The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A True and Proper Slave

Amy sat naked in front of the mirror on her small wooden stool, slowly brushing the curls from her long, red hair as it fell and splayed over her pale shoulders. Was this the last time? She contemplated, as she gazed at her reflection. It was the same ritual she’d gone through to prepare her body nearly every day for five years now, and there was no reason to believe it would be any different tomorrow. But would she recognize it tomorrow? Did it matter anyway? No, she supposed it didn’t, and that was the whole point after all.

It might matter to Becky or Lucy. They were the other two girls in his harem, and while they had shown their devotion and submission time and time again, all three of them secretly knew that Amy was the most devoted among them to her slavery. She was his first slave, after all, and until the other two had committed themselves over for life, she had been convinced that she would be there long after the other two had had enough. She had been wrong about them there, but still, she was always the first to volunteer for anything, whether it was some exquisite new form of torture or degradation he had devised, or the outlandish and occasionally dangerous modifications to their bodies to better serve him and his friends.

Finishing with her hair and replacing the brush in the nightstand, she stood and considered her profile in the mirror. Slender and supple, her twenty-three year-old body was the embodiment of sexuality, with her pale, freckled skin drawn taught over lithe limbs. Her hair was deep and red and reached down to the middle of her back—before Becky had arrived and taken charge of their grooming, it had reached all the way down to her butt. Her boobs were the perfect size and shape—not too large and not too small, pleasantly round and converging to small, pink nipples with tiny barbells piercing them, and her ass curved out gently from the small of her back. On the whole her frame was an average height and size but light and curvy: the perfect little red fucktoy for her master. She looked youthful and vibrant, completely nude except for the leather collar tightly locked around her neck. Admiring her own beauty was one of the few pleasures she allowed herself—for a proper slave should not seek any pleasure other than that of her master—and it gave her guilty pleasure to know that she succeeded in being the object of sexual desire that he wanted.

Becky and Lucy were equally sexy in their own ways, but Amy’s way was perfect and all her own. She loved her body, which made her volunteering for her master’s body modifications all the more poignant. She ran her hands over her breasts, and her mind went wild at the wonderful submission she had shown him there... he had wanted her to have sluttier boobs, but at the same time wanted to preserve the natural beauty of her well-balanced frame. A surgeon friend of his had come up with a rather ingenious idea, implanting inflatable bulbs in her chest that ran to a valve that stuck out ever so slightly from her right armpit. Now he could attach a simple squeeze-pump to her whenever he wanted to increase the size of her boobs, for company or special occasions. She had literally become a blow-up doll for him.

Lucy had not been given such consideration; her boobs had been permanently increased to an obscene triple-E cup size, with collagen injected into the nipples to make them the size of silver dollars and permanently erect. Becky’s medium-sized tits required no modification on her small frame, he’d decided. Becky got hers in other ways, though.

She was curious to know if the other two would accept their fate the way she had. They had stuck it out so far, after all, and committing themselves to lifelong slavery was no small choice. It had meant cutting off all ties to their families and friends, closing their bank accounts, surrendering up all proof of existence on this Earth in order to live a life of anonymous servitude in his home. So, having come so far, maybe they had it in them to take this next step. Of course, by the time she found out she wouldn’t know or care, at least, not in any manner that was significant to the person she was now.

She sighed and went to her closet, selecting a costume for her morning run. The other two still frequently left the grounds for shopping and other errands, and while they were still permitted to wear all kinds of sexy, slutty and even occasionally elegant clothing (well, Becky could pull off elegant; there was no dress that could contain the sluttiness of Lucy’s enormous rack), Amy’s choices had gradually been pared down to only the most obscenely revealing garments that served only to accentuate her exposure. She selected a suit comprising of a single strip of elastic fabric that wound around each of her thighs, criss-crossing the small of her back to her front, crossing between her boobs and tying in the back of her neck, behind her collar. She reached into a drawer and removed a set of thin, gold chains and rings. She removed the barbells in her nipples and affixed rings with small bells attached to them, as her master appreciated the sound they made when she ran. She also had a thicker barbell running through the septum of her nose, which she now exchanged for a ring and then ran two of the gold chains down to her nipples. She then ran two more chains from her nipples down to a ring in her clit, which was permanently engorged and hyper-sensitive thanks to an injection of collagen, by the same surgeon who had given her inflatable boobs.

The idea was that while running the movement of her head would yank her tits, causing pain, and the bouncing of her tits would tug on her clit, causing arousal. She wasn’t allowed to orgasm, though; unlike the other two, who experienced orgasms multiple times on a typical day, she was only permitted orgasms on occasion, when he felt like she’d earned it. He enjoyed keeping her in a constant state of arousal, forcing her mind and body to ache with endless sexual hunger and reducing her personality to that of a sexually depraved and deprived slut who cared only about sex and submission. She did her part to oblige: the truth was, she didn’t even care so much about the sexual nature of her servitude, except that it was her route to deeper and deeper bondage and submission. So every day she strived to become more and more the sexual plaything he wanted her to be.

She stepped into her running shoes, which could be considered so only in the most literal sense that she wore them while running: they were black latex platforms with four inch heels; tricky to balance and even trickier to move in, but she had gotten good with practice.

She reached over to another drawer and pulled out the final piece of equipment for her run: a set of black rubber straps with matching twin dildos affixed to them. She ran her finger over her clit and made small circles, feeling the moisture build inside her pussy. She then took the smaller of the two dildos and gently worked it in and out of her vagina, back and forth, until it was glistening with her juices. She removed it, breathing heavily, and slowly pushed the now-lubricated dildo into her ass. Once it was all the way in, she took the larger dildo and slid it easily into her pussy. She buckled and tightened the straps on the harness, and with her two companions firmly secured inside of her, she was ready to begin her morning run.

* * *

She didn’t always run in the morning, but today it was Becky servicing their master while Lucy prepared breakfast, so it was a good time for her to get her aerobic exercise out of the way. Becky was a competitive dancer in her former life, and ever since she’d arrived she’d put them on a strict exercise regimen to maintain their bodies properly for their master. Amy had always been skinny but now she was toned as well, and she was grateful to Becky for her help in improving her definition and shape, all to be a better bondage doll for their master.

It hadn’t always been that way.

Amy remembered when, only two years into her committed slavery, her master had told her he intended for other girls to join her in order to form a full-on harem for him. She remembered the sinking feeling she felt, like she was being replaced or discarded. She had known full well, of course, that part of being a devoted slave was the willingness to be replaced or discarded, but she was still growing into her new existence and hadn’t been prepared for it.

