I was an eighteen year old senior when I got my varsity letter for fast pitch softball at the end of the school year.  This was my one and only chance to play high school ball because my father had worked in Europe the last three years and they didn’t have fast pitch at the school I attended. 

I had heard the stories from my father about what used to happen to new lettermen, but like almost every state there was a law against hazing as an initiation to clubs, fraternities, and sororities.  So when I attended the next to last club meeting of the year on Sunday night, I wasn’t particularly worried.  I knew, from the initiation in the fall that new members wore a chain locked around their necks for a week.  No one outside the club knew what it signified and no one in the club would talk about it.  I was eighteen years old and had the world by the tail.  Good grades, about to join the most prestigious club in the school, even if only for a few weeks until graduation, and I was going to college in the fall.

The night of the initiation, when I got to the meeting at the auditorium, all of the new letter winners were sitting in chairs on the stage while the rest of the club members were seated in the audience.  There were eight of us, three girls and five boys, from softball, baseball, and girl’s and boy’s track that had won our first letter.  Out in the audience, both the boys and girls were pretty rowdy, laughing and yelling to us.  They were calling out things like "Welcome to the club, meat," and "I can’t wait to see the cute butt on that one," as they pointed at one or another of us.  I thought it was interesting that the girls were participating in the razzing as much as the boys because it is not normally behavior one associates with high school girls.

After about ten minutes, the president of the club came out onto the stage and picked up a microphone.  He called for everyone to quiet down a few times and the audience finally settled down in their seats.  "As you know," he began, "this club has always had a very rigorous initiation.  But about five years ago, we had to stop when the state said that we could not engage in hazing anymore."  There were some boos directed at politicians from the audience at that comment.  He let it go on for a few minutes before he continued.  "In keeping with our traditions, however, we have come up with an alternative that is equally as rigorous but doesn’t violate the law."  Then he turned away from the audience and toward us, setting the microphone down.  "If you want to join this club, you will be assigned to someone as slaves for a period of one week.  Whoever wins you will be able to order you around during that time.  With a couple of exceptions, you must follow the orders given you or you will not be allowed to join this club.  Those exceptions are that you cannot be ordered to have sex with someone and you can’t be ordered to harm yourself.  Do any of you want to back out?"

Each of us looked up and down the line at the others sitting on the stage to see if anyone was going to withdraw.  None of us had the courage to get up and walk out in front of everyone else so we all shook our heads no, despite any misgivings that we had.  And at that point, I had plenty of them.  The two exceptions left a lot of wiggle room as far as I was concerned.  For example, he didn’t say that someone couldn’t harm us, just that we could not be ordered to harm ourselves.  The other thing was, as we learned in the Clinton administration, the definition of sex was rather vague.

"Okay, then.  Guys, go off stage to my right and girls to my left.  There will be a couple of members there to help you prepare for the lottery."  We stood up and went to the wings where he had directed us.

There were two senior girls waiting for us off stage.  They had put three paper bags on the floor.  We were told to each take a bag, go behind a flat that had been set up and change.  I picked up a bag and looked inside.  It held a bikini, a very small one from the looks of it.  I went behind the flat with the other two girls and pulled mine out of the bag.  It was the skimpiest bikini I had ever seen.  It had two small triangles to cover my nipples with thin strings to hold them in place and a thong bottom that was another small triangle for the front and strings.  Now I understood the comments about the cute butts.  The three of us looked at each other and started to undress.  Each of us was an athlete, so we did not have all of the body taboos that most people who are ashamed of their bodies have, but still I blushed as I realized how little of me the bikini actually covered.  I gave silent thanks that my pubic hair was pretty sparse as I tucked a few hairs that were sticking out into the thong.  Jennifer, a black girl who ran track, was furiously trying to get her thick, curly hair under the triangle and I felt sorry for her.

When the three of us had changed, we came out from behind the flat.  The two girls waiting for us waited for a signal from the other wing and when they got it, all eight of us were led back to the center of the stage and told to face the audience.  The guys were all wearing tight and small thongs and it was apparent which ones of them were well endowed.  The president hung a card on a string around our necks, numbered one, two, and three for the girls and one through five for the guys.  Two boxes, which had been sitting on the stage, were passed down to the audience.  One was labeled girls and one was labeled boys.  Inside each box were sealed envelopes.  All of the girls in the audience selected from one box and the boys from another.

When all of the envelopes had been handed out, the president told everyone to open their envelopes.  The only sound in the auditorium was the sound of ripping paper.  No one reacted and I guessed they had been coached to keep us in suspense for as long as possible.

Holding his hand above the head of the first boy, he asked who had a blue 1.  A junior girl came out of the audience and up to the stage.  She was handed a short length of chain and leash by the president and the boy was told to kneel.  From behind, the girl locked the chain around his throat and attached the leash.  She told him to stand up and as she walked away, she told him to heel.  Leading him on the leash, she went to an open seat on the aisle and had him kneel on the floor.

And so it went until all five of the boys were kneeling in the aisle.  Then it was the girls’ turn.

I was number three, so I got to watch as the first two girls were collared and led from the stage.  Now, standing alone, I felt the entire audience staring at me.  The president held his hand over my head and asked who had the pink three.  From the audience came one of the senior football players, tall and heavyset.  I knelt down and felt the collar go about my throat before he locked it in place.  He attached the leash and then I followed him as he led me off the stage.

"That concludes our auction," the president announced.  "We will meet back here in one week to determine the fate of our initiates."

The boy who had won me stood up and tugged on the leash, signaling me to stand up.  As I got up, several of his friends came over and surrounded me.  Through the cluster of bodies, I could see several other similar groupings around the auditorium.  They were making comments, saying things like, "She seems compliant enough," and "You lucky devil."  I felt a hand on my bottom and twirled around, to the laughter of the group around me.  My new owner leaned over and whispered in my ear, "If anyone wants to touch you, let them.  Stand there and don’t move or you will be punished."  I wondered what kind of punishment could be worse than being felt up by a gang of teenage boys.  But then I felt another hand on my hip and as I stood there, it moved around to my bottom.  As soon as it left me, another hand felt my stomach and one reached down to my thigh.  Within seconds, there were hands all over me.  I stood like a statue while they touched me.  After about a minute, one bold soul put his hand on my breast.  I felt my nipple get hard through the thin fabric of the bikini.  When I didn’t move, another hand reached between my legs from behind.  I felt his hand rubbing my mound and his finger creased the bikini bottom as he pressed a finger into my slit.  I started to lose focus as the finger moved slightly, rubbing the fabric against the inside of my vagina.  I knew I was getting wet and that there would be a stain on the bikini when he removed his hand, but I was at the point where I really didn’t care.  I was enjoying the experience of being caressed, not just there, but all over my body.

After a few moments, the boy who won me told the others that that was enough and we had to go.  With groans, the hands left my body and I suddenly shivered as the reality of what had happened rose to my consciousness.  I didn’t dare look down to see the wet spot on my bikini, afraid that the humiliation would cause me to lose it.

As the boys surrounding me separated, I was led by the leash out of the auditorium.  One of the girls who had been backstage handed the boy the bag with my clothes.  He took it and led me out of the school and to the parking lot.  He had a new pickup truck and he opened the passenger door for me and told me to get in.  It was dark outside, and the school was deserted, so no one outside the varsity club saw what happened.  I saw one of the boy slaves still leashed getting into a girl’s car, but they were the only others outside.

Once he was in the truck, he turned to face me.  "I don’t know what you expected, but I am sure this wasn’t it," he began, "but this is my senior year and it is the first time I won the lottery.  Don’t worry; I will abide by the rules.  You aren’t in any danger of getting raped.  But make no mistake; you are my slave for the next week.  Do you understand?"

All I could do was nod my head.

"You will respond to questions verbally followed by the word Master.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

"Very good, slave.  What time do you have to be home tonight?"

"My parents are expecting me about midnight.  If I am going to be later, I have to call."

"Master." I quickly added when I saw him frown.

He started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot.  It only took about ten minutes to get to his house.  It was dark inside and I wondered if his parents were already asleep.  He parked in the driveway and got out holding the leash that was still attached to my collar in his hand, pulling me across the seat until I slid out the driver’s side door.  Leading me on the leash, he went up the walk to the front door, took out a key, and unlocked it.  Once inside, he flipped on the hall light and closed the door after I entered.  He led me down the hallway past the living and dining rooms to the family room at the back of the house.  Sitting down on a chair, he turned on a lamp and watched me as I stood in the center of the room.

