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Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 01

By: sarpedom



The van didn’t have license plates, and in retrospect they should have noticed it.  Kristin and Megan were too engrossed in their conversation, though, and what would have been just two girls walking from their neighborhood to the store turned into something entirely different.
It was one of those lovely June days in the summer between the two girls’ last year of high school and what was supposed to be their first year of college.  They had grown up and gone to school together since they were ten, but for the last few years Kristin had been even more conscious of being in her friend’s shadow.
It wasn’t that Megan wasn’t a good friend, and she didn’t even seem to be aware of the effect she had on Kristin.  It was just that everything she did had the effect of making Kristin conscious of her shortcomings.  Being self-conscious and shy was one way in which Kristin felt she didn’t measure up to her outgoing and vivacious friend, who never seemed to be at a loss for words or out of her depth in social situations.  It didn’t help that Megan was a tall and radiant blond, whereas Kristin, barely taller than five feet and one of the few black girls in their wealthy suburban school, didn’t feel the same amount of male attention.  Even though Kristin had developed curves and gone through puberty earlier, Megan was the one who’d had boyfriends from the age of fourteen, where Kristin had never seriously dated or had sex with anyone.
Kristin was very attractive, though between her shyness and the fact that she had been somewhat chubby in her early teens, she wasn’t aware of it.  Her baby fat was mostly gone now and her butt and breasts would have been the envy of many girls.  Her legs were quite long for how petite her body was and her waist and thighs were narrow.  While her face wasn’t as striking as Megan’s All-American cheerleader look, she was quite pretty in a girl next door sort of way.  While she thought men ignored her, she in fact drew the attention of quite a few, though her shyness made many of her classmates feel she was unapproachable.  Her skin tone was medium-dark and her hair hard to do anything with other than keep medium-length and iron-straight.
Megan, on the other hand, was tall, blue-eyed, naturally blond, and slender, with average-sized breasts and hips.  Her sparkling smile and cheery demeanor were much more a part of her appeal than any of her physical features, though.  As usual, she dominated the conversation with her talk of what sororities she planned to rush and what classes she would take when she went off to college.  In addition to being beautiful and popular, Megan had always enjoyed academic success and had received a full ride scholarship to a premedical program in a prestigious school a few states away, not that her doctor parents couldn’t have paid for her tuition anywhere.  While Kristin had always been a good student, she was attending the state college only a couple hours away from home, and with her parents being mid-level school district employees, fully expected to have to take out student loans to do it.
Despite her self-consciousness, Kristin enjoyed being with Megan.  Megan really did like Kristin, though she wasn’t always much help talking about boys and the like.  Still, her talkativeness complemented Kristin’s shier demeanor well, and Kristin was a good listener and couldn’t help but be buoyed a bit by Megan’s perpetual high spirits.  The day was beautiful, the sun was shining, the robins were chirping, the cul-de-sacs smelled like cut grass, and life for both girls was pretty good.
And so it was, absorbed in conversation, that they didn’t notice the windowless blue van with the logo of a plumbing supply company on its side pull out of its parking spot behind them and up to the stop sign at the nearest intersection.  As they walked alongside it, they did notice a man leaning out the passenger side window.
“Excuse me, girls, but can you tell us how to get to Shady Pines Road from here?”
The man was in his forties, had salt and pepper hair, and looked like a guy driving in a plumbing van ought to look, so the girls didn’t think anything of it.  As usual, Megan stepped forward and was the first to speak.
“I think that’s over in Fairview --”
She was cut short by Kristin’s stifled scream.  A short dark man with a ponytail had stepped out behind her and had one hand over her mouth and a knife at her throat.  The man in the van spoke again, his tone still as matter-of-fact as if he were asking for directions.
“Don’t think about screaming, blondie, or the other one gets it.  Walk around the back and get in.”
The back door of the van flew open as someone inside opened it.  Against what should have been her better instinct, Megan walked to the back as the man with the ponytail frog-marched Kristin towards it.  A gloved hand reached out and dragged her in as Kristin was shoved roughly in.  The ponytailed man leaped in behind them, the doors slammed, and the van was off.  Less than 30 seconds had elapsed and no one on the quiet suburban block had seen or heard a thing.
Even so, the van stopped behind a grocery store in the next town over and the men put different license plates on it and removed the magnetic plumbing supply decal from the side.  A slave catcher doesn’t get far in the business without being very careful.

Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 02



Inside the van, the two teenagers were quickly pushed face down and had duct tape put over their mouths. The man inside the van put pillowcases over their heads and secured them with lengths of cord around their necks, while the ponytail man ziptied their wrists and ankles, attaching the ties together in a hogtie. The girls, of course, had nothing to compare it to, but the man was very careful not to overtighten the zipties and cut off circulation. Their keys, cell phones, and wallets were yanked out of their pockets, but otherwise their clothing and bodies were left alone.

Before being blindfolded, Kristin had gotten a quick impression of the inside of the van. It was bare metal inside, but blankets had been laid on the floor. The man who'd dragged them in and gagged them was very stocky, bald, and had a red beard. Like the other two men she'd seen, he wore jeans and a gray work shirt and looked like a plumber on his way to a job, not a professional kidnapper.

The van drove for several hours, stopping briefly a few times. The men were mostly quiet as they drove, exchanging only a few words, most of which were muffled by the pillowcase. Kristin, like a lot of quiet people, was used to observing her surroundings, but being blindfolded gave her a lot of uncomfortable time alone with her thoughts. Her first thought was that they were going to be raped, but it became clear very quickly that the men had something else on their mind.

Beside her, it was clear that Megan was not taking it as rationally. She had thrashed and made muffled screams for a little while, but when one of the two men sitting in the back with them slapped her, she lay still and sobbed quietly for the rest of the journey. Kristin wanted very badly to reach out and comfort her friend, but the hogtie made that impossible, and she wasn't sure exactly what comforting thing she could say. "Don't worry, they haven't raped and murdered us yet" didn't seem to be quite right, and she couldn't think of anything more positive to think about the situation.

She wasn't sure how long they were on the road, but after a long period of steady highway driving, the van pulled off and negotiated a series of streets. It finally rolled to a stop, the back doors were flung open, and Kristin felt a knife roughly cutting the zip ties on her ankles. Before she had a chance to stretch her legs out, she was grabbed under the arms and dragged out of the van. Her legs were shaky from their long time in bondage, but whoever was holding her steadied her until she got circulation back. She heard renewed screams and struggling as someone did the same for Megan, until the gray-haired man from the van spoke from somewhere.

"Okay, ladies. We're going to look you over. Stand still, be calm, and stay quiet, or you're going to regret it. Nod if you understand."

Kristin quickly nodded, and beside her she heard Megan's sobbing finally stop. The man behind her cut the zip ties from her wrists deftly, his knife point barely touching her skin. He quickly switched his grip to her wrists and held her still. Knowing there were at least four of them, and that they were armed and she was blindfolded, she didn't offer even a moment of resistance.

A pair of voices approached the two terrified teenagers, having a conversation in a language Kristin didn't understand but which put her in mind of ducks quacking. One of the four men from the van responded in the same language, and Kristin felt the grip on her wrists tighten.

"The black one first," said an unfamiliar voice, and the man behind Kristin pushed her forward one step, nearly knocking her over.

"Stand still," he hissed in her ear, and before she could even think of not doing so, he pulled the collar of her t-shirt and began cutting it with his knife. The shirt cut in half quickly and she felt another pair of hands pull it away from the front, causing her to scream involuntarily. He slapped the side of her head hard enough to make her ears ring before hooking a finger into the waistband of her jeans and slicing down one pant leg in a few sawing motions. She regained her composure enough to stand rigidly still as he cut down the other pant leg and her jeans fell away, leaving her standing in her bra and panties with a pillowcase tied over her head in front of an unknown number of strange men. Beside her, Megan began to cry again, only to be silenced by a slap and an exclamation in the quacking language.

The knife man wasn't even touching her anymore, but Kristin stood rigidly still and trembling anyway as he quickly cut her bra strap and the thin strips of fabric holding her panties together over her hips. She felt the hands of the man in front of her lifting her breasts as if weighing them as the man behind her loosened the cord holding the pillowcase over her head. She gasped and her body stiffened as her left nipple was tweaked, which caused a general round of laughter from the men around her.

The pillowcase was pulled away from her head, revealing a short Asian-looking man with a wispy mustache and a piratical air standing in front of her in what appeared to be a large warehouse of some kind. The man scanned her body seriously as he ran his hand over her pussy, causing her to tremble and look down. He gripped her firmly under the chin and looked down into her eyes, then turned and asked a question to the gray-haired man, who responded in the same language. He took her wrists more gently than the other man had and turned her around, revealing that the man with the knife was the bearded man from the van. The stranger said something and patted her ass.

"Bend over and get those legs apart, sweetheart. He's going to take a look at the goods" said the gray-haired man. He was standing with another Asian man, this one younger and more muscular than the one inspecting her, and a lanky bald man who must have been the fourth man from the van. Beside her, the ponytail man from the van gripped Megan's wrists as she stood in her bra and panties with the pillowcase still over her head.

The Asian man slapped her ass harder and repeated his command, and Kristin quickly bent over as far as she could. 

This was it, then. Her first time was going to be with a bunch of scary men in a warehouse hundreds of miles from home, and she was probably going to be buried somewhere that she'd never be found again afterwards. The stranger ran his hand over her pussy again, fitting a finger one knuckle deep inside of it, then poked at her anus, which tightened involuntarily in fear. He then smacked her ass and stepped away, saying something she couldn't understand, and the bearded kidnaper yanked her hair and straightened her up.

The two Asian men and the gray-haired man had a brief conversation in the language she didn't recognize, and then nodded towards the man holding Megan, who cut her bra and panties off the way he had Kristin's. Before she had a chance to watch her friend's inspection, the bearded man pulled the tape off her mouth, causing her to cry out in pain, and dropped the pillowcase back over her head.

"All right, sweetheart, you did good. Now we're going to take a little walk. Keep your mouth shut and do whatever I tell you and you'll be just fine." He gripped her wrists together at the small of her back and began to walk the terrified and naked girl away from the van. Behind her, she heard Megan screaming and crying as her mouth was untaped, and slaps and angry curses silencing her.



Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 03



Kristin would have worried about Megan, but her fear for herself completely overcame her concern for her friend as she was led away from the van. This was it, then. The kidnapping, transport, and inspection were just a prelude to this. She was going to be led into the corner of this warehouse and be gang raped by a bunch of foreigners. Her knees went weak with fear and she staggered as the man behind her pushed her forward. She heard herself sobbing in a muffled and distant way, as if it were happening miles away.

"Pull yourself together, girlie," said the bearded kidnapper pushing her along. "You're going to be perfectly fine if you're just a good girl and do what you're told. No one here is going to hurt you."

Kristin heard the words but couldn't quite process their meaning. Something about the man's tone comforted her, and she managed to walk a couple hundred more feet until he stopped moving her along. A firm hand on her shoulder forced her to her knees, which made contact with some kind of spongy flooring instead of the concrete she'd been walking along. The man pushed gently at the back of her head and she bowed it unthinkingly, her wrists still behind her back as they'd been while he pushed her.

"Don't move."

Kristin was more paralyzed with fear than obedient, but she complied even as she felt the man walk away from behind her. Her head jerked up reflexively as she heard footsteps approaching from the front, even though the pillowcase masked her vision.

"Head down!" shouted an accented voice that did not belong to any of the kidnappers she'd heard. Terrified, Kristin felt the pillowcase yanked off her head. She couldn't help but look up, where she saw an older Asian woman in black t-shirt and pants with her hair pulled back severely. The woman slapped her across the face so hard that she saw stars and Kristin jerked her head down to look at the interlocking foam gym tiles she was kneeling on, sobbing again.

Someone behind her pulled her wrists away from her back and she felt something cold and metal being placed on each of them, then closed with a click. The person then placed a heavy metal collar around her neck, which they closed with a lock. They then moved away with a clinking sound.

"Now stand!" said the woman in front of her. Kristin awkwardly rose to her feet, which is much harder with your hands cuffed behind you, making sure not to look up. The woman grabbed her shoulders and turned her ninety degrees to the right. 

"No move!" said the woman, and then walked away. Kristin now had a few moments to size up where she was now that the blindfold had come off. She was still in the warehouse, standing not far from a couple shipping containers on one side and empty floor the way she had come from, and she was facing another naked girl with her hands cuffed behind her. She didn't dare look up, but the girl was obviously not Megan. Not only was she darker and very slim, Kristin could hear Megan crying as she was led over.

Somewhere behind Kristin, Megan was cuffed, with a few shouts from the angry woman who had slapped Kristin, and then a man came up behind Kristin and clipped a chain to the cuffs on her wrists, ran a short length from her cuffs to the back of her collar forcing her shoulders and elbows into a slightly uncomfortable position, and then attached another chain to the front of her collar and attached it to the cuffs of the girl in front of her, who was chained the same way. Kristin's eyes drifted up and she realized she was fourth in a line of girls and facing an open shipping container.

A stinging sensation across her ribs jerked her out of her observations. The young Asian man who had greeted the van held a narrow plastic cane with which he had just hit her.

"Look down!" he shouted, and Kristin stared hard at her toes. The woman who had slapped her came up alongside her.

"You want to be bad? Huh? You want to be bad?"

Kristin did not want to be bad and she didn't want to be noticed in any way. There was something oddly comforting about being just one more girl in the line, invisible as part of the mass. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen to all of them, and it apparently wasn't going to be violent or sudden. It clearly wasn't going to be good, either, but Kristin was not in a particularly pensive frame of mind. She looked hard at her toes and tried to be invisible, which apparently satisfied the woman and the man with the cane, who walked up to the head of the line. 

"Walk!" shouted the woman, and Kristin felt herself tugged by the girl in front of her, who was moving. She stepped forward, helpless to do anything but follow. She felt herself jerk someone behind her just as she had been jerked. The coffle shuffled up and into the shipping container, and is Kristin took the step up into it, she felt a renewed fear grip her stomach.

"Stop!" shouted the woman from the door of the shipping container, and Kristin tripped mid-step in her desire to obey. A fourth person who Kristin hadn't seen before, this one a girl around her age dressed identically to the older woman, walked from the front of the container, unchaining each girl's wrists from the collar of the girl behind her, but leaving the wrist to collar chain in place. After dropping the chain from the front of Kristin's collar, she reconnected the padlock to an iron ring welded to the wall of the container in front of her. Kristin didn't quite understand the point of this, as the chain was longer than the container was wide, but she kept silent and made sure she was looking down at her feet. The girl moved on and attached Kristin's chain to another ring beside her head.

"Turn! Sit down!" shouted the older woman from the door, and Kristin, after a brief moment of confusion about which way to turn, decided she meant away from the wall she was chained to. Sitting down proved even more awkward with arms behind her than standing up had been, but turning gave her a chance to see around the container. Besides the three girls in front of her, there were two girls closer to the door, the last of whom was Megan, whose entire face was puffy and red from crying and who was still shaking silently as though she couldn't stop sobbing.