She had more than a hunch that it would be Becky, too. Becky was shorter than Amy, with black hair in a similarly short, neat bob around her head. She had a dancer’s body, though: thin, athletic and firm, with the flexibility that comes with years of gymnastic movement. She was only seventeen the first time Amy met her.

Amy didn’t know how long her master had known Becky before that day, but it couldn’t have been very long. Becky was an orphan who had danced in competitions before she quit school and ditched her foster family; now she was a check-out clerk at the supermarket by day who sought out rough play at night. It seemed that the master had invited her back to his place after some dalliances at a bondage club. It was at his home that she saw Amy for the time, kneeling on the floor in a black latex maid’s uniform, with holes trimmed with lace that exposed her ass and tits. Becky was startled at first, then as the master ordered Amy over to lick Becky’s pussy, her surprise quickly faded into to arousal. The master finished by fucking Amy’s ass through the hole in her maid’s uniform while Amy’s tongue brought Becky to multiple orgasms. That was the first time they met.

Becky was a frequent guest from then on. Where Amy was purely submissive, though, Becky was a slut for pain and degradation. She let the master hogtie her, bind her, strap her down and flog her until she couldn’t get up. And then he would fuck her and come all over her, and order Amy to lick her clean. He actually wound up making significant renovations to the dungeon in his quest to accommodate her thirst for pain and bondage. This was all over the course of a couple of months, during which Amy noted that if Becky had things like a job and an apartment she must be neglecting them to the point of no return.

So when Becky officially became his second slave and traded her worldly things in for a collar and a cage next to Amy’s, it came as no surprise. Amy was guarded at first, but once Becky’s status as a privileged outsider evaporated they quickly became like sisters, and together they shared the responsibilities of the household and delighted in training each other to become better slaves for their master.

Lucy took longer to join the harem, and initially showed more skepticism than either Amy or Becky. It was around six months after Becky joined, while they were performing oral sex on each other for an audience of strangers at a private club, that Lucy had steeled her nerves to first approach their master and ask if she might join in. He happily obliged, and after that Lucy became a regular visitor to the house. It would take another six months for her to take up the mantle of slavery, but when she did so it was wholeheartedly.

Lucy was the tallest of the three, with golden hair that curled like Amy’s. She was also the most curvaceous of them, with long legs that met to form a heart-shaped ass, and hips that swayed when she walked. She had ample, firm breasts, and was a C cup before the master had her undergo surgery to transform them to triple-Es. Now her boobs were comically huge, but Lucy, who was a pure nymphomaniac obsessed with sex, she loved them.

That was what drew Lucy in: she craved sex of all kinds with both men and women. She liked her sex and she liked it kinky, and nowhere was it kinkier of more regular for her than in their master’s home. At first she was just in it for the sex, but as time went on she grew more and more dependent and found herself craving the degradation and submission like the others, and by the time six months had passed she knew that there would never be any turning back for her. She was twenty-three at the time, which would put her at twenty-five or so today.

The three of them had lived out their days together for two years now, fucking and being fucked, with endless bondage, torture and titillation of all sorts. The master had friends he invited over regularly that took care of them in exchange for his permission to fuck them, beat them, degrade and humiliate them. It was the skilled professionals among these friends that gave them their piercings, their surgeries, their body modifications. Becky, the pain slut, now had tattoos selectively covering parts of her body, forever identifying her as a whore. While the others had to shave daily, Becky had had all of her body hair removed permanently with electrolysis. Her labia was then pierced with six holes on each side, so that her pussy could be laced shut as if it were a shoe, often with a vibrator trapped inside.

Amy dwelled on all of this as she began her workout, a mile-long run around the perimeter of the grounds. The master had a large home with about an acre of a private yard, secluded from the prying eyes of neighbours. Nothing that could be considered a mansion or anything so fancy; he was wealthy but not excessively so, although lately he’d made a considerable amount trading on the services of his three slaves, whoring them out to individuals, parties, and for videos to be viewed by numberless paying customers.

She ran in the heels, not in a typical jog but in a fast, awkward high-knee step that had been part of their ponygirl training. You never knew when you would be called on to don a bridle and tail and pull a cart, after all.

Her nipples twinged with pain from the chains running from her nose, and the constant jerking on her clit made her weak in the knees. Meanwhile, the dildos in her ass and her pussy shifted in and out of her with every step. She focused on the pain and the pleasure, relishing them for her master. What a good slut she was, she thought to herself. This is what a bondage doll like her should be feeling every moment of every day.

She completed her mile-long run, about a dozen laps around exterior. Sweaty and panting she reentered the house, to see that breakfast was already well underway.

The master was sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying waffles that Lucy had prepared. Both Becky and Lucy were still naked, save for their collars; Lucy was facing away from the entrance, eating her own meal crouched in front of a dish on the floor, her gigantic boobs on the floor and her ass and pussy on display high in the air. Becky was kneeling in front of the master, slowly sucking on his dick, taking it in and out of her mouth as he lazily pumped her. Upon seeing the master, Amy stood at attention with her legs spread shoulder-length apart and her arms clasped behind her back, chest thrust out.

“Ah, Amy, good to see you. You’re just in time for your breakfast,” the master said cheerfully. He tapped Becky on the head and she withdrew. Amy stepped over to Becky’s spot, knelt down and took over for Becky, thrusting her head forward and backward along the master’s shaft. He grabbed the back of her head and resumed his pumping in and out of her mouth. After a few moments of this he said, “Becky, go ahead.”

Amy inhaled sharply as she felt Becky’s tongue begin to lick and probe her dildo-filled pussy from behind. This was fairly unusual, and Becky began to focus on her clit, licking and swirling with increased fervour and pace. Becky then grabbed the dildo lodged in her ass and worked it in and out, fucking her ass with the dildo while licking her pussy. Moaning with the master’s penis still sliding in and out of her mouth, Amy turned her gaze up at him pleadingly.

“Go ahead,” he said, and with a mixture of surprise and gratitude she let her first orgasm in weeks wash over her, convulsing into Becky’s mouth, who continued to furiously lick and suck on Amy’s throughout the event. The master, meanwhile, shoved her head as far up along his member as it would go, pushing his cock down her throat. Amy responded intuitively, circling her tongue all over his shaft until moments later his load shot directly down her esophagus and into her belly.

Slowly, gradually he released his hold on her. She sat back, assuming a similar position to her standing one but instead kneeling on the ground with her knees spread apart, revealing her well-trimmed red pussy with the dildo still protruding from it. Becky silently crawled over to join Lucy eating from the plate on the floor. Together the two of them finished the remaining scraps of food on it, leaving none for Amy; she had already consumed her meal for the morning.

“Consider that my little present for you,” the master said, returning to his meal. “This morning is your big treatment. Are you ready?”

