I'm a Slave Now?

This FICTION story contains elements of non-consent, bondage, abuse, humiliation and other darker types of kinks. If such things offend you, please do not read. This story is meant for entertainment only for those that can tell fiction from reality.

I stand under the shower head, allowing the warm water to fall gently over my head and down my naked body. For what feels like the first time tonight, I've been left alone with no one watching me. It feels rather odd if I'm being honest, even if I've spent most of my life without someone watching my every move.

As I let the water run over every inch of my body, I still feel as if all this is a dream. That everything that has happened has been a drug induced hallucination, or that I'm in a coma or something. For several weeks ago I signed up to be a slave at a sex convention while tipsy. Signed up for all manner of kinky sexual exploits to be done to me, such as being a hucow, BDSM, gangbangs and more...and they've all been done.

The last "training" I had was with Mistress Dee, in which she had to teach me rather quickly about being a slave. And during it, a coworker of mine got to pleasure me, ordering me about and making me cum against my will. But that last training proved to be too much for me, because my body couldn't take any more and I passed out.

When I awoke, Mistress Dee told me that I could go home if I wanted. That I've been through enough to earn my deposit back, which was the entire reason why I came here. The large deposit that I put down to make sure I attended was enough for a down payment for a house.

Yet, something has changed inside of me. My first thought when she told me I could leave was to run out of this place now that I had my money. But I feel different now. Different in mind, different in soul, different in body. It feels like I've been awakened to a world that I didn't know existed.

All my life I've always been the person in charge, the one others went to for help, the one that always had the answers. Now I've experienced what it means to give all that up. I've felt what submission is. I've felt what it means to be not just helpless but utterly humiliated to the point that you barely feel human. And damn it, I loved it. I've been lying to myself and saying how I hated it, that I wanted it to stop, but I feel the truth inside me. I want it. And I want more. I want to feel helpless. I want to feel like I'm being forced. I want to feel humiliated.

So I told Mistress Dee that I wanted to stay. That I wanted to complete the slave process, which would end with me being auctioned and sold at this convention. At this, she told me that I needed to think about it a bit more, that I was worked up with all sorts of new feelings and needed to take a step back and think about things.

She lead me to this private shower, and told me to clean myself up, as all clamps, ropes and more where removed from me, allowing me to just be with my sore and tender body. And thus, I've been in this shower for the past 10 minutes, trying to make sense of what I want. For I fear that if I do go through with this slave process, my life is going to change forever. The life and career I have now, that I worked so hard for, will be washed away and replaced by something I can't foresee.

The smart part of me knows I shouldn't do it. That I should thank her for her kindness, get some clothes and go home with the knowledge that my deposit has been returned to me. If I do that, then I know I will at least stay normal. I can go back to my very normal life, pretending that this never happened, or talk about it like a drunken one-night stand.

But that other part of me, that small and dark part doesn't want normal. It wants to feel more of these dark feelings. Hell, it wants so much more. It wants to go to extremes. I wants to truly live.

With a deep breath, I turn off the water. Standing there, my hands on my face as I feel so confused, I let the water drip off me for several minutes. My body feels so foreign to me and yet at the same time, I feel like I am in tune with it. That I finally cracked some secret code about what it's been wanting all these years. I just never thought it could be to get roughed up and repeatedly fucked in the same night. I mean, tonight was the first time ever I tried anal.

I grab a towel and dry myself off, being careful about how hard I press it against myself in certain areas as I am very sore. Once dry, I start to dry my hair, thinking how much of a mess it must be, and how I doubt there is a brush anywhere here.

Once finished, I put on the robe that Mistress Dee gave me. It is pink, fluffy and very comfy. When I put it on, I think how this is the first time since I started tonight that I've been allowed clothes. From the beginning, they kept me naked and on display. Have to admit, it feels sort of strange to see my body covered. It makes me think of how much I have changed tonight as that dark part of me feels that this is wrong. That I don't deserve to wear this. That at all times everyone should see...everything.

