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Sold In To Slavery Pt. 01

By: Wifeowner



AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a departure from my usual style. I usually write about consensual BDSM. Occasionally, there is some reluctance, but at the end of the day, my slaves like to be owned. I thought it might be fun to shake things up and write about a woman being abducted and sold in to slavery completely against her will. Be forewarned, very heavy non-consensual activity ahead. P.S. It is NOT Professor Ballard who is captured here.

*****

"Oh good, you're awake," said a pleasant male voice.

The professor tried to clear her head. She had no idea where she was. The last thing she remembered was being at the faculty reception. 

They had been celebrating the release of her latest book. All of her colleagues, friends and family had been there. It had been a perfect, balmy southern California night.

She shook her head to clear away some of the fogginess. As she did, she felt rough cloth against her face. Some kind of hood? She tried to speak and became aware of something round and hard in her mouth. It felt like a stiff rubber ball. She felt drool running down her chin.

When she tried to raise her hands to uncover her face, she realized her wrists were secured tightly behind her back by metal cuffs.

She began to panic, shaking her head from side to side and pulling at her bonds with all her might. She heard herself grunting with effort around the gag in her mouth.

"There, there. Hush now. Don't struggle. I'm not going to harm you if you cooperate," said the same voice soothingly.

She tried to rise, then realized her ankles were cuffed together. She felt a strong hand pushing down on the top of her head and she immediately became still.

He was touching her.

"Calm down and stay down," said the voice more curtly now.

The professor tried to pull herself together. She realized she was hyperventilating inside her hood and concentrated on slowing her breathing. She took three deep, calming breaths and tried to focus her senses. She began to assess her situation as dispassionately as possible.

Obviously, she had been abducted. Someone must have spiked her drink, then gotten her in to a car. She wondered how long she had been out. Hours? Days? She wondered suddenly if she had been raped while she was unconscious, then realized she could still feel her clothes on her body. Just a summer skirt and blouse, but they both felt intact. She was still wearing her panties.

She smelled urine and realized she had wet herself. 

The professor focused on her breathing and made a concerted effort to fight down the panic. After a few minutes, her mind began to clear. She sat still and listened carefully to her surroundings.

That was when she heard someone whimpering. It sounded like a woman.

The professor turned her head and cocked an ear. Yes, there was definitely someone sobbing softly in the room. Right next to her. A female.

"Ah, I see you have heard our guest, Professor," said the voice softly. "Yes, we have company. You will have a companion on the journey to your knew life. Your bodies will get well-acquainted with each other soon enough."

Her hopes soared. At least she was not alone. It was two against one. Maybe they could overpower this man and get out of this nightmare. 

She knew her husband and family would be looking for her. By now, they would have called the police. She just needed to bide her time and stay alive until she could be found.

She heard soft footsteps in front of her. It sounded like leather soles on a concrete floor. She realized the man was pacing back and forth.

"Let me explain the situation to both of you," he said. 

He stopped talking for a moment and she heard him light a cigarette.

"Your old lives are over. You are being sold in to slavery. You will never see your families again."

The man paused again to let this sink in.

"Do I need to stop here for a moment to let you have a good cry, Professor? Your companion already had hers while you were asleep. I think she's almost cried out."

The professor shook her head. She wanted to hear it all.

"You are no longer human beings, you are property. You are owned by another person who happens to be my client. This is permanent. Your only purpose in life from this moment forward is to please your owner. Your bodies no longer belong to you, they belong to your owner. You will have no say about how you are used. If you are disobedient, you will be punished."

The professor could not believe her ears. Clearly this man was a lunatic. Slavery? People don't get sold in to slavery anymore. Not in this country anyway.

And why pick her? She was forty-three years old. She understood in a clinical way that she was still quite attractive and worked hard to keep herself in shape, but she found it hard to believe that a white slaver would size her up as a prime catch for some creepy sultan. With all the pretty younger faculty and students at the reception, why go after a middle-aged hausfrau like her? She had two kids in college, for crying out loud. 

"They call me The Collector," he said, the paused to take a drag from his cigarette. 

"I collect slaves and sell them to people. This is how I make my living. I am very good at it. I have never been caught and I have never lost a slave. You two will put my total at one hundred and one slaves captured and delivered over the course of twenty years."

Another pause, another drag. 

"You two are being sold as a matched pair. I already had a buyer waiting when I abducted you. This client has very particular specifications when it comes to acquiring female slaves. It was not easy catching both of you in one night. It took a lot of planning. I'm quite proud of myself for pulling it off, actually."

Another drag, another smoky exhalation.

"I know you are thinking you can escape, but I assure you that this is impossible. We are already out of the country. In Mexico, at one of my safe-houses. You are in a cell with much more elaborate security features than a typical municipal jail. The cage can only be unlocked with an access code that only I know. If you somehow incapacitate me or even kill me, you both will be trapped in the cell. You will then die of starvation and thirst. The nearest house is over ten miles away, so nobody will hear your calls for help."

The professor's hopes began to fade. Already out of the country? In a cell?

"You will stay here for one week to start your training. Tomorrow, you both will be marked and pierced per your owner's instructions. The good news is that you are both being purchased to serve as sex slaves, not pain-pigs, so most of your training will be focused on improving your sexual skills as opposed to repetitive punishment. You should both be grateful that this is the case."

The professor felt her hopes ebbing further. This guy was for real. It was clear he had done this before. She wondered what "marked and pierced" meant.

"After a week, you will be drugged and transported to the coast, then locked in a specialized container for transport by ship to your new home. I will accompany you on the journey."

The professor felt the hand on her head again.

"I want you to nod if you understand me. Both of you."

The professor nodded. She wanted to keep him talking. The hand was removed.

The professor sat perfectly still. She wondered how the other woman in the room was handling this information. The sobbing had stopped. That was a good sign.

There was a pause, then the man spoke again.

"This is where it gets a little awkward," he said softly. There might even have been a trace of sympathy in his voice.

"The client I am selling you to is a rather strict lesbian mistress in Thailand named Mali Wattana."

He began patting the professor on the head like a puppy.

"I know that both of you are straight. I've been watching you for weeks and I think it's likely that neither one of you have ever been with another woman. This has to change quickly. When I deliver you to Mistress Mali, she will expect you to be reasonably well trained at pleasing a woman."

There was another pause as he drew on his cigarette. He stopped patting the professor's head.

"So starting today, you will both make an effort to improve your skills in this area. You will make a study of licking pussy and eating ass. You will also learn to stimulate a woman with your fingers and hands. I want you both to learn to fist and be fisted as well. Apparently, this practice is quite common in the lesbian community. You have one week to get up to speed. You will practice on each other, of course."

The professor felt the hand on her head again. She shuddered.

"This cell is under continuous video surveillance. When I am not down here with you, I will be watching the monitors. I expect to see a non-stop pussy party going on all day and most of the night. I want tongues in pussies at all times while you are awake. The only time one of your tongues should not be in a pussy is when you are fingering or fisting that pussy in which case your tongue should be buried in an asshole."

The hand was removed from her head. The professor slumped against the wall. This was really happening. Her situation kept getting worse by the moment.

"And I want to see orgasms, real ones," said the man sternly. "We'll start with a goal of ten orgasms for each of you today and work up from there as the week progresses. If I see any fakery or any hint that either of you are lacking in enthusiasm, you will both be whipped."

The man paused to inhale more carcinogens.

"Nod your head if you understand," he said evenly.

The professor nodded her head glumly. Her shoulders slumped and she bowed her head. She was beaten.

"But first, it's time for me to have a little more fun," said the voice merrily. 

The professor could tell he was smiling. In a moment, she sensed him looming over her.

"One of the perks of my job is that I get to sample the merchandise. I've already had my way with your fellow traveler while you were knocked out. She was quite accommodating, I assure you. I only had to whip her once and she got right in line. Hard to believe she was an anal virgin. And such an eager little cock-sucker," said the voice laughing.