“Yes, master,” she intoned quietly.

“Of course you are.” He rubbed the top of her head and stroked her hair a little, fondly. “Very well, go take off your clothes and accessories and head into the study. Becky and Lucy will clean up here.”

She obligingly stood up and headed to the slave quarters to change. Becky and Lucy had already begun picking up and putting away the dishes. It might have been her imagination, but she thought they were avoiding eye contact with her.

* * *

Two weeks earlier, he had the three of them gathered in his study. He sat in his recliner while they knelt and faced him on the floor. They were relaxed, but still holding their positions of knees spread, arms clasped behind backs and tits thrust out. It was there that he explained the problem.

“As my slaves, you will do anything I ask of you,” he said. “I know this, from years of testing you, pushing you further than you’d ever imagined possible. I’m proud of all three of you, and how well you’ve served me.” He paused for a moment. “The problem is that every time you act, you do so willingly. That is to say, you make the choice to do what you are told. Not because you are trying to avoid punishment, but because you know it’s your place and that it’s what a good slave does.”

He hummed a moment in thought. “Do you see the problem here? No matter how submissive, no matter how devoted you are, you always making the choice to comply, and consent to be a slave. A true slave, a proper slave, doesn’t make that choice. She simply obeys. Consent doesn’t enter the picture; she cannot choose to consent because she cannot comprehend anything but consent.”

The three of them didn’t move from their positions, but they exchanged slight glances of confusion between each other.

“One of my friends is a neurosurgeon, who has been working on a highly experimental but also terrifically effective medical technology. It’s incredibly advanced... a few electrodes attached to a person’s skull, and it’s possible to do some very precisely targeted procedures.”

They dared not move, but there was no concealing that their breathing had quickened and their glances had become more furtive.

“Two weeks from now he will be able to bring his equipment here, and at that point I intend to alter each of your minds, by irradiating the part of the brain that controls your ability to make decisions for yourselves. After the treatment, you will no longer be able to refuse anything that is commanded of you. You will each, at last, be a true and proper slave.”

He paused a moment to let this sink in. Becky’s eyes were welling up with tears, and she was clearly struggling to keep herself from making any sobbing noises. Lucy gazed vacantly into the floor, trembling slightly. Amy knelt there, expressionless.

“There are some side effects to this procedure,” he continued at last. “You will probably lose some degree of intelligence, although he tells me that we are able to mitigate most of this. But the biggest impact will be to your self-awareness. You will become true living dolls, pliant and superficial and although you will be as functional as you are today, you will be, well, without so much of a soul getting in the way of your duties to myself and your slavery. You will serve out the rest of your lives to me in this blissful, docile haze. And if some day I choose to sell you or discard you, you will continue to serve whomever possesses you, without any thoughts that could interrupt that service. Do you understand?”

A moment of hesitation passed before Amy spoke. “Yes, master,” she said, and the other two chimed in so quickly that they were almost undistinguishable from her.

“I plan on having the procedure performed on one of each per day, for three days. Who wants to go first?”

“I do, master,” Amy spoke immediately. “Please, let me go first.”

He smiled familiarly. “You should know, Amy, I have something special planned for you, my most subservient little whore. Becky and Lucy are simply receiving the treatment to turn off their conscious will. Yours will be a little different, though.”

She gazed up at him, a soft but determined look on her face. She knew in her heart of hearts that she was a true and proper slave, and she would do anything asked of her.

“I am going to dial down your intelligence,” he explained matter-of-factly. “Make you dumber. Not too much. Not to the point where you can’t dress yourself or follow orders or fuck well or do household chores. But you probably won’t be able to read or write, or count any higher than your fingers. You will be a ditz, an airhead and a bimbo. And you will be oblivious and happy about it. You won’t remember anything from your past, and will have no ambition other than to keep being the obedient, sex-obsessed little slut you already are. Do you understand?”

“Yes master,” Amy responded. “Thank you master. Thank you... for making me into a properly dumb whore for you.

He smiled again. “You’re welcome,” he said. He stood up from his chair. “Well, that’s all there is. Lucy and Amy, you can get started on today’s chores. Becky, I believe it’s your turn in the dungeon; go ahead and strap yourself onto the sawhorse.” With that he left the room, leaving the three slaves kneeling on the ground in varying states of utter bewilderment.

* * *

Amy entered the study with trepidation. The walls of the study were lined with sexual implements, punishment devices and tools that he kept on hand for various purposes. The gurney in the middle was new, though. It was an adjustable medical table with articulating metal plates to restrain the arms, legs, hands and feet in any position desired. She saw that it was configured for her to lie back at an almost horizontal angle on, with her legs spreadeagled and arms out at the side. Nervously she climbed onto it and relaxed into position, her legs spread and knees slightly bent, feet in the stirrups. She laid her head back on the head rest provided, and waited.

She waited an hour or more, feeling unusually vulnerable on the table, positioned but not restrained, naked but without any of the chains and accoutrements that so often adorned her nipples or pussy, or any devices working on or inside of her.

Finally, after what seemed like forever and was surely a deliberate delay on the part of her master to throw in some additional psychologically torment to today’s procedure, he strode into the study and walked up to the table.

“Ah, here we are,” he said, beginning to snap on and tighten restraints on her ankles, thighs, stomach, arms, wrists and finally her collar and forehead. He chatted while he worked: “My neurologist friend really wanted to come and observe these procedures, but they’re so easy with the software that he’s hardly needed in the room, although he is downstairs should there be a problem. Not that there will be a problem... it’s all very straightforward. Becky and Lucy are keeping him busy at the moment; you’ll be able to fuck his brains out later, pardon the pun.”

Amy continued to lay in expressionless silence on the table, while her master finished up the last of the restraints. He paused for a moment in consideration, and finally spoke softly. “I just want you to know, I’m very proud of you, Amy. You’ve always been my most devoted slave, never putting a single thought of your own ahead of my pleasure or desires. This procedure is not a punishment or indicative of a failure on your part. It’s simply the next step in you becoming the true, pure slave you were always meant to be.”

Amy could no longer stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. “Thank you, master,” she said quietly, choking back her sobs.

“Are you ready?”

She couldn’t nod her head in the restraints. “Yes, master,” she said.

He went out of her field of view and she heard him trundling a small table on wheels she hadn’t noticed before next to her bondage table. Out of the corner of her eye she could make out a laptop computer sitting on it, and a device with a bunch of electrodes running from it to what looked like a thin metal crown, which he placed on her head and began fiddling with, making small adjustments so that everything lined up correctly. He then returned to the laptop and spent a few moments working on it. “Here we are,” he said, examining the screen. “The map of your brain is online. It should take about an hour to irradiate the necessary areas.” He reached his hand out to the keyboard as if to do something decisive, then suddenly paused for a moment.

