Sold

(Note: this dream is in a world where slavery is legal. Criminals are taken for "treatments" where their memories of the past are removed and they are trained for a job. Most end up doing menial work, but a few are selected to be pleasure slaves)

My first memories are of being a slave. Perhaps I was one in a former life, perhaps not. In one of my memories I was bound and stood on a box in front of men. There was smoke, the click of ice in glasses, course laughter and my fear. My fear was also my arousal.

The men bid on me. I was torn by the fear of who would get me and what he would be like, the surreal pleasure that men were bidding on me -- competing to see who would own me and use me. I was sold and moved back to the waiting area. I had no idea how long it would be before I meet my Master, before I was under his control. Would I please him? Would he arouse me? My body throbbed with desire and for that moment there was nothing that I can do but squirm and wait.

I waited in the cold room, my hands bound above my head. I was naked, defenseless, and vulnerable. I moved my head to feel the touch of my long hair across the small of my back. I shifted my feet. My arms ached. My body had cooled since the sale.

The door behind me opened and I tried to twist in the bonds to see Him.

"Do not move!" His voice was velvet over steel. The command in it froze my movement. He must have been able to hear my heart pounding. This was the man that owned me now. My Master. I was his to do with as he pleased.

I jumped as his fingers touched me. The skin tingled with the electricity in his touch. He moved my hair over my shoulder so my back was bare to him and then he began to touch me. His hand was warm and strong but gentle. He ran his hand down my back to the curve of my buttocks and squeezed with the pride of ownership.

"Delightful," I heard him murmur softly. Then louder, "Spread your legs for me."

I hesitated at his order, half turning in the chains. The sting of the crop was fast and left a lick of fire on the curve he just caressed. I parted my legs, trying to balance on my toes, fighting back the hot tears that sprang to my eyes.

His fingers caressed the wetness between my legs and I heard him chuckle with pleasure. The deep laugh made me wetter and I whimpered in embarrassment. He laughed again at the soft noise I made and walked around to look at my front.

I looked at him boldly and then dropped my eyes at the intensity of his look. I felt the blush spread from my face down my chest and felt my nipples harden. I could do nothing to hide my reactions and I hated it... I loved it.

He caressed my breasts and sucked briefly on each nipple, taste testing me. He was my height and there was nothing about him that screamed "Master" except this aura about him.

"What is your name?" he lifted my chin with his finger so I was forced to look into the cool blue eyes.

"Whatever you want it to be Master," I whispered the reply I have been taught.

He sighed, "I bought you because you did not look like a doormat. Tell me your name." There is a cold chill to the command.

"Rosemary," my voice trembled.

"Hmmm... " he stepped back and walked around me, looking, weighing something about me in his mind. "A good name for you, for I am sure there are some thorns, and I will make you bloom."

He had not taken me down yet. Instead he was once again behind me. I strained to decipher the sounds. Something was placed on the floor -- two clicks -- briefcase -- my mind recognized the sound. I heard the movement of cloth, felt his arm brush against my skin and there was darkness. I had not been blindfolded before and fear welled up inside me. I cried out in wordless panic and twisted in the chains, frantic to free my hands and remove the cloth from over my eyes.

"Hold still, girl," his command was soft and punctuated by several strong lashes on my upper thighs. The pain gave me a chance to regroup and I found myself still, trembling. The darkness was terrifying, yet, at the same time, there was something oddly comforting. Not anticipating it, I flinched as his fingers brushed over the swell of my breast and toyed with a nipple. He kept his hand on me until I was reasonably still again.

"Good girl."

I was filled with such pleasure that he found me good. I felt my eyes fill with tears.

"You are a lovely thing my Rose and I will whip you now. It will hurt, and it will also be pleasurable. Your pain and your pleasure will please me very much. When I am done with you here, I will take you home to your new life."

I felt him step back and wait. Was it seconds or hours before the hot lick of the whip brought a welt to my skin? He worked the crop over my body and each time it struck me there was liquid fire of pain and liquid fire of need until my body throbbed with the need of his physical touch, the feel of him in, the need for release. I heard my voice like someone far away, begging to serve him. He entered me hard and thick. I fought against the chains, not for escape from him, but for my need to touch him. I could not hold back the orgasm any longer, and I felt him explode in me. The darkness made each sensation magnify a hundred times.