"Feel better?" I hear Mistress Dee ask. Looking up, I see she is standing in the doorway having not made a single noise. She is so damn graceful in her movements that she doesn't seem to make any noise. She is so unlike anyone I've ever met before. So graceful, so beautiful...so in charge.

"I do," I tell her, giving her a small smile. I truly do feel better. I feel clean and in my right mind. Previously I felt out of control. It felt like I was on drugs and overwhelmed. That I was wild and out of control, but now I can think clearly.

"There is no medicine like a warm, quiet bath or shower. That's what I always say," she says, again giving me her beautiful smile. She is still dressed like before, in that very pretty cocktail dress. And in her hand is a hardback book, which lets me know she was here the whole time in the next room, waiting for me, and waiting to make sure I was ok.

"Now that you have taken time to calm down and reflect on the events of tonight, and what you are after, I think it's time we discuss what you mean to do. For I wish I could give you more time, but it is time to make a choice," she explains in her silky voice.

"You are completely free to go home. Like I said previously, you need not worry about your deposit, for everyone would agree you took part in what you signed up for. In fact, I am sure you will be surprised by the amount as many of the participants had such a great time with you, they have given you tips," she states.

At this, I feel a small rush of shame as it makes me feel like a whore selling herself. Yet a part of me feels proud, as if without even trying I was that memorable. I never even considered I could make money off of feeling like this.

"Or you could stay, if that is what you would like. But allow me to make it painfully clear. If you stay and allow yourself to be purchased as a slave, you will experience pain. You will experience domination. You will experience degradation. And you will participate in lewd sexual acts, even if you are not excited about such acts. And all of this can and will be in full view of the public," she tells me, looking extremely serious.

There's a tense silence between us now as I know this is the "do or die" time. It is now or never. Experience what it fully means to be in the slave life which could mean painful rape/sex, or go home and be safe. To go to new heights or stay sane and normal.

My heart pounds hard as the silence builds. Mistress Dee keeps looking at me as she awaits my answer, and I know she wants a simple Yes or No, not any explanations. Never faced with a more important choice, I bite my lip as I fear whatever I pick will be the wrong choice.

"I want to stay," I say, but don't mean to. The words just flow out of my mouth like water flowing from a water pitcher. They come out without any thought or purpose. Almost like something inside my body knows what is best for me so it bypasses my brain. It's as if another said the words and not me.

Mistress Dee doesn't say anything to this. She keeps looking at me, only she looks me in the eye. I can see the shadow of a smile on her face, as if she knew this is what I would say and is proud. But she stays calm and serious, maybe considering as a doctor if I should be doing this, wondering if I could survive. And yes, Mistress Dee is a doctor, and I wouldn't expect anything less from her.

A good minute passes with her looking at me. The longer is goes, the more I start to wonder if she is going to say NO. That I can try to do this next year. As I think this, I actually start to get scared. I feel how badly I want to do it, even if I don't want to admit it. I want to go through with this. I want to.

"Alright...slave. Follow me," she says, accenting the word 'slave' before turning around in her graceful way. My heart leaps at her words as I'm going to get to finish this. To experience all that I want to feel. And as soon as my heart leaps, cold fear rushes over me at what is about to come for I'm not sure I'll want all that I'm about to get.

She walks out of this private bathroom, which must belong to a VIP. I follow behind her, walking several feet behind, feeling like a scared child. Now that I've said I want this experience, everything feels new and scary.

Mistress Dee goes into another room off the hallway. When I enter, there is a rather well-built man in the room that stands up at the sight of the Mistress. He is very muscular and is in his 40s. He wears a very odd outfit, which is a black muscle shirt along with black slacks. To be honest, he reminds me of a villain from a horror movie.

"Mistress," the man says as he bows, which is such an odd sight as he towers over her. I bet he could crush the pair of us with a single blow if he wanted yet he acts as if Mistress Dee is the President.

"Prepare this slave. Only with her...prepare with elements of hucow and very strong humiliation," Mistress Dee orders and when she says this a notice a small smirk. After saying this, the man smiles at her showing that this has made his night. This only serves to make the butterflies in my stomach to start all over again.