The container's floor had some type of rough burlap sacking stacked on it, just enough to make it tolerable, if not comfortable, to sit on. Other than the six naked girls, the container was empty except for a five-gallon plastic bucket in the middle of the container. Kristin had a sinking feeling she knew what it was for, accompanied by the sudden realization that her bladder hadn't been emptied since before she and Megan had left her house several lifetimes ago.



Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 04



The girl who had unchained her and the young man from Kristin's inspection climbed into the container, the man carrying a gym bag and the girl holding several bulging shopping bags. The man sat himself down at the front of the container and leaned against the wall and the girl dropped the shopping bags in front of him, then departed. The container was plunged into total darkness as the doors were slammed behind, mitigated somewhat by the man breaking over a green chemical lightstick and taping it to wall behind his head. The eerie green light only made the darkness that much more oppressive, and Kristin heard the soft sounds of five other terrified girls breathing hard and trying to remain silent from around her.

After an eternity there in the darkness, the container began to lurch and move and Kristin felt a sinking feeling in her stomach like it was being lifted. After swaying for a while, it dropped again with a tremor that made all the girls shudder and then stopped again. She still felt a sort of swaying and bobbing underneath her and wondered if they were on a boat of some kind.

She heard the sobbing around her resume, but none of the girls tried talking or moving. She was hoping one would move so that she could see if there would be any consequences for moving towards the bucket and if they would be worse than peeing herself. Finally she decided to risk it. Rising to her feet, she felt the guard's eyes on her as he looked up from the comic book he was reading with a headlamp. She was flushed darker than she'd ever been as she peed into the bucket, naked and chained in front of her best friend and five total strangers. The guard didn't move, and she decided not to test her newfound freedom any further. She returned to her place on the wall and after a moment, he returned to reading.

Somehow it had been liberating to just be able to wait and not move. Now that Kristin knew she had some small bit of freedom, her mind raced with things she might be allowed to do. Could she try talking to Megan? Could she lie down? Her act of boldness had encouraged one of the other girls to get up and use the bucket too. Kristin tried to catch her eye and smile at her, but the girl was obviously as humiliated as Kristin had been and shuffled by with her head down. Kristin couldn't tell in the dark if she even glanced her way.

After some indeterminate length of time, the guard took one of the shopping bags, got up, and walked along the row of girls, dropping a bottle of water and an energy bar in front of each one. Kristin debated whether they might be drugged in some way, then decided there was nothing her captors could drug her with that would put her any more at their mercy than she already was. It had been hours at least since she'd last eaten or drank, and she realized she was very thirsty and hungry, so she went for it. Around her, she heard the other girls hesitate as she had before doing the same. Her mind had slowed down a bit as she realized she had nothing to do but wait for whatever was coming. She closed her eyes and got as comfortable as she could lying on burlap sacking in chains, and before she knew it the gentle motion of her container lulled her to sleep.

Kristin woke up a couple more times, was fed a couple more times, had to use the bucket a couple more awful times, and had more time than she wanted to sit in the darkness and think. She had no idea how long it had been or where she was, but she figured it must have been at least 48 hours since she and Megan had been kidnapped. She worried quite a bit if Megan was alright, but after the girl next to her tried to whisper something to her and the guard came over and slapped her, she decided she could wait to find out.

What had they been kidnapped for? She couldn't imagine it being for ransom, the kidnappers seemed too well-organized for that, unless they were political terrorists of some kind and she was being shipped to North Korea or something. It didn't take much reflection to guess why someone might want six young American girls, but that didn't really happen, did it? Kristin had read about sex trafficking, but it always seemed to involve poor girls from poor countries or maybe teen runaways in America, not people like her. Bad things weren't supposed to happen to girls like her. Her family was well-off, she lived in a safe neighborhood with excellent schools, she studied hard, never got in trouble with boys (sigh), and had never even tried drugs or alcohol. She was supposed to go to college, get a degree, spend a few years finding herself, go to graduate school, find a career, then maybe when she found a guy she liked and who respected her choices as a woman, get married and possibly have children. She wasn't supposed to be in a filthy cargo container with her best friend and a bunch of strangers, being trafficked to God knows where, where she'd spend the rest of her life doing...well, Kristin didn't know exactly what a trafficked woman would do other than having involuntary sex with strangers, and ideas about just exactly what they might expect filled up more of her time in the container than she'd like to admit. Though Kristin had never been much of a crier, even as a baby, there were times that the quiet sobbing that continuously echoed in the container included her own.

She was jerked out of another troubled period of sleep by a rocking and clanking that was different from the normal noises of the ship. Around her, she heard the other girls waking up and straining to listen as well. The sounds and odd movement lasted a while after the ship came to a stop, and a lot of yelling and confusion could be heard outside the container. Kristin's first impression was that they'd somehow been discovered and Navy SEALs must be boarding the ship. She'd fantasized quite a bit about this exact scenario, but it was quickly dispelled when she realized that the ship must be docking somewhere, and that meant that whatever was intended for them was continuing right on schedule.

After about twenty minutes of shouting and clanking, the world turned white and it was impossible to see anything. Kristin had reflexively looked towards the container door as it started to open and the unexpected brightness of the sun had been a shock to her dark-adjusted eyes.

"Stay sit!" shouted the guard, rising, gathering his belongings, and walking out the door. Two more people, who to Kristin were just black silhouettes, entered the container as he left.

"Eyes down" ordered one of them in what sounded like British English. The other person walked to the back of the container. Even with her eyes down, Kristin could tell he was undoing the girls' iron collars. "Now, ladies," continued the man at the door, "we're going to get you out of these irons. You will continue to do exactly as I say, or there are going to be problems. You've been very good girls for my colleague, I understand, so I'm sure we'll have no problems at all. When your collars are undone, you will continue to sit silently with your eyes down. On my order, you will stand, facing the door of the container. On my further order you will file out, and again on my command you will stop and await further instructions. This will all by done with your pretty eyes downcast and your mouths completely shut. Indicate you understand by staying quiet."

The girls did mostly stay quiet, though crying did start up again. Kristin felt the collar taken off her neck by a man whose legs were clad in military-style khaki pants and military boots, as she strained to keep her eyes down. If she was going to escape, disobeying while in the container and watched by at least two people seemed like a bad plan, and it was also possible that these were rescuers, though the rational part of Kristin knew this was impossible. Still, weren't there a British version of Navy SEALs? Or was the man Australian? He sounded sort of Australian, but muttery. The sun was high in the sky. What time was it? How many days had it been?

"On your feet!" shouted the man from the door, who Kristin knew could not possibly be an Australian SEAL no matter how much she wanted him to be. She stood up and realized her legs had forgotten how exactly standing worked. She had to brace with one hand against the wall of the container for a moment, nervous that she might get in trouble for it. In front of her, she saw Megan try to stand, then fall down in a sobbing heap. The man at the door, who Kristin could see the tall lean outline of, walked over to her and gently helped the crying naked girl back up.

"Been off our feet for a long time, have we, dearie? Now, we've got a little way to walk, so put your hand on that wall and steady yourself. Oi! Keep your eyes down back there! Don't give me trouble, ladies, because I will give trouble back!" Kristin guiltily looked hard at her feet and moved her hand from the wall.

"Now walk forward." Kristin obeyed, shuffling out of the container and into the sun and fresh sea air, which was a big upgrade from the dankness of the container that had been her home. When her bare feet touched the deck of the ship, she felt a flipping in the pit of her stomach. The container, awful as it had been, had been limited and safe, and she knew what to do there, even if it was only waiting. Now she was in a big open world with no idea what was expected of her and what might happen, and it was unexpectedly terrifying, much more so than even the darkest fantasies she'd had in transit.

"Halt!" shouted the voice. "All right, my pretty things, now isn't it better to be out of that nasty can? I'm afraid I can't give you much of a chance to enjoy it, though. Now just stand still like good girls for a moment, we've got to get you done up again."

Kristin didn't have much chance to reflect on what "done up" might mean, because she was done up very quickly. Someone stepped from beside her, buckled a heavy leather collar lined with thick padding around her neck, put a blindfold over her eyes, and grabbed her wrists, pulling them together behind her back and putting cuffs that felt like the collar on them, then clipping them together. The speed and efficiency with which it happened surprised Kristin, who hadn't even gotten a glance at whoever did it to her.

"All right, girls, listen carefully. These will just be on for a few minutes. You can see a bit around the edges of those blindfolds, so look down and watch where your feet are going. Stay quiet for a bit more now, I'm going to be snapping you together so we can take a little walk."

Metal snaps clicked to the front and back of Kristin's collar, and once again the coffle of six naked girls marched off on the command of their kidnappers.



Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 05



The girls were finally halted inside of what Kristin figured was a hangar or warehouse of some type not far from where the ship was docked. The man who'd been leading them ordered them to kneel down on some old carpet quietly with their eyes down, and so they did. A number of voices could be heard echoing in the large building, but she couldn't pick out any people or words from the discussion.

While standing and waiting to learn her fate, she thought again about escaping. She had passively accepted every command given to her since being captured several days before, and when not given orders she'd simply waited to be given more. She'd always been a bit skeptical that someone could actually be kidnapped like that and not just coerced and scared, and she always imagined that if anyone had tried to grab her, she would have kept a level head and waited for a chance to escape. Well, her head was level, at least as level as could be accepted in her state, and she hadn't done a thing. Of course, there had never been a point when she hadn't been bound in some form and being watched by at least two pairs of eyes, and that level of professionalism had never played into her imagined scenarios.

She sat on the carpet for at least an hour, as she heard the other girls being ordered to stand and led away at approximately 15 minute intervals, starting with Megan (she could recognize her friend from the crying at this point). That was a long time to speculate on what was being done with them now that they had reached their apparent destination, and the speculation was so unpleasant that when she was yanked to her feet, felt a leash clipped to her collar, and yanked along behind someone, it was almost a relief. She noticed in a slightly dazed way the that voice that barked "Come!" at her like a dog was a woman's.

She was led on her leash down a hallway, pushed into a room, and ordered to "Sit!" by the woman who was leading her, accompanied by a quick push on her shoulders. Disoriented, tired, and still blindfolded, Kristin staggered back and sat down on a folding chair almost by accident. The woman undid the cuffs behind her and clipped them individually to the side of the chair, then pulled the blindfold off her, revealing a doctor's office.

Kristin wasn't entirely sure what she'd been expecting (medieval torture chamber and Dubai brothel basement were on the list), but a very normal doctor's office, with green institutional walls, drop tile ceiling, anatomy charts on the wall, and examination table was not it. The doctor was a sallow and very short Indian man in a dingy white coat, and the woman who had been leading Kristin was dressed in a black tank top and black military fatigue pants and could be most charitably described as "beefy", with her hair drawn back in a harsh bun.

The woman gripped Kristin's chin and turned her head, looking down so their eyes were only inches apart. "Listen to me, you little bitch. The doctor is going to ask some questions. You'll answer those questions and you'll keep your little cunt mouth quiet otherwise, do you understand?" Her tone was harsh and Midwestern, and somehow the American accent and familiar setting made Kristin feel at ease in a strange sort of way. The doctor was going to talk to her. All she had to do was answer his questions, and she'd be fine. She nodded, as easily as it's possible to do so when a large red hand is gripping your jaw. The woman dropped Kristin's head and straightened back up, allowing Kristin to look directly at the doctor.

"Age?" asked the doctor, looking at his clipboard and not his "patient."

She had to hesitate for a minute. She hadn't had a single chance to form a word since being grabbed of the street a moment ago, and retreating into her silence was a form of protection. She was naked and bound in front of them, completely at their mercy, but her voice was still hers and she felt a strange desire to guard it. Finally, she managed to weakly say "Eighteen."

"Any significant medical issues?"

The cuff upside her head distracted her from the question. "Listen, slut. You address any man who speaks to you as Sir and any woman as Ma'am, do you understand?"

Kristin nodded, mute and terrified.

"I heard you talk, whore. What do you say?"

Kristin barely managed to squeak out a "Yes Ma'am."

The doctor tiredly looked up at the guard. "Please allow me to examine my patient, thank you."

The guard stepped slightly away from Kristin, visibly stiffened in anger. Kristin didn't know what to do or say, and the best her brain could come up with was "Yes, Sir". She wasn't entirely sure what question that was an answer to, but it seemed appropriate. The doctor looked back at his clipboard.

"Any significant medical issues?"

"No, Sir."

"Medications?"

"No, Sir. Er, birth control, Sir."

"Are you sexually active?"

The question chilled her and reminded her why she was here. 

She managed to get out a "No, Sir" to keep the guard away from her.

The doctor attached a blood pressure cuff to her arm and examined her chest with a stethoscope while the cuff tightened. After taking the cuff off and scribbling on his clipboard, he said "I'll have to take blood. Please to look away and close your eyes."

Kristin gratefully screwed her eyes shut and turned her head away. Not that she'd ever had a significant issue with needles, but it felt nice to get away from the cruel guard and the terrifying medical examination, if only for a moment and only in her head. She barely felt the needle, and only realized the doctor was done when he said "Please unclip her."

Kristin almost whimpered as the guard stepped over to her and unclipped the cuffs from the chair, but the woman just stepped back to the door without any gratuitous acts of cruelty.

"Now please you will stand up."

Kristin unsteadily rose to her feet, her knees weak and wobbly. The doctor ordered her to rotate her arms, bend side to side, touch her toes, and so on, all of which felt particularly humiliating naked, but a combination of her general daze and fear of the guard made her do it unhesitatingly.

He then ordered her up on the exam table, and continued what felt just like her annual physical with Doctor Clifton back home. The familiarity of his questions and the tired distance of his manner were strangely comforting to Kristin, until the last question.

"Now, please, I am sorry, but you have had sex before?"

The phrasing and nature of the question baffled Kristin and she looked at the doctor quizzically, then at her guard, which quickly prompted her to say "No, Sir." She felt herself blush, but he didn't even look at her and just continued on his clipboard.

"Ma'am, I am done with your patient."

The guard barked "On your feet, slut. Hands behind your back, head down, and shut the hell up until I tell you to talk."

Kristin mutely and obediently complied as the guard clipped her hands back together, blindfolded her, and once again led her through a maze of hallways on a leash. This time, the journey ended in a tiny room that looked like a janitor's closet which contained nothing but a cot and a bucket. Without a word, the woman undid Kristin's hands, reattached them in front, took the blindfold off, and slammed the door behind her.

As soon as the door shut, Kristin curled up on the cot and began to sob. She didn't get up when a plate of some type of porridge and a dish of water slid through a slot in the door and she didn't even bother testing the door. She knew by now that escape wouldn't be that easy.



Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 06



Kristin was still curled up on the cot hours later when the door opened again. A thin man with a goatee and ponytail, wearing the same black military pants and black t-shirt as the other guard, opened it.

"Let's go, princess."

He waited at the door for her to get up instead of grabbing her like the other guard had, and Kristin hesitated for a moment, considering defiance and trying to find the words for exactly how she'd tell him off. Of course, it was stupid. Her hands were bound, she was naked, and it wasn't like he couldn't just drag her out if she struggled. Or go get the woman guard. Kristin got on her feet and looked at him uncertainly. 