The professor felt a hand under her chin.

"Here's what's going to happen next, Professor. I'm going to remove your hood and gag, then you're going to suck my cock as if you're life depended on it. Then I'm going to use your other holes. When I'm done, I'm probably going to do it all over again in no particular order. I'm a big believer in recreational Viagra."

There was a final pause as the man took a last drag from his cigarette, then the professor felt a tug as her hood was removed. She blinked rapidly in the brightness of the cell for several seconds. She did not look up at the man.

Instead, she turned her head to the right to get a look at her fellow prisoner.

And found herself staring directly in to the terrified eyes of her nineteen year-old daughter.

The professor's heart seemed to stop. For a long moment, she couldn't breathe. At last, she steadied herself and looked her daughter up and down. She was naked on her knees. She was gagged and had her hands cuffed behind her back. There were several red welts on her breasts, but otherwise she appeared unharmed.

He'd only had to whip her once, he had said.

She looked again at her daughter's face, staring in to her red-rimmed eyes as the implications of their predicament began to sink in. Her daughter stared back, then nodded almost imperceptibly. Something passed between them. They were together. They would be strong for each other. They would do what had to be done to stay alive.

Vaguely, the professor was aware of the man loosening the strap around her head and removing the ball gag. She worked her jaw several times to relieve the stiffness as she continued to gaze at her daughter.

Then she heard him unbuckling his belt.

Finally, the professor looked up at the man who had broken their lives.

He looked like an accountant. Medium height, short, graying hair. Wire-rimmed glasses. A plain face, not one you would remember. This is probably helpful in his profession, she thought.

He stepped up to her with his large semi-erect penis in his hand and pulled her up on her knees.

"Open wide, Professor. And do a good job. If I feel any teeth, I'll whip her cunt while you watch," he said matter-of-factly, nodding his head toward her daughter.

She examined the cock before her. It was quite large and getting larger by the second. It was clear that the man was enjoying himself. He had obviously done this before many times. How many slaves had he taken? Over a hundred? 

It's going to hurt when he rapes my ass, she thought idly. She could see her daughter watching her out of the corner of her eye. She would have to get used to that.

For a few moments, the professor stared straight ahead, seeing nothing. She was thinking about her husband and the rest of her family, her career, her friends. All gone now. She closed her eyes and sent them all a silent farewell, a soft requiem for a life now past.

Then she opened her eyes, leaned forward and began to suck.

Sold In To Slavery Pt. 02



AUTHOR'S NOTE: Fair warning, extreme, non-consensual activity ahead. Be prepared for rape and incest and all manner of non-consensual badness. Don't say you weren't warned!

*****

The professor did her best to please their captor. She bobbed up and down on his cock for several minutes, sucking loudly as she worked her tongue along the underside of his shaft. It was somewhat difficult to establish a rhythm with her hands cuffed behind her back. 

The professor was no prude. She and her husband had a rich and healthy sex life. She knew she was reasonably good at sucking cock. 

She tried to ignore the fact that her daughter was kneeling naked beside her, watching her service this lunatic. 

The man's cock was much larger than her husband's. She was only able to take about half of its length down her throat. The professor looked up in to his eyes as she sucked. 

She made a supreme effort to appear eager and enthusiastic. The professor instinctively understood that any perceived apathy or vacuity on her part would have painful consequences for both her and her daughter. 

She was also trying to convince the man that she had already surrendered. She had already made up her mind that she would do as she was told for the time being. Let him think she was beaten, she thought. Maybe he would let his guard down. He only needed to turn his back on her once. She would be ready. Meanwhile, she had to play the role of the defeated prisoner. 

She studied his expression as she slid her mouth up and down his cock, plunging deep enough to gag herself. She saw a twinkle of triumph dancing in his eyes as she moaned around the bulbous head in her mouth.

The man looked down benignly. He was pleasantly surprised at the mother's docility. He had expected more of a fight. He smiled inwardly. These two would be easy to train. 

"Not bad," said the man amiably. "I see where your daughter gets it from."

The man looked over at the daughter, then snapped his fingers. 

"Crawl over here, cunt'" he said curtly. "Lick my balls."

The girl didn't hesitate. She had already been whipped once. She crawled quickly into position and waited until the man reached down and removed her gag. Then she began to lave the man's scrotum with long, slow strokes of her tongue. 

The man stood with his hands on his hips and looked down at his captives. 

"In a moment, I'm going to use you together. This is your life now, so you might as well get used to it. Before I do, I want to make sure you understand your situation."

He patted both women on the head. 

"Stop sucking and look at me, cunts."

He crossed his arms casually, let his hard cock dangle just above their faces. The women regarded him silently. 

"I've said it once already, but I'll say it again. This cell remains locked at all times. It can only be opened by punching in an access code into this keypad."

He pointed to a black, plastic box mounted on the cell door behind him. 

"I change the access code every time I come in, so don't bother trying to read it over my shoulder. If you take a look around, you can see there is no other way in or out."

For the first time, the professor examined her surroundings. They were locked in a large concrete cell approximately twenty feet square. Three walls were solid concrete. The fourth wall was comprised of steel bars set about four inches apart. The man was standing in front of a man-sized gate cut in to the bars. 

She turned her head to see what was behind her. 

There was a stainless steel toilet against the back wall. Next to it was a steel sink. There was a shower head set in to the wall, next to the sink. She noticed a drain in the floor. 

In the back corner, there was a large mattress on the floor with what appeared to be clean sheets. Next to the mattress was mini fridge. 

There was a rack on the wall near the bed. She noticed several whips, manacles and unidentifiable chains. It looked like something out of a medieval torture chamber. 

"I'm going to un-cuff you now," he said calmly. "But before I do, you need to understand the rules. Until I deliver you to Mistress Mali, you are my property. Your only purpose in life is to please me. I expect absolute obedience. Disobey and you will be whipped."

He patted the daughter on the head like a puppy, then looked at the professor. He reached down and cupped the middle-aged woman's chin with his right hand, tilting her face up until their eyes met. 

"Just so you know, Professor. If you hurt me or try to escape, your daughter loses a digit. We'll start with the left pinky toe and move on from there."

The professor held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded. 

The man released his hold on the professor and stepped away from the two women. He began to undress casually. In a moment, he was standing naked before them. He reached in to a pants pocket and extracted a small key. Then he folded his clothes and placed them neatly on the chair. 

Slowly, he circled behind the kneeling middle-aged woman and unlocked her handcuffs. 

"Sit down, please," the man said politely. 

She rolled off her knees and sat, rubbing both wrists. 

The man knelt and used the same key to unlock her ankle cuffs. 

The professor remained seated as she watched the man step over to her daughter to unlock her handcuffs. 

The man looked down at the professor. 

"Strip, cunt."

The professor stood on wobbly legs and began to unbutton her blouse. She shrugged it off, then reached back and unhooked her bra. She hesitated for a moment, then unzipped her dress and stepped out of it. Finally, she rolled her panties off and stood naked in dampness of the cell. She dropped her panties on top of the small pile of her clothes. 

Her daughter remained kneeling at her side. 

"Stand up straight. Hands behind your head. Legs wide," barked the man. 

The professor assumed the position. 

"This is inspection position. Learn it."

The man reached down and picked up the professor's discarded panties. They were damp with urine and sweat. 

He tapped the kneeling daughter on the head. 

"Open your upper cunt, whore."

The daughter appeared momentarily confused, then realization dawned on her face. She opened her mouth slowly. 

The man smiled down at her. 

"Such a good girl," he said, stuffing the soiled underwear into the teenager's mouth. 

Then he turned and began to inspect the professor. He circled her slowly, prodding and poking her as she stood at attention. He cupped both breasts proprietarily. 

"Nice. Your udders aren't sagging too badly yet. Mistress Mali is going to love torturing these. The nipples will pierce well."

