts and gum - and nearly puking in the process - toe
realized she'd finished the worst part of the job.  She began attacking the porcelain with
her tongue, carefully licking all the surfaces , her nose ring clanking against the cold
porcelain.  She tried unsuccessfully to scrape the bits of caked-on filth with her teeth,
then discovered that the ring in her nose would work more effectively.  Working as
quickly as she could, her heart sank when she heard one of the other girls announce
that her urinal was clean.  Her dismay was tempered by the sound of the Trainer's whip
striking flesh; the job was apparently not done to his satisfaction.  Toe continued to
work diligently, wanting to finish quickly, but not at the expense of additional
punishment.  Nearly an hour went by; her tongue was swollen and bleeding from the
abuse she'd inflicted on it, and she could no longer feel her feet after kneeling for so
long on the hard tile floor.  Her knees ached and sharp spasms of pain ran up her back
as she made one last visual check.  Then she ran her tongue around the inside lip to
ensure she couldn't feel anything but smooth porcelain.

"Master, toe begs to have her work inspected, Master!" she announced.

"Do you think you're finished, bitch?" he asked.  "Is it clean?"

"Master, toe believes Master will find it satisfactory, Master," she replied.  The response
was a fist to the side of her head, knocking her over.

"Bitch, I didn't ask you if I'd find it satisfactory, I asked you if that pisser was completely
clean!  Is it?  You know what'll happen if I find it's not!"

"Master, yes, Master," she sobbed, rising back to her kneeling position. "Master, toe's
urinal is clean, Master!"

"Well, we'll just have to see about that," he exclaimed, taking a clean white cloth and a
dental mirror from his pocket.  Carefully he examined toe's urinal, checking and
inspecting every surface for any discrepancy.  Finding none, he put his tools back in his
pocket.

"It's close to acceptable as I can expect from a slave a stupid as you," he stated, "But if
you weren't still in your first week, I'd expect more.  I can see water spots on the
chrome. "  Without hesitation, toe lowered her head back into the bowl and began
shining the drain cover with her tongue, carefully removing all the water spots.

"Master, toe apologizes for her failure, Master," she said after ensuring the spots were
gone.  "Master, toe begs to be punished, Master."  She, of course, wanted nothing of
the kind, but assumed correctly this was what the Trainer would expect from her.  She
was right.

"Yes, you did fail, but as I said, your work was acceptable for the time being."

"Master, thank you, Master," toe replied, bending down and gently kissing his
mirror-shined boot.  Was this one of the pair she'd shined with her own cunt juices the
night before?  She didn't think so; this pair was so shiny she could see her distorted
reflection in it.  She'd not seen herself since becoming a slave, and thought she looked
hideous in the glass-like shine.

While toe was slobbering over his boots, the Trainer was having his own thoughts.  This
one really is a natural submissive, making a mental note to add this incident to her file,
then decided to take her one step further.  He reached down and attached a short
leather leash to her nose ring.

"Heel," he commanded, turning and walking across the lavatory without another word. 
Toe scampered on all fours, trying to keep up.  He led her to a toilet stall, then stopped
and turned around with his back to the toilet.  Toe also stopped, kneeling on the floor
before him.

"Well?" he asked.

"Uh..Yes, Master?" toe responded, unsure what to do.

"You really are as stupid as you look aren't you, cunt?  I need to take a shit.  Do you
think I should have to take my own pants down when there's a cunt like you around?"
he demanded.

"Oh, Master...I'm sorry, Master!" she cried, quickly reaching up to unfasten his trousers.
She stared at his cock; never having seen one so large before.  Of course, her entire
education in that area was limited to the very few male slaves she's seen, and the
children she'd babysat.  The Trainer's cock was at least ten inches long - average for
staff at the facility, actually - and two inches across.  She could feel herself juicing up
just staring at it, wondering what it would feel like slammed into her virgin cunt.  The
Trainer smiled, knowing what toe was thinking, and sat down, motioning towards his
rigid cock.  She lowered her mouth over the head - she was unable to get it much
further inside without gagging - and began gently sucking and licking.  She'd never had
a cock in her mouth before, the Trainer knew, but again, she was proving to be a
natural.

Toe concentrated on what all her senses were telling her about her first cock.  Soft, yet
rigid; warm and pulsating.  Slightly salty, with a mild soapy odor; she instinctively knew
the Trainer had recently bathed, and hadn't fucked anyone since.  She ran her tongue
over the shaft, feeling the ridges caused by the veins running under the skin.  She felt
him harden as the tip of her tongue ticked the underside of his cock, then moving to the
tip, tasting the drop of pre-cum forming on his pisshole.  So engrossed in her duty, she
was oblivious to the explosive sound of shitting, until the overwhelming odor hit her
nostrils.  She tried to hold her breath, but the Trainer saw what she was doing, and
jammed her face down on his cock, forcing her to inhale through her nose.  The
combination of the cock in her throat and the distasteful smell made her gag forcefully,
but the Trainer kept her mouth mashed into his groin, ignoring her struggles, until he
was finished shitting.  When he finally released her head, toe collapsed on the floor,
gasping for breath.

"Wipe me," he said, standing up and turning around, displaying his shit-covered asshole
to her.  "This time you may use toilet paper, but you can expect to eventually be using
your tongue, cunt."

"Yes, Master," toe coughed, taking a wad of tissue from the roll and gently wiping the
wet feces from his rectum.  "Master, thank you for teaching toe, Master," she said when
she was completed.  He turned and saw her holding the shit-stained paper in her hand.

"You may dispose of it in the toilet - this time," he said.  "Just like learning to lick shit
from the source, you will probably be eating used toilet paper at some point.  Not today,
though, bitch."  He stepped over her, and without looking back, told her to take her
position next to the urinal when she was finished.  

Toe dropped the wad in the toilet and flush it before quickly scampering across the floor
and kneeling next to the pisser she'd licked clean.  Without even inspecting the other
urinals, the Trainer opened up the supply cabinet and selected from it a metal rod about
three feet long.  Hanging from the rod, at even intervals, were four metal snaps, with a
single ring centered opposite of them.  He lined the slaves up and clipped each of their
septum rings to a separate snap, and his leash to the lone ring.  

"Heel," he commanded, leading them out on their hands and knees.

"I hope you cunts enjoyed your rest," the Trainer said once the slaves were out of the
restroom.  "Yes, you stupid fucks, what you just did is going to seem like rest,
considering what the rest of your next three days is like.  Oh, didn't anyone tell you? 
For fucking up, you get 72 consecutive hours of ‘remedial training.'  But, it's time for me
to go home to my own fully trained sex slaves, so I'm going to leave you bitches now. 
Enjoy...you only have about 60 hours left before your next break!"  Then, snapping the
leash to a clip on the wall, he left them.

The slaves were crushed, beaten. They were starved, sore and bleeding already.  How
were they expected to survive three days of this?  One girl sobbed aloud, eliciting a
whispered warning from her leash-mate; one of the rules they'd been taught only the
day prior was to always appear eager and happy, always smile, and never, ever cry
except in response to intolerable physical pain.  They had little time for neither rest nor
self-pity, though, for their next abuser arrived moments later, and led them off to their
next abasement.

The string of four girls was led, crawling across the winding gravel path, back to the
building housing the cooking and dining facilities.  Upon entering the brick structure,
each were told to put on a clear plastic suit which covered them from neck to feet.  After
that, a large ball gag was forcefully shoved deep into each slave's mouth and secured
in place.  The reason for the gag was soon apparent to toe: not as much to ensure
silence, but to prevent eating, for their next chore - and one they'd be performing three
times each day until their punishment was over - was to clean the dishes used by the
staff, the pots and other cooking implements, and the feed troughs.

While toe had little problem with the unappetizing gruel stuck to the troughs, the food
left on plates by the staff were a different story.  Large, uneaten pieces of t-bone steak,
bits of scrambled eggs and omelets, and half-consumed slices of toast liberally spread
with butter and jelly all caused her empty stomach to growl.  The aromas were the
worst; being able to smell, but not eat.  The emotional and mental aguish this caused
was as much punishment as the actual task, and it was meant to be.  During their entire
stay on the punishment squad, the slaves would be given nothing to eat and only a few
sips of water every hour or two.

The kitchen finally clean, the slaves removed their plastic suits and hang them on wall
hooks in the entry.  Each suit was marked with the slave's registration number for future
wear.  The purpose of suits was simply to protect the staff dishes from anything that
might be on a slave's body; during punishment, slaves were not permitted any hygiene
time.  The reason this was important came clear with the next task.

Ball gags still in place, the slaves were taken across the yard once more - this time on
soft grass, rather than the painful gravel - to the kennels where the facility's forty dogs
were kept.  While some of the dogs were used for security, others had been trained for
other purposes; this mattered not to the slaves, for the dogs were out with their
handlers at the moment.  

The stench of forty dog runs needing cleaning burned the girls' nostrils, making all of
them wretch.  The temperature was already nearing 90 degrees Fahrenheit, and the
humidity caused the smell of dog shit to permeate everything.  Ball gags were removed,
but just as quickly - before the slaves could even exercise their cramped jaws - replaced
with brush gags.  With long, thick penis gags on one end and a rigid scrub brush on the
other, their use was immediately apparent.  Hands chained behind their backs, the
slaves were each provided with a large bucket of hot, strong disinfectant solution and
assigned ten runs each to clean.  Almost as an afterthought, the Trainer fastened a pair
of safety goggles over each slave's eyes to protect them from the damage the
splashing liquid would cause.

Each slave was assigned ten runs to clean, each equally filthy with dog shit, piss, hair
and the remains of their last feeding.  Toe wasn't sure which was worse: the runs with
solid dog turds in them, because she couldn't sweep them into the drain without getting
shit all over her face, or the ones with the more liquid feces, because of the stomach-
turning stench.  The only important thing at the time, though, was to get the job done;
they were allotted only one hour - six minutes per run - or their punishment would be
extended by 24 hours.  Toe knew she couldn't afford to dally; she might not survive
three days of this torture, but four?

Toe discovered that if she didn't worry about the mess she was making of herself, her
task was much easier.  She simply used her feet to move the larger turds into the drain,
then quickly slopped disinfectant on the floor and scrubbed.  With the other runs, she
found she could use her body like a squeegee by laying on her side and mopping the
yellow, runny crap towards the back of the wall, where could use the sides of her feet to
push it the rest of the way in.  Quickly scrubbing, she saw time was running out and
finally dumped the remains of her bucket on the floor of the last dog run, beating the
clock by mere seconds.  Two of the girls were not so fortunate; one collapsed on the
floor and refused to rise, crying that she wanted to die.  She was carted off by two large
technicians; toe never saw her again.

The remaining three girls were covered in dog feces; toe could feel some drying inside
her ear, but with her hands bound behind her back, could do nothing about it.  As she
crawled out of the kennel and along the length of the concrete building, she saw a
distorted reflection of herself in the mirrored glass windows.  Her first thought was that
she didn't look even human; hairless, ringed, covered in bruises, welts, scrapes and
now dogshit, she looked like a cartoon caricature from a pornographic comic book.  For
the first time since before her trial, toe felt sorry for herself.  A single tear formed,
quickly evaporating in the scorching heat.  

There was no time for self-pity, though, because it was time for the slaves to clean up
after the lunch meal that had just been served to the staff.  Taken back to the kitchen,
the reason for the plastic suits became immediately apparent; none of the slaves would
be permitted to clean themselves.  They would remain caked in whatever filth they
collected, until their three day punishment tour was completed.

The rest of toe's experience only led her to become stronger in her resolve to be
absolutely obedient at all costs.  It was vital that she become the perfect slave, she now
understood, if she was to survive intact.  Her treatment and well-being were directly
connected to her obedience, submissiveness and desirability as slave flesh.  She had
no idea what her unknown Owner had in store for her, but she knew if she failed at this
phase of her enslavement...well, there were rumors about what happened to those girls,
none of them pleasant.

Fortunately, there were no more visits to either the kennels or to clean urinals; toe
found these the hardest of all her tasks.  There was more work outdoors: she was
made to spend hours in the hot sun hoeing weeds and planting small trees, re-roofing
one of the smaller buildings, and finally, hitched to one of the pony carts and used as a
sort of taxi to transport staff across the compound.  All while totally naked, with the hot
sun burning her body to a crisp.  The outdoor work was only done in the heat of the
day; with the exception of kitchen duty, the only time the three girls were brought back
inside was after dark.  While everyone else slept, the punishment squad was put to
work scrubbing floors, disinfecting exam tables, and cleaning restrooms - this time, with
the proper cleaning equipment.  The work grew harder as fatigue and pain set in, but
toe was eventually able to ignore it all as she focused on the task at hand.  This ability
to block out everything except the task at hand was something toe would find helpful to
her life as a slave; she was learning to enter what the psychologists referred to as
"subspace."

Finally, her time was up.  One girl still had another day to do, thanks to her earlier
shortcomings, but toe and the third girl were led back to the main building where they
were given a cold shower, rinsed with the disinfectant solution and then led back to their
cages where they both immediately fell into a deep slumber.  Toe's skin  was a mass of
sores from the sun, caked on dog crap and other abuses it had taken, but she was
oblivious to any of it, completely unconscious just seconds after her battered body
curled up on the hard, cold concrete.

A New World

III - Meeting the Master

Toe awoke the next day, surprised to not feeling the harsh stream of water from the fire
hose.  She looked around groggily, her head pounding with the slightest motion, and
noticed that the other cages around her were empty.  Her wakefulness, however, was
observed, and a Trainer quickly arrived to lead her out into the dining hall.  Unknown to
toe, it had long been understood that a slave who had undergone the amount of
physical abuse she had just experienced needed time to recover.  Slaves were valuable
commodities, particularly the young, healthy and innately submissive, like her. 
Recovery didn't mean pampering, true rest or relaxation; quite the contrary, other than
her longer-than-usual sleep, she'd be exerting herself all day and most of the night just
like the rest of the slaves.  What was different was that she'd be given extra food and
water rations, additional medications to both heal her injuries and help her regain her
strength, and a special regimen of work and exercise until she was deemed fully
recovered.

Instead of the dry kernels toe had been fed before, she was now provided with a pasty,
oatmeal-looking gruel.  Thick and chunky, it contained a high calorie, high protein, high
carbohydrate mixture of natural and artificial substances, along with large amounts of
the antibiotics her body needed right now.  It tasted like its primary ingredient, cooked
liver, but toe barely noticed the taste.  She slopped it all down quickly, fearful that if she
took too long it would be taken from her.  It wasn't enough to stop the ache in her belly,
but on medical advice, slaves who hadn't eaten in three days - or, in toe's case, two
meager meals in an entire week - needed to be restricted to small portions.  So, toe
would be fed five meals instead of the customary two for the next 24 hours, until her
belly had time to adjust.

Following her meal, toe was taken back to the clinic, where her humiliating medical
exam had taken place.  This time, though, it was not nearly as bad.  The examination
was nearly what a free person would consider normal; blood pressure, pulse,
temperature, listen to the lungs, draw blood for testing, a quick EKG, and it was over. 
Still lethargic and tired from her recent maltreatment, she knelt there staring at
nothingness while the Doctor completed his assessment.  

"She's a little anemic," the Doctor said, "but nothing that two days of light duty won't
cure.  Make sure she eats, nothing more or less than what I've prescribed," he
instructed toe's escort.  

"You got it, Doc," the Trainer said, snapping his leash back on toe's collar.  "Okay, cunt,
let's go," he ordered, leading the crawling girl out of the building.

Toe's duties for the next two days truly were light; all she had to do was set the tables in
the staff dining room, remove the dishes when they were finished, and bring beverage
refills.  She heard snippets of conversation, most of which didn't make any sense to her
at all, but a few things she understood.  She wasn't returned to her cage that night or
the next, instead being directed to a corner of the dining room where her collar was
locked to a ring in the floor.  Unable to move from her position, toe was at least able to
stretch out and get better sleep than she had in her cage, a single worn blanket the only
thing protecting her from the cold tile floor.  She found it to be more comfortable to use
it in this manner than as a cover.  Even for this small privilege, she was thankful.  

She continued to receive five small meals each day, and was even permitted to take a
short daily shower, with warm water and real soap.  Toe instinctively understood this
was a special privilege, and not something she should expect on a regular basis.  She
had noticed the stench of unwashed female slave the moment she entered the slave
quarters for the first time; bathing of any form during training would be infrequent, and
to use warm water and soap was nearly unheard of.  Once in the possession of her
Owner, whether she bathed or not would be at that person's discretion.

On the morning of the third day - the morning she came off light duty - she was taken
back to the slave mess hall for a breakfast with the other the slaves, given the same dry
kibble and a few sips of milk from the penis-shaped dispenser.  After eating, toe and
two of the other slaves - who she'd never seen before - were singled out and chained
together, nose ring to cunt ring once more, before being led out of the room.  Toe was
the last girl this time, her face firmly planted between an older, slightly overweight
slave's thick thighs.  The woman had been used just before breakfast, toe realized, as
the semen dripped from the swollen sex in front of her face.  Toe tentatively stuck her
tongue out, letting the sticky fluid drip into her mouth.  She found the taste strange, but
not unpleasant; almost enjoyable, in fact.

Crawling through a maze of hallways and through a myriad of sliding security doors, the
small group finally arrived at their destination.  This area was a far cry from what toe
had seen so far.  Unlike the slave quarters or dining hall, with their dull brick walls and
grey concrete floors, this place was brightly illuminated, the walls in muted pastels, the
floors covered with plush carpet.  Clean, but not like the sterility of the clinic.  Well-lit
and climate controlled, lacking the stale, musty, dirty odors toe noticed everywhere
else.  Her first thought was how nice the thickly padded carpet felt beneath her bruised
and scraped knees.  Her knees were still in the pain from the constant crawling, but
would toughen soon enough.  For now, she just basked in the sensation of plush
softness.  Her second thought was how pristine everything was - nothing out of place,
not even a speck of dust that she could see. The place even smelled clean, almost
sweet and home-like, unlike the stagnant air of the slave wing.  This was her first
exposure to the staff quarters.

Unclipped from each other and quickly chained to floor rings, the slaves kneeled with
their knees widely spread and head bowed.  Using only her peripheral vision, toe could
see slaves in various states of partial dress and complete nudity scurrying around what
appeared to be some sort of large foyer, some carrying covered trays while others were
diligently cleaning. The thing that struck toe most incongruously was the absolute
beauty of the working slaves she saw.  Each different, yet somehow identical.  Tight,
well-toned skin; taut, upright breasts; impeccable makeup.  Everything about them
seemed so perfect, so opposite of how wretched she felt right now, kneeling naked on
the floor, hungry, her joints aching from the abuses already inflicted on them, the still-
uncomfortable feeling of her new piercings.  Feeling sorry for herself and the
predicament she now found herself in, she was stifling a sob when a harsh voice broke
thoughts.

"Which of you is toe?" demanded a, barrel-chested man of about forty.  Toe looked up
at him before responding, immediately trembling in fear.  Tall and muscular, with a bald
head that only emphasized his dominant appearance, he wore black leather trousers
and a matching vest to go with his superbly polished boots.  The second thing toe
noticed was how hairy he was, with a thick, curly mop of black hair covering what she
could see of his chest.  His mere appearance terrified the young girl, causing her to
cringe even before she dared answer.

"I am, sir," she barely whispered, wiping the back of her hand under her nose, causing
her piercing to move painfully.

"First lesson, cunts," the man addressed them all.  "I am 'Master.'  Every other man
here is 'Master.'  There are two words which no longer exist in your vocabulary, 'no,'
and 'I.'  Unless instructed otherwise, you will refer to yourselves by your slave name, as
'the slave,' 'this slave,' or 'a slave.'  The first and last words out of your mouths will be
'Master.'  Now, in unison, do you understand what I've just told you?"

"Master, yes, Master," the three quivering girls answered.

"Very good.  Now, let's try my first question again.  Which of you is called toe?'

"Master, I'm...I mean...this slave is  called toe, Master," she answered, cringing at her
mistake.

"One demerit," the Master commented.  "The first mistake didn't count, because you
are obviously too stupid to know how to speak properly.  I'll expect better in the future.
Now, come with me, bitch," he said, unsnapping her from the ring and literally dragging
her with him by the collar.  Toe couldn't crawl fast enough to keep up, and was painfully
lifted off the floor by her collar twice.  topping at a door about halfway down the hall, he
stopped momentarily and pressed his palm to a small panel while toe coughed and
tried to catch her breath.

"Biometric locks," he told toe.  "Don't try using them.  They open only to specific staff
members.  Unauthorized users receive a shock that can cause tissue damage and
knock you unconscious. After that, you'll be punished.  You really don't want to be
punished," he emphasized ominously.

He led her into what were apparently his living quarters.  It was nicely furnished, but not
even close to  the surroundings she'd lived with in her previous, privileged life.  The
furniture was functional and the apartment clean, but there was nothing special or
extravagant about it.  Perhaps a step above working class, about what a junior manager
in a company, or a mid-ranking government official might have.  Toe was given a quick
tour of the residence.  Just five rooms: a kitchen, bedroom, living room, study and
bathroom.  

The living room was rather small, with a simple leather couch and recliner, coffee table
and entertainment center.  It looked comfortable enough, toe thought, but her comfort
was of no consequence.  

The kitchen was nice and modernly equipped, even containing a dishwasher -
something toe found incongruous, since she'd been washed literally thousands of
dishes by hand since arriving here.  Toe recognized the quality, though not the brand
name, of the cook set hanging from the rack above the food preparation table.  She
prayed silently that she wouldn't be expected to cook much; this was an art in which
she had little skill.

The bathroom was likewise functional, containing a sink with a vanity and medicine
cabinet, a single white porcelain commode, and both a large spa-type tub and a shower
stall.  One of the first things toe noticed were the rings imbedded into the walls of the
shower and the ceiling above; their use was obvious.

The largest room in the apartment, as one might expect in a place such as this, was the
bedroom.  A king-sized pedestal bed with a huge oak bookcase headboard dominated
the room, attachment points for restraints not too obvious, but still quite visible if one
knew what to look for.  A similarly large, matching oak triple dresser rested against one
wall, the surface gleaming from hours of painstaking polishing by the Master's previous
trainees.  Across from the foot of the bed were two sliding, mirrored doors, behind
which lay an eight foot long walk-in closet.  Master's clothing was neatly pressed and
arranged by type and color...coats on the left, trousers in the middle, shirts on the right,
all set from dark to light.  A half dozen impeccably shiny pair of shoes and boots were
lined up on the floor.  Then toe saw it, and a shiver ran down her spine.  A single, small
section of the floor where the carpet was replaced with a concrete pad, upon which a
cage - just like that in which she'd restlessly dozed in the slave quarters - sat.  She
knew at that moment that sharing this man's bed was too much to even wish for; her
place would be in her cage, like the animal she was becoming.

Toe wasn't shown the study, only given the same warning about the biometric lock on
the door.  Had she been permitted to explore it, she would have found nothing other
than an apparently totally functional work space.  What she didn't realize was that the
study was her Master's work center, where he would upload, download, track and
compile all manner of information about his new charge.  Every known fact and many
suppositions about here were stored in the mainframe computer to which his terminal
accessed.  The combined knowledge of years of experience in training slaves was
available at his fingertips, as was immediate consultation with those specializing in the
medical, psychological and other aspects of toe's transformation.  He could
continuously track toe through her microchip implant, and through the multitude of
digital cameras throughout the facility, watch her every move and listen to every sound
she and those around her made.  None of this was important to toe, though, except in
the most esoteric of ways; her life revolved around nothing more than being obedient
and learning how to be the perfect slave.  How this was accomplished mattered not to
her.

"You're a lucky cunt, you know, toe?" he said, looking down at the kneeling girl and
apparently waiting for an answer.

"Master, no...I mean...uh...this slave does not understand what the Master means,
Master, " she replied, still trembling in fear of this hairy giant who had total control over
her life.

"Almost right.  Half a demerit," he said, jotting it down in his ever-present notebook. 
"What I mean, is your 'girlfriends' on the other side of the compound will be sleeping on
a concrete floor, eating slop from a trough, and doing scut work like laundry and
scrubbing toilets all day and half the night, then spend the other half of the night being
gang-raped.  They'll be punished simply because they're slaves.  Here, you'll have the
opportunity to earn the privilege of sleeping in my bed with me at times, you'll get real
food on a regular basis, and the only time you'll be punished is if you displease me. 
Now, don't you feel lucky?"

"Master, yes, Master.  This slave feels extremely lucky, Master."

"Half a demerit.  You began a sentence without saying 'Master.'"

"But you said..." toe began, then clasped her hands over her mouth in horror at her
outburst.

"Three more demerits.  Two for insolence and another for failing to call me 'Master.'"

Toe just kneeled on the floor silently, her eyes lowered.  It wouldn't do to cause her
Master to get angry at her, and God only knows what happens with these demerits. The
Master left her for a moment, returning with a small file and sitting down to read through
it.  He would occasionally look up at toe curiously as he was reading. Finally, he spoke.

"Do you know what this is, toe? he asked.

"Master, no, Master," she responded dutifully.

"It's your file.  It contains every known fact about you, at least all known so far.  Your
family, where you were raised, what schools you went to, even the complaint against
you that resulted in your current status.  You don't know why you're a slave, do you,
toe?"

"Master, except for having been convicted of something, no, Master," she replied.

"It really doesn't matter, you realize? The fact is that you're a slave now, and you'll die a
slave.  Your future can be reasonably comfortable, or it can be harsh and filled with
pain.  Part of that outcome is up to you.   Would you prefer a life filled with deprivation
and pain, or one of relative ease and comfort?"

"Master, toe would prefer a life of comfort, but she understands that it's not really up to
her, Master.  Master, whether the slave's life is harsh or comfortable is up to the desires
of her Master.  The slave would like to beg that the Master train her to be the best, most
obedient slave possible, Master."

"Yes, you were always taught to be the best you could be, weren't you?  I suppose as a
slave, that trait would still exist," he commented, making a notation in her file.  "Oh, by
the way...another half demerit for failing to preface your last sentence with 'Master.'"

"Master, may toe ask a question, Master?"

"About what"

"Master, about demerits, Master."

"You may," he granted.

"Master, what happens with demerits, Master?  I...toe means, she knows demerits
result in punishment, but is there, like a matrix or something, Master?"

"No matrix or anything of the sort.  It's purely slave against slave.  Each week, slaves
with demerits - except the one with the lowest total - are punished.  The one with the
least amount of demerits is rewarded.  Depending on how many demerits and the mood
of her Master, reward could range from a full day off to a special food treat.  As far as
punishments for the rest of the slaves, that is also up to the discretion of her Master.  I
suppose I should let you know that I'm not the sort of Master who enjoys inflicting pain,
but I will certainly do so if need be."

"Master, thank you for explaining that, Master."

"You're welcome, toe.  Oh, do you know how many times you fucked up asking your
question?" he asked, grinning.

Hesitating for a moment with her face crunched up in thought, she replied, "Master, the
slave believes she used a prohibited word once, and failed to say 'Master' once,
Master."

"You are an intelligent little cunt.  Yes, that's exactly what you did.  Half a demerit
because you recognized your error.  You should know, though  that starting tomorrow,
it's one full demerit, and no leniency for admitting a mistake.  If you do fuck up,
however, and it's something you've already been taught, the punishment doubles.  The
fact that you've shown such intelligence means you have no excuse."

"Master, the slave understands, and will do her best not to fuck up, Master," toe replied
humbly. 

"I suppose I should let you in on one other thing.  You're no longer a 'she,' but an
object, a thing.  No more 'she' or 'her.'  From now on, you're an 'it,' nothing more than a
piece of property, to be used as your Master desires. Understand?"

"Master, toe understands, Master."

"Very good, toe," he said, reaching down and patting her on the head.  "I hope you
learn all your lessons as quickly."

"Master, toe only wishes to become the best, most obedient slave that ever existed,
Master."

"Being a slave, it intrigues you, doesn't it?  You've wondered what life would be like as a
slave, haven't you?"

"I...uh...Master,...uh..." she fumbled.  "Yes, Master," her voice said softly.

"That's in your file, you know.," he said, ignoring her lapse this once.  "Your
psychological profile.  It says you have a natural, repressed submissiveness that makes
you an ideal slave.  You feel best about yourself when you're serving others.  That's
why you volunteered as a tutor, and why you worked so hard on the track team.  It
wasn't about you, it was about helping others, making the team excel.  You were
identified as a potential slave a long time ago, toe. Just let your inner submissive out, 
and you'll make your Master proud."

"Master, yes, Master.  Master, may the slave make a request, Master?" the kneeling girl
asked.

"Yes, but remember, that doesn't mean I'll necessarily grant the request."

"Master, may toe please have permission to use the toilet, Master?" she asked,
blushing.

"Why?" he replied.  "For what specific purpose?"

"Master...uh...toe's bladder is full, Master," she answered, humiliated at the need to
explain such a thing.

"So you're asking permission to piss?  Is that it?"  he inquired, grinning cruelly at her
physical and emotional discomfort.

"Master, yes, Master.  Master, may toe have permission to...uh...piss, Master?"

He waited a moment before answering.  "No, I don't think so.  You have chores to do
first, and then, if you do a decent job, I'll reconsider.  Oh, and I wouldn't even think of
pissing on my floor.  That's worth 100 demerits, plus and extra thousand for
disobedience.  Now, why don't you go get started on the dishes?"

"Master, yes, Master," she whimpered, allowing herself to be led into the kitchen.

Toe's Master watched carefully as she scrubbed, dried and put the morning dishes. 
Seeing the scraps of egg, sausage and toast made her realize just how famished she
was.  The change from the warm, thick medical diet to the handful of hard, tasteless
morsels she'd been fed earlier had affected her.  She'd felt hunger ever since her
arrival here, but now, the grumbling of her stomach was overwhelmed only by the
cramping caused by her overfilled bladder.

Once the dishes were done, the Master continued to supervise toe in the rest of her
morning chores;  sweeping and mopping of the kitchen floor, dusting all the apartment's
furniture, vacuuming the carpets, cleaning the bathroom, and finally, making the
Master's bed.  It was during this last task, retrieving clean linen - the Master explained
that she would put fresh sheets on his bed daily - that she felt the first little trickle of
pee.

"Please, Master, I can't hold it any more," she whimpered, crossing her legs in a feeble
attempt to stem the trickle of urine making its way down her thighs.

"Twenty more demerits, toe.  Not only did you speak improperly, but you repeated a
request that had already been denied...and you didn't ask for permission to speak. 
Make that ten demerits, actually," he said, jotting them down in his ever-present book.

"I will give you a choice, though, toe.  You can pee right here and take the hundred
demerits, or you can hold your bladder through a spanking."

"Master, please, will toe be permitted to piss after the spanking, Master?" she wailed,
her legs trembling as she tried to keep from releasing her bladder.

"Yes, I'll allow you to pee afterwards."

"Master, toe would like the spanking, Master," she answered softly, tears already
forming in her eyes.

"Over my knee, then, toe, but if you get so much as a drip of piss on me, you'll have
much more than a few hundred demerits to worry about.  You'll go straight to the
motivation unit.  If you thought your first few days here were bad, motivation unit will
make them seem a fond, pleasant memory."

As toe positioned herself over the Master's lap, he took out a heavy wooden paddle. 
Telling her to brace herself, he gave 10 quick, hard swats, causing her to cry out in
pain.  Her bare ass was bright red well before the last swat.

"From now on, toe, you'll count them aloud or they won't count, and if you scream or
miss a count, we start over.  Understood?" he asked, dumping the bawling girl onto the
floor.

"Master,. yes, Master," she sobbed. "Master, may toe please piss now, Master?" the girl
begged, clamping her thighs together in pain.

"In a moment," he answered.  "First of all, slaves aren't permitted to use the toilet, so go
crawl back into the kitchen.  Under the sink you'll find your dish; it has your name on it.
Get it and bring it back to me."  He watched as the girl scampered away on all fours,
returning a moment later with a plastic bowl with "toe" scrawled on it..

"Squat over the bowl, toe, but don't do anything else until I tell you."

"Master, yes, Master," she responded, assuming the position he directed.  He made her
remain in the squatting position until she was sure her trembling legs would give out,
finally giving her he command to release herself.  The urine came out in a torrent,
splashing out of the bowl and onto the floor, before she was finally able to stem the flow
enough to prevent further splattering.  It didn't matter, though, because this was all part
of the Master's plan.

"Did you spill, toe?" he asked her when she was finished, the last drops clinging to her
ringed labia.

"Master, yes, Master.  Master, toe begs forgiveness, Master," she answered, cringing at
the punishment she expected.

"Another choice, toe," he explained.  "100 demerits and a whipping - not just a
spanking, but a real whipping - or you clean up your mess."  He paused a moment, and
toe looked up at him expectantly.  "With your tongue," he finished.  "Decide now!"

Without answering, toe immediately dropped her face to the floor and began slurping
the urine up from the cold tile floor.  The acrid taste burned her mouth, but she knew
the alternative would be much worse.  Finally finished, she returned to her upright
kneeling position.

"You're not done, toe," her Master chastised.  "There's still piss in your bowl."

Toe turned red in humiliation at what she was about to do, but obediently lowered her
face down to the bowl and began lapping the warm yellow liquid up.  When the bowl
was finally empty, her face was soaked, piss dripping from her nose ring.  She saw that
she'd dripped onto the floor again, and without waiting for a command, immediately
licked the tiny pools up.

"Good girl," the Master praised, patting her on the head again.  "You have the makings
of becoming a fine slave."

"Master, thank you, Master," he responded automatically now, her stomach doing flips
as the urine sloshed inside her.

"Hmmm," the Master commented almost absentmindedly, looking at his watch.  "It
looks like we've missed the noon meal.  I guess a sandwich will have to suffice.  Go
make me one.  Salami and Swiss on rye, with mustard.  Everything is in the refrigerator. 
There won't be time for you; you're already late for class."  

The excitement toe initially felt at the prospect of food was quickly replaced with
disappointment in knowing she'd continue to go hungry.  However, she obediently
scampered into the kitchen and prepared her Master's meal.  He took the sandwich in
one hand and her leash in the other, happily munching away as he palmed the door
open and led her down the hallway to her first day of classes.

A New World
4:  Cum-Filled Fuckbunny

"This is the new one for the special treatment?" the tall, statuesque blonde woman
asked, taking toe's leash from Master.  Toe risked a quick glance upward, but her eyes
got only as far as the high leather boots, shined to mirror perfection, before a lash
landed on her back.