The guard blindfolded her, clipped her hands behind her back (Kristin saw now they were just using a carabiner to connect the D-rings of the cuffs), leashed her, and led her through the gray-carpeted and fluorescent-lit hallways. If it hadn't been for the fact she was naked and on a leash, Kristin would have felt like she was in a suburban office park. Their route then led her down several flights of a fire staircase and into a green-painted basement level.

"Okay, now stop here. Hang on a minute. You're going to feel something on your skin. Don't flinch, it won't hurt."

Despite his instructions, Kristin flinched when something cold and wet touched her. Something like a marker? It felt like it wrote something just above her left breast and below her right hip.

"Okay, princess. Now just wait here for a bit. You know to be quiet for me."

Kristin heard the man walk away, but was sure she hadn't been left alone. She heard voices directly in front of her, muffled as if coming from the next room. After a few minutes, she heard the door open and the voices become more distinct. Someone from the door shouted "Five two eight!" Kristin wasn't sure what to do, but wound up not having to do anything, as she heard someone else go in and the door shut. Another fifteen minutes, and it opened again. "Seven one six!" A hand tugged Kristin's leash and she was led through.

Inside the room, Kristin was poked and tugged into position, then halted. Her blindfold was removed and her hands uncuffed. She was looking at a long folding table inside a bare basement room. Sitting behind the table were five people looking at folders, with stacks of more folders on either side of them.

A skinny and worn-looking middle-aged blond woman, a tall man around thirty with dirty blond hair, a stocky black man with a white beard, a hugely muscular bald man, and a man in his forties with wire-rimmed glasses who looked like an accountant sat in judgment of Kristin. 

"So what have we got here?" asked the bearded man.

The woman was ready. "Seven one six. Eighteen, American, apparently a virgin. Grabbed with that blond number that came through earlier, zero two six."

"Oh, her. Nice piece of property. Ms. O'Connor got her, right?"

The blond woman confirmed.

"You want the other one?"

"I don't think so. I've never had much luck with girls who knew each other, and they're obviously not sisters or anything."

The bearded man chuckled. "Now that's a racist assumption. But they're not a matched pair either way. Mr. Warren?"

The man in glasses looked her up and down. "Not a bad body. How's her behavior been?"

The guard behind her spoke up. "Didn't give me any trouble. Just meekly followed like a good girl. That might have been because it was Alice who put her away, though."

The bearded man laughed again. He had laugh wrinkles around the corners of his eyes, never stopped smiling, and appeared to find everything hugely funny. For some reason seeing a man who looked like her jolly uncle sitting in judgment of her, whatever this panel was, made her feel safer.

"I bet that educated her. Didn't it, seven one six?"

Kristin was confused. The man had apparently addressed her, but she didn't know what to say.

"Sir?" was all she managed.

The accountant smiled thinly. "She's young, a sweetheart, and a virgin. I know that's money, but I prefer breaking whores to pretending it's junior prom. Pass."

"Mr. White?"

The bald man stared at her intensely. "How many more have we got in this lot?" He had a British accent of the sort associated with chimney sweeps and football hooligans.

"Just four. You should have their pictures and basics on the datasheet." There was a rustling of papers as the bald man looked for it in his pile of folders.

"This is the pick of the litter, I think. I'll take it, if no one has any objections."

The bearded man looked her up and down, still smiling in his friendly way. "I have one more opening too. We all should, except for Mr. Chase."

"Didn't think she was your style."

"Well, she isn't, but I have a good feeling about this one."

Kristin's stomach knotted. Something about the bald man Mr. White terrified her. It wasn't just the fact that he looked like a prison gang leader with his mass of steroid muscle and tattoos. Something about the way he looked at her chilled her. The glasses man was the only one of the group that didn't look like a criminal of some kind, but he apparently like "breaking whores". Still, she hoped the bearded man "got her", whatever that meant. Anything was better than the bald man's cold stare.

"You going to guarantee me one of the other picks?"

The bearded man looked at his paper. "No, probably not. If no one else objects, you can have her."

The bald man didn't smile, just continued to look Kristin up and down. "Any objections? Ms. O'Connor? Mr. Warren? Mr. Chase?"

Mr. Chase hadn't spoken up to this point or really looked directly at Kristin. He'd mostly confined his attention to the arguing between the others. He now looked at her with a sort of conspiratorial smirk that confused her. Something in the back of her brain noticed that he was quite handsome, with high cheekbones and gray eyes, and he filled out his shirt in a nice way, not the creepy bulging way Mr. White did.

"Well, I might have one. Mr. White, what sort of counter-offer are you willing to entertain?"

Mr. White looked at him with a bit of confusion. "You don't have any picks left..Chase." There was an odd sort of hesitation before he said the name. "What would you be willing to give me? First pick next time? Not interested. We conclude business tonight and that's it."

Mr. Chase's smirk didn't fade. Kristin imagined that it could get annoying after awhile. What game was he trying to play? Mr. White clearly had her, so why was this man dragging it out?

"Eight four four."

Mr. White was obviously annoyed at this point. "I know. You got her. I wanted her. You convinced them you should get her. Now I'm taking this one instead."

"Well, I'm thinking you could have her."

Mr. White switched from annoyed to angry, shaking a little bit trying to keep it in. "We don't really have time for your games."

"No games. I think I like this one better, and I think eight four four is better suited for you. How would that be for a trade?"

Mr. White went back to confused suddenly. It sort of deflated him. "I suppose I could do that. Mr. Marshall?"

The bearded man appeared even more amused by this exchange than he had been by anything previous, though he appeared to be trying to contain his smiling now. "It's irregular, but I don't see an issue. Objections?"

Ms. O'Connor and Mr. Warren shook their heads.

"All right, then, seven one six goes to Mr. Chase. Get her out of here and get the next one in."

Kristin had no idea what had just happened, but she had apparently just been traded like a baseball card on a playground, and she was now apparently under the control of "Mr. Chase." Her speculation ran rampant as her guard returned and once again led her away.



Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 07



Waiting in another cell, again, Kristin tried to figure out how long it had been since she had been kidnapped. At least six hours in this one, probably most of a day in the one before, a couple of days on the ship, maybe? Without having seen sunrises, sunsets, or anything to mark the days, it was impossible to judge. She'd eaten maybe three or four times, but her stomach was telling her that was not enough at all. There had to be a full-fledged search operation going on by now, didn't there? Surely someone would find her. On the other hand, these people seemed to be pretty used to doing this, so maybe people didn't get found. She was an adult, after all. Could someone really believe she and Megan had run away? She couldn't imagine her parents accepting it.

More importantly, what exactly was in store for her, and why had she been chosen by "Mr. Chase"? What would have happened if the bald Englishman had not agreed to the deal? She assumed she was going to be raped in some way, but why hadn't it happened yet? She'd been treated like a prisoner and processed by people who were clearly professionals, not some bunch of back-alley Albanian pimps like in the movies. And her father was a network administrator, not a CIA agent like Liam Neeson.

The cell she was in this time looked much more dungeonlike than the anonymous closet she'd been kept in earlier. A metal bed with a thin mattress secured to one wall, a concrete floor with a drain, three stained concrete walls with several ominous-looking metal rings at waist level, and a wire front wall looking out on a concrete corridor that so far had revealed no secrets. And, instead of another bucket, a stainless steel toilet stuck out of the back wall.

Footsteps down the hallway brought Kristin out of her reverie about CIA assassins shooting the woman who had dragged her to her medical exam. Mr. Chase's voice could be heard, though she couldn't see him from her cell.

"All right, ladies, we're going to have a little talk. I want all of you standing in front of your cage doors with your arms boxed behind your back right now. What I mean by that is that you will grab each elbow with your opposite hand, clear? When your door opens, turn to your right 180 degrees and follow instructions. Let's go, move!"

Kristin rose from her cot and slowly walked to the door, putting her arms behind her back as ordered. Mr. Chase appeared at the door. He looked appraisingly at Kristin and nodded without saying anything, then walked on down the hallway. A door further down opened.

"Okay, now turn around like I said. To your right. Good girl. All right, now turn back and face me, take three steps forward then turn left and face down the hall. Head up, eyes straight forward. Don't be scared, girl. There's nothing to be scared of if you just do what I say." His voice was low and solicitous, almost gentle, and something about that bothered Kristin. When the guards were mean and shouted she could put up a sort of shell and distance herself, but she couldn't help but respond positively to gentleness like that. She half hoped he would be cold and angry with her.

Her door was next to be opened. She stood staring into Mr. Chase's face for a minute, forgetting what he'd said to do and paralyzed like a deer in headlights. He was nearly a foot taller than her and something about his height and his blank gray-eyed stare froze her. 

"Come on, seven one six. You're a smart girl. What did I tell you to do?"

She obediently turned her back to him, and she felt him clip her cuffs together.

"Good girl. Okay, back to me." 

She turned back and followed as he stepped back. 

"Wait, now. I know you're raring to go, but I didn't say to step out. Okay, come in the middle of the hallway, turn and face left."

She did as he said, looking down a hallway towards a steel fire door. Three more wire cells were on the left side of the hallway, and three girls were standing at their doors. One by one, Mr. Chase opened their doors, linked their hands, and had them step out and face down the hallway. He then turned and faced the five girls.

"Okay, girls. Now, you in the back will step up so you're about arm's length from the one in front of you. Let's go. Eyes straight forward, head up, no looking around."

Kristin obediently stepped forward as ordered. The girl in front of her, called 220 according to the mark on her right buttock, was small, only a couple of inches taller than Kristin, slender, and pale. Her hair was light and slightly tangled, falling down her back. Her shoulders shook slightly with fear and Kristin had an odd urge to hold and comfort her like she had with Megan, but what would she say? "Don't worry, they haven't raped us yet?"

"When I open the door, walk forward. You'll see five tape strips in a semicircle. When you reach the first, you will just follow the circle until you reach the last open one, then put your toes on it and look straight ahead. Eight five eight here will lead the way, so we have nothing to worry about, because she looks like a good girl and won't lead you wrong."

Behind the fire door was a very large room with a high ceiling and a number of worrying metal contraptions against the walls. Kristin tried to keep her eyes forward and contain her curiosity, though she couldn't help a few darting glances. The girls got on their tape strips with a minimum of confusion, guided somewhat by Mr. Chase. Kristin tried to get a better look at her fellow captives, but Mr. Chase noticed and got very close to her.

"See something that interests you, seven one six? There is nothing in this room worth looking at until I order you to look at it. Don't talk, just nod if you understand me. And keep your head up and your eyes forward. I will not tell you again."

Kristin's posture was as rigid as if she had a metal rod in her neck and she stared as hard as she could at a spot on the far wall. His tone had been as icy as it had been gentle earlier, though she detected no anger in his voice at all, which somehow made it much worse. Mr. Chase walked to the center of the semicircle again and addressed the girls.

"Okay girls. Keep your hands palm down on your thighs. Head down a little, eyes downcast. Spread your fingers a bit so they don't get all fidgety. Feet slightly apart. When you're not told how else to stand or kneel, that's what to do. Relax and listen to me."

Kristin felt herself shivering as she tried to hold the position as closely as possible. As curious as she was about the other girls around her, she was pretty sure Mr. Chase was watching her eyes for any signs of wandering. He may have ordered her to relax, but she wasn't ready to do that just yet.

"Some of you may not yet have figured out why you're here, what you are, and who I am. Let's make a few things perfectly clear. You will not be rescued. You will not be ransomed. As far as anyone and anything you have ever known is concerned, you are dead and gone forever. You will not see wherever you came from again and no one you know will find you. The girls you were are dead. You will never hear the names you were once called again. You are no longer human beings."

Kristin could hear crying and sobbing from all the girls around her, and found herself unable to suppress a couple gasps from within her chest and tears from rolling down her eyes. She had been clinging to the idea of being ransomed and rescued like a drowning man on a rope, even though everything that had happened made it increasingly clear that wasn't going to happen. It was as if the man who owned her had reached inside her mind, found her desires and comfort, and snatched them away.

"Dry your tears, sluts, because you are truly fortunate. You have been freed from the soft tyranny of a life spent going to college, seeking a career for just long enough to meet the right man who totally respects you as an equal, and then staying home and raising his children. You have found a higher calling. You are property, you are slaves, and you are not your own. You will be sold to the highest bidder and then you will be used as he desires for the rest of your lives.

"But you are not ready to be given such a precious gift yet. You are still wild animals in need of taming. Right now, were I to sell you, it would be so some horrible third world brothel where you'd serve twenty customers a day for the three or so years of usefulness you'd have, and maybe you could be used to do some cleaning or field labor, but you have been given a special opportunity.

"You are all young, pretty, and were raised in relative privilege, at least on the global scale. You can all be trained into being companions and pets for some of the world's wealthiest men.

"You will be owned like dogs and fucked like whores, and I will teach you to love both and to bring the highest price. You may not believe me now, sluts, but remember this moment, because in a few months, as you go on the auction block, you will realize I was correct in every single detail.

"Now, sluts, since this is the first day of the rest of your life, I'm going to introduce you to your sisters in training. You will suffer together, cry together, and learn together until I decide you're ready for sale. When I call your number, walk up to this tape strip by me, face the other sluts, and assume the display position.

"In the display position, put your hands behind your head, feet shoulder width apart, eyes straight forward and stand up straight. Get the position right, sluts, this is your first lesson. Eight five eight!"

The girl on the far end of the semicircle hesitantly stepped forward and took her place next to him, visibly shaking. She was a dark-eyed brunette a few inches taller than Kristin and even curvier, with the largest breasts Kristin had ever seen in person, which despite their size stood up firmly. Mr. Chase felt her over, weighing her breasts in his hands and running a hand down her stomach and between her parted legs.

"Shoulder width apart, slut. Your new name is 'tits'. You understand, slut?"

The girl nodded fearfully.

"I can't hear you."

"Yes, Sir," she squeaked.

"I can't hear you."

"Yes, Sir" she managed to get out.

"What's your name, slave?"

She hesitated a moment, and he slapped her across the face sharply.

"I asked a question, slut"

"My name is tits, Sir"

"Good girl, tits. Now back in your place. Three six six!"

Number 366, a tall and milk-pale strawberry blonde, walked over to him less hesitantly than the previous girl had and assumed a ramrod-straight display position. Just as he had with "tits", he ran his hands over her appraisingly.

"You're the pick of the litter, slut. Standing tall like a good girl, and one of the prettiest slaves I've ever trained. Now, just so you don't get too full of yourself, your name is "cunt". You like that name, slut?"

The girl was indeed stunningly beautiful, looking more like a Victoria's Secret model than a girl next door. Her face indicated that she did not like the name "cunt" at all, but her mouth managed to say "Yes, Sir."

"What's your name, slave?"

The girl hesitated like tits had, but not long enough to allow him to slap her. A quick learner.

"My name is cunt, Sir." Kristin noticed that she had what sounded like a Scottish or Irish accent.

"Good cunt. Now back in your place. Two two zero!"