I blushed at having him stare at me, examining almost every inch of my body since the bikini really didn’t cover very much.  After a few minutes, he stood up and took the leash off my collar.  Then he sat down and ordered me to strip.

I looked at him for only a few seconds like he was crazy.  Despite it only being moments before I reacted, it seemed to me like minutes passed because time had slowed down so much for me.  I felt my arms move in slow motion behind my neck to untie the first string of the bikini top.  It was still held in place by the string behind my back and my breasts, which were not that large, barely jiggled as the string fell down my front.  I reached behind me to undo the string at the back.  As I slowly pulled the knot loose, I wondered what in the hell I was doing.  I didn’t know if protesting would do me any good, but then I realized that I wanted him to see me naked.  I believed him when he said that I was safe so I wasn’t worried about losing my virginity.  What I felt was a thrill that was more closely akin to exhibitionism.  The string came apart and I dropped the top on the floor beside me.  It was then that I had a horrible vision of his parents coming into the room.

"Master, what if your parents wake up?" I asked.

"My dad’s mother is very ill.  She isn’t expected to live much longer.  He and my mother are a thousand miles away.  No siblings either if you are worried about that."

"I’m sorry about your grandmother, Master."

He just nodded.  Reassured, I undid the knot at my hip and pulled the bottom off.  It went to the floor with the top and I stood naked in front of a male for the first time.  It was so different than what I expected.  I expected to have some kind of effect on him but he surprised me as he remained seated and stared at me.  After several minutes, he told me to put my hands together behind my neck.  When I did, he told me to pull my elbows back and spread my legs.  Again, I did as I was told.  I could feel my breasts being pulled up and my small pink nipples were as hard as pebbles.

"Is Master pleased by what he sees?" I asked after several more minutes.

"Very much so," he answered.  "However, I did not give you permission to talk.  You just earned a punishment."

I don’t know if I trembled at the word punishment.  His rebuke had taken me by surprise.  He got up from his chair and went out of the room.  I heard a door open as I stood in place, followed by the sound of running water.  When he returned, he carried a bowl of steaming water, a towel, a razor, and some shaving cream.  He put them on the floor beside me and took his seat.

"I could whip you for speaking without permission, but you are new to this and have responded quite satisfactorily so far, so I won’t," he began.  "Instead, I want you to shave your pubic hair."

My mind began racing when he told me I could be whipped.  So much so that it took several moments for the rest of what he said to sink in.

"You want me to shave my pubic hair?" I asked, half disbelieving and half wondering if I could really do it because I knew he was serious.

"Yes.  Sit down, slave, and spread your legs as wide as possible.  Don’t make me repeat an order."

I don’t know how or why it happened, but the moment he addressed me as slave, with me standing naked on display in front of him, I really believed I was a slave.  I sat down abruptly and spread my legs out wide.  I picked up the towel and dipped it in the water, then rubbed the wet part of the towel over my sparse hair.  The shaving cream came next and as I rubbed it on, I felt myself begin to grow wet again.  Until that moment, this had not been a sexual kind of experience for me.  It was more like a fantasy about exhibitionism, not sex or slavery.  Trying to hide my reaction, I rinsed off my hand in the bowl and picked up the razor.  But as the razor cut through my hair, I felt the sensations building even more.  I had to lift my hips up a little to get at the bottom where the hair came to a point and as I did, I realized how similar my action was to a woman thrusting up during intercourse.

I hurried as much as I could, being careful not to cut myself, but wanting this to be over as quickly as possible.  When I was shaved bare, I used the towel to wipe off the last bits of cream.  I put the towel down and started to stand up but he stopped me and I quickly resumed my position in front of him with my legs spread, only this time with a bald mound and my lips slightly parted.  I blushed as I realized what I must look like to him.  I wanted to finger myself but I didn’t want him to know that was what I wanted.

"Tell me what you are feeling, slave," he finally asked.

"I’m a little confused, Master," I answered.

"How so?"

I hesitated, wondering what to say.  Then I decided that the truth would be the best policy.  "I want to have an orgasm, Master, because I am really turned on by what is happening to me, but I didn’t want you to know that is how I felt."

"Good.  You may masturbate, slave."

"Master?"

"I thought I was pretty clear.  Play with yourself until you come."

I must have blushed crimson all over based on the heat I felt throughout my body.  I reached down and put one finger inside myself.  My other hand went to my breast and began playing with one of my nipples.  Within seconds I was leaking as my finger worked in and out of my pussy.  I threw my head back and moaned as the pleasure built up quickly.  Within a minute or two, I had the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced.  My body was shaking and my hips kept pushing up to meet my finger.  Even after I climaxed with a loud squeal, my body kept reacting and I continued to move around my finger, seeking another release.

He stopped me and told me to lick my finger clean.  Then he had me change position so I was on my knees, sitting back on my heels with my legs spread.  He had me put my hands behind my back.  He went to another room for a moment and returned carrying a sleep mask and a piece of rope.  Kneeling behind me, he crossed my wrists and tied my hands together.  Next he put the sleep mask over my eyes, blinding me.  I heard him sit down in his chair and unbuckle his pants.  I thought I knew what was coming next and actually looked forward to it.

I was right.  He ordered me over to his chair and told me to suck him.  Blindfolded, and with my hands behind me, I got up on my knees and wiggled over to him until he reached out and touched my shoulders.  A slight pressure from him helped me reposition myself and I leaned down with my mouth open searching for his cock.  When my chin brushed the tip of it, I got my bearings and wrapped my lips around the head.  I just used my tongue at first, rubbing him, but as I felt him respond, I took more of him into my mouth.  I began raising and lowering my head, putting as much of him inside me as I could bear, keeping my lips tightly closed around his penis.  I had never sucked a boy before, but I could tell I was doing it correctly from his reactions.

Just before he exploded, he grabbed the back of my head and held it down tightly.  The salty taste surprised me and I almost gagged from the sperm shooting down my throat while my mouth was full of his cock.  I swallowed everything I could and used my tongue to try to clean him while he was still inside me.  He released my head from his grip and I straightened up, sitting back on my heels.  I heard him zip up his pants and he told me to stand up.  When I did, he got up also and came around behind me.  Reaching around, he cupped each breast in one of his hands and began kneading them gently.  He used his left hand to pinch my nipple and rolled it softly between his fingers.  I pressed back against him, my tied hands seeking his cock through his jeans and moaned with both pleasure and frustration as he played with me.  After another minute or two, as my need built up again, he stopped.  He removed the blindfold and told me to follow him.

We went to the kitchen and he poured a glass of milk and took an apple from the fridge.  He sliced up the apple and sat down at the table, telling me to kneel beside him.  He put a piece of apple in his hand and offered it to me.  With my hands still tied behind me, I had to take it in my mouth directly from his hand and realized he was feeding me as he would a pet.  As I chewed on the apple, he ate a piece watching me.  When I swallowed, he held the glass to my lips and I took a sip, being careful not to dribble any.  When we finished eating, he told me to stand up.

Being careful to keep my balance, I got to my feet.  His head was at the level of my breasts and he took one of them in his mouth and ran his tongue around the nipple, sucking just slightly.  He used one of his hands to spread my legs and cupped it against my mound.  One of his fingers slipped easily inside me and I felt it probing for my clit.  When he found it, he wiggled his finger around it and I felt myself losing control of my body again.  It began reacting as if I was a mindless being and the center of the universe became the spot of pleasure deep inside me as he continued to work his magic.  He bit my nipple a little and tugged on it as I pushed down against his hand.  He pushed back, almost lifting me to my toes with just his arm.  Pressed down into his hand like that, I felt the last shreds of my inhibitions flow from me like a river emptying into the ocean.  I felt safe and secure with his finger inside me and my mound cupped tightly in his hand.  When I came, it was even more intense than when I had masturbated for him.  I almost lost my balance, I was bucking so furiously, but he reached around me and held me up with his other arm.  It was a good thing he did, because when the never ending orgasm finally ended, my knees were weak and I had trouble standing.

He held me like that for a few moments, and then stood up with his arm still around me.  He pulled me tightly against him and I turned my face up to him, my mouth seeking his in the most wonderful kiss you could imagine.  Our tongues danced and played with each other as our lips were crushed together.

When we finally parted, he untied my hands and told me to kneel down, which I did, spreading my knees and putting my hands behind my back as he had instructed me earlier.  Then he sat down in his chair and began talking.