He let go of her beasts and reached down to her crotch. He roughly inserted the first two fingers of his right hand in to her vagina. 

"Hmm, not too loose, Professor. Not as tight as your daughter, but you'll do."

He pulled out his fingers and brought them up to the middle-aged woman's mouth.

"Might as well get used to the taste of pussy, right Professor?"

The professor kept her eyes on his as she opened her mouth and licked the fingers clean. 

When he was satisfied, he pulled his fingers out and wiped them on the kneeling daughter's hair. 

"All fours, professor. Time for your fucking," the man said mildly. 

The mother knelt, then leaned forward on to her hands, facing away. She waited. 

The man bent down and removed the panties from the daughter's mouth. He shoved his cock in past her lips. 

"I'll take a little fluffing, cunt. Get me nice and hard for momma."

The girl began to suck him loudly and enthusiastically, swirling her tongue under the head of his cock the way he had trained her earlier. 

After a moment, the man smacked the ass of the older slave sharply. 

"Watch, cunt."

The professor turned her head, looking over her shoulder as her daughter bobbed up and down on the man's cock. 

In a few minutes, the man was fully erect. 

He pushed away the daughter and positioned himself behind the professor. He looked back at the daughter and snapped his fingers. 

"Get over here, cunt."

The girl crawled over and waited on her knees beside her mother's left hip. 

"Open her up. Put me in, please."

Slowly the girl reached for the man's cock with her right hand. Then she used the thumb and index finger of her left hand to hold open the lips of her mother's pussy. The man pressed forward and the girl guided the large head into the opening. 

The middle-aged woman grunted as the man entered her in one thrust. 

He started slowly, establishing a slow and easy rhythm. He grabbed the daughter by the hair and pulled her head down so it rested on the mother's left ass cheek with her face pointed toward the man's cock. 

After a few more minutes of steady fucking, he pulled out and shoved his cock in to the daughter's mouth. He mouth-fucked her for a minute before reinserting his cock in to the mother's now wet cunt. He repeated the process several times. 

The man wondered idly if the mother would come if he fucked her long enough. He knew that one in five rape victims orgasmed during the assault. He had personally seen it happen several times. The added humiliation was delicious. 

Abruptly, the man pulled out and straightened on his knees. 

"Time to take that ass," he said to the kneeling daughter. "Spread her cheeks and lube her up for me, please."

The daughter immediately grabbed an ass-cheek in both hands and spread. Then she lowered her face to her mom's ass and began licking her rosebud. 

"How does your daughter's tongue feel, Professor?"

"It feels good, sir," said the mother softly. She knew what was expected of her. 

"Have you ever been ass-fucked, cunt?"

"No sir," said the middle-aged professor resignedly. 

"Wow, two virgins in one day. What a treat!" 

The man smiled down at the younger slave. He couldn't quite believe how malleable the girl had become after only one whipping. She was obviously a natural-born slave. 

"That's fine, cunt. Now put me in."

Again the daughter didn't hesitate. She pressed the tip of the man's enormous cock up against her mom's asshole. She watched the virgin sphincter tighten around the mushroom-shaped head. The daughter remembered the pain from her own ass-fucking a few hours earlier and said a silent prayer for her mom. 

Then the man buried his cock to the hilt in one thrust. 

The professor screamed. 

The man fucked the her ass slowly and methodically at first. He was an expert at anal rape. He wanted to give the hole time to ripen. The last thing he wanted was to tear her. As the skin around her sphincter softened and expanded, he picked up the pace.  

Soon, his balls were slamming against her cunt. He jack-hammered in and out for a few more minutes, savoring the quiet whimpers of the professor. The daughter remained on her knees, watching without expression. 

Finally the moment was upon him. The man grabbed both hips of the middle-aged woman, pulling her roughly against him several times until he exploded in to her bowels. 

He paused with his softening cock embedded in her ass, enjoying the tightness as her sphincter began to contract, then pulled out slowly. 

He reached down and grabbed the daughter by the hair, shoving her face toward her mother's ass. The anus was red and dilated. There were gobs of cum clinging to the rim of the opening. 

"Clean her out. Get it all and don't spill a drop. I'll inspect her when you're done."

This time the daughter did hesitate, if only for a moment. 

The man smacked her ass smartly. 

"Do I have to get my whip?" He asked evenly. 

The daughter immediately lowered her mouth to her mom's ruined ass and began to lick, slurping loudly to suck out all the cum. 

The man stood and circled to the front of the middle-aged woman. Her head was hanging down below her shoulders as she stood on all fours having her ass eaten out by her own daughter. 

"Clean me, whore," said the man curtly as he dangled his softening cock in her face. 

For a moment, she didn't move, then she understood. The professor picked up her head and took him in her mouth. 

Like her daughter, she slurped loudly as she cleaned.



Sold In To Slavery Pt. 03



AUTHOR'S NOTE: Comments are always welcome, but please read this disclaimer. This story is about the non-consensual degradation and abuse of a mother and daughter who are captured and sold in to slavery. It contains heavy non-consensual BDSM and non-consensual sex and incest. This is fiction, not reality. It goes without saying that none of this depravity should ever happened in real life, but if it did it might look a little like this...

*****

The man known as "The Collector" stood in the well-lighted cell smoking a post-coital cigarette. Between puffs he squinted down through the smoke at the middle-aged professor who was enthusiastically cleaning his cock with her mouth. She remained on all fours following the first ass-fucking of her life. Her nineteen year-old daughter was noisily sucking out the older woman's asshole, desperately trying to slurp up all the cum the man had just deposited there. 

Both slaves had been captured the previous evening in California, then spirited across the Mexican border to his safe-house. This was their first full day in captivity. They were being sold as a matched pair to a lesbian dominatrix and entrepreneur in Thailand named Mistress Mali, who enjoyed using western mothers and daughters together. 

The corpulent Asian mistress used her slaves for her own sexual fulfillment, but also put them to work in her many brothels. Sex tourists paid dollar to party with an attractive occidental mother and daughter. The mother-daughter slave pairs were also big draws during the live sex shows performed nightly in her private clubs. 

In this case, the mother was a full professor of economics at one of the California state universities. Her name was Madeline Bennett. At forty-three, she was still a striking beauty. She had long, auburn hair, emerald green eyes and a generous mouth. Her body, for a woman of her age, was nothing short of spectacular, with large, firm breasts, a flat stomach and a perfectly shaped ass. Her legs were taught and well-muscled from her daily runs on the beach. 

The daughter, Summer, was a sophomore at the university where her mother taught. In looks, she was a younger version of her mother. They had the same exact eye and hair coloring and almost the same facial features. The two were often mistaken for sisters. Summer's body had filled out a bit more than her mom's. Her breasts and hips were fuller, but her waist remained narrow and her stomach flat. Summer was a natural athlete. Her legs were tanned and well-toned from her many hours each week of college field hockey practice. 

The man looked at his watch. 

"You have one minute left, sweetie," he said to the daughter mildly. "Remember, I want her cleaned out properly or I'm afraid it's time for your first cunt-whipping."

Summer grunted into her mom's ass, then redoubled her efforts. At the mention of the whip, her eyes widened in panic. Her breasts had been whipped earlier in the day. She could not imagine how the heavy braided leather tip would feel as it struck her exposed pussy. 

Driven on by a fresh sense of urgency, Summer pulled both of her mother's ass cheeks apart and laved up and down the crack a dozen times, flattening her tongue against the quivering flesh. Then she repositioned her fingers to hold open the anus and dove in with her tongue, curling the tip to funnel the diminishing tide of semen directly into her mouth. Finally, she inserted her right index finger to the hilt and wiggled it around inside for a few seconds before slowly withdrawing it, scooping out a last few dollops of cum, which she quickly gobbled up. 

The professor grunted periodically around the cock in her mouth, but remained still. 