'Uh huh," he answered.  "She needs a lot of work, but I know you'll take good care of
her."

"Oh, you bet,' she grinned sadistically.  "Come on, bitch.  It's time to see if we can get
that pathetic body of yours into some semblance of fitness."  The sharp tug on the
leash caused toe to lose her balance, nearly making her fall over.

"Look at me, bitch!" the woman commanded.  Toe looked up, wincing in anticipation of
more punishment.  She saw the stern woman, fully dressed in what looked like a leather
jump suit, glaring down at her sadistically.  

"My name is Ma'am.  I'm not a fucking slave.  I don't do this job because of the money, I
do it for the pure enjoyment of seeing pathetic pieces of fuck meat like you suffer.
Unlike whores like you, I eat, sleep, shit and piss whenever I want, and fuck whoever I
want, whenever I feel like it, and when I don't feel like it, I don't.  You, on the other
hand, are a useless piece of shit who should be thankful that someone thinks you're not
a complete waste of oxygen.  So, when I say 'jump,' you jump, and don't even bother
asking how high, bitch.  You don't have the time to think about it...assuming you even
have the capacity for thought.  You're nothing to me; the dogshit I stepped in this
morning has more value.  Got that, cunt?"

Toe cringed at the harsh words and the prospect of even harsher treatment, but
responded automatically.

"Ma'am, yes, Ma'am."

"Good, fuckmeat.  Now, let's see about sweating some of that pig fat off your pitiful
slave ass."  

Ma'am's last words cut through toe like a hot knife through butter.  She'd always been
fastidious about her appearance.  Her weight was near the bottom of the range for her
height, she always kept herself well-groomed, and she worked out regularly. She was in
good shape, or so she thought, and her good looks were always what she was proudest
of.  Now this bitch is telling her she's a pig?  The trainer saw the venom in toe's eyes,
and grinned even more viciously.

"Ah, a prideful piggy are we?  Is da widdle piggy mad angwy to be called a widdle
piggy?  I have news for you, cunt, you ain't shit, and we'll just have to see about
changing that fucking attitude of yours!  Let's start off with 500 squats and see if you still
think the same way!"

Kicking toe's legs apart to the limits of her ankle chain and then locking her wrists to the
back of her collar, Ma'am made toe do rapid deep knee bends until she thought her
legs were going to fall off.  Every time toe tried to slow down or try to take a breather,
though, the trainer's riding crop would lash out, strategically striking a nipple or, worse
yet, her newly pierced cunt lips.  Toe fell to the ground, her legs failing well before the
allotted 500 squats were met.

"120 was all you could do?  You really are a worthless piece of shit, aren't you?  What
the hell are you going to do when Master decides to have you gang-rape yourself on
fifty or sixty men?  Are you going to just quit because you get tired?  Hell, I know one
slave girl, she was forced to squat and fuck a dildo, one stroke a second, for 18 straight
hours.  You think you could hold up to that?  I don't."

"Ma'am, toe is sorry for her shortcomings, Ma'am," the exhausted slave gasped. 
"Ma'am, the slave begs forgiveness, and to be trained to be a perfect slave, Ma'am."

"Up on your knees, bitch," the trainer spat.  "I want to get one thing straight, you
worthless little fuck.  I do forgive.  You WILL perform to my satisfaction in this gym, or
I'll flay the skin off your sorry, dog-fucking ass.  DO YOU UNDERSTAND, CUNT?"

"Ma'am, yes, toe understands, Ma'am," the sobbing girl panted as she crawled painfully
to her knees.

"Toe.  Is that the name they've given you?"

"Ma'am, yes, Ma'am."

"I don't like it.  I think...yes...your new name is 'cum-filled fuckbunny.'  Got it?"

"Ma'am, the slave understands its new name is 'cum-filled fuckbunny, Ma'am.  Ma'am,
may cum-filled fuckbunny ask a question, Ma'am?"

"What is it?" she asked, grinning again.

"Ma'am, is the slave to be called by its new name all the time, until its name is changed
again, or only while in your presence, Ma'am."

"What new name would that be?"

"Ma'am, is the slave to be know as cum-filled fuckbunny all the time now, or does it
respond to its former slave name after class?" the slave asked, blushing at the indignity
of the name she'd just been bestowed.

"I think all the time.  I'll let your Master know, and he'll annotate it.  Now, what do you
think about your new name?"

"Ma'am, cum-filled fuckbunny thanks Ma'am for giving her...it...such a beautiful name,
Ma'am," the slave sobbed, her feelings quite the opposite of her words.

"A demerit for that.  You know what you forgot, correct?"

"Ma'am, cum-filled fuckbunny referred to itself with a prohibited word, Ma'am.  Ma'am,
thank you for correcting the slave, Ma'am."

"I understand you're a virgin, is that correct?"

"Ma'am, yes, Ma'am."

"So you've not only never been fucked as a slave, you've never even had sex, made
love, slept with someone - all those cutsie terms for fucking?"

"Ma'am, cum-filled fuckbunny has never done any of those things, Ma'am."

"I see," the trainer mused.  "In that case, when you call yourself 'cum-filled fuckbunny,'
you're actually telling a lie.  You're neither cum-filled nor a fuckbunny, are you?"

"Ma'am, Ma'am is correct, Ma'am," she said, careful not to use the prohibited word,
"no."

"Each lie is 100 demerits, you know," she grinned.  "How many times have you lied to
me, cunt?"

"Uh, Ma'am, the slave doesn't know, Ma'am," the weeping girl replied.

"Okay, then let's call it an even ten times.  That's 1000 demerits, isn't it?"

"Ma'am, yes, Ma'am," she recited automatically, fearing what would happen to her for
amassing so many demerits so quicky.

"Well, how would you like to work off a few of those demerits, then?" the cruel trainer
asked.

"Ma'am, the slave begs to be permitted to do so, Ma'am," the girl said eagerly.

"Get up," she said, dragging the slave to her feet and leading her to a rather unusual
stationery bicycle.  The seat was little more than a leather-padded frame.  Protruding
from the middle were two cylindrical object, the purpose of which were immediately
obvious to fuckbunny.  "I suggest you use get them wet".

Fuckbunny knelt down and took the dildos into her mouth one at a time, slathering spit
over their length.  She noticed they were hollow, and absentmindedly wondered why as
she worked back and forth between the two phalli, trying to keep them both wet.

"Enough.  Hop up, you stupid slut.  Time to go for a ride."

Fuckbunny climbed up and positioned herself over the two dildos, wiggling her ass to
ensure they were in the right place.  She began to carefully lower herself down, when
the trainer stepped behind and pushed forcefully on her shoulders.  The slave felt the
larger dildo slip past her cunt lips and painfully tear her hymen.  She could feel
something - blood, or something else? - dripping from her hole.  The anal probe hurt as
well, though with not nearly the searing pain she felt in her cunt.

"I'll bet you never thought you'd have your cherry taken this way, huh, bitch?" the trainer
sneered.

"Ma'am, the slave expected to willingly give it to a boyfriend, Ma'am," fuckbunny cried,
tears dripping down her cheeks in response to both the pain and humiliation.  She'd
always guarded her virginity carefully, and even when she realized she'd become a
slave, she expected some Master to take it from her.

"Well, slut, I guess you can forget about that, huh?  Or boyfriends, for that matter.  Who
ever heard of a fuck slave having a boyfriend?"  She laughed cruelly at her matter-of
fact statement.  Yeah, who ever heard of a slave having boyfriends?  Masters, users,
abusers...but never boyfriends.

"Okay, everything nice and tight, slut?" she asked as she strapped fuckbunny's bare
feet onto the serrated metal pedals, then the labia rings to elastic bands attached to the
seat.  It was safe to give a little tug on the newly-installed cunt rings, but a new slave
might pull to hard; therefore, elastic was used to secure fuckbunny down..

"Ma'am, yes, Ma'am," she responded.

"Okay, here's the deal.  For every ten minutes - that's five miles - you can ride without
cumming, you get 100 demerits wiped out.  If you cum, the time starts over, but you get
to keep whatever credits you've earned up to that point as long as you can keep
pedaling at the set pace while you're cumming.  If you slow down, you get punished.  If
either the pedals or wheel stops before you've ridden an hour, you lose all your credits
and get an extra 100 demerits for every time you cum."  The trainer didn't need to
explain that slaves don't "have orgasms," they cum.  "Do you understand the rules,
cunt?" 

"Ma'am....yes, Ma'am," fuckbunny mumbled, wincing from the pain as she gently
wiggled, trying to find a comfortable position for the twin invaders inside her newly
devirginized holes.

"Begin!" 

Fuckbunny began pedaling, faster and faster at the trainer's urging, until the green light
on the control panel blinked, indicating she was at the desired speed.  

"Good, twat.  Now just maintain that pace..."  The trainer's instructions were interrupted
by  fuckbunny squealing in shock.  Ma'am laughed aloud, knowing that the dildo in the
slave's cunt has begun its relentless vibrating, while the one in her ass started to slowly,
relentlessly fuck in and out.  The immobilized girl's eyes widened as the anal probe
began to expand.  As long as she maintained her pace, the dildos would continue their
movement.

"Keep pumping, bitch," the trainer demanded, lightly slapping the slave's nipples with
her crop.  "I know you're going to cum.  You don't want to, but you're such a slut that
anything shoved up your horny little ass makes you cum, doesn't it, you dirty little piece
of fuckmeat?  I'll bet you can feel that big plastic dildo in your cunt, too, can't you?  You
can't wait to cum, wishing it were a real cock.  But, no, you're going to cum on the same
piece of plastic you gave your cherry to, aren't you?  You're such a slut, you couldn't
even wait for a man to slide his cock up your cunt, you had to ram a plastic dick up
yourself, didn't you?"  The trainer kept up the litany of abuse, whispering into the slave's
ear, watching as beads of perspiration formed on fuckbunny's skin.  Suddenly, knowing
the time was right, the trainer reached down with both hands and grabbed the slave's
nipples, twisting them painfully.  A warm, thick liquid suddenly shot out of the ends of
both dildos, filling the slave's cunt and asshole.

"Aaaahhhh!" fuckbunny screamed as the orgasm washed over her.  She leaned back to
straighten her legs, causing the bicycle to stop.  The trainer laughed maliciously.

"I guess you lose, cunt," she ridiculed.  "I guess that means you get to keep your
demerits, and I get to add another hundred."

"Ma'am, please...forgive...this slave...for cumming without permission, and for its
failure...Ma'am," fuckbunny panted.

"Oh, I don't think so, you little slut.  I have no doubt you could have stopped from
cumming if you really wanted to, but all you could think about was the aching inside that
pathetic fat cunt of yours, isn't that right, slut?  The only thing bitches like you think of is
finding a dick to make them cum."

Of course it wasn't right, the slave thought angrily.  She didn't WANT to cum; it was
forced from her.  If the trainer was really serious about not wanting her to orgasm, she
wouldn't have grabbed her tits or kept talking to her like that, making her concentrate on
the feelings inside her cunt.  But she knew what was expected of her, and dutifully
answered.

"Ma'am, this slave couldn't think of anything except its need to cum, Ma'am."

"You have a fat cunt, don't you?"

"Ma'am, yes, Ma'am."

"Say it."

"Ma'am, the slave has a fat cunt, Ma'am."

"Use your name, bitch."

"Ma'am, cum-filled fuckbunny has a fat cunt, Ma'am."

"Say 'cum-filled fuckbunny needs a hard cock up its fat, horny cunt."

"Cum-filled fuckbunny needs a hard cock up its fat, horny cunt," the slave panted as
she pedaled.

"Keep saying that while you ride, bitch.  Go on, do it!"

"Cum-filled fuckbunny needs a hard cock up its fat, horny cunt.  Cum-filled fuckbunny
needs a hard cock up its fat, horny cunt," she repeated over and over, using it to keep a
steady pace.  She faltered only once; another explosive orgasm caused her to slow just
below the predetermined threshold.  The resulting electrical shock that passed between
the two probes seemed to burn through fuckbunny's most sensitive of tissues, providing
all the encouragement she needed to not slow down when any of her subsequent
seven cums occurred.  Fuckbunny's mind began to drift off again, allowing her to
concentrate only keeping the green light illuminated, ignoring the pleasure-filled
physical pain her body was experiencing.  Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the
probes retracted from her abused holes.

"Very good," she praised in a condescending voice while she unstrapped the sweating,
exhausted slave's bare feet from the stirrups.  "You may get down now and begin
cleaning your toys."

"Ma'am?" the slave asked, puzzled.

"God, you really are a stupid cunt, aren't you?  Bend over and clean your lovers off with
your mouth, you idiot," she spat.  "Any time anything is shoved up any of your holes,
you lick it clean afterwards.  Don't you know anything, dummy?"

Fuckbunny's face once again turned bright red.  Of course she didn't know...she'd only
been a slave for a day!  Embarrassed, she bent over at the waist and began licking her
juices and shit off the two intruders, gagging slightly at the rank taste of the dildo that
had been up her ass only moments ago.

"Get used to it, slut," the trainer cackled, "I expect that fat ass of yours will get more
attention than your loose, sloppy cunt.  And, like I said, anything you're fortunate
enough to have shoved in any of your holes, you suck clean afterwards."

"Ma, eth, Ma," the girl responded, her mouth full of plastic cock.

"Such a nasty slut," the trainer commented, tousling the girls disheveled hair.

After a few moments, the trainer commanded fuckbunny to stop.  "That's enough, slut. 
You're supposed to just clean them off, not get all hot and bothered sucking on your
plastic boyfriend."

"Yes. Ma'am," the slave answered, then looking up in horror, realizing she'd made yet
another mistake.

"What did you just say, slut?" the trainer asked in feigned anger.

"Ma'am, cum-filled fuckbunny forgot to precede its statement with the word 'Ma'am,'
Ma'am."

"You're learning.  Twenty demerits, though, for being stupid and for lying to me again. 
Now let's see what kind of shape the rest of your body is in."

Fuckbunny winced at the pain emanating from her mistreated cunt and ass as she
crawled behind the sadistic Trainer to a circle of torturous-looking machines, each
designed to torment a different part of the slave's body. The bicep curl station, for
example, included a unique feature not found in most gyms; two thin wires spooled
inside the hand grips were attached to  the slave's nipple rings and alternately extend
and retract at a set pace.  If the slave was too slow in flexing her arms or two quick
extending them, her nipples were punished with both a harsh tug and a small electric
shock..  The leg press contained sharp nail-like protrusions able to cause significant
pain with minimal actual tissue damage to the slave's feet if she falters.  And, of course,
some of the devices were simply designed to cause pain whether the slave performed
adequately or not.  Case in point: the reverse squat equipment.  Rather than exercising
the legs like a regular squat machine, this was quite different.  The slave girl was
lowered into a deep squatting position and held there while short wires attached to
weights were clipped to her labia rings.  On command, she is to stand up, hold the
position for a set period, and then squat down again.  The wires, of course, were not
long enough to allow the weights - up to five pounds for some of the slaves - to remain
on the ground, resulting in the slave's cunt lips being stretched obscenely.  Since this
was fuckbunny's first time, mere one ounce weights were used on her.  Even so, by the
fiftieth repetition, the slave felt as though her entire crotch was going to fall off.

By the time her three hour session was completed, fuckbunny was covered in a sheen
of sweat.  Her crotch was a mess of cunt juice and blood, most of it drying on her inner
thighs like a shiny, red-tinged lacquer.  Her entire body was aching - more than aching,
actually, but in her present state, she couldn't think of a word to describe her current
suffering.  She was led to a water bowl on the floor and allowed about thirty seconds to
lap at it like a dog, before the Trainer pulled back to the center of the gym.



"Stay," the Trainer commanded, then walked out of the room and allowed the steel 
door to slam shut behind her.  

Fuckbunny took the few moments of solitude to reflect on her situation, where she'd
come from, her current status, and what the future might hold.  She was beginning to
realize what it truly meant to be a slave.  To have her virginity ripped from her, like
some useless asset - which, she supposed, it really was.  Anyone could use her in any
manner they wanted, so why should she be upset that her cherry was lost to a hard
plastic phallus?  At least it wasn't in the back seat of a boyfriend's car, with both of them
fumbling around, not knowing what to do, but she expected that someone would have
wanted to pop her cherry himself.  After all, she knew virginity was a prized item in a
slave.  She'd seen slave auctions were virgins were sold for a premium.  Perhaps her
own virginity had no value at all, ever.  Maybe she'd been foolish to protect it as she
had, fuckbunny thought.  Her value, that's all everything boiled down to now, whether
she had any value to anyone.  She knew her value would depend in some part on her
abilities and submissiveness, but also subject to the whims of her Owner once she was
fully trained.  She'd witnessed slave girls being sold for thousands of dollars, and a
moment later, being traded for a cup of coffee or a cigarette.  A slave's value was a
subjective thing.  There really was no use in crying over the past or what might have
been, or worrying about the future, she realized.  The past was gone, and she had no
control over her future.

She was suddenly pulled from her reverie by the sound of the door opening, followed by
the sound of harsh footsteps across the polished wood floor.  Unconsciously, the
exhausted, sweaty slave improved her posture, arching her back inward and moving
her knees apart just a bit more.  Fuckbunny continued to focus her eyes downward, on
a seam in the floorboards, fearful of what might happen if she looked up without
permission.  A pair of exquisitely manicured feet bound in shiny black leather sandals
with unbelievably high spiked heels appeared in fuckbunny's vision.

"Phew, you stink," the voice attached to the feet pronounced.  "Come on, let's get you
to class.  You ARE toe, correct?"

"Uh...ma'am...this slave's name is no longer toe, ma'am."

"You don't have to call me 'ma'am;' I'm a slave, just like you.  Lower slaves like you are
supposed to call the upper class slaves 'miss.'  Oh, and it's okay to look up, by the way. 
I may be your superior, but I'm still a slave."

Fuckbunny relaxed somewhat and looked up to see the most gorgeous creature she'd
ever laid her eyes upon.  Tall and slender, with that not-quite Barbie doll look; long,
blonde, perfectly brushed hair; piercing blue eyes and thick, full lips; a slender neck
adorned with a single black leather collar; beautiful, largish yet firm and pointed breasts;
flat belly, slender thighs and attractive legs that seemed to go on forever. Over her
shoulders was draped a black, nearly transparent gauze garment of some sort, the
purpose of which was not to hide, but rather to accentuate her body parts.  Fuckbunny
almost swooned at seeing her; unlike most of the slaves here, who seemed like
caricatures of women, the girl standing before her now looked like a professional
model.  

"You've been renamed, you said?" the woman repeated, smiling almost kindly down on
her slave sister.

"Uh...yes, Ma'am...er...miss.  Miss, this slave's name is now cum-filled fuckbunny,
miss."

"I see.   And are you?"

"Miss?"

"Are you a cum-filled fuckbunny?" she asked with a huge smile.

"Miss, no, miss," came the embarrassed response.

"Never?"

Miss, no, never, miss," the kneeling slave replied, her skin turning bright red.

"Aw, you're blushing.  How cute," the new arrival commented, eliciting an ever deeper
response from fuckbunny.  "No time for that right now, though.  I'm supposed to take
you to your next class.  Come on," she ordered, picking up the end of fuckbunny's leash
and leading her out into the halls.

Fortunately for the crawling slave's abused knees, the classroom was only a short
distance down the hall.  Fuckbunny would find that classes were generally in small
groups, based on specific training needs, but this was an introductory session held in a
large amphitheater-style lecture hall with room for 120 slaves.  Today, there were only
70 or so present.

Each slave was assigned an individual "seat," which wasn't a seat at all, but for which
nobody could come up with a better term.  Rings imbedded in the floor were used to
secure each slave in a kneeling position with, as always, her legs widely spread.  While
fuckbunny was being secured in that position, another "worker slave," as she began to
think of them, attached thin electrical wires to her nipple and labia rings.  The ring
through her septum was clipped to a cord hanging down from above, effectively
preventing her from looking downward.  Fuckbunny could do nothing other than remain
quiet and motionless while the other students were similarly hooked up.   Finally, a
large video screen began its slow descent from the ceiling, and a figure appeared.  This
lecture, apparently, was going to be a taped one.

"Today's topic is the penis, and how to worship it," the man on the screen began to say. 
"As slaves, your entire being - your reason for existence - is to worship and give
pleasure to the penis, and more importantly, to the man owning it.  Each penis is
similar, but different, as you can see," the voice said, while penises of all shapes, sizes
and colors flashed on the screen.  "Penis, however, is a clinical term.  Slaves are not
permitted, except in a clinical setting, to use such words.  On your touch screens you
will see a list of terms.  You will select the terms that a slave may use when referring to
a penis."

A panel suddenly opened in the short wall directly in front of fuckbunny's face, and a
video screen appeared.  A list of words suddenly popped up.  Cock, prick, fuck stick,
love sausage...and words in foreign languages that fuckbunny had never even seen
before.  She hesitated just a second too long trying to decide.  The screen went black,
and a mild shock was administered to her vulva.  Not strong enough to cause an outcry,
it certainly got her attention.  She vowed to be quicker, even if she answered incorrectly.

The man in the video droned on, but fuckbunny concentrated as hard as she could on
what was being taught.  The various parts of the male reproductive system.  Where the
pleasure points were located.  How to identify an impending orgasm in a male, and how
to delay it, increase the strength of the orgasm, or speed it up.  After each small lesson,
another multiple-choice exam.  As tired as she was, fuckbunny managed to get every
question during the three hour lecture correct.  As a result, she and the other five who
also managed this feat were permitted a few moments to stretch and have a quick drink
of water before the final exam.  The other girls, were made to simply remain where they
were.

The end-of-session exam was a bit harder, and as fuckbunny soon discovered, each
incorrect answer increased the strength of the shocks exponentially.  By the fifteenth
question, several of the girls were screaming at the intensity; by the twentieth, one had
been knocked into unconsciousness by a particularly hard jolt.  Fuckbunny, on the other
hand, managed to answer all but six of the 50 questions correctly, and even the last
shock only brought a stifled moan to her lips.  

Once the exam was completed, the screen simply retracted back into the ceiling.  With
no instructions to the contrary, several of the slaves began quietly conversing with each
other; fuckbunny resisted the urge, even after the girl next to her started whispering
questions.  Instead, she just shook her head to indicate she wasn't going to talk unless
someone with authority told her to.  The other slave looked at her in disgust, then
suddenly all her muscles tensed up as the largest shock yet coursed through her body -
and the bodies of the other chatterers.  Fuckbunny just looked forward, her head
moving ever so slightly as though saying, "no."

Masters and other Trainers began filtering into the auditorium, methodically
disconnecting their slaves and leading them out of the room.  Fuckbunny's Master was
one of the last.

"I hear you did well, toe," he commented as he snapped his leash to her collar.

"Master, this slave's name is no longer toe, Master," she once again explained.

"Really?" he said, one eyebrow cocked.  "And what is your name now?"

"Master, this slave's name is 'cum-filled fuckbunny," Master - but it's a lie, Master. 
Please don't punish me for telling a lie, Master!  I...this slave had to answer, but the
answer is a lie, Master!" she cried pitifully.

"I see," he replied calmly, knowingly.  "Your new name is 'cum-filled fuckbunny," but
that's a lie, because you're neither cum-filled nor a fuckbunny, correct?"

"Master, yes, Master," she wept.

"Well, we'll just have to go back to my apartment and do something about that.  I
guarantee you'll be cum-filled before morning, slave.  The fuckbunny part depends on
you."

Without another word, he walked towards the door, the young, abused slave
scampering almost eagerly behind him as fast as she could on her hands and knees.

A New World
5 - Earning Her Name

So it was that fuckbunny was led by her Master back to his apartment, her
apprehension building as she crawled closer and closer to their destination.  Other than
what she'd read and the few porn photos she'd seen, she had no idea what fucking was
like.  Would it hurt?  Probably, she figured, at least the first time - but now that her
hymen was gone, maybe it wouldn't?  Would she like it?  She hoped so; she wanted to,
but the reality was that it didn't matter.  She was just a slave, and an untrained one at
that.  Her wants and desires weren't of any importance to anyone, let alone this
temporary Master of hers.  His job was to train her, and that was that.

Her biggest concern, though, was whether she would please him enough to avoid
punishment.  She'd heard the stories: about slaves having their teeth yanked out after
accidently biting a man's cock, and the one about the girl who didn't respond
adequately while being fucked - she didn't make the appropriate noises and
movements at the proper time - and had her clitoris removed.  She'd even heard one
about a slave who performed unsatisfactorily, and ended up having a lit firecracker
stuffed up her ass.  Someone also told her that story was total bullshit, but after seeing
what happened to those two girls on her first day, she knew anything was possible.

After the brisk, twenty-minute crawl under the hot, dry sun, the blast of chilled air when
they entered the staff quarters caused a sudden spell of dizziness to rush over the
naked slave.  Fuckbunny slowed for a moment as she tried to overcome the
lightheadedness. The coolness felt good, she thought as she regained her balance, but
wondered whether it was that or anticipation causing her nipples to harden?  Still, she
wasn't given time to ponder that thought, as the leash went taut once again and she
was forced to crawl even faster to keep up with her Master.

Once inside her Master's quarters, fuckbunny was led into her Master's bedroom and
positioned at the foot of the bed.  He took the slave's hands in his, and deftly snapped
steel restraints around each wrist, hooking them to her collar before unsnapping the
leash.

"Since this is your first time," he began to explain, "I won't expect much from you.  You
don't yet know anything about what is expected from a slave girl when she's raped, so I
just want you to follow my instructions and concentrate on the physical sensations. 
Concentrate on the reactions of your own body this time.  Later on, you'll learn to focus
only on the pleasure of the person using you, but don't worry about that right now," he
explained in a soothing voice.  "Now, undress me."

"Master, this slave doesn't understand.  How can it undress its Master without its hands,
Master?" fuckbunny asked, confused.

"A slave obeys.  I've given you an order, and you are to obey it, so think of a way. Be
ingenious, my soon-to-be cum-filled fuckbunny.  What ways can you think of to undress
me without using your hands?"

"Master, yes, Master," the slave responded, an sudden, understanding gleam in her eye
as she bent down and took the end of a shoelace in her mouth.

Fuckbunny found that undressing someone without the use of hands is much more
difficult than it sounds.  Oh, the shoelaces weren't hard, and even unsnapping his
trousers and getting his pants down wasn't all that difficult.  She didn't care for the taste
and odor of his sweaty socks, but managed to overcome her natural aversion to that by
focusing on her task.  No, she found the most difficult part of undressing her Master
was to get his undershirt off.  Soon, though, he was sitting on the edge of the bed
dressed only in a pair of white cotton briefs.  She could see the outline of his member -
she still didn't want to think of it in any of those terms from the class - through the
material.  Fuckbunny leaned forward to take the waistband in her mouth.

"Stop," her Master commanded.  "First, you ask permission to kiss it.  Then you kiss it. 
After you give it a kiss right on the head, you can take the shorts off me."

Fuckbunny leaned back on her heels and looked up at him with an expectant glow on
her face.  "Master, may the slave please kiss Master's magnificent cock, Master?" she
asked.

"You may," he replied with a grin.  The slave leaned forward and gently touched her lips
to the outline of his now-hardening penis, carefully planting a kiss directly on the tiny
wet spot right at the tip of the head.  This accomplished, she moved to the waistband
and slowly worked it down over his hips, moving to the left and right as necessary, while
her Master lifted himself to a standing position.  Suddenly, his cock popped out over the
elastic, bouncing slightly as it was released from the confines of his underwear. 
Fuckbunny flinched, almost in surprise, as the largish member slapped against her
face, smacking her nose lightly on the way up.  Undaunted, she continued her task and
quickly forced the shorts down to his ankles, then pulled them off as he lifted each foot
separately.  Only then did she return her gaze to the object which would, she knew,
soon be pulsating inside her.  Her first thoughts were of lust and fear.

"Master," she almost whispered, "it's beautiful, but I'm afraid, Master.  It's so big!" 

He decided to overlook the slave's relatively minor speech violation; she was, after all,
in considerable emotional distress at the moment.  He had two choices at this point,
and decided on the less traumatic.

"Slave," he said in a quiet, soothing voice. "You're neither the youngest, smallest nor
most inexperienced slave to be fucked by me.  This is your first time, and of course
you're going to be a bit afraid.  You're still sore, too, and you're worried I'm going to hurt
you," he explained while he stroked her bald head.  "Yes, it will probably cause some
pain, but I promise it won't cause any real damage.  I'll even be gentle this time.  All you
have to do is obey.  Concentrate on your obedience, and I'll do everything else. You'll 
be fine, okay?"

"Master, yes, Master," she whimpered, not believing a word of it.

"Good.  Now, hop up on the bed," he said, patting the place he wanted her.  "On your
back, legs spread.  Raise your knees up and bring your heels as close to your ass as
you can, but keep them as far apart as you can, too."  As she obeyed, he slid a small
pillow under her ass, lifting her crotch into the air.

The net effect of this position was to completely expose the slave's sex to his view.  Her
denuded vulva was completely exposed and visibly swollen, the labia rings glistening
with moisture.  As he reached down to spread her lips apart, he saw how distended and
erect her little clitoris was; he thought perhaps a piercing right there might be nice.  He
toyed with her for a few minutes, taking each labia between his finger and thumb, gently
tugging and massaging it, watching her exposed sex getting wetter and wetter.  Finally,
though, it was time.

Climbing up on the bed, he positioned himself between her splayed thighs and held
there for a moment, the head of his dick poised at the mouth of her sopping wet
channel.  As he slowly lowered himself, fuckbunny's eyes bulged.  To the slave, it felt
as though she were being ripped apart; to him, it was as if her cunt was custom-fitted
for his cock.  Centimeter by centimeter he slowly entered her, all the while staring
deeply into her eyes, until he was fully engulfed.

"You are aware that a slave only cums when commanded to do so, I'm sure," he said to
the wide-eyed girl as he held his torso above her sweating body.  "However, since
you're new, I'll not enforce that restriction.  You may cum whenever and as often as you
need to."

"Thank you, Master," she whispered with a gasp, as he slowly slid out, then back in.

"Concentrate on what it feels like.  Focus on how your cunt lips rub against my cock,
how it feels when your hole opens when I enter it.  Feel how wet you're getting. 
Envision what your bald pussy must look like right now, all swollen and ready."  He kept
up his litany of comments, all designed to help the slave focus on that singular place on
her body.  It only took a few minutes and one particularly strong stroke by him, and he
felt her entire body shake.  He could feel her cunt spasm, gripping his cock convulsively
as she thrashed her head side to side and moaned deeply.  He waited, watching her
facial expressions, until she finally regained her senses.

"Very good," he commented, smiling down at her and watching her blush again.

"Master, that was...amazing, Master!" she whispered huskily.

"Yes, I could tell," he replied.  "But now it's my turn.  I'm going to fuck you for my
pleasure.  I want you to concentrate on tightening your muscles, I want you to try to bite
my cock off with your cunt when I enter, and then I want you to fully relax them when I
withdraw.  I'm going to fuck you hard and fast, and if you want to cum, that's fine.  If you
don't cum, that's fine, too.  I don't care whether you get anything out of this or not. 
Understand?"

"Master, yes, Master," she panted, still catching her breath after the explosive orgasm. 
"Master, please use your slave for your pleasure, Master!"  

The slave grunted loudly as the Master thrust himself deeply into her, deeper than
anything had ever been before.  Just as quickly, he pulled up until just he head was
inside her, then thrust downward again, impaling her like a spear.  Up and down, in and
out he pistoned, causing fuckbunny to experience two more orgasms before he cock
finally spewed semen inside her.  He withdrew as the last spurts expended from his
cock, leaving a coating of fluid on her puffy, swollen snatch.  Then, without another
word, he rolled over onto his back and unclipped her wrists.

"Clean me," he commanded. 

Two simple words, but the meaning was unmistakable.  Fuckbunny rolled onto her
knees, raising her ass high into the air, allowing her Master to view her in the mirrored
closet doors.  Crawling between his splayed legs, she gently lowered her puckered lips
to the very tip of his now-softening penis, sucking and nibbling the semen still slowly
flowing from his piss-hole.  Master laid back, his back propped up on the piled pillows,
hands clasped behind his head as he relaxed and watched the novice slave at work.

After carefully working her tongue and lips over the head, she began licking the shaft
clean.  The taste wasn't all that different from what she'd noticed in the gym; a bit
sweeter, perhaps, and without the plastic-like flavor of the dildos.  She ran the tip of her
tongue around the underside of the circumcised head, marveling at how it twitched
slightly with every light touch.  Licking up and down his member like a child with a
lollipop, she coated her tongue with their combined juices, wallowing in the lewd act she
was performing.  She could feel his semen dripping from her well-used quim, making
her feel even nastier.  She liked that feeling, though, and the knowledge of what she
was doing - and why - caused her cunt to produce more of its slimy fluid.

Finally, after working her way down to her Master's balls and back up again, she tried to
take him fully into her mouth.  His size, though, was too much, and she was barely able
to handle half his length.  She kept bobbing her head lower and lower, though, a
fraction of an inch more each time, before her gag reflex kicked in.  Taking her head in
his hands, the Master carefully pulled her off his now-hard cock.

"Don't worry about it for now," he told her.  "Eventually, you'll be able to swallow cocks
even larger than mine, but that's for later.  It takes practice, and don't worry, you'll get
plenty of that."

"Master, yes, Master," she replied, her face flushed in embarrassment once again.

"Now, on the shelf in the bathroom is a tube of lubricant.  Bring it here," he ordered. 
The girl lowered herself to the floor and quickly scurried on all fours, returning less than
a minute later.

"You'll need to put a generous glob directly on your asshole," he told her, "and then use
your fingers to work it in.  Tell me once you are able to get two fingers up your ass
without much pain, and then you can grease up my cock."

"Master, yes, Master," the girl said, a frightened look in her eyes.  She knew all along
she'd eventually be ass-fucked, but after her painful experience in the gym, she wasn't
sure how she'd manage to take something as big as her Master's shaft.  It took her
several agonizing minutes of carefully spreading lubricant on her fingers and then
gently poking them inside her rectum before she finally announced that she had two
fingers fully inside.

"Good.  Lube them up again and start finger-fucking your ass, in and out.  I want you to
work at different angles.  The more stretched out you get yourself, the less it will hurt
when I fuck your ass."