I dangled there, the cool air soothing each hot welt on my body. "I will forgive you this time," He spoke softly, but I detected no true displeasure in his voice, "You will soon learn only to come when I allow it. They have not trained you for that."

There was a clasp of cool metal around my throat, the click of a lock and I felt the solid weight of a collar around my neck showing his legal ownership. I gave a small shake of my head and heard the jingle of a tag. I was a slave by law and I could not remember what the crime was that I committed to be made one. My Master lowered me to floor and removed the chains. I felt a soft silkiness on my skin...fabric.

"Keep the blindfold on, girl and put on the robe. I don't hold to dragging new slaves around town in nothing."

My arms tingled with pins and needles as I blindly felt the cloth and deciphered how to put it on. Silk brushed against my bare skin and I recognized a kimono style robe. I stood, swaying in a combination of dark disorientation and the wash of sensations, waiting for his next command.

The trip "home" seemed endless in the darkness my Master wished. He had not touched me since he used me back in the waiting area of the auction house, except to bind my hands behind my back once we were in the car. If I moved, I could feel the silk kimono slide open a bit more. I ached to speak and question him and to know more, but his silence was daunting.

I thought of what I remembered and there was so little. There was the training center, the trainers and before that... gray nothing. I knew that Master had been given a list of my skills. I could still read and do sums, but I am not sure where I lived or even who ruled the government. I knew how to cook, but could not remember what my favorite foods were. I was a blank slate for my Master. The center removed as much of our past as they could.

The car stopped and his door opened. I felt his strong hand guide me out. My steps were hesitant. There was no reason for him to hurt me, but the blindfold forced me to trust him with a trust I didn't have yet.

"Four steps and then stop, Rose," I heard the jingle of keys, a door unlocking. The air was bitter cold and I shivered. He guided me inside and the warmth was a welcome caress. He removed the blindfold, but leaft my hands bound.

"Follow me and I will show you the place," He seemed to have relaxed on entering his home. The robe I wore gaped open in the front and I wanted to close it, but I could only move to keep up with his long steps. He showed me both floors. The top floor had a study, a large bedroom, a well appointed bath and two walk in closets. One had been converted to a small room for me. He told me I would only sleep in here if he was displeased. The lower floor had a living room, dinning room, kitchen and a door to the basement. The basement was his playroom. The equipment was familiar from the training center. Here he released my hands and had me remove the robe to kneel in front of him.

"It's a good time for the house rules, girl. I spent a great deal of time being certified to own a slave and a great expense to get you. You will obey me. First, you wear no clothing in the house unless I have specifically said you may. Second, you will call me Master at all times. Third, you will call all other people, Sir or Ma'am as is appropriate. Fourth, any disobedience real or imagined will be punished. Fifth, you will not leave the house unless I specifically tell you to. Sixth, There is no eating unless it is something I have given you. Do you have any questions about my rules?"

"No Master." I looked up at him, the man that was my whole reason of existence.

"Good," His smile reached his eyes and it warmed me. "I want you to go upstairs and cook something for us to eat. Prepare two servings, but only set one place at the table. You will eat from my hand for the time being. I will be in my study working. Do not hesitate to ask me, but do not pester me."

He turned and went up the stairs, leaving me to move at my own pace. I cast a wishful look at the robe on the floor and headed up to start this new life.

* * * * *

I knelt by the side of the table, my eyes on Him as he ate. I watched for any sign that he needed something more, that he was displeased or pleased. Occasionally he offered me a forkful of food, but otherwise he read the papers he brought with him. Not a word about the dinner I had made, the place setting, the candles. I knew I was supposed to please him, but a little appreciation would be nice, maybe a kind word or two.

"You could at least say Thank you." I finally muttered sullenly.

He turned to look at me and raised his eyebrows, "So soon? Go to the basement and wait."

