BDSM Library - Interview of a Slavegirl

Interview of a Slavegirl

Provided By: BDSM Library
www.bdsmlibrary.com



Synopsis: A slavegirl takes the next step in her training.
Interview of a slavegirl

By slave kelli

	I arrived at my Master's house promptly at 12:00 noon as I had been
ordered to the night before.  Master Robert had paged me and informed me to be
at his house for a training session.  I had been Master's slave for about four
months, during which time he had taught me the proper way to address my Master,
dress, present myself for inspection and display, pleasure Master with my mouth
and tongue, and cook and clean to his specifications.  In particular, I was to
keep the basement dungeon very clean, which included oiling the many whips that
were there, checking the equipment for any damage, and mopping the floor and so
forth.  A small cage was also available in the dungeon, and I was to make sure
this was always tidy.  I was never allowed to sleep with Master but, instead,
stayed in the cage overnight when told to do so.
	
	I made sure of two things when I arrived at Master's house: to be on
time and to dress appropriately.  I had once been a few minutes late when I
stopped to check on some people who were having car trouble, but quickly learned
that this was unacceptable behavior.  Master was greatly displeased when I
arrived that day and gave me a lash with his crop for each minute I was late. 
It was the first time that I was disciplined so harshly and the memory of the
pain was deeply seared into my mind.  There was no way I ever wanted to
experience that again.
	
	Secondly was my attire.  I was 5'3", 124 lbs., with long, wavy brown
hair and brown eyes, 34c-25-34, and quite fit.  The latter was ensured by an
extensive exercise regimen assigned by Master.  The end result, however, was
that I had a killer body and it greatly complimented my very pretty looks.  I
was dressed to complement my body as I had been previously trained to do.  As a
result, I wore a skimpy sundress with spaghetti straps that hung low in front
and high on my thighs.  I could not wear a bra with this outfit but it didn't
really matter as my breasts were ample enough to hold the dress in place.  I was
permitted panties in public, though never in private, and wore silk ones to
match the dress.  Finally, I wore nice heels as well as Master's prescribed
perfume.  I had bathed and closely shaven that morning as well, taking extra
care around the pubic area.
	
	I rang the doorbell with great anticipation, looking forward to my
training session.  I was sure it would involve a reinforcement of things we had
worked on previously, such as cleaning different areas of the house, preparing
lunch, and pleasuring Master.  Our training sessions had always involved
one-on-one interactions and been private, thus allowing me to quickly learn what
I needed to as a slavegirl.  Master was a controlling Dominant in the Gorean
style who clearly enjoyed giving me commands and having me obey them.  He was
extremely intelligent, the owner of several electronics stores, and quite
competitive in athletic contests of various sorts.  He was handsome as well and
I enjoyed being at his side in public.  I believed too that he appreciated my
beauty and intelligence and ability to maintain a good conversation.  All in all
things had gone quite well, I thought.
	
	Master answered the door after a long period of time, much longer than
usual.  I smiled brightly at him and he gestured for me to enter.  The house was
beautiful as always, with large spaces, gorgeous furniture, and flowers
everywhere.  Master certainly enjoyed his possessions.  I followed him to the
living room and he sat down, looking at me.  I was a little uncomfortable
because he had not spoken yet, and wondered briefly if I had gotten the time
right.  But I had.
	
	I was not told to sit or kneel, but simply stood there as Master
examined me.  I straightened my back a bit more to heave my breasts and give him
a good show.  Then he spoke.
	
	"Your slave contract expires today at 1:00, did you remember that?"
	
	I had.  "Yes, Master Robert, I did remember that."
	
	"Your training has gone quite well, don't you think?
	
	"Yes, Master Robert, I believe it has gone very well."  I smiled.
	
	"As I mentioned at the beginning of your training, there are different
levels of training, each more difficult than the last.  Are you interested in
continuing your training?"
	
	"Yes, Master Robert, very much so."
	
	"This is your only chance to back out, otherwise I have another
four-month contract for you to sign."
	
	"Yes, Master Robert, I will be happy to sign another contract."
	
	"You realize you can go freely now and I will give you all the pictures
and video that I have of your training?"
	