Fuckbunny pulled her fingers out and slathered more of the water-based lubricant on
them, then resumed her work, following her Master's instructions to vary the angle,
speeding up and slowing down at his command.  The thought of the filthy act she was
doing, and of what was soon going to be done to her, caused her to react as so many
other things in the past few days had; she was so wet now that she could feel her cunt
drooling.

"Spread your fingers apart as far as you can, and pull them out slowly," her Master
commanded.  Fuckbunny winced as a sharp, stinging pain caused her to stop
momentarily to readjust her fingers, but was able to comply.  She sat there, looking at
her hand, the fingernails covered with a combination of shit and the clear, greasy
substance.

"Just wipe it off on your belly for now," her Master ordered.  "Get on your knees with
your face on the mattress like a good slut begging to be ass-fucked."  The Master
turned fuckbunny sideways on the bed, forcing her face to the left so she would have a
clear view in the mirror of her upcoming degradation.  

"This will be the only time you'll get so much lubrication.  From now on, you're expected
to keep your asshole greased up in case anyone wants to use it.  If you don't, then
you'll just get it dry," he explained, moving up behind her with his now-hard tool in his
hand.  Fuckbunny's eyes were focused on the mirror, watching as he pointed the very
tip of his cock at her grease-covered hole.  Her eyes widened and she let out a small
squeal as he slowly pushed himself past the elastic-like mouth of her asshole.

"Open up for me," he commanded.  "Make like you're trying to shit, and it won't hurt so
much."

Fuckbunny responded, straining down and causing her sphincter to open, allowing her
Master's cock to slide unimpeded into her bowels.  She groaned quietly as he began to
hump her, a result of both the discomfort and overwhelming abasement she was feeling
at that moment.  She continued to stare into the mirror, focusing on the shaft as it
disappeared and reappeared as her Master thrust into her.  She could feel something
wet dripping down her thighs; was it the lubricant or her own cunt juices, she
wondered?

Suddenly, the Master made one last hard thrust, slamming himself more deeply into her
bowels than ever before.  Fuckbunny grunted in response, then realized her Master's
cock was pulsating.  She felt hot semen shoot into her intestines as he reached under
and grabbed her tits, pulling on them painfully. The combination of sensations caused
fuckbunny to achieve release once more, this one the most powerful yet, causing her to
collapse on her belly.  They both lay there, her Master on top of her, his softening cock
still imbedded in her quivering ass.  Unable to move, fuckbunny reveled in the aftermath
of the most sexual experience to date in her young life.  Finally, her Master's breathing
returned to normal, and he pulled out.

Without hesitation, fuckbunny lowered her mouth over the now-shrinking cock, taking it
all in her mouth with ease.  She nearly gagged at the taste of her own shit, but knew it
was expected of her.  She sucked it down quickly, knowing if she hesitated at all she'd
be unable to complete the disgusting task.  Once the majority of the fecal matter was off
his cock, she focused on the small details: the brown stains along the underside of the
head, the glob of excess lubricant on his balls.  Fuckbunny discovered she disliked the
taste of the lubricant even more than the shit, but continued to gently clean her Master
until he finally pushed her away.

"Enough.  Bedtime now.  Let's get you in your cage."

Fuckbunny was disappointed.  She'd hoped that after her performance - which she
thought was pretty good for a beginner - she'd be permitted to share her Master's bed
with him, or at least sleep on the floor at his feet.  Instead, Master hooked a finger
through fuckbunny's collar and led her into the small cage.  The only way the girl could
fit inside was to tuck her legs under her, balled up with her face pressed against the
bars on one side and her ass against the other.  Once she was inside, the Master
reached through the bars and locked fuckbunny's wrists to her collar again, then used a
small padlock to secure fuckbunny's nose ring to the cage.  Finally, he attached thin,
strong wires to fuckbunny's labia rings, tying them to opposite sides of the cage,
causing the abused slave's cunt to gape open.  All fuckbunny could do is kneel there in
her cramped position, unable to move, and feel the absolute debasement as her
Master's semen dripped slowly down her legs.

6: Training Begins

In her current state, the slave now known as fuckbunny was able to only doze for a few
minutes at a time through the night.  She concentrated on the sound of her Master's
breathing, listening to the quiet snores of a satiated man for the first time and thinking
back on her experiences thus far.  She'd been humiliated, degraded, abused, shaved
bald as a cue ball, starved, worked like a dog, and finally, after her virginity was stolen
in the most humiliating manner, fucked in all three of her holes.  She'd undergone so
much in such a very short time, but knew there was much more yet to come.

The morning sun finally began to shine through the bedroom window, causing the girl's
Master to stir.  Without so much as a glance at her, he got out of bed and walked naked
into the bathroom.  Fuckbunny could hear the familiar sound of a man pissing, this time
not muffled by a closed bathroom door as when her father and brother would do it.  She
heard the shower running.  Oh, how nice a shower would feel right now, she thought to
herself, to wash away the filth from her abused body.  She longed for even the harsh
spray of the fire hose,  just to have some small semblance of cleanliness.  She listened
as the water stopped, then a few moments later, strained to look up as her Master
reentered the bedroom, drying himself off with a towel.

"Ah, that was great," he commented to himself.  "Nothing like a nice hot shower to start
the day."  Tossing the towel on the floor, he fumbled for a moment to release
fuckbunny's restraints, then opened her cage.  "Go get me some breakfast, then you
can start cleaning the place up," he said.  "When you're done with that, your breakfast
is in he fridge."

"Master, may this slave take a shower, Master?" the girl asked, slowly stretching her
cramped, sore body.  The singular glare she received in reply gave her the only answer
she needed.  "Yes, Master," she acknowledged with resignation.  She crawled off into
the kitchen, feeling dirtier than she ever had in her life, the dried remains of the night's
activities a hard, crusty filth over her body.  She could even smell the evidence of her
recent abuse, the mixture of male and female fluids an odor that somehow aroused her.

She found that her Master had set out all the necessities for his breakfast; today, a
simple bowl of cereal with fresh fruit.  Fuckbunny's mouth salivated at the thought of
fresh fruit.  While she was dicing an apple for his fruit bowl, she gave fleeting thought to
just a single nibble, then became immediately angry at herself for such an idea.  If her
Master wanted her to have fruit, he'd feed it to her.  She was so upset at herself that
after slicing an orange into wedges, she wouldn't even lick the juice off her fingers. 
Instead, she set the food on the table and crawled out to the living room, quietly
announcing that breakfast was served.

While her Master ate his meal and browsed the local newspaper, fuckbunny scurried
from room to room, straightening up.  Stripping the sheets from the bed, she tossed
them in the laundry chute - there were other slaves who would take care of that - and
quickly remade the bed with clean, crisp linen.  Likewise, the clothing her Master had so
casually strewn across the room earlier.  However, still beating herself up over her
earlier inappropriate request, she felt the need to debase herself even further.  Rather
than gathering his clothes up all at once, she crawled from room to room, carrying each
item individually in her mouth to the chute.  When she found his socks, she made sure
to work each one fully into her mouth, nearly gagging on the nasty taste of his sweaty
feet.  She did nearly the same with his undershorts, placing the crotch in her mouth
first, working her tongue over the stains and tasting his man odor.  

Her actions were not unnoticed.  The Master, seemingly engrossed in his newspaper,
was well aware of what the slave was doing.  Even if he hadn't been paying attention,
the myriad of surveillance cameras surreptitiously placed throughout the apartment
ensured a permanent record was made.  He smiled to himself, knowing this was one
special slave.

"Master, fuckbunny has completed her chores, Master," the girl finally reported,
kneeling submissively at his feet.  Without a word, he went to the refrigerator and took
out a small container, which he placed on the floor.

"Why were you carrying my dirty clothes in your mouth?" he asked, a bushy eyebrow
raised questioningly.

"Master," she softly confessed, "the slave thought about eating some of its Master's
breakfast, and it needed to remind itself of its proper place, Master."

"I see," he said, making a mental note to record this in her file.  "You may eat," he said,
removing the lid and displaying the contents to the slave.

Her file contained all her known likes and dislikes, including food.  Naturally, then, the
food items a slave hated the most would be those fed to her most often.  Today was no
exception; fuckbunny looked down in dismay at the slop in front of her, and recognized
bits and pieces of the food she detested the most.  Lima beans...eggs...bleu
cheese...all floating in a clumpy mess of buttermilk.  Fuckbunny nearly wretched at just
the terrible smell, but managed to stifle her immediate distaste and started to lower her
head.

"Wait," her Master commanded.  "You only eat out of your own bowl, remember?"

Fuckbunny remembered.  In particular, she remembered using that same bowl to
relieve her bladder the previous day.  She slowly crawled to the sink, opened the
bottom cupboard and retrieved her multi-purpose bowl.  Returning to her Master's side,
she waited patiently while he made a show of scooping the rancid-smelling slop from
one container to the other.  Fighting to overcome her desire to gag, fuckbunny bent
down over the bowl and lapped it up as quickly as she could, the better to keep from
vomiting.  After she was done, her Master waited patiently while she urinated in her
combination feed dish/toilet.  She was surprised that she didn't have to shit; she
thought that after the way her bowels attacked the previous night, it would be a pressing
need.  She was surprised when he allowed her to dump the contents of her bowl in the
toilet, instead of making her drink it.

"Okay, time to get you to class.  Just do what you're told, and I'll see you this evening,"
he told his slave, snapping the leash to her collar once more and leading her out into
the morning sun.

To be seen in her current state, her body splotched with dried semen, blood, vaginal
fluid and sticky with lubricant, her face covered with the remains of breakfast, mortified
the young girl.  Everyone would know exactly what happened to her, and would no
doubt assume she was a willing participant.  That she enjoyed most of it was beside the
point; good girls didn't do things like she did, and even if they did, nobody was
supposed to know!  As she crawled across the campus, she could feel the knowing
eyes of staff and visitors on her filthy, abused body.  She simply wanted to curl up and
die, she was so ashamed of what she had become, of what had been done to her. 
Even the embarrassment of her neighbors and friends watching her being led out of the
courtroom naked paled by comparison.

Fuckbunny's first class of the day, as luck would have it, was on personal hygiene and
the need to keep as clean as possible.  While some of the other girls had obviously
been used the night before - perhaps even earlier that morning - none bore the extreme
signs as she did, and none stunk of used cunt, semen and shit as she did.  The Trainer
- a live woman this time, not a video tape - gave detailed instructions on a variety of
areas, from proper oral care to the risks of douching too often.  The students learned
how to take manage to get completely clean in a two minute shower, the best way to
remove the smell of urine from their breath, and how to thoroughly clean one's own
bowels with an enema.  The videos shown were detailed and graphic, but there was no
actual hands-on experience.  Fuckbunny left the room just as foul-smelling as she'd
entered it; perhaps a bit more pungent, actually, as the visuals had managed to cause a
reaction she still didn't understand.

Following hygiene class was another two hour session in the gym, this time with 30
other girls.  Fortunately, there was nothing so cruel as the barbarous bicycle she'd been
forced to ride the previous day, but again, there was also no shower.  After three
circuits on the workout equipment and a demanding three miles on the treadmill, a
quick drink of water was all she received.  The stench of her own body now nauseated
her; sweat had caused the feces and fluids covering her body to reek even more.  Even
the other slaves shied away from her, so debilitating was the smell.  Fuckbunny was left
alone to wallow in her own dreadfully sickening scent as she struggled on the stair
stepper.

By now, it was the noon hour.  It was time for the staff to have lunch, so there was a 90
minute break in classes.  Slaves, however, are fed only morning and evening, so they
were put to work in the yard while awaiting the next session to begin.  Fuckbunny found
herself mixing  fresh manure into the mulch piles.  Of course, this simply added to the
unpleasant smell following her, but she no longer even noticed it.  It was hard, hot work
to be wielding a shovel in the blazing sun, but fuckbunny went at it with a relish, hoping
that perhaps her stench would get so bad that they'd have to allow her a shower.  Alas,
her hopes came to naught, so she was led off to her next session covered now in cum,
sweat and cow shit.

The next several hours were spent viewing videos of various sexual activity, with
narration explaining the proper methods of such elementary techniques as deep
throating, ass reaming and the like.  Again, the slaves were attached to the
computerized touch screens for their end-of-class examination.  This time, wrong
answers were recorded rather than resulting in an immediate electrical shock; many of
the poorer-scoring slaves would find out the shocks would have preferable.  Unknown
to her, fuckbunny scored third highest in the group of 90 girls - a record for such an
inexperienced slave.

Finally, just after being taken to the slave dining hall and given a meager dinner of
warm gruel, fuckbunny was taken aside and given a quick shower.  There was no hot
water for her, but the soap, fragrant douche and warm enema allowed her to feel
somewhat clean.  It was time for her follow-up medical exam, and it wouldn't do to have
the doctor mistake a fleck of shit or bit of dried blood for something more serious. 
Another fairly complete physical, including a rather cursory mental health evaluation this
time, showed she was in fairly decent health, considering the physical and emotional
abuses she'd undergone.  Blood and urine samples were once again taken to ensure
the initial diagnosis, but the slave was given a clean bill of health.  Except for a few
scrapes on her knees and fatigue, the physician recorded, she was fine.  Even her
piercings had healed, and notwithstanding the minor abuse inflicted on her labia rings
the night before, they could be now all be exploited just in time for her evening class. 
She was led out of the clinic on a leash not attached to her collar, but to her nose ring.

Now it was time to begin learning how to fuck.

The classroom this time consisted of six separate areas, complete with a bed and chair,
equally spaced along the two longer walls of the room.  Next to the foot of each bed
was an opaque plastic box. The floor was carpeted in the same material as the staff
apartments, except for a small rectangular area at the base of each bed.  The slaves
were positioned in a kneeling position on the hard tile.

"Finger-fuck yourselves!" the male Trainer commanded.  

Fuckbunny's right hand shot to her widely spread slit, two fingers immediately plunging
into her sopping hole.  A moan escaped from her lips as she realized how good it felt,
and how wet she was.  She reached up with her left hand to squeeze her breast - her
tit, she mentally corrected - and had barely done so when her world went white from a
kick to the side of her head.

"I said finger-fuck yourself, cunt, not play with your cow tits!  Finger-fuck means just
that.  No squeezing your honkers, no flicking your clit, no fingering your asshole, no
matter how good it feels.  Just sit there and start jamming those fingers up your
fuckhole until I say ‘stop,' and don't even think about cumming!"

Fuckbunny barely heard the words as she struggled back to her knees, but understood
and began doing exactly as commanded.  As the Trainer kept barking at her, she
continued to piston two, then three, then four fingers as far up her cunt as she could,
feeling the tissue stretch painfully.  She could hear the squish-squish-squish as her
digits continued their assault, reveling in the sensation of having her hole gape open
even after her fingers were removed.  The room quickly filled with the odor of the six
wet cunts - seven, if you counted the female Trainer, but she was wearing a black
leather jump suit, so even if she was wet, it was unlikely she contributed to the room's
distinctive odor.

"All of you, stop fucking but keep your fingers inside those wet fuckholes!" the male
announced.  Once he was sure they'd all obeyed, he continued.  "Spread your fingers
apart as far as you can.  I want those cunts spread open far enough to take a bowling
ball!"

This was, of course, impossible, but the six very horny slaves did their best to comply. 
Fuckbunny winced as she spread her fingers, moving them out until only the first
knuckles were still inside her, the better to open herself widely.  

"Look how sloppy those cunts are," the female commented loudly.  "I can't see why any
man would want a sloppy, loose hole to fuck when he could have a nice tight one! 
What a bunch of slutty whores.  Look how soaked those useless pieces of fuckmeat
are!" She continued to pile on the verbal abuse, causing some of the girls to blush in
embarrassment, but it only made fuckbunny that much wetter.  

"Just wait until we get to double-fisting, an arm up your cunt and a hand in your ass!"  

The words created a combination of fear and desire in  fuckbunny, causing a wave of
dizziness washed over her.  The male Trainer mistook her movements for an impending
orgasm and rewarded her with a hard blow across the face with his crop, raising a welt
on her cheek and bloodying her nose.

"YOU - WILL - NOT - CUM - WITH - OUT - PER - MIS -SION!" the female screeched,
as both cruelly rained blows across the dazed slave's body.  Fuckbunny screamed in
response as pain coursed through her entire body, unable to form the words she
needed in order to explain. Losing balance, she toppled forward and cracked her head
on the hard ceramic tile.  There was a collective gasp from the other slaves as their
sister lay unconscious on the floor.

"Keep working those fuckholes!" the woman screamed, refocusing her attention on the
other slaves.  "I want those cunts so loose you'll have to use a pillow for a tampon!" 
The five conscious slaves responded immediately, terrified of what this lunatic bitch
might do to them. 

While the female ensured her charges were busy spreading their cunt lips, the male
quickly checked on fuckbunny.  He noted she was breathing regularly and her pupils
were responsive to light, so made the immediate diagnosis that there was no major
injury.  He waited only a moment before raising the slave to her knees, eliciting another
scream when he lifted her by the nipple rings.  The lump on her bald scalp was
immediately visible, but there was no broken skin.

"Spread that pussy, cunt!" he commanded, as fuckbunny groggily tried to comply.  He
wasn't satisfied with her efforts, though, and as soon as her fingers were planted deeply
into her cunt, he used his own to spread them even further.  "Like this, bitch!" he yelled,
"Wider!"  She felt as if she was being split apart at the legs, it hurt so bad.

The two Trainers made the slaves continue to their self-abuse for another ten minutes,
after which time they were placed in an ass-up, face-down position for inspection.  Each
slave's cunt was quickly inspected and found to be swollen, sopping wet and gaping
open like an angry, weeping wound.  Fuckbunny sobbed quietly at this new indignation,
tasting the snot and blood slowly seeping from her damaged nostril.

"Okay, bitches, turn around and face me!" the woman commanded.  None of the girls
noticed that the male had left the room.  "There are going to be times when your cunts
are going to be useless - like now - so today you're going to start learning how to please
a man without using that particular hole.  Since many men like a to start with a good
mouth fuck, that's what today's lesson will be.  Open your toy boxes and take out the
black dildo," she ordered.

Fuckbunny turned sideways and lifted the lid off the plastic box by her bed.  Inside, she
saw were a variety of "toys," though she could hardly call them that.  She didn't even
know what half of them were called, but quickly pushed aside the red ball gag and pink
butt plug to pull out a soft black latex dildo.  It was completely realistic, down to the
veins, stubbly ball sac and slight bend.  It was also larger than her Master's, she
realized.  She turned to face forward again, holding it firmly in her hand.  The Trainer
waited until all the slaves had retrieved the appropriate item.

"You are slaves," she pronounced quite unnecessarily.  "Most of you will become the
property of men, and therefore you will begin right now to learn to worship the male sex
organ.  Every time you see a photo of one, every time you touch the representation of
one, you will immediately treat it as your God.  Your entire life revolves around the God
Penis.  He is your reason for living, your only reason for being."  Her prepared, oft-
repeated speech was meant to sound exactly as what it was - a sermon.  "You love
your God, and you will do anything to serve Him.  He is everything to you, and you are
nothing.  Men are the altar upon which your God lives, and through men your God
speaks.  Abase yourself before the representation of your God!"

Each of the girls reacted differently to the command.  One lowered her eyes and
hugged the dildo between her swollen breasts.  Another rested the base on the floor
and knelt over hers, sliding it inside her yawning cunt.  Fuckbunny, though, did none of
these.  Instead, she carefully rested hers on the carpet, head pointed towards her
naked body, and bent forward at the waist until her forehead was touching the floor. 
The Trainer smiled, watching the girl remain in that position for a moment before
carefully sliding her body forward and gently kissing the bulbous head of the shiny black
dildo.  She knew what fuckbunny was doing: paying homage to her God, prostrating
herself before Him and, perhaps, saying a silent prayer that she could learn to be a
good slave.  In all these things, the Trainer was correct.

Their few moments of silent reflection and humility over, the Trainer began instructing
her charges in the fine art of cock sucking.  Though each of the slaves had been fucked
in the mouth before, this was different.  The earlier oral penetration fuckbunny had
been subjected to was for no other reason than to debase her and remove that
particular hole of it's virgin status.  Now they were being instructed in the ways a slave
can give pleasure to her Master's cock.  To lick it lovingly, paying special attention to
the sensitive underside and the area round the base of the head.  To gently wrap their
lips around the head and gently suck, and then to lower their mouths over the shaft. 
Fuckbunny followed her Trainer's instructions, keeping slight pressure with her lips
while she lowered herself as far as she could go, then a quarter of an inch further
before slowly riding back up the shaft and running her tongue around the head.  Then
she repeated it, each time going slightly deeper until she could feel the tip touch the
back of her throat, causing her to choke violently.  Her mouth maintained its grip,
however, and even through her spasm of coughing, she tried to wedge the dildo deeper
into her throat.

"That's enough," the Trainer finally told her.  "We don't want your esophagus damaged. 
You've done well for your first time.  Give yourself an orgasm," she ordered.

By now, fuckbunny was so attuned to immediate, absolute obedience that she
automatically began frigging herself with her fingers, announcing her cum only seconds
later with a loud moan before collapsing.  Even laying on the floor, she continued to rub
herself; she'd not been commanded to stop, her subconscious reasoned..  No matter
how much she tried, however, she was unable to have another orgasm.  The Trainer
had ordered her to give herself "an" orgasm - just one - and her brain simply would not
permit her another.  Still, she continued to hump her fingers, becoming wetter and
wetter with need, until she was finally told to stop.

"Slaves must be able to perform orally on women as well," the Trainer told the class. 
"Unfortunately, I'm the only woman here today and I have no desire to let your scummy
tongues touch me, so you'll to pretend by practicing on each other.  Just because you
have a hole between your legs, that doesn't make you female."  The Trainer made it
clear that she didn't even consider the six slaves to be worthy of that title.  She had
three of the girls lay flat on their backs and had the other three crawl to a position above
them, mouths to cunts, and then begin licking.

"Any woman who wants a quick cum can get a man or vibrator to take care of that. 
Your job is going to be to make your partner as hot as you can, for as long as you can,
without letting her cum.  I expect the slut on bottom to have cunt juice filling her ears
before either of you cums!  On your marks - get set - go!" she commanded.

Up to this point, fuckbunny's only exposure to a real, live pussy had been at the training
center.  Other than the couple of times she'd been clipped to one, she'd never seen a
cunt up close.  Sure, she'd smelled and even tasted vaginal fluids over the past couple
of weeks, but licking another girl's swollen gash was something she never expected to
do.  Even after becoming a slave, she never gave it any thought, and now that it was
time to get busy, she didn't have any idea what to do.

Fuckbunny was on her back, her partner's crotch just inches from her face.  She began
to carefully examine the sight above her - she'd never even looked at herself in the
mirror before and seen what a real cunt looks like - and began cataloging what she
saw.  She knew what caused pleasure in herself, so quickly equated those areas of her
own body with what she was seeing.  From photos, she recognized some of the
landmarks - the clitoris, labia majora and minora; she could even see the torn remnants
of her hymen.  The slave above her was obviously excited; fuckbunny watched as a
dollop of cunt drool slowly dribbled out of the girl's hole, clinging momentarily to her ass
before dripping onto fuckbunny's chin.  

Then she felt her partner's tongue between her own legs, and a spasm ran through her.
Fuckbunny responded by initiating her own assault, wrapping her arms around her
partner's ass and pulling the girl's slime-covered crotch into her face.  Rabidly she
attacked the girl's cunt, repeatedly flicking her tongue firmly over the erect clitoris before
she remembered what she was supposed to be doing.  Her mission was not to force a
quick cum, but to delay it as much as possible.  "Get cunt slime in your ears," she
recalled the Trainer saying, smiling to herself as she backed off.

Fuckbunny found the taste of her mate's pussy to be rather sweet, but a bit salty.  She
remembered all the jokes about smelling like fish, and thought how wrong they were.  It
was nothing like fish at all, she reasoned as she sucked a labium in between her lips,
giving the folds of the girl's hole gentle little kisses.  She rubbed her face as deeply into
the folds as she could, knowing her Trainer would expect her face to be sticky with cunt
drool, then cupped her mouth over the hole itself and began attacking it, using her
tongue like a little penis and fucking it in and out.  Her cohort's thick thighs covering her
ears, fuckbunny nonetheless heard a muffled scream as one of the other slaves
involuntarily announced an orgasm.  She slowed her efforts, being rewarded with 
a similar deceleration of the tongue between her own legs.  Now she simply
concentrated on the periphery; licking the area around the clit, occasionally taking the
flat top of her tongue and lapping one continuous stripe from the asshole forward. 
Every time she did this, the girl's legs quivered uncontrollably; she innately knew if she
kept up this particular action, an orgasm would result.  Her aim wasn't to provide relief,
but to leave the other slave in need, so she used this particular maneuver with restraint.

By the time the Trainer pulled them apart nearly an hour later, both slaves were
saturated in the other's juices, but neither had cum.  When the Trainer had the slaves
kneel in front of the mirrored wall, all fuckbunny could think of was how her bald head
looked like someone had poured lacquer over it.  She turned her head slightly and
smiled; she did indeed have girl cum in her ear!  Fuckbunny felt so nasty to see herself
with cunt juice drying on her face.  She hoped her Master would let her keep it; she
wanted to wear it as a badge of honor for everyone to see.

7:  Becoming Bitch

The next few weeks for fuckbunny consisted of more of the same: being awakened
covered in dried semen and her own juices after too little sleep either in her cage or
chained to the floor; serving her Master his meal and cleaning the apartment; then a
long, arduous day in a variety of classes.  Fuckbunny had been singled out for a custom
regimen, at the request of her still-unknown Owner, so she was put on an accelerated
schedule.  Already she was in a group that had only a few weeks before auction; soon
she would be placed with returning slaves who were being given advanced training in
specialty skills.  All the while, her peers who had arrived with her on the cuntmobile
were barely out of the newbie kennels.  For the slave known as fuckbunny, though, life
was becoming fairly routine.  That was all to change, beginning today.

Last night, Master had taken another slave to his bed and satiated himself with her. 
Fuckbunny, chained to the floor, was simply forced to watch as a new girl showed her
how to please a man.  Fuckbunny felt ashamed that she'd still not been able to take her
Master's cock all the way down her throat; this new slut managed the feat with
seemingly effortless skill.  The pathetic girl on the floor watched while her Master even
kept his cock planted there for well over five minutes while the other slave slowly
breathed through her nostrils without any apparent distress.  Oh, how she wanted to
learn how to overcome her own gag reflex!  Her Master - and any man who desired to
use her, for that matter - deserved nothing less!

What fuckbunny didn't understand was that the new girl was going to be her
replacement, and she would be sent to a new Master this very day.  There was a strict
policy that no Trainer would keep the same slave for over a month.  Experience had
shown that longer periods often caused true relationships - loving relationships - to
form, and like the prisons of old, such emotional intimacy was contrary to the mission. 
The slaves were nothing more than property, and the mission was to dehumanize, train
and condition them for their new lives.  The fact that Fuckbunny actually stayed with
one Master for an entire month was quite unusual; the norm was ten days, but many
were only three or four.  When a Master kept a slave for even two weeks, it was cause
for raised eyebrows.  Of course, fuckbunny knew none of this.  At this point, all she
knew was that Master was busy boffing some other lucky bitch.

It wasn't until after her morning classes that she found out.  Rather than taking her out
to work with the rest of the girls, fuckbunny was told to remain in the classroom.  She
knelt there on the hard tile floor, knees spread wide with her hands clasped behind her
head, waiting anxiously.  She had no idea what she'd done to warrant special
treatment, and was completely baffled as to why she had been left alone in the room. 
As she mentally reviewed her actions of that morning, the sound of the door opening
and then closing snapped her out of her reverie.  Instinctively, she lowered her eyes to
the floor, remaining motionless while the unseen entrant slowly walked around her,
inspecting her nude form.  Finally he - it was a he, she could see from the shoes -
stopped directly in front of her, his feet actually between her outstretched thighs.

"Look at me, cunt!" he commanded.  Fuckbunny noticed the voice was higher-pitched
than her Master's deep, gravelly tones.  She lifted her eyes and saw a short, wiry, dark
skinned man of African descent standing before her.  Her eyes immediately focused on
his; he had a cruel look, she thought.  She was shocked at the next command out of his
mouth.

"Cum!" he ordered.  Fuckbunny looked up at him confused, causing him to repeat the
command.  "I told you to cum, bitch.  Get those fingers to work on that slimy hole of
yours and show me how a stupid slave cunt like you cums!"  He accentuated the
command with an open-hand blow to the side of her head, as if to knock the order into
her brain.

"Master, this slave's Master does not permit..." she started to say, stopping when he
grasped her jaw in his hand and squeezed her face painfully.

"I am your Master now, cunt.  I don't care what your last Master said.  You obey me
now!"

Still confused at this sudden change of events, fuckbunny hesitated only a fraction of a
second before unclasping the hands locked behind her head and getting busy.  With
two fingers of her left hand shoved in her hole, she used her right hand to quickly flick
her already erect clitoris.  She assumed this new Master wanted her to waste no time,
and simply wanted to see how she reacted when she came.  She was partially right. 
Mostly, he wanted to humiliate her.  He'd read about her upbringing, and knew the was
a true white bread, upper class bitch who never would have associated with a black
man - except, perhaps, if he was a sky cap or bell hop.  Now she was forced to kneel at
one's feet and bring herself to orgasm.  

Although fuckbunny knew literally hundreds of people had seen her naked, maybe
thousands having viewed the video of her losing her cherry to the bicycle seat, being
forced to display herself so wantonly before this stranger...she couldn't describe the
feelings that were going through her, but she'd never been more humiliated in her life,
never felt more like an object, a thing for this man's amusement.  Her face turned red
as she felt her orgasm approach, not wanting to bring herself to what she so urgently
needed, but knowing that it would happen regardless.  She knew what she was
expected to do, and opened her mouth widely in expectation of the loud scream of
pleasure to erupt from her throat.

As soon as fuckbunny's mouth opened, though, her new Master quickly and forcefully
shoved his rock-hard dick into it, as hard as he could.  He was skinnier than her former
Master, but quite a bit longer, and hit the entrance to her throat before he was halfway
in.  Still not able to take a cock down her throat, fuckbunny instinctively panicked.  She
began gagging and pulled her hands away from her sopping wet crotch just as her
orgasm began.  Even with her Master holding her firmly by the back of the head and
forcing her to swallow his cock, fuckbunny couldn't stop the explosion that was
occurring in her groin.  Overcome by the combination of her orgasm and the inability to
breathe, she did the unthinkable.  She bit down.  Her Master responded with a scream,
shoving her away forcefully and causing her head to bounce off the back wall.

"You bitch!  You bit me!" he screamed.  "Oh, fuck!" he bellowed, taking his now-
shrinking cock in his hands and seeing the deep tooth marks.  He should have been
thankful that she hadn't broken skin - or even bitten it off - but all he felt at that point
was pain and anger.  He responded with a harsh kick to the now-supine slave's soft
belly, causing her to roll into a fetal position and vomit.  All he wanted to do was kill the
bitch, and he would have if it weren't for the constantly-monitored surveillance cameras. 
Just as he cocked his booted foot back for shot to the helpless girl's face, four of the
security staff rushed in and managed to restrain him.  While two escorted him from the
room, the other two quickly placed fuckbunny in restraints.  With one grabbing the cuffs
behind her back and the other the spreader bar between her ankles, fuckbunny was
carried out of the classroom.  Her own body weight caused her shoulders to be pulled
painfully rearward, and every step and jostle caused excruciating pain to course
through her body.

Once outside, she was dumped unceremoniously onto her back, the spreader bar
quickly attached to a conveniently-placed restraining ring embedded in a block of
concrete.  A chain was threaded through her nose ring and fastened to poles on either
side of her head, leaving her virtually immobile.  With her hands still cuffed in the small
of her back, her shoulders ached.  She let out a small moan of agony; one of the
guards responded by forcing her mouth open while his partner inserted a dental gag
between her teeth, clamping it wide open.  

"You'll be taught not to bite a man's cock," he sneered.  "I hope they yank your teeth
out.  There's nothing in the world like a knob job from a toothless bitch," he commented.

Fuckbunny remained bound there in the hot sun for well over two hours, until the on-
duty physician was finished treating her victim.  The doctor arrived with two orderlies in
tow, gave her a quick examination, and declared there was no major injury.

"Abdominal bruising, no indication of internal injury. Possible shoulder strain, but no
dislocation.  Esophagus appears intact but inflamed.  No medical restrictions indicated,"
he commented into his digital recorder.  Then, turning to the guards, he asked, "Where
is she going next?"

"Kennels," one answered.  "Bitch duty."

"I don't think that would be a problem.  Doesn't appear anything is broken, and maybe a
few weeks there would teach her some manners.  She's lucky there was no serious
damage to her Trainer."

"Yeah," the first guard answered knowingly.  "If there had been, she'd be wishing she
could pull something as easy as bitch duty.  I'm still surprised she's keeping her teeth,"
he commented offhandedly.

"Yeah, same here, but this one is a special case," the doctor replied.

"Figures," he said, shaking his head.  "Prime looking piece like that...hell, too bad she's
not going to be a house slut. I wouldn't mind shoving it in her, teeth or no teeth."  He
leaned over and snapped his short leather leash to fuckbunny's nose ring.  "Heel,
bitch!" he commanded.  "Time to go meet your new Masters."

The two guards took of a near-trot, the slave girl pathetically unable to keep up the
pace on her hands and knees.  Even when she faltered, they barely slowed, stopping
only momentarily when it seemed further pressure on the leash would rip the grommet
from her septum.  They took the long way, too, making sure to follow the gravel paths
for no other reason than to inflict pain.  Twice when fuckbunny fell, they simply grabbed
her by the collar and dragged her across the rocks.  Whatever damage they might be
doing was immaterial to them; security staff here were not selected for their
compassion.

Upon arriving at the kennels, the guards pulled the roster indicating which dog would be
fuckbunny's new Master.

"Prince," one read out loud.  "I almost feel sorry for the cunt." 

"Fuck that, man," the second guard replied.  "The bitch is getting off easy.  I still think
they still ought to yank her teeth," he said, directing a kick to the panting, prone girl on
the floor.  "Get up, you useless cunt!" he yelled.  "Time to go meet your new Master!"

