1 comments/ 83246 views/ 14 favorites Not So Fun Games Ch. 01 By: StoryTeller07 Feeling stupid and more than a little embarrassed, Cynthia lay in a toy box wearing nothing but manacles. It was Peter's idea to play a game in the spare room with the notion it would stimulate their marriage. It had been a surprise that he wanted to take an interest in her but one more try at saving their marriage wouldn't hurt. Her body was in good shape and something to be proud of. She was only twenty-four but dressing up in a cheerleaders outfit was, besides being an obvious request, embarrassing. When it turned into a major turn on for both of them she agreed to continue. She tried him in a fireman's uniform and enjoyed it. During her sessions she had control and that more than anything excited her. After a few such games Cynthia had to admit the sex had been fun as they took it in turns to play out fantasies. Today it was his turn. She had read something about bondage but was not ready to try anything quite so serious. Perhaps if she were the one in control she would consider it. He had performed his part at the weekend and while softened up had agreed to at least give it a try. "So long as it doesn't hurt and no marks!" she had warned him. "Look, don't worry you'll have a safe word. I promise to stop at your word," he reassured her. "Well, I guess we might as well give it a go," she conceded. Two ideas collided in her mind. You shouldn't knock it until you've tried it and having him tied up and helpless at her feet would be fun. He was sure to go easy on her and maybe find it boring, she hoped. The flood gates would be opened though, ready for her to humiliate him. After all the deal had been that anything goes in the playroom. So when it came to her turn she would have her fun at his expense. For the moment his fantasy would have to be endured. Getting into the box, then getting the manacles on had been difficult - feeling slightly ridiculous as well as helpless did nothing for her. He had insisted that she manacle herself ready for his return home from the office. It would have been easier if he had prepared her, though it did fit into his fantasy. The one she hadn't bothered to listen to. After all this effort if he simply took advantage of her when he came in she would make it even tougher on him later. He would have to excite her with something interestingly naughty to make all this effort worthwhile. Arriving home on time Peter launched into the game, which was for him to rescue her away from a gang. They had tied her up to keep as a hostage. She still wondered why she was naked but what did it matter as it was his fantasy today. Opening her mouth to complain about something he pushed a gag into her mouth. Unprepared for it she nearly choked. He would certainly pay for this indignity. Smiling inwardly she thought about some pleasurable torture to be played out on him over the weekend. A more positive thought crossed her mind - at least she wouldn't have to respond to the ridiculous fantasy dialogue now she was gagged. Attempting another complaint found that nothing intelligible was emitted form behind the gag. Talking rubbish was nothing unusual from one of his scripts. When it was her turn to play a game she would exact an unpleasant revenge on him and having nothing better to do than just lay there she had plenty of time to think of something horrible. She would choose an uncomfortable fantasy to place him under her control. 'Never mind,' she thought, 'he was sure to pay her enough attention to make a little discomfort worth while.' While sighing deeply she wondered if that was the only reason she played these games. The opportunity to humiliate and torture him was too tempting. Nothing heavy, just inflicting a little pain would be enough. Up to then the plots had not involved props, such as this box or the set of manacles, just clothing. The outfits had been silly, usually uncomfortable, and always brief. Lying there she wondered how it had gradually built to this situation where it was acceptable to let her husband bind, gag and blindfold her. It was definitely something she would not want anyone to find out about. How embarrassing would it be if her office-staff found out their finance director was into kinky sex? She had often said she was willing to try anything. It had been a joke, but her husband was using her words against her. She had to admit there had been some very steamy sex during and after these games. Playing the harem girl had led to a particularly sordid weekend. It was improving their sex life but that was all. Love was still as illusive as before. Perhaps it was time to end the marriage. At their age it wasn't too late to find the right partners. She was beautiful in a girl-next-door kind of way that produced offers, through not necessarily of marriage. Seeing the lid in his hand ready to swing shut brought her attention fully into focus. Not that she was frightened of enclosed spaces it was just that the game script hadn't called for her to be shut in. The theme for this evening was for her to be rescued by a daring stranger. She had been looking forward to a little rough and tumble while manacled. So now what? "I guess I've found the solution to our marriage problems, a solution for me anyway. I sold you to someone. He will be here soon with a van to take you away. It will be comfortable as long as you're not claustrophobic. As far as I know your not, are you?" She shook her head, and then felt stupid remembering it was just a game. This was not the script he had given her. He was supposed to rescue her and she was supposed to be so very grateful, blah and bloody blah. Pathetic, so maybe this would turn out more interesting. "You'll be taken to a nice big house in the country. I expect you'll like that. You've been working too hard this past year, so a change will do you good. More than just a vacation, more permanent, more like a life style, err, modification. That's what he said, you'll be modified." Staring through the black cloth to where he stood above her she didn't know what to say, even if she could. Hardly listening to his babble she began to drift off into her own fantasy. He couldn't accuse her of not joining in the spirit of the thing while bound and gagged. He sounded so serious and a little sad. He should be excited, as it was his game so it should have been a turn on. After all it was his day. If it turned out well they could continue all weekend. He told her, "I'll miss you. You'll have to admit there is nothing of our marriage to save, so, this is a way out. Admittedly it's a good one for me. No messy divorce. Apparently you won't mind either, after awhile." A slight smile played upon his lips, which would have chilled her if she could have seen it. Instead she merely thought he was reading, rather badly, from a script. For a moment she forgot they were playing a game. Her breasts heaved up as though reaching for him when her breathing quickened. Relax, she told herself. Perhaps it was his intention to frighten her. 'Just relax and go along with it,' she thought. "For the first few months you'll be trained. He uses some clever psychological techniques, but I didn't understand what he was saying. The important thing is you won't be hurt or care too much. I do remember him saying you'll adjust quickly as your current life becomes a distant memory in a surprisingly short time. You will live your new life as though it were quite natural. He said something like that anyway. It's some kind of thorough brain washing," Peter told her. "You will be exercised to bring your body to a peak of perfect fitness. That's something you've always wanted the time to do. Isn't it?" Nodding weakly she suddenly felt the helplessness keenly - forced to listen to this stupid story, waiting to play a part, was just so tiresome. Unable to fathom its purpose she decided to twist it to her own needs, to at least elicit some satisfaction from what seemed to becoming a very wretched evening. "Your diet will be controlled, something you could never do. I don't know how he does it but you will be a programmed slave, willing and very able. I'm sorry I know how you love details but didn't ask him much, just wanted to make sure you will be alright." "After six months you will be just as he wants you, like some kind of sex doll. It sounded like you will be a very talented doll ready to perform on demand. The way he described the new you I'd like to have a go myself." Peter spoke quietly. It was as though he were