"Tonight, you learned a little of the pleasures of slavery.  Tomorrow, you will learn the rest.  But for now, I have one more instruction for you.  For the next week, you are forbidden to wear a bra or panties.  You are also forbidden to wear pants, shorts, or pantyhose.  You may wear skirts and blouses that button, or dresses, and shoes.  Your only jewelry will be the chain around your neck.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

"You will spend every evening here, until your curfew.  Let you parents know that it is part of the initiation.  You will meet me in the parking lot after school and I will take you home.  Next weekend, I expect you to stay all weekend.  Make arrangements to cover yourself with your parents.  The club will give you a letter about a retreat if you need it.  Any questions?"

"I do have one, Master."

"What is it?

"Earlier you mentioned a punishment, Master.  How will I be punished?"  Just then it hit me.  I had phrased the question as if punishment was a certainty.

"You will learn about that tomorrow night.  Now go get dressed so I can take you home."

I glanced up at the clock and saw that it was already 11:30.  If I had had to guess, I would have said that it was much earlier, the time with him flew by so quickly.  I got up and ran to the bag near the front door and got dressed, leaving my panties and bra in the bag.  I called out, "I’m dressed, Master," and waited for him.

He joined me at the front door and we went out to his truck.  He opened the door for me and I got in.  When he pulled out of the drive, I leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.  The drive home was uneventful.  We were both very quiet.  When he pulled up to my house, we gave each other a long kiss good night and I got out of the truck and waved to him as I walked up to the door.

Mom was waiting for me and asked me how it went.  I told her it wasn’t what I expected but that it was okay and I was fine.  She told me to get up to bed because I had school tomorrow and it was late.  I wasn’t at all worried about school.  We only had one more week before finals and I was an honor student.  But I hurried up to my room before she could quiz me about the evening.

Once in bed, I couldn’t sleep because my mind was racing.  I was reliving everything that had happened tonight and found that I had enjoyed the experience.  I wondered what kind of weirdo that made me.  After all, I had been put on display to about eighty people, had a dog collar locked around my neck, given away in a lottery, stripped and masturbated for a boy I had not known before this evening, had my hands tied while I sucked his cock on command, and been fingered to orgasm.  Not exactly your typical Sunday night, I thought and laughed.  I tossed and turned for awhile longer, before I realized what I needed.  As I lay in the dark, I spread my legs and put my finger inside me again.  While I played with myself, I went through the evening one more time, picturing myself as if I was an observer of the events instead of a participant.  When I had my orgasm, I thrashed about, kicking the covers off the bed.  When it was finally over, I was able to close my eyes and go to sleep.  In my dreams that night, I was a kidnapped princess in the Middle East, captured in a raid and enslaved by the leader of a barbarian tribe.  I was made to serve the tribe with labor by day and serve my master by night, all the time kept naked and bound in some way.

When the alarm went off, I jumped out of bed despite the short night.  After a quick shower, I was able to look at the chain around my neck for the first time while I put on my makeup.  It wasn’t particularly heavy, although I was almost always conscious of it around my throat.  You wouldn’t look twice at it if you saw it anywhere else but around someone’s neck.  The two ends were joined by a padlock at the back; nothing special, unless of course you wore it as a slave.

Leaving the bathroom, I was halfway down the hallway to my room before I realized that I was still naked.  I had left the robe I usually wore in my room and quickly scampered back there when I heard my mother in my parents’ room.  After last night, being nude seemed like the most natural thing in the world to me.  I got to my room and closed the door just as she came out.

Deciding what to wear presented a new problem.  I only had two blouses that weren’t white.  I settled on the green one with a white skirt.  The skirt was rather short and I would have to be very careful at school all day that I didn’t flash everyone, but it was the only one that matched the blouse.  I got dressed quickly being careful to not tuck the blouse in too tightly so that my breasts would not push against it.  However the material rubbing against the nipples quickly hardened them and there was little I could to prevent them from poking through.

At breakfast, I told them that I would be home late because I was going to a friend’s house.  They didn’t question me about it because I had never given them any reason to not trust me.  I think they assumed that we would be studying for finals which they knew were coming up next week.  My father asked about the chain and I told him I had to wear it for a week at part of the varsity club initiation.  He asked what it symbolized and I told him that we weren’t sure but would find out after the initiation was over.  I said that my guess was that it was a reminder that a chain is only as strong as its weakest link and what that meant to teams in sports.  That seemed to satisfy him so I finished eating quickly in order to avoid telling them any more lies.  I was at the bus stop a good fifteen minutes early because of that.

As I stood there, I could feel the breeze blowing up my skirt, reminding me of my bare pussy underneath it.  I really wanted to touch myself again, but two things stopped me.  First, I was out in the open where anyone driving by could see me.  But more important to me right then was the fact that if I grew wet, there was nothing to stop it.  It would run down my leg or stain the skirt, and tell everyone that I was horny.  I saw the bus a couple of blocks away and tried to concentrate on what I was going to be doing at school that day.  Just as it pulled up, Master’s truck came around the corner and stopped across the street.  He waved me over and I ran out in front of the bus and around to the passenger side of the truck.  He leaned over and opened the door for me and I climbed in.

The bus pulled away when the driver saw I had another ride to school.  But before Master put the truck in gear, he said he wanted to make sure that I was dressed appropriately.  Then he told me to unbutton my blouse and hike my skirt up around my hips.  I turned on the seat to face him and did as he said.  With my breasts and pussy exposed to him, I asked him if he was pleased.  He smiled and nodded, and after a quick kiss, he drove off.  He didn’t let me rearrange my clothing until we were in the parking lot.  Once buttoned up again and my skirt back to normal, he got out and came around to open the door for me.  He helped me out and we walked across the parking lot and into school together.

Once there, we split up to head to our home rooms.  After going to my locker and getting settled at a desk in the room, I started wondering about what tonight would be like.  He said that I would learn about punishment and other aspects of my slavery but I couldn’t imagine what they would be.  Maybe I was just being naïve, or maybe I didn’t want to think more about what would happen to me tonight, so I just blanked out the worst case scenarios.  Or maybe it was because I was still in a fog over what had happened last evening.  The bell rang and I just sat there until the teacher caught my attention by repeating my name.  I gathered my things quickly and got out.

The entire day was like that.  I don’t think I heard more than ten words spoken to me the whole day.  My thoughts keep jumping back and forth between last night and tonight.  The one exception was at lunch.  The girls I usually ate with wanted to know about the chain around my neck, just like my father did.  Of course I didn’t tell them but instead of lying, I told them it was a club secret.  One of them asked if was cold in the cafeteria and we laughed because it was usually the warmest area of the school.  It was clearly a reference to my nipples poking at my blouse.

However, once back in class after lunch, I again lost my focus.  I wanted to get the day over with as quickly as possible so that all of the questions I kept thinking about would be answered.  Mercifully, the bell ending the last class finally rang and I hurried to my locker, packed up, and headed out to the parking lot.  Master was already standing by the truck looking for me and I waved at him as I approached.

He opened the driver door and told me to get in and slide over, which I did.  As soon as we left the parking lot, he told me to take off my clothes and lie down on the seat with my head in his lap.  I was so eager to experience my slavery again that I almost ripped the buttons off my blouse trying to get it undone.  When I was naked except for my collar, I laid down on my back looking up into his face.  I felt his penis at the back of my head, straining against the fabric of his jeans.  It did not take us long to reach his house but as we backed into the driveway, I realized what was different from last night.  Then I had been wearing a bikini and it was dark.  Now it was bright and sunny and I was naked.  I wondered how I was supposed to traverse the thirty feet to his front door without the neighbors seeing me.

I should have realized that he would have a plan.  After he got out, he picked up the leash from the floor of the truck and clipped it to the chain around my neck.  Because he had backed in, the open door on the driver side blocked most of the view from the road.  He had me turn over and, with his help, I climbed out head first.  I was on my hands and knees in the driveway with him standing behind me.  He told me crawl forward and go around the back of the truck where the tailgate was near the garage door.  I could feel my breasts hanging beneath me jiggle slightly as I crawled and reveled in the feeling of being treated as an animal.  When we made the turn around the back, I saw that the hedge growing along the walk to the door would continue to block most of the view of what we were doing.  At the door, I stopped and waited for him to unlock it before crawling inside.  Once the door was closed behind us, I began to get up but he put his hand on my shoulder pushing me back down again.

"Did I give you permission to stand, slave?" he asked.

"No, Master."

"Heel me," he instructed as he walked down the front hall and I followed behind him, still on my hands and knees.