"Ten seconds," said the man. 

Summer positioned her mouth over her mom's anus and clamped her lips around the rim, slurping and sucking loudly. The man was gratified to see the heavy muscles of the daughter's jaws working rhythmically as she desperately sought out the last dregs of his cum. She held this position until time ran out. 

"Time," barked the man. 

Summer pulled her face away and knelt back on her haunches. 

The man pulled his cock out of the mother's mouth and casually wiped it dry on the middle-aged woman's hair. He stepped over to the daughter who remained cowering on her knees beside her mother's left hip. 

The man reached down and spread the Madeline Bennett's ass cheeks apart with both hands. He carefully examined the anus and taint. Then he roughly inserted his right middle finger. The professor wobbled slightly, but did not shift her position. 

The man withdrew his finger and studied it. 

"Not bad, sugar pie," said the man after a few seconds. "Good job. No cunting for you today."

Summer let out an audible sigh of relief and looked up at the man expectantly. 

The man reached down and held his soiled middle finger in front of the kneeling daughter's face. Without breaking eye contact, Summer took the proffered finger in her mouth and began to lick and suck it clean. The man let her suckle the finger for a full minute before pulling it out and wiping it dry on the teenager's face. 

The man reached down and gently cupped the girls chin with his right hand, tilting her face upward until their eyes met. 

Summer's eyes were red-rimmed from crying. Her hair was disheveled and matted against her forehead with sweat. Her lips and chin were smeared with semen, saliva and her mother's secretions. 

"Did you clean out mommy's asshole like a good girl?" he asked gently. 

"Um...yes, sir," responded the girl shakily. 

"That was very nice of you, sweetie," said the man. "Now I think it's time for your mother to thank you properly. Why don't you go over and let her give you a big kiss. Right on the lips."

He grabbed the girl roughly by the hair and dragged her crawling over to her mother. 

"Give her a nice thank-you kiss, Professor. Make it good. I want to see some tongue."

Madeline turned her head as her daughter approached and held the girl's eyes for a long moment. The daughter hesitated for only a few more seconds, then leaned in and kissed her mother on the lips. The professor kissed her back. She could taste the distinctive flavor of semen combined with her own juices on her daughter's lips. After a moment, both women began to explore each other's mouths with their tongues. 

The man smiled down benignly. 

"Oh, isn't that romantic? You're first kiss. You two kids are going to get to know each other in a whole new light this week," he chuckled. 

The man let the kiss continue for another full minute. 

"That's enough. Let's get you hosed off. You're both getting a little ripe," he said crinkling his nose. "Crawl this way, please, ladies."

He walked across the large cell to the bathroom area in the back, right corner. The two women followed on their hands and knees. 

The professor noticed a stainless steel toilet with no seat beside a utilitarian white porcelain sink. A hand-held shower head was clipped to the wall attached to a long flexible hose. She looked down and noticed a large drain in the floor. 

"Stand up please, ladies."

The two naked women rose wearily, holding on to each other for support. The man's right hand closed around the shower head and pulled it off its clip. Her turned the metal valve on the wall all the way to the left. 

"No hot water, I'm afraid," said the man apologetically. "But you might as well get used to it. I don't think Mistress Mali even has running water in the slaves' quarters, although you will get to shower when you're being used in the brothels."

The mother and daughter exchanged panicky glances. Their situation just seemed to keep on getting worse. 

The man tested the shower nozzle. A strong jet of water immediately shot out and hit the drain in the floor. He adjusted the mechanism to get a medium-sized spray. 

"Assume the position, ladies. Both hands flat against the wall. Bend over and spread your legs," he shouted over the noise of the shower. 

Both women immediately complied. 

The man stepped back and began to systematically hose off the two women. Both slaves yelped at the first impact of the ice cold water. The man ignored their protests. It was obvious he had performed these ablutions dozens of times in the past. 

Periodically, he issued curt commands. 

"Arms down, arms up...lift your left leg, now the right... spread your ass cheeks... open those cunt lips wider..."

After the initial hose-off was completed, he turned off the nozzle and handed both shivering women small bars of soap.

"Soap yourselves down. I want to see a good lather."

The women did as they were told. When they were done, he hosed them both off again, then handed them both small bottles of shampoo. The women quickly lathered their hair, then stood still as the man rinsed them off. 

"There, that's better," said the man with satisfaction as he turned off the water. 

He handed each woman a large soft towel. 

"Dry off, please," he said brusquely. 

The women rubbed themselves down with their towels. When they were dry, they reflexively started to wrap the towels around themselves, but the man intervened, holding out both hands. 

"Don't cover yourselves. Ever. Slaves remain naked at all times. No exceptions. Give me the towels," he said tersely, snapping his fingers. 

Both women handed them over. 

The man motioned toward the bed. "In the nightstand you will find a blow drier and an assortment of brushes and combs as well as make-up and other beauty supplies. I want you to make yourselves up like you're going to the prom. Don't worry so much about your hair. During your training, I want you both pulled back into ponytails."

The man paused and put his hands on his hips. 

"Remember, your bodies now belong to Mistress Mali. It is your responsibility to take good care of your owner's property. This means paying close attention to your health and personal hygiene and making yourselves as attractive as possible at all times. If I find either one of you sloppy or unkempt, you will both be whipped."

He reached under the sink and came up two safety razors and a large can of gel shaving cream. 

He gave each woman a razor and handed the can to the mother. 

"Body hair is not permitted on slaves. When you arrive at the slave compound, all this hair will be permanently removed. In the meantime, you will both have to shave daily. Help each other out with your ass cracks and taints, please, and don't forget your cunt lips. If I find a single hair on either one of you, you both will be whipped."

The man walked over to the mini fridge and opened the door. 

"There is water and sandwiches in the fridge," he said. "But you can eat and drink only after you have shaved and done your hair and make-up."

Both women eyed the mini fridge greedily. It had been almost a full day since either of them had eaten. 

The man looked at his watch. 

"I'm going to give you exactly one hour to eat and make yourselves presentable."

The man turned and walked toward the bars of the cell. He scooped up his clothes, but made no attempt to cover his nudity. He also collected the women's soiled clothing off the floor. 

"You won't be needing these anymore," he chuckled. 

He pushed for a beat, then walked unhurriedly over to the cage door. With his back turned to the women, he entered a four-digit code into a electronic key pad. The gate buzzed and swung open. The man quickly stepped outside and re-closed the door. 

He turned back and regarded the two women with a look of what might have been pained empathy had he not already demonstrated that he was a psychopath. 

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in. Yesterday you were two regular people with hopes and dreams and now I'm telling you you've been sold as slaves to some random lesbian in Thailand."

The women just stood and stared at him. 

The man deposited the clothes on a workbench along the left wall of the concrete anteroom, then turned and walked up to the cell, gripping the bars with both hands. 

"It's only natural that you would require a period of adjustment. Don't feel bad if you don't get everything right on the first day. The whip is a very good motivator. You'll get it eventually," he said smiling. 

The women blinked at him. 

"Unfortunately, we do not have the luxury of time. I only have one week to break both of you in before we begin our journey to your new home."

He looked again at his watch, then struck a theatrical pose, holding up the index finger of his right hand, like an orator addressing a crowd. When he spoke, he made a flourish with his hand and over-emphasized each syllable, like a bad Shakespearean actor. 

"You have exactly one hour to get yourselves ready physically and emotionally. Hold each other tight and have a good cry. Mourn your old lives, gnash your teeth and rail against the pitiless fate that has delivered you to me."

The man paused for effect, then his voice turned deadly serious. 

"But when I come back down here, your training will officially begin. I expect to find you both fresh and ready to start your new lives. I will demand enthusiastic, absolute obedience. If you disappoint me in any way, you will be punished. Do we understand each other, ladies?"

"Yes, sir," both women whispered simultaneously. 