working up the courage to continue. "Oh. That reminds me. I can't see you again as it will be unsettling for you in the new life. So this is it. This is good bye." He leaned close, ready to kiss her forehead farewell, then didn't. The lid closed soundlessly finalizing the rambling speech. She had stopped listening to the murmuring idiot while twisting the story to her own satisfaction, which was probably just as well. Caught up in ideas he had evoked her mind raced with stimulating thoughts. She was aroused but unable to reach her sex so would have to patiently await his bidding. Ready for satisfaction right now it was a nuisance having to wait but she couldn't even cry out to demand his attention. He made this story seem so real her body was afire with thoughts of humiliation in the hands of a stranger. The seriousness in his voice had brought an element of fear that heightened her senses and the restraints heightened her sexual frustration. It was all brought together to tease her into uncharacteristic submission leaving her sure that whatever it was he wanted she would be enthusiastically performing tonight. Even that thought was humiliating which only served to stimulate her more. Perhaps he had found something previously hidden after all. The sound of the front door banging shut meant a visitor. Damn! Not now. Almost crying with frustration she knew a longer wait would work on the already stretched nerves increasing the sexual tension to breaking point. "Oh! Waiting!" She didn't want to wait she wanted satisfaction now! The sound of voices in their playroom stopped her struggling. She froze in hot anger. Her heart beat loudly in the small confines of the box. Snatches of muffled conversation from her husband told her he was going too far. Someone was helping him carry the box downstairs. It was against the rules to leave the sanctuary of their playroom. To involve someone else was an absolute taboo! Keeping still and quiet took a concentrated effort when she wanted to wriggle and squirm. The anger melted from her thoughts and feelings at this unexpected turn of events. Had a neighbor arrived unexpectedly for him to improvise someone into their private game? It was unlike him to improvise. Everything had to be planned in detail. 'You are a boring man!' she had often told him. He had the cheek to accuse her of being into tedious details. This was not a good idea! If they guessed kinky games were being played at number eleven the neighborhood would be awash with rumors. There would be no need to exaggerate such a bizarre spectacle. A wife falling out of a box wearing nothing but manacles would be just so embarrassing she would be unable to show her face for months to come. What a picture, it was awful. This game had gone far enough. Unable to protect herself she would be available to anyone, whoever it was that found her. This new scenario was stoking up her inner fire. Outside she could hear the sounds of nighttime. She yelled. Not a scream but a scared yell from mounting panic. In the box the sound was a muffled whimper to her ears, so outside it would not be heard at all. She managed to get a grip and calmed down. "Good!" she said. The last thing she wanted was to be found out. The fantasy of being found naked and helpless, especially by him from number fifteen, was exciting. But, it was just that. A fantasy, not something she really wanted. Being talked about could be amusing, but laughed at, that would be demeaning. No way would she want to be made into a poor, humiliated wretch. She would have to suffer his stupid game in silence. Peter stood watching the van disappear around a corner of their street. Surprised she made no protest, not even kicking the side of the box, felt like an anticlimax. She had always been so fiery it was a bit of a disappointment seeing her leave so quietly. Still, it had been one of the objectives of this outrageous plan, to have her quietly taken care of by a stranger. He met the man through the internet. When they drew up a plan of action it had seemed like another silly game until this moment, when reality set in leaving him feeling a little frightened of what the consequences might be. With the stranger's experience of that hidden world of slave trading and his personal knowledge of her, it had been fairly straightforward. Right up until the last moment he had wondered if there was still such a thing as a slave trade. It was not part of the plan to tell her why she was in the box but she hadn't complained and now it was too late. The games had been exciting but they merely served a purpose, culminating in her being conveniently packaged away for collection. It had been so simple, so far. Now he had the job of fielding questions from friends and neighbors when they missed her. That too had been planned for with the story that she had run away with a rich older man. A bit embarrassing but he could put up with it. *** In the back of the van the box was gentle rocking Cynthia to sleep despite her anger. She had told herself that the van would drive around for awhile then deposit her back home where the grinning face of her husband would be revealed on opening the box. That was when she would kick him in the balls. When it was opened she was still unconscious from the gas injected into the cramped space of the box. Lifting her limp form was a practiced art, using a hoist and sling under both arms. Lowered into another very different container she lay snoring, oblivious to the predicament developing around her. It would be a surprise for the morning. *** Slowly coming too Cynthia was bemused at her condition and where she was. It was as though she were still in a dream but on shaking her head found she was still gagged. The room was strange and in what little light there was she could see the bars of a cage. With great difficulty she crawled to the bars to find she was on the inside. It was large enough to stand in but at the moment preferred to remain on hands and knees, until her head cleared. Perhaps then she would stand and stretch her aching body. Holding onto the bars she pulled herself upright in a series of stiff movements eliciting dull throbbing pain. The gag was still in place but caution prevented her from yelling out, even though the desire to cry for help was threatening to overcome her. The manacles were gone so she could flex her arms by reaching through the bars above her head. For once she was pleased at not being so tall. When she attempted to stretch her legs a dark ache spread from between them. With both hands she grabbed herself to find a hard object between the legs - two of them. Something was protruding from in front and another from behind. Exploring herself she found a sort of plug had been fitted into her bottom. Looking down in the gloom she could see another between the legs. She felt it then pulled gently. Neither of the plugs would budge, however hard she pulled, which was not very much if she wanted to avoid pain. Thin chains dangled from them up to the bars of the cage. They were long enough for her to reach the mattress in one corner and she wondered what they were for. This was definitely not their playroom. Exploring the gag she found it was not the one Peter had placed into her mouth some time ago. How long ago was that? This gag was a plug, something like the ones between her legs. Exploring it with hesitant fingers she wondered at its complexity. Before she could come to terms with the new fittings added to her body a sound rushed into her consciousness from out of the darkness. A door was being opened admitting a draught of fresh air to brush her naked body. Each one of the fine hairs on her body bristled with fear. Who had done this to her - she was about to find out. A light flickered then shone brightly above her leaving the man standing there in shadow. The dark silhouette was tall and powerful. It spoke. "From now on you are mine and you will do as I say. Exactly as I say. Do you understand? Nod your head." The stranger's voice intoned. She stood in terrified silence unable to move. This must surely be a nightmare. Somewhere a fan started waving cool air over her body, adding cold to the fear making her shiver. The unreality of the situation had gripped her, now she gripped her body in an attempt to protect herself from the cold and his stare. "I can make your stay here worse or better," the stern voice stated. The cold breeze became a warming draught yet she continued to hug her naked body. "You are tired, thirsty and hungry. You