Once in the family room, he took off the leash and had me kneel.  He went out of the room for a moment and returned carrying a large towel, the sleep mask, some duct tape, a handkerchief, and some rope. He spread the towel across the coffee table and had me lie down on my back on the table with my legs hanging off one end and my head off the other.  Kneeling beside me, he tied my ankles to the legs at one end then came around to my head.  He pulled my arms down and tied my wrists to the other two legs.  Next he put the sleep mask on, blinding me completely.  Finally, had me open my mouth, rolled the handkerchief into a tube, put it in my mouth, and put a piece of duct tape over it to hold it in place.

I can’t really describe the helplessness I felt.  I tested each of the bindings on my limbs and there was no slack at all.  I would not be getting off that table until he decided I should.  He leaned over and took one nipple in his mouth and nibbled it gently for a minute or two.  I arched my back and prayed that he would use his hands to touch me anywhere, but either did not sense my need or, if he did, ignored it.  When he finished, I heard him stand up and take his belt off.  I thought briefly that he was going to undress and make love to me while I lay on the table, but he spoke instead.

"Last night, I promised you that you would learn about the rest of your slavery tonight.  I spent a long time thinking last night about what is about to happen, wondering if I could go through with it.  So this is really a test for both of us; you as the slave and me as the master.  A few minutes ago, you tried to stand without permission.  Not that I need a reason for what I am about to do, but your giving me one makes it easier.  If we both pass, well and good.  But if either of us doesn’t, then we will know and better to find out now rather than later."

I still wasn’t sure where he was going with his speech when he stopped until I heard the whoosh of the belt cutting through the air just before it struck me.  I screamed as the pain across my belly burned into me but the makeshift gag reduced it to a whimper.  I was struggling with my bonds now, wildly trying to free myself, thrashing as much as I could on the table when the belt struck me across my thighs, adding another layer of pain on top of the first one.  My chest heaved as I tried to suck in as much air through my nose as I could and I broke out in a light sweat similar to what would happen as I stretched before practice.  He must of moved to my feet, although I didn’t hear him because the next stroke was laid on vertically, bisecting my breasts and running down to my naval.  Now I was afraid, not knowing how long my beating would continue.  Continuing around me, he put another stroke across my abdomen from the opposite side from where he started and one more on my thighs.  His final stroke smashed across my breasts, catching both nipples.  No more did I struggle against the ropes that held me to the table.  I was still as the pain coursed through my body.  I kept telling myself that this wasn’t happening, that I wasn’t being whipped, but the agony I felt belied my thoughts.

After several minutes, I realized the whipping had stopped when the pain changed from sharp, stabbing pain to a dull ache.  I heard him moving around the room and tried to turn my blind eyes to follow him.  Then I heard him leave the room, leaving me alone with my mind and body only connected by the hurt I felt from the whipping.  The hurt was not just the physical pain, but also emotional.  I had given myself to him as a slave, had done every outrageous thing he asked, and gotten whipped for it.  What did he think he was doing?  I wasn’t really a slave; this was a game we were playing as part of a club initiation.  I was not his property to do with as he pleased.  I started regretting everything that had happened to me, everything I had agreed to.

But suddenly, I realized what I was doing.  The negative self talk I was engaging in is one of the most powerful things in sports.  It can destroy performance just as surely as a pulled muscle or broken bone.  The only way out of it is an honest self-assessment.  Did I really regret what had happened since last night?  The answer was clearly no.  I had enjoyed all up to the whipping, had fantasized about it, and had experienced heights of pleasure previously unknown to me from it.  I had loved the feelings I had when he examined me, knowing that I was pretty and knowing the effect it was having on him to see me naked.  When he ordered me to strip in the truck this afternoon, I couldn’t move fast enough to get my clothes off for him.  What was it that I wanted, I asked myself?

Any athlete knows the quid pro quo of athletics.  A lot of hard work training for a few moments of bliss on the field during a game.  How was this any different?  Once I realized that, I was able to look at the pros and cons in a more balanced way.  What was it that I was getting from this experience and what was it that I had to give to get it?  As the pain ebbed away, the positives became larger and the negatives smaller in my own mind.  I felt a lot of tension flow out of me as I came to the conclusion that what had just happened, my whipping, was only a small part of what I was experiencing.  And in a way, it became a positive, too.  My earlier question to myself was answered.  He did see me as his property and all of a sudden I realized that if he felt that way, it was only because I was desirable to him.  The satisfaction I felt at that moment, knowing that he wanted me so much that he wanted to own me, was a form of positive reinforcement.  It made me feel better about myself and what I was doing.

I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts until that moment, that I never heard him come in again.  The first indication I had that he was present was when he pulled the sleep mask from my eyes.  I looked up at him with wonder in my eyes that he had done this to me.  He had whipped me with a leather belt, causing me excruciating pain, and made me feel good about it.

With one quick jerk, he ripped the duct tape from my mouth.  He took the handkerchief from my mouth and threw it on the floor.  "I have been watching you," he said.  I can see that you have reached a decision."

"Yes, Master."

"Care to tell me about it, slave?"

Before I answered, I came to understand something about myself.  Before when he had addressed me as slave, it was a game, a role I was playing.  Now when he did it, it was an acknowledgement of our relationship.  A fact.  I started babbling, trying to tell him everything I thought and all of the mental gymnastics I had gone through since he whipped me.  I couldn’t keep the sequence straight in my own mind so it came out jumbled until he put a finger to my lips to silence me.

"You don’t have to say anymore," he told me.  "I could see it all in your body language.  Just so you know, I have been taking AP psychology at the college the last two years because that is important to my career goals.  All that matters to me is that you want this to continue.  So do you?"

"Yes, Master.  I want to be your slave.  Master, may I beg a favor?"

"What do you want, slave?"

"Master, please let me please you.  Please make love to me."  I could hardly believe what I said.  Little Miss Goody Two Shoes begging to be fucked like a slave.

Still bound to the coffee table, I watched him undress.  After he was naked, he fished a condom from his jean’s pocket and put it on.  Then he knelt down between my spread legs.  "Before you climax, slave, you must beg for permission.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

He used his hand to put the head of his cock at my opening and leaned forward to move inside me.  I was surprised how easily he entered but by then I was sopping.  I didn’t even feel any pain when my hymen tore.  I lay there, completely passive because I was still tied up while he made love to me.  My only role was to move my hips and arch my back the little bit that I was able to maximize the pleasure for both of us.  In and out he went and the waves of pleasure built higher and higher.  It wasn’t just his cock inside me that was doing it either.  His hands roamed over my body, teasing it here, then caressing it there.  I was moaning and sighing while he made love to me, getting louder and louder all the time.  When I couldn’t stand it any more, I cried out to him, pleading for an orgasm.

"Not yet, slave."

I bit down on my lip, hard, trying to prevent my imminent orgasm.  In just a few seconds more, I felt him quiver all over and he shouted, "Now," as the ecstasy joined us into a single being.  He collapsed on top of me and I relished the feel of his weight crushing against me.

It was either an hour or a minute later that he got off of me.  Leaving me tied to the table, he gathered up his clothes and went to the bathroom.  When he returned, he untied me.  For the first time I saw the blood on the towel that indicated my transition to womanhood.  I asked to use the bathroom and he nodded.  My wrists and ankles were chaffed from the rope but not so much that it hurt or that I was worried it would show in the morning.  I used a damp cloth to wipe myself off.  I wanted to wash my face but I didn’t have make-up with me to redo it.  My hair was tangled and sweaty so I went back out to get a brush from my purse.  He had wiped off the table and must have thrown the towel away because I didn’t see it when I went back out.  He was sitting in the chair so instead of going back to the bathroom to brush my hair, I knelt down in front of him and started brushing it.  When I finished, I set the brush down on the floor and waited for him.  He was looking at me, but I am not sure if he was seeing me.  After a few minutes, he emerged from his trance.

"If we are going to continue this after the week is over, you will have to get some birth control," he announced.  "Now it is time to put my slave to work."

He stood up and motioned for me to follow him.  We went to his room, which was pretty messy.  "I need you to clean this room.  I want it spotless in one hour," he said.  Then he turned and left.