I glared at Him and stood, gathered his dishes and toke them into the kitchen. He watched me and followed a second later. I was not prepared for his hand curling in my thick hair and pulling my head back sharply. I dropped the dishes and struggled to keep my footing, crying out in pain. He was stronger than I, so much stronger -- I fought but he easily won and in a few minutes I was back in the basement, chained with manacles around each wrist spreading them far apart, a short chain held my collar against the wall at an uncomfortable height. I was pressed face first against the wall still struggling. My anger burned hot.

"You can't do this to me!" I screamed, "I am a person, not a slave!"

Unable to stop him, he slid the blindfold over my eyes again. The darkness made my anger worse, or is it now my fear? I struggled, headless of the pain I caused myself. There was only silence, such a long and cold silence. When I was exhausted with my fight and had no strength left he spoke.

"You are right, Rose. No one should be forced to be a slave, but that is the law. You are a slave and there is nothing that can change that. You are and will always be one. I will teach you to be a good one. I will not tolerate disobedience, I will not ask you to do something a second time. How many rules did you break?"

The cold wall seeped the warmth from my body, but did nothing cool the lingering anger. "One," I snapped.

"Obviously you need to think about it more. I will be back before bed to see if you have it right."

I could hear his footsteps and the door shutting. I struggled again; I screamed my anger; I cried my fear.

* * * * *

Alex sat in the leather chair in his study and watched Rosemary on the monitor. He turned the sound up now that her anger seemed to have burned itself out. She hadn't said anything that would be of use in the report, but it was only her first day. He had almost given up hope of finding a pleasure slave with as much personality left as she had. Most seemed sort of blank; as if the treatments removed much more than just the memories of the past. He had much hope for this woman.

He glanced again at the papers in front of him. Her retinal scan had brought back a lengthy list of crimes from petty to severe that seemed plausible enough unless you knew. If this report were true, the judge that passed her sentence to slavery had done so while in a coma. Rosemary was his first hard link of what he had suspected. Innocent women kidnapped, treated and sold for pure profit. He just needed to get Rosemary to remember.

Still, he mused, it would not change her legal status. She was a slave, and she belonged to him. It would take some time, but his goal was to get her to serve out of love rather than government induced law.

He watched her until her body showed the slackness of total exhaustion. He tucked the papers away in the drawer, turned off the monitor and went downstairs.

He smiled at the view of her. Her body was lovely, beautifully curved and sleek. It glistened in the light and he could smell her fear like a faint and pleasurable musk. He ran his hand down her smooth back and repressed a delighted chuckle at her sharp intake of breath and the unconscious movement of her body toward him.

"Well girl?"

"Please, Master," her voice was a ragged whisper. Her throat must be raw and tender from her screaming earlier, "Please forgive me."

He detected a hint of strain in her voice that indicated she was close to hysterical panic again. His eyes narrowed as he evaluated the cause. He reached up and removed the blindfold and saw the sharp edge of tension in her body move away. The blindfold, he realized, how very interesting. She had a panicked fear of the total darkness. He would have to investigate this more later, but right now, he had to deal with her behavior.

"Tell me what you did wrong," he spoke gently.

"I did not obey you Master, I spoke out of turn, I demanded of you what I was not due, I did not have permission to clear the dishes, I did not go to the basement, I fought you, I..." she squirmed in her bonds trying to think of anything else she did, "I... think that is everything."

"Yes Pet, you did all that. You are a good girl for remembering. Now I will punish you for it and that will be the end of it. I get no pleasure from this punishment, nor shall you."

He took from the wall the punishment whip, "You have admitted to six separate offenses. I am going to give you five lashes for each offense you admitted to. You forgot to confess not being truthful when I asked you the first time and for your anger. I am going to five you ten lashes for each of those. Fifty lashes, Rosemary and you will count each one of them for me. Miscounting will add another five each time."

He could still see the red marks from the earlier whipping she had gotten. He gave a sigh and lifted the whip, bringing it down with a hard stroke across her back.

"One...." she gasped, her fingers clawing at the stone wall.

He lifted his arm again.