"One other thing. This cell is under constant video surveillance," he said, pointing to two cameras mounted on the ceiling outside the cell bars. 

He walked over to a gun metal steel desk and picked up a high end laptop. 

"I review all the video every day. Please do not do anything in my absence that would displease me. That would include attempting to cover yourselves in any way. As I said, I keep my slaves naked and available for use at all times. No exceptions."

Both women nodded. 

The man turned and walked over to a steel door set into the concrete wall on the far side of the room beyond the cell bars. It was unlocked. He pulled the heavy door open. The women could see a narrow corridor beyond illuminated by overhead fluorescent lights. There was what appeared to be a closed elevator door at the far end of the hall. 

The man turned again to face his charges.

"You have one hour," he said sharply, then stepped out the door, slamming it shut behind him. 

As soon as the heavy steel door closed, Summer ran up to her mother and hugged her fiercely, oblivious to their mutual nudity. 

"Oh, God, Mom, this is not happening, right? I mean, he's crazy, right? He's got to be. There's no way it can be true. People don't buy and sell human beings anymore, right?" she asked desperately. The teenager was clearly on the verge of hysteria. 

Madeline held her daughter closely for a full minute, gently stroking her hair and cooing into her ear, then she pushed her gently away and held her at arm's length. 

"Summer, I think we have to assume that what he is saying is true," she said coolly. "I mean look at this place. This is not some drifter's hovel. This is a professional operation."

She paused for a few seconds to let the words sink in, then grabbed her daughter firmly by the shoulders. 

"The important thing is we are both still alive and we're together," said the mother emphatically. "I'm sure your father and the police are already looking for us. Our job is to still be alive when they get here."

Summer freed herself from her mother's grip and hugged her again, burying her face in her hair. When she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper. 

"He...he...whipped me, Mom, with a real whip like they use on horses. While you were still knocked out, he handcuffed my hands behind my back and whipped my...breasts for no reason. Then he raped me. Everywhere. I don't know if I can do this," she sobbed. 

Her mom pushed her away again and held her tightly by the upper arms. 

"Summer Anne Bennett!" shouted the mother sternly. "You listen to me, young lady. Nothing this monster does to us will change who we are. We will not give him the satisfaction. I simply will not allow it. He's a coward and a worm. He can do whatever he wants with our bodies, but he can't touch us here."

The mother put her hand over her own heart. 

"I love you, Summer and I know that you love me. That's all that matters. We can get through this. All we have to do is keep him happy until somebody finds us or we get a chance to escape."

Summer looked at her mother open-mouthed. She was horrified. 

"Keep him happy? Mom, are you crazy? He just made me suck his cum out of your fucking asshole! Didn't you hear what he's going to make us do next? He's going to force us to...be together...to have sex with each other. I can't do it. I just can't. I'd rather just end it all right now before he comes back. We could use the whip to make a noose..."

Madeline Bennett slapped her daughter's face with the flat of her right hand. 

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare talk like that ever again," she shouted. 

Summer held a hand to her stinging left cheek. 

"I didn't raise you to surrender to a cretin like this man. I agree things are bad and they are going to get worse. We are going to have to do many distasteful things, you and I, but at the end of the day, we will still have our dignity because we will have our defiance."

"I don't know if I can do it," said Summer softly, looking away. 

"Do it for me, Summer," said her mom softly. "I've already had a life. Yours is just beginning. I promise to get you out of this, but you need to give me some time. If I see a chance to trade my life for his, I will take it, but I have to know that you will not give up, that you will always try to survive. For me."

There was a long pause. 

When Summer spoke again. There was a new edge to her voice. 

"Let's fight him," she whispered harshly. "You and me. Next time he sticks his dick in one of our mouths, we bite it off. Then we both hold him down until he bleeds out like a stuck pig."

The mother paused. She was relieved that her daughter was back in the fight, but the older woman knew they had to be extremely careful. 

"What about the locking mechanism, Summer? He said he changes the code every time he comes in. We'd be trapped in the cell with his dead body. We have water, but no food. We would starve. He said there wasn't a house within ten miles of this place."

"We can eat him," said the daughter calmly. "That would buy us some time."

Madeline looked her daughter in the eyes. She could tell the girl was being serious. 

"Besides," Summer continued reasonably, "how do we know he isn't lying? You saw that elevator at the end of the hallway, right? We're obviously underground. We could be anywhere, even in a big city."

Madeline considered her daughter's words. The elevator was an intriguing development. Would someone install an elevator in a small house in the middle of some barren Mexican desert? Could it even be done? Her daughter had a point. They could very well already be located in a city or town. If they made enough noise, for a long enough period of time, somebody might find them. 

Madeline sketched out the skeleton of a plan in her mind, then nodded to herself. 

"Okay, Summer, let's make a decision right now. I think we can both agree that we are not going to be packed in a shipping container and sent off to Thailand, right?"

Summer nodded. "That's not going to happen."

Madeline continued. "He said he's keeping us here for one week. That means we have seven days to act. I say we string him along and study his patterns. We look for a way kill him without being trapped in the cell afterward. Maybe we can figure out the codes or something."

Summer nodded again. "Agreed."

Madeline took a deep breath. This was the hard part. 

"But if the last day comes and we still can't find a way to kill him and get the cell door open, we kill him anyway and take our chances. I'll try to be the one who does it, but it might have to be you. Can you handle that? Can you do it?"




Sold In To Slavery Pt. 03



Summer didn't hesitate at all. 

"I hope it's me," she said calmly. "I can't wait to bite through his cock like a piece of grizzle."

The mother nodded, then gently pushed her daughter away and looked her in the eyes. 

"In the mean time, we play along. We make it look like we have accepted our fate. Understood? We do everything he says, without hesitation. We want him to let his guard down."

"I understand, Mom. I get it."

Summer walked over to the nightstand. There was a bounce back in her step. She picked up one of the blue disposable razors. 

"I don't know about you, Mom, but I'm starving and Captain Dipshit says we have to shave before we can eat. Who do you want to do first, me or you? I'm apparently going to need some help with my ass crack and taint," she laughed. 

It only took a few minutes for the two women to help shave each other. It was awkward, but not overly traumatic. They both tried to keep the process as clinical as possible. When they were done, they checked each other over, then did their make-up and hair, pulling their auburn locks back into tight matching pony tails. 

Finally, they attacked the fridge. Turkey and Swiss on rye never tasted so good. 

Both women surreptitiously watched the clock on the wall as they ate and drank their waters sitting on the side of the bed. When the hour was almost up, it was the mother who spoke. 

"Summer. We need to talk about the elephant in the room. We need to defuse the situation," she said evenly. 

"What do you mean, Mom?" asked Summer warily. 

"I want us both to be prepared for what he's going to make us do. Let's be calm and objective about this."

"Okay," said Summer guardedly. 

"We've both already been raped. It's awful, but it's true, so that Rubicon has been crossed. I'm afraid we will both be raped many more times before this is over."

"Right. I know," said Summer softly. 

"But the point is we're still here, honey. It didn't kill us. The world didn't end. We can handle it."

"I guess so," replied the daughter glumly.

The mother turned to her face daughter on the bed. She reached up and held her face in both hands. 

"Honey, this man thrives on degrading and humiliating women. The next thing he's going to do is make us have sex with each other. It's going to happen and there's nothing we can do about it."

"I know," whispered Summer and tried to look away. 

Her mother held her face firmly and looked in to her daughter's eyes. 

"We can't stop it from happening, but we can control our own reactions. We can rob him of some power over us by taking the dread out of it. Right now."

"How?" Asked Summer, curious now. 

"By talking about it and realizing it's no big deal," said the mother earnestly.

"It's not?" asked the daughter hopefully. 

Madeline paused and released her daughter's face. 

"Can I speak frankly, Summer? Just between us girls?" she asked. 

"Sure."

"Honey, have you had your pussy eaten before?"

The daughter looked away. 

