A Slave Made From a Slut

/This is the sequel to "A Slut is Born," which can be found under the list of works on my author page. I encourage feedback and voting, as this is an ongoing story./

I woke up in a dog carrier, one of the big ones, in a garage. I couldn't see anything out of the holes except a Cadillac close by and a row of carefully arranged bins. It was probably the cleanest garage I'd ever seen, nothing like back at home. The plastic floor of the carrier hurt my knees, I was scrunched up and naked, even a little cold. I realized I'd been bathed, my hair was down, and my nails had been clipped off.

I stuck my fingers through the wire door and tried to open the latch but it was difficult to hold both sides because it was spring loaded. I tried to move around to see if I could push it open, but the cage was only big enough for me to sit scrunched down or lay on my side with my legs pulled up. I rocked back and forth, but I couldn't knock it over, so I yelled for help.

A door opened, out of my vision, and a pair of legs entered my vision. Fear immediately set in, for some reason it took that long for me to realize that whoever had put me in here had now entered the room. I pushed into the back of the carrier and waited, a face appeared. He probably was about 50, dressed like a lawyer, with shots of gray through his hair. He seemed athletic, like he might've played football in high school or college. I tried to cover myself and he smiled.

"Awake, I see."

He stood up and I heard a clink above me. When he leaned down again I saw the leather straps folded over in his hand. Clean, tidy, as if they were merely a newspaper or a magazine. Silence overcame me, I said nothing.

"You have one chance, now, to take them and put them on yourself."

I couldn't move back any further. He opened the little door, the springs squeaked.

"Do you understand?"

I was dumbfounded, maybe it was whatever he'd drugged me with. Maybe it was the arresting feeling of being exposed. Maybe it was the only meanings of the straps, the carrier, and the words that he said.

His face softened. He put the straps on top of the cage and reached out to me.

"C'mon sweetie, there's nothing to be afraid of."

I crawled out, it was difficult and for a moment I was on my hands and knees at his feet. I started to stand but he put a hand on my shoulders.

"No, stay there."

He dropped the straps in front of me.

"Last chance, put 'em on or I put them on you."

I picked up one of the straps and looked up at him. I started crying, part of it was real fear and the rest of it was hope that it'd hit a heart string. Habit, maybe, I blubbered.

"PleaseletmegohomeIjustwanttogohome."

"Your brother sold you to me."

I stopped crying.

"Time's up."

Faster than I could react to, faster than I could've expected, he pushed me to the ground and fastened a strap around my waist, I curled up in a ball but it didn't matter, he put straps on my wrists and just above my knees, I didn't notice how constricted I was until he picked me up under my arms and sat me up. He stepped away.

I could kneel with my hands at my sides and nothing more. I had to keep my legs apart to keep some balance, my breasts pushed out, the feeling of nakedness seemed as distinctive as a scent or a painting. It seemed less a thing that I was experiencing and more a thing that defined the environment.

I looked up at him, he was busily taking his belt off. He folded it over in front of my face.

"That's the last time you look me in the eyes."

He slapped me with his free hand and it brought new, honest tears to my eyes. It jarred my body, but something in my mind didn't connect the action with the words. I looked up at him.

He brought his hand up to his shoulder and hit me with the back of it, across the face.

I fell over, hard onto my shoulder, I yelled in pain. In defiance, the last clear thought I'd have for ten minutes, I searched out his eyes.

The first smack of the belt landed mostly on my right hip. I wriggled so he leaned down to hold me still. He whispered, dangerously in my ear, "Tell me you're mine."

The second smack was high enough to hit my hand, I screamed towards the floor, the next few landed on my thighs and bit into the soft flesh. Each smack felt like it went right through me, up my spine and down every bone. He paused, fingers searched between my legs and finding me involuntarily wet. He found my entrance in a way that would have been pleasurable had it not been for the circumstances. Experienced fingers, fingers that took my wetness and smeared it across my lips.

"Say it."

I held out when he hit my back, but I was crushed when he pushed me back and the belt sideswiped my breast.

"I'm yours." I yelled it, crying, repeating it while bracing myself for the next blow. It didn't come.

"That's enough for now." He left and came back with what looked a little like clothing. He had to roll me onto my back to put the shoes on, they looked like high heels out of the corner of my eye. They went up to my knees, he buckled them on tight. He detached my arms one at a time, I didn't fight, he put leather mitts on me. The thumb wasn't even free, they were just like leather flippers. He buckled them on tightly as well. He unclipped the straps the held my knees up towards my chest.

"You're free." I stupidly tried to get up. He stood back to watch. The heels were actually so high that they weren't heels at all. They were laming shoes, there was no way I could stand in them. The gloves made it impossible for me to take them off or hold myself up on anything. I flailed around without looking at him. I was afraid to look up.

"You're going to have to crawl, Cunt."