will need to bathe, go to the toilet and sleep. All of these functions will need my permission. Think about this for awhile, until I return, then you will do as you are told," he stated. The stranger looked at her intently, although she could only tell this from his stance as the bright light still shone in her eyes leaving him in shadow. "Do you understand?" he asked. It sounded like a command rather than a question. This time she nodded. Seeing him turn to leave she started yelling. "Let me out! Don't leave me here. Bastard! Get me out!" Anger overwhelmed the fear. Frightening as the stranger was his absence was more worrying. He was right. She could do nothing without him. A feeling of being trapped and caged like an animal shoved the anger to one side. Her numb mind had explored the situation with curiosity but now she was fully awake. Anger crept up on her until she thrashed around in frustration attempting to break the chains and smash the devices attached to her body. It was no good they were some kind of hard steel, maybe even titanium. What had her husband told her? She tried to recall his parting words wishing more notice had been taken of them. If she were awake this nightmare was of his doing. Once free she would give him hell! The little everyday actions of eating and drinking, even keeping warm, were taken for granted but were now beyond her control. The elaborate cage and what looked like a dungeon was too expensive to be just set-up for her. Whatever went on here others had been subjected to the same indignity. That was a very worrying thought. She was completely dependent on this stranger for her well-being and it felt very nearly for her entire existence too. To avoid being cold, thirsty, hungry, even going to the toilet, all was impossible without him. This was surely a nightmare and she hoped to wake soon. So now she knew the purpose of the devices in each of her orifices. Why was he doing this to her. "Why me?" she tried to say. The muted whimpering escaping from behind the gag sounded pathetic to her ears. Why was she here? What was he going to do to her? She had thought her husband was merely filling her in on a scene he wanted to play but this looked serious. It was grim and very frightening. Did he really say she had been sold? The stranger said she belonged to him which seemed to confirm the ridiculous notion. She could do nothing but obey him for there was no option. She would have to do as she was told, something quit foreign to her. The questions circled around in her mind until she thought it madness; a nightmare unfolding in her mind. She was too tired, hungry and thirsty to think straight. With those bungs in her body she couldn't eat or visit the bathroom unless he undid them. On hearing the door open she braced herself for what he might want or do to her. Not So Fun Games Ch. 01 "You are thirsty and need to drink," he announced. She didn't need reminding. The thought of having the gag removed was re-assuring. She nodded her head vigorously the only means of communication available. She had already decided the only course open to her was to co-operate. They couldn't keep her long for there was work on Monday. When free the reckoning would be expensive and she meant to extract every penny. "Come close to the bars of your cage," he commanded. She hesitated then leant forward keeping as much of her body away from him as she could. She was close enough for him to remove the gag and no more. It would take some effort but resisting the need to shout and scream at him had to be controlled. He pointed a remote control at the cage and a buzzer sounded followed by an electric motor quietly humming. The chain dangling from the plug in her mouth slowly tightened, contracting toward the bars in the corner. She couldn't see clearly in the gloom but there was a metal pipe at head height in the corner where she was being pulled. Her head was being dragged toward it. Closer and closer it drew her in. She had to keep moving as it was too strong to pull away from. Standing close to the bars it slowly winched her mouth up to the pipe that had a similar fitting to the gag in her mouth. She desperately tried to pull away but it was no good fighting it. The gag in her mouth touched the pipe fitting and turned, locking her mouth piece in place. Her mewling spluttering noises sounded loud in her ears. They sounded like something a frightened little animal would squeak. A rubber pipe slid into her mouth forcing her tongue down. It went deeper making her gag as it protruded into her throat a short way. Her eyes were wide with fear, the whites clearly visible in the darkness. She felt warm liquid running down her throat directly into her stomach. In fear her stomach cramped but there was no way for it to spill the contents as more of the fluid flooded into her. It could be anything! She had no choice but stand there being force fed. "It's a nutrient rich soup," the voice explained. She tried hard to relax, to except the inevitable. It was surely a nightmare and she must wake soon. She felt better having a belly full of whatever it was. Not much, but the food was giving her strength. A different buzzer sounded. After a few seconds the same electrical motor started up. She felt an insistent tug between her legs and wailed as much as she could through the gag and rubber pipe. She was already standing close to the bars so it quickly pulled her pussy to a lower pipe. A half turn of the mechanism connected the plug in her vagina securely to the pipe. She was now firmly fixed against the bars of the cage by the two pipes at her mouth and vagina. She tried to pull away but they had screwed tight to the plugs in her body. She felt a splash of what she hoped was water down there. It seemed too much to hold but her vagina felt as though it was swelling to cope with it all. Then it was sucked out. Her vagina had been douched with warm water! She couldn't help it she had to pee. Either from fear or from holding on so long it didn't matter. It gushed from her to disappear down the pipe. Standing stock still any thoughts of defiance were washed from her mind as effectively as her vagina had been swilled. The bizarre situation had overtaken her mind and body leaving her unresisting. She had been fed and watered so what now? She felt both mechanisms turn leaving her free of the disgusting things. The chains slowly loosened but she couldn't pull away fast enough. Another buzzer sounded. The electric motor started up tugging the chain at her bottom. She groaned knowing what this meant. She had no option but turn around as it dragged her to another pipe. She felt the cold metal between her cheeks and felt it turn to fix tight onto the plug in her asshole. Guessing what was about to happen was slightly less terrifying than before. She felt a gush of warm water flood into her ass. It took a moment or two for her body to cramp then the gush of water flooded from her down the pipe. The enema was quick and efficient cleansing her bottom out and thankfully the pain subsided as quickly. The damn machine hadn't finished with her! More warm water gushed into her but this time it was partially sucked out then fresh water spurted in. It was like some dreadful wash cycle. Her ass was filled with water followed by suction producing a pushing and pulling motion in her ass. Eventually she was completely drained. The chains slowly unwound from the mechanism attached to the bars allowing her to back up to a mattress where she collapsed. Physically and mentally drained she was asleep in seconds. Not So Fun Games Ch. 02 Not so Fun Games 2 Life in a dungeon Cynthia awoke dismally aware of her surroundings, not wanting to accept this wasn't a nightmare. Her eyes focused on the bars of the cage; they were terribly real. She didn't need to touch them to feel the nasty fittings in her body were still there. Her natural bodily functions were under the strangers control meaning her body was going to be used against her. "No!" she screamed through the gag. "Let me go! Let me out of this damn cage!" There was no-one there to hear the muffled tantrum. She kicked the tiled floor not feeling the pain. Rather, it served to calm the fear fuelled anger. Well, so be it. She had already concluded the only means of survival was to obey - so that is exactly what she would do. He may control her body but her mind was free and she would let him know when he dared to face her. This elaborate dungeon was not set-up for fun and games and it looked as though she would be here for some time. To survive this nightmare there was little choice left. She would have to accept and adapt to the situation until, well. "Just think of one day at a time,' she sighed. She told herself to pay attention to what he said and obey quickly. She scratched a line on the wall hoping it would help keep track of time. Looking at it she worried this was a sign of acceptance, that she was a prisoner with little chance of an early release. Lying awake she snuggled into the soft bedding that resembled a ball of fluff from a Hamsters cage. She was completely buried in the rags that were a small comfort. A buzzer sounded and she lifted her head. The whir of an electric motor started and she jumped up. A chain began to pull at her mouth so she stumbled to the corner anticipating the dreadful machines action. He wasn't there! 