The girl in front of Kristin shuffled forward, head down, and stood in front of the group. Her head was bowed slightly, her elbows almost touching in front of her, and she twisted and flinched away from Mr. Chase as he reached for her.

"Is that how you stand for me, slut? Back straight, eyes forward. Get those elbows back as far as you can."

The girl corrected herself, shaking visibly as she did so.

"There we go. I'm not going to hurt you if you're good, so be good for me. My little Quebec girl, aren't you? Your name is minou, because you're a sweet pretty thing. Tell me your name, slut."

"minou, Sir."

"Qu'avez-vous dit?"

"minou, Sir"

"Good girl. Seven one six!"

Kristin's turn. She tried to walk to the center of the circle upright and confidently, and she hoped her position was as attentive and upright as cunt's had been, but a quick slap on her ass communicated otherwise.

"Legs apart, slave."

His hands ran slowly over Kristin's body, overwhelming her with sensation. So much, in fact, that she didn't realize he was talking to her. A slap on her breast brought her out of her reverie. 

"I said what's your name, slut?"

"Sir?"

"All turned on, slut? Pay attention to me, no matter how much your slutty little pussy is dripping. Your name is doll. You got that?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Tell me your name."

Something inside Kristin screamed this was a moment she had to resist, but she felt herself answering automatically and without thought.

"doll, Sir."

"Good doll. Back in your place."

As Kristin walked back to her place, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was no going back.



Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 08



Kristin stood in a daze as the next girl was called forward. She was tiny, even shorter than Kristin, and very petite, with olive skin and black hair that made her look Indian or Latina. None of the girls had been unafraid, but she was obviously almost petrified with fear, her eyes huge and her whole body trembling.

The trainer's manner was very calm and gentle as he inspected her. 

"Don't worry, pequena. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to give you a new name. English is fine, right?"

The girl shivered with eyes forward as though she hadn't heard him. He slapped her face gently.

"Resposta-se."

She nodded slightly, tears welling in her eyes.

"Say 'Yes, Sir'."

She squeaked something indistinct.

"Louder."

"Yes, Sir." Kristin couldn't place the accent.

"You're a delicate little flower, so I'm going to call you lilly. Tell me your name."

"Antonia."

"Antonia is dead, lilly. Tell me your name."

The girl lowered her head and sobbed. He stood in front of her, lifting her chin so her eyes met his as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"You're lilly. Say it."

She cried and twisted her head slightly, prompting another gentle slap on the cheek. 

"Say it, lilly. I don't want to hurt you, so be a good girl. I won't say it again."

"lilly."

"Good girl. Back in place."

He stepped out of the way, but she just stood in place with her head down, crying.

"Go back to your place, lilly."

He gently swatted her bottom and she slowly returned to her place.

"All right, sluts. Adjust your position, don't forget how I told you to stand at rest. Now I want all of you to get on your knees. 

Butts back on your calves, hands on your thighs and eyes down. Go. Knees a little closer, minou. Straighten your back, lilly. Good girls."

His tone was much gentler than it had been as he addressed them again.

"Now, slaves, let's talk about how I'm going to train you. First, you own nothing. Everything you have right now is a privilege from me. Speaking is a privilege, and will be revoked if you can't do it right. Standing on your hind legs is a privilege. The hair on your heads is a privilege. All I have to do is keep you alive, and that's only because if I damage the merchandise, it comes out of my pocket. I am not a cruel man, and I will be nice to you if you're good for me. You look like a very good lot of girls, so I don't anticipate having to be too mean.

"I'm going to push you very hard, though, to make you the very best slaves you can possibly be. Down here, you're going to learn to accept pain with a smile and become the depraved little sluts I know you can be. If you prove you're useful sexually, we'll get you out of this basement and bring you upstairs and train you to be good servants. And if you're good little servants, we'll train you to be the world's finest courtesans.

"But you have to prove yourself down here first. For now, you have no privileges to use furniture, not that there is any down here. You speak only when spoken to. Either 'Yes, Sir', 'No, Sir', or a direct answer to a question. You don't use the word 'I', 'me', or 'my', You will say "this slave" instead. You will not even stand on your hind legs unless directed specifically otherwise. tits! Get over here!"

The girl rose to her feet unsteadily.

"Down, slave!"

She sunk to her knees again, confused.

"Did I tell you to stand? Just stay there. cunt, get your ass over here."

The red-haired girl looked at him slightly baffled, without moving.

"All fours, cunt."

She crawled slowly over to him, looking up at him.

"Keep your eyes down, cunt. Don't make eye contact unless I tell you to. That goes for all you sluts."

cunt reached the trainer, stopping on all fours at his feet.

"When you stop, get back on your knees in the kneeling rest."

She returned to the position, looking back up at him. He slapped her across the face, hard enough to turn her head to one side.

"Eyes down is part of it, cunt. I won't tell you again. Now, put your face down and your ass up in the air. Stretch your arms out in front of you, on either side of my feet, just like that. Put your right cheek on the floor. Good girl. This is the worship position. Now lick my boots, cunt."

The girl hesitated for a moment, but then her tongue reached out and gingerly touched his polished black military-style boot.

"Good girl. You can move your head around when I have you worship my boots."

She moved her head over to the other boot and gingerly touched her tongue to it as well.

"Enthusiasm, cunt. Whatever I tell you to do, you will do enthusiastically. Get your tongue out and make love to my boots."

After a few moments of licking, he nodded. 

"Back up, cunt. Not bad for your first time. Now thank me for it. Anything I let you do, thank me."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Thanks for what, cunt?"

"Thank you for letting me lick your boots, Sir."

"Pronouns, cunt. You haven't earned them."

"Thank you for letting this slave lick your boots, Sir."

"You haven't earned it, cunt, but it's a lesson for the other sluts. Now crawl back to your place. tits! You ready to try doing it right this time?"

The brunette called tits hesitated a bit more than cunt had when the trainer called her, but she crawled over to him with her eyes down all the same. When she reached his feet, she moved to a kneeling position, still looking downwards.

"Next time change positions with a little bit of grace, tits. You remember the display position?"

"Yes, Sir." Her voice was quiet but steady.

"Now, a slave can display itself on its knees. Upper body same as you did before, knees apart about 90 degrees."

The girl quickly complied, and he squatted so his eyes were only a little higher than hers.

"Head up straighter, tits. Look straight forward. Don't worry about where I am or what I'm doing."

She shuddered as his hands caressed her breasts, running gently underneath and hefting them slightly, then back up to gently stroke her nipples, which hardened in response. Taking them between his fingers, he rolled them softly then pinched down hard and elongated them, causing her to cry out and lean forward, her hands separating behind her head.

"Keep the position, tits, whatever I do. Men are going to go straight for those things, they're championship-caliber breasts. Some guys are going to tie rope around them until they turn purple, whip them bloody, hang weights from your nipples, whatever. In fact, I'm going to do some of those things to them and I'm going to enjoy it. What do you say when a man is nice enough to stroke your nipples, tits?"

"Thank you, sir. Thank you for...touching a slave's...tits."

"My pleasure, tits. Now get your ass back in position. minou! Get over here!"

Kristin could see that tits was crying as she crawled back, and part of her was relieved that tits had drawn that attention, since without her Kristin would have been the most buxom girl in the room. cunt had elegant handful-sized breasts and lilly and minou were both almost flat. She supposed her breasts would get their turn, but not as badly as tits. She also wondered what humiliation he might have in store for her.

minou reached the trainer's feet and slowly adopted a kneeling position, her arms drawn in as to mostly cover her breasts and her hands over her genitals.

"That's not the position I taught you, minou. A slave never hides itself. Hands on your thighs like I taught you. Eyes down, but don't dig your chin into your chest like that."

The girl corrected herself hesitantly.

"What I say, when I say, minou. It's not outright defiance, but you're clearly in need of correction. Do you think I'm the kind of guy you can just kind of do whatever for and that I'll accept that?"

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.

"Speak up, minou."

"No, Sir"

"Ask me to correct you. It's for your own good, after all."

"Correct me, Sir"

"Pronouns, minou."

"Correct this slave, Sir"

"Correct this slave for what?"

"For..covering up, Sir."

"Never ever cover up, girls. Do the positions exactly as I have described them. I will make minor corrections but I will not tolerate deliberate lapses. Stand up, minou. Bend over at the waist, feet wide apart, and grab your ankles."

She complied, exposing not only her pale rump but her genitals to the other girls. The trainer walked around behind her, removing his black leather belt from his waist.

"I'm giving you ten strokes. After each stroke, you will count it, and thank me. If you let go of your ankles, fail to sound off, or screw up the position, the stroke does not count."

Bending the belt double, he quickly struck her left buttock, leaving an angry red stripe. minou screamed and almost straightened, but regained her composure enough to say "One, thank you, Sir!"

A second blow from the doubled belt struck her right buttock. This time she appeared to have been more ready for it. Her "Two, thank you, Sir," clearly came from between gritted teeth. A third, again on the left side, and she sounded off with a bit of a quaver in her voice. When the fourth and fifth blows struck, her count came out as one rushed word. Kristin could see from the red belt outlines that he was striking at a slightly different angle each time so as to ensure he covered all of her ass. The sixth belt strike, however, landed exactly where the first blow on her left buttock had, and she screamed "Please, no more!" and half-straightened instead. His hand caught her head quickly, grabbing the base of her hair and forcing her back down.

"Four more, minou. That one doesn't count. You can do this."

He struck another blow straight across the middle at the top of her cleft, reddening both buttocks. "Six, thankyouSir," said the girl between her sobs. The next struck lower, across her genitalia, and she cried louder without counting.

"How many was that, minou?"

"Seven, sir"

"Not good enough. Let's do that over."

He struck her again in the same place, and she managed to say "Seven, thank you sir."

Eight was to the right buttock again, and hit with a louder crack than any of the others had. She managed to sound off for that, and again when he struck her directly between the legs, though she shrieked with the impact. The final blow wound up from behind her shoulders and landed precisely in the red track from the first blow, which had been struck twice already. The sobbing girl still managed to get out a "Ten, thank you sir."

"And what did you just thank me for, minou?"

"For whipping me, Sir."

"Thank me for correcting you, minou. And that wasn't the whip, just the belt. I've got things that will turn your pretty little ass redder than that."

"Thank you for correcting me, Sir."

"Pronouns"

"Thank you for correcting this slave, Sir."

"Back on your knees, minou."

The girl knelt, her sore buttocks hovering slightly above her calves. The trainer walked over to a cabinet in the corner of the room and got a bottle of lotion, returning to her.

"Now dry your tears, pretty girl. I'm going to have to put some lotion on so your ass stays nice and soft and tender for me, but for now, just stop crying."

He knelt beside the weeping blond girl, picking her up in his arms so her head lay on his shoulder.

"Arms around me, minou, legs on either side of me. Just relax."

He easily handled the girl's weight as she clung to him crying, stabilizing her with an arm around the waist and rubbing lotion into her reddened ass with the other hand. Her tears gradually abated and she clung to him harder as he worked, but when he was done, he gently lowered her back to her knees.

"Okay, minou. I'm done with you. Crawl back in your spot. doll! Get over here."



Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 09



It was finally Kristin's turn to be called in front of her trainer. Would he humiliate her, like he had tits and cunt? Would he hurt her, like he had minou? His abusive treatment of the other girl had been followed up by what seemed like real tenderness, so which was the real man, the one who mercilessly beat a crying girl, or the one who gently held her while she sobbed? Clearly, his job description expected him to debase the girls, who were apparently nothing more than slaves now, but how much pleasure did he get from it? He seemed as relaxed and cheerful hurting the other girls as he had comforting minou or encouraging the terrified lilly, so where did the job end and the man begin?

Captivity had made Kristin better at not letting her internal thought processes distract her too much, and she managed to crawl over to his feet and assume the kneeling position without hesitation. Up close, his presence and attention were overwhelming to her, and she was grateful the position didn't force her to look at any part of him above the knee. Still, she could feel herself trembling under his gaze, which she felt burning into her neck. She was naked and completely powerless before a man who could do anything he wanted, and she had no idea just what that might be. The feeling burned inside her stomach and made her legs feel like jelly. She couldn't have stood if he ordered her.

"Worship, doll. Just like cunt did, with your arms out and face on the floor."

She struggled to comply, pressing her cheek into the cold concrete and stretching her arms out. He stepped over her arms and walked around behind her, his purpose being clear when she felt his hand on her ass as he knelt behind her. He gently stroked and caressed her, which gave her a thrilled tingle she couldn't quite understand, then she felt a finger inside her. Other than the Asian man back at the docks and her gynecologist, it was the first hand other than hers that she'd ever felt, and it gave her a reaction that none of them had.

"All wet already, doll?"

Kristin was mortified. She'd felt a sort of terrified thrill the whole time she was in his presence, but she hadn't connected it to any sort of sexual arousal. Was it some sort of involuntary reaction when the body felt itself in danger?

The finger slid deeper into her, and was joined by another, then they curved and she felt a thrill wash over her body. His thumb was rubbing her stiffened clitoris, and without thinking about it, she pushed back against his hand.

"You like this, don't you, doll?"

The probing fingers slid out, causing Kristin to gasp with disappointment. She felt his other hand running gently over her ass, giving it a firm slap, then teasing her anus, which tensed and thrilled her simultaneously. He shoved his fingers in her mouth, the same fingers which had just been in her.

"Taste yourself, doll. A slave always cleans off anything that's been in her, whatever it is."

Kristin eagerly sucked, something inside her desperately wanting to please him. She whimpered in protest as he stood, taking his fingers from her mouth. She knew there was something she should say, so she hazarded a "Thank you, Sir."

"Good girl, didn't even need a reminder. Thanks for what, doll?"

"Thank you for..letting me taste, Sir." 

"You're an eager little slut, aren't you, doll? All these other slaves can learn from you. Now back up on your knees."

Her pussy burned with desire for his touch and her whole body shook with an emotion she couldn't begin to define. She knew she shouldn't, but she looked up into his eyes, only to see him looking down at her with the first expression that wasn't sardonic superiority. He looked slightly puzzled, but still amused.

A sharp slap on her face made her look down again. "Eyes down, doll. Don't forget your position. Now crawl that cute little booty back to your place in line. lilly! Come here!"

Back in her place, Kristin felt herself burning with hot embarrassment. It wasn't like she hadn't been turned on before. She had been pretty good at getting herself off since she was very young, but it hadn't been a whole body feeling like that ever before. She knew she wanted to escape somehow, but her body had betrayed her and even now was jealous of lilly kneeling before him. Kristin had to restrain herself from crawling back to him, bowing down, and begging for more.

The dark girl called lilly shook like a leaf in the wind on her knees in front of the trainer. Her body seemed to be trying to pull itself into a fetal position and only sheer muscular effort kept her in an approximation of the proper kneeling position. 

"Don't be scared, lilly. I won't say I won't hurt you, but I'll warn you before I do and you'll always know exactly why, even if it's just because I feel like it. No matter how scared it is, I want sluts to do things the same way every time, just as they've been taught. Do you want to be a good slave for me?"

The girl nodded silently, head downcast.