While fuckbunny struggled to her knees, she was yanked across the floor by her collar
once more, past a locked door to the dog runs.  The noise of forty barking dogs
immediately assaulted her ears; they knew fresh fuckmeat was arriving, and all wanted
it for themselves.  As fuckbunny was dragged down the aisle between the two rows of
runs, she saw that a few of the cages contained, in addition to one or two dogs, a
cowering, naked female.  The entourage stopped momentarily while a kennel cage was
unlocked.

"Your name is ‘bitch sixteen,' but mostly you'll be called ‘Prince's bitch.'  Bitch sixteen
because that's the number of this run.  Prince's bitch, because that's what you are now. 
Meet your new Master, Prince," the taller of the two told her.  "I'd advise you do give
Prince whatever he wants; he's been known to get rather rough with disobedient girls."

The slave was unable to acknowledge with more than a guttural noise due to her mouth
still being painfully spread open by the gag.  She looked up and saw Prince examining
her through the cage door.  He was the hugest dog she'd ever seen.  Some sort of mix,
perhaps German Shepherd and Mastiff, well over 100 pounds.  As soon as Prince
realized the kneeling girl was staring at him, he bared his teeth and let loose a low,
threatening growl.  The girl immediately lowered her eyes, causing Prince's tail to wag. 
A trained slut, he knew.  It had been so long for him...weeks, since those two bitches
out in the yard. 

Prince stepped back and allowed the door to be opened so his new bitch could crawl in. 
He preferred these hairless bitches to the ones who looked more like him; he enjoyed
not having a tail in the way, but even more, he thrived on the fear in their eyes.  He saw
that something was holding the new bitch's mouth open.  Well, that meant she couldn't
close her lips around him after mating, but then again, it would be easier to mark her as
his.  The hairless bitches never liked being marked, particularly when he marked their
mouths.  This one wouldn't have a choice, though.  That would be the first order of
business, he decided, marking it as his property.

Prince slowly padded around the naked girl, growling every time she moved, using his
nose to push her legs further apart.  He looked at her trembling body with satisfaction,
knowing how much enjoyment it would be to completely break her.  Finally, he walked
around in front of her and lapped at her face, shoving his elongated tongue into the
stretched opening of her mouth.  The bitch started to wretch; the thought of a dog giving
her a French kiss was too much to take.  Prince had other ideas, though, and simply
slapped her head with his front paw before continuing his oral assault.  He eventually
managed to stick the tip of his snout in between her widely stretched lips, digging his
tongue back into her throat.  He was satisfied that she simply held position, not even
gagging a bit.

Now that he'd established his place in the hierarchy, it was time to mark his property. 
Before his bitch could react, Prince stepped back as if to walk away from her, then lifted
his hind leg and shot a stream of hot urine directly into her face.  The bitch turned her
head, but it didn't matter whether any got in her mouth or not.  No other dog would dare
touch what he had claimed as his.

Prince's bitch wasn't thinking any of these things.  She was simply trembling in fear, on
all fours in her new Master's house, afraid that any movement on her part might cause
a violent reaction by this huge dog.  When he pissed on her, all she was able to do was
close her eyes and turn her head a bit, but even that didn't lessen the degradation she
felt.  She knew what the dog was doing; she knew he was marking his territory.  When
she finally opened her eyes after the spray of urine stopped, all she could see was the
dog's penis jutting out from his hairy belly.  She knew it wouldn't be long before it was
inside her.  It wasn't as large as any of the Trainers she'd seen, but she had little doubt
having this dog fuck her would be the most painful such experience - physically and
emotionally - she'd had to this point.  Almost without thought, she stared at it, cataloging
its appearance in her mind.  Rather pale colored, but with bright red veins running
through it, a somewhat small ball sac pulled tightly towards his belly at the base.  But
what scared her was the business end of the dog's rod, sticking out like an angry red
spear, so terrifyingly ugly, like an oversized finger with the skin ripped off.  She had all
these thoughts run through her mind almost simultaneously, terrified, unable to move.

Prince also had thoughts running through his mind, albeit much more primitive.  He
could smell the new bitch's scent, recognized her fear, but knew her body was getting
ready to receive her.  He thought briefly about her mouth, but remembered other girls
having similar devices holding them opened, and how unsatisfying it made that hole. 
No, he was going for that other wet hole, he decided.  

So it was that Prince looked his bitch in the eyes for a moment, snarling silently by
rolling his lips back and displaying his sharp teeth in warning.  He waited until she
lowered her eyes submissively - the bitch had to learn not to look him in the eyes,
something dogs recognized as a threat or challenge - and then strutted around to take
his position behind her.  Without preamble, Prince simply shoved his wet nose between
the bitch's even wetter thighs, sliding his long, rough tongue between the soft, bare
folds of her sex.  He sensed his bitch's muscles tensing, forcing her to reposition her
knees farther apart by shoving the inside of her thighs with his snout.  Satisfied with the
new position, he began attacking her swollen sex with gusto.  Prince always enjoyed
the taste of a sweaty, well-used bitch, particularly when they started pushing back
towards his tongue.  It didn't take this one long before it was thrusting it's ass high into
the air, giving Prince easier access.  He knew it was time.

Prince's cock was throbbing almost painfully as he backed away from his bitch.  He'd
done this so many times before, and always looked forward to the first time with a new
one.  He knew he had to wait for a minute or so; these hairless bitches were too fragile. 
That was his only complaint about them.  He looked at the bitch, watching her entire
body quake, viewing the wetness as her cunt responded instinctively to his earlier
ministration.  He could see the entrance to her wet hole spasming, as though sucking at
the air for something to fill it.  Well, he'd take care of that in short order.  It was time.

With another demanding growl of warning, Prince sidled up behind his new bitch,
placing his front paws high up on its back for support as he brought his rear paws
between her knees.  His pulsating dick, bouncing like a springboard, poked between
her ass cheeks, searching for its reward.  In this regard, the bitch helped, wiggling her
ass in an attempt to assist Prince in finding his target.  Then, suddenly, he was there. 
With a single powerful thrust, he imbedded his dick fully inside the bitch; she responded
with a very unhuman-like howl.  Whether it was of pain or lust, Prince didn't care; he
simply began jack-hammering his bitch in the only way he knew how, hard and fast.  He
battered his bitch's cunt, bruising it badly with his forceful thrusts, but he neither knew
nor cared.  He just kept at it while his knot swelled up inside her gaping hole, then with
a final shove, felt his semen blast into the bitch's body.  Prince's entire world became a
collage of stars on a black field as his cock spewed, his claws dragging across the
hairless bitch's back, leaving long, bloody trails.  Finally spent, he propped himself up
for a moment before finally rotating around so he and his bitch were ass-to-ass. 
Lowering himself to floor, he pulled her painfully down with him, his captive knot serving
as a sort of leash itself.  Sated, Prince curled up peacefully to rest, waiting the requisite
time for his hard cock to relax.  He heard his bitch sob quietly as she lay there, unable
to move, while Prince quickly dozed off.

When the dog awoke two hours later, he felt nearly refreshed.  His cock had slipped out
of the bitch, who was still sleeping fitfully, little moans coming from her throat.  Getting
up, Prince nudges her ass, prodding her thighs apart.  He always liked the taste of a
just-fucked bitch, and decided it was time for an oral encore.  His white, sticky semen
was drying on her thighs; he ignored that, going straight for the angrily swollen lips
guarding her sex.  The bitch jumped in surprise when her Master's rough tongue began
attacking her painfully sore and inflamed hole, but once becoming aware of her
surroundings, she simply spread her thighs, resigned to her humiliating fate.  Even as
sore and abused as she was, the slave found herself writhing in need as the dog
assaulted her, finally cumming with a loud squeal that brought one of the kennel staff to
the cage.

"That sounded like fun," she commented.  Prince's bitch remotely identified the voice as
female, looking up to see a tall redhead dressed in a shiny black leather jump suit.  The
slave blushed that the woman had seen her brought to orgasm by a dog.  "Aw, how
cute!" she commented.  "Prince, your bitch is embarrassed that you gave her pleasure!" 
The dog looked up at the sound of his name, wagging his tail expectantly.  He knew
what was coming next.

"Get over here, bitch," the Trainer said harshly.  "It's time to let Prince have access to
your mouth.  Understand this," she said as she unbuckled the dental gag, "Your mouth
is not to be used for speaking.  You are a bitch, and bitches don't talk.  If you need to
say something, you bark, growl or whimper. I wouldn't suggest growling around your
Master, though; he might take it the wrong way."  

Prince's bitch responded with a nod, lowering her head and slowly stretching her jaws
to alleviate the cramping pain she felt in them.

"You should probably get a drink of water, bitch.  I think Prince wants to use your mouth
for something," she laughed as she walked away, her heels clap-clapping on the
concrete walkway.

The slave looked over at Prince and saw him standing expectantly, wagging his tail,
dick poking out once again.  He'd understood the word ‘water.' though, and used his
snout to push his bitch towards the galvanized steel bucket on the floor.  He watched
patiently, growling only once when she attempted to use cupped hands to scoop water;
she was a bitch, and quickly realized what he wanted.  Submissively, she lowered her
head into the bucket, tasting the dog drool floating on top as she lapped at the water
with her tongue.

Prince gave her a few seconds during which she barely quenched her thirst before he
pushed her away.  Approaching from the front this time, he rested his paws on her
shoulders and wags his swollen, red dick in front of her face.  The bitch knew what was
expected, and carefully lowered her mouth over it.  Rather than a rapid face-fuck,
Prince wanted a leisurely suck, so with the slave attached to his groin, he lowered
himself to the ground, laying on his side and relaxing while she continued her work.

Sucking off a dog wasn't much different than doing it to a man, the slave realized.  It
smells and tastes a bit different - she could still taste her own residue on it - and it was
a lot skinnier, but other than that, a cock was a cock.  She didn't understand that she'd
just made another major step towards complete submission.  She lay there on her side,
head resting on the inside of Prince's haunches, slowly bobbing her head up and down,
massaging her new Master with her tongue.  She could feel him relax as she sucked
gently, listening to his breathing much as she'd done with her first Master.  It seemed so
long ago that she'd served him, but it was only that very morning, she realized.  So
much had happened since the last time he left her with cum running out of her holes,
just the night before last.  She languished in the thought of serving a man again,
understanding that first she needed to serve her penance here in the kennels.  Perhaps
it wouldn't be so bad, she mused; her Master, Prince, certainly knew how to make a girl
happy!

That was when she decided it was time to pay her Master back for giving her such a
wonderful cum.  Tightening her lips around his cock, she increased the suction and
began licking her tongue around its sensitive head.  Prince awakened, aware of what
was going on, but deciding to let the bitch to all the work this time.  He'd been through
this before, and if a dog could smile, he was doing it right now.  The bitch knew what
she was doing, he realized, and he quickly spurted another, smaller load of dog semen
down her throat.  He then relaxed once more, falling asleep as the bitch gently cleaned
him, not waking up until he heard the kennel entry door slam, announcing it was dinner
time.

Dinner in the kennels was very much the same food as the kibble the slaves were fed,
only now there was more of it.  Of course, each bowl fed not only a slave, but her
Master as well.  Prince's bitch took her cue from the girl across the aisle, kneeling
patiently while Prince had his fill, eating the choicest, softest morsels and bits of real
meat, leaving behind nothing but the hard nuggets.  Once Prince was done, he stepped
back and nudged his bitch to the bowl.  She crawled forward and lowered her head,
simply eating without thought, neither noticing nor caring that Prince's saliva coated
most of the hard clumps.  He left her very little, maybe a half cup, but it would have to
do.  She carefully licked the inside of the bowl, making sure she'd completely eaten
every possible bit of the food.  By the time she was done, Prince was curled up again,
sleeping soundly.  While the bitch's belly - and her whole body, for that matter - ached,
she tried doing the same thing.  Finding it impossible to get comfortable on the cold
concrete floor, she eventually snuggled up next to her Master, resting her head on his
warm belly.  Prince awoke at her touch, opened one eye, and then returned to sleep,
satisfied that the bitch was now truly his.

Prince fucked his bitch twice more that night, once in her cunt and later in her ass,
finishing off both times with a nice suck.  He didn't give his bitch any more satisfaction
that night, though; she needed to understand that she might be a different breed, but
his needs and desires came first.

The next ten days were more of the same, Prince fucking his bitch every few hours,
allowing her to share his food when he was full, watching her squat to pee or shit, and
pissing on her himself at least once a day.  Her entire body was a mass of scrapes and
scratches by the time she was taken from the kennels, unbathed, smelling of the dog
cum that had dried in and on her body.  After a harsh scrubbing with stiff brushes and a
disinfectant wash inside and out, the slave was taken back to her new Master - the one
whose cock she'd bit.

"I heard you had a fun time in the kennels, bitch," he spat.  "Don't even think your
punishment is over, though.  You're getting a new name: toilet."

Completely broken, the battered, scraped and sore girl simply sobbed, then fell silent
on the floor as blackness washed over her.

8:  Toilet

When the slave finally awoke, she found herself on a cold tile floor, chained to the wall. 
She shook her head as best as she could in an attempt to clear the cobwebs fogging
her mind, her vision slowly returning.  She looked around, silently taking stock of her
surroundings.

She realized she was in a large restroom, positioned between two porcelain urinals, her
hands bound behind her and her collar secured to the wall.  In this position, her face
was right at the level of the urinals on either side of her, the chains on her collar
allowing her only a tiny bit of movement.  She recognized the men's room itself; it was
in the lounge used by staff, a location where private and public parties were often
hosted.  She'd cleaned it several times in her first couple of weeks, as part of her daily
chores.  When she'd been cleaning it, she'd noticed some of the urinals seemed to be
mounted rather far apart, with metal rings in the walls between them.  Now she knew
why; it was to one of these rings that her collar was attached.  With a shudder of horror,
she also recalled that there were two toilet stalls that had contained no commodes,
either.

It was still late afternoon.  The lounge was empty at the moment, except for the few
slaves and staff who were getting things ready for the night's activities.  Tonight would
be a special occasion; Japan was considering implementing laws similar to those here,
and several dignitaries - along with their rather large official entourage - would be in
attendance.  Toilet was unaware of both the time and the evening's planned events. 
She simply knelt there, resting as best as she could.

It was several hours later when toilet heard the pneumatics on the door open with a
swish; she began to turn her head towards the noise, then stopped and simply lowered
her eyes, focusing on the porcelain tiles directly in front of her knees.  A pair of polished
black wingtips topped by grey pinstripe trousers came into her field of view.

"I see you have a new urinal, Bob," the voice attached to the wingtips said.

"Yeah, she just got here today.  Punishment, I heard.  Apparently she bit one of the
Trainers while he was throat-fucking her."

"And they let her keep her teeth?  You know, Bob, this place really is getting soft," he
said as he unzipped and pulled his dick out.  "Open," he said, redirecting his voice
towards the kneeling girl. 

Toilet tilted her head back and opened her mouth widely, waiting with her eyes closed
for the expected blast of piss to hit the back of her throat.

"Open your eyes, slave!" the second man commanded.  "Whenever a man gives you
his piss, you will focus your eyes on his cock!"  

Toilet opened her eyes and stared at the dick being held in front of her face.  Fat but
short, she catalogued instinctively, but no telling how long it might get when hard. 
Circumcised.  She watched intently as the opening at the tip opened slightly and a
stream of urine began to flow into her mouth.  He used her mouth like one would use a
toilet, quite appropriately, never bringing his dick close to her lips but simply aiming his
pee between them.  He watched as her mouth filled up with the foamy yellow liquid.

"You may swallow," he said when he was finished, shaking the last few drops off onto
her face, one striking her directly in her eye and causing an intensely painful burning
sensation.  Toilet closed her mouth and grimaced as she swallowed the horrible liquid
down, feeling queasy as it hit her empty stomach.

"Do you know the rules for piss-drinking?" the second man asked the slave once his
friend had zipped up.

"Master, no, Master," she replied, resuming her focused-on-the-floor eye positioning
while she worked her tongue around the inside of her mouth.

"If a man uses you like Bob did, you simply let him fill your mouth.  If it overflows, too
bad.  You wait until he's finished, then you can swallow.  If anything gets on the floor,
you lick that up when he's done with you.  If a man puts his dick in your mouth and
pees, you swallow while he's peeing.  When he's done, you keep sucking and licking
like you're giving a blow job until he pulls out of your mouth.  If he wants to cum in you,
that's his option.  Understand?"

"Master, yes, Master."

"Good.  Let's see if you can manage the second method, then."  

He stepped between toilet's spread knees and kicked them further apart before
unsnapping his trousers.  She saw that this one wasn't circumcised; she'd only seen
one of those from photographs and had never had one in her mouth before.  She
thought it looked a bit scary, maybe even evil, but she opened her mouth dutifully and
waited while he slipped it between her lips.

"Now close your mouth and make a nice, tight seal," he told her.  "If I feel so much as a
tiny scrape, I'll yank out all your teeth myself, and be damned what the book on you
says."

Toiled did as she was told, waiting with trepidation as she felt his abdominal muscles
strain slightly to being the flow of piss.  Her face was pressed tightly into his belly; the
fact that his cock wasn't hard was the only thing making this possible, though.  She
could feel the pointed tip touching a point just shy of her throat. 

Unlike the first time, this one's piss started as a trickle and built up to a strong stream
that splashed against her throat before it started to subside again.  Toilet swallowed as
quickly as she could, feeling the cock in her mouth get longer and stiffer every time her
throat moved.  Finally, he was done and she swallowed the last bit of acrid fluid.  He
didn't pull out, though, and his intent was made very clear when he grabbed the back of
toilet's head and forced it onto his crotch.  Unable to breathe at first, toilet began to
panic.  There wasn't anything she could do, however; she was quite immobilized, with
her hands behind her back and his strength overpowering her ability to pull away.  

"Breathe through your nose!" he yelled several times, boxing her once on the side of the
head to get her attention.  "Use your nose to breathe, otherwise you'll suffocate.  I'm not
pulling out until I cum!" he told her.

Toilet found that she was able to overcome both her panic and gag reflex only with the
most intense concentration.  At first, every time she thought to breathe through her
nostrils she began to gag, and when she concentrated on not gagging, she couldn't
breathe.  By blocking everything else out, she realized, she could do both at once.  The
man's dick was long but not very thick, and her throat was able to eventually
accommodate him quite easily.  Toilet began to calm down, her breathing becoming
more regular as her user kept up his hip thrusts, plunging himself deeply into her throat. 
It took all her concentration, but the slave was finally able to put her own fears and
discomfort aside, and began working her tongue around the cock in her mouth.

It felt different, she thought, but similar.  Different in that the head had a different shape,
almost pointed instead of being formed like a mushroom.  It tasted a bit different, too.  A
little saltier, sweatier.  Maybe that was because of the foreskin, or maybe it was just the
residue of piss still stinging her taste buds.  Similar because...well, because it was a
penis.  The shaft still felt the same, the veins bulging the same way, even the same
slight twitch when she ran her tongue under it.  The way it suddenly hardened even
more, just before climax.  She recognized the precursor to a man's cum being shot
down her gullet and began sucking even harder.  He pulled out slightly, leaving the
head of his dick in her mouth rather than imbedded in her throat, coating her mouth with
the sticky white fluid.  Yes, she thought...it even tastes similar.  She knew now that the
taste of cum often changed from person to person, but whether circumcised or not, it
was basically the same.

"Fair," the man said, pulling out completely and wiping his wet tool off on her face.  "A
friendly word of advice, though.  You need to be able to take a cock down your throat
without panicking.  I was being gentle with you, the next man might not.  Learn quickly."

"Master, yes, Master," toilet gasped, still trying to catch her breath. She thought to
herself that if this was gentle, she'd hate to see what was considered rough!

Toilet was left alone to her own thoughts then, during which she reflected on what had
just happened.  At first, it had taken all her concentration to simply breathe with a cock
in her throat, but after she learned how to do that, she'd used her tongue without even
thinking about how to breathe.  She had to begin doing that from the start, she realized. 
That man was probably right, too, she mused.  While he seemed pretty rough at the
time, she was certain it could have been much, much worse.

She also reflected on how far she'd come since arriving at the Center, not even
momentarily thinking back to her carefree life before slavery.  That was another person,
not the naked slave now kneeling chained to a restroom wall, waiting in silence for her
mouth to be used as a urinal for anyone passing through.  She thought back to how
she'd failed her first Master, how gentle he was with her when she was unable to deep
throat him.  He deserved better, she realized, sobbing quietly, tears running down her
cheeks now.  If she ever saw him again, she'd beg forgiveness.  And the man who she
bit...oh, God, how she wanted to apologize, to offer him anything in penance.  She
deserved to have her teeth pulled out, just like those other men were saying.  She was
a stupid, worthless cunt, not worth the effort to train.  They should just kill her, fuck her
to death or something, just so someone gets something out of it.  The tears were
flowing freely now, staining her face and dripping to the floor unimpeded.

She stifled a sob when she heard the door open again, keeping her head bowed
submissively while another man walked up to her.  He saw that she was crying, and
reached down to take her chin in his hand.  She allowed him to raise her head to look at
him, and realized it was her first Master.  She wailed in sorrow, unable to stop from
crying now.

"My little fuckbunny, what's wrong?" he asked gently.  "Are you upset that you're being
used as a urinal?  Is that it?"

"M-m-m-master, n-no, M-mas-ter," she forced out between sobs.  "This slave is so a-a-
ashamed, Master."

"Ashamed of what?" he asked in a concerned voice.

"M-master, this slave is ashamed that it couldn't serve you the way it should have,
Master," she replied, the sobbing finally stopped.  He reached down and wiped the
tears from her cheeks.

"I don't understand."

"Master, you deserved a slave who could offer you its throat.  This slave was unable,
because it was afraid and too stupid to obey, Master."

"Is that what you think?  That you're disobedient and stupid?" he asked, bewildered at
this admission.

"Master, yes, Master," she replied, beginning to sob once again.

"No, you're not stupid," he told her, "and you're not disobedient.  I told you that you'd
learn to deep throat eventually, and that it would take time.  Now, you need to
understand that a large part of what you're going to be learning here is that everyone is
different.  Just as you are unique, so are the men who will be using you.  You need to
learn how to pleasure everyone, regardless of their particular likes and dislikes.  Do you
understand that?"

"Master, yes, Master," she answered, the tears stopping again.

"Good.  Well, I didn't come here to take a piss, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going to use
the other facilities here," he said, walking to one of the commodes and shutting the stall
door.  Even with all his years of experience, he didn't particularly care for anyone - even
a slave - watching him shit.

Toilet sat silently, thinking and listening to the sounds of her former Master crapping. 
The room was large enough that there was little odor - nothing like when she was
kneeling between that other Trainer's knees, sucking on his cock while he took a shit -
but she could still hear the little plops of turds hitting the water.  Finally, she heard the
sound of toilet paper being torn, and the toilet flushing.  Her former Master came out of
the stall fastening his trousers and smiled at her on his way to the sink, where he
washed his hands.

"Master?" she asked as he dropped his used paper towel into the trash.

"Yes, fuckbunny?"

"Master, this slave's name is now toilet, Master," she advised, receiving a nod in reply. 
"Master, would you please permit toilet to give you the pleasure it was unable to before,
Master?"

"Toilet...you know, that name doesn't really do you justice...but anyway, I would love to. 
Unfortunately, I can't at the moment.  However, I will take a look at your training
schedule and arrange a time when you can show me what you've learned.  Maybe in a
nicer setting?  Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes, Master...I mean...Master, yes Master!"

"Okay then, it's a date.  I'll make sure you're informed," he told her.

A date, she thought once he left the restroom.  A date?  For a slave?  Not hardly!  It
didn't matter though; she was happier than she'd ever been since...well, probably since
summer vacation last year.  It was then that she realized she'd not thought of her
previous life in days, and even thinking of it didn't bring any sorrow or anguish.  She
truly was finding her rightful place.

The evening went in a blur for toilet.  Smiling, almost gaily, she accepted the urine of
everyone who entered the room, offering each a blow job by carefully lapping at their
cocks after they were done pissing. Even those who pissed from a distance; she would
stick her tongue out and try to lap up the last drops hanging from their pricks, then when
they moved in, she'd latch her lips around the head and start sucking.  

The only strange thing she really noticed was that whenever one of the well-dressed
Japanese men used her, there would be a crowd of his colleagues standing around,
chattering in what was to her and incomprehensible language.  It was almost bizarre,
she thought, the way everyone watched everyone else pee - as if urination was not a
normal act!  What she didn't know was what they were talking about.  She assumed
correctly that it she was the topic of discussion, but didn't realize they were talking
about buying her and taking her back to Japan with them.  Fortunately, the Center was
unequivocal when the purchase offer was made; she was already owned, and they'd
have to deal with her Owner, who was just as unequivocal that his privacy be
maintained.  They would pass the word on, but that was all.

By the time toilet was finally released the next morning, her stomach was so distended
from all the urine and semen she'd consumed that anyone would have thought her
pregnant.  She wasn't, of course, but that much urine was unhealthy.  She was given a
large dose of syrup of ipecac, which caused her to violently vomit the contents of her
stomach into the toilet as she kneeled over it.  After the spasms in her belly subsided,
she was given the opportunity to brush her teeth, which she gladly accepted.  She had
learned to accept - if not enjoy - the taste of piss, but it was nice to get the filth and
grime off her teeth - not to mention the unappetizing flavor of puke.

When she was finished, she noticed she was once again alone in the restroom.  Not
sure what to do, she assumed that she should return to her previous position between
the two urinals.  As she was crawling across the floor, she heard the door open once
again.

"Cum, slut!" she heard a familiar voice demand.  Without hesitation, toilet's hands
immediately flew to her crotch, fingers frigging her immediately drenched cunt as hard
and fast as they could.  While she finger-fucked herself, she saw her Master - the
Master whom she had so disobediently bit - step in front of her.  She looked up at him
with a look of apology on her face, opening her mouth to willingly accept his member. 
He nodded, and in one quick thrust, impaled her throat.  Not missing a beat, toilet
started licking the shaft as he poked in and out, finally spewing his cum down her
throat.  She wasn't even able to taste it, because he had imbedded himself as deeply
as he could, mashing her face into his hairy crotch.  She breathed through her nose,
inhaling her Master's sweaty scent.  Then it was over, and he stepped away.

"You've learned well, toilet."

"Master, thank you, Master.  Master, this slave humbly apologizes for injuring Master
before, Master, and begs to be punished, Master!" she cried softly.

"I think you've been punished enough for now," he replied.  "And as a result of that
wonderful blow job you just gave me, I'm restoring your name.  You are now named
cum-filled fuckbunny once again."

"Master, thank you, Master!" she exclaimed happily, bending down unbidden and
lavishing kisses on his shoes.

"Now, while I'd love to keep you as mine, something has come up.  You and a few of
the other girls will be leaving us for a while, but I don't want you to forget what you've
learned."

"Master, fuckbunny won't forget, Master!" she replied.

9:  Farm Girl

The issue that interrupted fuckbunny's training - and that of virtually every other slave-
in-training in the country - was a national crisis.  The continued population growth had
placed greater need on a rapidly-dwindling natural resource: fertile soil.  Where farms
once covered the land with acres of corn, wheat and other foodstuffs, now stood office
buildings and apartment complexes.  However, thanks to the progress made in
agricultural sciences, less land was now producing more food.  The problem was that of
manpower.  This year, the challenge was exacerbated by exceptionally high production. 
The call went out, and every training facility in the nation was tasked to provide
assistance.

Every means of transportation available was used to move both slaves and migrant
laborers to the sites where their services were needed.  For the latter, this usually
meant air or rail travel; for the former, trucks, busses and cargo vans.  Fuckbunny was
one of the fortunate few, loaded onto a former school bus rather than the back of a
trailer.  At least she had a somewhat comfortable place to sit, cramped though it was
with 90 slaves packed into what had been a 45 passenger bus.   For the purpose of
transport, each slave was given a new numeric identity.  Fuckbunny was now simply
"sixteen."

Shackled and chained to their seats, the ride was slightly over 12 hours; short enough
that meals wouldn't be necessary, but long enough that there might be other issues.  To
this end, each slave was given a thorough enema and then plugged at both ends
before boarding.  Most of the girls barely registered the butt plugs being
unceremoniously shoved up their asses, so common was such a thing.  Most, including
sixteen,  however, had never experienced a urethral plug.  A relatively new modification
of an old invention, a catheter with an inflatable collar was inserted into the urethra so
that the collar was inside the opening.  After the collar was inflated to prevent the
catheter from being easily removed, the end of the tubing was clamped shut.  The only
way the slave could urinate was by either uncapping of the tube or deflation of the
collar, neither of which would occur until after arrival at her destination.

The relative comfort - being able to actually sit on a seat in a normal fashion - quickly
wore off as the bus bounced over unpaved roads, the thin seat padding barely
cushioning the hard metal frames. Sixteen found herself almost wishing that she'd been
placed in one of the cargo vans; at least there, she reasoned, she'd be able to move a
bit so the same parts of her body weren't continually pounded as her ass was against
the seat.  Even the ability to look at the outside world through barred windows did little
to make the ride easier. 

Sixteen silently gave thanks to whatever Power was responsible for their safe arrival at
their destination, a small farming camp in the Imperial Valley.  She sat patiently, shifting
her weight slightly to afford her bruised bottom a bit of relief while the girls in front of her
were slowly released.  She could see the redness on their asses, and knew hers would
look much the same, if not worse.  Finally, it was her turn.  Her leg shackles weren't
removed, just unlocked from the eye bolt in the floor, permitting her to carefully shuffle
down the aisle and off the bus.

The ninety naked girls stood shoulder-to-shoulder while two other slaves began
removing the plugs.  One walked behind, deftly ripping the latex butt plugs out without a
word, while the second moved much more slowly, taking her time to carefully deflate
each catheter before sliding it out.  While a painful ass was a minor problem, a urinary
tract infection could be a much more serious concern, so more attention was paid to
that end.

"Squat and piss if you need to!" hailed a male voice over a loudspeaker.  Sixteen could
barely see him in the periphery of her vision, holding a megaphone.  As one, the entire
line spread their legs as far as the shackles would allow, squatted in a distinctly
unladylike manner, and began urinating.  Sixteen could feel the splatters of piss hitting
her ankles - and not just her own, but that of the girls on either side of her.

"Raise your hand if you have to shit!" he said after all the slaves had finished emptying
their bladders.  This was a need sixteen didn't have at the moment, though several of
the girls did.  The slave that had unplugged their asses carried a single bucket down the
line, stopping at each raised hand, setting the pail down between the signaling slave's
feet and waiting patiently for her to do her business.  Sixteen silently gave thanks that
she didn't have to go at the moment.  She wasn't sure which would have been more
embarrassing - to be made to defecate in such a manner, or to carry the shit-filled
bucket from girl to girl.

It was a two mile walk to the camp, a difficult task given the constraints of the leg
shackles - but something that would have been much harder if they'd been made to
crawl the distance.  By the time they arrived at their destination, most of the slaves bore
minor injuries on their ankles.  In sixteen's case, the heavy metal rings had bounced off
the tops of her feet with every step, leaving painful bruising but no significant damage. 
It caused her to wince slightly with every step, but nothing more.

Upon arrival at Farm Camp Delta, as it was officially known, the slaves were freed of
their restraints.  They hadn't really been necessary at all, sixteen realized, and were
simply symbolic anyway.  There wasn't anywhere a slave could go where she couldn't
be found; the tracking chip took care of that.  After being given a few moments to rest
and the opportunity for a drink of water, the girls were issued clothing and new names.

The clothing, while it really couldn't be called that, consisted of nothing more than an
old burlap sack with three holes cut in it - one for the head and two for the arms - and a
pair of flat sandals cut from old vehicle tires.  Sixteen's "dress" extended just below the
splay of her thighs, but it wasn't designed with modesty in mind.  It had a more practical
purpose, as did the uncomfortable sandals. The slaves would be spending considerable
time outside in the hot sun, working in the fields.  The only purpose for any attire at all
was protection from heat or foot injuries.  During the heat of the day, the burlap could
be soaked with water, providing the slave with a bit of coolness and preventing heat
stroke.  

Stenciled on the front and back of the sack was sixteen's new name: She was now
known as radish.  In keeping with the agricultural climate, all of the girls were named for
crops: turnip, potato, corn, yam, bean, and the like.  At least the names weren't
degrading for a change, she thought, though by now she thought there wasn't much
that she'd consider degrading.  Most of the time she wouldn't be called by her name,
though.  The workers preferred using their own: cunt, bitch, slut, or most usually, puta.

While the other girls were being issued her clothing, radish used a few moments to take
stock of her new surroundings.  In addition to the slaves, roughly two hundred migrant
workers - mostly Mexican and Central American, but a few Canadians and even small
group of young men working off a community service sentence for some minor crime. 
Counting the overseers, the population of the camp was just over three hundred. 
Several fairly large, squat modular buildings which appeared to have been recently
installed - tractor tire imprints were still visible in the soil - were used to house this
group.  Separated slightly from this were two other modulars fitted together to form a T. 
The smaller unit forming the top of the T was the kitchen, the larger horizontal leg the
dining room.   Other buildings appeared to be offices, and a medical clinic.  Centrally
located within the triangle created by these structures was a dilapidated barn-like
building - the slave quarters.

Once the issue of clothing and names had been completed, the slaves were led inside
their new home.  It was spacious, more than enough room for 90 girls, but radish also
noticed there were large gaps in the siding and numerous holes in the roof.  It wouldn't
be much protection should a storm hit, but perhaps by finding a few good spots, the
girls could stay dry on the dirt floor. The building, though it hadn't been used to house
farm animals for several years, still had a hint of cow smell.

Work didn't begin in earnest until the following morning, though several of the slaves
were pulled from the group to prepare the evening meal.  Radish was not among these,
so she simply found a fairly soft spot on the barn floor to lay down on, and using her
balled-up burlap dress as a pillow, fell asleep.  Most of the other girls soon followed suit
and took the opportunity for a short nap, though a few sat against a wall, quietly
chatting among themselves.  Speaking among the slaves was permitted here, though
only in the barn and when necessary during the course of work.

Radish awoke from her nap to the sound of a voice announcing dinnertime.  The camp
rules, which had been read to them upon arrival, forbade the wearing of any clothing
inside the camp.  The burlap sacks were only for use in the fields, so radish left hers
balled up on the floor, marking her relatively comfortable sleeping place.  The slaves
lined up outside the barn doorway - the door was long gone - and once a quick
headcount was completed, were led into the dining room.