"I will see you on the auction block, slave," the Mistress says as she moves to leave the room, pausing to look me in the eyes. And then...she leaves. Walks out of the room in her graceful manner allowing me to look at her rather nice bottom and silky movements. For a moment I feel like crawling after her, begging her not to go. That I want to stay with her in her magical presence.

"What's your name slave?" The brute of a man asks as he approaches me, knocking me out of the trance that the Mistress puts me in. Without care, he takes a handful of my hair and pulls. I yelp in pain as my hands move to my hair in his surprise move, but I am forced to walk with him as he drags me forward.

"BB-Bitchy McCowTitties!" I cry out loudly as I am in a good amount of pain. He drags me until I'm standing on a big red X that's on the floor. Then he pulls upward on my hair as if trying to lift me up by my hair. Not sure what to do, I stand as tall as I can, even moving to my tiptoes.

This seems to please him as he stops pulling. He even lets go of my hair altogether. Then the brute grabs the collar of my comfy robe and YANKS hard on it, opening it with force to expose my body. In a flash, the robe is opened and my naked breasts, stomach, pussy and legs are in full view to the man.

"Name's appropriate with those fat things," he says with barely any emotion as he examines my breasts. He yanks roughly on the robe again, making it fall down my arms and to the ground to leave me completely naked. With an uncaring kick, he sends the robe flying, making me feel that odd sense of that there's no way to cover myself again.

I know I've been naked for most of the night, but that weird sense of being on full display returns as he examines me. Only with him it feels different as he doesn't look at me like a sexual object to be used, but instead like a thing on the shelf at Wal-Mart. That my private areas are just things to make fun of as he knows I can't do anything about it. And from this, I already I feel another orgasm starting to build.

"Alright cow, your hands go here," he comments as he grabs both of my hands and lifts them up. I hadn't seen it before, but there's a black bar hanging down from the ceiling and at the end of either side of the bar are cuffs. But not the police sort of cuffs, but thick, unmoving cuffs like you might find in a torture jail.

A moment later my hands are put in those cuffs, making them spread out. Hearing the click of the cuffs makes that feeling of being forced and helpless grow, making between my legs tingle all over again. I'm all but helpless to this man, to which he could do anything he wanted. To which I wouldn't be surprised if he did fuck me in some new, perverted manner.

"Oh!" I say in reaction as I feel cold metal wrap around my ankle. Looking down, I see there is a cuff around my right ankle. This cuff is attached to a long, black bar, which comes out of some sort of metal box that is bolted to the floor several feet away. The box looks like it is some sort of machine as I can see the bar can collapse on itself to compress space.

I then watch as on my left side, an unopened cuff and bar comes from another box to my left ankle. I watch the unopened cuff move closer towards my ankle, and I do consider moving my foot to prevent it. But then I consider that a single slap from the brute could knock me out, so I stay still and once it reaches my left ankle, it snaps closed.

Now both of the bars start to retract back towards the boxes. Feeling a bit of panic, I'm made to spread my legs as the bars retract. I part my legs more and more as they keep going. And then more. And more.

I start to get very scared as my legs are parted super wide making this super painful. But they thankfully stop, leaving me in this horrible, spread open position. I don't think my legs have even been this spread before. In fact, my entire body is made into an X shape, making me both helpless, stretched out and very aroused.

"Hey!" I cry out as the man slaps my left breast. He slaps it hard too, making it slam into my right tit, causing both to swing violently. As they swing...he laughs. I feel a rush of humiliation rush over me at this, making my body feel like it was dipped in a warm tub of water. He's laughing at my swollen tits swinging after he's slapped them.

"Tell me how stupid you look," the man states after grabbing my face in one of his huge hands. He squeezes now, making it clear that he could crush my face if he wanted. Cold fear once again rushes over me at this as I consider that I have no clue who this guy is. I mean, he obvious is part of the convention, but what if he is a serial torturer and killer? What if he was waiting for the right girl to come along to do as he wanted...and that's me?

"I look so fucking stupid," I say nearly at once, too scared to say anything else. My voice quivers and sounds comedic as he still holds my squeezed face, making the words come out funny.