So there I was, naked in the room whose owner I had sucked off the night before and who had just screwed my brains out, and I had to clean it.  Not exactly your typical pleasure slave fantasy.  I set to work picking up the dirty laundry.  I don’t know how long his parents had been out of town, but there had to be at least two weeks worth of dirty clothes all over the floor.  I found a hamper in the bathroom and stuffed what I could inside it.  The remainder went on the lid after I closed it.  Next I tackled his desk and bookcase.  There were loose papers, books, and writing pads all over the place.  I didn’t throw anything away because I didn’t know what was important to him.  I changed the sheets on his bed after finding the linen closet in the hall and put the dirty sheets with the rest of the laundry.  Then I took one of his dirty shirts and used it to dust everything.  I found a vacuum cleaner in another closet in the hall and vacuumed the floor.  While it only takes a few seconds to describe what I did, it actually took me most of the hour to do the work.

When I finished, I went back to the family room where Master was waiting.  He took me back to his room and inspected my work.  After telling me that everything looked fine, he took me to the kitchen where a week’s worth of dirty dishes were my next task.  I did them as quickly as I could because I was ready for an encore of lovemaking.  But when I went back to the family room, he had something else in mind.  He had me stand while he put some music on the stereo then resumed his seat.  "Dance for me," he commanded.

The music was soft rock, something from the seventies and I closed my eyes for a moment to feel it then started moving.  My dancing wasn’t what you would see at a strip club; that is, I didn’t do anything that would be considered obscene.  It was more sensuous, more of a display of my body than an overt act of sexuality.  As I watched him for a reaction, we began to feed off each other.  The next cut was faster paced.  I put more energy into the dancing, moving faster and showing more athleticism.  I began perspiring and the light reflected off my shiny body.  The last cut was a slow dance.  He got up and danced with me, holding my naked body against his and wrapping his arms around me.  It felt good to dance with him naked.

When the third song was over, he led me outside to the backyard.  It was dark by now and he took off his clothes and lay face down in a deck chair that had been lowered so it was horizontal.  Next to him was a bottle of baby oil and he told me to give him a massage.  I knelt down beside him and rubbed some oil into my palms and started on his shoulders.  Despite being a lineman, he wasn’t fat at all.  It took a lot of effort to knead the muscles in his shoulders and back and I worked them for a long time.  I did his arms and legs next while he was still on his back.  When I finished them, he rolled over and I began working on his chest.  As I worked my way down, I knew that I was going to give him another blow job and looked forward to it.  I waited until most of the oil was gone from my hands and took his already erect penis in one hand while caressing him with my other.  Then I leaned over and began kissing his cock, moving up and down the length of it several times before I took it in my mouth.  I wanted him to feel this for a long time, so I was careful not to get him or me too worked up.

I must have had him in my mouth for more than ten minutes before he came.  When I felt that he was about to ejaculate, I went all the way down to the base of his penis so it was deep in my throat and let him come with my lips wrapped tightly around him so that nothing would leak.  His semen squirted down my throat and I almost gagged because it had no where to really go while his cock filled my mouth and throat.  Slowly, I pulled my head up, releasing his penis and swallowing all of his cum.

After thanking me, he stood up and took my hand.  He took me to the bathroom and we showered together, washing each other while we played with each other’s body.  I wanted him inside me in the worst way, but it was not to be.  However, after he got out of the shower, he kept the door open and told me to masturbate.  I frigged myself with the hot water pouring over me and it only took me a minute or two to climax because I was so worked up.

We dried each other off with big, fluffy towels, and he told me to get dressed because it was time for him to take me home.  Reluctantly, I put my clothes on and we went out to his truck.  When we got to my house, I gave him a kiss goodnight and went inside.

As I lay in bed, before drifting off to sleep, I decided that I liked being a slave.  I didn’t like the whipping he had given me earlier, and I didn’t like cleaning up after him.  But I loved the way I felt when he looked at me, I loved being naked around him, and I loved the fact that when I was with him, I gave up all control over what happened to me.  The last was the most surprising to me.  I was used to setting goals for myself and following through to achieve them with little or no assistance from others.  A week ago, if someone had described the situation to me, I would have said, "No way."  I was firmly in control of my own life and liked it that way.  So my reaction to losing control was surprising to me.

He had said that if this was to continue past this week, I would have to get some form of birth control.  While not assuming that it would continue, he was clearly hoping it would.  So I had to figure out if that was what I wanted also.  What was happening to me was opening up a whole new world for me but in the back of my mind, I knew that whenever I wanted it to stop, it would.  Could I go back to the way things were just 3 days ago and be satisfied?  Yes, I supposed that I could if I had to or wanted to.  I could enjoy the experience I was going through and then leave it behind if I wanted.  But did I really want to?  I knew that in the back of my mind, I was still playing a game, albeit, a fun, exciting, and very pleasurable one.  I had always been pretty straight laced, putting homework before parties, athletics before socializing and family before other relationships and friends.  But I knew that if this went beyond just this week’s initiation, all of that would change.

So what was it that I liked about being a slave?  I felt that if I could understand that, I could really make a good decision about what would happen when the initiation was over.  I started reliving the experiences of the last two days in my mind to try and understand.  I started with walking out on stage in the bikini.  I wasn’t humiliated or embarrassed by it at all.  But I wasn’t necessarily turned on by it either.  All things considered, I did not see that as influencing things that much.  What about when I was being felt up in the group.  That was a little different.  I was at the center of a small universe then, getting the undivided attention from several people.  And if I was the center of the universe, then my clit was the center of me for the first time and not my brain.  Now that was different.  I acknowledged that at first, it was difficult, but not too difficult, I remembered because of the way I had reacted to it.  And by the end of that experience, I was more concerned about the way people would view me than about what had actually happened.  I didn’t want others to know that I enjoyed it because I thought they would think of me as a slut.

When we got to his house and I took off my clothes, how did I feel?  Like a sexual being from the first instant.  And I liked that a lot.  I think it was the first time that anyone, including me, had looked at me like that.  Only a few years removed from the commencement of puberty, I hadn’t really had a chance to be that kind of person.  But being naked around him meant that that was all that I was.  He had to see me that way and I had to see me that way not because we wanted to, but because it was a fact that could not be ignored.  That lead to my own orgasms and the pleasure I had given him.  No negatives there, I thought, laughing to myself.  Today at school had been an interesting day from the point of view of my feelings.  On the one hand, I reveled in the secret (or not so secret to some because my lack of a bra was pretty obvious) and on the other, I did feel some fright at being exposed.  But the fear was not exposure of my body; it was about the exposure of the person in the body as someone who went way outside the normal range of expected behavior.  I don’t know how well you remember high school, but it is all about fitting in.  And what I was doing did not fit in with the people I was used to being with.

Then I remembered my being whipped.  I wanted to jump over that part but forced myself to consider it.  How did it feel emotionally?  Physically, it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me and there was no doubt in my mind about that.  But emotionally it had another effect.  It reinforced for me my slavery in a positive way.  A person who was truly free would have run at the first chance after that and a person who was truly a slave would not.  I had not, so what did that make me?  The answer was a slave.  Not just a role playing slave or not just someone fulfilling the requirements of a club initiation.  But a slave with all that it implies.  And there I stopped.  I didn’t have to continue on to recall the rest of the evening.  I had my answer.  Slavery was what I wanted so badly that I was willing to accept the physical pain from being whipped in order to remain a slave.  I didn’t have to think about the lovemaking or the chores after that because I knew what I wanted.  I wanted to be that sexual being.  I wanted to give up control of my own life to another in return for the way it made me feel.  And having reached that conclusion, I was able to fall asleep.

The rest of that week was pretty much the same thing.  I would go to school half dressed (well, completely dressed on the outside and naked underneath if you want to be picky).  Then he would take me to his house and we would have great sex, then he put me to work cleaning.  One evening, when I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor, I had an out of body experience where I suddenly seemed to leave my body and view myself from a few feet away.  I thought I looked really sexy, naked on my hands and knees like that, my small boobs hanging beneath me and my hair astray.  I wondered if this was what slaves in ancient room did, meaning work their asses off when they weren’t being used to pleasure their masters.

There was one change, I guess.  As the week went by, I became more brazen in the way I dressed and acted at school.  On the first Monday, I was being careful not to flash anyone while trying to give the appearance of being normally dressed.  But by Friday, I noticed that when I dropped a book, I went down to pick it up, not thinking about anyone seeing me without panties.  Or if I did think of it, I didn’t care.  To this day, I am not sure which.