	Master had filmed me in many compromising positions over the past month
and told me that, should I leave the contract prematurely, the film would be
released to my co-workers and boss.  I knew I would be utterly humiliated should
that happen, and didn't dare leave the contract.  But I had greatly enjoyed the
past four months and wished to continue.
	
	"Yes, Master Robert, but I wish to stay."
	
	"Very well, sign here, but remember the next phase is more difficult."
	
	Without thinking about it very much, I hurried over to the contract.  It
was placed on the table in such a way that I had to kneel to sign it, but did
so.  Master took the contract and pen and carefully filed them away.  He then
returned to me as I continued to kneel.  I was sure that I would be allowed at
that point to pleasure him with my mouth and tongue and soft hands, but was in
for a bit of a surprise.
	
	"Your attire for today is in the dungeon.  Change into it and return
here."
	
	"Yes, Master Robert."
	
	I walked to the dungeon door and went down the steps.  On a small table
was a neon orange thong bikini with bright orange 4" spiked heels.  Both were
garish but I placed them on as ordered and checked myself in the mirror.  I
flicked my hair and jiggled my breasts a bit - my I was a pretty thing!  Lastly
I put on my thick leather slave collar with a single ring for a leash.
	
	I returned to the living room and to Master.  Strangely, he did not seem
all that interested in my outfit, not even bothering to see me in my cute
figure.  Instead, he made a simple statement.
	
	"You are a slavegirl and will address all men you meet this weekend as
"Sir," do you understand that?
	
	What did that mean?  "Y-yes, Master Robert, all men I meet this weekend
are to be addressed as "Sir."
	
	Just then the doorbell rang and my heart skipped a beat.  "Answer the
door and show hospitality, slut."
	
	"Y-yes, Master Robert," I stammered, stunned by the fact that another
would be joining us, that I was dressed like this before someone else, and that
I was referred to as slut by my Master.  He had never said that before.
	
	I walked carefully to the door in my heels and opened it.  There stood a
man much like Master, tall, well-built, confident, and clearly a Dominant.  I
stood motionless for a second before I recovered.
	
	"Greetings, Sir, please come in."
	
	He said nothing to me but did enter and shook hands with Master.  I was
mortified at my position and attire, and blushed heavily.  I suddenly felt very
self-conscious and vulnerable.  Master spoke.
	
	"Girl, prepare us lunch quickly."  He was very stern.
	
	"Y-yes, Master Robert."  I walked nervously to the kitchen and quickly
prepared a delightful lunch of crab salad, soup, cookies, and soft drinks.  I
was hungry as well, not eating before because I figured I would eat with Master
as always.  I was wrong.
	
	The two men ate at the kitchen table as I served them lunch.  I tried to
be a bit playful with Master, rubbing my thigh against him gently but got no
reaction.  Why?  During lunch, I refilled drinks and served seconds, then
cleaned up as the men retired to the living room.  I could hear muffled voices
but could not make out what they were saying.  After cleanup, I returned to the
living room.  Both men stared at me.  Master spoke.
	
	"slut, you will be questioned by Whipmaster.  You will answer his
questions truthfully and to the best of your ability.  Do you understand?"
	
	"Yes, Master Robert."  I was motioned to kneel before Whipmaster and did
so nervously.  He did not hesitate.
	
	"Who are you, slut?"
	
	"My name is kelli, uh, my Master is Master Robert, Sir."
	
	"What is the purpose of a slavegirl, slut?"
	
	"To obey her Master, Sir"  I was very nervous now.
	
	"How are you disciplined, slut?"
	
	"Through the crop, sexual deprivation, and neglect from my Master, Sir."
	
	I could tell these were unsatisfactory answers but wasn't sure why. 
Whipmaster's tone was one of irritation.
	
	"What do you think about during the day, slut?"
	
	I had been told to be truthful.  "Work, bills, errands, and Master of
course, Sir."
	
	"Why do slavegirls and Masters exist, slut?"
	
	I had only thought about this in the abstract a few times, and stammered
in trying to answer.  I started to when I was cut off.  "That's enough,"
Whipmaster said.  "Yes, Sir."  But he was not talking to me.  Master then spoke.
	