Slave and employee alike ate in the same facility, albeit in quite different manners. 
Tables and chairs for the hired workers, platters piled high with steaming slices of roast
beef and butter-smothered hot vegetables, pitchers of ice water and tea to quench their
thirst.  This was not for the slaves, however, unless someone deigned to slip one a
morsel of food.  No, the slaves were provided with places on the floor, a naked girl
kneeling between every other chair to ensure every migrant worker had a slave on one
side or the other.  Plastic bowls filled with the so-familiar cold slave gruel marked each
slave's place on the floor.  The girls were virtually ignored as they ate like animals,
hands clasped behind their hands, only the occasional crude joke or obscene comment
interrupting their unfulfilling meal.  Radish was one of the fortunate few; one of the
Hispanic men she kneeled between seemed to take a liking to her, and thought it was
amusing to see how her eyes would look at him adoringly as he hand-fed her scraps of
fatty meat and bits of half-eaten vegetables.  It wasn't sufficient to fill her belly, but it
was enough for her to remember his face and promise herself to be especially pleasing
if he decided to use her at some point in the future.  That opportunity would come
sooner than she expected.

Finished with her small meal, radish knelt patiently between the two chairs, perhaps
spreading her knees just a bit further apart and thrusting her breast out slightly more, in
an effort to thank her benefactor for the tasty morsels of food.  Her efforts did not go
unnoticed; as he got up from the table, he took a bit of nylon cord from his pocket and
tied it to radish's nose ring.

"We go," he said in heavily accented English.  "Vamanos," leading her down the narrow
aisle on her hands and knees, much to the amusement of his fellow harvesters. 
Although she knew pride was something not befitting a slave, radish beamed, knowing
she was the first of her group to be so selected.

Her User - he wasn't a Master, per se - led her outside and across the dusty footpath to
his quarters.  As living accommodations went, they were quite spartan; the room little
more than a cubicle with a door, containing a single bed, a small wall locker for
belongings, and a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.  There were no bathrooms in
the worker's quarters; latrines with toilets and showers were in a building by
themselves.  This was obviously a functional place, a location for sleeping, not for
recreation - except, of course, the type that might take place on a bed.

"You suck," he said, sitting on the edge of his bed, pulling the kneeling girl to a position
between his legs.  He had a wife waiting for him back home, and the thought of being
unfaithful to her was unconscionable.  Like many men, however - including a former
American president - he didn't consider oral sex to be sex at all, but just an expedient
means of relief.

"Yes, Master," radish blushed, lowering her eyes to his crotch.  "Master, may I please
worship your beautiful cock with my mouth, Master?" she asked, reciting the requisite
words dutifully.

"Si," he responded, quickly sliding his dirty work jeans down below to his ankles.

He was uncircumcised, radish saw, and as she moved her face closer, she could smell
the unique odor of sweat and dirt on his body.  Radish leaned forward and carefully
took his throbbing member into her mouth.  She could taste the pre-cum already
seeping from it, even through the taste of crotch sweat and hint of urine.  While many
women might have found the flavor of a sweaty cock unsavory, the knowledge that she
was being made to suck an unwashed dick made radish's cunt begin to drool.  Her
body's sudden response surprised radish; it had been hours since she'd thought of
anything sexual, and having a filthy dick in her mouth was far from what she'd
previously have thought to be an exciting event.  Regardless, she simply put her mind
to her task, slowly sucking and licking her User's penis in order to give him the greatest
amount of pleasure possible.  

"Bueno, bueno," he moaned, grabbing the back of radish's head and forcing her face
firmly into his hairy groin, holding it there while his cum spurted into her mouth.  "Good
puta," he announced after he pulled out, and the brief encounter was over.  While
radish had become somewhat aroused, she was left, as so many times before,
unfulfilled.  Rather than escorting radish back to the barn, he simply led her to the
entrance to his apartment building and told her to go.

It was dark now, and radish still wasn't totally familiar with the compound.  Unsure
whether she was permitted to walk, she crawled slowly, trying to remain in lit areas in
the hopes that someone else might deign to use her, thereby giving her the release she
so desperately needed.  She even took special care to keep her ass lifted as high as
she could, and her knees as widely apart as she could manage, trying to entice anyone
who might be watching.  Her efforts went to no avail, however, and she soon found
herself at the dilapidated barn.  Finding her wadded-up burlap garment still where she
left it, she laid her head down and fell into an exhausted slumber, her dreams filled with
visions of abuse and abasement.

The regular schedule for radish and the other slaves began before dawn, when they
were awakened by loud yelling, punctuated where necessary by a swift kick from one fo
the Overseers.  A quick breakfast of cold gruel, prepared the night before and already
portioned into individual bowls, was served.  For the first time since radish had been
forced into slavery, she was permitted to eat as much as she wanted, within the time
constraints given.  Even the tasteless slop seemed like a gourmet meal; she and the
other girls wolfed it down ravenously, then began their day's toils.  While about a third
of the company was sent to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, the rest were put to work
at other tasks.  The cantina the workers had established for themselves, for example,
needed to be cleaned, as did the showers and toilets.  While most of the girls wielded
scrub brushes, brooms and mops, the rest cooked. . 

By the time these tasks were done, the workers were being served their meals, so it
was time for the slaves to go clean those quarters.  Linens were removed and replaced,
floors swept and mopped, and common areas cleaned until they sparkled.  Dirty
clothing was tagged with the cubicle number and taken out for later cleaning by other
slaves.  By now, the regular workers had finished their breakfasts and were ready to go
to the fields.

The slaves donned their rough burlap garments and sandals and, following the line of 
workers, carried all the tools, water and food necessary for the day's labor.   The
workers carried nothing, walking casually, smoking and chatting among themselves
while the slaves struggled under their awkward loads.  It wasn't a particularly long walk,
just over a mile to the far edge of what hadn't already been harvested, but it was
enough to wear on the already tired slave girls.  Arriving at their work site, the men took
up their tools while the girls were put to work erecting a couple of canvas flies for use as
shade during breaks. Six of the slaves were assigned to water duty, carrying jugs of
cool water to the workers throughout the day.  Radish, however, went with the main
body, to dig potatoes on her hands and knees.  At least they allowed her a small trowel,
she thought thankfully as she began the dirty work of pulling the tubers out of their
resting places.

Although the men were given a 15 minute break each hour, the slaves were permitted
no such luxury and forced to work relentlessly throughout the morning.  Radish
assumed work would be like normal, with a morning and evening meal, so was quite
surprised when the slaves were ordered to halt for lunch.  Even the raw potato each girl
was given seemed like a treat as they each munched quietly.  Radish had just a
momentary flash of jealousy when she saw the men drinking bottles of beer, then
looked down at her own small bowl of water.  Though she'd only tasted beer once in her
young life - and discovered then that she didn't like it anyway - she knew she'd savor
the flavor if permitted so much as a sip.  Just the fact that it was so cold - she could see
the condensation on the bottles - she knew she'd do just about anything for a sip.  Then
reality hit and she quickly slipped back into her proper place; she'd do anything for
anyone, regardless of her own desires or any rewards she might receive, simply
because she was a slave and had no choice.  With that thought, she quickly chewed
the last bit of her raw potato and lapped up her water just in time to be sent back to the
field to continue her labor.

It was early evening before the harvest crew was marched back to the base camp. 
Both slave and worker were exhausted and filthy from the day's work.  Upon return, the
men went straight to the Cantina for some relaxation, while the slaves were sent to
bathe.  Amazingly, the showers were actually warm, and the girls were given real soap
and shampoo to use.  Even the allotted ten minutes under the water seemed like an
eternity, but being provided makeup and some rather skimpy, revealing clothing gave
radish and the other new arrivals an inkling of what lay in store for them.

Radish's outfit for the night consisted of a pale blue translucent neglige with matching
stockings and a lace garter belt, topped off with six inch spiked heels of a slightly darker
shade.  While an Overseer watched, radish applied a thick coat of makeup to her face,
slathering on bright red lipstick to both her mouth and areola at his instructions. 
Looking at herself in the mirror, radish thought she looked idiotic, like some cartoon
caricature of a whore; the Overseer thought that was exactly what she looked like, and
it was almost perfect.

"Paint your cunt lips, too," he told her.  "Use the lipstick, then spray yourself with this."
He handed her a large spritzer of very cheap, smelly perfume.  Radish took the
perfume bottle in her hand, wrinkling her nose at the smell, the set it down while she
spread her legs and ran the end of the lipstick over her labia.  Twice she looked up to
see the Overseer shaking his head; by the third coat, she'd apparently applied enough
because he was nodding.  She picked up the perfume and liberally sprayed her body;
between her breasts and inside her thighs, primarily, trying to avoid her neck and face. 
Even that didn't keep the almost nauseous odor of crushed flowers from causing her to
coughing as he led her out to the Cantina.  There was a reason for the overpowering
scent; although the slaves were all bathed and clean, the men went directly from the
fields to the club; they would shower either before bed or in the morning, as they
wished.

The little club the workers had built for themselves was crowded, noisy and smoke-
filled.  The hard-packed dirt floor was strewn with rough-hewn tables and benches,
some commercially manufactured and others simply pieces of plywood and two-by-
fours.  The back wall was taken up by a bar, upon which mugs upon mugs of beer were
waiting.  Radish's co-workers scurried back and forth, carrying full mugs from the bar
and returning empties as fast as they could.  Along one side wall rested a pile of old,
stained and well-used mattresses; these were seldom used, though, as evidenced by
the two girls currently laying on their backs, getting violently fucked in the dirt.  The
other wall contained a small alcove, in which a set of currently unoccupied stocks
rested.  They wouldn't stay that way for long.

Radish was put to work carrying mugs of draft around the room, a never-ending task
given the beer was provided gratis as part of the workers' benefits.  As she teetered
across the hard dirt floor in the unfamiliar heels, hands reached out to molest her,
pinching, squeezing and slapping her most sensitive places.  When one hand reached
up and tugged on her labia rings, she lost her balance and dumped an entire tray of
beers on the ground.  A cheer arose at the realization of what had happened, and what
was about to happen.

Radish was grabbed from behind and taken to the stocks, where she was quickly
secured.  Unlike most medieval devices of a similar nature, this one forced Radish to
her knees, which were then widely spread and then secured with cold metal bands. 
Her tits stuck out from under the two wooden planks imprisoning her neck and wrists,
and made perfect targets for slaps, pinches and the occasional squeeze.  More metal
bands, placed around the base of her tits and tightened, made them stick out even
more lewdly, eventually turning them into firm purple melons.  The girl, unable to move,
simply kneeled there, watching the goings-on and assuming this was her punishment
for spilling the beer.

That believe came to a quick end, though, when the first man stepped up in front of her
and unzipped his pants.  Once again, Radish understood, she was to become a toilet. 
Every few minutes someone else came up to relieve himself into the bound slave's
mouth, until about an hour later, another slave who had stepped on someone's foot was
brought to replace her.  Taken off the platform, Radish was handed a beer.  She took a
large mouthful and swished it around in her mouth before swallowing, trying to get rid of
the piss taste.  Unfortunately for her, she found beer didn't taste much better.

The rest of the evening was much the same, simply serving beers and bussing tables,
looking on with jealously as other slaves were whisked to the floor, there to be taken
violently and abusively until their Users were through with them.  One girl - she couldn't
have been thirteen - was repeatedly gang-raped until she was literally unconscious,
semen dripping out of her swollen gash and flowing from her nostrils.  Through it all,
though, nobody deigned to take Radish for even a quick suck, and at the end of the
night she was sent back to her quarters aroused but unable to do anything about it.

The rest of the month went by in a similar fashion, the girls averaging four to six hours
of free time per night.  After being taken back to their quarters, smelly and cum-filled,
the girls were given time to rest before being awakened for their next day's chores.  Eat
breakfast, cook, clean, march to the fields, work all day, come back and bathe, serve
the men, and return to the barn.  

The weekends were little different, in that the men were off, but the girls were still sent
to work in the fields.  Most of them, anyway.  A few, handpicked by the workers, would
remain behind to be shared among them after the housekeeping was done.  Radish
was picked three times, and enjoyed the thorough gang-bangs that followed.  By the
time the picking season was done and the slaves were ready to be bussed back to their
homes, Radish's muscle tone was even more pronounced by the dark tan she had from
working in the fields, and she had an new appreciation for things like warm food, cold
water and a soft bed.

A New World
10:  Most Likely to Suck Seed

After her return to the Training Center, the slave's life returned to relative normality. 
Although her name was still changed regularly - from radish to dildo, stupid, baldy, clit,
ass fuck, juicy and finally stinky - but for the ease of reading the story, she will revert to
her original slave name, "toe."  

Toe and the rest of the farm shipment were found to be in need of retraining upon their
return, and so were remanded back to the dank slave quarters, there to be kept in small
cages, unbathed except for their morning wake-up with the fire hose.  Put back on labor
details, there was little time for either rest or schooling for the next month, as the slaves
relearned their true place in society by shining boots, cleaning toilets, scrubbing floors
and, tongue-bathing each other after use,   Toe continued to excel in her duties, moving
on to the next phase of her training a full two weeks before expected.

It was now necessary for toe to be able to concentrate on what she was being taught,
and to this end, she was moved into a relatively comfortable dorm with 23 other girls. 
Well-ventilated, with a climate control system that maintained a comfortable
environment, each girl also had her own straw mattress and a blanket to help ensure a
good night's sleep.  This was important, as they seldom had as much as six hours per
day for this purpose.  Fatigue was still a constant companion, as was hunger.  Although
privileged to reside in a comfortable dorm, the food was the same bland gruel as
before, always cold and always too little to stave off hunger completely.

The lack of what most would consider a proper diet - although it was nutritious and
chemically balanced, with sufficient calories - was exacerbated by the fact that the
emphasis of toe's education at that point was on the culinary arts.  She spent hours
upon hours slaving over hot stoves and ovens, learning how to prepare simple
foods and sumptuous delicacies ranging from oatmeal to souffles, basic breads to
exquisite pastries, fried hamburgers to roast of prime rib - without ever being given the
opportunity to taste a single one of her creations.  Her belly rumbled, often cramping in
pain, as she served the foods she so carefully cooked, hoping each serving was
acceptable, thereby forgoing the standard punishment of a missed meal.

While these cooking sessions were torture for toe, they were by no means the worst of
her classes.  By far, that recognition was reserved for what was officially called "Kegel
Class."  Designed to tighten the slaves' cunt muscles, it was an exercise in both futility
and agony.  Each day for an hour, the slaves would spent their time squatting over
bottle-shaped containers of various sizes and weights, each with a bottom made of a
hard edible membrane as fragile as Christmas ornaments.  The slightest tap would
cause them to shatter.  The goal was to squat over the container, clench the bottle neck
with the vaginal muscles, and stand upright without allowing it to drop.  To make it more
difficult, the weight of the bottles increased as the period went on; the feat was made
almost impossible after the first half hour, during which time each slave's cunt had
juiced up to the point that any container would almost certainly slip before she had a
chance to stand.

Simply shattering the bottle wasn't the worst of it, however, for each container was filled
with any of a variety of substances - urine, hot sauce, soured milk, sometimes even
used douche or enema water.  On rare occasions, a slave might find herself with a
puddle of semen, but regardless what the substance was, she was expected to lick
every drop up.  Some of the slaves would break as many as six bottles in a single
session; toe's record was four, and twice she made it through the entire hour without
one dropping, though her legs were trembling from the exertion.

Other classes were also mandatory, including the dreaded two hours a day in the gym. 
Although toe's muscle tone was fine, her Owner indicated he wanted superb leg
strength and cardiovascular endurance, so she spent most of her time on the treadmill,
bicycle and leg machines.  Each machine provided its own sadistic torture.  When on
the treadmill, clips were attached to toe's nipple rings; if she failed to keep up with the
machine's pre-set speed or if it registered a stumble or fault of any sort, a painful jolt of
electricity would course through her.  The leg machines provided a different torture;
when at rest, a large dildo covered with metal bumps was fully imbedded in her cunt. As
she flexed her muscles and raised the weight stack, the dildo would be extracted. 
When she lowered the weight stack, it would again penetrate her.   Painful in itself, a
pause of greater than two seconds between repetitions would cause a capacitor to
discharge, inflicting excruciating pain to her most sensitive flesh and nearly always
eliciting a blood-curdling scream from the victim.

But toe still hated the stationary bicycle, with it's twin vibrating phalli, most of all.  With
the required speed and difficulty changing constantly, it was impossible to avoid the
painful pleasure of an unauthorized orgasm.  Whenever she was able to maintain the
required speed, the devices simply hummed quietly inside her, barely noticeable.  Go
even a mile an hour above or below the pace, and they began to shake like an out-of-
balance washing machine, eventually fucking in and out as the sensors imbedded in
the seat sensed moisture from her always-leaking cunt.  As usual, the problem was
made more acute due to the fact that there was no indication what speed the victim was
going, nor what speed was expected.  The difficulty and required pace simply changed
at random, and many times toe found herself pedaling harder and harder in an attempt
to alleviate the orgasm-inducing vibrations, when in fact she really needed to slow down
to stop them.  Invariably, she had at least one unauthorized orgasm, which was duly
noted and later punished.

Four nights each week, after dinner, toe was permitted to shower and make herself
sexually appealing - not that she already wasn't, but it's amazing what a little makeup
and the proper alluring clothing can do.  Those nights, she was made available to any
member of the public with a few dollars and the desire to drive several hours for an
exquisite piece of ass, all of whom expected exactly that - an exquisite fuck at a bargain
price.

Toe did her best to please her nightly Users, often but no always succeeding.  Inwardly,
she suspected most of those who claimed to not be pleased with her were simply lying;
she was always obediently submissive and cheerful, performing whatever task and
accepting whatever debasement was demanded of her.  Unlike before, at the farm
where she was simply a hole to be used, now more was required of her.  She was
expected to be the perfect sex toy, to give absolute pleasure along with total obedience. 
It didn't matter whether a man wanted a quick blow job, an ass fuck or a tongue bath,
she did whatever was demanded without hesitation, always trying to prolong her User's
pleasure and provide him with the finest orgasmic experience this side of heaven.  She
was, in short, the perfect sex slave.

Then, one morning right after breakfast, she was given news that shattered her nearly
as much as the judge's sentence.  Among the other slaves, it had been noticed, she'd
been perceived as haughty and above their station.  Although she was owned property
just as they, she was found to be looking down on them as not as good; she was
displaying signs of pride.  When questioned, she freely admitted her wrongdoing; she
was unable to lie to her Masters, even when her very life was at stake.

As punishment, the Hearing Board decided, she would be leased to a pimp, who would
use her as a simple whore for an unspecified time of at least a month.  After thirty days,
she would be brought back for reevaluation, and if she seemed sincere enough, she
would resume training.  Resigned to the sentence imposed by her betters, she sobbed
quietly as her pimp led her by the leash, once again crawling - her privilege of walking
upright had been revoked - to his waiting car.  He hadn't even driven off the campus
before he pulled over and demanded a sample of what he'd just purchased.

"Leave it there," he said after pulling out of her cunt and spewing his cum on her belly. 
"I like the look.  Cum and cunt slime is what it is.  Yes...that's your new name...cunt
slime."  And so it was.

The next ten days were a blur for cunt slime.  She was locked in a tiny room with no
ventilation at all, the only furniture being an old, creaky spring frame bed.  At least the
mattress was thick and comfortable, she thought, if a bit saggy.  There was a stack of
clean sheets in the corner, and a stack of towels next to them.  For three entire days
she remained chained to that bed, not permitted to bathe or even given an opportunity
to pee.  She often wet herself, much to the displeasure of some customers and the
amusement of others.  Her days were a succession of men climbing on top of her, or
kneeling behind her, or using her mouth, followed by a quick change of the sheets
before the next customer arrived. The towels were for the customers, not her, and both
her cunt and ass were soon a sloppy mess.  In just three days, she was visited by 104
men, well above the 30 per day average her pimp expected. Other than the discomfort
of near constant use, her only regret was that she'd been so exquisitely trained in
providing sexual pleasure, but she wasn't being afforded the opportunity to exercise
those skills.  Quite simply, she was nothing more than a convenient hole, a cum
receptacle, chained to a piss-stained mattress.  Cunt slime would soon find out there
were worse things to be.

"Get cleaned up quick, bitch," the pimp told her.  "Your real work is going to start
tonight, and you're costing me money.  So far, you've been on vacation."

Cunt slime quickly understood what her pimp mean when she was returned to the
room.  Her arms and legs were stretched out painfully, chained to the corners of the
bed.  When the door opened, she craned her neck to see a line of men waiting to use
her.  Each had been given a fifteen minute session during which they could do anything
they wanted short of permanent physical damage.  Cunt slime simply moaned in
anticipated agony when the pimp told her he had three hundred men currently on her
schedule.  Five days of constant abuse, four men every hour, around the clock. 
Although already exhausted from her 72 hour marathon fuck, she was not permitted to
sleep.  Falling asleep, or even failing to thrust her hips or moan at the appropriate time,
was enough to result in a slap across her face, a painful tug on one of her rings, or
having a pin stuck in a nipple, her cunt, or the inside of a thigh.  During this entire time,
she remained stretched out, completely vulnerable and unable to do anything to fend
for herself.  The only moisture or nourishment she received was when the men had her
clean their cocks off after fucking her, or when one would decide to relieve his bladder
in her mouth.

When toe was finally released from her bonds at the end of the ninth day, she was
completely beaten.  Exhausted and barely able to roll over, she fell immediately asleep,
the filth she was laying in - semen, urine and her own shit - going unnoticed.  Her
dreams were fitful, of being used and abused, of debasing herself before others, of
submitting to all manner of creature - farm and zoo animals, household pets, even
worms and snails.  What remained of her psyche was being replaced with that of a true
slave, one who understood that even the dirt she wallowed in was better than she.

The pimp allowed her to remain unconscious for 14 hours, watching her muscles twitch
and her eyes show the end of R.E.M. state before waking her.  After a cold bottle of
water which she quickly gulped down, she was led to the bathroom, where her pimp
quickly rinsed her filth-covered body with warm water before placing her in a deep, hot
bath.  He allowed the dried-on remains of her marathon rape to soak before using a soft
sponge to carefully scrub her clean.  After two such shower/bath sessions, interrupted
with a series of enemas and douches between, he was satisfied.  Her body still showed
bruises and hand prints, but those could easily be covered with makeup.  That would be
taken care of later, though.  She needed to get ready for her next appointment.

"Put this on," her pimp ordered after drying her off.  He shoved a red mini dress at her. 
It barely covered her ass; not even that, since the bottom half of her cheeks were
clearly visible when she walked; and the plunging neckline did little to cover her breasts. 
She knew the dress was designed to expose more than it covered, and to titillate and
excite those who saw her wearing it.  She knew better than to ask where they were
going when the pimp snapped a leash to her nose ring.  She sat in silence, hands
folded on her lap, while he drove.  The droning of the engine and the sound of tires on
pavement lulled the still-exhausted slave to sleep.  They continued to drive for hours,
during which cunt slime snored quietly, her body responding to its recent abuses the
best way it knew how.  Finally the car stopped, and someone opened the door.

"Hello, Sheri...or should I say 'cunt slime.'  Remember me?" a voice which seemed to
come from the deep recesses of her mind said.

The slave looked up to see a young teenager, about her own age, standing over her
with a huge grin on her face.  It took a moment for the face to register in her
disoriented, sleep-filled  mind.

"Kathy?" she asked in a slurred, drowsy voice.  Her answer was rewarded with a cuff to
the side of her head.

"That's what you used to call me, but you're a slave and I'm not.  You're called cunt
slime now, and what is my name to you?"

"Uh...Miss, this slave is to call you 'Miss.'"

"See, I always knew you were smart...for a stupid cunt, that is."

"Do you know what time of the year it is, cunt slime?" her former classmate asked.

"Uh...Miss, no, Miss," the slave replied, confused.

"Prom, you stupid twit.  You remember prom, don't you?  You told me you were going to
be prom princess, do you remember that?  You said when you won the election as
prom princess, you were going to use me as your footstool.  I guess that's not going to
happen, is it?"

The venom with which Kathy spat the words out brought back distant memories of their
constant competition as school girls.  The two had never been friends; in fact, they'd
been about as close to being enemies as two classmates could.   They were always
competing against each other.  They fought over boyfriends twice, each coming out the
winner once; both boys soon found other toys, however, as neither girl was willing to put
out.  Academically, they were always first and second in the class, the exact order
changing almost weekly.  Kathy was head cheerleader, but Sheri beat her out for
student council.  Kathy captained the volleyball team, and Sheri was the track standout
who received more local publicity. They were more than competitors, though, because
each took great pleasure whenever she beat the other at something.  Perverse
pleasure, in fact.  Only now, there was no competition.  Sheri was no longer; in her
place was a nearly naked, trembling slave.

"Anyway, let me explain the real reason you were brought here.  You know what prom
night is like, the boys getting all hot and randy, right?  Well, a bunch of us girls decided
we didn't want to put out, so guess what?  We rented YOU for that!" she squealed. 
"You're going to be the one who gets to take care of any boy who gets too horny for his
girlfriend, or for that matter, any boy who simply wants to get his rocks off!  Maybe
some of the girls, too!  We've even given you a special award...we voted you "Most
likely to succeed!"

"Uh...Miss, this slave doesn't understand, Miss.  Most likely to succeed?" cunt slime
asked, totally confused now.

"No, you stupid ...not succeed, most likely to suck seed.  Two words.  Suck seed.  Get
it?" she laughed heartily.  "The former Sheri Brown, now know as cunt slime, most likely
in the class to suck seed!  But that's a given, isn't it?  We've all seen pictures of you
sucking; see, they're right here in the yearbook!"  She held the graduating class's
yearbook open and displayed the two-page spread to the horrified slave.  It showed
what would have been her school portrait, followed by a collage of what she had
become; being led out on her knees to the cuntmobile, drinking piss in the men's
restroom, being fucked by Prince.  "You're nothing but a slave now, so sucking seed is
just part of your life, just like getting those other two holes of yours filled with dick. 
You're nothing just three holes waiting to be used by anyone who wants some quick
relief.  I can't even believe I actually competed against you!  You're just a slut and a
whore, destined to spend her life on her knees," the teenager said with disgust, taking
the opportunity to lay another backhand on the side of the slave's head.  She leaned
down and whispered into the slave's ear, "And you'd better remember exactly what you
are.  If there's a single complaint about you from anyone - anyone at all, for any reason
- I'll whip the flesh right off of those saggy, ringed tits of yours."

"Miss, yes, Miss," the slave replied, weeping softly. 

"We need to get you made up, first, though.  Come with me," she said, hooking a finger
through the naked girl's nose ring.

They were already at the hotel where the prom was going to be held, cunt slime
realized with a start.  Kathy led her to her room, where she positioned the slave at a
small vanity.  Cunt slime saw that several photos from her school days were taped to
the mirror.

"We decided the boys would prefer you looking as much like the old Sheri as possible,"
Kathy explained.  "Of course, that won't be completely possible, since I don't recall
seeing you with your current jewelry," she said, flicking the nose ring with a finger,
allowing drop painfully against cunt slime's upper lip.  "But I think we can manage. Just
sit there, don't move, and keep that stupid fuck hole you call a mouth shut," she
commanded.

The next 90 minutes were spent slowly applying makeup to cunt slime's body, primarily
her face, in an attempt to make her look as much like her old self as possible.  It wasn't
all that easy, as she seldom used makeup in her former life, and her face now bore very
little resemblance to her appearance back then.  The lack of food had given her
features an almost harsh, angled appearance; the fat was gone, replaced with
something more on the gaunt side.  After a week of constant fucking, her eyes were
sunken and red from exhaustion.  Her eyebrows were gone, too, but replacements were
painstakingly positioned and glued on.  Finally, a brunette wig - almost, but not quite the
same shade as her hair had been - was placed on her recently shaved crown, held in
place with spirit gum.  Cunt slime looked in the mirror and could recognize herself for
the first time in months.  Her eyes welled up with tears as she recalled the carefree
days of her pampered life, when she could expect a full belly and a comfortable night's
sleep in a warm, soft bed.  Now it was enough to simply be permitted a few hours sleep,
and maybe a scrap of food.  Kathy smiled as she saw the slave stifle a sob.

"Don't you dare mess up that mascara, slave!" she spat, emphasizing the last word.

"Miss, yes, Miss," cunt slime answered dutifully. 

"Now, let's get you dressed...or should I say undressed, she said, holding up a set of
plain leather restraints."

- Later that evening -

The prom was in full swing, the band playing and alcohol - which no longer had an age
restriction - flowing freely.  Couples were dancing under the not-too-watchful eyes of the
teachers acting as chaperones; others were sitting against the darkly lit walls, necking
and otherwise making out.  Finally, after completing their last number before a break,
the band stopped.  The drummer let out a long, loud drum roll while Kathy came up to
the stage.  She was chairman of the prom committee, and received a loud ovation.

"Thank you, thank you, all!" she said gaily.  "I hope you're having a great time tonight!" 
Another cheer sounded from the audience.  "We do have a special treat for
you...something most unexpected."  She waited while a hush fell over the room.

"I'm sure most of you remember Sheri Brown?  She used to be a student here, but
unfortunately, got caught up in illegal activities." 

"That stuck up bitch!" someone shouted out.  Cunt slime thought she recognized the
voice of her former boyfriend.

"Well, I have it on the best sources that our former classmate is now simply another
hairless slave, currently called 'cunt slime.'  What do you think of that?" she asked the
boy who had yelled.

"I think it suits her just fine, that slut.  She was nothing but a cock-tease anyway!  I
guess those days are over for her now, though!"

"Not only that, but I understand she's been whoring herself out for the past week,"
Kathy continued.  "As luck would have it, we - the girls on the Prom Committee - found
her pimp and arranged to rent her for the weekend.  Girls, you know how your
boyfriends are always bothering you to put out, especially after they go to all the trouble
and expense of a nice dinner and tickets to the prom?  Well, now you don't have
to...just send her over to our very own rented slave whore!  And, of course, if any of you
girls would like to get some relief, she's here for you as well.  Ladies and gentlemen, I
present our former classmate, cunt slime!"  

A spotlight suddenly shined on a previously dark corner of the room, next to the stage,
illuminating a small cage containing the cowering slave.  Kathy went over and opened
the door, ordering the girl to crawl out and onto the center of the dance floor.  Murmurs
filled the air as the assembled class stared at her.  Kathy had her stand and turn slowly,
displaying her naked body to her former friends and classmates .  Kathy had her spread
her legs and show everyone the moisture visible on her hairless, unprotected cunt lips. 
Laughter erupted when those standing nearest heard the slave beg her Mistress to be
allowed to cum.  Coupled with her near pre-slavery appearance, she was the epitome
of lust.  

"How much?" one of the boys asked, reaching for his wallet.

"That's the best part, she's absolutely free," Kathy announced.  "It's all included in the
ticket price.  As many times as you want, any hole, as often as you want.  She's ours
until Monday morning.  And girls, I understand our former classmate has become quite
the cunt-lapper, too.  I admit I haven't tried her out - yet - but feel free."

The one thing Kathy had failed to take into account was the need for some sort of
order, a way to ration the slave out.  Several of the boys rushed at cunt slime, knocking
her to the floor.  Others took a step or two, stopped by their angrily glowering girlfriends. 
Someone found an old, stained mattress and threw it on the floor next to the slave's
cage.  Chaining her collar to a nearby heating radiator, she became immediately
available for everyone.

What would have been the fond memory for a girl named Sheri, celebrating the end of
her junior year of high school, quickly became a horror of abuses for the slave called
cunt slime.  Roughly thrown over her cage, she was subjected to repeated assaults on
her cunt and asshole, both of which were soon so filled that semen was pooling up on
the floor underneath her crotch.  One of the girls she'd treated poorly in her previous life
noticed,  and shoved her face into it, forcing her to lick it off the dirty floor.  This didn't
stop the assaults, though, as she was now on her knees.  The boys simply got on their
own knees behind her splayed thighs and continued to thrust inside her, their semen
simply being added to the mess on the floor as it squirted out of her overflowing holes.

After the first forty or so had their way with her, someone noticed that her cunt was so
cum-filled that he couldn't feel much of anything.  He grabbed her nipple rings, pulling
her to an upright kneeling position and eliciting a squeal from the sharp pain he was
causing.  She looked up at her abuser, blushing when she saw it was her former beau.

"Get those fuck holes clean, cunt!" he commanded harshly.  "I can't feel a fucking thing
inside that sloppy cunt of yours.  It's like I need a board tied to my ass to keep from
falling in."  

Those around him laughed at his comment; the girls giggled as cunt slime cupped her
hand under her cunt, letting the combined fluids of her own juices and forty cocks drip
onto it.  She quickly swapped hands, immediately taking the semen-filled one to her
mouth, licking it clean.  Even after cum stopped dripping, she kept going.  She knew
from experience there was much more still inside her raw, abused hole, and used her
fingers to scoop it out, continuing the practice of alternating her hands until she'd pretty
much eaten all the cum that she could reach.  She was still sloppy, of course, as
anyone would be after being fucked forty times, but there wasn't much to be done about
that. The boys began to line up again.

This time cunt slime was put on her back on the filthy mattress, and while two girls
pulled her ankles back over her head, the boys resumed their abuse of her already
battered holes.  One after another they fucked her asshole or cunt, most timing their
orgasms and pulling out just in time to shoot over her belly, tits and face.  Another sixty
boys took her this way, nearly the whole of what would have been, in another year, her
graduating class.

The orgy continued late into the night, when the some of the girls finally decided to
throw caution to the wind and join in.  The first was a girl who'd just fucked her
boyfriend in the back seat of his car.  She'd been a virgin until then, and when she
lowered herself on cunt slime's face, the slave could clearly see the ripped edges of the
girl's hymen and the streaks of blood on her thighs.  While she had tasted her own
virgin blood, this was different.  Cunt slime began to gag, and as she did so, the girl
bore down with her full weight, lifting her feet off the floor and nearly suffocating the
slave.  She began to bounce violently on cunt slime's face, beating the slave's nose
against her own clitoris with each stroke, quickly cumming with a soft squeal and an
accompanying tremor.  