The words didn't sound cruel, so I didn't take them that way. I took a few steps. It's difficult to crawl if you aren't used to it, my knees started aching after just a few minutes. I sat back on my feet, on those shoes, and he put his belt back on. He reached up, out of my sight, and got a collar that he swiftly put around my neck. Maybe he thought I would bite him, but I wasn't thinking that clearly. He put me on a dull black leather leash.

"Follow me, keep up and don't dawdle."

I followed his shoes, it was difficult to keep up with his long stride. The kitchen had hard stone tile, dark and brown. The hallway was dark, maroon carpet that felt nice after the sharp edges of the tile and rough grout. I saw nothing to indicate where I was or who he was.

He opened a door leading directly to a carpeted stairway. I hesitated and he looked back at me, already below me, and I quickly lowered my eyes. I was obviously confused, the sting of the belt still dumbed my thoughts.

"Good Cunt, you can get down the stairs by sitting on your ass and going down a step at a time."

I did as he said, I tried to go as quickly as possible but he told me if I didn't speed it up he was going to have to teach me to move faster. I hurried, but caught a slap across the face with a loop of the leash. I hurried more and found myself kneeling on the concrete floor of the basement trying to take the weight off of my knees, now reddened.

"Good girl. Gooood girl. C'mon, smile." I started to look up and stopped. I smiled for him.

"Smile for me like that all the time, Cunt."

There was a moment of silence, I didn't know he was doing anything so I decided to speak.

"Will you... let me go home?"

"This is your home." I resisted the urge to look up again, it was a hard habit to break.

Stuttering overcame me, all I got out next was, "c-c-clothes?"

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Cunt."

He finished what he was doing, he had gloves on.

"Get up in the chair, lean back, I'm going to wash your hair."

I knew from the chemical smell that it wasn't what he was doing. He was dying my hair, with little pieces of foil and everything. It gave me a chance to look around the room, it was mostly empty except for a table, a cage, some of those lockable wall cabinets like in a wood shop. It was oddly industrial, there was even a drain in the middle of the floor and a faucet for a hose.

"Why...?" He slapped me before I got the question out.

"Don't speak unless directly questioned. I know what's best for you, I'm all you'll ever need now. I don't ever want to hear another question leave those pouty pink lips, understood, Cunt?"

Tears came up in my eyes, along with the familiar ache of injustice left over from puberty. "Yes."

"Yes, what? I think I deserve a 'Sir,' don't you, Cunt?"

"Yes, Sir."

I realized then that nothing in his tone implied my new nickname would be capitalized, such as with any real name or honorific. Something in my mind corrected itself.

"Now sit up and let's see how you look with your new hair."

He dried my hair with a towel and ran his fingers through it. He smiled as if he was satisfied with his work but didn't offer me a mirror. From the pieces that fell down into my face I understood that I was now a honey blond.

He gave the leash a tug and I climbed off of the chair and back down onto my knees. I realized then that the chair also had stirrups, not without a shudder.

"You look so good now, so... becoming, cunt. We have a little business to take care, then you can turn in for the night."

He took a small camera out of his pocket.

"Close your eyes and look up." I did as he said, I saw the flash of light inside my eyelids. I felt him reattached the straps that kept my legs close to my chest, I blushed at his touch and I don't know why.

"Good cunt, now get in the cage."

He opened the door and I sort of had to drag myself the few feet in and before I heard the clink of the padlock he reattached my wrists to my waist. The cage appeared to be homemade, welded together and then bolted into the concrete. There was nothing to sleep on, nothing within reach. He quickly busied himself setting up a small TV on the table, facing me, one that he never turned off. It showed only porn, of women loving to please men and orgasmically enjoying spankings. They kept saying they wanted to serve. I started to cry after I heard the basement door lock. There wasn't even a window or a clock, just that TV.

After an hour or so it grew cold. I turned on my side and it began to hurt after only a few minutes. I knew I must've been bruised from the short encounter and no position was comfortable. I wound up falling asleep on my back, humiliating with my legs pulled up and being so completely exposed.

I woke up more than once, maybe it was the constant moans or my own dreams. I don't know. Once I yelled, then I shrank into the corner at the thought of him entering and giving me a spanking like the last time. The night passed slowly, as slowly as few had ever in my life.

He woke me up, gently, and sat down on the floor. He pulled me into his lap and had me curl up to him. He was warm and soft, I could feel his heart beating. He wiped the itchy tears from my cheeks and held water for me to sip. I pressed up against him, knowing he could feel my breasts firmly on his chest, and closed my eyes. It went on for two days like that, he led me to a small closet-like bathroom a few times. He gave me some privacy and acted nothing like he had previously. I earned only a few slaps with the leash that I slowly understood I deserved for not moving quickly enough.

