Ev is my slave in real life. She is a beautiful Asian slut. We are taking a short break right now whilst she concentrates on her studies. This is the continuing story, written by both of us, telling of how we first met ...
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PART 8
Slut (14) ...
Sold. Sold like a slave. Forced to display my slave body in every imaginable revealing manner. Forced to cum as a trained animal, unable to retain even one ounce of dignity. Oh man, why did I juice so?
I was led by my newest Master, could I really call him that -- he was just a boy, or were all males now my 'Master' (I still had so much to come to terms with) out of the side door and to his waiting SUV. He opened the back of the van and I stared in shock at a cage. Why should I be shocked? After all, despite being the innocent Evelyn just a short few hours ago, I was now no better than a bitch in heat. And a bitch needs her kennel for transport. He reached up to pull the dildo from the ring gag.
"Climb in, Cunt. At the front you will find a dildo attached to the cage. Take it deeply in your mouth, and remain on all fours for our trip to your home for the next 12 hours."
I hesitated a moment, but he slapped my slave ass and I knew there was no choice. I climbed in and crawled to the front of the cage, where the dildo slid easily into the ring gag and deep into my slave throat. A day ago I gagged when forced by Mistress Stacy to take a similar dildo into my slave mouth and slave throat, but now it seemed reasonably comfortable. I heard the cage door close and latch. I could not have backed off the dildo had I wanted to. Once again, all three of my slave holes were filled.
Where had this man come from? Where had they all come from, all the people at the auction? Did this sort of thing happen all the time? Apparently so!
The floor of the cage had a rug so that the bars were neither a hindrance nor a major discomfort to my slave knees and chained hands. My eyes began to tear, knowing I was slave to this man for the immediate future and knowing that my Master was spending his time fucking Mistress, my roomie. I began to sob, but had to keep some control to avoid choking or gagging on the dildo.
He said nothing during the drive. I could get glimpses out of the tinted windows, and knew we were driving on a freeway and headed away from the SF area. We crossed the Golden Gate Bridge. So many cars within feet of our speeding SUV, and the caged slave in the cargo area. My slave neck was beginning to ache.
We pulled into a driveway of a rather large home. My new Master must have a lot of money. I wondered if he acquired it legally or as a result of belonging to a Chinese gang or triad. The clothes he wore at the auction did not indicate wealth. I had yet to get a good look at his face.
He pulled into a garage and I could hear the garage door close behind us. Moments later the back hatch opened.
As he opened the back of the cage, he spoke not harshly, "You better be worth the $4000 I just paid out. I could get eight common whores for the same price."
"Back out and stand before me."
I obeyed. Standing before him, head slightly bowed, I felt him loosen the straps of my gag. I opened my slave mouth wide enough for him to pull out the ring. This type of action was becoming second nature for me. I was so scared. I hated the ring gag. My slave jaw hurt and so I opened and closed my slave mouth several times to relieve the muscle strain. As I did, I lifted my slave head slightly to get a look at my temporary Master.
SLAP!
I was nearly knocked to my knees. My slave head rang and I tasted blood.
"Even a stupid cunt knows not to look into the face of her Master. You showed some basic training tonight at the auction, so I conclude that now you were testing me or were simply curious. Curiosity is not becoming a slave. Don't do it again, slave."
I managed to stand again before him, making no attempt to wipe any blood that might have appeared on my slave lips. And I was surprised. Master would not know that his young slave had read the stories of Gor, yet I was sure that he had used the common admonition 'Curiosity is not becoming a kajira', merely replacing kajira with slave for my benefit. Yet the phrasing was pure Gorean. He knew! He knew about Gor! I am sure that's what he said.
But I got a glance at him. He was Asian, which did not surprise me considering the clients of Yang's shop. Maybe mid-30's. Not particularly handsome, a bit overweight, somewhat less than 6 feet tall, and a face that was best described as 'hard.'
He released all the chains that bound me. He ordered me to strip. I did so immediately, standing before him moments later with only collar, cuffs, and rings in my various slave piercings. The boots were difficult to get off without sitting, but I balanced myself on one foot and managed. The plugs in my slave ass and cunt added to my anguish. I was not sure I could hold them in without the shorts. I was still not really used to such implements ... not as much as I am now.
Once naked, Master re-chained my slave ankles, then slave wrists, and connected the chains in a design known as a sirik on Gor! He knew! For sure, he knew! As before, my slave ankles were separated by about 18 inches of chain. A chain ran from slave wrist to slave wrist, about a foot in length, but did not pass through the ring on my slave collar as Mei Ling had arranged. However, he connected a longer and lighter chain from my slave collar, through the wrist chain, and ending at the ankle chain. I was chained and confined as surely as any slave on Gor.
"Follow me, slave," he ordered, and we entered his home through the garage door. We walked through the thickly carpeted den, a hallway, and finally entered a door that had stairs leading down, into a cellar.
The cellar seemed to be out of the middle ages, I could not believe that I was in such a place, even that such a place existed ... I have to admit to weeping a little as we walked, thinking of my family and friends, and Master but feeling excited at the same time. What was wrong with me! It was dark, but lit with electrical torches that simulated a natural flame. Some sort of air system must have been operating, because there was only a slight, somewhat pleasant smell of smoke.
There was also the smell of leather, which I adore. But less delightful were the tables and chairs and chains and cages and whips of all sizes around the room. I trembled with apprehension and fear. If Master and Mistress had not spoken to him before we left, I would be terrified of my life. But I knew I just had to survive another 12 hours or so, and then I could go back to ... to ... what?
We walked across the room, stopping in front of a wooden dowel hanging by a chain from the ceiling. "Kneel," and I obeyed, nearly losing my balance because of the sirik.
"Hmmm," he seemed to ponder the restrictions the sirik placed upon his slave. He released the chain that ran from my collar to my slave ankle chain. He then unhooked the slave ankle chain. Pulling the dowel down from above, he attached each end to my slave ankle cuffs; thus, it became a spreader bar. I would not be able to close my slave knees even if I was so ordered.
He then re-shackled my slave wrists behind my slave back, passing the chain over the butt plug and below my slave ass. He walked away and flipped a switch, and the spreader bar began to slowly rise. I was caught off balance, but fortunately it was rising slowly enough for me to react. My slave ankles were pulled off the ground and I fell forward, unable to keep my balance. I used my slave shoulder to cushion the blow, but because the chain connecting my slave wrists was tucked under my slave ass, I was basically flipped upside down, caught in a tuck position, like a springboard diver executing a difficult flip.