"Speak up, slut. Use your mouth."

Her mouth opened, but only a few gasping sobs came out. The trainer knelt beside her and gripped her chin firmly, pulling her eyes upwards to look into his. "You can do this, lilly. I believe in you."

"Y..yes...s...s...Sir..."

He straightened up. "I knew I was right to believe in this slave. Now, what you're going to do for me is show me your little fuckholes. We won't get into position names yet, just pose how I tell you. First, you remember display?"

lilly's shaking had eased a bit, but her head jerked in something that could have been a nod or a head shake.

"Words, lilly, a slave uses its words to answer."

lilly stuttered a bit, and attempted to bring her hands behind her head. The trainer slapped her face, so gently it almost seemed like a pat. "I didn't say to do it, lilly. I told you to answer me."

lilly finally managed to spit out a "No, Sir"

"When kneeling, display is hands behind head, eyes straight forward, knees shoulder width apart. Now display."

lilly assumed the position and he made a few gentle adjustments. "Good. Now show me your first fuckhole. That would be your mouth. Open your mouth gently and make an O, with your lips open and inviting. Don't purse them so much, how big do you think a cock is? You've clearly got some learning to do. Better. Now say 'please use this slave's fuckhole, Sir', then show your mouth hole like I taught you"

lilly stammered out with little hesitation "Please use this slave's fuckhole" and returned her mouth to position. "Lips out just a bit more, lilly. Make that hole look inviting"

Kristin was shocked by how lewd the display of a mouth made into a perfect hole with lips stuck out was. lilly's face, despite its terrified eyes and strained muscles, still looked more like an obscene sexual object than human features.

"Good slut. Makes me want to fuck that throat right here and now. Next, we're going to show off your ass. I will give you a longer lesson on the use and purpose of that tight little hole very soon, but all you sluts should know that it will be used as much if not more than that drippy little hole between your legs, depending on your owner's preference. So we show it off before we show off the hole you're named after. To show off your ass from kneeling, we use the present command. Wait until I order you, lilly. Hold the display position with mouth open, I didn't tell you to relax. Present from kneeling means you bend forward all the way, put your right cheek on the ground, reach back, and spread those ass cheeks, making that hole available for use. Present, lilly."

The girl hesitated for only a second, bending forward. Kristin couldn't see the presented hole from her perspective, but she had begun to shake again.

"Further apart, lilly. Don't hide anything from me. There we go. Now I'm going to turn you around so the other sluts can see what to do."

With surprisingly little effort, he picked the girl up and spun her around so her back was to the other kneeling slaves. If the slackly open lips had been obscene, the sight of her exposed and stretched anus was beyond any words Kristin had experienced. She felt her own "fuckhole", so recently molested, pucker in a strangely thrilling way at the thought of being forced to show herself off in the same way, and a strange feeling about the trainer manhandling her as he had lilly.

He spun lilly around again so she faced the other girls. "And now for the last hole. Keep showing your ass, lilly, I didn't tell you to stop. You may just be cunts, well, at least one of you is just cunt, and that's because that drippy hole between your legs controls and defines everything about who you are. You'll have this basic fact drilled into your head over and over again in days to come, believe you me. Now, to show it off, you return to your knees, no, not yet, lilly, wait until I tell you, lean all the way back with your arms behind you and spread your knees as far as you can. Show them, lilly. Knees further apart. Don't hide from me. There we go."

He knelt beside her again and gently caressed her exposed pussy, causing her to shudder. "See? Nothing wrong with showing it off. Feels good, doesn't it, lilly?"

"Yes Sir" she said in a tiny squeak, but without the stutter. 

"Back on your knees, slut," he said, straightening up. 

"All right, sluts. We will make a drill out of showing your holes as a regular part of your training. Remember that these three holes is all you are useful for and that having them used is the greatest privilege you can aspire to. I will make you love being a set of holes and I will make you beg. Also remember that it really is easy to be a good slut, just do exactly as I say exactly how I say it. Isn't it, lilly?"

"Yes, sir" said the girl kneeling beside him, without hesitation.

"Good slut. Now crawl over, back in position. On my command, all of you will rise, and again on my command, you will turn and face your cells, then march back. We'll get you fed and put away for a bit. Get some sleep, because training starts in earnest tomorrow."



Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 10



Back in her cell, Kristin found her mind racing. Apparently it was "night", but for the first time since being thrown in the shipping container, she'd felt something other than numb terror. Her mind raced with thoughts she struggled to order. First, she now knew exactly what was intended of her, but the idea of being some unknown person's sex slave still had enough unknown she couldn't quite get her head around it. She had a vague Arabian Nights impression, except maybe with Ferraris instead of camels, when trying to picture who would buy her and what he'd do with her.

What he'd do with her. And there's what it kept coming back to. The thrill and the rush she'd felt, not only as the trainer had touched her, but as she'd watched the other girls humiliated. The line about how the "drippy hole between her legs" controlling her stuck with her in particular, causing a pang in the pit of her stomach. She'd moaned and gasped like a whore when he touched her and she'd have done anything for him to do more. She still felt wet and her nipples stiffened again at the thought of his touch.

Resistance seemed completely futile. She'd seen enough of the place she was being kept to know that it was a very large and well-organized group training her and possibly hundreds of other girls. Not only could she not imagine how to escape and how to run, her body was betraying her as well. 

But if she did nothing she'd be a slave, both in body and in mind. She was sure that if that horrible man had her a few more days, resistance would be even harder and her body would be even more desperately aroused. Used like a whore and sold like livestock. Not the future she'd pictured when writing college admission essays just a few months before.

Kristin had often fantasized about a powerful and dominant man taking advantage of her, though she felt a bit guilty and unfeminist about it, but never anything like this. Instead of a dark passionate Heathcliff with a pair of handcuffs like in the stories she'd seen online, this was an ice-cold professional with a clinical manner doing a job he'd done a hundred times before and would do a hundred times again while some oil baron violated her body in a Dubai high-rise. The sheik, now, he would be dark and passionate, with a pinstriped suit and a brooding manner, and she would look stunning in a pair of high heels and a gold chain waiting on the white couch in his penthouse...

Kristin's reverie was interrupted by the slot at the bottom of her cell door sliding open and a tray being pushed through. She realized to her horror that her hand had strayed between her legs as her imagination wandered. She had to keep her "drippy hole" from breaking and betraying her while she figured out how to escape somehow. 

On the tray was a water bottle, a grayish patty of some sort, some sad-looking rice, and a green apple. Despite how unappetizing the food looked, Kristin's stomach growled at the thought of it. She wondered again just how long she'd been gone that she could be so hungry. She speculated briefly as to whether the food was drugged, until her stomach argued that starving to death would be much worse than any drug they could be giving her. Besides, why would they have to while her body was completely at their mercy anyway?

After eating a meal hardly worse than anything her school cafeteria had served, Kristin found it even harder to focus and organize her thoughts. Immediately after being fed, her treacherous body then reminded her that it had been a very long time since she'd had what felt like a proper night's sleep. The dim light in her cell, the moderate comfort of her cot and its dingy gray blanket, and her full stomach all conspired to lead her down the path of fantasy again, and her hand slipped between her legs once more as her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep.

Kristin awoke with a start at the harsh industrial sound of an buzzer. Her head had the heavy foggy feeling that comes after way too much deep sleep and she thought she could even feel a little drool on her cheek. It took her a moment to get her bearings and realize she wasn't in her bed at home. She was still a sex slave, whatever that meant. She was still naked in an industrial building somewhere far outside the United States. And she had been promised that today her training was beginning in earnest.

The voice of her trainer crackled over a speaker above her head. "Good morning, sluts. You will be served breakfast shortly. You have 15 minutes to eat it. When you hear the warning tone, stand with your arms boxed and eyes down on the blue tape strip in front of your cell door. Await further instruction."

The slot at the base of Kristin's door slid open to reveal just a bottle of water and a granola bar with Chinese writing and a cartoon teddy bear on it. She finished both quickly and was already standing on the tape strip when the buzzer sounded again.  

"Box your arms, cunt, don't hang them behind your back. Eyes down, doll. Now, when the door opens, walk to the center of the hallway and turn to face the door out."

The metal door slid upwards and downwards like an old-fashioned elevator, revealing the wire cage front she'd seen before, but with the door opened. Kristin quickly complied, making sure to keep her eyes down. She could see minou in front of her but couldn't guess anything about the other girl's stance or mindset without looking up at her.

A woman who Kristin had never seen, not the trainer, was the one who came down the line clipping cuffs together. She jerked each girl forward in turn, clipping a four-foot chain to the front and back of their collars and put a large blindfold over each slave's eyes. Kristin tried valiantly to peek, but try as she might, she could see nothing but a sliver of light under each eye. 

"Move!" shouted the woman from the front of the line, and led by minou, Kristin marched forward. They went some distance further than she was expecting, apparently out of the training room and down another damp concrete hallway. When they stopped, the woman came down the line again, removing each girl's blindfold and unchaining her. Besides unclipping Kristin's cuffs, she removed them entirely and dropped them in a basket she carried, leaving the collar on. Without looking around, Kristin could see she was in what looked like a locker room, with doorless lockers, benches, and a smell of bleach and mildew she recognized from her high school gym thousands of miles away.

The woman addressed the girls in a very distinctly Hispanic accent, as though she'd learned English from a book and was only sure of the words if she could spit them out in a series of exclamations. "You need fit bodies! So I help you! You do what I say or you go to lower level! Now follow me!"

The girls shuffled forward after the woman into a room about the dimensions of the room their trainer had spoken to them in the day before. Unlike the other one, this room was brightly lit with a strange bluish tinge that slightly hurt Kristin's eyes and had some sort of soft springy mat lining the floor and walls up to about six feet. It took Kristin to identify the light as coming from sunlight lamps, the kind with UV used for tanning and to treat seasonal depression, and the fact that she found it odd was because she hadn't seen sunlight in a long time. An unknown amount of time.

The woman spread the girls out in a circle across the room and put them through a slow warmup, then a yoga-type workout that left Kristin, who had always been in good shape from gymnastics (up until puberty), dance, and playing softball, shaking and sore in muscle groups she didn't know she had. The woman's tone was surprisingly soft and gentle given her almost military harshness earlier, and Kristin recognized the in the zone expression of someone doing what they love as she pushed the five naked girls to stretch themselves further. Kristin did find herself trying to sneak peeks at the other girls, but after the first "Pay attention, you", focused on the exercise instead.

The workout actually left Kristin feeling strangely relaxed and better about herself, and she found herself smiling a bit for the first time in days as the woman cooled the girls down, stretched them out, and stood them back up in a line. "Now go get clean and eat, hard day today. Forward!" The woman led them through the locker room and into a group shower stall.

"Get clean! Five minutes!"

Kristin enjoyed the hot water and the rough bar of lye-smelling soap provided for exactly five minutes, until the water turned off and the woman shouted again. "Dry off! Hurry!" Five rough beige towels were on the bench in the locker room, and Kristin took her place between minou and lilly again as she dried off. The motion gave her a chance to sneak peeks at her fellow slaves and she felt a momentary tinge of jealousy at cunt's slender hourglass figure and tits' large breasts and round ass. Jealousy why, though? All that meant was that they would bring a higher price when sold as slaves, right?

"Box arms! Let's go!" Kristin found herself automatically assuming the position without thought as the woman came down the line attaching cuffs, blindfolding and chaining the girls together again. Another long shuffle together, and the girls were stopped and had their blindfolds removed in the familiar training room. Where they had lined up the day before were five trays, on each of which were a steaming bowl of oatmeal, a peeled banana, and a cup of what looked like yogurt, along with a bottle of water. 

The trainer was there as well, with his usual knowing smirk and a large coffee mug. "Morning, sluts. Breakfast is ready. Now, you may have noticed that the lady who was kind enough to lead your exercise neglected to unclip your wrists. Like everything else here, this was by design. Eating with fork and spoon is a privilege for human beings, and you have not earned it yet. Now, I expect to see all of you finish your meals, since busy little slaves need healthy bodies, so on my command, march over to your spots, and await my command to get on your knees and chow down like the hungry little animals you are."

Kristin's good feeling toward the world brought on by the workout and hot shower evaporated and she once again felt a flipping sensation in the pit of her stomach. There was no way she could forget the awful reality of where she was eating from a dish like a dog. But he was right, she was hungry, the granola bar earlier hadn't satisfied at all, and as usual, there was no way she could see around doing exactly what was demanded of her.

"Go ahead to your places, sluts. doll, this is the last time today I tell you to keep your eyes down. Wait for my command, tits. Now turn and face the middle. Good girls. On your knees. Go ahead and eat."

He sat down in a folding camp chair facing the five girls with a clipboard in his hand, but instead of looking at his paperwork, he sat and watched the girls. Kristin sat on her knees, staring down at her food. She felt that if he just took his eyes off her, she'd be able to do it, but knowing that his knowing stare was on her made it impossible.

"Not hungry, slaves? There, lilly is eating. Good girl, lilly. Last face I see go into her food is going to be made an example of. Good girl, minou. I see you want to, doll."

Kristin's face flushed as she pushed her face down into the oatmeal and began lapping it with her tongue. She felt it smear all over her face, but pushed the thoughts of being watched out of her mind.

"Good girl, doll. Good job, tits. Uh-oh, cunt. Looks like we're making an example. Go ahead and eat, don't make me stand up, or you're going to be very sorry. There we go."

Kristin finished as quickly as possible, though the banana posed a special challenge and she could only pray that her trainer wasn't watching as she ate it. So she was not only to be sexually abused, but humiliated like an animal? She kept her face in her tray after finishing, hoping that the burning in her cheeks and the food smeared around her mouth would somehow go away if she hid long enough.

Kristin couldn't hide her face in the dish forever. "Straighten up, sluts. Eyes forward. Have you cleaned your dishes?" The trainer walked over to the line. "Didn't eat your banana, lilly. Finish it before I come back to you. Good girl, doll. Ate it all up." He squatted beside Kristin, wiping her face clean with a rough damp rag. Her face burned even more intensely at the intimate attention, and a strange mix of pride and shame flooded her. She had humiliated herself thoroughly, but she couldn't help the reaction her body felt when she was praised gently by him.

"That bowl's not clean, minou. Get it clean before I come back. All of it. Good girl, tits. How'd we do here, cunt? It's clean. Good job. Banana done, lilly? Let me clean your face. Finish that up for me, minou? Good job. Next time I won't tell you little sluts twice. Got to keep those bodies fueled. We know what you need, just do as I say and you'll stay healthy."

A slight dark-eyed woman with boyishly short hair, wearing a collar like Kristin and the other trainees, but wearing a sort of shift instead of nude, appeared out of somewhere and picked up Kristin's tray. Kristin managed to restrain herself from looking anywhere but straight ahead, though she was fascinated and intrigued as to who this woman could be. She wasn't wearing the black shirt and pants all the trainers and staff she'd seen thus far did, and was apparently a "slave" like Kristin, but privileged with clothes (of a sort) and with assisting with training. Kristin wondered if this was what would be expected of her if she were to please her trainer and be graduated "upstairs". It seemed better than crawling naked like an animal everywhere, but participating in the degradation and corruption of other kidnapped girls seemed wrong.