I had told my parents earlier in the week that I was going on a varsity club retreat for the weekend.  The idea, I told them, was for seniors and juniors with good grades to coach other letter winners for finals to make sure they stayed eligible for the next season.  They never questioned me about it, trusting me completely.  Maybe I was rationalizing to myself, but I really believed that I hadn’t given them any reason not to.  I had discovered that I wasn’t the person I thought I was, and within the confines of the new knowledge I had gained about myself, I was acting appropriately.

That Friday, after Master pulled out of the parking lot, he turned the wrong way to go to his house.  I didn’t question him as he drove out of town.  Once we passed the town limits, he asked if I wanted to know where we were going.

"Yes and no, Master," I replied.

"Why yes and no?"

"Yes, Master, I am curious about where we are going, but I also know that you will tell me when you are ready and it is not your slave’s place to question your plans."

He just nodded and continued to drive until we reached a dirt road out in the country.  About a mile and a half up the road, he stopped next to a cabin.  It was pretty large, not your typical one room cabin in the woods.  We got out of the car but before going in, he had me take off my clothes and put them in the bag I had packed and brought along.  Being naked outside in the woods was a new experience for me and I loved the feel of the breeze from between the trees on my skin.

He got three bags from the back of his truck, mine and two of his and told me to bring them inside.  One of his was heavy and clanked when I picked it up so I carried that one with my right hand and the other two in my left.  I followed him up the steps and he used a key from his key ring to unlock the door.  Inside there was a large, comfortable room that had a kitchen and a living room.  Four doors along the back wall of the living room led to a bathroom and three bedrooms.  There were three pillars spaced about ten feet apart and about ten feet from the front wall.  Ten feet behind them was the wall that led to the bedrooms.  He had me kneel next to one of the pillars and took a chain and a lock from the heavy bag.  He ran the chain through my collar and around one of the pillars and locked it, securing me to the pillar.  I could stand up, kneel, or sit on the floor, but that was all I could do.  He took a book from his other bag, sat down in one of the easy chairs spaced around the room and began to read.

He was waiting for something, or, I suddenly realized, someone.  I had been kneeling for about fifteen minutes and was beginning to squirm to relieve the pressure on my knees when he looked up.  He saw my discomfort and told me that I could sit on the floor with my back to the pillar. After 10 more minutes, I heard some cars pull up outside.  I suddenly had a panic attack, reached up to the chain holding me to the pillar and pulled on it.  Master stood up, told me everything would be okay, and went outside.

As soon as he spoke, the panic left me and I calmed down.  I recognized the tone of voice he used as the same one he would have used if I were a baby or a pet, but it didn’t matter.  He had reassured me and that was what I had needed.  I got back on my knees, spread them as wide as I could, and put my hands behind my back.  I wanted to make a good impression, not of me, but of my Master and his training of me, on whoever came in.

It was two of the couples from the initiation, but not two masters and two slaves.  One of the couples was a male slave and his mistress.  Neither of the slaves was nude.  The boy had on a thong and his hard-on filled it so much that the tip pulled the waistband away from his abdomen.  The girl was wearing a summer dress and when she walked through the door, the sunlight streaming in behind her showed that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath it.  As soon as everyone was inside, the two slaves were ordered to strip.  I saw that both of them had been shaved.  It made the boy look really funny with his hard on sticking straight out and his balls pulled up.  When they were as naked as I was, they were chained to the other two pillars with chains running through their collars.

Master pulled three chairs across the room and positioned them in a line facing the pillars.  When the three of them were seated, we were told to stand and face them with our hands behind our back.  I noticed that as we got up, the boy’s erection was causing him some discomfort and I wondered how long it had been like that.

The other master spoke.  "Each of you will now masturbate for us."  Without hesitation, I spread my legs and reached down to my pussy.  The boy slave was almost as quick but the other girl slave hesitated.  Immediately, the master who gave us the order told us to stop.

My hands went behind my back almost as quickly as they had come out from behind it with the first order.  He got out of his chair, went to one of his bags, and took out a thick leather belt and some rope.  He carried them over to his slave and told her to turn around and put her arms around the pillar.  When she did, he tied her hands together, preventing her from turning around again.  Then he stepped back and proceeded to whip her.

After the first stroke, she was crying out for mercy, pleading with him to stop.  The belt continued to strike her and through her crying, she was promising to never hesitate again.  Ten times he whipped her across her back, bottom, and the back of her thighs until, from exhaustion or self protection, I wasn’t sure which, she sank to the floor.  He swung the belt five more times at the girl curled up in a ball as she writhed in pain on the floor.  When he finished, he told her to stand up again.  I could see the pain on her face and the red welts on her back as she struggled to her feet.  He untied her hands and tied them again behind her back, then took out a key and unlocked the chain going through her collar, holding it as he spoke to her.

"You will now satisfy each of the other slaves.  When you are through, you will satisfy us.  Get started."

She went over to the boy chained to the pillar and got down on her knees in front of him.  Without any preliminaries, she took him in her mouth and began moving her head so that her mouth slid up and down his penis.  It probably took him less than two minutes to come.  She swallowed as much as she could but some of his semen leaked from the corner of her mouth and ran down her chin.  Still on her knees, she came over and positioned herself in front of me.  Leaning forward, she opened her mouth and stuck her tongue inside me.  I don’t know if she had ever done a girl before, but she knew exactly what to do.  Within moments, her tongue had found my clitoris and I was squirming in place.  I was leaking all over her face as she moved her tongue around and kept twisting her head to match the movement of my hips.  I lost track of everything else but the pleasure I was feeling.  Time actually stopped for me until I finally climaxed in one long, loud, orgasm.

I was looking forward to watching her do our three owners but they took her to one of the bedrooms first, leaving the boy slave and I chained to the pillars.    We didn’t talk and it was about thirty minutes before our owners returned.  "Now, we are going to try this again," the other Master told us after the slave was fastened to the pillar by the chain again.

Our hands moved in unison to our genitals and we pleasured ourselves for their amusement.  In just a few minutes, I was ready to come.  I asked for permission from Master and when he gave it, I had my orgasm.  The other girl followed quickly after me, leaving the boy stroking himself.  When he finally ejaculated, he caught it in his free hand and smeared it all over his face; a trick he had been taught by his mistress, I assumed.

"Looks like you are last to finish," his mistress told him.  "Your slowness should be punished."

He turned pale and lowered his head.  His mistress approached him and after tying his hands behind the pillar took a leather bootlace from her pocket.  She tied one end around the head of his cock and pulled it up and away from him.  He broke into a sweat and she used her other hand to slap his penis hard.  He didn’t cry out, but moaned each time she slapped him.  His cock grew erect again and you could see how the bootlace tied to it constricted it around the head because the knot had been tied when he was flaccid.  He was grimacing now, with his teeth clenched tightly together as she beat his organ.

When she finished tormenting him, Master took over.  "Each of you will bring one of the other slaves to climax, but there is a twist.  The slave who makes another come closest to ten minutes from the start will win, next closest finishes second, and the last place slave gets punished.  I have the numbers one, two, and three on these slips of paper.  You will be number one," he said pointing at me.  "You will be number two and you will be number three."  He pointed first at the other girl then at the boy.  After the drawing, I got the boy, he got the other girl, and she got to do me.  "Slaves," he said finishing the instructions, "you will report your climax by calling out ‘Now’ when it begins.  But if you call out prematurely in order to defeat the others, we will know and you will be whipped."

It had never crossed my mind to cheat in the contest but the other two had already been punished so they may have considered it.  The other girl was freed and knelt in front of me and for the second time that afternoon to give me an orgasm.  Just as it hit, I remembered to call out and Master, clicking a stopwatch, wrote down the time but did not announce it.  Then I got to watch as the boy performed on the other girl.  I guessed that he had had lots of practice that week since he was owned by a female.  Once again, Master wrote down the time when he called out.  Then I was freed from the pillar and knelt in front of the boy.  He had already come twice and was flaccid when I wrapped my lips around his cock.  It took me several minutes just to make him hard again.  I think I gave him the world’s longest blowjob and my neck and shoulders began to ache as I moved up and down his shaft, trying to get him to come.  If my hands were free, I would have reached up to his scrotum to fondle it but they had been tied behind my back, as were the others when we were freed from the pillars.  After what seemed like an eternity, he called out and Master wrote down the time.

Still kneeling, Master came over to me and said he was sorry, but I took over eighteen minutes to make the slave come.  He put his hand under my arm to help me to my feet and, still holding my arm, led me outside.  The other two owners followed him.  He freed my hands and took a rope that the girl had brought.  After throwing it over the limb of a tree, he tied my wrists to one end.  Then he pulled on the other end, lifting me up until my feet were off the ground.  He tied the rope around the trunk and I twisted in the slight breeze.  Taking the wide leather belt that had been used earlier on the other girl, he stepped back and laid on the first stroke of my punishment across my back.