"Yes, by a couple of boyfriends. They weren't very good," she added unnecessarily. 

"I have too. Many times. Some were good, some were bad. I even performed it on another girl in college and I rather enjoyed it."

Summer looked up at her mother in absolute shock. She seemed genuinely scandalized, which seemed quaint and almost humorous given their current circumstances. Her mother had to stop herself from laughing out loud.

"My point is that good or bad, giving or receiving, eating pussy is not a life-changing experience. A simple mechanical sex act doesn't define who I am. So, I ate a pussy. Who cares?"

Her daughter paused to let her mother's words sink in. 

"Right. I can see that," she finally said thoughtfully. "If you look at it that way, it's doesn't seem that important."

"Exactly. A person is defined by their heart, mind and soul, not by their genitals."

Summer hesitated for a few seconds. 

"Okay, so what does this mean for us?" she asked her mother haltingly. 

The older woman put her arm around her daughter's shoulder and pulled her close to her on the bed. 

"It means we are both going to eat a lot of pussy over the next few days and that's okay. Don't hesitate, don't agonize over it. Don't even worry about it. Just do it. It won't change who we are or how we feel about each other. Are we clear on this?" she asked smiling. 

Summer smiled back at her mother. 

"Crystal, Mom, " she said firmly. "If he wants to see some kind of sick dog and pony show, we'll give it to him, but we're not going to let the bastard see us squirm." 

"Exactly, Summer," she resolutely. "Believe me, that will take a lot of the fun out of it for him."

The mother looked up at the clock. 

"So, we're good, you and me?" she asked softly, holding up her right hand for a fist bump. 

"One hundred percent copacetic, Mom" said the daughter with a grim smile, reaching out and tapping her mom's fist with her own. 

It was an expression they often used over the years to indicate that everything really was going to be okay, despite the challenges and vicissitudes of the moment. 

Madeline cleared her throat and looked at the clock on the wall. 

"It's almost time, honey. Remember what I said. We play along, we wait for our moment, we do as we're told. Don't give him any excuse to hurt us."

"Okay, Mom," said Summer. Her voice sounded stronger now. 

Madeline turned and kissed her daughter on the cheek. 

"Be strong, Summer. No matter what happens, don't forget how this is going to end. Keep it at the front of your mind at all times. It will help you get through it."

Summer turned to face her mother. "That we are going to be free?"

The mother stared at her daughter for a long moment, then took her by the hand and looked up at the ceiling. 

"That he's a dead man. You have my word on that."

No further words were needed. The women waited in companionable silence for the final few minutes to pass. They stared at the heavy steel door in the concrete wall, alone in their thoughts, but united in their resolve. 

They would survive.



Sold In To Slavery Pt. 04



WARNING: this story contains depictions of extreme, non-consensual sexual slavery. Sick, twisted, incestuous debauchery lies directly ahead. And that's just the first three paragraphs! Please do NOT read on of you are offended by such content. If you do choose to continue reading, please remember that this is a work of fantabulous fiction. None of this shit should ever happen in real life to anyone. Ever.

*****

Summer tapped her mother on the back of the head impatiently. 

"Hurry up, Mom. Pick up the pace. I need two more before Master gets down here," said the daughter urgently. "Why do you always lose focus when I do you first?" she added irritably. 

The professor was lying on her stomach on the bed with her face between her daughter's legs. She was eating out her pussy for all she was worth. It had taken her longer than usual to coax out the first orgasm from the nineteen year-old girl and she still had two more to go before the seven o'clock deadline. 

Their master called this their daily matins. Three orgasms each before breakfast every day. Tongues only. No fingers allowed. 

The daughter had already made the mother cum three times using her well-trained tongue. She preferred being on her knees with her mother spread out before her on the edge of the bed. Summer was becoming quite the accomplished pussy-eater. It was hard to believe she had never been with a woman prior to getting captured. 

Today was their sixth day of captivity. 

"I'm sorry, honey," said the mother defensively. "It's just that my jaws still ache from last night. It took you forever to cum," she added peevishly. 

The previous night, their master had ordered the slaves to achieve their first purely anal orgasms. They had been directed to make each other cum using only tongues in assholes. No vaginal or clitoral stimulation was permitted. The mother's tongue had been clumsy and tired. It had taken the daughter over two hours to finally achieve release.

The daughter reached down and grabbed her mother roughly by the pony tail. She jerked it upward, until their eyes met. The older woman's lips and chin were smeared with her daughter's juices. 

"Don't blame me for your lazy tongue, old woman," said the Summer cooly. "As I recall, it only took me fifteen minutes to get you off last night."

"I know, sweetie," said the mother meekly. "I promise to do better, honey," she added smiling up at her daughter. 

The daughter continued to look down into her mother's eyes. She gave her pony tail a rough shake. 

"To be honest, I'm getting a little sick and tired of pulling all the weight around here," she continued. "I thought you said you dyked it up in college, but you certainly couldn't tell that from your performance. I'll tell you right now that I am not going to have my udders whipped again for missing matins. It's time for you to step it up and get me off or I'll tell Master you're starting to lose interest in your training."

The older woman's eyes widened in fear. Both slaves were under strict orders to report any lapses in enthusiasm. Neither of them had ever done so before, but now the mother was starting to question her own position. The tension between her and her daughter had been steadily increasing over the last few days. Clearly, the mother-daughter bond was starting to fray. 

"That won't be necessary, honey," said the mother obsequiously as she patted her daughter's pussy lightly with the flat of her right hand. She leaned in and gave her bare vulva a big smootch, then batted her eye lashes coquettishly. "Do you want me to put my pinky in your ass? Sometimes that pushes you over the edge, right?"

"No, that won't work. Your tongue feels like a wet noodle. Flip over and I'll and grind it out," said the daughter petulantly. 

The mother scrambled to comply, turning over on to her back and placing her hands docilely at her sides. 

Summer sat up and swung her legs around in one smooth motion, sitting down roughly on the older woman's face. 

"Let me feel that tongue," said Summer tersely, as she adjusted herself on the mouth beneath her. She reached down and twisted her mother's nipples roughly. Summer had discovered early on in their training that the older woman often needed a little extra prodding to quicken her tongue.

Her mother yelped and stiffened her tongue, pushing it deep into her daughter's vagina and flicking it rhythmically, the way she knew she liked. 

"There it is. That's a good mommy," said the daughter soothingly. She released her mother's nipples and began to grind herself methodically against her face. 

It was six-thirty in the morning. Both women had been awake since five. They had performed their daily ablutions and enemas and shaved each other meticulously. Then they had attended to each other's plugging. 

The morning ass plugging was quickly becoming the most arduous part of their routine. Their future mistress wanted their asses stretched out for use in the brothels, so the man had been steadily increasing the size of the plugs he laid out for them each night. The process was made more difficult by the fact that they were forbidden to use lubrication other than their own secretions and saliva. 

The slaves quickly realized the best way to work in the larger plugs was to soften their sphincters with a thorough rimming, working their tongues as deeply as possible in to each other's slackening orifices. Then the slave being plugged would stand and hold her ass cheeks apart as the other woman knelt behind her and gently twisted the large bulbous head in to place, licking around the rim of the anus for added lubrication as needed. 

This morning, each slave wore a four inch butt plug, by far the largest yet. It had taken them fifteen minutes each to get them in. 

Finally, after they were successfully plugged, each slave had done her hair and make-up the way master liked. 

Now it was time to complete their matins. 

The daughter looked down at her mother's body as she rode her tongue. Her breasts, belly and bare vulva were criss-crossed with red welts from the daily punishment sessions. 

As she felt her orgasm steadily approaching, the daughter reached down and absently fondled her mother's engorged pussy with the fingers of her right hand. She played lazily with the labia, still fat with arousal following her recent orgasms. She noticed a shiny patina of moisture above the clit and leaned down and casually lapped it up. She felt herself quicken slightly at the familiar tangy taste. 