	"Whipmaster has been very kind in coming here today and spending his
valuable time with the likes of you, slut.  It is time to properly thank him. 
"Thank you, Sir," I said naively.  Master shook his head.
	
	"No, I mean pleasure him."  At that point, Whipmaster stood close before
me, his crotch in my face, smelling of sex and Dominance.
	
	"W-what?," I stammered.  I had never had to pleasure another man during
my training, and my head was spinning.
	
	Whipmaster spoke.  "It is clear she needs a marathon session, I agree. 
We can proceed."  Master then spoke.
	
	"slut, you will do everything you are told to do today and tomorrow. 
You will do it quickly and without hesitation or you will be released from your
contract and the film sent out.  Do you understand?"
	
	The stern tone in his voice meant I had better respond quickly.  "Yes,
Master, I understand, I will do as I am told."
	
	"Get into the car, front seat."
	
	"Yes, Master."  I scurried to the car and sat in the front seat as
Master drove and Whipmaster rode in the back.  The weather was cool this spring
day, not hot, and my nipples shot forth through the shoddy fabric of my bikini
top.  The thong was now buried deep into my crack but I didn't dare remove it. 
I sat motionless.  Master spoke.
	
	"You will sit up in your chair upright at all times and do as you are
told without the slightest bit of hesitation or you will be punished severely
and released from your contract.  Do you understand, slut?"
	
	"Yes, Master, I understand" as my head hung low in respect and
submission.  What was going to happen to me?
	
	Master drove around town silently for a while, seemingly aimlessly, as I
squirmed nervously in my seat.  I was in a car with two very Dominant Masters
and was dressed as skimpily as could be.  I found myself horrified and excited
at the same time, and also quite intimidated.  I was now in a position where
these two men could do virtually anything to me.  I knew that my only ticket out
was complete and utter obedience.  I was their slave.
	
	Master drove to a convenience store, very busy this afternoon, and
handed me a five-dollar bill.  "Go in and get me a pack of gum."  I was stunned
at the request but knew again from his tone that he was very serious.  "Yes,
Master," I quickly said and went into the store.
	
	I was very out of place.  The store was in a less than upscale part of
town and there was plenty of trashy people there.  Still, no one was dressed in
an orange thong bikini and heels as I was.  As soon as I walked in all eyes were
upon me, specifically my breasts and ass.  Worse, there was a line at the
counter.  I retrieved the gum and stood in line, feeling everyone's eyes and
hearing so much snickering and laughing.  I was utterly humiliated and
embarrassed, so much so that I could not even raise my head.  When it was
finally my turn at the counter, I placed the gum down and handed over the money. 
The clerk did not immediately respond, instead taking time to leer at my chest. 
All the sexiness I felt earlier was gone.  Instead, I was a piece of meat to be
stared at.  After what seemed like the longest time, I paid and ran out of the
store to the car, head lowered.  I had learned my lesson and looked forward to
going home.  I was not so lucky.
	
	Master drove to another convenience store and parked.  "You didn't get
any gum for Whipmaster.  You will do so now.  In addition, you are not to run at
any time, but walk very slowly and sashay as you do.  Do you understand, slut?"
	
	I closed my eyes very briefly but quickly answered, "Yes, Master."  I
repeated the scenario from earlier, again feeling humiliated and embarrassed as
I sashayed around.  Once again, all eyes were on my breasts and ass and the
laughter continued.  As a beautiful women, I was always used to compliments on
my figure and was able to tease men with my body.  Not now.  Now I was simply a
piece of ass on display for men.  The thought excited and horrified me, but I
was learning something.
	
	Returning to the car, the humiliation scene was played out all over town
in convenience stores, gas stations, restaurants, and other very public places. 
Each time, my requirements were made more stringent - more delay, more display,
more conversations with strangers, more sluttiness.  By the end of the
afternoon, I was thoroughly humiliated and broken.  I would have done anything
to make it stop, even pleasure Whipmaster.  Master and Whipmaster knew this, of
course.  Master spoke.
	
	"Do you wish this to end, slut?"
	
	My head was hung low in respect and submission.  Gone was the
familiarity with which I had called "Master Robert" before.  He was now simply
"Master."
	