'It must be on a timer,' she thought. It was the damn machine working her like a puppet. As the plug in her mouth tightened upon the pipe she recognised what was happening. This was to be her breakfast. Knowing what to expect this time it was a little easier taking the rubber pipe into her throat. The rest of the routine was less traumatic than yesterday. The enema was less thorough too. Perhaps he thought she had been cleaned out enough. Cynthia wanted to cry but wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking down. **** He arrived after the morning feed and watering. She tried to stand straight before him as a sign of defiance. 'I'm here and fighting back,' the stance was meant to imply. "Down on your knees," he said. A cold blast of air made her shiver but she stood straight. Chains tightened without warning. Irresistibly they forced her to the ground. She looked up at him from the floor then hung her head. It was futile to resist. Her body was his. When he told her to squat on the floor she did. When she obeyed quickly the floor tiles were heated for the rest of the session. Again and again she was put through a series of exercises designed to stretch the body into more flexible positions. During the day, between feeding times, the stranger arrived unexpectedly forcing her to repeat the moves. Eventually he seemed satisfied she had achieved them to specification, but there was no let up. As during the feeding times he was absent when a buzzer sounded for her to perform like a monkey in its cage. She was even thinking of it as her cage, where she belonged, her home. A different buzzer announced each move to be performed. Before the chains could pull her into it she quickly responded. She had learnt this to avoid a cold breeze and gain the small reward of warm tiles. If she performed well a shower became available in a corner of the cage. At first it had been galling to be controlled by a machine but after awhile she gave in to the inevitable. At least she gained more comfort from obeying quickly with warmth, better tasting soup and small items such as soap. The shower was an immense pleasure when denied so much. A liquid diet thinned her and the relentless regime of exercise tuned her body. She had become fit with a flexible lean body. By the second week she realised how low she had sunk. The plug in her pussy had opened and she was poised over a dildo on the floor. She lowered herself until its bulbous head pierced her sex. When he gave permission she pushed down upon the disgusting thing until it penetrated her sex deeply. Without becoming excited she worked at it pushing and pulling until permission was given to extract it. A buzzer would sound and she pressed her breasts into rubber cups attached to the bars of the cage. There was no choice but stand there with her breasts stuck in the cups while they pulled at her breasts flexing them. For what seemed a long time they sucked and released and sucked her breasts over again. At the end of the cycle the machine powerfully pulled at her nipples, elongating them for along time before letting her go. At first she thought it was meant to pleasure her, though it never could. Soon she realised with dismay what its purpose was. Gently holding her tender orbs in both hands she sobbed silently. The rest of her body was obviously under his control. The exercises were designed to allow her to stretch her body into lewd poses. This awful revelation on top of everything else was too much to bear. She continued to sob at the realisation of how much her body was being reshaped and for why. Her breasts were being plumped up by that damn machine of his. Her nipples were being stretched and made more sensitive. It was difficult to tell but after only two weeks of regular treatment they were already a size larger. She sat quietly in her nest thinking over what other diabolical transformations to her body were being carried out. "The feeder!" she cried in astonishment. She had choked on the rubber tube being pushed a little way into her throat. She thought it was used to force feed her. There was no need for without solids she was always hungry and would lap up the liquids greedily. She hadn't noticed it pushing deeper into her throat every day. Now she could swallow it much deeper with ease. With the choke reaction suppressed she would be able to take a penis right down her throat! That despicable dildo was obviously a training device, she had known that. She had been strengthening inner muscles on it for a man's penis! What hadn't been obvious was the plug in her anus. She was sure of it now. It had been expanding, only slightly, but it was growing larger. Her little virgin asshole was being opened up for a man. The weeks progressed until routine allowed her to accept these indignities. Cynthia hardly noticed he was absent when a serried of buzzers put her though the intimate exercises. Like an automaton she worked through them, performing like a well trained animal in its cage. Each day there was a different timing to the workout. It meant listening attentively to the buzzer for failure to respond was punished. The active day had been shortened too, so she was sleeping and waking at strange hours. Without light or a clock it was difficult to tell the passing of time so she thought four days had elapsed in every two. Embarrassment from nakedness had disappeared the first day when ideals of privacy had been quickly overtaken by the desire to survive. Gaining small rewards of comfort taught her to obey commands promptly, however demeaning they were. She lost all inhibitions replacing them with a desire to please. This state of thinking benefited her progress bringing further rewards, which in turn encouraged her descent into a yielding submissive. After a particularly grueling session she had been rewarded with a shower, soap and shampoo. "Utter bliss!" She would have written this up as a red-letter day in a diary – if she were allowed one. When displeased with her performance she would be sent to stand in the corner or denied food, heat and light. To her surprise it hurt her pride to suffer these small indignities to such an extent she avoided them by putting more effort into the exercises. Even though she understood it was helping him train her mind she couldn't avoid pushing herself into performing the degrading tricks to please him. Avoiding the slightest reprimand and gaining the smallest reward, had crushed her into submission. Thinking many more days had passed than actually had, she gave up hope. The small rewards had her performing with enthusiasm. When the cage door finally opened she wondered what tricks she would have to perform to retain this small token of freedom. Whatever it was she would try her very best to satisfy his demands. Out of the cage she hesitantly stepped. It was clear the movement would be limited as a thin chain connected the plug in her bottom to the cage. Every movement produced a small clink, which she had grown used to; no longer aware of it. It was fascinating and frightening being out of the cage. Highly charged feelings of fear and elation charged around in her mind producing physical effects too. A shiver shook her body, as though cold, then a light sweat moistened her skin. It was difficult to balance the few steps she was allowed to take. With great care she promptly obeyed his commands to sit or stand as ordered. Just a word or a gesture would have her down on her knees with head bent in submission. Sitting back on her haunches with knees splayed outward she was proud over how far she could spread them. Becoming familiar with the large cavernous room and its contents served to anticipate