He never touched me aside from the soft caresses. The spankings came from the belt, which I also learned to understand. He had to know I was his, he needed reassurance every day. And on the fourth day when he unclipped my bonds and held me I touched his thigh. He didn't fight it, he allowed me to find he growing hardness and stroke it through the pants. I tried to unzip him but I couldn't. He pushed my head down and I understood. I was to do it with my lips, my teeth and do as I wanted.

The button was difficult, the zipper was easier, I was apologetic about the saliva on the cloth. Thankfully he wore no underwear to get out the way, I rubbed his hardness against my cheeks. I licked it, I couldn't do anything with my hands so I could do was suck. I wetted him slowly with licking, wishing I could see his face to see if he liked it, and then took him into my mouth. Letting the head push against cheeks on the inside. Letting it slide to the back of my throat. I had never even tried to deep throat before, but I tried for him, and just before he came he pulled me back by the hair and favored me with his cum on my face.

I closed my eyes, so I couldn't see the expression of love I'm sure was on his face. He made no sound and pushed me back on the floor. He took off my restraints, gloves and shoes, I took this as a sign of trust. I laid there while he went to the cabinet, found a hose, and showered me with cold water. The shock was intense. He rubbed me with a mitt and sweet smelling soap, I bucked when his hand touched me between my legs for only the second time. He hosed me off and put everything back. I heard him on the phone as he went up the stairs.

"A lot sooner than I expected."

I puzzled over what it meant while I spent the rest of the day alone. It wasn't until he returned that night, I hoped he noticed that I hadn't left the cage even though it was unlocked. He made no sign and said nothing, just handed me a hairbrush and a white box.

"When you're dressed put the shoes back on and come upstairs, cunt." He tossed the shoes onto the ground and left. I didn't look up so I couldn't tell what it meant. I did what he said as quickly as possible. My hair was difficult, I tried to smooth it down. The box had nothing but a black latex skirt in it. I went through the white paper looking for more, but there wasn't anything. I put it on and then the shoes which meant I had to hold tightly onto the wall to get up the stairs.

The hallway was as I remembered it, blank and small, and I went straight ahead to the main door. It was a living room beyond, the sight shocked me at first. There were 6 or 7 girls dressed similarly, only one had a top. I fell down, none of them made a move, and I kneeled there. Some lounged on the couch with drinks, one snickered at me, two stared straight ahead.

I saw his shoes from the corner of my eye. Only one improbably perfect blond didn't lower her eyes when he entered, she rubbed her breasts against his arm in her tight top and kissed his cheek. He didn't acknowledge her, he walked to me.

"That's her, I call her cunt."

I hadn't seen the guy behind him, only him as if he was the only thing in the world. The man stepped up beside him and looked down at me, I assume, I didn't look at him either.

"You're getting really fast with them. Have her taken out to the limo, I'll count the cash."

I didn't know what it meant. Sir snapped his fingers and the blond left the room and returned with two guys wearing sneakers. That's all I saw. They carried me from the house out by a pool and to a shaded parking area, some kind of service street. I was embarrassed, immediately by how little I wore. They put me in the back of a low black limo and I sat in the floorboard, waiting, too dumbfounded to cry.

The man joined me a few minutes later, cheeks red with laughter, and told his driver to go before rolling up the divide. I hadn't noticed the driver must've been watching me.

"Come here, cunt. I thought I'd give you a new name but I kind of like that one."

He unzipped his pants.

"Cunt, cunt, cunt, it rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?"

His cock was growing hard, fast, he held it in his hands. I looked at it, but not at his face. I felt an improbable tingle between my legs.

"He said I should tell you to serve me, cunt. Do you like that? Serve me, cunt."

I crawled to him, I reached for his cock.

"Oh no, cunt," he said, "I'm an ass man."

I found myself mechanically climbing up on the seat beside him as he made room. Holding onto the armrest, feeling him push up the skirt. I felt the plastic nozzle of a tube of lubricant, and the wet stickiness that squirted in. I moaned for him as he pushed eagerly through my tightness. His greedy hands found my breasts but I didn't flinch as he kneaded them hard and squeezed. It seemed like he was looking for a way to make me cry. But I didn't. I groaned and he fucked me persistently as the car moved. I almost fell once or twice, he grabbed onto me hard and slapped me once or twice on the face. He grew hot and sweaty with the effort, I ignored the discomfort that bordered closely on pain.

"You're so tight. God I love them tight."

I came, I don't know how, wriggling and I could even feel my muscles hold onto his cock, spasming. He slapped my face a few times and said I would learn, oh boy, he said, he was going to teach me good. He said I was going to learn to fear his cock. He said he couldn't wait for the day when I'd cower in the corner as he unzipped his pants, watching me cover myself and beg him not to. He said he was going to get me some nice big titties and a new face.

He slapped my ass hard and called me cunt over and over again. I knew he did it because...

because...

He loved me too, just as much as Sir had. That would bring me endless pleasure.