That broke the ice, and soon the slave was being almost constantly double-teamed, a
cock in either her cunt or asshole while she sucked and licked the parade of wet,
swollen vaginas and puckered assholes as they took their turn sitting on her face.  One
girl, after sucking her boyfriend off, leaned over cunt slime and let the cum drip from her
mouth onto the slave's face, carefully aiming so that it landed on only in cunt slime's
open mouth, but her eyes, nose and forehead as well.

After an hour of this abuse, cunt slime was once again so saturated with cum that it
didn't matter what hole the boys used, there was so little friction it was like fucking a jar
of mayonnaise.  Rather than having the slave repeat her disgusting cum consumption
of before, her former arch-nemesis Kathy came up with another idea.

While the last few girls bounced up and down on her face, cunt slime's other two holes
were given a short break while more beer was passed around.  With the constant
fucking and drinking, it wasn't long before most of the boys needed to urinate.  When
cunt slime felt the first cock enter her already-battered vagina, she assumed it was
someone fucking her again; instead, she discovered, it was her cunt and asshole that
were going to be used as urinals.  Even with everything else she'd endured in the past
months, there was nothing so degrading as having her single most important assets -
her exquisitely trained fuckholes - used for so utilitarian a purpose.  Boy after boy stuck
his semi-erect prick in her holes, flushing them out with piss which soon flowed onto the
floor.  Thankfully, the squirming girls had ruined her makeup; the tears of shame would
not be noticed over the cunt juice already drying on her face.  The worst of it was
having her bowels filled with urine; she'd never been able to hold an enema for long,
and soon found herself begging to either be allowed to shit or have someone plug her. 
After nearly ten minutes of groveling, during which a tiny bit of shit-stained piss started
seeping out of her abused ass, Kathy told her she could shit, just as soon as she got
the floor cleaned up.

Cunt slime went at her task with a gusto she'd never before displayed, sliding on her
belly, using her breasts to push the waste into a small area, then almost rabidly
slurping, sucking and licking the nasty fluid up.  As she did, more of her piss enema
seeped out; this, too, she was ordered to drink.

When she was finally done, Kathy led her outside like an animal, a leash attached to
her nose ring, finally allowing her to squat on the grass and expel her bowels in the full
view of the passing cars.  Cunt slime looked up when she heard tires squeal, shocked
and horrified to see her own parents driving the family car.  She quickly bowed her
head, hoping they hadn't recognized her, but knowing in her heart just the opposite was
true.  Knowing that vindictive bitch Kathy, she thought to herself, they were probably
told she was going to be here.  Then she stopped; those thoughts were improper for a
slave, and she needed to be punished for them.

"Miss?" cunt slime asked softly, waiting for her dominatrix to acknowledge her.  "Miss,
may cunt slime speak, Miss?"

"What is it, whore?" Kathy spat.

"Miss, cunt slime had an improper thought, and begs to be punished, Miss," she said,
bowing her head submissively.

"What improper thought?" the teenager towering over her asked.  Cunt slime trembled,
almost afraid to tell her, but knowing she'd have to now.

"Miss, cunt slime thought the word 'bitch' when thinking of you, Miss."

"Oh, you did, did you?" Kathy smiled sadistically.  "I'm a bitch, am I?" she yelled, kicking
cunt slime in the belly, knocking her over.  "Well, I may be a bitch, but do you know
what you are?  You're nothing but a shit-eating, bald-cunted, saggy-titted whore!" she
bellowed, dragging the now-screaming slave by the leash over to the pile she'd recently
left on the grass.  "Eat it, you whore.  Eat every drop!"  Kathy shoved cunt slime's head
into the gooey mess of piss, cum and shit, rubbing her face across it like a dog being
chastised for messing the floor.  Cunt slime opened her mouth and tried to fill it as her
face was swiped back and forth, forcing feces into her nose, her ears, and under her
eyelids.  Kathy wasn't happy with this, even, and was soon sitting on the slave's back,
pounding her fists into the prone girl's head even as she continued trying to comply with
her Mistress's order.  Someone finally arrived and pulled Kathy off, holding her in a bear
hug until she calmed down.  Cunt slime finished slopping up the mess, and quickly
slithered on her belly - the most submissive thing she could think of - and after wiping
her face off with her hand, began licking and kissing Kathy's once-impeccably clean
patent leather pumps.

"Miss, please forgive cunt slime, Miss!" she cried, slathering her former rival's feet with
her tongue.  "Please punish cunt slime for being such a stupid, cock-sucking, ass-
fucking, cunt-licking whore, Miss!  Cunt slime willingly accepts whatever punishment
Miss deems appropriate, Miss!"

"Tell me you're a whore," Kathy said.

"Cunt slime is a whore!" the slave yelled at the top of her lungs.

"No, use your other name, the one you were born with...all of it."

"Sheri Ann Brown is a whore!" she screamed.  "Sheri Ann Brown is a fat, useless, shit-
eating, piss-drinking, ass-fucking, sloppy-cunted, pussy licking whore!"

"You fuck dogs."

"Sheri Ann Brown fucks dogs!"

"You fuck horses."

"Sheri Ann Brown fucks horses!"

"You suck shit from monkey's asses."

"Sheri Ann Brown sucks shit from monkey's asses!"

"I'm glad you understand your status, slave," Kathy said, finally calmed down.  "Now,
let's go to the ladies room.  I need to take a shit, and don't want to do it in front of
everyone."  

Cunt slime looked up at her better, a smile of appreciation on her face, as she was led
off to become a true toilet.  Even her former greatest enemy had a use for her, and that
was all that mattered.

The pimp finally came back for her two days later, during which time she'd not only
been fucked by everyone who attended her former school, but anyone else who had
fifty cents to spend.  The price was set by cunt slime herself.  After Kathy told her that a
regular whore usually got fifty dollars for a blow job alone, she was asked to place a
monetary value on her own holes.  She knew she wasn't a hundredth the value of a real
whore, so that's where she set her price.  Cunt slime felt a slight tremble of pride when
Kathy told her the earnings were going to pay for copies of the videos and stills taken of
her at the prom, and that everyone who attended would be receiving a set of each, free.

And so it was that the pimp, after hearing the stories and viewing the tapes, contacted
the Training Center and suggested that perhaps cunt slime had learned her lesson, and
was ready to come home.  As for her part, the slave made a vow to herself to never,
ever believe she was better than anyone else, not even another slave.

A New World
11: Final Exams and a New Home

Although most weren't aware of the specific details concerning cunt slime's experiences
during her absence, virtually all of the center's cadre noticed a profound change in her
behavior, attitude and demeanor after she returned.  No longer did it appear she was
paying lip service to her submissiveness, or was she being obedient simply to avoid
punishment; now, it seemed, she was doing these things because she fully accepted
her place in society, and understood that her sole value wasn't in her sexual abilities or
the fact that she could prepare a gourmet meal, but simply in total, absolute obedience. 

It quickly became apparent as she performed her daily tasks that she willingly ignored
her own needs, concentrating only on the desires and comfort of others - including the
other slaves.  Even in disobedience, serving others was her overriding thought. The
staff recognized this, and often pretended not to notice.  

An early example occurred shortly after her return.  Cunt slime, who had by now been
renamed "hole," noticed the a young girl sobbing across from her at the feeding trough.
The new slave couldn't have been even twelve years old; although she was completely
hairless like the rest of the slaves, it didn't appear she'd been shaved.  Her tits weren't
even large enough to be ringed yet, just little puffy nipples.  Hole couldn't help but
notice the dried blood and semen on the girls thighs as she knelt there crying, mouthing
the word "mommy" over and over again.

Although speaking to another slave was prohibited, hole gently whispered to the young
girl, trying to console her.  The new slave whispered back, admitting that she was just
eleven and had been a slave for only three days.  Her virginity had been savagely
ripped from her by a succession of law enforcement officers after she was discovered in
the park with her boyfriend after curfew.  The girl was exhausted, emotionally spent, but
most of all, she said, she was hungry.  Hole understood the other slave's plight, and
unable to do anything else, slurped her own portion into her mouth, then spat it into the
other side of the trough.  The girl looked at her horrified at first that she would be
expected to eat something another person had licked up, but reality hit when she
realized the magnitude of hole's sacrifice.  She knew they'd both broken several rules
and would be punished if caught, but at least her belly wouldn't hurt quite as much. 
She returned holes smile, and after a furtive glance around, lapped up the tasteless
paste as quickly as she could.  Their secretive exchange was observed and duly noted,
but a decision had already been made to simply wait for any further developments.

Hole, of course, immediately reported her own transgression but could not identify the
specific slave she'd given her meal to.  She knew no name, and one hairless, naked
teenage girl looks pretty much like another when you get right down to it.  Hole's
punishment, since she was apparently being overfed, she was told, was a week of half
rations.  She gladly accepted her fate, knowing that another person - even if it was just
another slave - had received some small benefit.   The feeling of having provided a
valuable service to another was more important to her than the hunger pangs that
would follow her for the next seven days.  The young girl, who was actually eleven
years old, would also be punished, but that would be a more immediate, quick and
somewhat more painful experience. 

Hole found herself unable to lie or deceive her Trainers, and discovered that just
reporting whenever she violated a rule - whether intentional or not - made her feel a bit
less guilty about it.  The cadre understood, and most punishments from that point on
were of a more symbolic nature,  rather than truly abusive: a sound spanking, perhaps,
or withholding of orgasm privileges for a day or two.  These minor sanctions she
accepted without complaint or hesitation, sometimes simply nodding but most often
thanking her superiors for taking the effort to correct her.  At this point in her
transformation, though, she surely would have done the same if punishment were a
whipping, a beating, or even something worse.

After a short retraining period, there wasn't much new to teach hole.  She'd attended
and successfully completed every course her Owner mandated, and a few others
 besides.  It was now time to decide whether she was ready for the final exam.  .  The
first "no" vote came from the Trainer who's cock hole had bitten those months ago. 
Whether for revenge or a less nefarious purpose, he simply did not want hole to
graduate.  Rejection would mean a return to Day 1 of orientation training; back to the
confines of the cages she'd already twice left.  Fortunately for hole, as long as 90% of
the votes were in her favor, she'd not be regressed.  Hole held her breath as the other
votes were revealed, sighing loudly when she heard the result.  Eighteen for graduation,
one for return to Day 1.  She would not be sent back, and would now prepare for the
final exam, to be held in one week.  

What hole didn't realize was that every slave who makes it this far automatically
graduates; the final exam is simply one last opportunity for the staff to abuse the slave. 
Lasting four entire days - 96 consecutive hours - the slave is put through a rigorous
routine of tasks covering the entire spectrum of her basic and advanced training.  In
hole's case, this included preparing and serving a gourmet dinner, repairing a broken
sink trap, dancing seductively before an audience, and serving a succession of men
with her exquisitely trained body.  

Beginning with a torturous 12 hour round of physical exertion which included a fifteen
mile run, an agonizing 100 miles on the dreaded stationary bicycle (this time the dildos
were set to a constant high), 500 consecutive sit-ups and an excruciating two mile
speed crawl across gravel, the slave was physically exhausted and very nearly
emotionally spent even before these warm-up events ended.  Phase two - sucking off a
line of 40 men in two hours - seemed almost like a rest stop, as did her next task,
preparing and serving a meal of rosemary broiled salmon, steamed asparagus au
gratin, Caesar salad and freshly baked rolls to an intimate party of fifty - followed by a
desert of Baked Alaska.  Hole didn't even notice the semen drying on her face and
chest, nor the slight bleeding from her chaffed and chapped lips as she worked almost
on instinct, removing plates and silverware almost before her judges finished their
portions.  Hole's task was made even more difficult by the eight inch spiked heels and
short ankle hobbles she wore while scurrying from place setting to place setting.  The
shoes  were a full two inches higher than anything she'd trained in, and caused her calf
muscles to stretch painfully.  She watched eagerly for signs of acceptance or
displeasure, but the cadre members selected for this task were too experienced to let
anything show.  The only gestures they made were to order her under the table to
provide oral relief while they ate.

Phase four was another marathon fuck session, this one involving 144 men in groups of
three, taking her constantly for 48 hours.  The difference between previous marathons
was that this was not a simple exercise in rape.  This time, hole was expected to use all
her abilities to provide the highest level of pleasure possible to those testing her; she
would not be allowed to simply lay back as prick after prick used her as a semen
depository.  She would be given precisely 55 minutes to take each group to the level of
ecstasy that only a perfectly-trained slave girl can provide, followed by five minutes to
clean up and change the sheets on her bed.  The sheets had priority, so it was only with
great effort that hole was able to even begin to clean herself; she finally found that if
she would forego the towels and simply wipe herself with the soiled sheets as she
removed them from the bed, she could be slightly more presentable.  The groups of
men could take her as often as they could during their allotted time; the only condition
was that a load of cum had to be deposited in each of her primary holes.

Hole was nearly delirious when the final group of men finally finished with her, battered
and bruised, the aches seemingly originating deep in her joints.  In two days, she'd
coaxed 441 loads of semen from the balls of her raters, with only two giving her a
"barely acceptable" grade.  If a mirror had been made available, hole would have seen
that both her rectum and vaginal opening had been so abused from the constant friction
that the skin was raw; her swollen and contused cunt took on an appearance not unlike
a child's skinned knee.  She was still, however, permitted no rest.  Another full day
stood between the slave and either graduation or a return to the orientation cages, or
so she believed.  She was given a bowl of milk and a small portion of slave gruel - the
first food she'd consumed since the test began, though she had been receiving water
every two hours - before moving on to the final segments of the exam.

Exhausted by the physical abuses inflicted on her, the next six hour phase was
completely mental - a comprehensive written examination covering virtually every topic
she'd been taught.  Placed in a warmly-heated room, the overhead lights were dimmed
and soft, relaxing music was played as she sat in a comfortable overstuffed chair and
answered question after question - all in essay format - on everything from personal
hygiene to human anatomy and erogenous zones, from plumbing to feng shui,
maintaining a household budget and nutrition.  Struggling against the exhaustion that
permeated her every sinew, hole finished the written portion with scarcely 10 minutes
remaining, then used that time to review her answers.  Her mind was so befuddled by
this point that she had troubles making sense of the words, and when the buzzer
announced the session had expired, she silently gave a blessing of thanks to whatever
power had kept her awake and allowed her to complete her task.

The end was in sight, though hole had no means of knowing that fact.  Her mind wasn't
sure if it had been one day or one week since her torture began; she instinctively knew
feeding was twice a day, so perhaps it had only been a half day, she thought.  Her
shoulders slumped as she realized if this was true, she'd fail and be sent back to
remediation, thereby denying her rightful Owner the use of her body for another...well,
she had no true idea how long she'd been here already, and no concept of how long
she might remain.  However, the cadre had long ago recognized the symptoms of self-
doubt, and were already prepared.

Hole was subjected to another speed crawling session, her battered body complaining
with every movement, as she was taken once more around the perimeter of the main
compound.  A short jaunt, really, barely a half mile but pure agony to the physically and
emotionally beaten slave.  While one staff member escorted her, an ad hoc meeting of
the management overseeing her case met.  Agreeing that this particular slave was one
of the most obedient, submissive pieces of meat they'd ever seen, a final task was
decided upon.  One more step, one final painful degradation, and she will have proven
herself.

"Slave," the senior of the small group intoned once the panting, bloody girl returned to
her starting place, "you will now prove your absolute obedience to us.  On the ground
before you is a butane torch.  Light it."

Hole did as commanded, using the built-in striker to ignite the flame after opening the
gas valve.  She was then told to adjust the flame to a fine, hot spear.

"Use the torch to heat your nipple rings," was the next order.  Without hesitation, hole
touched the flame to the ring imbedded in her left nipple, holding it there until the skin
began to scorch and she was told move to the other breast.  A grimace appeared on
her face as the heat attacked the sensitive nerve endings, but she never wavered,
holding the flame in place until told to stop.

"In your early days here, you were guided by your own sexual need," the man
explained.  "Slaves have no right to anything, including sexual release.  You showed
that you are an uncontrollable slut, undeserving of any pleasure.  You shall, therefore,
never achieve an orgasm again.  Spread your legs and burn off your clit!" he
commanded.

Hole's body moved almost automatically, without conscious instruction from her brain. 
She'd been given an order and would obey.  Her body jerked upright, her crotch rising
and her legs spreading as the torch automatically began to move towards her groin. 
Her only thought was whether the pain would bring her to one last gigantic cum before
they were forever barred from her.  She could feel the heat on her thighs as the flame
moved closer, her hand trembling slightly in anticipation, but a loving smile on her face
directed at the man who was ordering her own self-mutilation.  As the flame
approached, she felt her cunt lips wither, drawing themselves in as though trying to
protect themselves.  She was barely an inch away from permanently preventing herself
from ever having any sexual relief again.

"Stop!" the man commanded.  "Move the torch away and turn it off!"  Hole automatically
obeyed, but her brain wondered if she'd done something wrong.  Quite the contrary,
she had passed her final test, she was informed, and after a short period of
recuperation in the infirmary, she would be sent to her Owner.  Hole nodded
submissively, thanking those who had so tested her before collapsing on the ground,
unconscious.

When she finally awakened, hole found herself in a comfortable bed, the filth having
already been carefully washed from her body.  Bandages covered the worst of her
injuries, and her ankles and legs were strapped to the bed rails in order to prevent her
from scratching herself.  Liquid nutrients were being introduced intravenously, as her
starved and shrunken stomach probably couldn't have handled much.  As she laid back
again, relaxing, she noticed the television monitor strategically placed above her head. 
While a video of slaves in a variety of sexual activities played, subliminals imbedded in
the recording further ingrained themselves into hole's psyche. The videos continued
around the clock, through hole's physical therapy and the changing of her dressings. 
Even when she slept, the tiny speakers on the sides of the bed constantly played the
sounds of slaves being used, white noise covering the hidden messages designed to
remind hole of her status, of her purpose in life.

After a week, during which hole's body responded primarily by sleeping at least fifteen
hours a day, she was deemed fit enough to begin a soft diet regimen.  Slave gruel
again, though as thin as it normally was, it was made even more so by the addition of
real milk.  Even sugar was added, a substance which would not only improve hole's
health but made her anxious for her feedings.  As the medical slave spoon-fed her, hole
would lean forward eagerly, sticking her tongue out in an attempt to ensure not a single
drop was wasted.  It only took another two days before the bonds were released and
hole was put on the same high-calorie, high-protein diet she'd had before.  Although
barely palatable - once again a mixture of various meats and vegetables fortified with
additives - hole devoured each serving in record time.  Soon she was declared fully fit
and discharged from the infirmary, ready to go serve her true Owner.

It would be several days before she could be shipped - her Owner having decided to
not make the trip himself - so hole was assigned to transient status, and thereby
available to any staff who wished to avail themselves of her pleasures.  The difference
now was that hole was granted free time - 8:00 a.m to 4:00 p.m., during which she
could do virtually anything she wanted - sleep, shower, watch sex videos, sit in on
classes, even luxuriate in a bubble bath if she desired - with one exception.  While
slaves were permitted, and often encouraged, to masturbate, she was not allowed to
achieve an orgasm unless under the supervision of, and given permission by, one of
the cadre.  Hole followed this rule diligently, often bringing herself right to the peak just
before her free time was over, knowing that someone would soon be using her.  She
still took her meals in the communal dining room, but other than that, her life was one of
relative luxury for the moment.  She took the opportunity to explore a bit, visiting the
places and watching the events that she'd undergone happen to other slaves.   She
even heard that a new batch of convicted females were arriving, and joined in as part of
the crowd jeering and verbally abusing them.  She didn't feel superior to these
cowering, still unshaved women; she believed she was helping them in a sense,
bringing them closer to the total degradation necessary to become a complete, proper
slave.

Finally, though, hole's stay at the Training Center came to an end.  The weekly pick-up
from the slave shippers arrived, and it was time for hole to accompany three dozen
other girls being sent out to various locations.  

Although she'd not been able to read anything in a very long time, she hadn't
completely forgotten how, and was able to make out some of the destinations on the
shipping crates.  Two of her fellow slaves were going overseas, to Paris.  Hole envied
them, vaguely remembering having read about the City of Lights.  She saw others were
going to medical schools and laboratories; she hoped they were going to be trained in
those fields, but knew that the reality was that they'd be the subjects of various,
oftentimes hideous, experiments.  Then she saw hers.  She was going back to her own
home town, the place where both her greatest degradation and crucial revelation
occurred.  Hole was neither pleased nor sad to be returning to a place where she was
so well-known, where virtually everyone of her age had sampled her body.  She had no
say in the matter, and the best she could hope for was a fairly kind Owner, one who
would provide food and shelter, and if she were extremely lucky, allow her the
occasional orgasm.

Preparation for shipment was an unpleasant necessity.  Some of the girls would be
shipped thousands of miles, others would be dropped off just outside the gates.  Hole
was somewhere in the middle, several hundred miles away.  It didn't matter how far a
slave was going, however, because packing was packing.  First came the enemas - two
for each girl, the first to empty her bowels and the second to rinse the residue of the
first away - followed by the oversized plugs that would make it impossible for any of
them to soil themselves.  Next came the vibrating egg, set on low to ensure the slaves
would be delivered in a complete state of sexual need, followed by the diaper which
would both keep the egg in place and prevent any urine or vaginal leakage.  Finally, the
ball gag and restraints.  Since hole was only being transported a short distance - less
than a full day's trip - she was bound on her knees, with a large ball gag painfully
inserted in her mouth.  The girls going longer distances - including the overseas
shipments - were prepared somewhat differently.  Rather than being packed kneeling,
they were laid on their sides and bound in a fetal position.  Their ball gags each had a
small opening, through which a tube connected to a water bottle was inserted.  With
some effort, these slaves could bite down on the gag, which also served as sort of a
pump, and thereby force water down the tube into their mouths.  The entire process
took some time.  Hole was among the first, straining to look upward as the lid was
lowered onto the sturdy wooden box, then nailed into place, leaving her in total
darkness.  A low rumble, followed by movement told her she was being lifted into the
delivery truck; she'd already seen the forklift waiting.

With three dozen girls being shipped out, the process was time-consuming.  Each slave
had to be prepared, then individually packed depending on her final destination and
travel time.  It took several hours before hole sensed the low rumble of the truck engine
starting, then the slight jiggling as it began to move.  By then, her body was already
quivering thanks to the constant teasing of the vibrator inside her.

The poor road conditions did nothing to alleviate hole's need, the shaking and bouncing
as the truck rode over rough pavement and potholes causing her to bite down on her
ball gag, trying to avoid the orgasm she so desperately needed.  Hole knew she wasn't
allowed to have one; that had been made quite clear to her, and she expected her
obedience would be checked upon arrival.  So she knelt in her dark box, trying to
reposition herself in increasingly more uncomfortable positions so as to get her mind off
the incessant buzzing going on inside her.

The truck finally left the broken highway and hole felt it turning left and right as the
driver negotiated city streets.  Although the first to be packaged, her box was the last
loaded and she would, therefore, be the first delivery of the day.  She had been in the
box for nearly eight hours now, and the slight swaying as the truck made its way
through the city streets seemed to lull her to sleep.  She awoke with a start when she
felt the truck backing up, then stopping suddenly.  She heard the cargo door open, and
then her crate was being pushed out onto a loading dock.  From there, another forklift
picked it up and carried the box inside a warehouse.

Hole fully expected to be delivered to her Owner immediately, but this was a mistake on
her part.  She waited in dark silence for several more hours, her crate sitting on the
floor, until another delivery truck was finally available for the last leg of her trip.  She
could tell this was a smaller truck, not a diesel engine at all; she'd become familiar with
such things as part of her training.  Finally, though, after another thirty minute trip, she
felt her box being lifted out of the truck and trundled up a flight of stairs.  A few murmurs
- she imagined the delivery person handing over a clipboard of papers to be signed,
and the muffled sound of a door closing.  Momentary quiet, then the creaking of nails
being removed from the crate lid.  Hole strained to lift her eyes upward, hoping to get a
glimpse of her new Owner.  Sunlight glared through a window, blinding her as she
blinked her eyes, unable to shade them from the brilliance. 

"Position!" a woman's voice said.  Hole responded automatically, lifting her body upright
while spreading her knees as far as possible within the confines of the tiny box, her
head bowed and eyes lowered, focused on her own knees.  A leather hood was pulled
over her head and quickly buckled into place, then the crate was knocked over, causing
hole to tumble to the ground.

"I said position, you disobedient little cunt!" the voice once again said, this time
punctuated with sharp kicks to the slave's ribs.  As soon as she was able to kneel
properly, however, another blow - this one to her back - knocked her to the ground
again.

"You insolent piece of shit!  When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it and
not move until I tell you to!" the woman screamed.  "But since you're apparently not
capable of kneeling properly, just stay down there like the bitch you are and get that fat
whore's ass up in the air.  I'm going to punish you like you've never been punished
before, you...you fucking useless piece of shit!"

Hole hadn't been treated like this since her first day of orientation, and was trembling in
fear now.  At the Center, it was a given that slaves would generally survive.  In her
case, she was already owned, so it was unlikely anything truly bad would happen. 
Now, though - assuming this abusive woman was her Owner - she could be maimed,
even killed, and nobody would give a shit.  

These were the thoughts going through the terrified slave's mind when the toe of the
woman's stiletto boot entered her.

"Start humping my shoe like you love it, bitch!  Shove that ass back and forth and show
me how much of that cunt slime you can get on it.  You'd better make me think you love
it, too, because otherwise, it's going up your ass...and I won't be as gentle as I am
now!"  The woman punctuated her command by twisting her foot, the heel savagely
brutalizing the terrified slave's vaginal canal.

Hole responded the only way she could, by violently rocking herself back and forth on
her knees, ass held high into the air, while the sharply pointed heel of  her cruel
Owner's boot scraped back and forth inside her cunt.  Hole could feel the tender
membranes tearing, fearful that not all the moisture she felt between her legs was
natural lubrication.  

Suddenly, the woman lifted her other foot and placed the heel next to the first one,
ripping into hole's cunt with both feet.  The slave screamed, falling forward at the first
painful entry, trying in vain to resume her position while the woman began to spread her
own feet apart, her heels deeply imbedded inside the slave's cunt.  Hole felt a burning
sensation as she was ripped open, the membranes giving way.  All she could do was
scream, stuck as she was on her Owner's feet, unable to move.  Then everything went
black,.

A New World

12: Welcome to Hell

When hole woke up, she found herself hanging from a beam,  her wrists chained
over her head, while a spreader bar between her ankles kept her legs spread
painfully apart.  A chain attached between the spreader bar and the overhead
beam lifted her legs so that her feet were above her head, folding her over like
an envelope.  Her mouth was kept open with a large ring gag, through which her
tongue was pulled.  While she was unconscious, a metal grommet had been inserted
into her tongue, which was now tied to her nose ring with a short length of
wire. 

"Oh, lookie, my new little pain fuck is awake!" hole's Owner said.  She walked
up to the slave and quickly shoved three fingers up the helpless girl's cunt. 
"I'll bet you're thirsty.  Here, drink this," she said, sticking the straw end
of a squirt bottle in the girls mouth.  As the first squirt hit hole's mouth,
her eyes got wide and she began thrashing around in her bonds.

"Oh, it's not that bad," the woman said.  "Just a little mixture I had fixed up
specially for you.  Habanero peppers pureed with dog piss."  Then she put her
face next to the squirming slave's and whispered, "Get used to it.  It's going
to be a regular part of your diet.  Here, have some more!"  She squirted the
rest of the bottle into the defenseless girl's mouth, watching in amusement as
she tried unsuccessfully to swallow fast enough to keep up with the flow.

"Not bad, you little whore, but you'll be licking every drop off the floor. 
Now, no swallowing this last little bit," she told her slave, directing the last
squirt directly onto the inflamed hole in the girl's tongue.  "Just hold it
there, let it soak in and disinfect everything.  Don't you even think about
swallowing, either.  I'm going to inspect these useless holes of yours."

With her tongue pulled out of her mouth the way it was, there was no possible
way for hole to get the stinging liquid off the recently-made puncture in her
mouth, and with ring gag in place, the only sounds she could make were guttural
croaks.  Even swallowing was almost impossible, with her jaws wedged open
painfully as they were.

Had hole been able to scream, she surely would have, as her abuser stuffed the
habanero pepper-covered fingers of both hands in the bound slave's cunt, the
fingers spreading the slit vertically while the hands themselves moved away from
each other, turning her once-tight fuck hole into a gaping, pain-filled mass of
bloody flesh.  The damage from the stiletto heels was plainly visible, the tears
in the tissue bleeding freely now, as the woman's fingers quickly became covered
in blood.  This neither stopped nor slowed her, though, as she continued to
force three, then four  fingers into hole's formerly tight opening.  The woman
grinned sadistically as began sawing in and out of the girl's tender cunt, the
sharply manicured thumbnail scratching against her clitoris, rubbing it raw. 
Faster and faster the maniacal redhead pistoned her arm back and forth, her
fingers coming out bloodier and bloodier each time.  Then, without giving the
agonized slave a moment of respite, she forced the fingers of her other hand
inside the slaves cunt, and bending them outward, began spreading the bloody gas
wider and wider, until she was able to peer inside.  The damage was visibly
evident, bloody streaks like those left by a bullwhip covering the girl's most
tender tissues.  She continued to spread her slave's cunt wider and wider, until
both hands were in up beyond her wrists. Hole's Owner then clasped both hands
together, still inside the girls flaming cunt, and began pistoning forward,
punching against hole's cervix again and again until the bound slave began to
gag and vomit.

Not releasing her hands from each other, the woman roughly pulled them out of
hole as one, the loud popping sound indicating the ripping of the slave's
perineum. All hole could do at this point was howl the most unhumanly possible
sound and fall mercifully unconscious. 

She awoke to the smell of ammonia and realized the odor was a piss saturated
cloth placed over the nose opening in her hood.  She was still bound as before,
and could feel the blood dripping out of her ravaged, now cavernous cunt.  In
her semi-delirious state, she could barely make out the voices talking about
her.

"I want the bitch's holes to be so loose they'll be useless to anyone, except
maybe as a trash container," hole heard her Owner say.  A pair of hands began to
explore hole's lower region as she slowly began to regain consciousness.

"Well, you really did a number on it, I'll give you that," a male voice said. 
"If you leave her like this, she'll probably die of septic shock.  The exterior
of her rectum and vagina are basically one hole now.  The first time she shits,
bacteria is going to get into her uterus, and she'll end up dead."

"So fix it," she said matter-of-factly. "But I still want her so loose that
neither she nor anyone fucking her will feel anything.   As a matter of fact, I
want you to fix it so she'll never feel sexual pleasure again.  She's such a
slut, if I don't have her clit cut off or something, she'll be humping the
furniture."

"Okay, I can do that," the doctor replied, "but you realize it'll cut down
considerably on her resale value.  Even the torture houses like their slaves to
have their clits intact; their sexual need makes them more vulnerable.  Rather
than amputating it, may I make a suggestion?"

"Okay, what?" hole's Owner asked.

"Botulism toxin.  You know, the botox treatment women were getting not so long
ago, to remove wrinkles?  Basically, it kills the nerve endings.  New ones
eventually grow, but re-application every few months would make her entire
vaginal region virtually numb. The only real downfall is that it's painful as
hell.  Somehow, though I don't think you're worried about that."

"I'm not," the woman answered.  "As a matter of fact, whatever you do to her, I
don't want anaesthesia used at all."

"I guess that would be okay for most of the small stuff, but there are a few
things we'll need to put her out for."

"No anaesthesia, I said!  I want the bitch to suffer, and the only relief she
gets is if she passes out!"  The woman punctuated her comment with a slap across
hole's face with the quirt she was holding.

"If you say so," the doctor replied, pulling his hands away from the slave's
cunt and wiping them off on her belly.

Blinded as she was by the hood, hole could hear the sounds of chain rattling,
but was unaware that her Owner was unfastening her bonds until she came loose
and fell three feet to the ground, landing on her back.  Thankfully, her head
hadn't first; otherwise, her skull would certainly have cracked like an egg on
the concrete floor.  Pain shot through the slave's tits as her mask was ripped
off.  Opening her tear-filled eyes was difficult, but when hole did, she saw a
huge woman - her Owner, apparently - standing on her shoulders, sharp stiletto
heels grinding into her nipples.

Hole looked up in agony at the woman torturing her.  Barely 5'6" tall, but
topping out at over 300 pounds, the only way she could be described was
"disgustingly fat."  The black latex panties and bra did nothing but bring
attention to the folds of fat covering her ample body.  Her biceps were the size
of most people's thighs, and her humongous tits flowed over her bra in sweaty
bulges.  Other than the pure obesity, the only other things hole noticed was the
flaming red hair and the look of pure hatred on her Owner's face.

"Hello, bitch," the woman said, grinning sadistically and grinding her heels
into the supine slave's breasts.  "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

Unable to answer with her swollen tongue still attached to her septum ring, she
could do nothing but wince and shake her head.  The quirt slashed down,
splitting her cheek open.

"I can't hear the rocks rattling in that fucking empty head of yours, slave! 
Fucking answer me!"

Hole tried, but was only able to let out a tiny, pitiful squeak.

"Fuck, you're just like the rest of your stupid family," the woman said.  "Can't
do a fucking thing for yourself."  She reached down and snipped the tiny wire,
allowing hole to retract her tongue.  "Now, answer me, cunt!"

Barely able to move her swollen tongue, hole tried to answer.  "No, Misthess,"
she replied.  Three times the quirt flew across her face, each creating a new
slice, the final one across the slave's lips.

"Get this fucking straight, bitch.  I am not a 'Mistress.'  I am not anyone's
'Mistress.'  A "mistress" is someone who fucks married man in the hopes he'll
divorce his wife and marry her.  I am your fucking Owner, and you will refer to
me as 'my Lady,' not as a fucking 'Mistress.'  Is that fucking understood?"  The
quirt landed once more, this time across hole's nose.

'M'lathy, yeth m'lathy."

"As for you, you little tramp, you aren't worth of a name.  You're just a thing,
something I use when it suits me.  A piece of property...not even that, since
you have less value than a turd.  You're not even a turd, just a thing, an it,
you understand that?"

"M'lathy, yeth, m'lathy, it unerthans, m'lathy."

"Get this - this thing's - parents on the net.  I want to speak with them.  The
bitch first, if she's available," it's Owner told someone out of the slave's
sight.