what might be used on her next. There were nipple clamps of varying pain inducing shape but not one had been used upon her breasts, so far! In fact none of the devices designed to administer pain had been used though there was always the threat of something, always something unsettling in the background that pushed her into an acquiescent state. A keypad on the wall next to the door had her interest. If the door could be opened, what then, could she escape? Where would she go? Not back to her husband. Both parents had gone and she was an only child. The only relatives were distant and neglected. By now colleagues would have forgotten her. The door began to open so she darted back to stand by the cage, her cage. "Get ready for the dildo," he commanded. She squatted over it taking deep breaths trying to relax. "Take it," he said. Cynthia plunged down upon it taking it all in. Settling into a rhythm she used powerful muscles to ride it, letting it take her. There was no attempt to regain control of her body which was moving inextricably toward an orgasm. Eventually she gave in to it completely lying in a heap on the floor twitching and moaning until the miserable climax let go, letting her regain some control over her body. It had promised to be a major event but when she arrived it was nothing compared to the journey. Her master was pleased though and that is all that mattered. All the time here she was naked and at his complete mercy but there had never ever been a sexual approach, not even a naughty innuendo. So what was he doing with her? Why was she here? Now released from the cage these questions faded from her mind. She had at last accepted the dungeon as her place. However uncomfortable an environment it was, however difficult a situation became, a human being can adapt to survive. She told herself this whenever thoughts threatened to overwhelm her. It seemed that every moment was a challenged, sometimes with unpleasant tasks, though most she had simply become used to. An ordinary lunchtime meal was uncovered on a trolley by the master. Its ordinariness, in the dungeon atmosphere, made it an extraordinary display. The smell was delicious after subsisting on liquids for so long. "Over here," He commanded, beckoning her with a crooked finger. Meekly she padded over to him all the time straining to catch the next gesture that would have to be responded to. She forced herself not to look at the food. He touched the control held in one hand and she felt the chains attached to her wrists contract into the harness belt, pulling them tight against her waist. Whatever was to happen next would be accomplished without the use of her hands or arms. "This may be too much for you just yet but a taste will not harm your digestion," he told her, referring to the meal. By now she recognised anything he said as being a command. A slight movement of his hand was all that was needed for her to kneel on the floor with head bowed as a well rehearsed response. Lifting her chin he said. "Very well done, slave moved into position with well controlled movements." Her head reeled deliriously with pleasure at the compliment. He smiled at her. Holding her chin he looked close into her eyes demanding her full attention. He said, "If you have a question you must say 'Please Master.' Nothing more," he reminded her. She nodded as she had learnt to, keeping quiet as expected like a good little pet. With a jaw stiff from being held open she was unable to close her mouth so there she knelt looking up at him with mouth wide open. With an easy natural action he slipped his cock into her mouth. This was new and unexpected but she simply accepted it like everything else, without protest. Controlling her breathing she sucked his cock down her throat moving her head in a rhythm toward his crotch and back along its length. She knew what to do having recently practised on dildos. Cynthia was so proud to be used like this she was in danger of losing concentration. She reminded herself to focus on his needs. The whole length of his cock was swallowed. With delicious sucking noises she repeated the movement again and again until he came in salty splashes against the back of her throat. It was yet another liquid meal but despite the small portion she felt hugely satisfied. She stuck out her tongue to wait for his approval. He nodded with a smile and she gulped it down greedily with magnificent exaggeration. The meal had been forgotten for she was still marvelling at having a sexual encounter with him. Her master had used her mouth! She was so pleased she shook her ass as though it had a tail. "Very good, pet, congratulations. You have studied well and have graduated. It's time you stepped into your new life. First though you need to learn how to eat again," he told her. The look in her eyes revealed fear, fear of the unknown. He smiled reassuringly and distracted her with a spoon of mashed potato. He spoon-fed her from his plate with a sample of each dish, smothering it in delicious gravy. "That's enough or you will suffer later on. This evening a little more until completely fit. When you are ready, perhaps a celebratory banquet would be in order," he laughed. She felt elated with enthusiasm for what ever the next stage in her development might be. It was as though she had been ill and he was teaching her to function normally again. No details had been revealed so she relaxed thinking it would be just another lesson for her to learn. The meal had been used as a persuasion to submit but again it only needed to reinforce an already inbuilt desire to obey. He helped her to her feet, released her hands, and she stood by him while he finished the meal. Her main task was to keep his wine glass filled. Submitting to such a menial role reminded her yet again of her subservient position. Clearing the table gave her a chance to think of this new world about to open up to her. A whole new set of actions had been demanded of her and after the past few days of simple obedience to a machine, as it demanded her to sit or squat or stand still, it all seemed very exciting. A sort of normality would be creeping back in to her life. Not the sort of life she once had but that seemed such a long way in the past. It was a past existence that was diminishing rapidly into a distant memory. Keen to continue this wonderful trend toward a sort of usefulness, she smiled and simpered to his every whim, keen to keep his interest like a puppy. After an afternoon of exercises two meals were wheeled in and this time she was allowed to prepare the table. A hamburger with onions on a hot plate still sizzled. She slavered at the aroma of it. Although distracted by the food she had to concentrate on laying the table while at the same time keeping an eye out for the next command. She almost anticipated the signal to drop to her knees. Since the gag had been removed her mouth was now fully mobile but she kept it wide open. Able to more fully enwrap and grip her master's penis she hoped to give more satisfaction this time. Trying not to hurry she finished, or rather he finished in her. So now the meal could start. Luckily she waited for his command before seating herself at the table, which again was a simple hand movement. She ate a small plate full then stood to serve him. Passing a napkin she again stood close ready to serve condiments and keep his wine glass full. Occasionally he would stroke her bare bottom which excited her more than having him in her mouth. Once he brushed a finger over the lips of her pussy. She nearly gasped out loud but luckily controlled herself. She felt her pussy opening up to him, her lips wet and ready. This new trick of serving him with her body then again serving him at the dinning table she readily learnt with the special incentive of a normal meal. It did not occur to her that she thought of this basement chamber and the cage as home. That she responded to him as her master seemed natural. That he was training her felt normal, as she settled into a routine no longer questioning the circumstances. It was a full day of exercises, learning new tricks, and still practicing the old ones. She had to slip a butt plug into her bottom to keep it stretched and wondered when her master might use her there. He still hadn't used her pussy and she ached to have him. She still wore nothing but a collar with a leash attached but without the mechanical plugs in her body felt free as a bird. The steel collar was secured in place at the back and she had to take special care