I cried out when he hit me with the belt, not just from the blow but also from the pain in my shoulders as I swung from my wrists.  As I twisted and swung, every inch of my body was available to him to strike and I don’t think he missed much of it.  My stomach and breasts, my back, my thighs on the front and back, and my bottom all felt the leather and the pain that it caused.  After several blows, I no longer had the energy to even cry out and bore my pain in silence.  I thought I was about to lose consciousness when it finally stopped and I felt myself being lowered to the ground.  When my feet touched, my knees buckled and I continued to sink down until I was lying prone in the dirt and dead leaves.

I was pulled to my feet by Master and taken back inside where I was once again chained to the pillar.  However, I was allowed to kneel instead of standing up.  As we were walking inside, Master leaned over and whispered in my ear that he was proud of the way I accepted the punishment and, weak as I was and with the welts on my body still burning, I smiled.

Our three owners went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.  I was a little surprised that they didn’t have us do it for them.  After several minutes, they each came back carrying two bowls, one with water and one with some kind of watery porridge, probably oatmeal with two much liquid.  The bowls were placed on the floor in front of each of us and we were ordered to eat.  Thankfully, we were allowed to use our hands to pick up the bowls instead of having to lean over and put our faces in them.  While we ate, they prepared dinner for themselves; cold chicken and a salad.  I would have loved to have a piece of the chicken and thought about begging Master for some, but by the time I finished both bowls, I really couldn’t eat any more.

When we had finished eating, we were allowed to clean up.  One at a time, we were taken to the bathroom to shower.  The other two went first.  When the girl came out, I saw that her master had applied rouge to her nipples in order to make them stand out against her pink flesh.  When it was my turn, I saw that my makeup had been taken from my bag and put in the bathroom, as had the toiletries for the other slaves.  Master took me in to the shower and bathed me.  He was very gentle, not rubbing the welts but patting them with the soapy cloth.  When he washed my hair, he took his time and massaged my scalp.  Between his touch and the steamy hot water, I was in heaven.  When I was clean, Master told me to put on my make-up and fix my hair.

"Master, would you like me to rouge my nipples for you?" I asked when I was finished.

"No, slave.  I will do it for you."

He found the tin of rouge and dapped a little on his finger and rubbed it into the nipple.  It felt good to have him touch it and after the way he had bathed me in the shower, I was ready to do anything for him.  He finished one and started on the other.  I looked down at my nipple and was surprised at how it looked.  Normally, it was a light pink, not so different in shade from the rest of my skin.  But now it stood out.  It was the difference between virginal and womanly.  When he finished the other one he told me use the toilet.

This was something new.  I hadn’t really needed to pee in evenings we spend together during the last week.  I sat on the toilet with him watching me and was so embarrassed, I couldn’t let the flow start.  But he was patient and finally I relaxed enough to relieve myself.  He kept watching me intently as I patted myself dry and I blushed again.

When I finished, took me back to the others.  Once again I was chained to the pillar by the collar.

The girl over us spoke to us.  "We are going to bed now and you need to get some sleep.  You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.  No talking."  The two boys started heading for the bedrooms while she turned out the lights.

"Master, may I speak?" I asked as Master walked away.

He turned on his heel to face me.  "What is it, slave?"

"Please fuck me, Master.  I want to please you."

He came over and took one knee in front of me so that we were almost at eye level with each other.  "Do you want this to please me or to please yourself?"

"Actually, it is both, Master," I answered at the other two owners came over to eavesdrop.

"Then beg for it as a slave would."

"Master, your slave begs you to use her for your pleasure.  Please use me, Master."

"That was very good," he said, laughing.  "But not tonight."

He stood up and headed for us room.  The three of them were laughing at me as the lights went out and they closed the doors to their rooms.  I was absolutely devastated.  I laid down crying silently to myself.  As tired as I was, it was impossible to go to sleep.  Partly because of the coolness of the night and the fact that we had not been given blankets, partly because of lying on the hard, wooden floor, but mostly because I felt rejected by my Master after I had offered him the use of me.

When I finally did drift off to sleep, I slept fitfully, dreaming of being abandoned naked in the woods, wandering around in circles, and, when I did encounter people, having them turn their backs to me.

It was about seven in the morning when Master woke me up and we showered together.  I tried to go down on my knees in the shower to give him a blowjob but he wouldn’t let me, telling me that it would have to wait because the cabin didn’t have that much hot water and others would need some.  After we had dried off, he left to make breakfast while I put on my make-up.  I used the rouge on my nipples again because I liked the way it made them so visible.  It was like an extra degree of nudity.

I ate breakfast from Master’s hand, kneeling beside his chair.  The others were getting up and getting ready for the day.  When we finished eating, he had me follow him outside.  I noted the rope he was carrying with some concern.  He found a spot he liked between two trees and had me stand between them facing the road while he tied a rope to each wrist.  He left me standing there while he went around the back of the cabin.  When he returned, he was carrying a step ladder which he set up next to the tree on my left.  He climbed the ladder while holding the rope and tied it around the trunk and over a tree limb so my arm was pulled up and away from my body.  Then he moved the ladder to the other tree and did the same thing.  My arms were now stretched up and out at a forty-five degree angle.  Kneeling beside me, he tied more rope around each ankle.  One at a time, he tied those ropes to the base of each tree, pulling my legs apart and adding to the strain on my shoulders because with my legs pulled wide, I was closer to the ground.  When he was finished, I was displayed as an X between the two trees.

He went back into the cabin, leaving me alone with my thoughts.  I was not alone for very long, however.  About fifteen minutes later, the other two slaves were brought out.  Each of them were bound to other trees in different ways.  The girl was bound with her back to a tree and her wrists tied behind it.  Then they lifted her feet and bound her ankles together behind the tree, opening her legs.  One more strand of rope went around her belly to hold her against the tree and prevent her from slipping down.  She was literally hanging in her bonds against the tree.  The boy had ropes tied around his ankles and the other end of the rope was thrown over a stout limb.  Then the three of them pulled on the rope.  With his back to them, he didn’t have any warning and he went down with a thud.  They kept pulling until he was suspended above the ground, his arms hanging down unable to make contact with the earth.  Then they went back to the cabin.

They hadn’t said we couldn’t talk, but none of us felt much like doing so.  My shoulders and arms were beginning to throb.  By turning my head one way, I could see the grimace on the girl’s face as the rough bark of the tree dug into her back.  The boy was twisting a little in the breeze, his erect penis pulled down by gravity pointing at his navel.

It was about a half hour later that I heard the cars coming up the road.  There were three of them and once they parked, our owners came out to greet them.  Eight guys and four girls piled out laughing and hollering.

"Do you like our welcoming display?" Master asked them.  They laughed even louder and a few of the guys slapped him on the back.  Then they all came over to us.  Four of the boys approached me and the other four went to the other girl.  The four girls went straight for the boy and began teasing his penis, slapping at it to get him to twist more.  One of the boys near me went underneath the rope holding my arm and stood behind me.  His hands came around my body and cupped my breasts, kneading them.  I tried to hold still but my body betrayed me and I pushed back my bottom toward his pelvis.

"This one is certainly hot," he laughed and everyone else joined in, even the other girls.

"Let’s get them inside so we can have some real fun," Master told them and the three of us were unbound and taken back to the cabin.

Once inside, the girls hogtied the boy with his belly on the floor.  They used one piece of rope in his mouth to pull his head back so he could see what was happening.  I thought about how his penis must be crushed underneath him.

The other girl and I were told to kneel on the floor facing each other, then I was instructed to fondle her breasts.  She looked down to the floor as I touched her but I don’t know if it was so she could watch what I was doing to her or because she was ashamed.  I glanced down at her shaved pussy to see if she was reacting to my touch and I thought I saw a drop of fluid leak out.  After a couple of more minutes, Master told me to make love to her.  I leaned forward and gently pushed her backward until she was lying down.  I leaned forward until my breasts rested on her stomach and began sucking on her nipples.  I used my tongue to tease them and felt her begin to squirm underneath me.  That was my signal to back down so that I could lick her pussy.  I put my tongue in as deeply as I could and searched for her button.  When I found it, I rubbed my tongue around it in circles.  She thrust up her hips to push me deeper inside her and began moaning with pleasure.  My face was drenched in her juices and when she came, she reached down to hold my head in place as long as possible.