A few moments passed while the connection was made, and then an unseen voice
said, "They're on the line, Ma'am."

"Hi, Janet!" the obese woman greeted gaily.  "How have you been?  It's been so
long!"

"I'm sorry, do we know each other?" the slave's mother replied.

"Aw, I'm disappointed you don't remember me, after all the fun times we had,"
the woman said sarcastically.  "Or rather, the fun times you had at my expense. 
Don't you recall the time you suggested I try out for the cheerleading squad,
only to have you call me a 'fat pig' when I auditioned?  And what about prom
night, when your boyfriend asked me out for a date, then left me standing in
front of the dance hall while the two of you drove up in a limo?  I'm surprised
you've forgotten.  I sure as hell haven't."

"Sheila?  Sheila Hawthorne?"

"That's right, bitch!" the fat woman spat.  "The girl you humiliated all through
school, come back to haunt your ass!"

"Sheila, that was over 20 years ago," Janet replied, trying to seem calm when,
in fact, she was more nervous than she'd ever been in her life.

"Yes, it has been, Janet, and eighteen years of that was pure hell for me.  Did
you ever bother to find out what happened to me after that night?"

"Well, no, actually.  All I know is you stopped coming to school."

"That's right.  I was on par to become one of the honor graduates.  I had full
ride offers to three major universities, and because you humiliated me, I never
went back to school.  I ended up living under a bridge until some drunk raped
me, then I went into a shelter where the same thing happened.  I spent fifteen
years running away, Janet, living with abusive men and fucking for a few dollars
or a meal.  Because of you, I didn't get to become a doctor or lawyer like I
could have; I ended up a whore!"

"I'm really sorry, Sheila, but I was just a kid, and it was just a joke."

"Hey, no problem, kiddo.  Guess what?  I got my shit together finally, worked my
way through college and then made a few investments that really worked out. Then
I hit it big in the lottery, but I was doing well even before that.  All the
lottery did was speed up my plans.  But you know what drove me to bust my ass
and do all that?  You and your husband, you bitch!  Revenge.  Say, speaking of
revenge, I have something to show you."

The picture panned out, and then to the left, until the bound, bleeding slave
was in full view. 

"Recognize my latest toy?" she asked.

"I'm afraid not, Sheila, I don't."

"Aw...maybe this will help." The picture zoomed in on the girl's face."How about
now?"

"No, I still don't know who she is," Janet replied.

"Take a closer look.  Imagine her with light brown hair, without the ring in her
nose or the stripes across her face.  Imagine her bounding down the stairs for
breakfast, or maybe crawling naked out of the courtroom."

"Oh, my God...Sheri?  Is that my Sheri?"

"Gee, bitch, you're not as stupid as you look.  As I once heard someone say,
revenge is a dish served cold, and this one has been in the deep freeze for over
20 years."

"What do you want, Sheila?  What do we have to do to get our baby back?"

"Oh, you're never getting her back," Sheila replied.  "But here's what you're
going to do.  First thing tomorrow morning, you and hubby are going to the slave
registration office and register yourselves as my slaves.  All of your property,
your belongings and your bank accounts will become mine.  After that, you will
report to the address the registrar will provide.  You will walk there, naked,
from his office."

"You're out of your fucking mind, Sheila!" Janet screamed, the anger in her face
visible on the vidscreen.

"Oh, I'm absolutely sure I'm quite out of my fucking mind, just as I'm
absolutely sure what is going to happen to your precious baby daughter if you
aren't both kneeling naked on my doorstep by noon tomorrow."  She held up two
vials and zoomed the camera in on them.  "This one is sulfuric acid.  It will go
directly into your daughter's eyes at noon tomorrow, on the dot, if you're not
here.  This second one is a particularly virulent form of HIV, one that isn't
affected by the vaccine your daughter was given.  I'll let you have one last
chance to submit before I give her that. At noon, she goes blind.  At 5:00 p.m.,
she gets AIDS.  And you know what?  You're going to get daily updates on her. 
You see, I own a goodly portion of the telecom net now, and every time you log
on, no matter where from, the first thing you're going to see and hear is your
sightless daughter's suppurating sores and her screams of agony as she slowly
dies.  So, I suggest you talk to hubby right away and make the right decision. 
Otherwise, your daughter will have a most unpleasant death.  Oh, and if there
are any doubts about my sincerity, well, I do hope you consider what I said as
serious.  If not, by the time you sit down to dinner tomorrow, your baby girl
will be dying of AIDS, and there won't be a think you can do about it."

With that, Sheila terminated the connection and sat back, smiling gleefully. 

At the other end, Janet slumped down onto the floor, crying uncontrollably.  It
was there that her husband, Bill, found her four hours later.  Once he got the
story out of her, he replayed the video.

"We can't, Janet," he said, shaking his head slowly.  "That bitch is going to
kill her anyway, probably.  All we're going to be doing is giving her three
bodies to torture instead of one."

"That's my baby, you asshole!" she screamed.  "We have to do whatever we can for
her, regardless of the consequences to me or you."

"Honey, calm down.  We went over all this before she went to trial, and decided
that there was nothing we could do for her now."

"If we don't do what Sheila wants, our baby is going to die of AIDS!" she
wailed.

"And what guarantee do we have that Sheila won't do it anyway, even if we do
what she wants?  I'm sorry, dear, but I can't do it.  We have to get on with our
lives, and Sheri has to spend hers paying for whatever crime she committed. 
She's a slave now, and it's better if we don't even think about her anymore." 

"You bastard!  How could you even suggest that!" Janet screamed, beating her
fists on her husband's chest, finally falling to the floor in a sobbing heap.

"Can't you see what that bitch is doing?  This was her plan all along.  Hell,
she probably set Sheri up in the first place, just to get at us!"

"I don't care! I don't care! I don't care!" she cried.  "I can't go on without
her, without knowing I've done everything I could to protect her!  I'm going
tomorrow, with or without you." 

"You do what you want, then," Bill replied.  "I'm going to go on with my life." 
With that last word, he walked out of the house, never to return.  His mind was
made up, and so was hers.

Janet was frantic.  Sheila had explicitly said if they both weren't waiting on
her doorstep, her daughter would die in the most horrendous manner imaginable to
her.  Now her husband had walked out, and there was nothing she could do but
collapse on the floor and cry.  Hours later, she walked into the bathroom and
looked at herself in the mirror.  Her eyes were red and bloodshot, her hair
stringy and wet from the tears.  Seeing her own reflection, she knew what she
had to do. 

She was waiting outside the slave registry office when it opened the following
morning, having left everything but her identification at home.  She knew she'd
need it in order for the Registrar to positively identify her, and that it would
be confiscated as soon as her tracking chip was installed.  Everything else she
left at home, not even bothering to lock the doors.  If anyone wanted her
things, they were welcome to them; as for her husband's crap, she could care
less at this point.  Whether it became property of the state or some thief, it
didn't matter anymore.

"Yes, I was told you'd probably be here this morning," the Registrar, and
elderly gentleman, said.  "However, I was expecting two of you?"

"My, uh, my husband decided not to come," she said.

"How unfortunate," the Registrar replied.  "I've been led to believe Ms.
Hawthorne was quite explicit in wanting both of you in her possession.  Well, no
matter; you're here, and I suppose that will have to do.  Please remove your
clothing," he said matter-of-factly, flipping Janet's ID onto the desk.  "We
haven't all day, come on," he prodded when she hesitated.  "In a few moments
you're going to be a slave, and you might as well get used to being naked in
front of people now."

"Yes, Sir," Janet replied in a resigned tone, fumbling with the buttons on her
blouse.  She'd known this was coming, and hadn't bothered with undergarments. 
All she had on were her blouse, a pair of slacks, and shoes.  These she quickly
removed and set on the Registrar's desk.  He looked her body over,
disapprovingly.

"You should have known better," he said, pointing to her thick bush of curly
pubic hair.  "Now I'll have to take care of it for you, and it won't be nearly
as nice for you if you'd shaved yourself.  Follow me, please," he asked.  She
knew is wasn't a request, though, but an order.

He led her into an adjoining room where a medical exam table awaited.  The
Registrar impatiently patted the padded table, indicating Janet should lay down
on it.  After her wrists were bound by leather straps over her head, he placed
her feet in ankle stirrups and locked them in place with metal bands.  Moving
back to Janet's head, he had her open her mouth, then inserted a large red ball
gag which he secured behind her head.  Janet was now completely immobile and
absolutely defenseless.

"It will be necessary to first insert the slave chip," he explained.  "Once you
have it installed, there will be no turning back."  With that simple statement,
he placed a small gun-like device against Janet's neck and fired.  She flinched
at the loud pop of compressed air forcing the chip through her skin, but there
was little pain or discomfort.  It was now official; Janet was Sheila's
property, her slave.

"Next we need to shave you.  This will probably be somewhat pleasurable at
first, and then quite uncomfortable.  I warn you that either having an orgasm or
flinching would not be good ideas." 

Janet could do nothing but lay there, splayed out while the Registrar began his
work.  As promised by the Registrar, the vibrations caused by the heavy barber's
shears during the initial shearing were arousing, causing her to twice clinch
her leg muscles to avoid an orgasm.  The Registrar did nothing to help her,
pressing firmly each time the shears approached her engorged clitoris. 
Fortunately for Janet, she was able to avoid the orgasm - for now.

This was followed by the careful scraping of the remaining stubble with a
straight razor.  It was a dry shave - no warm water or soap, only the little
moisture left by Janet's leaking cunt used as lubricant.  She dared not even
breathe as he carefully pinched her labia, pulling the skin taut so he could get
the last of the tiny hairs.  Satisfied with his work, he released the newly
denuded slave from the bonds. Her entire crotch was raw and inflamed from the
scraping, but her allowed her neither lotion nor respite before giving her the
first command she would receive as a slave. 

"All fours, bitch, legs spread and ass in the air," he commanded, quickly moving
behind her and raping her as a slave for the first time.  He did this without
any further comment, but simply because she was now a slave and he had the
ability to use her as he desired.  As he pumped into her, Janet felt her body
begin to respond, and was both humiliated and ashamed of this.  He came quickly,
pulling out slightly to ensure his semen was not only in, but also on, her cunt.

While the thick froth dripped down Janet's thighs, he locked a metal collar
around her neck.  The leather restraints on her wrists were attached to the
collar lock, rendering her unable to move her hands to protect herself.  Then,
after locking Janet's feet into a pair of six inch heels, he placed an 18"
hobble around her ankles.  Finally, he took a felt marker and wrote "FREE FUCKS"
across Janet's belly.

"Well," he said, "You'd better get going.  You only have two hours to get to
your Owner's house, and I have a feeling you may get delayed a bit."  With a
cruel laugh, he tossed the helplessly bound mother out the door onto the
sidewalk before making a quick phone call.

"She came alone," he said into the receiver.  "Yes, she just left here, in
exactly the manner you instructed."

At the other end of the connection, Sheila hung up and motioned to one of her
assistants, a young, muscular blond man, handsome in a sort of surfer way..

"Have them keep an eye on him, but don't pick him up yet," she instructed. 
"Make sure they understand what will happen if they lose him.  I want constant
surveillance."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said politely, quickly exiting the room to attend to that
business. 

"Start raping the new cunt," Sheila said into the intercom on her desk.  "I want
cum flowing out of her when mama bitch arrives.  Let everyone have a turn with
her, especially the slaves on restriction.  Today, everyone gets to cum as often
as they want, as long as it's in or on the new cunt."

"Yes, Ms. Hawthorne," a female voice replied, sounding tinny coming from the
nearly antique speaker.

Sheila returned to working at her computer, a small window in the corner of the
screen tracking her new slave's progress as she teetered down the street towards
her Owner's residence, the scene changing as she passed each surveillance
camera.  The city-wide camera system was ostensibly for law enforcement use
only, but when you happen to be the contractor who installed most of it...well,
there are ways around restricted system access.

Sheila didn't actually pay much attention to Janet's progress, though, just
occasionally glancing to see yet one indignation after another be forced on her
slave.  No, she had other things on her mind. Although the Brown residence and
bank accounts were jointly held, and technically not Sheila's property due to
Bill's failure to sign himself over to him, the reality was that with Janet's
submission, all the access codes had been provided to her anyway.  With a few
clicks of the mouse, the bank accounts were emptied, Bill's credit accounts were
closed, and the electronic locks on the house reset.  Bill was now both
penniless and homeless. 

Sheila wondered for a moment what she would do with the house, and decided not
to sell it; at least not immediately.  Although it wasn't suitable for her
personal use, perhaps she would use it as a party location, or maybe permit some
of her staff to live there.  She smiled, thinking that it would be funny to have
Janet and Bill serve as maid and butler - or better yet, sex toys - in their own
home.  Maybe she'd use it as a vacation home for her employees, let them fuck
the two former owners while they stayed there.  Well, that was something to deal
with later.  The important thing was that it was hers now.

She clicked the camera icon, maximizing the current surveillance camera view. 
Ah, yes...the park.  Not quite halfway to her destination, Janet made the
unfortunate decision to take a shortcut through the park, not realizing several
teenage boys were spending the day there with nothing better to do than "hanging
out."  Until they saw the naked, hobbled, defenseless slave, that is.  Sheila
zoomed the camera in, amazed at the ingenuity of these young men; she'd never
thought five boys could fuck a woman all at the same time, but they were: ass,
cunt, tits and two in her mouth, all at once.  She watched for a few moments,
but she wasn't much of a voyeur and shut the computer down.  She much preferred
a more active role.  She flexed her bare feet, enjoying the feel of the tongue
massage they were receiving.

"You may cum now," she said, and began a count down from the number ten.  Just
as she said "two," she heard a low moan from under her desk, followed by a quiet
plopping sound.

"Ma'am, thank you, Ma'am," the naked male slave panted as he crawled out from
under her desk.  He lowered his head and planted gentle kisses on her
stocking-covered feet.

"You may clean up now," she commented, pushing him away with a foot to his
shoulder.  The slave lowered his face to the hardwood floor and carefully licked
up the semen he'd spent.

"Ma'am, is there anything else I may do for you, Ma'am?" he asked when his task
was completed.

"Not right now.  Just go back to your cage and leave me alone." she replied.

"Ma'am, yes, Ma'am," he said, a disappointed tone in his voice.  He'd hoped for
more; perhaps another orgasm, or at least an opportunity to lick his Owner's
hairy pussy.  Sheila made a note to ensure he paid for not showing eagerness in
responding to her.  Two months without an orgasm would probably do, she thought,
leaning back in her chair, watching the slender man's ass as he minced out of
the room, prancing on tiptoes as he was required.  She closed her eyes for a
moment, a smile on her lips as she thought about what was going to happen soon. 
She dozed for about an hour, her mind filled with wonderfully vengeful dreams.

"Ms, Hawthorne?  Ms. Hawthorne?" a voice softly called.  Sheila opened her eyes
to see her petite personal assistant - an employee, not a slave - standing
politely in front of her desk.  "Ma'am, you asked to be informed when your new
slave arrived?"

"She's here?" Sheila yawned.

"Yes, Ma'am," the PA responded, nodding her head.

"Well-fucked?" she asked, cocking an eye at her employee.

"Oh, yes, Ma'am!" the young assistant giggled.  "It's dripping out from
everywhere, Ma'am!"

"Good.  Have her taken to the training room and put on the Sybian.  Tell the
trainer to play with her.  I want her taken to the edge without being permitted
to cum, twenty-four - no - make that forty-eight hours of suffering once she
starts begging to cum, and then twenty-four more hours of constant orgasms.  I
want her so fucked out begs me to not make her cum again.  Oh, and before
anything else, give her to the dogs. I think a twelve hour stint in the kennels
should soften her up."

"Yes, Ma'am," the girl replied, quickly departing to attend to her tasks.

While Janet knelt in front of the front door of Sheila's estate, semen pooling
up on the warm concrete as it dripped out of her bruised body, the slave now
known as "it" was receiving a relatively new and experimental form of hormone
injections which would, within a week, transform her breasts from their current
36B to 48DD.  A side effect of the treatments, originally developed for the
bovine milk industry, was that it would increase the sensitivity of both her
nipples and clitoris, as well as her sexual need.  For the moment, though, "it"
thrashed violently back and forth against its bonds, strapped to a medical exam
table, while a full liter of the burning liquid was injected directly into its
boobs.  The doctor hired by Sheila was pleased to note that the treatment began
to take effect almost immediately, increasing its bust size by a full two inches
in just fifteen minutes.  He realized, though, that most of this was due to the
liquid itself; nearly as much increase would be expected with simple saline
injections.

While waiting to see more results, the doctor began the other modifications
Sheila had directed he perform on the slave.  The simplest of these were
collagen injections into its  facial lips and nipples, causing both to swell
with considerable pain.  No anesthetic was used for this or any of the other
surgeries, ensuring it was in constant agony.  After spreading its damaged
vagina wide open with the largest speculum he could find, the doctor made two
quick incisions which completely disabled its ability to use its cunt muscles at
all.  Sheila also originally wanted its ovaries removed, but the doctor reminded
her that its resale value would be affected, and someone might want to purchase
it as a breeder some day.  Tests did show, after all, that it was in the 90th
percentile for fertility, and even completely disfigured as Sheila expected it
to be, the slave could have some use as a baby factory.

For the slave, the worst was when the doctor spread its anus open and used the
scalpel there, cutting its sphincter muscle in five places.  From now on, it
would never be able to keep from shitting on itself, and anyone using it for
anal sex would find its asshole loose and unresponsive.  If it could screamed,
it would; the oversized penis gag imbedded in the slave's throat allowed it to
only bulge its eyes out as its body was tortured.

A New World

13: In the Bowels of Hell

Nine days later, a haggard, filthy and bruised Janet looked up, cowering in her
tiny cage on the hard concrete floor, to see her Owner - a girl she once
tormented in school - towering over her.  Dressed in black leather and carrying
the same riding crop used to beat Janet's daughter, Sheila was an imposing
figure.  While only five and a half feet tall, she weighed nearly 300 pounds. 
The flab carried at her belly and hips belied her strong, muscular arms and
legs; her true strength, however, came from her sadistic, vengeful nature.

"I'm actually rather surprised you made it this far, skank," Sheila said calmly. 
"Spread your legs and show me." 

Janet moved her knees apart as far as the tiny cage would permit, displaying her
swollen, raw holes. 

"Nice," her Owner commented, reaching between the bars and scraping a bit of
dried semen off the slave's battered thighs with a fingernail.   "All full of
dog cum and cunt juice like a slut should be.  Now, do you still want to be
defiant?  Do you need another session in the kennels, or perhaps with Master
Sybian?"

"No, please...I'll do whatever you want," the defeated woman said softly.

"Fine.  Catch!" she said, tossing a large penis-shaped vibrator to her former
competitor.  "I've never seen a slut like you cum before.  Show me."

Already sore and numb from previous abuse, Janet carefully worked the massive
tool to her groin and began working it over her swollen and chaffed clitoris. 
She quickly reached beyond the pain and brought herself to a mind-numbing
orgasm, but before she could turn the device off, she heard her Owner speak a
single word.

"Again!"

Fifteen times Sheila made her slave cum, until she was begging deliriously. 

"Please, no more," she said behind cracked lips.

"Again, skank!" Sheila commanded.

"No more, please," she babbled.  "No more."

"Are you begging me, saying you don't want any more orgasms, skank?"

"Yes, please, no more!" she sobbed.

"Okay," Sheila said with an evil smile as she slid a tiny metal device between
her slave's splayed legs.  Janet's screech of agony reverberated off the cinder
block walls as her swollen clitoris was snipped off at the base, an electrical
charge in the snip's capacitor providing the impetus necessary to cauterize the
wound.  There was very little blood.

"Now you don't have to worry about cumming anymore," Sheila said gaily, watching
her property writhe in torment.

"You know, because you failed in your first task, there was really no reason for
you to show up at all.  Since you did, though, I thought it might be nice to let
you witness the beginning of your slut daughter's death.  She's getting prepared
right now, so come on and let's go see it.  Hell, I might even let you drip the
acid into her eyes."

"Please, Sheila!" the naked woman begged as her Owner dragged her out of the
cage by the hair.  Sheila's immediate response was to slam the slave's face into
the concrete floor, immediately breaking her nose and cracking one of her front
teeth.

"You fucking skank!" Sheila screamed.  "How dare you use my name!  You're
nothing but a slave, a piece of dogshit, not worthy of even speaking to me!"

"I'm sorry," Janet sobbed as the blood from her nostrils flowed down into her
mouth. 

"If you want to address me, skank, you will refer to me as "Beautiful Owner." 
That's your name now - 'skank' - got it?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the cowering woman mumbled, then let loose a blood-curding howl as
Sheila's crop repeatedly lashed down across her face.

"You really are a stupid fuck, aren't you skank!" she screamed.  "I just told
you what my fucking name was to you, and you can't get it right?"  She continued
to beat the supine woman until her face was covered in bloody stripes from the
leather-covered wire whip.  "Now, answer me correctly, skank!  Do you
understand?"

"I understand, Beautiful Owner!" skank blubbered, blood running down her
thrashed face.

"NO!" Again the crop beat down, this time across the slave's shoulders and back
of her neck.  "You are not an 'I,' you are 'skank.'  Try it again, you stupid
fuck!"

"Skank...skank understands, Beautiful Owner!" she cried.

"Just so there are no misunderstandings, exactly what is it that the skank
understands?" Sheila asked sarcastically.

"Skank understands that skank is skank's name, and that skank's Owner's name is
'Beautiful Owner," skank replied, weeping.

"Good.  You seem to understand a few simple things.  Perhaps I won't need to
waste the money training you like I did your slut of a daughter.  Come on, I
have something to show you.  Heel!" Sheila commanded, slipping a metal choke
chain around skank's bruised neck and leading her off at a fast pace.  Skank
struggled to keep up, twice falling to her belly as her tortured knees gave out
as she was crawling up and down the marble stairs and into a dark, narrow
hallway.  The sound of her Owner's heels reverberated off the walls, the only
other noise being muffled moans from behind the locked doors lining corridor.
Finally, Sheila stopped and unlocked one of the heavy metal, jail-like steel
doors, swinging it open, then took skank's chin in her hand and forced to her to
look.

From her position on the floor, skank examined the sight before her.  Bound to
an X-frame was a naked, obviously distressed man, his shaved body covered with
welts from recent whippings.  Kneeling on the cold floor before him, a similarly
naked female bearing distinct signs of physical abuse herself, slowly worked her
mouth over his bright red, painfully swollen cock while he moaned; whether in
agony or ecstasy, skank couldn't tell.   A masked woman dressed from head to toe
in black leather stood by, watching intently. 

"Recognize anyone, dear?" Sheila asked sarcastically.  That was when skank
realized the beaten, naked man was her husband - and then with a shock of
horror, recognized her own daughter as being the girl teasing his cock.

"He hasn't cum in three days, ever since he got here," Sheila explained
matter-of-factly.  "The slave has instructions to keep his cock hard without
letting him have an orgasm, and every time he comes close, my assistant squirts
him with pepper spray.  Sometimes in the face, sometimes on his pathetic little
pecker, but no matter, if he cums all three of them will be punished.  I want
him to work up a good load of froth in his balls; I have use for it later. 
Okay, enough lollygagging, skank.  We have other things to do."  Sheila yanked
on the leash, pulling skank off balance and causing her head to strike the heavy
metal door as it slammed shut.

"Let me explain what is going on, skank," Sheila stated, yanking the slave's
leash and forcing her to crawl, talking as they moved down the hall.  "You
weren't willing to do what I asked, so I had to make other arrangements as far
as getting your husband here.  I've decided to spare your slut daughter's life -
for now - but only because I'm going to make all three of you suffer even more. 
But if any of you fuck up, one of the others will get the treatment I promised
to your daughter.  Got it?"

"Skank understands, shank's beautiful Owner," the cowering woman mumbled through
broken teeth, her head still pounding from hitting the door.  Her mind was in
turmoil, the fatigue from managing only a few hours sleep in nearly a week and a
half causing her to tremble in exhaustion.  Her mind was unable to comprehend
the difference between reality and hallucination at this point; Sheila
understood, and was prepared.

"Would skank like a nap now?" she asked sadistically.  Skank wasn't aware of
much at this point other than exhaustion.

"Yes, please, Beautiful Owner," she said expectantly.

"One more task and you can have your nap, then.  Come on, don't dally!"

Sheila tugged on the leash, leading her new slave further down the corridor and
outside into a fenced yard.  It was bleak, without grass or trees for shade,
simply a dirt courtyard adjoining the slave cells.

"When slaves are obedient, they are allowed exercise out here, thirty minutes a
day on their free time.  Unfortunately, I've had to close the yard because I'm
having the kennels refurbished and needed a place to keep the dogs.  You know
how those slaves are; if I put them out here together, they'd be fucking the
dogs all day long.  We can't have that at all, so it's been closed for the past
four months.  The other problem I have is that so many of the slaves think
they're being starved that they'll eat anything.  That's why there's no grass
here, because they'd graze like little naked sheep.  So, before I let them come
out again, I need the yard cleaned.  I figure there's about ninety piles of dog
shit scattered about," she said, waving with her hand.  "You're going to crawl
to each turd, pick it up in your mouth and drop it in the bucket over there. 
When the yard is clean, you can sleep."

Skank looked up at her Owner in horror, shaking her head.

"I can't!" she cried mournfully.

"Oh, you can and you will!  Otherwise, someone close to you gets that little
acid and AIDS treatment that I promised, and I have a special punishment already
decided for you if that happens.  I understand a couple of the dogs took a
special liking to you; I think a marriage ceremony might be nice.  We could
rename you Fido's Whore.  Haha...it might be funny seeing a litter of pups
sucking at those saggy tits of yours, thinking you're their mama!"

Skank lowered her head in shame, then slowly crawled to the first small pile of
dog crap.  Thankfully, she thought, it was old and hard.  She bent her head down
and carefully took it between her teeth before crawling back to the bucket and
letting it drop.  The second and third piles were similarly old, though the
fourth wasn't quite as hard.  As she carefully bit down, her teeth broke through
the thin crust, the softer inner portion - the consistency of peanut butter -
coating her lips.  Skank gagged and quickly spat out the turd, then glanced over
at where Sheila was sitting, watching with a grin on her fat face.

"Acid and AIDS, skank, acid and AIDS," was all she had to say to convince the
woman to return to her disgusting task.

It took skank over an hour to clean the yard, but she finally accomplished it. 
Several of the dog turds were fresh - just minutes old - with flies swarming
over them, and she very nearly vomited when she had to pick up an older one
crawling with maggots.  She knew the consequences, and as a mother, still had
the instinct to do whatever she could to protect her offspring - even though she
realized Sheila would do as she wished with all of them anyway, regardless
whether she was docile or rebellious.  Finally, though, she was permitted to
curl up in a corner of the dirt yard and fall quickly into a stuporous sleep.

While skank spent her time filling her mouth with dog crap, things were a little
better for the other slave and its father, though not much.  Their incestuous
oral copulation was performed under the watchful eye of a particularly sadistic
member of Sheila's work force.  Whenever either of them appeared to be slacking
off, or whenever his dick started to droop even slightly, one or both of them
would be subjected to painful electric shocks.  In his case, the torture was
administered through a large metal-studded butt plug at one end and a steel ring
squeezing his scrotum at the other.  In the case of the female, sharp alligator
clips on its clitoris and both nipples ensured solid contact.  It had been
nearly 50 hours since the slaves had been given any respite; his cock was raw
and swollen, just as her lips were.  Neither had been permitted anything to
drink other than a few swallows of cold piss, but at least the daughter had been
able to suck several drops of its father's pre-cum before pulling back to
prevent him from having the orgasm he so desperately wanted.  Even the knowledge
that this was his own daughter kneeling between his legs did nothing to prevent
him from thrusting his hips forward, silently begging for that one last touch
which would send him off into its mouth.  Each time, though, he was rewarded
with an increasingly painful jolt of electricity flowing between his burning
rectum and swollen testes.  Finally, though, even this was becoming ineffective;
the father's cock was constantly dripping fluid now, and even the highest
setting on the torture device failed to affect the swelling.  The two slaves
were separated.

The male left hanging where he was, the plug in his ass unceremoniously ripped
out and presented to his mouth for cleaning.  Resistant at first, several raps
on his still-throbbing cock with a crop quickly convinced him to open his mouth
and allow the plug to replace the penis gag.  Locked in place, the unnamed slave
formerly known as Bill could do nothing but accept the shit-covered tool,
closing his mouth over it as it was secured with a strip of duct tape.

As bad as things were for Bill, they were becoming much worse for his daughter. 
A quick medical examination revealed that it would be another two weeks before
it was fertile - this was important for the next segment of Sheila's plan - so a
decision was made to accelerate the schedule for further modifications to its
body.  That it wouldn't be completely healed by then was of no concern.  Surgery
would begin immediately.

The first step was simple; its Achilles tendons being shortened and ankles
modified so that when it was permitted to stand upright, it would find it
impossible to do so in anything less than a six inch heel.  Sheila had actually
given thought to having the tendons behind the slave's knees severed so that it
would only be able to crawl, but decided this would further limit the fun she
could have with her new teen slut.  This modification, like all the others, was
done without anesthesia; in fact, it was given amphetamines in order to ensure
it remained awake and fully aware of the pain being inflicted. 

The next phase was just as simple, but considerably more painful for the slave. 
While being subjected to suction treatment, its clitoral hood was carefully
split open and then removed, exposing its most sensitive body part.  After
injection of a latex fluid designed to keep it erect, causing the slave's
swollen button stood out nearly a full inch, a titanium ring was pierced through
it.  Through the coming weeks, weights of increasing size would be hung from the
ring, causing its clit to eventually extend past its cunt lips.  While the slave
was able to stifle itself during the ankle operation, it screamed silently
behind the ball gag while its clitoris was being worked on.

Finally, a concoction of growth hormones combined with the slave's own fat - it
had been removed during her initial medical examination at the training facility
- was injected directly into the slave's breasts, which began to immediately
swell.  Within a week, it would have a chest to put a professional stripper to
shame, at least 52EE according to the laboratory projections.  Once the growth
was completed, the same fluid used on its clitoris would be injected into the
slave's nipples, ensuring they would be constantly erect.  Along with its 28"
waist, nobody would think of this slave as anything but a sexual playtoy, with
tits made for fucking, sucking or just slapping around.

During the ensuing two weeks, a sort of monotonous routine set in for all three
slaves.  "It" remained bound to its bed, a mirror on the ceiling above it
allowing it to see the mockery of the female form that its body was rapidly
becoming.  Watching its breasts continue to grow, feeling the pain as the
swollen tissue stretched the skin nearly to the breaking point, the slave could
only lay there, its naked body on display.  Only the daily, humiliating medical
examination and twice daily feeding interrupted the boredom.  Regular
manipulation of its now-healing clitoris kept it hot and wanton, and had the
penis gag not been fully in place, it would have begged for release.  Immobile
and fed intravenously, all it could do was lay motionless and pray for an
orgasm.

Its father was going through his own personal Hell, too.  He discovered that the
frame to which he was bound was adjustable; every few hours, he was bent double. 
Male after male would then assault his until-then virgin ass, filling his bowels
with semen.  A devout homophobic, he refused to open his mouth when the first
shit-covered cock was placed at his lips; a painful squeeze on his testicles
quickly changed his mind.  The only nourishment he was permitted was that he was
able to suck and lick from the dicks of his abusers.

In retrospect, skank probably had the easiest go of it, though it's doubtful she
would have thought so.  Shackled and chained by the ankle to a bed, she serviced
customer after customer while under the supervision of a particularly sadistic
Overseer.  If she failed to make the right sounds at the right time, if she
displayed any reluctance or hesitation and doing anything demanded of her, she
was beaten. Nor was she permitted to simply lay there and accept the abuses; no,
she was required to participate, to take an active role.  The shock collar
assured that regardless what her abusers wanted, she accommodated them without
compliant.  They arrived at a constant flow, one after another for the entire
two weeks, her only reprieve being two breaks per day of  two hour each, during
which she was fed, rinsed off and permitted a few minutes of restless sleep.  By
the time the ordeal was over, she'd been fucked more in that two weeks than in
her entire life up to that point. 

Finally, the time arrived.  "It" was at the most fertile point in its cycle, and
testing showed it had not one, but two, eggs ripe for impregnation. 
Preparations for the big event were complicated, but not overly so.

Still bound tightly to its hospital bed, the young female slave was wheeled into
a large, sterile-looking room.  The walls and ceilings were covered in mirrors,
hiding the recording equipment not so much from those inside the room as from
the other cameras; it simply wouldn't do to have cameras and recorders visible
in the edited version, which would be made available to the paying public. 
Though a full fifty cameras were positioned to record every nuance of the coming
event, not a single one would be visible in the end product.

The performance itself began when the physician who had been treating "it"
entered the room and provided a single numbing shot to the bound slave's groin. 
Although it would feel nothing and be completely numb between its legs, the
injection also ensured a copious flow of vaginal fluids, as well as periodic
muscular spasms which would serve to entice orgasm from the male about to
impregnate it.

The male, of course, was its very own biological father, wheeled in on his own
bondage frame, his body covered with angry red welts and cuts from the frequent
whippings he'd received during the week.  It looked at him in horror, staring at
the immensely swollen member sticking out from between his legs.  It appeared to
be much larger than it had been when it had been forced to suck on it, and
seemed to be drooling clear fluid from the head.  It could see where dry cock
juice glistened and cracked on his thighs; what it wasn't aware of was that much
of that was from other men.

The triad was made complete when skank crawled in, being led at the end of
Sheila's leash.  She, too, appeared beaten and broken, her eyes deep sockets
surrounded by huge black rings of fatigue.  She crawled slowly, stuporously, her
mind still not comprehending what her tired eyes were seeing.  Sheila bent down
and whispered something into skank's ear; she nodded in a resigned sort of way.

The male slave - still without a name - was positioned with his ankles and
wrists bound to his daughters, a leather strap around his waist keeping his
midsection hoisted.  Carefully he was positioned until the head of his throbbing
cock was mere millimeters from the entrance to his daughter's womb.  A thin wire
noose was placed loosely around his testicles, loose enough to not interfere
with the violation of his own daughter, but tight enough that it wouldn't fall
off.  The end was attached to a ring in the bed between his daughter's knees,
which was further connected to a small but powerful electric motor.  Once thus
prepared, the strap was released and the man's belly fell onto his daughter's,
his cock penetrating her cunt as easily as a butterfly through the spring
breeze.