“You’ve been such a good slave,” he said thoughtfully. “Would you like to be degraded further while the procedure is taking place?”

“Yes, master, if it gives you pleasure,” Amy responded dutifully.

“Of course,” he smiled. He went to another wall of the study and wheeled over a larger table, on which there was a large machine she recognized well. It had a reciprocating motor with a piston that moved a large metal rod with a dildo on the end of it. He locked the wheels of the table, and carefully extended the shaft of the rod until the dildo was penetrating her pussy. He turned a dial on the machine, and it slowly began to rhythmically fuck her with the dildo while she lay restrained on the table.

“There, perfect,” he said, and walked back over his laptop. She heard the sound of him hitting a key on the keyboard, and as the dildo mechanically pounded into her pussy like a metronome she began to feel a slight tingling warmth around her head. Then slowly, ever so gradually, the world she had known faded away.

* * *

In the dungeon, Becky was distracted by the efforts of the neurologist to disciple herself and Lucy. The two of them were dangling from their arms with ring gags in their mouths, facing into each other while attached to a spreader bar suspended by a cable and a winch. It was an odd setup, Lucy at six feet and Becky only 5′4″, with Becky practically threatening to vanish into Lucy’s enormous boobs. Still, they dangled there and spun, while he whipped them from a few feet away. He seemed clearly frustrated that he wasn’t present at Amy’s transformation, and was working that frustration out on them.

He suddenly stopped, reacting to a message on his phone. “It seems I need to send one of you up to greet your new and improved sister,” he said. “Tell you what, we’ll play a little game. The first one to orgasm from my whipping you two gets to be the first to meet what’s left of her. The second one can stay down here and get fucked by me.”

That was no game, Becky thought. If only he knew, Becky was always the first to come when there was pain involved. Over the past few years she’d been trained to the point where she could just about come on command after the first few strokes. Still, as he started back in with the whip she held out for as long as she could, not to give Lucy a fighting chance—there was no such thing when it came to who the pain slut of their harem was—but to give the neurologist the show he wanted. Besides, it wasn’t as if Lucy wasn’t getting sopping wet from it too.

Shortly, though, her body wracked and convulsed, and the neurologist chuckled while lowering the winch until both their feet were on the ground. He then detached Becky’s arms, and she rubbed her wrists as the circulation returned to them, and then proceeded to remove her own gag.

Meanwhile the neurologist ran the winch back up until Lucy was on her tiptoes. “You can go now, little pain whore. Say hi to your friend for me,” he said without even glancing at Becky, stepping behind Lucy and shoving his cock easily into her pussy, which was still wet from the beating. Lucy moaned into the gag as Becky exited the dungeon and went up to the study.

Upon arriving she observed the unusual medical table that had been moved off to the corner, but it hung in the background of the much more familiar sight of Amy bracing herself against the coffee table while their master fucked her from behind.

Amy looked up at the sound of Becky approaching. “Hi there Becky!” she gasped with a broad smile as the master continued to pump into her. “It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too, Amy,” Becky said cautiously as she got into their attention stance: legs spread, arms clasped behind her back, tits thrust out, eyes forward.

“You’re so gorgeous, Becky, you know that? God I love how sexy you are. Do you think I could lick your pussy?”

Becky glanced at her master, who nodded approvingly without pausing in his thrusts. “Of course you can, Amy,” Becky said, climbing onto the coffee table and spreading her legs open. Amy squealed gleefully and dove down into her hairless pussy, and Becky reached down to spread her pierced lips for Amy. Things weren’t so different, she supposed, as the first wave of orgasm began to wash over her.

* * *

Lucy was with the master that night, and so Becky got to be alone with Amy in the slave quarters. She watched Amy sleep on the ground of one of the low, tight-fitting animal cages, nestled snugly onto two metal bars protruding from the wall as they simultaneously impaled her hindquarters. It was hard to tell, but she appeared to be smiling.

Becky was less comfortable—as far as any of their sleeping arrangements could be considered “comfortable”—herself standing impaled on a vertical metal bar, legs kept spread by extremely sharp spikes that adorned the spire’s midsection. She wore an inflatable gag that had been inflated carefully over the course of five minutes, stopping periodically to let her adjust until the gag could have more air pumped into it to tighten it further, and the gag itself was then held in place on her head by a leather harness. Clips on her nipples ran to a pulley on another metal shaft installed on the floor in front of her, and from there ran up to the ceiling and back down to a ring on top of her gag harness, so if she moved her head or started to nod off, her nipples would get yanked ushering her back to a painful wakened state.

Deep inside her pussy, a device on the head of the shaft hummed quietly, stimulating her with vibrations in response to its own measurements of her insides. A wire from it ran back outside her pussy to a power modulator on the ground next to her, from which two more wires ran to an alligator clip that had been attached to her clit, and a metal probe that had been inserted into her ass. The device—an ingenious and diabolical invention of one of the master’s engineer friends—kept track of her level of stimulation and worked to slowly increase it. Then, when she was just about to orgasm, it would send a signal back to the power modulator which would send a huge electrical shock from her clit to her ass, pulling her back from the edge of release. (The device was capable of multiple settings and with Becky he usually used it to shock her while she was orgasming instead of to prevent it. He preferred to use the prevention setting on Amy most of the time, but it seemed tonight w as about keeping Becky from getting any sort of relief.)

Becky was going to receive her treatment tomorrow, and it was clear the master didn’t want her getting any sleep the night before. Instead he had faced her towards Amy’s cage, so that she could stare into her future, knowing full well that even though she wasn’t going to receive nearly the same level of lobotomizing that Amy had, that she would never be the same person again after tomorrow.

Becky stared at Amy, sleeping so peacefully on the cold wood floor, her long red hair splayed about her. Even though Becky was two years younger than her, Amy was the picture of an innocent child, a little girl too dumb to imagine or fathom any existence beyond being a witless sex toy in mindless worship of whomever commanded her.

Uh oh, she thought, as her breathing behind the gag grew more heavy with her thoughts of Amy’s empty, servile existence, and the device in her pussy responded to her horniness in turn by dialling up its vibration, and cresting in faster bursts of intensity. Try not to be so turned on, she thought to herself, try not to be so turned on, try not to be so turned on... but it was no use, and as she felt herself nearing orgasm the device suddenly switched off and searing pain wracked her body. She screamed into her gag, convulsing on her impaler as the shock went through her system, her nipples being pulled cruelly by the clips attached to them.