to keep it clean. It was an important symbol of her servitude; of being a slave. The lock didn't have a key as once the prongs had been slotted into place there was no way of pulling them apart. It was permanently fixed in place, permanently fixing her in place as a slave. This permanence gave her a sense of well being. Her place in the order of things would be unchangeable. She could relax without expending wasteful energy on ambition for there would be no change to her position in life. She was a slave ready to obey. Her master surprised her by announcing. "You will follow me. You are ready to be introduced into your new life. Tomorrow, well, we will see," he said. Expecting a signal from him he instead told her one more unexpected thing. "First you will have to have a name," he told her with a smile. "For the time being your name is Cock-hole. All you have to do is remember you are my slave, but remember this well," he emphasised by taking her chin in his hand and making her look into his eyes. She quickly looked down at the floor when he let go. He asked her. "Tell me your name." Blinking back salty tears she concentrated on speaking clearly. "My name is Cock-hole, Master." This was particularly hard to say after gaining some self-worth when told she was to leave the basement with her master. Being reminded in this way of her role in life was unnecessarily cruel. She knew what she was. She was nothing more than a sex object. Recognising this lowly position meant she had to rein back all feelings, so as to become nothing more than the name implied. 'Cock-hole', she repeated to herself silently. With just a moment's hesitation, that would have earned a punishment if she were not behind him out of sight, she quickly moved to be directly behind him at the door. Not So Fun Games Ch. 02 Examining everything with eyes full of wonder she followed him up the stone steps. It must be an old house. When she stepped through the door she rapidly blinked her eyes from the brightness of a new day. The house was impressive. After the dungeon it was like stepping into another world. They were in a large kitchen with a cold stone floor, which kept her attention for she wore no shoes, or anything else. With head bowed in respect of her master she followed him. No mistake was going to be committed now for she would be on her best behaviour, observing every command, jumping to obey his every word. Still naked she roamed the house close behind paying close attention to his every movement, desperate not to miss a command. They reached the library where she was commanded with a slight movement of his had to sand still. Snatching a glimpse of furnishings and paintings as they walked along corridors she was impressed with the sheer luxury of her master's home. It wasn't possible to gather a clue as to where they were as blinds shuttered the windows. Standing close she waited for the slightest sign of a command, or for a word, to fetch and carry. Whatever he wanted she would comply with. It never occurred to her that just a few months ago it would have been impossible to stand waiting patiently for someone, let alone be ready to obey their commands. To be naked in a stranger's home would have been a nightmare, where now it was simply an accepted state of being. Occasionally he would stroke her between the legs or look up at her to smile and pinch a nipple. His presence gave her comfort. Where she stood it seemed there was a small circle of pleasant safety. When he shuffled the papers he had been studying and put them aside she became nervous. "To the middle of the room," he commanded. He gave the signal, a flat hand with raised fingertips. He watched her prostrate herself on the Persian rug. In the study she practiced the usual positions until he seemed satisfied. She simply practiced being still, with head bowed, while he sat reading a daily paper. She felt his eyes looking her over and hoped he was pleased with her. "Fetch coffee," he said. In a panic she fled back to the kitchen to search for what was needed. At first she was in a quandary as to how he took his coffee and felt sick with worry over what to do. She found a silver tray and loaded it with a coffee pot, sugar, milk and cream. He looked at the tray and nodded with a smile. Her heart sung with pleasure. She watched carefully knowing it was her place to learn his habits and anticipate them. So now she knew he took cream but no sugar. The last trainee had left his care and so this one would look after his home until the next one was trained ready to take her place. He took his Cock-hole up the back stairs to the servants' quarters. "This is your room. Take a shower and be quick," he said. He watched her soap her body. He wondered if she wanted to luxuriate in the hot water but he was impatient to get her settled. She towelled her body dry and stepped back into the room. She stood correctly with hands to the side, head bowed and legs apart. "Open the wardrobe," he said casually. He watched her reaction on seeing so many clothes. "Patience Cock-hole. Try them on, every one of them," He said. Sitting back in an easy chair he watched her struggle with the decision of which was to be first. Her face was a picture of delight like a little girl finding parcels below a Christmas tree. They had been purchased for her new slim body. All were unusual in design as they revealed her body rather than covering it. A short skirt with leggings split at the crotch. A long dress without sides kept together by four thin belts was a particularly favourite. "Quickly now, don't dawdle," he warned her. A fiery red corset gripped her thin waist pushing up her breasts looked particularly sensual with stockings emphasising a pair of long slim legs. Her breasts had been mechanically massaged regularly to ensure they didn't shrink away with the rest of her weight. They looked impressive over the trim waist. In the tight corset it looked as though she might tumble forward. Some of the outfits were daring, others lewd. A pair of rubber panties held a pair of dildos that had to be fitted into her body to get them on. Eventually everything had been tried on. "You look stunning, in that dress," he remarked. It was a long black silk dress formed to fit her body like a sheath. Nothing underneath could be worn and it clearly showed. "My slaves remain natural, so put it away," he told her. Facing the wardrobe she allowed a show of feelings to tarnish her face. He had referred to her as one of his slaves. Was she not special? Not the only one? It hurt but she pulled her features back to neutral on turning round. Another cupboard was opened to reveal make-up. Every colour, every shade every substance that could be thought of was there. "You will not remain her tonight," he told her. A look of disappointment at this cruel turn of events couldn't be held back. It clouded her features with brows frowning and a sob very nearly erupted. How could master show her these delights then deny them? "You will stay with me tonight," he said smoothly. He watched her face break into a moment of joy then shut down into a neutral expression as trained. Able to respond in only one way, she said all she could, "Yes, Master." Her mind was racing. Was she at last able to pleasure the wonderful master with her sex? One thing was for sure, she was there to present her body for his use. Not So Fun Games Ch. 03 Not So Fun Games Ch. 03 Fully trained to obey For once she was pleasured rather than being simply taken, and the satisfaction he gained from her body added to her enjoyment. It was a wonderful night. She awoke early waiting for her Master to stir. Tethered to the end of the bed, she rested her chin on the edge, gazing up at him in admiration. If her husband could see her now, he would be amazed, though she didn't give a single thought to that previous existence. "From now on, you will sleep upstairs; and all your duties will be carried out up there," her Master said. She felt elated to be promoted out of the dungeon, and was so grateful for the news she wanted to cry. Holding back the tears was difficult. Eventually they welled up, to drop to the floor between her bare feet. It was a familiar view, from habitually examining the floor, with head bowed before the Master. That morning she carried a small bundle of clothes from the basement, to a small closet in a small room at the top of the house. The leap up in status was dizzying. Having clothes was delightful; although so far she was not permitted to wear them. She hoped to