	"Yes, Master."
	
	"Do you have anything else to say?"
	
	"Yes, Master, slut apologizes profusely for her earlier hesitation and
will obey quickly and willingly, Master.  She understands her place and will
obey without hesitation, Master."  I meant every word.  At this point, I would
do anything I was told.  Both men knew this, of course.  I was their slave.
	
	Arriving home, I was told to strip and go to the dungeon.  Without even
thinking about Whipmaster's presence, I stripped quickly as ordered and scurried
to the dungeon.  Gone was the walking I did before, now I jumped quickly at
Master's command.  In the dungeon I was placed in a special stock that forced my
head near the floor and my slave ass raised high.  My arms and neck were secured
as were my legs.  My slave ass was now very exposed.  I wondered what my next
training involved.  I didn't have to wait long.
	
	Master took a very thick belt from the wall and struck my slave ass
hard.  I writhed and squirmed in sharp pain, as it was much different from the
crop.  He did so again, in the same place, causing tears to come.  It hurt.  He
then struck the opposite side, even harder.  It felt as if my slave ass would
explode.  He continued to lash me, always on the same spot, the same welt, so
that my discipline would be all that more intense.  Whipmaster watched but did
not participate.  Master expertly changed the length of time between lashes so
that I did not know when the next would hit, giving it even more effect.  My
body writhed and I yearned to communicate to Master.  Finally, I was given the
chance.
	
	"Do you wish more punishment, slut?
	
	Quickly I replied "NO, Master!!"
	
	"What have you learned today so far?"
	
	I took advantage of the opening.
	
	 "That slut is to do as she is told without hesitation and as quickly as
possible, Master.  That she is to respect Master and do as she is told at all
times.  She is a slave and the property of Master, and she is thankful and
grateful for her collar.  She is to honor Master by obeying him completely, and
by showing proper respect.  She will be a devoted piece of property and continue
to beg for her slavery, which is a privilege for her.  She is proud to be the
slut slave property of Master!"
	
	"You have one other thing to learn, slut"
	
	Both Masters then took turns splitting my anus with their cocks, causing
me to shriek in discomfort.  However, the apparatus I was in only allowed my to
offer my slave ass to them, and after some time I did so more willingly.  My
slave ass was the property of Master, after all, what could I do?  Whipmaster
interviewed me again.
	
	"Who are you, slut?"
	
	"The devoted property and slut slave of Master, Sir."
	
	"What is the purpose of a slavegirl, slut?"
	
	"To obey, serve, please, and arouse her Master, Sir, in every way and
without hesitation."
	
	"How are you disciplined, slut?"
	
	"As Master wishes, Sir, for my education and for his pleasure."
	
	 "What do you think about during the day, slut?"
	
	"Only how to better please and serve Master, Sir."
	
	"Why do slavegirls and Masters exist, slut?"
	
	"It is the natural order of things, Sir."
	
	Whipmaster nodded and I was released to kneel before them.  I knew now
my only value to them was my mouth and slave tits and ass.  I also knew my
training was to continue even more harshly the next day.  For I had seen Master
earlier reading the want ads for an exotic dancer in a strip club.  I knew very
soon I would be stripping, dancing, serving drinks, and profiting for men and
Master.  I was a slavegirl.


Part 2

	Following my interview I was instructed to stand before Master and
Whipmaster, naked except for my collar and heels.  My head was lowered in
respect and submission, my arms to my side.  My slave ass was still inflamed
from the abuse that it had been subjected to, and moving about only made it
worse.  Therefore, I was relatively still and on display for the two Dominants
in front of me.  They lingered before speaking to me, no doubt inspecting their
property and hopefully deriving some pleasure from it, for that would mean less
punishment for me.  Master spoke.
	
	"We have one more thing to show you tonight, slut.  Turn your attention
to the television."
	
	"Yes, Master."  I quickly complied.
	