Exhausted and frustrated, her head tried to loll down but the associated pain in her nipples kept causing her to yank it back up. She was miserable and in pain, and with a barely audible click the vibrator turned itself back on again. She tiredly rolled her eyes back up to look at Amy, who had stirred slightly at the sound of Becky’s screams, and was now wiggling and adjusting herself back and forth on the metal bars inserted into her ass and pussy before drifting off back to sleep. The electronic lock on her cage would eventually turn off, and Amy would be able to emerge and finally end Becky’s long night of torture. It currently read six more hours.

* * *

Becky entered the study with trepidation. Her exhaustion from her sleepless night was pushed deep down by the nervousness of her imminent situation. She gazed at the medical table and the surprisingly simple apparatus on the rolling table next to it. Could she go through with this? Did she even have a choice? She knew that she was nothing, a worthless, empty vessel to be abused and fucked, but did he really have the right to do this to her? And wasn’t this kind of thinking exactly what he was trying to fix in the first place?

Unable to shake the pit in her stomach, she climbed onto the medical table, which had apparently been adjusted for her height. She spread her legs onto the two extensions, and reaching down buckled in her own ankles, then her thighs. She strapped in her waist, then buckled in her left wrist with her right, and then finally managed to fumble the strap closed on her remaining wrist. The rest would have to wait for him.

He entered shortly, an expression of mild surprise on his face that she’d already managed to strap herself down so effectively. Without a word he set to work tightening her straps and adding her head. As he pulled the final strap across her forehead, she began to cry slowly.

“What is it?” he asked, without anger or malice.

She sniffed back her tears. “I’m sorry master. It’s just... I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

He paused for a moment. “A slave doesn’t think about living and dying,” he replied.

“I know. I know, and I keep telling myself that. I am property, I am chattel,” she recited. “I have no worth on my own, only whatever worth others find in my use. I am beaten, abused, and humiliated to remind myself of these things, and I am given the gift of being allowed to come to reinforce them in me, and so that I may show others how truly I believe them.”

“So, then, what’s the problem?”

“It’s just... I know I’m not a person, but... what if I am? Or even just might be? These feelings, inside me... I know I was a person once, before I became a slave, and I’m only twenty... if I die today, I’ll never know.” She began crying again.

He went about placing and adjusting the apparatus on her head. “You are not a person,” he reassured her. “You do not even exist. This voice, inside your head, that asks these questions and tells you these things? It is a sickness I am going to silence for you.”

She smiled through her tears, as he went over to his laptop and pressed a key on it. “Thank you, master,” she said. “I’m sorry that I’ve misbehaved by thinking these things.”

“That’s alright, Becky,” he responded. “You couldn’t help thinking those thoughts, but I will punish you for thinking them, and I promise you won’t ever do it again.” He removed a penis-shaped gag from the wall and held the tip up to her face. She instinctively opened her mouth, and he slid it in towards the back of her throat, then clasped it shut behind her head. He then reached for a cane on the wall, and spent the next hour causing her to scream into the gag as he whacked her body while the machine did its work.

* * *

From her spot on the floor next to the master’s bed, Lucy eyed the clock that now read 8 AM. Time to wake the master up, she thought.

This was easier said than done, as her arms were bound together tightly behind her, from the shoulders all the way down the length of her arms and hands. Her legs were similarly bound from the knees down to her feet. Her movement was further restricted by the short leash attaching her collar to the bedpost. She didn’t have a choice, though; yesterday morning she had failed to properly wake her master and get him hard sufficiently quick, and she had paid the price for it. She dared not fail two mornings in a row.

She rocked herself back and forth on the ground, getting up sufficient momentum to lift her back and prop it up against the bed frame, careful not to cause too many vibrations in doing so. Her gigantic tits didn’t make things easier, and the huge brass rings that penetrated her nipples threatened to clang together noisily if she wasn’t careful.

She had managed to get some purchase against the bed, though, and that was good. She slowly and carefully pushed herself up onto the bed, where her master lay sleeping.

Some good luck: the blankets had shifted around and were mostly off him. That had been her problem yesterday; the blankets had covered him too well and it had been too difficult to get to his dick without waking him.

The large ring gag in her mouth prevented her from using her teeth, so slowly, carefully, she nudged the edge of the comforter that was on him with her head, and pushed it off to the side, exposing his member. She shifted her body over, and took it gently through the ring gag into her mouth, at first just warming it with the inside of her cheek, being careful not to lick or stimulate it too quickly. She let the fluids insider her mouth do their work, gently sucking on it. As it began to firm up and he began to stir, she gradually began licking the shaft and bobbing her head on it, until it was fully erect and he was fully awake.

“Mmm,” he said, reaching down to grab her head and take control of the blow job. “Much better this time, Lucy. I think, this morning, I’d prefer that ass, though.”

Obligingly she tilted her head back to remove his dick from her mouth, and slowly spun herself around until her ass was positioned approximately where his dick should be. She felt with her ass, until she’d found the side of his erect member, and then heaved herself up into a sitting position, the rings on her massive tits now clanking together. She positioned her anus as best she could on top of his prick, and then sat down, moaning slightly as it drove into her.

There was no moving from her spot with her bound arms and legs, so he pushed her over onto her side and started to fuck her ass from behind her, quickly gaining momentum until he shot his load into her.

“Amy,” he called out, withdrawing from Lucy and climbing out of bed. Within moments Amy stood at attention in the entrance. She had been doing yard work, and was wearing a pair of incredibly tight cut-off jean shorts, with a large swath of material from her pussy to her ass absent.

“Get Lucy cleaned up here and ready for the day. I have some errands to run this morning and we have guests over for lunch, so we won’t be doing her procedure until this afternoon sometime. Also, she has my come in her ass; you can clean it out with your tongue.”

“Thank you, master,” Amy giggled, then dove onto the bed where Lucy was still bound and set to work on retrieving the contents of her ass. The master smiled and left the two of them to their work.

* * *

Lucy and Becky were hard at work in the kitchen preparing lunch. They had no help from Amy, who was out entertaining the master’s guests, no doubt showing off her new airhead persona as they humiliated and fucked her. The two of them wore similarly-themed but still starkly contrasting French maid outfits: Becky wore a small, black apron of see-through material that dangled and just barely covered her front, trimmed with white lace and had a piece of black fabric in the rear that looked like a pair of panties but only covered the top of her sexy dancers’s butt, before vanishing into white elastic edges that ran through her legs and up to the waistband of the apron in the front. On top she wore a matching black bikini top with white edges, with the sides of the tits cut out so that only a skinny triangle of black material covered her erect nipples. Lucy, meanwhile, wore a pleated black skirt that was tight around her narrow waist and that barely descended past her wide hips, wi th lacy white material underneath and a small, decorative apron on the front. Unlike Becky, Lucy wore only the skirt and had her gigantic breasts on full display, brass rings and all.