"Now, our first order of business is to demonstrate that I mean exactly what I say. Crawl up here, cunt."

The red-haired girl crawled forward to the trainer, whose chair, clipboard, and coffee cup were whisked away by the girl who'd picked up the trays. "Now, what did I say was going to happen to the last slut to start eating, cunt?"

"You would punish her, Sir'

"And which slut hesitated about eating like a good slave?"

"I...this slut did, Sir."

"So what is going to happen to this slut?"

"You are going to punish this slut, Sir."

"Very good, cunt. Follow me. The rest of you, crawl over in a line after us."

Kristin turned to follow minou as they crawled towards one of the terrifying things on the wall. This one looked like a black sawhorse with some metal attachments.

"There are old marks on the floor, sluts. Line up on them. Good. Now, cunt, stand up. All right, I want you to straddle the bench. Face that way. Get lined up with the legs."

He clipped the girl's wrists and ankles to metal attachments on the legs of the sawhorse, adjusting slightly to ensure tautness, then strapped a belt around her waist and attached her collar to a clip at the end so she was immobilized. 

"I could also put these straps around your arms and thighs, but you're going to be a good girl and not buck, right cunt?"

"Yes Sir." The girl's voice was high-pitched with terror.

"Now, for a quick illustration of principle. Any time I beat you, shock you, or hurt you, I'm doing it as a reminder. Punishments for a slave are removal of privileges, and I assure you that though you may think otherwise, there are privileges you have now that I have yet to take. cunt here just needs a reminder that when I say something, I mean it. Sometimes I will beat or hurt you as a reminder I can. So, cunt, what did you forget?"

"This slut forgot you mean what you say, Sir."

"And this slut will remember after, or this slut will find out what life is like with even less privileges."

"Yes, Sir."

The trainer removed a small flexible black rod with a leather flap on one end from its place on the wall. "I'm going to remind you with my riding crop. I have a lot of things to remind you with, and this is one of the milder ones. You've earned twenty-five strokes with it, cunt. Count off like minou did yesterday. Remember what minou did yesterday, cunt?"


"Yes, Sir."

He popped her lightly with the leather flap on one buttock, and her pale skin reddened immediately. 

"One! Thank you Sir!" Her enunciation was perfect even though her voice had a pitch of terror to it.

"Just like that. If you don't sound off like that, I'll make you count again."

The first ten strokes to alternating buttocks were done with the end of the crop, and the girl called cunt sounded off sharply to each. The eleventh slapped much harder, and she yelped with surprise before saying "Eleven! Thank you Sir!" Twelve through fourteen came with the same intense pop and cunt gritted her teeth as she counted off each. Fifteen was the shaft of the crop across the center of both buttocks, and cunt sobbed instead of counting.

"I don't hear you, cunt. Let's try that again." He struck her again in exactly the same way, and cunt managed to say "Fifteen! Thank you Sir!" even though her eyes began to stream with tears. Sixteen through nineteen struck with the shaft above and below the first mark, and cunt continued to cry as she counted off. Twenty was with the end again, but to her exposed pubic mound instead of her buttocks. The crying girl sounded off without hesitation this time, and the next one came in the same spot, then two more on either side of it, and one square on her clitoris which caused her sobbing to intensify, but she still managed to get out a "Twenty-four, Thankyou Sir!" He paused a beat or two from the rhythm he'd established, then the last struck in reverse onto her vagina again with the shaft between her buttocks, making contact with her tightly puckered anus. "Twenty-five!" she managed to say, but her throat closed and she couldn't spit the rest out. "Catch your breath, cunt. I want to hear it right." The girl took two deep more sobbing breaths, and he struck the shaft directly onto her anus again, to which she managed to count "Twenty-five! Thank you, Sir!"

"Good girl, cunt," the trainer said, returning the crop to the wall and taking a bottle of lotion from the short-haired girl, who once again had silently appeared out of nowhere. He applied the lotion gently to her reddened buttocks, then deliberately to her pubic mound and between her ass. Kristin noticed the girl bound to the bench pushing back slightly against the pressure of his hand with some dismay. Dismay at seeing her peer humiliated, and dismay at her own arousal and twinge of jealousy at the sight. The trainer unclipped cunt after applying the lotion helped her stand up gently.

"All right, cunt. Back on your knees. Crawl over and take your place beside tits. We've got another reminder that needs to be given right now. doll! Get your ass over here!"



Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 11



Kristin's stomach flipped when the trainer called her over. She'd done her best to be obedient and unobtrusive, but somehow she'd failed and drawn the attention of the man who held so much power over her. Something in the back of her mind said that being spanked in front of the other girls couldn't be that bad, but her body didn't believe it, and her palms sweated and her heart pounded anyway as she crawled over to him.

"Up on your knees. Boxed arms. Face them. Now, doll, we need to discuss last night."

Last night? What had she done last night? She'd done exactly what he said and hadn't heard any complaint from him until he put her in her cell. And what could she have done wrong in there?

"While you have done an acceptable job of learning your place as a sexual object, it must be emphasized that your are a sexual object for whoever is in charge of you. At this stage of your training, that someone is me. And I did not give you permission to rub your slutty little cunt last night."

Kristin felt a dropping sensation and flushed hot from her head to her toes. Even alone in her cell she wasn't safe. Her behavior was under constant scrutiny and everything was subject to control. Her body was, in the very realest sense, not hers at all.

"This goes for all you horny little sluts. No rubbing yourselves off. That's selfish, and no one wants to see a slut being selfish. If your owner wants a show, then you give him a show, but until then you touch only with permission, or are touched your owner or whoever he wants to touch you. No fucking yourselves with whatever you find around your cells. I've had desperate little girls do it with all kinds of things, and it's dangerous and unhealthy. All three of your holes will be filled with appropriate objects at appropriate times in your training, and I don't care just how much you want them filled now. Squirming, tits? Want something stuffed in you? And yes, sluts, I know about the humping the rolled up blanket trick. You have to be a very stealthy humper to get away with that one. All that's going to happen is you'll lose blanket privileges, and slaves who train hard need their sleep. Tell me, doll, what did you do last night that you now know you shouldn't?"

"I touched myself, Sir."

"I?"

"This slave touched herself, Sir."

"Itself. You're an object, not a person."

"This slave touched itself, Sir."

"Touched what part of itself, doll? Be specific."

"This slave touched its...pussy..Sir."

"Let's go with 'cunt'. Nice girls have pussies. Dirty little slave sluts have cunts. And are cunts, but that's someone's name and we don't want to confuse her, do we cunt?"

"No Sir. This slave touched its cunt."

"And why did this slave do such a thing?"

"I...this slave...habit, Sir."

"This slave makes such a practice of rubbing its drippy little cunt that it can't help itself?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Well, that's a habit we'll have to break, isn't it, doll?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Remember how I made lilly show off her third fuckhole yesterday, doll?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Lean back, knees far apart, hands by your ankles."

Kristin thought her shame couldn't get any worse than it had admitting what she'd done, but leaning back with her pussy, or as he called it, her cunt, exposed felt even worse. She was almost used to being naked and on display, but this was something more and something worse, like being reduced to nothing more than her most intimate parts on display. The trainer clipped her wrists to her ankles and snapped a bar of some kind to each ankle cuff so she couldn't move them together.

"Keep those knees apart, doll. If you close them at all, I start over. Count off."

Kristin couldn't quite see him for her leaned-back vantage, but she felt the end of the crop as it slapped down on her exposed pubic mound, stinging worse than she'd imagined. From the part of her that had managed to confess to touching despite her shame, she managed to draw out a "One! Thank you Sir!"

The crop slapped her again, right next to where the first blow had landed. "Two! Thank you Sir!" The strain of holding the leaned-back position hurt almost as bad as the sting of the crop, and she found that focusing on that dull steady pain took some of her attention off the sting of the crop and the burning where it had impacted.

The third struck her clitoris, and the sting of that couldn't be ignored. Kristin felt her eyes begin to tear up, but managed to spit out a "Three! Thank you Sir!"

The fourth and fifth struck in quick succession, right where the first two had landed. Kristin could barely keep up, but still managed to say "Four thank you Sir five thank you Sir!" through a veil of tears.

The pause before the sixth was just a bit longer than the other pauses had been, but it felt like an eternity to Kristin. When it came, it landed dead center between the first two impact sites. Kristin nearly choked on a sob, but managed to spit out "Six, thank you Sir!"

The seventh and eighth were slightly lower than the first two had been, introducing new stinging and burning, but Kristin managed to sound off for them, and for the nineth, which landed near the site of the first.

The tenth was to the clitoris again, and shocked Kristin harder than the first time, since she'd been expecting the pattern to be kept up. Through gritted teeth and with streaming eyes, she said "Ten, thank you Sir!"

"Good job, doll. Didn't miss one. Now hold still while I get you unclipped. I want you to lie on your back, knees up and apart. There you go. tits, get up here! Lotion her up for me!"

Kristin whimpered a bit at the thought. Somehow the thought of the trainer's gentle touch and congratulatory words felt like it would soothe her pain quite a bit, but having another girl do it just felt insulting. She raised a hand to her mouth to hide the sobbing that she couldn't hold back.

"Keep them on the floor by your side, doll. There you go."

Kristin felt the cool hand of the girl called tits as it gently applied lotion to her stinging vagina.

"Come on, tits, it isn't going to bite. Get that lotion everywhere I reddened. Better. Touch it like you mean it. You're going to be touching plenty of cunts, believe you me. You know your owner might not be male, right? And even if he is, he might want to see a show. Thats too much lotion, tits. doll is a sloppy enough mess without you adding. Wipe it up."

Kristin felt herself squirming at the hand rubbing her crotch despite her pain, and despite the fact that she obviously wasn't interested in girls. It was one thing to be reacting this way to a handsome man touching her, even if he was some kind of sociopathic monster, but a girl's hand shouldn't get her so turned on. But turned on she was. Not enough that she couldn't hide it, that had only happened a few mortifying times before, but undeniably turned on.

"Good job, tits. Up on your knees, don't go anywhere. Let me check something, doll."

The man knelt down beside Kristin and inserted one finger in her undeniably wet vagina. So there was no hiding it, then. She felt like she'd been continually blushing since he called her up, but somehow she felt herself getting even hotter and darker. Or maybe the hot feeling was sexual arousal? She didn't even know anymore, and hated herself for it.

"Well look at this. What's got you so hot, doll? Are you a masochist? Or just like a pretty girl with big tits touching you? What do you think, tits? Has she got the hots for you?"

"Don't know, Sir!" The girl called tits sounded nearly as embarrassed as Kristin, thank God. Kristin imagined the girl's tone being scornful or disgusted instead.

"Well, doll? What is it?"

"Sir..." was all Kristin could manage.

"I don't expect you know, doll. But I'll have my eye on you. Up on your knees. Next to tits. What about you, tits? Did touching her get you all fired up? A little, I see. Not as much as doll, though. All right, both of you, back in place."

As she returned to the line, Kristin's shame continued to burn. She'd never been so embarrassed. And, to make it a million times worse, she'd never been more turned on.

Kristin crawled back to her place in line, trying but mostly failing not to cry. The shame of being beaten and humiliated burned worse than anything she could remember. Worst of all, her body had betrayed her again. Everything her trainer had said about her being nothing but a sexual plaything completely at the mercy of her...her cunt had been proven true. She felt with a strange mixture of dread and arousal that he'd only begun to humiliate her, too, and that her body would continue to betray her as he did worse and worse things to her.

Tears streamed down her face as she assumed the kneeling position with boxed arms again. It was all she could do to keep from breaking down into a sobbing mess right there, and she barely heard her trainer's voice as he said "All fours, turn right. Follow me, cunt. The rest of you, follow." Out of the corner of her eye she saw minou moving and did the same in a zombie-like daze, crawling back to the familiar semicircle in the center of the room.

"Dry your eyes, sluts. Crying distracts from training. If you want to cry, they can squeeze all the tears out of you downstairs, but I know that you'd rather be good girls for me right here, wouldn't you?"

His tone was gentle and comforting again, but somehow it just made Kristin cry harder. She realized now that she wasn't the only one, and that the girls on either side of her were crying, as were cunt and tits.

"All right, I want each of you to relax for a minute. My lovely assistant is going to bring you a damp rag, and you're going to get yourselves together and then wipe the tears and snot off your face before we get back to training."

The short-haired girl came by with a rough damp washcloth as promised, and Kristin took a few deep breaths and managed to compose herself. She may have shown weakness by being unable to resist his touch, but she wouldn't break down. She would be herself, not the desperate slutty sex slave he wanted her to be. She would find the strength to resist mentally even if her body was at his mercy. She wouldn't cry, and she wouldn't break. If she was going to be trained to be a sex slave, there was no way around that, but she could stay Kristin and not be whatever he was trying to mold her into. She could silently bear the humiliation, the indignity, and the sexual abuse, and stay strong enough to find her way out.



Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 12



Kristin wiped her face clean. She may have been red-eyed and puffy-faced, but she no longer felt like she was burning up with shame and the gnawing was gone from the pit of her stomach. She was strong. She would be proud even through indignity.

The girl assistant returned again, collecting her rag, and Kristin resumed her boxed arm position.

"Relax, sluts. Hands on thighs. Just listen carefully. We are going to do a quick position review." The assistant appeared and knelt beside the trainer, completely nude now, just like Kristin and her peers except for her close-cropped hair.

"Positions can be done either from the knees or from standing. We'll start with the kneeling ones, since you still haven't earned hind legs privileges. Remember, sluts, when in doubt, be on your knees and off the furniture.

"First position you know. It's the boxed arms Attention position. At Attention, your arms are boxed behind you, your back is straight, your eyes are straight forward, knees slightly apart. I will call each command, she will do it, then I will call it again and you will imitate her. You're already at attention, but I want you to observe her and tighten up. Arms square, cunt. Head up, tits. Stick those knockers out. Eyes straight forward, minou. No looking down. Good job, doll. Straighten your back, lilly. Very good. Look like statues, slaves. Pretty, decorative statues.

"And now we have Display, which you've also learned. Wait for the command lilly, what did I just tell you? In the Display position, your knees are slightly more than shoulder width apart. Hands behind your head, eyes forward, back straight. Display. See her, girls? Now you do the same. Display, sluts. Elbows back, cunt. You're not just resting your hands on your head, they're intertwined behind your head. Get those elbows back and stick those tits out. Good job, tits. I won't tell you to lift your eyes again, minou. Keep your back straight. Elbows back, doll. Show off the goods. Good job, lilly. 

"Back to Attention. Smoothly, no hesitation. Let's try this again. Display, sluts. Attention. Very good.

"Thirdly, there's Present, which lilly demonstrated to you already. From your knees, you bend forward, place your right cheek on the ground. Knees slightly more than shoulder width apart. Reach back and spread your ass. Stick your holes in the air with no shame. Turn around, slut. Present. See, slaves? Her ass is right there to be inspected or used. Now all of you turn around. Keep your arms boxed, scoot around in incremental steps. Present, slaves.