	What I saw next nearly made me faint, as Whipmaster placed a tape in the
VCR and pushed "play."  It was a recording of one of my last assignments in the
convenience stores, one where I had been instructed to remove my bikini top and
strut around the store.  At one point, I had stopped and jiggled a bit as Master
had told me to do.  Everyone around the store was naturally gawking and laughing
and snickering, and all I wanted to do was to get out as quickly as possible. 
And here it was on tape.  Whipmaster stopped the tape and spoke to me.
	
	"Should you break any part of your slave contract or not obey every
command henceforth without hesitation and as enthusiastically as possible, then
this tape and all of the previous material we have on you will be released to
your co-workers and family.  In addition, you will be severely punished and
humiliated if you are permitted to keep your collar.  Do you understand, slut?"
	
	"Yes, Sir, slut understands, Sir.  She values her collar and wishes not
to dishonor her Master in any way.  She will obey fully and with great
dedication and enthusiasm, Sir."  I meant every word.  The humiliation and pain
would be crushing.  Oddly, I thought, though, the idea that I would not be able
to serve these Dominants was most awful.  They had begun to enslave my mind to
the point that not serving them would be as painful as the whip or my
humiliation.  Both Master and Whipmaster knew this, of course, and were working
it to their complete advantage.  Master spoke.
	
	"Do you wish to keep your collar, slut?"  Both men saw my knees buckle a
bit at the question, no doubt giving them great pleasure.
	
	My eyes shot to the floor.  I wanted to be as submissive as possible. 
"Yes, Master, very much so, her collar is this slut's most prized gift from her
Master.  She wears it with great pride and thanks Master for the honor and
privilege of allowing her to wear it, Master."
	
	"Very well, up against the wall for chaining."
	
	"Yes, Master."  I ran quickly to the wall, arms up to be chained so that
my face was nearly touching the wall.  I had hoped that Master and Whipmaster
would simply leave me there, but instead I was pulled up so that I could remain
only on my tiptoes.  This helped tighten my already taut ass and thigh muscles. 
Master spoke.
	
	"In the store today you did not jiggle as much as we would have liked. 
You will learn to obey your commands enthusiastically or the whipping you are
about to receive will be a daily occurrence, and much worse.  Is that clear,
slut?"
	
	Master was a harsh, strict, Gorean-like disciplinarian who tolerated no
disrespect, disobedience, or deviation from his commands.  I was learning very
quickly that any independent thought of my own, any independent interpretation
of Master's order, was not to be tolerated or unpunished in any way.  I was to
be a mindless slavegirl, concentrating only on Master's commands and obeying
utterly, completely, enthusiastically, and without a shred of delay.  Any
violation of that rule was to be punished severely.
	
	I could hear Master and Whipmaster both choose whips.  Both lashed the
whips in the air once so I could hear them, and I could tell they were heavy
ones.  Without warning one of them lashed my bottom, causing it to sear in pain
and me to howl.  It felt as though my pretty, fleshy slave ass had been split in
two.  No sooner then the ripples of sensation just begun to barely fade then the
second lash fell, this time from another whip and nearly in the same spot.  This
whip was much bigger and wider, and hurt so much that I was barely able to
scream.  I nearly fainted from the shock and could not even stand, my knees
buckling and my eyes tearing.  I was terrified of more lashes but only silence
remained.  My body crumpled as my legs weakened, and I was allowed a respite. 
After a period of several minutes, which seemed liked hours, I was released to
again stand before Master and Whipmaster.  Master spoke.
	
	"You may answer my question now, slut, do you understand?"
	
	I understood all too well.  "Yes, Master, your slave slut understands
well.  She is to obey Master's commands completely, enthusiastically, and
without delay.  Otherwise she will be whipped and punished in other ways on a
daily occurrence, Master.  She only wishes to obey, serve, please, and arouse
her Master and will work hard to do so, Master."
	
	"Very well, present yourself."
	
	"Yes, Master."  I knelt, naked in my heels and collar, thighs parted for
display, arms back, back arched to heave my slave breasts and nipples, head
lowered in respect and submission.
	
	"You may pleasure us, slut."
	
	"Yes, Master, thank you, Master."  I could hardly believe what I was
saying, but I was so grateful that the punishment of the day had ended, at least
temporarily, that I eagerly pleasured both Master and Whipmaster with my hot,
wet slave mouth.  I found myself so happy for the opportunity to please both of
them, to show that their slave was now ready and eager to serve, that I bobbed
and licked and jiggled like never before.  I knew that I had done a good job
because both men came rather quickly, and I cleaned them well.  I was so
grateful for the privilege.  Master spoke.
	