“Becky...” Lucy spoke apprehensively as she prepared a tray of hors d’oeuvres. They weren’t forbidden from talking, but she felt uneasy nonetheless.

“Yes, Lucy?” Becky responded, picking up on her hesitation.

“What... what’s it like?” Lucy asked nervously. “I mean... what’s different, now that you’re, you know...”

“Changed?” Becky finished for Lucy. She put down the pitcher she was filling with water and thought for the moment. “It doesn’t feel all that different. I mean, I know I’m dumber, but I don’t think I am in any way that matters. It’s just, I know I used to have opinions on things, and they would weigh down on me, and they don’t anymore. There’s this clarity. It’s nice. I can focus on being a slave without having to dwell on what everything means.”

Lucy trembled slightly as she arranged the food on her tray.

“Like, for example, the master was talking about maybe having our teeth removed so that we can be better at dick-sucking. That’s why he’s having a couple of his dentist friends over for lunch today. He’d give us dentures instead of teeth, so that we could still look nice and smile pretty most of the time, but could take them out for giving head. I have the feeling that... I have the feeling that before yesterday, I would have had to talk myself into doing something like that. Convince myself I was doing the right thing. Now I don’t need to think about it; I know I’ll just do whatever the master wants me to, and be happy that I’m serving him.”

“I see,” Lucy said quietly, as tears began to well up in her eyes.

“Oh, honey,” Becky ran over and embraced Lucy, pushing her giant breasts into her shoulders. She ran her hands over her back as Lucy sobbed quietly, then they tilted their heads towards each other and began to kiss passionately. There was not much place for emotion or romance in their depraved world, but the three slave sisters loved each other dearly and drew strength from their love, and in the occasional moments they had to express it their heightened sexual nature and training always manifested. They continued kissing fiercely as their hands ran over and explored each others’ bodies, nooks and crannies. Eventually they slowed down and the two just stood intertwined with each other, Becky holding the taller woman’s head to her chest and gently stroking her hair. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she cooed. “You’ll see, it’s gonna be just fine.”

* * *

“Come in,” Lucy heard the master’s voice in response to her knock. She tentatively opened the door to the den and walked over to the couch, where the master was sitting reading a newspaper.

Lunch had gone fairly smoothly. The master and his dentist guests had discussed the logistics of replacing Amy’s teeth with dentures (Lucy had breathed a small sigh of relief that they only seemed to be considering her at this time), and the girls spent a while after the meal performing on each other before servicing the guests. They had left exhausted and happy, and now they had returned to their normal routine, which meant Becky would probably be working out somewhere while Amy cleaned. Lucy would be cleaning as well, but she had excused herself to have a private word with their owner.

She knelt at attention in front of him, knees spread and her enormous boobs obscenely thrust out, the metal rings dangling from her giant, perky nipples. “May I please speak, master?” she asked.

“Of course, Lucy,” he replied. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Sir, I don’t think I can go through with this procedure,” she said slowly, eyes downcast. “I love being your slave and I will do anything you ever ask of me. But this is too much.”

He sighed, putting away his paper. “How does that even make any sense? How can anything be too much, if you admit you are my property and will do anything that I ask of you?”

“I, I don’t know. It’s just that right here and now I know I love being your slave, and I love Amy and Becky, and I love being treated as your sex doll and being humiliated and degraded and all of this. But that could change, someday. You might get rid of me, things could happen. I could have a life after this. I don’t know.”

“You’ve already committed your life to me. I own everything that ever was a part of your identity on the outside. Did you think that was just until you got bored of being my slave?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s just part of me always thought that maybe...”

“Thought what?” he interrupted, becoming annoyed. “What kind of life do you think a wanton slut like yourself could have on the outside, with those ridiculous tits and no money or skills other than at being a sex slave?”

Lucy trembled. “Even if it’s only that... even if I were only to be a pathetic whore the rest of my life... it would still be MY life, master.”

“You see? This is exactly the problem,” he spat. “Hard limits. Bullshit. There IS no ‘you’, or ‘yours’. There is only ‘my’ and ‘mine’. And you’ve never seemed to quite get that through that thick skull of yours.”

Lucy tensed. “I’m sorry, master,” she said defensively. “That’s just how it is. I can be your slave, but only as myself. You can keep me or get rid of me, and I’ll understand. I’m still a person, though.”

“No, you’re not,” he said decisively. “Stand up,” he ordered, and she surprised herself at how quickly she complied. “March yourself into the study, now.”

“I won’t do it, sir,” she responded, trying to sound matter-of-factly and not defiant. She began walking out of the den and into the hall, though, and she had no idea why. Was she merely responding out of habit to obey an order? That was silly. She had to get it together and put an end to this, but it was as though her legs were ignoring her and she couldn’t stop walking. “What...?” she intoned in a confused voice.

“I had a feeling you might be trouble,” she heard the master’s voice from behind her. “You never were as committed as your sisters. You were in it for the sex, the thrill, and the high. Always about you, and what you were getting out of it.”

“What did you do to me?” the onset of panic crept into her voice.

“While you were sleeping the night after Amy had gone through her procedure, I drugged you and did a preliminary alteration to your mind. Not the entire transformation, mind you, something much more surgical. Just a little snip to the decision-making part of your brain that gives you the ability to refuse. As you can see, it’s worked quite well.”

Her heart started to beat in horror, faster and faster, as she turned and entered the study. Amy and Becky were already standing naked at attention there, and the medical chair had been reconfigured in a way she didn’t instantly comprehend. She tried to concentrate but her mind was wandering... she noticed that Amy’s boobs were still inflated from earlier in the day, from when she had been dancing for and entertaining the master’s guests. Sweet, sexy Amy, permanently locked into a childlike idiotic state, the perfect redheaded toy bimbo who was mentally incapable of conceiving an existence beyond sex, humiliation and bondage.

“What are you going to do?” she asked, unable to hide the dread in her voice.

“Lie face-down on the table,” he said, and suddenly she understood the configuration: the inclined angle and lowered knee and leg joints, with the bolster at the bottom of the table to push her ass up into the air. So she could be fucked while the procedure was taking place.

He snapped his fingers and Amy and Becky set to work strapping her in. “Please, don’t do this,” she begged as he set to work adjusting the crown to her head. “I’ll do anything,” she babbled.