gain permission after achieving the next step in her training – whatever that might be. While a household-slave took care of the domestic duties, she kept to her room, busy practicing slave positions. She stretched her body to the limit, always trying to gain another inch, or keep the pose for an extra minute or two. The way she could stretch her legs out sideways and slightly back, with knees straight, was marvellous. Her Master would be very pleased with the pose next time it was demonstrated. Once the exercise regime was completed, the next part of the training program needed to be started. The program was designed to keep her busy, and to shape both her mind and body. She pulled the training corset another notch tighter around her waist. "Yes!" she hissed. There was little breath to spare to express her joy. She had to calm down or faint. Pulling in shallow breaths, she at last began to lose the light headedness. As Master ordered, she had brought her waist down to eighteen inches. It was a struggle in the training corset, but given time, and it would become her normal size. With slow deliberate steps, she walked to a machine that had been brought up from the cellar. She couldn't sit, so stood before it, and fitted her breasts into the device. She switched it on and laid both arms over the top of it. It was like having a mammogram, only less painful. A hissing of air announced it was working. She felt it sucking her breasts into deep cups. Her nipples were pulled tight, into smaller, inner cups. They were like thimbles and fitted snugly over the nipples. The vacuum pulled them in, sucking on them, then relaxed a little. Again her nipples were pulled. The same was happening with the larger cups, sucking hard, then easing up on her breasts. The sucking became stronger on the nipples, and breasts. She knew what this exercise was for. While in the cage, her breasts had been exercised several times a day. They were now much larger than when she arrived. She was proud to show them off, especially as her Master had made them. Six times a day, she used the machine in her room to improve them. Above the slim waist, they looked huge! When her nipples were engorged, they too looked enormous. She wondered when they would be big enough, as they were already heavy. The exercises would have to be kept up to keep them firm, and standing proud. They started to ache as usual. When the nipples were hurting, that was the time to stop. Stepping away from the machine, she admired herself in the mirror. She now had a completely different shape. With both small hands around her waist, she could almost touch fingertips! Even with both hands, she couldn't cover a breast, and they were still growing. The nipples were so long and fat after the work out, they looked as though they had been inflated by a pump. They grew as big when aroused. When Master sucked on them, they became supersensitive. So much so, it did something to her cunt. Her cunt and crotch were completely hairless. She no longer needed to shave as the follicles had been removed. It had been painful, though she hadn't complained. She was proud to wear a slave number tattoo just above her pussy lips. It was a permanent reminder of what she had become. The lips too had been changed. They had been slightly stretched and plumped up. It looked as though she were permanently aroused, which wasn't far from the truth! She hoped Master would call a halt to these body changes, as she feared she was beginning to look ridiculous. With blonde hair, she looked like a Barbie doll. Remembering the conversation of last night she wondered if she was to become a sex-doll? The door opened unexpectedly; and her Master said, "Put on the maid's dress – you are to serve my guests at dinner. No make-up. All the trimmings for the outfit," he ordered, and was quickly gone. The suddenness of his presence was as though it were in her imagination. It wasn't an hallucination from boredom, he really had summoned her. A crash muffled by distance from the dining room, brought her around. In a panic she scrambled up off the floor to get dressed. She must not keep her Master waiting. It was just a dinner party for his friends; though for her, it was an exceptional event – her first exposure to strangers as a slave. The obedience training would be tested this evening, as she was to be a maid-slave. The black dress was carefully pulled over her hair, and smoothed down over the tight corset. The corset pushed her breasts up into a deep impressive cleavage, shown off exquisitely by the low cut dress. A white apron, cap, cuffs, and black high heels were in place – so she was ready. To check the stocking seams were straight, she lifted the short hem of the dress and adjusted the tight straps holding them up. It was obvious she didn't wear panties; but this was another habit well instilled into any slave. She was used to being naked; and upon receiving instructions to wear clothes, she hadn't given a thought to underwear. In the dinning room, everything had been laid out by the household-slaves. Her Master carefully examined her and nodded his approval. She beamed a great big smile, though no one could see it with head bowed, looking straight down at the shiny black heels. "Tonight you will serve my friends. Your Master expects his slave to obey. Whatever happens, a slave must obey. Is that clear?" he demanded. "Yes, Master," she answered, which is all she could say. A shiver of fear at being in the presence of others was hard to suppress, but she had been well-disciplined. Well enough not to question her Master, and certainly not to contemplate a refusal. What would be expected of her in front of strangers, she tried not to imagine. Rather, it would be better to calmly collect her thoughts toward serving them. *** Only a few weeks ago, she had been furious with her husband for sending her into this place, and to this man for torturous training. Thoughts turned to worrying how long it would take to shake off this training once home? How would she cope in the office if she were still behaving subservient to the male staff? It might not even be possible to leave the house once home, as she would be in danger of simply kowtowing to the first man who spoke to her. The image of herself on hands and knees in the local supermarket made her shiver in fear. Over weeks of training, the recent past, of even being married, all became a distant dream, as though it were someone else's life. It had been sometime since the hope of returning home had dwindled to nothing, until even the idea of being a free woman had faded to an unimportant distant memory. *** Now that the training was complete three buyers were interested in the slave. One owned a brothel, while another wanted an obedient sex-slave to comfort him in his old age. The third was a pornographer, wanting a compliant model – though it looked as if he couldn't afford the price. It was a difficult decision to make, as the first two had reached the target price, and even the pornographer had been close. It was a risk holding an open auction; but that might well be the best way to determine her worth. The risk was that an outsider might infiltrate the tight circle of people who kept slaves. The very rich or slave dealers would be invited; but a mistake would bring them to the notice of the media, and inevitably the law. The spectacle of such an event was exciting, and could incite a bidding war between men who just had to have her. Others would bring slaves they had trained and wanted to sell after becoming bored with them. This evening, he intended to sound out his friends on how well she had developed. It had been a long time since they had met face-to-face; and it could easily become an auction among just the three of them. *** Shaking with nerves, she walked into the dining room, all the time working hard to keep her feelings under control, so as to serve Master with perfection before his friends. She felt the slightest mistake would let him down. The dress was loosely flared out from high up over the hips, where the hem floated delicately over stiff petticoats to reveal stocking tops. The lightness of the material meant it swirled up around her waist with every movement, showing off her bottom. A slight wobble in the high heels almost let her down, but not a drop of the aperitif was spilt; and more importantly, no one seemed to notice. They were deep in conversation, probably discussing business. "She certainly has a magical look, Rob," Nathaniel said, while appraising