	"You may thank us now for your training today."
	
	"Yes, Master."  I had learned my lesson about the need to be submissive,
to do more than simply say "Thank you."  I therefore got on my belly onto the
floor and placed my arms in back of me, my face planted firmly into Master's
foot.  I licked and kissed both filthy feet and was glad to do so.  I did the
same with Whipmaster's feet before I was ordered to my feet.  I obeyed very
quickly, and lowered my head again in respect and submission.
	
	Upon doing so I was chained with very heavy chains on my wrists and
ankles.  In addition, a smaller chain was attached to my collar and then to the
other chains, ensuring that I was not going anywhere.  I was then led to the
small cage in the dungeon and placed inside.  It had a small cot and blanket but
nothing else.  Master closed the door behind me and I was a naked, collared,
chained, caged slave.  I had been stripped bare of any dignity.  Master and
Whipmaster turned to leave the dungeon.  As they did so, I pressed my slave
breasts up against the bars in a vain attempt for leniency (I knew better then
to speak without being spoken to first).  I thought that perhaps the sexiness of
it would spur Master to treat his slut with some compassion.  Instead, both men
exited the dungeon without even turning around to look at me, and turned out the
light.  I laid on my cot and thought about the day.  I wanted to masturbate but
had not been given permission to do so.  If I touched Master's pussy without
permission I would be severely whipped.  I lay in the darkness and waited for
morning, rubbing my sore slave ass, and wondering what was next for me.
	
	Morning came.  Master entered the dungeon, turned on the light, and
motioned for  me to stand.  I obeyed as quickly as I could given the heavy
chains and lowered my head.  The cage door was opened and my chains were
removed.  I was nervous, wondering if I would be whipped again, but stood
motionless waiting for my command.  My world had been reduced to what Master
would tell me to do, and my obedience after that.  I was either listening to a
command or carrying out the command.  The tightness of my slave collar reminded
me of who I was.  Master spoke.
	
	"You are to make breakfast for Whipmaster and myself.  The menu is
upstairs in the kitchen.  Move!"
	
	"Yes, Master," I said before scurrying up the stairs, my slave breasts
and ass jiggling well and my feet still in heels from the day before.  I quickly
reached the kitchen to begin my domestic service.  I was an excellent cook, a
trait Master had considered when agreeing to train me.  I was happy to cook for
two reasons.  One, it meant no punishment and two, I was starving, having not
eaten since early the day before.  That didn't matter, of course, as I was a
slave and Master's needs were paramount.
	
	Both men sat at the table as I served pancakes, bacon, poached eggs,
pastries, juice, and coffee.  Both ate with a voracious appetite, although I was
not allowed to do so.  Gone was my playfulness from the day before.  Fear of
another bullwhipping and extensive humiliation made me very attentive to their
beck and call.  I knew that any mistake would be costly for me, and hoped that
my nude form would provide an attractive backdrop for their meal.  However, I
was largely ignored.
	
	Following the meal and cleanup (also my responsibility), I was permitted
to eat some bland cream-of-wheat from a dog dish.  I had to kneel down to do so,
sticking my slave ass high in the air as I ate.  I was so hungry that I was
grateful for the opportunity to eat and drink.  I cleaned up this meal and
returned to Master for my next command, standing with my head lowered in respect
and submission.  This continued for nearly an hour, during which time I wondered
why I had not been given any command.  I began to realize that I was there for a
reason, perhaps to teach me that Master can command me at any time, and I must
be ready.  Finally, Master spoke.
	
	"You may shower and primp, slut, for you have a full day ahead of you. 
Take your time to look your best, though I know you have not much to work with. 
Your outfit will be waiting for you.  Go."
	
	"Yes, Master."  I scurried to the bathroom to shower as I was filthy
from the day and night before.  I had always thought of myself as pretty, even
stunning, but from Master's comment began to wonder about my appearance.  My
body was curved, taut, and ravishing, but my self-esteem about it was now low. 
Maybe it was not good enough to please men, especially Dominant Men.  What could
I do to become more alluring?  I didn't know, and had to rely on my training to
help answer that question.
	