Although it was unable to feel any sensations from that part of its body, the
contractions of its cunt muscles were unlike anything its father had felt
before.  To him, it felt as though his daughter was milking his cock like a
farmer would a cow, and after almost three weeks of constant stimulation without
relief, he quickly exploded deeply inside her moist sheath with the largest,
most intense orgasm he'd ever felt.  As his semen shot inside his daughter's
fertile womb, he saw nothing but stars amidst the blackness, first from ecstasy
and then from intense pain. 

The order Sheila had whispered to skank was carried out; as she saw her husband
cum, she counted to five and then pressed the button activating the motor.  The
thin wire tightened and then sliced through his scrotum, causing his testicles
to fall with a soft plop to the table between their daughter's legs.  His brief
scream of suffering was interrupted almost immediately, as he fell into
pain-filled unconsciousness.  He was quickly removed by two large attendants,
one of whom placed a compress on his bleeding groin.

Skank was led from the room, docilely crawling as her mind battled among the two
conflicting thoughts: that she'd just performed the most despicable act on her
own husband, and actually received some little bit of satisfaction from knowing
he'd paid for his earlier reticence through the sacrifice of his most prized
possession.  Strangely, any thoughts of her daughter were absent.

It instinctively knew it was pregnant, even before the lab tests came back
positive.  After its father gave it the last semen he would ever produce, it was
repositioned on its knees, face down and ass elevated, in order to allow the
sperm to use gravity rather than fighting against it.  It somehow sensed when
the coupling of sperm and egg occurred - twice - she understood.  Perhaps it was
some sort of psychic power that told it, or a type of inborn instinct, but it
knew there were two lives within its womb now.

From that point on, its life was slightly better.  Every the businesswoman,
Sheila knew the value of slave babies and had no intention of having it deliver
anything less than healthy twins.  It was placed on a nutritious, albeit
tasteless diet of the same slave gruel it had been fed at the center, and its
duties were primarily light housekeeping.  It had three two-hour exercise
periods each day, but other than that and occasional use for oral sex, it was
left alone.

Its father - renamed "dickless," though that wasn't entirely true - was sold to
a discounter.  He was, of course, useless as a breeder (not that he was all that
particularly virile when his balls were attached anyway), and as someone used to
working in an office, there wasn't much he was suited for.  It soon became
apparent there wasn't going to be a rush at the door to buy him, so the shop
owner offered him out on a rental basis.  For a few dollars a day, dickless
could be rented out for whatever task was desired.  There wasn't much interest,
other than from a couple of bars who wanted someone to clean cocks and cunts
after fucking, but didn't want the expense of upkeep.  After two years, the
discounter gave up and simply set him free; he'd never officially been
registered as a slave anyway, and now he was homeless, penniless and without
identification.  Unable to work legally, he ended up working in an underground
gay leather establishment, serving drinks while wearing a tiny pink tutu, and
taking the occasional dick in his mouth or ass for a few extra dollars.

Skank fared little better, though Sheila kept her around just for amusement, at
least until the babies came.  Each week, it seemed to skank, her Owner would
have a new idea, something even more diabolical than the previous week.  First
it was having her teeth yanked out, ostensibly because someone had complained
about them; in reality, skank hadn't been used orally by the supposed
complainer.  Next was the hysterectomy - totally needless, since she'd already
passed menopause - followed by having her gash sewn closed.  Sheila even loaned
skank to a tattoo and piercing school, to be used for practice by those hoping
to excel at the trade.  When not recovering from one of these excruciatingly
painful events, skank spent her time on hands and knees, scrubbing floors,
showers and even the sidewalk in front of Sheila's mansion.  Skank particularly
hated scrubbing the sidewalk, as anyone passing by was permitted - even
encouraged - to use her for their sexual gratification.  Unable to obtain any
pleasure herself, yet forced to display wanton delight at being used, was the
most humiliating factor in skank's life to date.

As it's belly began to swell, the pregnant slave's name was changed once again,
this time to "fat piggy fuck," though Sheila and the others usually just called
her "piggy."  As degrading as the name was, piggy was happy just to have a name,
rather than just being an "it."  A name was something she could hold on to
mentally, something that was almost hers even though it could be taken away at
any time.  Her demeanor even brightened somewhat, to the point that she was
almost - not quite, but nearly - content and perhaps even a bit happy as she
toiled at her daily tasks.

As the babies inside her grew, those tasks began to change.  No longer was she
required to ride the stationary bicycle - it's dildo seat imbedded in one of her
holes - twenty miles a day.  No longer did she eat off the floor like an animal,
but while seated in a hard metal folding chair, using a spoon for the first time
in over a year.  The only real hardships she endured were sleeping on the hard
cage floor and being constantly in ankle restraints.  It was the leg shackles
that she disliked the most; with only ten inches of slack, walking from one
point to another only accentuated her pregnant, barefoot waddle.  By now,
according to the doctor, the two babies weighed in at nearly 20 pounds between
them; the boy was over eleven pounds, and the girl just under eight.  He'd
recommended a Caesarian procedure to Sheila, but she was adamant.

"The brats will be born vaginally, and there will be no anaesthesia," she
directed.

A few weeks after her pronouncement, they were.  Piggy panted heavily as the
contractions washed over her, screaming in agony as the first child's head, then
shoulders forced their way to freedom.  Fortunately, the girl was born first,
allowing piggy's body to prepare for the larger boy.  Still, she could feel no
difference as the second twin was born.  Laying bound wrist and ankle to the
sterile hospital bed, all she could do was gasp for air  while blood soaked the
sheets under her.

"Did you get a chance to look at them?" Sheila asked, her face directly above
piggy's.

"No, Ma'am," the slave panted.  "May I, Ma'am?"

"Aww...I'm sorry, little piggy," she grinned.  "Those two little brats you've
been carrying in your cunt were just sold to a pedophile.  Maybe after they're
all used up...say in five or six years..." 

Piggy began to sob uncontrollably.  Regardless of the means by which she'd
become pregnant, these two babies were a part of her.  She knew she'd never be
able to hold them now, to touch or comfort them; it was as though a large part
of her soul had just died.

After being permitted three days to recover, piggy resumed her regular duties. 
Everyone could tell she was changed, though, that her heart wasn't in it.  She
was no longer living, but simply existing.  Whenever she was used for sex, it
was purely mechanical with no passion whatsoever.  When she ate, there was no
emotion, whether she was fed a bit of steak or a bowl of rabbit droppings, she
did it automaton-like.  The other aspects of her life were the same.  If one
were to look into her eyes, they would have seen nothing but empty holes staring
back. 

Finally, with skank fully broken and Sheila was having no fun at all with piggy
anymore, she decided to sell them both.

14: Renewal

Neither of the slaves, of course, were told where they were going or who they
were being sold to.  As a matter of fact, they weren't even being told they were
sold.  All they knew is that they were being crated up for shipment somewhere,
and for all they knew, it could have been to anywhere, for any reason. 
Instinctively, though, they both knew.  Sheila had stopped tormenting them some
time ago, and had pretty much ignored them for several weeks.

For piggy, the crating process was a virtual copy of how she'd been shipped to
Sheila's estate; for skank, it was an entirely new, frightening experience. 
There were a few significant changes; this time, strong duct tape (rather than
normal transport restraints) were used to bind them.  Each slave had her arms
bound behind her back, several loops of tape around the wrists, forearms and
elbows, causing immense pain that would only be exacerbated by the long wait
until arrival at their destination.  Pneumatic ball gags were used this time,
placed in their mouths and slowly inflated until their jaws reached the maximum
possible angle. 

Here their treatments differed.  One of Sheila's many female assistants forced
fat piggy fuck's legs apart and began tormenting the slave's clitoris, scraping
it with a sharp, manicured fingernail.  Once piggy was showing clear signs of
arousal - sharply deepened breathing, and erect clitoris and wet vagina - an
electronic egg was shoved inside her cunt.  Receiving input from the slave chip
implanted so long ago, it would alternate between a soft, humming vibration
designed to keep piggy close to orgasm, and a painful electric shock
administered each time it detected her reaching the brink.  Once in place,
piggy's legs were taped together in several places.  Sheila watched in amusement
while the young slave squirmed on the floor in pleasure, then silently screamed
behind her gag as the shock was administered.

Since skank  no longer possessed a clitoris and a vibrator would accomplish
nothing, a different sort of torture was necessary.  In her case, after a two
quart enema (which she was not permitted to expel), her asshole was filled with
a butt plug and then her legs were taped similarly to her daughters.  The
jalapeno oils in the enema fluid ensured a most uncomfortable journey.

Once both females were prepared and bound, they were each placed in separate
galvanized steel shipping containers, which were then securely locked closed,
leaving them in complete darkness.  Piggy and skank both noticed a sickly sweet
odor just before they both fell unconscious.

When piggy arrived at her destination, she was alone.  Her mother had been
delivered to another purchaser already, though she was unaware of this fact,
still bound inside the steel shipping box, aware only of the soft humming of the
vibrator and the puddle forming on the floor of the box beneath her swollen,
torturously aroused cunt.  She laid there for several hours, the box resting in
the hot sun on the front porch of her new Owner's home.  Finally, as the sun
began to set - she could tell it was turning to evening, because the sides of
the crate were beginning to cool as the sun set - she heard muffled noises, then
a slight jarring as a furniture dolly was slipped under the crate.  It was
wheeled inside the house, and the motion stopped.  Piggy could hear the rattle
of keys as someone began unlocking the padlocks securing the box, and then the
lid was lifted.  Piggy grimaced as the bright light blinded her momentarily, the
change from the absolute darkness of the box actually being somewhat painful. 
She kept her eyes closed as a pair of hands reached under her shoulders, lifting
her out and onto a soft, carpeted floor.  Unable to kneel bound as she was, she
toppled over to her side, panting as she breathed in the fresh air and carefully
began opening her eyes.

What she saw at first was puzzling, and a curious frown crossed her face. 
Initially, it was just a blur, a blob that slowly began to take on facial
features, directly in front of her face.  As things began to focus, she could
make out a mouth, with a wide grin on it.  She shuddered involuntarily,
believing the grin to be a sadistic one and cringing at what tortures might be
in store for her.  The person unfastened the gag, allowing her to exercise her
jaws while she tried to focus her eyes better.  She blinked her eyes again, and
the vision became clearer and clearer, until she could finally identify the
person looking at her.

"Billy?" she gasped.  "I mean...Master?" 

Billy Peterson, two years younger and a year behind her in school - when she
attended school, in her previous life, that is.  She always thought of him as
cute, but in an annoying way.  Whenever they had classes together, he'd try to
sit as close to her as possible, and she often caught him staring at her -
particularly her legs, whenever she wore something short.  She almost giggled at
that thought; she used to worry about Billy trying to get an eyeful of her
panties, and now she was laying at his feet, naked and helpless, with a vibrator
stuffed up her pussy making her hornier than she ever remembered! 
Remembering...oh, my God, she thought...Billie is Kathy's brother!

Kathy's younger brother.  Kathy, who had so abused her at the class prom!

"Correct on both counts....uh...'fat piggy fuck,' the papers say your name is. 
I don't think a name like that will do, but we'll worry about that later."

"Master, this slave belongs to you?"  she exclaimed, still in a state of shock.

"No, not really...uh...piggy.  God I hate that name.  Okay....fuck it, I'm just
going to call you 'Sheri.'  I want you to know I didn't have anything to do with
what happened at the prom, or making you a slave.  I know everyone involved in
that, though, and they're all going to pay for their conspiracy."

"Master, sheri doesn't understand, Master."

"That's okay, you don't have to.  But the name Sheri...it's not going to work,
either.  Sheri was a girl I was in love with, only I don't think she noticed. 
Even when they brought her back to the school that night, I couldn't bring
myself to use her like that.  She probably didn't even notice that I was there,
did she?"

"Master..uh...no, Master," sheri answered.  "This slave was a bit...uh...busy,"
she replied, blushing.  "It's a little difficult paying much attention to
anything other than the prick inside you when something like that is happening. 
Uh, Master, could you please...uh..."  She motioned towards her groin, her legs
starting to spasm uncontrollably again as she started to reach orgasm, another
electrical jolt causing her to stiffen and bite down on her lower lip, breaking
the skin.

"Shit, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, thinking she was talking about the
uncomfortable position she was bound in.  He took out a penknife and quickly cut
the duct tape, allowing her to gingerly remove the sticky tape from her own
body.

"I can understand that you wouldn't have seen me at the prom," he laughed,
gently massaging his slave's wrists.  "Would you believe someone was there
keeping a tally?  210 different people used your body that weekend, and between
fucking, sucking and pussy lapping, you were used almost 600 times? "

"No, Master, this slave did not know, Master," she replied, blushing even more
now, realizing her Owner had a complete record of who she'd fucked, in what
manner, and how they rated her abilities.  He was still two years younger, so
his knowledge of all this embarrassed her greatly.

"What's this?" he suddenly asked, noticing the wire hanging down from the
vibrating egg inside sheri's vagina.  She explained quickly, telling him that
all he had to do was flip the switch to high and she'd go off like a rocket.

"Really?" he said.  "I've never seen a girl cum before."  Sheri lowered her
submissively, hoping he would take advantage of her current state.  Then she
knew she had to ask.

"Master, please forgive your slave for asking, but are you a virgin? 
Please...if I have offended you, please punish me, but I'd like to know," she
cowered, almost not believing she'd blurted the question out.

"Um..." he hesitated.  "Well, you probably know I've had a few girlfriends." 
Sheri nodded, remembering.  "But to answer your question, no, I've never had sex
with a girl."

"Oh. Master, may this slave beg to be your first?" she asked, welling in pride
at the notion that this boy, who she'd hardly noticed before, thought to much of
her to not only save her from whoever her original Owner was, but offer her his
virginity.

"Yes, but later, I think.  Right now, it looks like you have a problem, and I'd
like to see you take care of it," he grinned.

"Master?"

.

"I've decided I'm not going to take the egg out, and you're not going to be
permitted to turn it up.  I want you to sit there on the floor and use your
fingers to get yourself off," he said, giving his new slave her first true
commands.

"Master, yes, Master!"  Sheri had never been more pleased to obey a command in
her life, hesitating only to ask what position he'd like her to be in.

"I think sitting with your legs spread apart," he told her.  "I'd like to see
your face when you cum."

Sheri immediately spun her legs out from underneath her butt, positioning
herself with her ass flat on the ground and her legs spread as far as she could
get them, facing her Master so that he was right at the apex and able to look
directly into her wet, gaping cunt.  Leaning back slightly, she put her left
hand on the floor behind her, using her arm as a prop to hold her torso fairly
upright, and began using the fingers of her right hand to attack her swollen
gash.  For his part, Billy sat back, amazed at the view in front of him, never
imagining he'd have a slave of his own - let alone the girl of his dreams -
masturbating so wantonly in front of his eyes.

"Master, sheri is going to cummmm..." she said through clenched teeth.  "Do you
want her to be quiet or loud?" she gasped.

"I don't really think you're going to have a choice," he replied with a sadistic
grin on his face.  Sheri looked up wide-eyed as he reached over and flipped the
egg - still imbedded deeply inside her - to high.  Now it was Billy's turn to
become wide-eyed, watching in amazement as the naked teen's ass bounced
frantically on the floor, fingers rapidly flicking her visibly swollen clitoris,
as she screamed out with the most tremendous orgasm of her young life.  He let
her go on for nearly three minutes, watching her go through spasm after spasm,
before finally flipping the machine off.  Still, sheri continued to work her
sopping slit over, rubbing the pad of her index finger over it in small, quick
circles, occasionally flicking it with a fingernail.  Billy watched his slave
have two more, albeit smaller, orgasms.

"Master, please?" sheri gasped.

"What?" he answered.

"Master, may the slave please stop?   It hurts!!" she whined.

"Oh, I'm sorry...I didn't realize," he stammered.  "Yes, of course, by all
means.  I thought you were going on because you liked it so much."

"Oh, Master," she cooed, "I do like it, but when a slave is told to do
something, she continues until she's told to stop.  You told me to get myself
off, so that's what I did, Master."

"Thanks for explaining.  I'll be more careful next time," he replied.

"Oh, please don't, Master.  I loved it!" she admitted.

"Okay, well, it looks like I have some reading to do," he said.  "Some sort of
"owner's manual" and your training records, I guess.  It's getting late, so why
don't you go see if you can whip up something for dinner?"

"Master, yes, Master," sheri said, almost disappointed that he wasn't going to
ravage her right then and there.  "Master, what would you like your slave to
prepare?"

"Oh, I dunno," he replied offhandedly, thumbing through sheri's record. 
"Whatever we have enough of for both of us."  Sheri blinked in amazement.

"Master, oh, thank you, Master!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his
feet as she pronated herself before him.

"Huh?" he asked, surprised at her outburst.

"Real food for me, Master?  It's been so long."  At his query, she explained how
she'd been fed little but the paste-like gruel, and little enough of that to
make sure she was always hungry.

"That really bothers me, sheri," he said contemplatively.  "Someone like you
shouldn't be starving.  It's not like you're fat or anything, and as long as you
live with me, you can eat whenever you feel like it."

"Really, Master?" she asked, astounded.

"Really.  Now, go find something for us while I read."

"Yes, Master!" she said, scampering happily into the kitchen to find something
for their dinner while Billy perused the two manuals that had accompanied the
shipping documents.

"Master!  Dinner!" sheri called barely a half hour later.  Billy got up from the
couch and walked into the dining nook.

"I hope you don't mind, Master," sheri explained, "but it's been so long since
I've had any of this."

"No, it looks fine," he laughed, "but don't you think you overdid it a bit?"  He
looked down to see not only the table set, but both meals already served.  Each
of them had two large slices of ham steak, two cobs of corn, a huge portion of
macaroni and cheese, peas, green beans, sliced tomato and cucumber salad, and a
large, ice-filled glass of cola.  "I'm not sure either of us is going to be able
to finish this!"

"Well then, Master, I guess you'll just have to make me eat the leftovers for
breakfast!"  They both laughed.  Sheri sat down after her Master, and began
attacking her food with her fingers.

"What are you doing, Sheri?" he asked.

"Master, I'm sorry...you know how we at ate the center, don't you?"  He nodded,
having seen the pictures.  "I guess I'm not used to eating like a human being. 
Master, may I be excused to go sit in my crate as punishment, Master?"

"What?  No," he answered surprised.  "Just go into the kitchen and get yourself
a place setting, then come back and eat.  I meant what I said.  You will never
go hungry again."

Sheri scampered into the kitchen and quickly back, sitting back down and
awkwardly working the utensils.  It took her a few minutes to regain her skill,
and at first she reminded Billy of a toddler learning how to eat with a spoon. 
Soon she had it well under control, though, and to Billy's amazement, completely
cleaned her plate.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked as she shoveled the last fork full into her
mouth.  Unable to talk with her mouth full, sheri simply nodded, looking at her
Master adoringly.

"Yes, Master," she answered after wiping her mouth with a napkin. Then she
realized why he was so concerned.  "Uh, Master...permission to use to toilet,
Master?" she blurted urgently.

"Huh...yes, please...and you don't have to ask!"  Before the last words were out
of his mouth, his slave had already bolted down the hall to the bathroom.  He
almost gagged as he heard the sound of her bowels violently expelling itself
into the porcelain fixture.  He waited a moment, then walked down the hall and
closed the bathroom door.

"Master, did I do something wrong, Master?" sheri asked from behind the door.

"No, I just thought you might like some privacy.  You were in such a hurry, you
forgot to close the door."

"Oh, Master...that's so silly!" she giggled.  "Slaves don't have any right to
privacy.  Didn't they tell you that in the book? "

"Yeah, well, I still can't think of you that way," he answered, walking back. 
His appetite was ruined now, so he sat down to read some more.  Sheri returned
from the toilet momentarily, quickly cleaning the table, then washing the dishes
and straightening the kink.  Billy's reading was interrupted only when he would
occasionally mutter a quiet, "Damn!"

"Master, I'm done," sheri announced, coming out and kneeling naked at her
Master's side, awaiting is next command.

"They really made you fuck dogs?" he abruptly asked after a few minutes.

"Yes, Master," she answered.

"Damn."

"I guess you got fucked a lot, didn't you?"

"Yes, Master," she replied quietly.  "Probably five or six times a day on
average, sometimes more.  When I was a prostitute, I guess maybe 40 times a day
maybe?"  He just whistled, continuing to read.

"According to this, you've had at least 1,200 different men in a little over a
year, not counting the time you were sent to that pimp.  It says you took over
5,000...well, it says 'loads of cum' in the totals box. That's like...what..."
he said, quickly calculating, "...a little over ten a day?"

"I don't know, Master.  I wasn't required to keep count, but that number
wouldn't surprise me," she admitted.  He put the book down and looked down at
her, a smile on his face.

"So, you any good?"

"Is Master implying he'd like to find out?" she asked with a coy grin.

"No, Master is implying he wants to take his slave into his bedroom and have her
fuck his eyeballs out."  Both of them laughed.

"Master, how many this slave please you, Master?" she replied, returning the
smile.   With that, Billy took his new slave by the hand and led her into his
bedroom.

"Wow," Billy commented, seeing his property splayed out in front of him.  "You
know, you've been naked ever since you got here, but I never really noticed how
beautiful you are."  The comment elicited a deep blush from the slave, currently
laying on her back with her legs spread, allowing her Master full access to her
body as he explored it.  She flinched slightly as his finger found her erect
clitoris among the folds.

"I'm sorry...did that hurt?" he asked, concerned.

"No, Master, it was wonderful.  That was my clit.  I'm sorry if you already know
this stuff, but when you touch it  - especially when I'm all excited and wet - I
can go off like a rocket."

"That's what you were playing with before, wasn't it?" he asked, peeling skin
back and peering in for a closer look.  "Smells wonderful."

"Oh, Master, you shouldn't do that!" she squealed as his tongue lapped a stripe
from her perineum to the tip of her slit.  "It's not proper for a Master to go
down on his slave!"

"You mean you've never had a man lick your pussy before?"  She shook her head.

"No, Master, only other slaves," she panted as he gave her another licking.

"So that means, at least in one way, you're still a virgin...and I'm going to be
the one to  take that from you!  Your first cum from being eaten out by your
Master!"

Sheri wanted to laugh, but found herself simply trying to hold on as her Master
gave her the oral ride of her life.  After he discovered how she responded to
having her clit sucked on gently while being flicked with his tongue, he
tortured her to ecstacy.  She came even more violently than before, saturating
both her Master's face and the bedding beneath her with her juices.  When it was
over, she was nearly unconscious.  She lay there, panting, until she realized
her Master was about to enter her.

"Master, not yet!" she squealed, squirming out from under her.

"What, you're not ready?" he exclaimed with a laugh.  "What's wrong?"

"Master, the slave is so wet, she's afraid her Master won't be able to feel
anything.  Please allow her to dry out a little, please, Master?  Your slave
wants her Master's first time to be...well, the best he'll ever have!"  He
thought that one over for a moment, watching the fluids literally seep out of
Sheri's distended lips.

"Okay, but do you think you can do it with your fingers?" he asked.  "You know,
stick a finger or two inside, then lick them off, and keep doing that until your
kinda dry?"

"Yes, Master, of course, but I think I'll just keep getting wetter and wetter if
I do that, Master."

"Okay, wait a minute," he said.  "Just lay there and air dry until I get back." 
Billy scrambled off the bed, coming back a few minutes later.  "I found them!"
he announced.  "A pair of my sisters panties!"  He reached between his slave's
splayed legs and started wiping the wetness away, then twisted the cloth into a
cylindrical shape and slowly pushing it into her vagina like a dildo.  Sheri
lifted her hips to help, bearing down on the cloth phallus, her cunt walls
spasming uncontrollably.

"Dry enough?" he finally asked, stopping momentarily.

"I think so, Master," she replied.  "May I check?"  A nod from her Master, and
Sheri checked herself.  Billy thought it looked like she was checking a
temperature or tire pressure, so intent was the look on her face.  "Yes, Master. 
I'm wet enough, but not too much so.  Please fuck your slave, Master!" she
begged.

Billy raised himself over her quivering body, carefully positioning his still
rock-hard member at his target.  As he lowered himself into her, it felt like
his cock was being swallowed whole.  He could feel the mouth of her cunt open
and close like a mouth trying to devour him, and then sheri's legs wrapped
around his waist.  He was lost in ecstasy, the throbbing of her well-trained
hole as she tightened it around him causing his penis to respond in kind,
throbbing for bare moments before his ejaculate came spewing out, filling her. 
As Billy came, so did sheri, timing her own climax with the first spurt of her
Master's cock, knowing that even if she were punished for having an orgasm
without permission, it would make her Master feel even more superior knowing
what his cum did to her.

"Wow, that was great," Billy panted, rolling off the girl.  "What next...after I
recover, that is?"

"First, Master, let me clean you up, please," sheri replied, crawling between
his legs.  Billy gasped as sheri's lips touched the tip of his prick, licking at
the droplets still bubbling out of the hole.  He moaned as she licked the shaft,
working her tongue clear down to his pubic hair, where the sticky remains of
their coupling was most apparent.  Using her tongue, she lovingly lapped away
until it seemed most was gone, then went back to the top, engulfing his cock and
making sure he was rock hard again before stopping.

"Master, would you like to try another of your slave's holes, Master?" she asked
gently, noting that her oral ministrations had relaxed him to the point of light
slumber.

"Huh?  What?" he responded groggily.

"Master, your slave has three holes to fuck, and you've only used two of
them...and really, only one counts.  Master, please fuck your slave in the ass,
Master!" she begged.

Six hours later, after a marathon fucking session, a short nap and a shower
together, the two were back in the living room again.  It was late, but they
were both hungry, so Billy called out for pizza.  Sheri waited in the living
room, out of sight of the front door, while it was delivered.  She couldn't
remember the last time she'd eaten pizza; probably after that last winning track
meet, she thought.  She wanted to tear into it, but remembering her last episode
with real food, quietly nibbled two pieces.

"Master?" she asked when they were finished eating.

"What is it?" he answered.

"Master, why are you so nice to your slave?  I mean - I'm a slave.  I'm supposed
to be treated like one, and you're treating me like...well...almost an equal. 
You let me eat whatever I want, whenever I want it; you told me I don't have to
ask permission to use the toilet; and you didn't even make me beg for those
wonderful orgasms you gave me."

"I guess I'm not a very good Master, am I?" he asked by way of an answer.

"Oh, no, Master.  You're the most wonderful Master a girl could ask for!" she
exclaimed.  "It's just that...well...like I said, you're treating me like an
equal."

"Sheri," he said seriously.  "I never wanted to own you, I just wanted to be
your boyfriend.  The only reason I'm even doing this is to be near you.  If I
could, I'd grant you your freedom right now, but you know the story on that." 
Indeed she did - once a slave, always a slave.  "So if I can't really be your
boyfriend, I still want to act like I am.   God, I wish there was someplace
where we could go so you could just be a normal, free person."

"Master," she sobbed, tears flowing freely now, "that was the most beautiful
thing anyone has ever said to me.  I love you!" she wailed, throwing her arms
around his legs again, slathering his bare feet with kisses.   "But I AM a
slave, and nothing can change that.  Please, Master, use me as your slave,
please?"

"Sheri...I...I can't.  I just can't."   It was his turn to cry now.  Sheri
didn't see it as a sign of weakness as he would have thought, but as a symbol of
the love and caring he had for her.  Then it hit her.

"Master, maybe if you thought of me as something other than 'sheri.'  You're
still thinking of me as that girl you grew up with, only she doesn't exist
anymore. Look in my training book, you'll see how many names I've had.  I can't
remember them all.  Change my name to...I don't know," she said, looking around. 
"Sofa or armpit or snot, anything you want, anything but sheri.  They used to
call me toe, and fuckbunny, and radish, and toilet, and bitch...and a bunch of
other names...before I was fat piggy fuck, Master.  Find a name that won't
remind you of someone who died the day she was sentenced, Master.  Sheri has
been dead for over a year now, and she's never coming back!"  Her statement of
fact hurt sheri nearly as much as they hurt Billy, but she knew it was the only
way.

The words burned through Billy like the flames of Hell, but he knew she was
right.  Sheri was long gone, and in her place was an exquisitely trained,
totally submissive slave, who he was quickly falling in love with.  He nodded
through tear-filled eyes.

"What's your favorite flower?" he asked.

"Huh?  Um...chrysanthemum, I guess," she replied.

"No, you need a name I can actually spell," he laughed, the sadness over for
both of them now.  "What about...I don't know...how about 'blossom?' That way
you can be whatever flower you feel like at the moment." The slave nodded
eagerly, happily accepting her new name.  They christened blossom's new name
with another round of sex, this time intertwined on the soft carpet in front of
the fireplace.

Life went on for several months, just the mundane everyday things that happen to
people.  Billy still had a year of school left, but because he was now a slave
owner, he rated a monthly stipend from the government that paid for his
apartment and food.  He wanted to take on a part-time job, but blossom said she
was well-versed in financial management - a claim borne out by her training
records - and they were even able to put away a small amount once in a while. 
Billy went to school and studied, while blossom took care of the house and
finances.  Billy was still unsure of himself as a Master, but he was a quick
learner.  He studied all sorts of books and manuals, even belonged to a couple
of online support groups for new Owners.  He learned a lot about not only his
slave, but himself as well.  He began to understand blossom better, why she was
willing to risk everything and break the rules by giving her own meager
breakfast to the terrified eleven year old.  He realized blossom's entire psyche
revolved around the desire to help others, even at the risk of her own health or
safety. 

That was one reason he was concerned about his next step, but he knew it was
necessary for blossom's emotional health.  He'd even discussed the issue with a
psychologist, who agreed with his plan.  Then the day finally arrived.

"We're going downtown today.  I want you to see something," Billy told his
slave, tossing her a silk slave gown.  Similar to the garment she'd worn in the
fields, this one was more comfortable, and so thin as to be nearly transparent. 
The material extended nearly to her knees, and there was a small silk tie
attached at the waist, which she cinched up quickly, padding behind her Master
as he went to the door, grabbing blossom's leash and waited impatiently for the
girl to kneel so he could snap it to her collar.  It was still considered a
breach of protocol to allow a slave out completely naked in public, thought the
skimpy attire didn't really cover much.

"Do you remember when I told you everyone who conspired to make you a slave was
going to pay for hurting you?  You didn't believe me, did you?" he asked as they
walked down the sidewalk, blossom two steps behind and one to the left of her
Master.

"Yes, Master, Blossom remembers.  No, Master, Blossom did not believe her Master
at first.  She apologizes for her thoughts, Master, and begs to be punished." 

Billy replied with a loud laugh, "No, there's no need for punishment, my
beautiful, obedient slave.  The reason I asked is that I did some investigating
and discovered who was the primary culprit.  It wasn't Sheila after all, though
she had a part in it.  I can't do anything to her, but the other one, who lied
under oath to make you a slave, I was able to do something about.  Had it not
been for her, you'd still be free, getting ready to attend college in a few
months.  Of course, if that happened, I'd not have the most beautiful girl in
the world as my own."

"She, Master?" blossom asked incredulously.

"Yes, and I reported her misdeeds myself almost a year ago.  I arranged for her
to become a breeder," he said, "and I understand she's just about ready to whelp
her first litter.  We're going to go watch."

A breeder was about as low as a slave could be.  Selected for neither
intelligence nor beauty, but their fertility, breeders spent their early
adulthood being artificially inseminated, giving birth to slave babies, and then
repeating the process over and over again, until menopause finally resulted in
the end of their usefulness.  Other than food and infrequent medical attention,
breeders were low maintenance, needing neither the basic nor advanced forms of
training blossom herself had undergone.  Quite often - actually, in the majority
of cases - a breeder would have her clitoris removed completely, and often had
the vaginal opening surgically enlarged for no other reason than to ensure there
was absolutely no pleasure involved during impregnation.  Breeders were truly
the lowest of the low, bred only to perpetuate the species. As blossom thought
about what life must be like for a slave such as that, they arrived at the
breeding facility. 

Walking down the glass-liked walls, blossom was surprised to see that the
breeding slaves hadn't even been divested of their hair, like she and her
colleagues had.  Most still had a full head of hair, though most of the crotches
she could see were scraped bare - probably a hygiene issue, she reasoned. 
Blossom reached up and ran her hand over her own hair, pleased that her own hair
was growing out into something more...well...more feminine.  Master Billy told
her he wanted it to grow back.  She wondered if she'd ever grow hair like she
had before, when she was free.  She realized, though, that she didn't really
care.  It wouldn't be an even trade, giving up slavery for something as mundane
as that, no matter how badly she wanted long hair.

Billy took blossom into one of the delivery rooms, where a breeder lay splayed
out on her back, her naked body covered in sweat as she trembled with her fifth
hard contraction in the past half hour.  Taking little notice of anything else,
blossom saw how the girl's bare pussy seemed to be bulging, her swollen belly
oscillating spasmodically.

"This is the person who set you up, blossom," Billy told her.  "Look at her and
see what has become of her."

That was when blossom's eyes moved up the table, to the straining breeder's
face. 

"Kathy?" blossom exclaimed.  "It was Kathy, Master?"

"Yes, it was, little one.  I'm sorry for everything that has happened to you.  I
would have enjoyed dating you, perhaps marrying you some day, but my bitch of a
sister had to fuck things up.  I set her up to be raped - I was the first, by
the way," he said sadistically, "though she'll never know that.  The cops found
her drunk and naked in the city park, so she was jailed on a prostitution
charge.  So now she'll be the one getting fucked...by a cold metal tube, every
nine months.  They say the tests indicate she could pump out as many as thirty
brats before her womb goes cold; that's a baby every nine months for the next 25
years.  After that, I've already optioned her to a whorehouse in Asia."

"Master," blossom said quietly, dropping to her knees.  "Master, blossom doesn't
need revenge, Master."

"I know, my love...but I do.  That bitch took my girlfriend away from me, and
all I have to show for it is a slave," he said, reaching down and patting the
kneeling girl's head just as his sister let out a blood-curdling scream.  They
both looked up and saw the baby's head crowning.

"Master, can we go now?  I think I would like a baby some day, if it pleases
you, but before that happens, could we go home and practice making a baby
first?!"

~ Fin~

Review This Story || Email Author: Rocky

MORE BDSM STORIES @ SEX STORIES POST