the maid. All three of the men stopped to look at her as she bent to place the drinks before them. Even that slight movement revealed hard muscular cheeks with a deep separation that exposed all. "I can just imagine the pleading look in her eyes looking out from a mask as she receives punishment," Mathew added. Robert smiled with satisfaction at their admiration of his work. "There has been no need to punish her with the whip as you would Mathew. She wasn't a natural submissive, but the training has her completely subservient. She is completely trained to obey; which means it's time to find a buyer," Robert said. They both chuckled at the remark, knowing he was always concerned with matching a slave with the right Master. "It's your technique Rob. You are so thorough they always complete the training as compliant slaves, without a trace of that fighting spirit I happen to like so much," Mathew said. Nathaniel saw right through Matthew. He was trying to talk down the price. "That's what buyers want – a perfectly submissive and obedient slave. It is very presentable, don't you think?" Robert asked. They again looked over the compliant slave Robert had produced, which made her blush crimson. "Let's have a look at her then," Mathew demanded. They could see almost everything under the flimsy dress, but this only whetted their appetite for more. "Cock-hole!," Robert said, to gain her attention, "Remove the dress." Without hesitation, she pulled the tight garment over her head in a provocative pose that lifted her breasts for them to admire. The quick response to his command confirmed how thoroughly she had submitted to the training. The friends had examined many attractive women at Robert's house, who were either guest slaves or trainees; but this was an exceptional beauty! "I see you have trained her body as well as her mind," Nathaniel commented. His tone of voice confirmed an admiration for the heavy pair of breasts. They pointed out above a slight waist emphasising the large bosom, making her look decidedly top heavy. The high heels lengthened her legs, as did the black seamed stockings, held by suspenders, tightly wrapping a pair of long shapely legs. Apart from these three items of clothing, she was completely naked; yet this state affected her not in the slightest. Rather than hide her nakedness, she revelled in the compliments – even the slightly indelicate ones. Their approving comments on her body as they slowly roamed it with their eyes left her feeling light headed which she absorbed as pure pleasure. The credit her Master received for her body and mind was pleasing. Delighted that they were complimenting his work, it was easy to accept she had become an object of admiration. As an object, she was there to be admired and used, as her name suggested. Nathaniel broke the silence, "I particularly like the large mound between her legs, as it bulges out so much, as though it is begging for attention. It seems to be growing larger as we look at it," he laughed. He was stating the obvious as usual, to which they chuckled. Unsure if the reaction between her legs was allowed, she felt at risk of a punishment; and that would be hard to take in front of these strangers. Letting down her Master would be devastating. Looking at Robert, Mathew asked, "May I have a closer look?" Receiving a nod from her Master, she walked over to stand close to Mathew. With a shudder, it occurred to her what he meant by a closer look. She felt his hand close upon her sex, cupping her down there. "She is very wet Rob. Do you allow your slaves to respond to all and sundry?" Mathew asked, while rubbing her nub roughly. As she opened up, his fingers probed until he was exploring her sex. With great effort, she attempted to maintain self-control. That she was being sexually abused before strangers should have turned her off; but her body was responding with no chance of holding back. She had been trained to respond; so there was little choice. She dare not look at her Master for fear of his being angry at her wanton behaviour, yet it was only he that could save her from this man pushing her towards a climax. Closing her eyes, she swayed with the rhythm of fingers exploring and rubbing, idly playing her like some musical instrument, while the two other strangers looked on. He was demonstrating his skill to his friends, boasting how easily he could play her. "You said she hadn't been trained as a slut. It looks as though she's a natural. What are you slave?," Mathew asked. Their conversation was just a blur in her ears so there would be no answer until she was released from his control. He answered for her, whispering loudly in her ear, "You're a natural slut, Cock-hole." At that moment, she was brought back to the reality of being in a room of strangers as a finger entered her bottom! It did not seem much of anything, as this hole had been stretched for a larger appendage. Nevertheless, it was a shock being fingered by a stranger among Master's guests. With a thumb massaging her clitoris, she was again under his control, sending her on a mission to ecstasy. Each time she neared the destination she groaned, as he brought her a little way back with a sharp pinch of pain. Then off again as he would send her a little further on the journey to nirvana. She had been a respectable married woman, responsible for an important department in a multinational corporation. Now she was naked in front of strangers, being played with like a lewd sex toy. Her significance in life had been reduced from being a free woman – to a man's plaything – a willing sex slave. All the rights of an individual had been rested from her, leaving nothing more than a simple object of pleasure. Being an object meant all responsibility for her actions were negated, leaving her to merely mind the instructions of a Master, which she had learned to do well. As had happened so many times recently, she let herself go. Returning to the Master she stood at his side still breathing heavily. Feeling abused and humiliated had become a part of this new life, and it always left her feeling aroused, even after an orgasm. Alerted to what they might say, or do to her next, she paid more attention to their conversation. "At the moment, the slave is not trained for a particular purpose. It is just a simple slave, prepared to please a master in whatever way he wishes," Robert stated. He patted her bottom playfully, eliciting a coy look of pleasure. "When I have a buyer, she'll be trained more thoroughly in a particular role, depending on his requirements," he explained. "It all depends on her next owner. She might be a cock-slave, a sex-doll slave, a common slut-slave, or an expensive whore-slave. Then, rather than stand there awkwardly receiving admiration, she would learn to respond appropriately," he said, while stroking her bare ass. "As a sex doll she would be demure, ineffectively attempting to cover her nakedness. A cock slave would be readying herself to pleasure someone with the orifice of his choice. As a slut, she would be actively flirting with whomever a Master wanted," he said. The others knew this already; but he wanted to see her reaction. "A whore-slave would actually solicit a man. Of course, only at an owner's command. Any of these behaviours can be instilled into a trained slave," he told the others, while stroking her thighs. She looked outwardly calm in contrast to how she felt inside. The Master said she would be sold off to another! She couldn't imagine obeying someone else! She would have to learn how to please a new master. More than that, she did not want to leave her wonderful Lord and Master. He had molded her to suit his requirements, or so she had thought. It now turned out she had been trained to become ready for a stranger! Could he really turn her into a whore-slave? Tears formed in her eyes, but did not fall, as she resolved not to let him down before guests. In the kitchen, she deftly wiped away the tears, ready to return to her duties. Perhaps it was merely Master talk; and she would remain where she belonged. It did not occur to her that some time ago, she had started thinking of herself as a permanent slave. It had been a subtle change over the weeks of training; until it left her feeling comfortable with the idea of being a slave forever. She had accepted that she was just an object and her Master owned her; and therefore, he could do what he liked with her. She would have to accept this was his decision, to sell or keep her – whatever he wanted to do.