	Following extensive showering, grooming, and primping, I placed on the
outfit chosen for me.  It was a tight-fitting sundress, flower-print, that
barely covered my slave breasts and pussy.  It felt like it was painted on me,
and it was difficult to sit in it.  Surprisingly, I was allowed to wear a silk
thong for underwear, a luxury I was almost never permitted (I was always to be
on display for Master).  Less surprising were the high heels I was required to
wear, understated but difficult to wear and excellent for tightening my leg
muscles.  I stared at myself in the mirror for several minutes, doing some final
primping so that Master would be pleased.
	
	I stood before Master and Whipmaster like a horse on display at a fair. 
I wanted to be inspected and found worthy of some attention, but was instead
told to get into the car.  I wondered if I was to humiliate myself topless in
convenience stores again, but wasn't wearing the bikini from the day before. 
Instead, we drove to a shady part of town and next to a tattoo shop.  I was
totally confused, but ordered out of the car and inside.  Master and Whipmaster
shook hands with the owner, who thoroughly looked me up and down, smiling
crookedly as he did so.  I was nervous but that didn't matter to the men.  What
mattered was that my time had come for branding.
	
	 I was led to a small room full of equipment and told to stand before
the owner.  He sat down in front of me and placed his hand on my inner thigh,
pressuring it to move away from my other thigh.  I complied, instinctively
knowing that any disobedience or resistance would be severely punished.  The
owner then began to place a tattoo in my inner thigh.  I was horrified that my
body was being altered or changed without my consent, but knew there was nothing
I could do.  I had signed a 4-month slave contract and was bound to it until
then.  I could leave then but not until then.  The instrument bit into my flesh,
causing me to gasp in pain, but I was not permitted to move and didn't dare to. 
The procedure took several minutes.
	
	When finished, my left inner thigh was marked with a "?"  Master
explained.
	
	"Slut, you are now marked with the symbol for kajira, or a Gorean slave
girl.  Whenever you look at the thigh it will remind you of your status as a
slavegirl, and others who see it who understand will also know."
	
	"Yes, Master, thank you, Master, for this exquisite gift.  Your
slavegirl is most thankful and will work hard to obey, serve, please, and arouse
Master."  I said these words without hardly thinking and without any care about
the shop owner.  That surprised me, but I realized I was becoming a well-trained
slavegirl.  However, what I saw next showed me that I had a ways to go.
	
	The shop owner clapped his hands once and out popped an absolutely
stunning woman of immense beauty.  She appeared as if from nowhere, long,
straight blonde hair, blue eyes, incredibly well-proportioned with gorgeous
legs, long arms, and perky breasts.  She could not have been more than 20 years
old.  Most striking was the fact that she was naked, in heels, with a thick
leathered slave collar.  She stood next to the shop owner, a grizzly man in his
late 40s, motionless and with eyes lowered.  It was obvious that she was his
slave, but even more than that, a very well-trained slavegirl.  She was totally
oblivious to anyone else in the room, not caring that she was naked and
collared.  All she focused on were her Master's words and his commands.  As soon
as he spoke, she instinctively listened and moved extraordinarily quickly to
obey.  He did not even have to tell her to move quickly, as she did so.
	
	"Drinks for these men."
	
	"Yes, Master," the girl replied, slipping out quickly and returning
almost as quickly for Master and Whipmaster (as a slave, of course, I was not
entitled to such hospitality).  The girl knelt before the two men, her head
lowered as she lifted the drinks to them.  They took it without a word and the
girl remained where she was, not daring to move until told to do so.  As Master,
Whipmaster, and the shop owner chatted, I kept my gaze on the girl.  She did not
move a muscle until several minutes later when the shop owner clapped his hands
twice and she receded from view.  I could tell that she was absolutely terrified
of her Master and of disobeying him.  I shuddered to think what training had
brought her to the point of a mindless bimbo slut who was incapable of anything
but strict and immediate obedience to her Master.  After all, she was an
exceedingly beautiful woman who could have any number of men at her feet. 
Instead, she was completely controlled by this decidedly unattractive, balding
tattoo shop owner.  It was only later on that I realized she was there for my
benefit.  I found myself horrified, fascinated, and even envious of the
slavegirl whose entire world surrounded her obedience, control, and punishment.
	
