Master paraded Caline, naked, into the sitting room, where the man he apparently sold her to was waiting.
Caline did not like him.
He was much older than she was, for one, though handsome enough, with thick gray hair, broad shoulders, and blue eyes. But it was the look in his eyes-cold and hard, with no humor or mercy.
He assessed Caline as if she were a horse, or a dog, or a new car. When he stood in front of her, Caline cowered at his height. He forced her mouth open and held her jaw open as he looked inside, for what she couldn't imagine, besides embarrassing her. He even pinched her tongue and pulled it out.
He jiggled her breasts, as Master had done before raping her this last time. He felt her flat belly, then bent his knees to snake his hands across her hips and give her butt a squeeze.
"Lay down, bend your knees, and spread your legs," he told her with a smirk. His voice was deep and commanding. Caline fought the urge to whimper. With both her Master and this new man in the room, she didn't stand a chance if she disobeyed.
"I don't want her on the carpet," Master said. "This little slave slut gets over-excited, and I don't want her pussy juice staining the rug."
Caline's cheeks blazed in humiliation. The new man pushed against her shoulder and made her lay down on the hard floor at the edge of the rug. She followed his directions to bend her knees and splay her legs for him, closing her eyes as she did so.
She felt a sharp smack against her cheek. "Open your eyes and look at me," the new man commanded, annoyance lacing his firm voice. He knelt on his knees between her legs and looked at her pussy. The look of slight repulsion made shame and frustration burn through Caline. Did he know that Master had just taken her? Was she still bright pink from the flogger and hot bath? Was Master's cum still seeping out? She'd tried to wipe it all away. She closed her eyes and felt the back of his hand smack against her pussy. She opened her eyes and looked at him, gritting her teeth and his needless cruelty.
He placed three fingers into her hole, thrust them a bit, removed them, and then stuck a finger into her ass. Caline's eyes widened, and she arched her back, every cell in her body fighting the urge to try to bat his hand away. He thrust the finger only twice before removing it, thank god.
"Does she talk?" he asked.
Master rolled his eyes and laughed. "Oh yeah, she talks. Greet your new Master, slut."
"Hello, Master," Caline croaked out in a whisper. Her new Master smiled at her for the first time. "Yeah, I'll take her."
The new Master blindfolded her, attached the leather leash Master Ander must have given him to her collar, and led her outside. She felt him push her into a cage that must have been attached to the back part of a van. He locked her in, and then they drove.
It hit Caline that she may never see Master Ander again. Never see the man who bought her from the training facility. He beat her, raped her, took her virginity. This man-this old, cruel man-must have paid even more. She was one step further from ever being free again.
Her new Master dragged her out of the car and through what must have been a garage. He threw her over his shoulder and carried her along hallways and up a staircase.
He finally set her down on the floor, and removed her blindfold.
"Sit," he'd commanded, and she had. And she'd stayed.
Her feet were going numb, and she was cold on the floor. She was in a beautiful bedroom, she'd give it that, with old oak floors, beautiful cream walls, and a large sleigh bed covered in luxurious white linens in front of her. This must be her new Master's bed, and the room where he would torture her.
But . . . she was a little confused.
The bedroom door was open, and although all she could see was a dark hallway past the doorway when she dared to crane her neck and look, she could hear many voices in the house. Several men, and, to her surprise, at least one woman. One of the men had to be her Master, though it was hard to make out. The voices were raised, and they sounded angry. Who was the woman? It couldn't be a slave, since she was raising her voice and talking a lot too, not just answering the men. Caline heard footsteps, but not approaching. It was as if they were pacing. This had gone on for a while. What would happen when they came in? Would they all angry fuck her, screaming and pacing as they watched one another rape and humiliate her? What had Master Ander gotten her into?
Caline bit her lip, nervous, when she heard footsteps that were approaching. The voices sounded like they were at the end of the hallway now, and she could make out what they were saying.
"You're insane!" a man's voice said. Her new Master's? Maybe . . .
"You don't know what's best for you!" No, THAT was her new Master's voice. The hardness sent a shiver down her spine.
"Can I . . ." the woman's voice was softer, and Caline realized she sounded her age.
"Nicole, go somewhere else!" the first voice commanded, exasperation at the edges, and then she heard a soft set of footsteps recede. The woman must have left. For some other part of the house? Did she live here?
"How can you bring her here?" the first voice now asked. "Nicole . . ."
"This doesn't concern Nicole," Master's voice answered. Was Nicole his wife? A girlfriend? And why was there another man?
"Dad, you can't buy me a fucking slave!"
Caline's heart pounded as she realized the set-up.
"You're twenty years old, Judan! It's time to grow up and be a man."
"By forcing a girl to be my sex slave? Are you out of your mind? I'm not into this stuff, Dad. I never wanted to talk to you about it, but I guess that line has been crossed."
"Just take a look at her."