“Quiet now, and pay attention,” he said, and she had no choice but to obey. “Becky was a two. Amy was a six. You, my dear, are going to be a ten,” he explained as tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m going to erase your identity. Turn you into a pet for Amy and Becky. You won’t have much of a long-term memory, or the ability to speak, only what you need to serve.” He pressed a key on the laptop, and she felt a warm tingling begin where the crown sat on her head. “I’m going to have your clit surgically removed so that you no longer experience pleasure from sex. It will become just another part of your duties. You will be a dumb cow, a physical object, a toy for the pleasure of others to be used, abused and eventually discarded. Do you understand?”

“Yes, master,” she said lowly, utterly defeated. She felt him grab her hips from behind and the familiar feeling of his cock thrusting into her pussy.

“And I’m going to fuck you while I do it,” he said. “Not for your sake, but for mine. Because it gives me pleasure, and humiliates you. Reminds you what a worthless piece of cunt you are. I want you to dwell on that, and think about what a hollow slut you really are, until the last of the transformation has taken place and the Lucy you know is finally gone forever. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, master,” she answered weakly.

“What’s happening, girls?” he snapped at Amy and Becky. “She still has two other holes that need fucking.” Amy, who had clearly been made uncomfortable by the conversation she didn’t completely understand, now squealed with delight as she ran to the wall and grabbed a double-ended strap-on dildo, inserted one end into her pussy, snapped it tight around her skinny waist and ran over to Lucy’s head. Lucy obligingly opened her mouth and with a big smile Amy grabbed the back of her head and began pumping the dildo into it. Becky, meanwhile, grabbed another dildo from the wall and spread some lube onto it, showing clear relief at the end of the tension. She stood next to the master and worked the dildo into Lucy’s ass, until she was able to pull it in and out in time with his thrusts into her pussy.

And so it went, Lucy felt the pounding in all of her orifices as the device did its work, and as the last of her slipped away she finally found herself understanding what it really meant to be a true and proper slave.

* * *

Emma drove down the winding country road, following her GPS to its destination. It was a warm day in late summer, and the woods that lined either side of the road were in full bloom. She had no problem finding the address as there were no other homes to be found at the end of the path; clearly the man valued his isolation and this far from the city could afford a modestly impressive estate with all the privacy one could ask for.

She was dressed smart and professional, in a light blue blouse and matching skirt, with her blonde hair done in a neat ponytail. She had a small frame and well-proportioned and she knew that with her looks it was sometimes difficult to be taken seriously as a reporter, especially as she had not yet quite reached thirty. The embarrassing extracurricular nature of her source didn’t help matters, but the man had agreed to be interviewed and if the rumours she’d heard about his “harem” were true, it would make for quite a story.

She strode confidently up to the front door and rang the bell, which echoed loudly in the yard. It wasn’t quite a mansion, but was clearly built for a large family that could afford to entertain. The door opened and she let out a small gasp at the sight that greeted her.

The girl was petite with short black hair, and looked to be in her early twenties. A small padlock adorned a leather collar around her neck, with matching straps around her wrists with sturdy metal rings poking out of them. She wore a mesh tube-top that was entirely see-through, with her medium-sized tits entirely on display, and what appeared to be lipstick or some other form of makeup painting her nipples bright red. Beneath her exposed midriff was an extremely short and tight black latex miniskirt that left little to the imagination. The only other thing she wore were featureless, black heels that must have been five or six inches tall, forcing her onto her toes. Her body was nubile and toned, like that of a dancer.

“Good morning, miss,” she spoke softly. “The master is expecting you.” She turned on her heels and started down the hallway, and Emma inhaled sharply again as she now saw her from behind: the girl’s latex miniskirt had a giant hole cut out of the middle with a white lace trim around it, allowing her well-formed ass to peek out from it, and show off what was unmistakably a butt plug.

Emma followed down the hall in something of a haze, mentally noting the various pieces of erotic artwork and the few rooms they passed, including what appeared to be a small library and a gigantic kitchen. The girl led her out the back door into a large, beautiful courtyard that formed the entrance to a much larger field of grass that was mostly empty, save for the occasional tree that dotted it.

Next to a large swimming pool was a man relaxing in a chaise lounge with a drink and a newspaper. He was wearing sunglasses and a bathrobe; she couldn’t instantly tell if he was wearing anything underneath it. Far more jaw-dropping was the display next to him: a wooden frame in two pieces that she could only conceive of as a modified stocks, in the sense that it had two holes for arms but instead of a third for a neck, it had a larger hole lower down. The woman inside of it would have to be uncomfortable; she was bent over with her midsection through the center hole, and her arms pulled up behind her, forcing her to keep her upper body parallel to the ground. A spreader bar kept her legs apart so that from the reverse side of the stocks all you would see was the spread legs and exposed ass and pussy, and two hands emerging from the wooden surface.

The girl trapped in the device was much taller than the girl who had led her outside, with comically huge tits that had large metal rings pulling down on giant nipples. Wires ran from the rings down to a device placed on the ground next to a car battery, from which another wire emerged and appeared to run to her pussy. She was naked except for her collar and a leather mask covering her entire face, with earmuffs and pads around the eyes clearly meant to deprive her of those senses, and what looked like a gag in her mouth. Her body was dripping with sweat, which could be from both the sun and the strain of her position. Between her outlandishly proportioned body and obscured head, Emma hadn’t been entirely sure it was an actual person until she heard a muffled groan and saw her move slightly in her bondage.

Almost as amazing was the sight next to her: a young redheaded girl with a whip who was delivering lashes to the ass protruding from the stocks. She was something to behold as well, in what appeared to be a one-piece leather uniform that nearly disappeared between the clefts of her ass and pussy (enough so that Emma could make out the well-manicured strip of red fuzz that adorned her labia), up to an extremely tight under-bust corset that was melded to a form-fitting rubber top with two openings for her tits. The top covered her upper body right up to her neck below her collar, and left her shoulders exposed. A thin metal chain ran between her small, pink nipples, and clipped to a strap around her thigh was a battery pack with a light cable that ran to what was presumably a vibrator inside her pussy. She looked over at Emma and flashed a smile before returning to her task of whipping the girl in the stocks.

“Welcome, welcome, please sit down,” the man in the lounge said as she pulled up a patio chair and took a seat across from him. “I can see you’re impressed by my girls, as well you should be; they’re very impressive after all.”

“It’s... something else,” she admitted, and found herself startled by a groan and sudden shaking coming from the girl in the stocks. “Is she okay?” she asked tentatively.

“She no longer experiences orgasms, so the device is only able to give her shocks on a timed schedule,” he said dismissively, not answering her question.

“I see,” she said, bewildered by his response.

He turned to the redheaded girl. “Why don’t you take a break from Lucy,” he instructed her, and she immediately halted her whipping. “Emma, this is Amy,” he introduced her, and Amy waved her hand excitedly, the chain between her tits swinging as she did so. “Becky, get out here please?”