* * * * * * *

He finished his shower and peeked in the door of the closet. She was asleep, but made a soft moaning noise. She was beautiful lying there naked, hands bound behind her, the chain from the wall to her collar snaking on the floor near her. She would be painfully sore for days. Some of the last lashes had broken skin, but the ointments, while they stung, would keep there from being scarring. Tomorrow morning, he would unleash her and take her to the bed and give her pleasure, a reward for not losing count. He smiled and turned off the light.

* * * * *

I spent the entire day cleaning. My body ached horribly from last night, but it actually felt better the more I moved. Master's tender touch in the morning and the pleasure he had given me, still warmed my body.

Master's house was tidy, but he still had a long list of chores for me to do. There was an odd feeling about cleaning naked. It is not a feeling of "wrong" per se, but more of surreal. All the items felt familiar to me, so I must have cleaned before. I cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen and was vacuuming the floors when I felt his eyes on me. I stopped and knelt. I had an odd series of feelings ranging from fear to excitement. I ached from the beating last night and I wanted him to see that I had done a good job. My mind raced to think of anything I may have missed that would displease him. I couldn't take another beating tonight.

"You have done well, girl. I want you to go clean yourself up and then prepare dinner for five people. I am having guests tonight and you will serve." I must have looked horrified for he gave a soft laugh that caused my insides to burn. "No Rose, I am not going to let you wear clothing yet. These are close friends and will do nothing but look at you. Besides, I want your back healed nicely before you have something against it." He proceeded to let me know what he wanted fixed and the setting for the table.

I could feel my empty stomach gurgling with hunger. My last food had been what he had fed me last night before my rebellion. Cooking food and not being allowed to have any was an agony I could have done without, but I didn't dare risk another punishment.

At the appointed hour, I had the food ready, the table was set, and was kneeling, waiting for Master's instruction. I realized that I was trembling and bit my lower lip trying to calm myself. I had been naked before other people before, but they were trainers, these men were different. I could hear Master's voice greeting them, their voices, coming closer. I fought with myself to keep my place, the memory of the beating still far too fresh in my mind to risk another.

"She's lovely, Alex," said one. I could see his feet and I dared not look up. I heard the others seating themselves.

"She is," Master agrees and sat, "Rose, serve the dinner."

I stood and realized that my face was damp with silent tears. I hurried into the kitchen and got the salads. Silently I served them. I was shaking so hard, I almost spilled a plate on one of the man. I knelt by Master's chair. Somehow being near him was comforting. I leaned closer to him as if his nearness brought with it safety.

"What did she do to get the marks on her back?" the man opposite Master asked. "She is still learning what it is to be a slave," Master said smoothly and I was grateful He did not go into detail. He offered me a slice of tomato and I tried to be dainty in eating it, keeping my hands on my thighs as I have been taught. He lifted my chin so I could look into his eyes and he smiled warmly at me, his thumb brushed away some of the tears.

Why did I melt at this tender gesture? Why would my head throb and my insides twist in confusion? Without conscious thought, I leaned my head against his leg. What was I and what had I been that I was here now?

Dinner seemed endless. When the men had finished, Master ushered them into his study. He came back and made up a plate of food for me and instructed me to clean up and have coffee and the dessert ready for later.

They stayed in the study for some time and I had plenty of time to eat, clean the dishes and have the coffee and dessert ready. Only one of the men touched me the whole night. I was pouring more coffee into his cup when his hand caressed my rear and squeezed. I yelped and jerked the pot back, splashing some coffee on the pristine tablecloth. The men laughed and I dropped to the floor in terror.

"Please Master, I am sorry, I am so sorry!"

"Don't worry about it, Pet, the tablecloth will clean. Go into the kitchen and wait there for me."

I hurried into the kitchen and there was more laughter around the table. The men left shortly after that and I spent the whole time, kneeling on the floor, trembling. I couldn't take another beating, I had to make him realize that I hadn't meant to spill.

The kitchen door opened and he stood there, tall and strong and smiling at me. "You seem worried, Rose. Don't be. Paul should not have touched you without my permission. Come upstairs. I wish to take a bath. The cups and plates will wait for morning."