February 7th
Once again I woke up of my own accord. However, I was still tired and sore. My mind was roaming in circles throughout the night leaving me with a restless sleep. And I guess all those chores yesterday were more physically taxing than I realized.
However, I still felt the resolve that I had last night. I wanted to prove myself. If anything, I now took it as a point of pride that I was a quality slave. Perhaps pride and slave don't belong together in the same sentence, but I think it's fair. A dog can be very well trained, but it ultimately needs to have an owner.
Like yesterday, I was on the toilet when a guard came in. It wasn't Master David but the younger guard who handled me the first day out of the cell. Hard to believe it was only 3 days ago.
I was disappointed that it wasn't Master David, but it didn't matter. I belonged to all of them. And this guard was strong and handsome, just as they all were.
He informed me that us bitches would be eating in the dining room this morning. So, he immediately attached my leash and led me to the showers. Fuck Doll was there first, and I was strung up beside her. The other 3 cunts followed shortly thereafter, and we proceeded with our usual morning routine.
There did seem to be a buzz amongst the other bitches, and it had something to do with the breakfast. I couldn't understand the relevance. It's not like eating from the floor was more degrading than pushing a dildo up our asses at the dinner table. Yet, since no one was permitted to speak I could only wonder.
I will say that sitting down on the dildo excited me. It reminded me of last night, and Master David's cock filling my backside. I even looked at him as the dildo stretched open my ass.
After our meal, the head master entered the room. "Good morning bitches. I have some good news. We have received a successful bid for...Chica!"
Chica squealed with delight. The other cunts, myself included, followed Fuck Doll's lead and clapped and congratulated her. I gather that the masters allowed us to speak when we were celebrating slavery.
It was revealing how much Chica was genuinely happy to be sold. Given how we had to refrain from talking and maintain a docile nature, it was hard to know if any of us were truly at peace with our new found place in life. Yet, you couldn't fake that smile from Chica, or the enthusiasm from her fellow slaves.
I didn't really know how the process for selling us actually worked. I suppose I thought there would be a formal auction, one in which we all lined up and were sold one after another. The reality was more terrifying and exciting. We could be sold at anytime. That being said, I am genuinely happy for Chica, and her sale provided something for me to aspire to.
The masters were very generous, allowing us to hug Chica, and wish her good luck, before she was taken away. The head master led her out, and down the hallway. We would never see her again. Nor did we learn who had purchased her, or where she was going. Even how she was to be transported to her new owner remains a mystery.
Us remaining bitches were led back to the studio. This time the masters stayed, which meant they would be running us through our paces. It was more exciting this way. It meant we could show our value, and our eagerness to serve.
Master David who was paired up with Fuck Doll took command. I remained paired up with the young guard.
I should point out as an aside, that I did find the lack of names disconcerting. Us bitches had names, even if they were derogatory. Yet, I can only refer to the men in the most generic of ways, "young master", "curly-haired master", or even "head master".
I have come to understand their logic though. It is so we don't get attached. They were men, therefore they were in charge. There was no sense in me pinning over Master David because some other master was going to fuck me tonight. It was the young master that I was now paired up with, and it was now him that I needed to impress with my servitude. There was no romance. There was no getting to know one another. I was a slave, and I had to obey any master. Their names were irrelevant.
Anyways, back to the studio, Master David spoke up. "OK bitches, we're going to see if your puny brains were capable of remembering your positions."
He called out the various positions that I had learned two days ago. At his side, Fuck Doll was adopting each position.
I didn't need her guidance though. I had memorized them like mantras and adopted each position. In some ways it was easier to assume these positions with a master. It was certainly more erotic. The subtlest of gestures provided meaning.
For example, while in the Belly position, the young master bent down to reach between my legs and feel my pussy. Therefore, I knew that if he had ready access to my sex, then my legs were spread wide enough as they should be. I could go on, but suffice to say, I was extremely aroused as we completed our exercises.
The next stage in our training overlapped with our position training; testing our threshold for pain.
It took a tremendous effort to remain steady with my hands resting with open palms on my thighs in the Nadu position while the nipple clamps were placed upon me. My nipples have been pinched before, but I was unprepared for the sharp pain.
I gasped as each clamp forcefully squeezed my nipples. However, I received a stern look for the lingering grimace I held for a few minutes. He was right, it was uncalled for. A slave should maintain a peaceful and serene appearance. No one cares about her suffering.
I managed to take the clamps on my nether lips with a little more grace. However, I struggled not to scream out when the shock collar was attached. Even the weight of the collar was unnerving. And when it reached the higher settings, the shock made my whole body convulse.
I was not the only one struggling. Suk Wong curled up on the floor with tears streaming down her face. Even Fuck Doll was struggling to maintain her composure.
We all survived it though. And since we didn't beg for mercy, or give some pointless resistance, the masters were pleased. If nothing else, it was now the punishment I feared the most. The masters rewarded us for our compliance with the honour of servicing them with our mouths, and a load of cum down our throats.
After lunch we were brought to another room, a dungeon. I had an instant dread entering the room as there was no other purpose for these devices but to torture a slave. Since I had not been into the fetish or BDSM scene, there were some things that I was not familiar with. Yet their purpose was evident.
Each of us bitches faced a different predicament. Nevertheless, we were good bitches. We all politely stepped into whichever trap they had laid.
For me it was a cross, or more accurately a large X. I'm sure there is a proper name for it. I leaned back against the hard wood, and allowed my wrists and ankles to be bound. There was no real secret to what was going to happen. With my legs and arms spread wide, I was completely vulnerable.
The Young Master even tormented me with anticipation by gently running the flogger gently against my skin, caressing my breasts and my cunt. The soft leather eliciting pleasure where it would soon elicit pain.
My senses were jumbled. When the first blow struck my breasts I moaned with pleasure. "Thank you master!" I responded instinctively, but was uncertain if I was allowed to speak, or if I should be counting as well.
None of the other bitches were speaking as their torment began. However Young Master did not admonish me, so I continued to thank him. His wicked grin suggested that he liked it.
He seemed to take great pleasure from whipping my breasts. And he certainly had the flick of the wrists down, because he consistently hit my nipples with a hard snap.
The pain was arousing. My nipples hardened in response, welcoming the next blow. My gasps were from a mix of pain and pleasure.