"Ass up, cunt. Let's see that cute little pink hole. Cheeks further apart, tits. Don't just put your hands on them, spread them. Good job, minou. Keep that cheek flat on the ground, doll. Ass up, lilly. Don't jump, I just touched you. You should expect to have your tight little fuckhole touched or more if it's out in the open like that, shouldn't you? What are you moving for, doll? Did I touch you? Oh, I know, you want me to. Dirty little slut. Don't anticipate it. Attention. Turn back around. Don't look so disappointed, cunt, I'll be touching your ass soon enough.

"There's one more position lilly showed you yesterday, and that's Lean Back. doll showed us that one today, didn't you, doll? Knees wide apart, arch your back, put your wrists by your ankles. Lean Back. Look how that back arches, sluts. Make a bow of yourself. Lean back, slaves. Tits in the air, cunt. Move your wrists back a bit, tits. There we go. Now we can get at that hole, can't we? Good job, minou. Knees further apart, doll. You still sore there? Too bad. Make a bow, lilly. Better. Back to attention. 

"So now we've gone over the positions you learned already. Let's do a quick review. Attention. Display. Tighten up there, tits. Present. Don't turn around, doll, did I tell you to do that? Back to display, that means all of you, lilly. Now present. Better. Attention. Lean back. You're too tense, minou, you're shaking. Hold the bow and relax. There you go. Attention.

"At some point you're going to learn a form where you show all three holes using these positions like lilly did yesterday, but you've got to crawl before you walk. Now, I've got three more positions to teach from the knees, but right now I'll show you the command to Relax. When you're kneeling and I say Relax, put your knees almost together like they are now, rest your palms on your thighs, and cast your eyes and head downward. You can relax your back, but hold still. Relax. Not all of you, doll. Anticipate my command again and I'll belt your tits. Now look at her. Your hair is going to fall forward, which her hair is too short to. Just let it fall over your face. Relax, sluts. Excellent position. Now you can actually relax just a bit. You're all doing very well. Take a minute and get those muscles loose and that breathing calm. Three more positions from the knees."

Drilling positions was strangely soothing for Kristin in the same way that the yoga workout had been. She could shut off her mind and focus on her body's movements. The trainer's corrections were firm but not harsh, and she felt a warm little glow of pleasure every time he praised her for doing it right. An angry little thing in the back of her mind nagged that she shouldn't be happy to please the monster who had imprisoned and was brainwashing her, but she was paying too much attention to getting her positions exactly right to acknowledge it.

The girl with cropped hair in front of her had moved with a fluidity and grace that Kristin envied, and she could see muscles under the skin like a dancer's. Kristin wondered if she had been a dancer or gymnast before being kidnapped or if she'd been trained to move so elegantly. Her conscience chided her for being jealous of the shorn and wretched creature. After all, what was to admire about being a completely broken sex slave? Her physical finesse wasn't an achievement to be proud of, but an asset based upon which she could bring more money on the auction block.

"Attention, sluts. I promised you three more kneeling positions. You'll just be briefly introduced to these, we won't focus on you knowing them until you've perfected the five basic ones.

"First, we have Worship. You've seen this one, but she's going to show you again. Watch for now, then on my command. Worship. As you can see, she's leaned all the way forward with her stomach against her thighs and her arms outstretched, face down. Reach is the key to doing this one elegantly. Reach out as far as you can. Leave some space so I can fit my boot in and you can worship that.

"Worship, sluts. Reach. Don't stick your ass so high in the air on this one, lilly. You're not showing off your holes. Want me to come poke your ass again? This position is about lowering yourself and worshiping your owner like the god he or she is to you. I'm going to come by and check every one of you, and if you please me, I'll grant you the privilege of licking my boots. After I let you, you'd better remember to thank me.

"Head down, cunt. You can rest your forehead on the ground, you don't have to be all stiff-necked like that. Good. Now you've already licked my right boot, so you can have the left one this time. Get that tongue all the way out. Lick it like you love it."

Kristin's forehead was on the ground as directed, so she couldn't see the action, but she could hear the girl called "cunt" say "Thank you, Sir." She shuddered a bit at the thought of having to not only lick his filthy boot while being verbally abused, but thanking him for it.

"Looking good there, tits. Reach a bit more. Hard to get your head down with those fun bags holding you up, isn't it? Not just the tip of your tongue, slut. Get it out there and lick it like you mean it. Lick it like pleasing me is the most important thing in your life, because believe me, it is. There we go. Get into it. Good girl."

Another "Thank you, Sir" and his footsteps moved on down the line. Kristin shook as she tried to hold her position. She'd never been the most germ-phobic person, but the thought of licking a boot covered in God knows what made her feel panicky.

"Reach, minou. Get those arms out there. Palms down, fingers together. Butt doesn't have to be up like that, you're not begging to be fucked up there right now. Or at least I didn't tell you to, I'm sure you want it, you dirty little slut. There it is. Make room, minou. I've got to get a boot in there. I'm not going to tell you twice. Good, but lick it like you mean it."

Kristin heard his boots soles scraping on the cement as he removed his foot from minou's face. The girl squeaked out a "Thank you Sir" that was barely audible.

"Can't hear you, minou."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Worshipping my boots is a privilege, isn't it, slut?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Everything is a privilege. Don't forget that. And privileges can be taken away."

Kristin heard the footsteps. She was next. She reached out a bit more to make her position flawless and felt a strange crawly dread take hold of the pit of her stomach. Rationally, she knew licking a boot was very unlikely to hurt her in any way, but some primal instinct screamed at her how disgusting it was while that nagging voice in the back of her head told her that debasing herself in this way meant extinguishing what self-respect she had after being stripped naked, molested, forced to crawl, and beaten. But what could she do? Saying no hardly seemed like an option. Getting up and running was certainly out of the question. All she could do was what she was told, regardless of how much she hated it.

"Your feet are funny, doll. Point your toes out. There you go. Good reach. I'm feeling worshipped."

Kristin felt something push way too close to her face and realized her eyes had been closed. She opened them to see her field of vision filled with the black laces of his boot, with its polished black toe directly under her nose and mouth. It wasn't dirty at all, though it was a bit slick with the spit of the other girls who'd licked it before her. That was gross and distressing, but not in the same way the idea of dirty boots were. It was just like kissing, sort of. Kissing another girl. Another girl who was actually a boot. But it was silly to think that human saliva was disgusting, right? The girls were all healthy and had bloodwork done, like Kristin. The boots had the slight chemical smell of shoe polish which she recognized from her grandfather's barber shop. It wasn't really the sort of smell that you'd want to lick, but it was at least a comforting one. 

Kristin's tongue tentatively darted out of her mouth and touched a relatively spit-free spot on the boot's toe. Remembering his instructions to the other girls, she extended her tongue more, gingerly running the side alongside his boot. 

"Lap it up like it's food in your dish, doll."

Kristin burned with embarrassment at the reminder of her previous humiliation, but obediently ran her tongue squarely along the boot toe in a lapping motion. Somehow the hot tight-stomached feeling made it easier to debase herself further, which of course only compounded it.

"That's the way you worship my boot, slut. Now thank me."

Kristin had retreated deep inside herself and felt her voice a million miles away saying "Thank you, Sir."

"Any time, doll. I'm sure I'll let you do this again."

The boot withdrew and he moved on. Kristin's cheeks burned even hotter than they had as she felt the wetness on her thighs.



Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 13



If there was anything more shameful than eagerly licking the boot of the man whose job was to break her into a compliant sex slave, it was getting turned on by her own degradation. The little spot of anger in Kristin's mind burned brighter as lilly took her turn licking the trainer's boot. She had to fight back somehow, because at this rate there was no humiliation she wouldn't happily endure on her way to losing her identity and being sold as a slave.

What was the worst that could happen? She'd get chided and maybe belted? She didn't care what he thought and could endure the pain. The people controlling her may have been ruthless criminals, but she was valuable to them and there was no way they would seriously hurt or kill her. Take a few meals, have the scary lady who took charge of her before do something to her, beat her for a while, any of those things could be endured for the sake of her pride. The girls were just obeying him reflexively because they didn't know what else to do and he was acting in control and powerful. Resistance was an option, he just hadn't given them time to think about it.

None of this really came close to being a plan, and Kristin knew that relying on the mercy of people willing to kidnap girls in the U.S. and ship them to God knows where with the intent of selling them wasn't very safe, but her anger had at least taken some kind of form. All she had to do was test him. A small act of defiance would be all it would take to preserve her dignity and establish some basic independence. He was surely being evaluated on how smoothly he got the program done, surely he'd be willing to give her some space for the sake of getting things done and moving her on to the next step.

"Two more kneeling positions, sluts, and then we'll review again. First, it's nadu. That's a silly name from a bad sci-fi book, but a lovely position to see property in. Watch this slave. Nadu. 

"Observe, slaves. She's kneeling, knees far apart. Ass rests on her feet, hands rest on thighs, palms up. Her eyes are forward. On my command, get like her. Nadu, sluts.

"Eyes forward, cunt, not down. Back straighter, tits. Stick those fun bags out for me. Get your arms more parallel with your thighs, minou. Your hands should be pointing the same way as your knees. Good. Eyes forward, doll. I said eyes forward."

This was it, then. Keep her eyes down and see what he did. Kristin's heart pounded with fear. Would he just move on? Would he get angry? Would he spank her first?

"Good nadu, lilly. All of you but doll, relax. doll, we're going to do a little extra training."

He leaned down and whispered to the girl next to him, who scampered away out of Kristin's field of vision. Then he strode slowly and purposefully over to her. She shook, but kept her eyes down as he towered over her. No squatting to speak gently this time.

"I know you're not stupid, doll, and the doctor assures me you don't have a hearing problem, so we're going to help you keep eyes up. Remember everything is a privilege? Right now, all these other sluts have earned the privilege of lifting or lowering their eyes on their own. You've lost yours."

Kristin dug her chin into her chest, her ears roaring with blood. Keep the eyes down. This little defiance had to be held onto or she risked losing everything. The short-haired assistant girl reappeared, handing something to the trainer, who walked behind Kristin. He pushed a thumb between her ear and jaw almost delicately, causing her head to rise involuntarily, just enough for him to fit a hospital-style cervical collar around her neck and over her leather collar. Try as she might to push her head back down, Kristin's eyes were fixed forward now. 

While still squatting behind her, the trainer whispered just loud enough for her to hear. "One strike, doll. This isn't baseball. Two strikes and you're out. Downstairs to where you can remember that even being allowed to eat, sleep, and not be in agonizing pain is a privilege. I train good girls, and you don't want to find out what happens to bad girls."

Kristin couldn't even find the will to fight. The worst part of it was that his smirking expression had never slipped and he'd dealt with her defiance just like he'd corrected minor discrepancies. She held the humiliating nadu position just as she'd been ordered, not like she could help looking forward. The humiliation and helplessness that had washed over her before came on twice as strong now. At least before she'd been just one of the five girls, but now she was singled out. And any further defiance, no matter how slight, meant a trip "downstairs", which she resolved she was not going to make. This was it, then. Obedience was the only way forward.

Back at the front, the trainer continued. "All right, sluts. One more position from your knees. As before, she'll do it and then you will. This one is more about how you get into it, so watch closely. The command is Back.

"Back. Observe how she plants her right hand, kicks her legs out, and leans back gracefully. While on her back, her arms are slightly away from her side, palms up, and her feet and knees are slightly apart. I can give other commands from here, but the important thing is getting on your back and getting up smoothly and gracefully.

"On your knees. Once again she bases on her right hand and swings her knees around to the left to get under them. The left hand is out just enough for balance. Smooth and graceful. Now watch one more time, sluts. Back. Relax.

"Now you do it. Back. Not bad. It shouldn't be any harder in that collar, doll. Relax. One more time. Back. Now let me inspect.

"Palms up, cunt. A bit further from your sides, tits. Not that far. Looking good, minou. Feet a bit further apart, doll. Palms up, lilly. There you go. All right, sluts, that was easy. Now on your knees. Smooth and graceful. That's it."

The trainer was correct that the collar hadn't made switching positions that much harder, not that it made Kristin any less humiliated. Being an anonymous part of the group was much easier than being singled out in any way.

"Last position, sluts. This is one you'll see more of later in your training, just wanted to introduce it to you. Since, of course, you're training to be pets, you should act like good little pets. Just to remind you that you're nothing but domestic animals, sometimes I'll tell you to Sit. Watch, sluts.

"Sit. Knees apart, paws on the ground between them. Relax. Now you do it, sluts. Sit."

Kristin might have found sitting like a dog humiliating if there was any more humiliation left for her, but at this point, naked and wearing a posture collar, she was just numb. She robotically assumed the position and accepted his curt nod in a sort of fog.

"All right, sluts, I don't want to overwhelm your little heads right now. That's a lot of positions, but all I care about is the first four I taught you. Let's go through them again. Display. Elbows back, lilly. Good job keeping that head up, doll, though it's not like you have a choice, is it. Present. Smoothly, sluts, smoothly. Relax. Present. Much better. minou doesn't look like she's falling off a chair this time. Relax. Attention. Display. Better. Present. Smoothly, doll. Relax. Present. Much better this time. 

"On my command, get on all fours and face the slut to your right. lilly, face the door to your cages. All Fours. Wait for my command."

Kristin heard his footsteps coming over to her and his hands removing the cervical collar from her neck. "I won't be needing this collar anymore, doll, because I'm sure you're going to remember this isn't a game."

And of course she knew. How could she forget?



Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 14



For those interested in training slave positions like Kristin learned, here is a guide. If you're familiar with other slave position systems, you'll notice they tend to have 10 or so numbered positions.. Ten or twelve is about the ideal number to remember, and I use a few more, but I break them into four short sequences instead.

A. Basic positions (used both standing and kneeling.

A1. Attention

A2. Display

A3. Present

A4. Relax 

B. From the knees

B1. Worship

B2. Nadu

B3. Lean Back

B4. Sit

C. All Fours

C1. All Fours

C2. Table

C3. Ass Up

C4. Belly

D. Standing

D1. Bend Over

D2. Squat

D3. Wall

E. Puppy positions

E1. Sit

E2. Beg

This way, when you're drilling positions, you drill them in groups rather than having to do 20 positions. For trainers or for subs drilling on your own, you can run through the basic positions either standing on the knees. More advanced students can run through a set of 7-8 positions by doing first the basic positions and then the kneeling/all fours/standing positions.

So your basic sequence runs:

Attention - Display - Present - Relax

You can do this either from the knees or standing. Run through it over and over again until they all look right, then one more time for good measure.

And the more advanced sequences are: 

(Kneeling) Attention - Display - Present - Worship - Lean Back - Nadu - Relax

(All Fours) (Use the basic kneeling positions) Attention - Display - Present - All Fours - Table - Ass Up - Belly - Relax

(Standing) Attention - Display - Present - Bend Over - Squat - Wall - Relax

(Puppy) Attention - Display - Present - Sit - Beg - Roll Over (Back) - Relax

Positions in detail:

A. Basic Positions

A1. Attention

At Attention, your arms are boxed behind you with each hand gripping the opposite tricep, your back is straight, your eyes are straight forward, feet or knees shoulder width apart.

