Useless rested on her mat, finished with her taking over Whore's punishment. She was sore, but had learned to push through the pain. Sometimes pain is all that was given.
She lay on her mat, watching her home. Hope still dwelt inside her, but not hope of escape or freedom. She no longer knew what those words meant, in fact, she no longer considered them. Like Whore, who had been taken from the upper levels, the thought of that terrified her.
Here was safe, familiar. Here she knew what she was and what to do. Her Master may be cruel sometimes, he could also be kind. Words given, food improved, nights in soft fluffy bedding and warm showers.
She hoped he gave her a chance to prove her worth once more. To earn the word that send climaxes through her body. To be given the chance to serve him.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Useless, stairs." came the voice that tingled her cunt to hear. Master. Without a pause, she jumped up and moved from her cell around the others and to where she knew was the right place.
Her knees hit the tiled floor and her hands immediately moved to her back, back straight, eyes down. Now she waited. Her eyes ran over the stairs she had stared at for long periods of time. Wooden stairs that creaked if someone went up or down the wrong. The bright orange paint that coated the bottom stair front. Not terribly obvious, but enough to warn anyone coming down that it was the stopping point.
If Useless approached the orange, she knew her collar would shock her unconscious, no matter how she reacted. Only a leash would counter it, and those were forbidden to touch unless specifically requested as the bouncers had when there.
There was nothing for her to do but wait, and think. What would her Master allow her to do this time? Perform? Be rented out? Work the club? Her mind ran over all the things that wait for her above. She had her favourites, but no matter what he commanded, she would do gladly, to please Him that owned her.
Time passed, how long was unknown to her. Her back stayed straight, her hands clasped and her eyes on the orange stripe.
Finally footsteps approached, the soft soles of her Master's shoes, stopping next to her. He said nothing, just waited more. When he first had her, she would look to see what he wanted. He had beaten that from her.
Now, she was his second oldest slave. Only Whore was older than her. If there had been those before, Whore didn't know. She knew there were ones before she came. Her sister slave had confessed that. And there had been many, many until Worthless, and nearly as many until Cocksucker and Pointless had stayed.
A clasp of a leash snapped on her collar and she scrambled to her feet. That too had been a lesson. Hours and hours of endless squats, to condition her to get to her feet had been punctuated with canes to every part of her body.
Without comment, her Master lead her into the club, the dim lights and loud music a contrast to her home. Small steps brought her next to Master, alert for any signal to react, but she was led through the club.
Hands touched her as she passed, her eyes never budged from her Master's back. A slap to her ass caught her off guard and had her double step from the force almost running into the man who held her leash.