"My freakishly big tits swing like watermelons because I can't stop you from hitting them. And I let you do this to me. I let you string me up and make me helpless so you could do whatever you want. You could fuck my worthless pussy or make me take it up the ass. That's why I not only look stupid, I am stupid," I tell the man, the words pouring out of me. Never have I said such things before, but they come out so easy due to the fear I feel, and this new level of sexual nature that I feel.

To this, he laughs loud. His cruel and taunting laugh echoes about the room, making my face blush. Showing how much he liked this, he lets go of my face, only to slap my tits again, making them swing powerfully. Humiliating me, he keeps doing this, making it like a game. He slaps them one way, then the other, leaving his red handprints on them as if seeing how high he can make them swing.

I cry, whimper and struggle as he does this, his laughter overpowering my own cries. This only serves to make me feel less and less human, as if I deserve this. That I really do look this stupid and thus deserve him doing this to me to make sure I know it.

After a minute or so, he stops. As my breasts keep swinging from the last of his slaps, in which both breasts are very red, he turns around. Walking to a table that is behind him, he grabs something. Turning back to me, he wraps a length of smooth black rope around my right breast, making it stop swinging.

"Not again," I groan as he loops the rope around the base of my tit. He then makes a fancy loop with the rope and pulls the other end of the rope through it, squeezing my boob at the base, making me almost scream with how hard he tightens it.

I had my breasts tied earlier, but he is just so cruel. He pulls and pulls to make the rope tighten so much. I mean, if I didn't know better, I would think he's trying to pull my boob right off. He pulls, adjusts, then pulls again to tighten it.

"People will want to see them even fatter looking," he comments as he sees my constant pained reaction. He finally ties the rope off and then grabs my hair to force me to look at it. I even think he says something like, "look at it," only I can really only focus on the pain and how I can feel my heartbeat.

I look down at my boob which looks like a modified balloon of sorts as I feel it throb and pulse. And it might be my imagination, but it does look even bigger. I feel it swelling and in a wild moment where my mind seems to break, I picture having tits that could fit in size M cups just so I could look even more foolish like this.

Barely a couple of seconds pass before he starts on my other breast. I keep whimpering and begging as he goes on, making sure it is as tight as possible. All I can do is whimper and beg as I'm so stretched that I can't even move. I'm completely helpless to even move an inch.

Suddenly he reaches out and grabs both of my nipples after he finishes tying them off. He pulls on my nipples hard, but upward. At this I tense as my breasts are pulled upward and stretched painfully while tied, which is a sort of pain I've never felt.

"Cows do not say words. Cows Moo. Cows barely even talk. Cows just stand there with their big fucking udders and let others do whatever they want. If I hear you say anything other than a MOO again, then I will pull these udders to the floor and insert a cock so large up your ass, it'll come out your mouth, understand?!" He growls with such intensity that it takes the air out of me.

I nod once, my eyes filled with fear. And then it happens. Something about him and his threat while so naked and helpless...I cum. I orgasm with him still pulling on my breasts. It's a small and light orgasm, but I still feel the waves of pleasure move over me at the feeling of him doing this to me when I am so helpless. I try hard to hide it from him as I fear he might hurt me if he finds out, like I wasn't supposed to cum.

He lets go of my breasts and I'm able to breathe again, even if it is a pant. Making up my mind now, I decide that yes, I'm only to "moo" if I want to say anything more. That this guy isn't like the others at all and is very much cruel. I just hope my inner darkness doesn't try to provoke him on purpose.

"Fucking cows thinking they're people," he mutters to himself as he grabs something off the table behind him. He turns back to where I see it's a collar...with a cow bell. I say nothing as he puts the collar on me, making it very tight to the point it chokes me. And as he does it, I hear the loud CLANG, CLANG, CLANG of the bell as it moves about, like it is made to be as loud as possible.

The collar clicks once it is secured and he steps back to look at it. He then gets a smile on his face as if he likes what he sees. Likes seeing me naked, with this cow bell and tied tits as I'm stretched.