Summer kept her hand pressed lightly against her mother's pussy. She shifted slightly on her perch, opening herself further to her mom's probing tongue. She felt a bubble of arousal rise and then trickle out of her pussy directly into the older woman's open mouth. Her mother swallowed greedily, moaning appreciatively into her sex, then began to rock her pelvis back and forth rhythmically against her daughter's hand. 

Summer smiled thinly to herself. A week ago, her mother, Madeline Bennett, had been a happily married well-respected professor of economics. Now she was acting like an insatiable lesbian tart. Three orgasms in thirty minutes and still she wanted more. She supposed the woman couldn't help herself. Both slaves were being systematically trained to equate the taste of pussy with their own sexual fulfillment. Being forced to sixty-nine each other for hours at a time created quite a powerful circuit of operant conditioning. It was only natural that both women would eventually find themselves aroused by the mere scent or taste of the other. 

Summer bucked up and down on her mother's tongue for a few more seconds until she felt the wave cresting, then let herself be pulled gently down the other side as her orgasm began to take her. 

She had the presence of mind to hold up her right hand for the surveillance cameras with two fingers held up, indicating her second orgasm of the day. She knew her master would be keeping careful track when he reviewed the video feed. 

It turned out to be a wet one. 

She heard her mother sputter and slurp for a full minute as she tried to keep up with the flow. 

When the older woman had recovered from the deluge and was breathing normally again beneath her, Summer leaned forward and gently took her mother's distended clit in to her mouth. She suckled it gently, for a few seconds, then began to to flick it rapidly with the tip of her tongue. Again, she felt a tingle of excitement as she savored the taste of her mother's essence. 

Summer needed one more orgasm. They would rock this one out together. It would be quicker that way, anyway. Neither of them openly acknowledged it, but both women had developed a unique Pavlovian reflex: it was simply easier to cum with the taste of pussy in their mouths. 

Five minutes later, they were done. They gently licked each other clean as they had been trained, then got out of bed. 

Both women fixed their hair and touched up their make-up in the mirror above the sink. As they looked at their reflections, the slaves no longer took notice of the thick, steel collars locked around their necks. They were also now completely oblivious to their constant nudity. Neither woman had worn a stitch of clothing since being captured almost a week earlier. 

When they were satisfied with their appearance, the slaves knelt on the floor by the foot of the bed and waited patiently to greet their master.

Each woman was lost in her own thoughts. 

Tomorrow would be their last day in the hated cell. Their master had told them was he going to sedate them and pack them in to puppy crates for the three hour drive in the back of a truck to the port city of Ensenada. There, they would be placed aboard a container ship for the three-week sea voyage to Thailand where they would be delivered to the villa of their new owner, Mistress Mali. 

Both slaves had vowed that they were not going to let that happen. They were going to fight. 

"Tomorrow's the big day," whispered the mother quietly to her daughter. "Do you think we'll be able to do it?"

"Fucking-A we can do it, Mom," said the daughter resolutely. "Just try not fuck it up. Remember, when he puts it in your mouth, bite down hard until your teeth touch, then shake your head from side to side. Bite it off right at the root."

"Then we hold him down, right?" said the mother fiercely. "Don't forget that. If he makes it to the gate, we're dead."

"I know, Mom. Please. We've gone over this a hundred times. He's a dead man. It's happening tomorrow. I only hope he chooses me first," she said savagely. "I'm not just going to rip it off. I'm going to eat it. I'm going to make him watch me wolf it down before he dies."

The mother let the remark go. She shifted uncomfortably on her knees and studied her daughter out of the corner of her eye. Summer had been acting increasingly remote and hostile over last few days. She wondered if her daughter somehow blamed her for their predicament. Or maybe she was simply buckling under the strain. Trapped in a cage, with her life on the line, it was no surprise that Summer was acting more like a feral animal than a loving daughter. 

The mother sighed and set the thought aside. It would all be over soon. She looked down at the floor and thought about the past week of training.

After their initial capture, things had quickly fallen in to a routine. The slaves would rise at five and clean, shave and plug themselves, then attend to their matins. Their master would bring down their breakfast at seven sharp. 

They were being sold as pleasure slaves who would eventually end up in the brothels, so their training consisted of various exercises designed to improve their sexual performance and desirability. They were also physically punished to break down any resistance and instill obedience. 

Mornings were spent on suck-training. The women learned to suck cock the way their master liked. They would start by licking and sucking his balls together, then they would take turns bobbing up and down on his nine-inch shaft, while the other slave alternated between licking his balls and rimming his ass. When he came, each slave was trained to hold the offering in her mouth until instructed to swallow it or share it in a kiss with her fellow slave. 

The slaves spent at least one hour per day on their knees practicing their deep throat-skills on the cock-board. This was a wooden board affixed to the wall in the corner of the cell with six rubber cocks of increasing length and girth arranged horizontally at mouth height from left to right. The smallest cock was a slim six inches, the largest, ten inches and as thick as a can of soda. The smooth rubber surfaces of the dildos were discolored with age and pitted with innumerable bite marks from the dozens of slaves, male and female, who had used the board to train their throats over the years. 

Mother and daughter were ordered to do ten laps on the cock-board per day before lunch. The object of the exercise was to learn to swallow the entire length of each phallus so that the slave's nose ended up pressed against the board. The cock was only counted as "passed" if the slave could hold this position, nose-to-board for one full minute, while breathing steadily through her nose. 

The final lap of each day was graded carefully by their master. The winner received an extra slice of Bologna with lunch. 

The loser had her udders whipped with a short quirt. 

After lunch, it was time for hole-training. Both slaves were strapped to the matching breeding benches in the middle of the cell. These were broad, sturdy wooden horses covered with thick, black leather padding. They had adjustable knee-rests and arm-rests along the side equipped with leather cuffs. The slaves were placed face down on the bench, with their heads hanging off the front. The leather cuffs were buckled around the arms, wrists, legs and ankles. Thick leather straps were then cinched around the torso and the waist to secure the belly of each slave flat against the bench. A D-ring at the head of the horse was fitted win a short chain which was attached to the slave's collar. 

The net effect was that each slave was effectively immobilized in the all-fours position with her mouth, anus and vagina at perfect cock-height for leisurely fucking in the standing position. The benches were arranged facing each other so both women were forced to watch each other being violated daily. 

The man usually started with Summer. There was something about the look in the mother's eyes as she watched her daughter being mounted from behind that never failed to excite him. Hole-training consisted of the man fucking the slave's mouth, cunt and ass repeatedly. The slaves were taught to contract their cunts and tighten their anal sphincters rhythmically around the man's cock to enhance his pleasure. Sometimes he could go for a full hour before finishing in the slave's ass. When he was done, he would move on to the other woman who would suck him hard again. 

When they weren't being used sexually by their master or practicing their oral skills on each other, the slaves were subjected to punishment training. They were methodically cropped, belted, spanked, flogged and paddled on their udders, cunts and asses. Their nipples and labia were clamped and stretched with heavy dangling weights, which they sometimes wore for hours at a time. 

For the most part, the punishments inflicted were fairly low impact, designed to engender physical submission rather than to cause bodily harm. The intent was more psychological than corporal. The slaves simply needed to understand that it was now perfectly normal for them to be punished by another human being at any time for no reason. 

When actual pain was required, the man used the five foot long single tail stock whip. Both slaves had had their breasts whipped on the first day of captivity with this whip and both slaves had gotten the message. They became obedient and enthusiastic students of their new trade. They would do anything to avoid tasting the "big whip" again. So far, they had been successful. 

The mother was snapped out of her revelry by the familiar sound of a key turning in the lock of the heavy steel door set in to the far wall of the large anteroom outside their cell. Both slaves looked up in unison as the door swung open and their master stepped in to the room. 