Then it was my turn.  She positioned me on all fours and crawled underneath me, lifting her head up to my pussy.  Within seconds I was arching my back and pressing it back down.  Shortly after that, I climaxed with a deep and rewarding orgasm.

"Didn’t you forget something, slave?" Master asked me.

I thought desperately for a few seconds then realized that I had not asked for permission to come.  When I realized it, I lowered my head and apologized to Master.  Unfortunately for me, my apology was not accepted.  At Master’s order, I was tied standing up with my arms stretched between two poles.  Master took off his belt and I knew that I was going to feel every blow intensely because he did not want to appear weak in front of the others.

One of the boys spoke up just as he was going to strike the first blow.  "Use the belt if you wish, but I brought this if you want it.  He had taken out a cat o’ nine tails from his backpack.  There were nine leather strips attached to a wooden handle wrapped in leather.  Each strip was about three feet long.  Master took it from him and swung it a few times in the air to get the feel of it.  Whenever he swung it, the blades fanned out, creating a wider hitting area.

The first blow almost knocked the wind out of me and I gasped for air.  It was like being whipped with the belt nine times simultaneously.  He swung again and I twisted as much as my stretched out arms allowed me to as the pain wracked my body.  Three more times he struck me across the back and my bottom before he moved in front of me.

"Master, please, no more," I begged between sobs.  "I can’t take any more."

He ignored my pleas and swung the cat down and across my stomach.  One of the blades landed squarely on my teat and I thought he had ripped it off, it hurt so much.  As I screamed, I lost sight of everything but the bright light that filled my vision.  There was no one else in the cabin besides me and my pain.  I howled again and again, sometimes because of the new blows and sometimes when he hadn’t swung that cat at me.  For the last stroke, he kicked my legs apart and swung the cat upward toward my pussy from between my legs.  Most of the blades of the whip landed on my thighs and pussy, but one leather strip struck right on my slit, forcing it open and penetrating inside me.

My knees buckled and I collapsed, only being held up by the ropes attached to my wrists and the poles.  I didn’t quite lose consciousness but I could barely hear my own crying, I was that close to blacking out.

I was freed from the ties that held me and Master helped me into a bedroom.  I was tied spread-eagled on the bed and for the rest of the night people came in and used all of my holes for their pleasure.  I missed what happened to the other slaves, but I am sure that it was as demanding as the whipping I had endured.

Over and over again I was fucked in my anus and my pussy.  I ate out each of the girls several times.  Whenever someone wanted my position changed, they untied the ropes and bound me again in a different position.  Between bouts of sex, I tried to rest and actually dozed off a few times, but was soon awakened by someone who wanted to use my body for their pleasure.

The way I was being used made me see myself as an object.  My pleasure, my needs, were completely irrelevant to the people using me.  I existed as a receptacle for the boys’ penises and as a dildo for the girls.  I know that others will see that as dehumanizing, and I suppose that it was, but I also knew that I was being used the way I wanted to used, as a slave, and that I was fulfilling my own destiny.  And I did get several terrific orgasms out of the experience.

Around dawn, they all got tired and Master came in to bind my hands behind me and tie a rope around my neck and to the bedpost.  Then he got into bed with me, naked, and spooned against my back, holding me.  He nuzzled against my hair for a moment, then pulled back and went to sleep.  That moment, without any sex, was one of the most intimate I have ever experienced.  I soon drifted off to sleep with him in my dreams.

The next day, Saturday, we woke up after noon.  Master took me to the bathroom and helped me clean up.  He didn’t talk, but he was smiling at me constantly and that made me smile.  Finally, just as we were about to go back into the main room, he said he was proud of me.  I was beaming as I walked back into the living room.

Five others were up so I assumed that the rest of them were still sleeping.  The boy slave was bound painfully to one of the poles and as I watched, I saw him have a muscle spasm in his leg.  He cried out through the gag he wore, a handkerchief stuffed in his mouth and covered with duct tape.  Master freed him and went to one of the rooms to get the other slave.  The three of us were then put to work cooking breakfast for fifteen people.  We set up an assembly line in the small kitchen and made scrambled eggs, French toast, and sausage.  As we were cooking, Master was waking the others.  By the time we finished, everyone was in the main room and we served them breakfast there, loading up their plates and carrying them in.  They kept us hopping with orders for seconds or more coffee, milk, or juice.  After everyone had eaten, the scrapes were put on three plates and we were told to sit on the floor and eat.

I stuffed the food in as fast as I could, I was so hungry.  I didn’t give any thought at all to the fact that I was eating other people’s leftovers.

After we had eaten and done the dishes from breakfast, we were taken outside.  We were told to lie down and stretch out our arms and legs as far as possible.  When we did, several of the boys drove long tent pegs into the ground at our wrists and ankles and we were bound to the pegs.  Then the orgy that had ended last night when everyone was too exhausted to continue started up again.  By nine o’clock that night when they freed us, I had been used so many times I had lost count.  It was the same for the other two slaves.  Between the fifteen of them, it seemed there was always one of us being used in some way for their pleasure.  We were also whipped several times when we were found to be less than satisfying to them.  The girls were especially hard on the boy, particularly after he could no longer maintain an erection for more than a few seconds.  When we were finally freed, we were taken back to the cabin and told to clean it from top to bottom.  We worked until about eleven, when we were allowed to shower.  I was the last one out of the shower, and when I came back into the room, everyone else except my Master had left.  He had me load the bags in the back of his truck and then he told me to get in.  When he joined me, he started the truck and pulled away.

The ride back to his house was uneventful.  When we arrived, we went inside and he had me kneel in front of him while he sat in the easy chair.  Then he told me to describe everything that happened that weekend and how I felt about it.  I must have talked non-stop for about thirty minutes but the upshot of all of it was that I knew I was a slave and was very happy in that role.  We went to his bedroom where he bound me to the bed with just a rope to my collar and made love to me for a long time.  It was so different from everything that had gone on that weekend because now I was a partner with him in the lovemaking rather than a masturbatory toy for someone to use.

The next day, Sunday, was the last day of my club slavery, but I knew it would not be the last day of my slavery.  I spent the day cleaning his entire house between bouts of pinch titty and grab ass with him doing the pinching and grabbing.  About six o’clock, he told me to go shower and when I came out, he handed me the bikini that had been given to me a week ago.  It felt strange to put it on after spending most of the last three days nude and I did so reluctantly.  When I was dressed, we got in his truck and he drove us to school.  Once again I found myself on stage with the president in front of the rest of the club members.

"Is there anyone here who can testify to the lack of obedience by any of the initiates?" he asked the audience.  When they didn’t respond, he went on.  "Are these initiates accepted in the varsity club?"  The room broke into wild cheers.  When it had quieted down, he turned to us.  "Then you only have one more task to complete as slaves before you are released," he told us.  "We want the clothes back."

It was almost with a sense of relief that I untied the strings and handed him my bikini.  I was naked and collared again, as I felt that I should be.  When we were all naked on stage, the president went to each one of us and unlocked our collars and removed the chains that we had worn for the last week.  He handed each of us the chain, lock, and key, telling us that we could keep them as a souvenir of our initiation.  Then he dismissed us from the stage.  We filed down the steps and were greeted by the rest of the club members who encircled us and congratulated us.  I fought my way through the crowd to Master and handed him the chain, lock, and key.  "Master, these belong to you, as do I," I told him.  The people around him applauded as he locked the chain around my throat again and led me from the auditorium.

That summer was wonderful.  I spent all of my free time with him but after his parents returned, it was hard to do all of the things we wanted to do.  We would occasionally use the house of one of his friends when their parents were out and once we got a motel room about fifty miles away for the weekend.

It was at the beginning of August that I met him at his house and one of his friends, another lineman from the football team who had been at the cabin was there.  After I was naked, he put my chain collar on and had me kneel in front of them as they sat on the sofa.

"I leave tomorrow for college," Master said.  I knew that he had a scholarship to play football at a Division II school but hadn’t realized he would leave so soon.  I guess I had been trying not to think about what would happen when he did have to leave.  I was going to the state college about a hundred miles away.  Then he said the last thing in the world I ever expected to hear.  "Peter is going to State where you will be.  I am giving you to Peter.  He is your new Master, now."

"Master got up from the couch and went to his room.  Peter was looking at me, wondering, I think, what I would do.  It didn’t take me long to respond.

"How may your slave please you, Master?"