	Back in the car, I had so many questions but was not permitted to speak. 
Above all, I wondered how the gorgeous blonde ended up in the position she was. 
I was too naive to know that the path she took was the one I was currently on.
	
	Master drove only a short way to a topless strip club.  Upon stopping,
he attached a very small microphone to my high heel (recall he owned several
electronics stores).  He then spoke to me.
	
	"Slut, there is an opening for a strip dancer here, and I have arranged
an interview for you.  You will go in, find the manager, and interview for the
position.  I will hear everything that goes on, so any attempt to sabotage this
interview will be severely punished.  You are to do what the manager says, and
be sure you do what is necessary to secure the position.  I know this is a lot
for a slut to understand, but do you?"
	
	Inside of me, there was slight hesitation but I did not dare show it on
the outside.  "Yes, Master," I replied, "slut understands and will secure the
position, Master, she thanks you for the opportunity to serve and please her
Master."
	
	I then entered the club.  My head was spinning at the prospect of
stripping before so many men, my breasts shimmering on the dance floor.  But,
what could I do?  I had to obey.  I walked past the men sitting at tables, a
variety of professionals, working-class stiffs, and low-lifes.  The place was
dingy and filthy.  The dancer on stage was gyrating for her audience, dressed
only in a thong and heels.  She was beautiful, but the men around her mostly
gave her catcalls and laughs.  I asked for the manager and was escorted into a
small office.  The owner looked me up and down in my tight-fitting sundress and
I found myself immediately straightening up for display.  He spoke.
	
	"Why should I give you this job when you have no experience?"
	
	"I am a fast learner, Sir, and very motivated to do well here.  I will
do as I am told and will work hard at dancing, serving drinks, and anything else
I am needed for, Sir.  I will work what hours you say and be grateful for them."
	
	"I see, well, I have to determine how motivated you are, and how well
you listen.  I also have to see the merchandise to see if you have any chance of
earning me a dime, so strip completely for inspection."
	
	I was thrown off by the command but knew I had to comply, especially
with Master listening to every word.  I didn't understand why I had to strip
completely when it was only a topless joint, but quickly disrobed.  Almost
instinctively and without being told, I placed my hands on my head so that my
wares could be fully displayed.  I knew by now that it was my slave breasts and
ass that mattered most, so these had to be displayed prominently.  I was simply
a piece of ass that could be of some service to men making money.
	
	The owner walked around me slowly, not touching me but examining every
inch of my body.  I was humiliated but also hopeful that I would be found to be
of some use.  He then opened the door and let in several bouncers and regular
patrons, about 15 in all, who came in to inspect the new piece of meat.  By now
I was thoroughly humiliated as several snickered and no one seemed appreciative
of my body.  I had been so used to teasing men with my body before but now I was
constantly surrounded by men who were not intimidated by my curves.  Instead,
they saw me only as a piece of merchandise to be bought, sold, rented, and used,
like the slavegirl in the tattoo shop.  Each man took his turn examining me
closely, including my new brand.  Some took note of the whip marks on my slave
ass and chuckled.  They knew.
	
	The owner dismissed the other men and told me I was hired.  I kept my
hands on my head for inspection but thanked the man for his generosity to me. 
Here I was, thanking a man who had just utterly humiliated me and inspected me
at length.  A man who would be making considerable money off my wares.  I felt
as though I was his slave as well.  I was given my hours, told to dress, and
dismissed.
	
	Back in the car, Master and Whipmaster nodded and drove to a secluded
spot.  I knew from the bulges in their pants what I would be commanded to do
next.  I was relieved that I was allowed to do so, because it meant my
performance in the strip club was adequate.  I knew too that my training had
just begun, that I was about to endure humiliations I had never experienced
before.  But I knew it could last only four months before I could withdraw from
the slave contract if I wanted to.  But, as I said before, I was naive.


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