Almost immediately the girl in the mesh tube-top and latex miniskirt appeared, carrying a tray with two classes of water. She deliberately bent over at the waist as she served the glasses to them, so that her ass protruded from the opening in the back of the skirt as she did so, the handle of the butt plug poking between her cheeks.

“And this is Becky,” he continued to Emma as she served them. “Becky, I think it’s your turn for some punishment, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, sir,” Becky assented, and walked over to a nearby table, grabbing the edge and bending over, spreading her legs so that the latex miniskirt rode up on her high enough so that it exposed her hairless pussy, but still leaving her small, well-formed ass and its rubber passenger sticking out from within the white-laced trim.

Without needing to be told, Amy skipped over to behind Becky and knelt down, automatically going into a posture that had her back arched and her butt elevated, so that her assets would be on display as much as possible. She eagerly kneaded Becky’s ass cheeks with both hands before she began laying into them with smacks, causing Becky to moan quietly.

“I take it this isn’t what you expected?” the man asked, as they watched the two girls perform.

“I... I suppose I have to confess I don’t know what I expected,” Emma responded honestly, hoping that the flushing she could feel in her cheeks wasn’t as obvious as she imagined.

“Let’s get down to brass tacks,” he said. “You came here in search of a story, after being given a tip about myself and my harem of sex slaves. What you perhaps don’t realize is that I brought you here, in search of you.”

This did surprise Emma, and her jaw dropped a little. “Oh, I don’t think...” she trailed off.

“Oh come now, you can’t be TOO surprised. I know all about you. You’re smart. More than that, you’re hard-working. But your entire adult life you’ve been struggling to prove yourself, because of who you are, and because of that body of yours. Because of the way men look at you with desire, and women look at you with envy, and desire, too. Sound familiar?”

She closed her mouth and said nothing. His question didn’t need an answer.

“Yet, you’re torn,” he continued. “You love the attention; you love the way it makes you feel to be objectified, to be made into an object other people lust after. Which is why you go to the clubs at night, where you can take off the mask you wear during the day and let that other side of you out. That’s where you heard about me, after all. You didn’t think it was by accident, did you?”

She considered. “I suppose it didn’t occur to me. I certainly had no idea just how... how REAL this place was.”

“Well, I’m a little disappointed,” he admitted, “I expected a girl as clever as yourself to have more of an inkling. It doesn’t change anything, of course.”

A moment of silence passed between them. Over by the table, Becky’s punishment session had quickly devolved as Amy was now rapidly fingering Becky’s pussy and licking up the juices from it. Lucy, meanwhile, breathed heavily in her bondage, sweat glistening on her skin and giant tits, and occasionally trembled as Emma assumed another electric shock ran through her.

“What doesn’t it change?” Emma asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Why, that you’re here to become one of my slaves, of course,” he answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Emma shifted in her seat uncomfortably, her heart beating more rapidly. “What makes you assume something like that?”

“Because, I can give you what you’ve always wanted. Show you what it is to be made into someone else’s personal plaything. Degraded, dehumanized, objectified... used and appreciated exclusively for that tight little body of yours, that you’ve spent so many years trying to keep hidden and contain, and keep from interfering in this professional life you’ve built for yourself.”

Emma’s pulse was racing. “You don’t actually expect me to give up my entire life, my career, to become... like them, do you?” She gestured off towards the costumed girls, now writing and sixty-nining on the ground.

“What I expect doesn’t matter. What matters is what you’ll do in order to let your inner slut out. You’ve been repressing yourself so long that it’s already begun boiling over, which is why you’re at the clubs so often, being dominated and having anonymous sex. This is the next step, whether your realize it or not.” He smiled, and put away his newspaper. “Now, stand up, and turn around slowly for me.”

She hesitated a moment, considering his words, then deciding it was innocent enough, stood up and began to turn around for him. “Do you like what you see?” she asked him, a bit ironically, to convey that she was humouring him.

“I’ll know better once I can see it more clearly,” he responded. “Take off the blouse and skirt.”

She paused in her turning, and faced him. “You’re awfully bold,” she said.

“Only because I know the person that’s truly under the mask,” he responded. “You can justify it to yourself any way that you want. You can tell yourself that you’re doing it for the story, that you’re just going to stay for the weekend and then go back and write your article. It doesn’t matter what excuses you make to yourself; I don’t care. Now, no more talking. Those clothes are inappropriate for a body like yours. Take them off, or leave my home.”

She paused, trying to think through what he had just said, then slowly found herself unbuttoning her blouse, pulling it open to expose her ripe, firm tits in a light blue bra made of lace. She was astutely aware that Becky and Amy over by the table had put a hold on their lovemaking in order to watch with interest. She let the blouse drop to the ground, then unzipped her skirt and wiggled it over her hips until it dropped to the ground as well, exposing her matching thong panties. She had been naked in the sex clubs, but for some reason felt more exposed than ever before.

“Show me what I’m appropriating,” he continued.

Embarrassed, she raised her arms above her head and slowly turned around again, so that he could see her figure full-on, skinny body and lithe limbs, with C-cup breasts and a tight ass that showed through her thong.

“I see you’re naturally blonde,” he said, and she blushed. “Now, the rest of it.”

Again she hesitated, before unclasping her bra in the back and letting it slide down her arms and onto the pile of clothes in front of her. She then put two thumbs into the elastic of her panties and slid them down as well, stepping out of them and fully exposing her trimmed blonde pussy.

“Excellent,” he smiled. “Amy?” He called, and the redheaded girl immediately leapt up and dashed to his side, standing at attention with her arms behind her back, chained tits thrust out and legs spread. “Take Emma here over to the slave quarters. Have her fitted with a collar and chains, and then bring her back. We’ll start her training immediately, won’t we?”

“Yes, sir!” she said gleefully, then went over to Emma, took her arm and led her back towards the house.

Reclining in his chaise lounge, the master smiled to himself as he watched the two girls heading off, Emma nervously peeking back over her shoulder. This was a good morning, he thought, as he watched his new slave’s naked, supple body disappear into the house, no idea yet what was in store for it.

Of course, there was every chance he had misjudged her, but at night he would run her through the same initial procedure that Lucy had gone through, so there wouldn’t be a problem either way.

“Becky?” he called, opening his robe to reveal his stiff member. Becky obligingly walked over and knelt down next to him, reached into her mouth to remove the dentures she was wearing and placed them on the ground next to her, then placed her hands behind her back and began bobbing her toothless mouth up and down on his shaft. Over by the pool he heard another moan come from behind the gag, as Lucy wracked in her restraints.

A good morning, indeed.

THE END