A2. Display

Feet or knees shoulder width apart. Place your hands behind your head with fingers interlaced, back straight with your eyes looking straight ahead.

A3. Present

Bend forward at the waist as far as possible, feet shoulder width apart, reaching back and spreading your ass so as to display your cunt and asshole. From the knees, your right cheek rests on the ground.

A4. Relax

Feet or knees slightly apart. Hands on thighs, eyes downward. Ass resting on heels if kneeling.

B. Kneeling positions

B1. Worship

Lean all the way forward with stomach against thighs and arms outstretched, face down. Reach arms out with palms down. This position is a way for a slave to formally greet its owner.

B2. Lean Back

Knees wide apart, arch your back, put your wrists by your ankles. Displays the cunt and makes it available for torture.

B3. Nadu

Kneel, knees far apart. Ass rests on her feet, hands rest on thighs, palms up. Head up and eyes forward.

B4. Back

On the back. Arms are slightly away from sides, palms up, and feet and knees are slightly apart. To get there, plant right hand, kick the legs out, and lean back gracefully. I can give other commands from here, but the important thing is getting on your back and getting up smoothly and gracefully.

C. All Fours Positions

C1. All Fours

Hands and knees on ground, back straight, eyes straight forward. This is the basic attention/relax position on all fours.

C2. Table

Elbows on ground, body low and flat as possible. Allows the cunt to serve as a table or footrest.

C3. Ass Up

Hands and toes on the ground, feet wide apart, ass in the air. A position for punishment or endurance.

C4. Belly

Flat on the belly, arms overhead straight out

D. Standing Positions

Quick note. When on all fours or kneeling, the slave will not stand unless it hears "On Your Feet", in which case it stands at Attention

If it is ordered to move, it does so on all fours.

D1. Bend Over

Feet shoulder width apart, grab ankles. A punishment position.

D2. Squat

Squat on toes as low as possible with hands on head. An endurance position.

D3. Wall

Hands above the head and on the wall, nose against the wall, feet shoulder width apart and about a foot back. A punishment position. Corner time is different from Wall, that will usually be at Attention, sometimes with hands on head.

E. Puppy positions

E1. Sit

Down on the knees, as in Relax. Palms are on the floor between the knees.

E2. Beg

Upright on the knees with back straight, paws up but hanging with elbows bent.

Besides the basic forms mentioned earlier, intended to introduce slaves to all the positions, there are other forms designed to drill transitions or simply for showing off a slave's grace and discipline. The following form is done by a slave or group of slaves on the command "Show off your holes". No other commands are needed, the slave flows through them gracefully on receiving the command:

Display - Present - Lean Back - All fours - Nadu

Slave positions can also be trained in yoga style if you've ever tried that:

Start with Attention, following into Display. Then from Display, kneel into Worship, Nadu, then finishing with Sit. Repeat 10 times and on the 10th, from Sit finish with Present to end. It would definitely be hard on muscles and require focused breathing. 

(Attention - Display - Worship - Nadu - Sit)



Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 15



On all fours facing lily, Kristin felt a bit dazed. Her normally busy mind was overwhelmed by the relentless pace of her training and correction. A few moments to think, and she'd figure something out. For now, just keep her head down and obey.

"Get close to the slut in front of you, slaves. A little less than arm's length away. Make a straight line. Don't move, lily. A little closer, cunt. Not that close, unless you really feel like giving tits a good lick. Good girls. Now follow me, lily."

Kristin felt her knees and palms scrape along the rough concrete floor as she crawled behind lily.

"All right, sluts. Now you're going to be introduced to positions on our feet. You all know Attention on your knees. When I say 'on your feet', stand up gracefully, right knee up first, and into Attention.

"On your feet. Gracefully, minou. Smooth and disciplined, that's the name of the game. Box those arms tight, doll. On your knees. All together. Don't look surprised, cunt. Into Attention, lily. That means your back is straight. Hold still. On your feet. Slowly, tits. Don't bounce up. With those knockers you'll probably give yourself a black eye bouncing around. One more time. On your knees. I said together, sluts. On your feet. Better. On your knees. Acceptable for now. Think smooth and disciplined. On your feet. Good. Now, when a slave walks at attention, arms stay boxed, eyes stay straight forward, back stays straight. Smooth and disciplined."

"Eyes forward, minou. doll has learned to stop swiveling her head everywhere, so I know you can do it. Do you need blinders, like a horse? I'm sure I can find some. Everyone turn 90 degrees to your left and look at me. Stay at Attention.

Kristin turned and saw the trainer, his bag over his shoulder, and his short-haired assistant, standing at Attention. He pulled a small paperback book out of his bag and placed it on her head.

"Ten paces forward, about face, back to me."

The girl moved forward with the smoothness and grace Kristin envied, pivoted elegantly, and took ten paces back to exactly where she'd been. The book on her head never jostled. 

"On your knees."

Her back never changed angle as she went down, and the book never shifted a millimeter.

"On your feet. Turn 90 degrees and face them."

Again the book didn't move as she rose and turned fluidly. Kristin noticed for the first time that she had bars through both nipples, a glimmer of silver on her pubic mound, and a barely noticeable crescent in her septum, as well as tiny sapphires in her navel, nostril and earlobes.

"You'll be doing a lot of book drills, sluts. I just wanted you to see the model for how a slave moves. You'll drill until you move just like her before you move upstairs. Now we'll practice walking. Turn 90 degrees right on my command. Turn. Follow her on my command, lily. Forward."

Kristin shuffled forward, her eyes on lily and the girl leading them. She wondered if the short-haired girl had been kidnapped like her, or if she was another trainer. But then why was she naked? And he'd clearly referred to her as a slave. She must be a more advanced pupil. What was moving "upstairs"? He'd mentioned going "downstairs" to some kind of torture chamber as a punishment. This girl hadn't gone "upstairs" even though she'd apparently graduated from whatever evaluation Kristin and the others were going through.

"Don't sway, minou. The book would be on the ground if I put one on you. You're not on a runway, cunt, feet straight forward. A slave never crosses its legs, even walking."

Kristin tried to keep the invisible book on her head and keep her head straight as she walked in a circle around the room. It was surprisingly easy if she held her back perfectly rigid, which caused the muscles on the side of her stomach to twinge a bit with a reminder of the morning's workouts. Of course, this must be what the workout program was designed to build, a body capable of what was expected of a slave, like the short-haired girl who moved like a cat.

"Looking better, sluts. Now stop. Turn 90 degrees right on my command. Face right. Elegantly, slaves. You wouldn't want to drop the book. When I give you a face command, put your right foot on its toes behind you and pivot on it. Face left. Face right. Better. We'll work on it. Now take a look at the wall."

Attached to a long board bolted to the wall were five rubber penises. Kristin was reasonably sure they hadn't been there before. All were different sizes and shapes, a couple peach colored, one dark brown, one black, and one translucent purple.

"I promised you that all of you are to be three hole sluts, and this is the first of your holes that we're going to work on training. On your knees. Don't hesitate, minou. When I give a command, I want to see all of you execute in sync. On your feet. Better. On your knees. Not perfect yet.

"Yesterday, we discussed a slave's three holes. What's the first one we talked about, cunt?"

The girl hesitated a moment. "My mouth, Sir?"

"Correct hole, slut, but wrong grammar. It's not your mouth, it's your future owner's. Say 'a slave's mouth.""

"A slave's mouth, Sir?"

"Are you asking me, slave?"

"No, Sir."

"Then say it like I taught you."

"A slave's mouth, Sir."

"What is a slave's mouth for, tits?"

"For..fucking, Sir."

"Excellent, tits. It can make sounds too, but that's not what it's there for. What is a slave's second fuckhole, minou?"

"I...this slave...don't remember, Sir."

"Is that so? minou and minou only, Present. Cheek flat on the floor. Now what hole am I touching, minou?"

"Ass, Sir."

"And it's puckered tight, too. When a slave's ass is properly trained, it will relax and be accommodating, because it's there to be fucked. Let's rub it to remind it what's it's for. There we go. Doesn't that finger in there feel good?"

The girl's voice sounded tight and very far away. "Yes, Sir."

"I know it does, minou, because your ass never lies, and this ass is begging to be fucked right now. But not yet. Back to Attention. Good girl. You're getting a little shaky on the knees there, doll. Want your ass fucked?"

Kristin's flushed feeling was something beyond arousal and something beyond embarrassment, and she didn't even know why she said "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl, doll. That's what a slave's answer should always be. Unfortunately your tight little ass is going to have to wait for a nice man to buy it, but until then it's going to enjoy being trained. What's a slave's least important hole, lily?"

Beside her, Kristin heard nothing but lily's familiar sobbing.

"Dry your eyes, little girl. Don't make me give you something to be sad about. You look prettier eager like doll, not crying like that. We named the other two holes. What's the least important one?"

"Cunt, Sir."

"That is correct, lily. That drippy little hole may completely control you and your thoughts, but it's the least important. You exist to please your owners, not to be pleased yourself. Present, lily. That looked like a snake falling out of a tree. Back to Attention. Smoothly. Present. Better. Now beg me to fuck you up the ass."

lily was nearly choked with tears, but "Please fuck me up the ass, Sir" came out.

"Grammar, lily. 'please use this slave's ass'."

"Please use this slave's ass, Sir."

"Maybe some other time, lily. Back to Attention. Now that you've all been reminded what you're for, I'm going to teach you how to use that first hole. All fours. Now crawl on over there and meet Mr. Johnson."

Kristin's "Mr. Johnson" was shorter, light flesh-colored, and very thick. While she had very little practical experience with penises, she was reasonably certain that they were usually smaller than a Coke can. She might not have so readily said she wanted to be fucked up the ass if she'd been thinking of a monster like this. Did she really want to be fucked up the ass? The answer had been reflexive. Was she just being agreeable? Or was her body betraying her pride that profoundly?

"There's a lot involved in wooing a penis, getting it ready to use your holes, and all that. For now, we're mostly focusing on the mechanics. First, nicely ask Mr. Johnson to use that fuckhole. One at a time, lily first."

lily squeaked a bit of confusion but didn't form words.

"Say 'Please use this slave's fuckhole, Mr. Johnson, Sir'."

"Please use this slave's fuckhole, Mr. Johnson, Sir."

"I'm not convinced you're desperate, lily. Imagine you're dying and that his dick contains the cure. You've got to suck it out of there. Imagine you haven't eaten in days and nothing would taste better right now than dick in the back of your throat. Try it again."

"Please use this slave's fuckhole, Mr. Johnson, Sir."

"A bit shy and demure, but some owners like that. You sound adequately cock-hungry. doll, your turn. Ask nicely. I know you're desperate for dick in all three holes, so it shouldn't take much acting."

Blushing fiercely, Kristin managed to say "Please use this slave's fuckhole, Mr. Johnson, Sir." She wasn't sure if the trainer's accusation of desperation or the utter absurdity of begging a rubber sex toy was more degrading. Possibly a tie.

"Your turn, minou."

"Please use...this slave's, mouth, fuckhole, Sir, Mr. Johnson, Sir."

"All tangled up, but the sentiment was there. tits!"

The girl's voice sounded confident, and there was even a bit of a coquettish purr as she spoke. "Please use this slave's fuckhole, Mr. Johnson, Sir." 

"Certainly raised as a proper Southern belle, serving mint juleps and blow jobs on the porch of the plantation house. Perhaps trying a bit too much, but that accent will drive men wild either way. cunt, beg Mr. Johnson. If you don't sound sexier than tits, I'm going to slap your tits red."

cunt's voice sounded nearly as strong and confident as tits' had, and though it lacked the purr, her Irish voice sounded alluring as she said "Please use this slave's fuckhole, Mr. Johnson, Sir."

"I think it's a tie. I'll compromise and just slap you across the face really quick. Don't flinch away from me, cunt. Look straight forward even if you know I'm going to hit you."

His palm cracked across the girl's face and Kristin flinched a bit on her behalf.

"That pale skin sure looks pretty when I turn it red. I think I'm going to have to turn your entire bottom that color one of these days. Now, sluts, Mr. Johnson generously agrees to thrust his eminence into your drooling and unworthy little fuckholes. There will be times a man grabs you by the back of the head and jackhammers your throat, and there will be times that he lays back and expects you to do all the work. Today, Mr. Johnson feels like having you do all the work. I want you to get your lips to the base of it. Go."

Kristin hesitated just a moment before putting her lips on the fake penis. It tasted a bit rubbery and faintly of disinfectant, and it felt a bit tacky and cold. Her lips slipped fairly easily over the head, which felt like it filled her hole mouth. How was she going to fit the entire length in there? And how were the other girls faring? Her "Mr. Johnson" seemed like it was the shortest.

"Keep those arms boxed, cunt. Get it wet, sluts. The spit in the back of your throat lubricates better. Don't be ashamed to drool all over it. Relax your throats and breathe through your nose."

Kristin did her best to follow her directions. She slobbered over the head, pushed her face a bit further forward, and felt "Mr. Johnson" slide a bit further into her mouth, stretching her jaw a bit.

"Come on, lily, it's not an ice cream cone. Relax your jaw and throat. Good work, cunt, almost there. Breathe through the nose, tits, you'll never get all of it if you don't. Relax, doll, you look like you're straining."

Kristin relaxed and tried to ignore the pain in her jaw, only to realize that she had to breathe through her nose if she was going to fit any more in. There was only an inch or two left to go but she felt herself tearing up and didn't believe it was possible.

"Don't get your teeth on it, sluts. I guarantee that when you are practicing on the real thing, you will feel some pain if he feels teeth. Put your tongue over your lower teeth and lip, that helps it go down easier."

Kristin moved her mouth back a bit and arranged her tongue as he had said. He was right, her tongue had apparently been bunched up in the back of her mouth and hindering "Mr. Johnson's" progress.

"Tickle his balls with that tongue, sluts. Good work, minou. cunt, you're a seasoned pro, I see. Almost there, doll. Relax, lily. Good work, tits. Now keep your mouths there until everyone is done. Not quite, doll. Touch his balls with your tongue, then you're there. Like that. An inch to go, lily. I know your throat can fit it."

Kristin struggled to breathe and felt involuntary tears running down her face as she held the massive rubber penis in her mouth. She heard the trainer's footsteps walking over to lily and gagging as he shoved her head forward.

"See, lily? It's possible. You just needed some help. Don't gag. Relax. Now, sluts, slide those lips and tongues back and forth. Get as deep as you can. Remember, he should only feel tongue and throat. Don't touch those upper teeth to him at all and keep your tongue over the lower ones. Good job. Don't stop until I tell you."

Kristin's jaw ached, she felt starved of air, and she had to struggle not to gag each time the rubber penis went past the end of her teeth. Worst of all was the humiliation of kneeling in supplication before a rubber dildo, and the knowledge of what the degrading training was preparing her for.

"Don't stop, sluts. I want thirty good minutes of vigorous sucking. If you slow down, I have ways to encourage you."