He was naked as usual and carrying a large breakfast tray. His gun metal gray hair was slicked back on his head from a recent shower. Both slaves eyed him warily through the bars. The mother was again struck by the bland normality of his appearance. He was medium height and weight and wore steel-rimmed spectacles. He looked more like a high school shop teacher than a sadistic rapist and slave-trader. 

The man motioned the slaves over to the bars and handed the tray to the mother through the specially built slot in the gate. 

The mother put the tray down on the floor just inside the cell. Both slaves squatted down on their haunches, wincing as the large plugs shifted uncomfortably in their asses. They began to eat greedily. It was always the same meal: oatmeal with raisins, wheat toast and orange juice. 

The man took a short stool from under the nearby work bench set along the wall and sat down outside the cell to watch the women eat. His flaccid, but overly large phallus dangled obscenely over the edge of his seat. 

"Good morning, cunts" he said pleasantly. 

"Good morning, sir," both women answered in unison, smiling up like lunatics. 

"Today is a big day," he said formally. "Your last full day of training before we embark on our journey to meet your new mistress."

The women said nothing. 

"I want to start off today with a friendly warning," he said. He stood up abruptly and began pacing back and forth in front of the cell. 

"Remember, this is not my first rodeo. I've been in this situation dozens of times. I know that some slaves at this point contemplate a last-minute bid for escape. They know that once they are on the ship, it will be too late, so they figure why not roll the dice here?"

The women studiously examined their food. They did not look up or exchange glances. 

The man stopped pacing and stood facing the squatting women. 

"I'm telling you to forget it," he said evenly. "As I already told you, I change the access code to the cell lock daily. Even if you somehow overpowered me, there is no way you can get out. There are no other houses within ten miles. If your get trapped in the cell, you will die slowly of starvation."

He reached up and gripped the bars of the cell. 

"I suggest you both surrender yourselves to your fate. You are slaves now. Embrace it! Make the best of it. Your old lives are over. Things will go easier for you both, once you give up all hope. I've captured over a hundred slaves. None of them have ever gotten away. There is no escape. Ever."

He sat back down again and put his hands on his knees. 

"Having said that, I understand that you may have questions about what is going to happen to you. I have found that the best approach with new slaves is to be honest and upfront about what will be expected of them. This helps them accept their new situation."

He spread his hands magnanimously in front of him. 

"I have been reasonably satisfied with your training thus far, so as a reward I will give you this one opportunity to ask me anything you want."

The man crossed his arms across his chest and waited patiently. 

It was the mother who spoke first. 

"Why us, sir?" she blurted out. She had been quietly pondering the question for days. 

The man was obviously expecting the question. He smiled down at the middle-aged woman who only days ago had been teaching grad students about Keynesian economics. 





Sold In To Slavery Pt. 04



"Your book," he said simply. 

"My book? Sir, I don't understand."

"I wasn't even looking for you two. I was on your campus to take a girl for a customer in Qatar. He's a regular client who likes blond beach bunny types. He uses them up pretty quick. I had one all picked out and was going to grab her the next day. I had a little time to kill, so I went in to the campus bookstore and there was this big display of your newest book at the end of the aisle."

The man paused and absently scratched his balls. 

"Anyway, I saw your picture on the back of your book. That really is a great headshot. Then I read the dust jacket and it said you had a daughter. I knew Mistress Mali was looking for a new set of mother-daughter slaves and here was an hot momma dropped right in my lap. You'd be surprised how hard it is to find an attractive pair in the right age range."

The man paused and looked over at the daughter. 

"Then I went online and looked up your daughter on the various social media outlets and it turned out she was even hotter than you are," he said brightly. 

The man turned his gaze back to the kneeling mother. 

"Then I see a poster that says you're having this big party the next day to celebrate your book's release and obviously your whole family was going to be there, so I dropped the Qatar deal and went for you two. The Mistress Mali contract was a much sweeter deal, anyway."

The man held out his hands almost apologetically. 

"So, if it wasn't for that book, neither one of you would be here right now," he laughed. 

The mother bowed her head and stared at the floor. She could feel her daughter staring daggers at her from two feet away. 

It was the daughter who spoke next. 

"How much, sir?" she whispered. "How much are you getting paid for us?"

The man considered the question. For a moment, it appeared he would not answer, then he shrugged his shoulders. 

"Two hundred and fifty grand for you, one hundred grand for your mom," he said matter-of-factly. 

The professor felt like she had been punched in the stomach. One hundred thousand dollars for her life? She had five times as much in her 401k plan. 

"Why the big difference in price, sir?" croaked the professor. She couldn't help herself. 

"No offense, Professor, but you're forty-three years old. Not much time to recoup your purchase price in the brothels. Nobody wants to fuck a fifty year-old whore."

The mother felt a momentary surge of hope. 

"What happens then, sir? When I'm done with the...brothels. Will she let me go?" She caught herself and looked quickly over at her daughter and then back at the man. "I mean...will she let us go?"

The man laughed out loud. 

"Of course not," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Slaves are sold for life. When you're no longer able to work in the brothels, you'll be sent to the toilets. That's where both of you will end up eventually if you live long enough," he added casually. 

The mother felt true despair for the first time since waking up in the cell almost a week ago. The bottom kept dropping out from under her. At every turn, things just kept getting worse. 

She decided to try one last gambit. 

"Sir, I don't suppose we can buy our way out of this," said the mother desperately. "My husband is a powerful man in the government. We have money. I'm sure I could get you over a million dollars if you let us go."

The man laughed again. 

"Sorry, professor. I know all about your big shot husband in the state department, but you don't fuck with Mistress Mali. I've already sent her your pictures and she has accepted you both for training. The last slaver who tried to double cross her ended up in the sissy stable. He was a good friend of mine, but I couldn't help him. That was four years ago. He's a ladyboy now, named Cassandra. Mali ordered him to blow me last time I was there. He's damn good at it."

The man absently reached down with his right hand and began to play with his cock. He looked down at it lovingly. 

"Can you tell us anything else about our...owner?" asked Summer haltingly. 

"Mistress Mali?" he said brightly. "She's a great gal. Sadistic as hell, but she sure knows how to throw a party. I'd say she runs about two-fifty, three hundred pounds. Complete dyke, all the way. Sits around her villa in a big moo moo with nothing underneath, except her current tongue-slave, of course" he laughed. 

"Why mothers and daughters, sir?" This question was from the professor. 

"Who knows? That's just her thing. Always western women. Always mother and daughter pairs. Maybe she had issues with her own mom. I know she uses them pretty hard," he said ominously. 

He sat back and crossed his legs, warming to the subject. 

"At first she just kept the mothers and daughters as her personal house slaves. Then she realized that the customers in her brothels would pay a lot of money to fuck a mother and daughter together. So, now it's a matter of economics. She's developed a nice little niche in the sex tourism market. At last count, I think she told me she had twelve sets of mother-daughter pairs working full time in the brothels. Some are from Europe, but most are American. They all started out as her personal slaves. It really is quite an efficient operation."

The man uncrossed his legs and looked down at his cock. Both women were not surprised to see that he was already starting to get an erection. 

"But she always keeps one special pair for herself in the villa," he continued. "Until she tires of them. Then she sends them to the brothels and brings in new talent."

He paused. 

"Like you," he said, looking the professor in the eyes. 

The man stood and looked at his watch. 

"Now, if there are no further questions, we really should get started. We've got a big day ahead of us." 

The man snapped his fingers. 

"Center of the room, cunts. Inspection position."

Both women scrambled to their feet and bounded over to the middle of the room. They stood straight with their legs spread wide and their hands laced behind their necks and looked down at the ground.

He began to circle the two women slowly. When the man was behind the mother, he paused and reached out with his right hand to pinch her ass. 

"Open those legs wider, slut. I want to see those cunt lips pouting at me."

The professor immediately shifted on her feet to spread her legs a few inches wider. The man withdrew walked around to face the professor. He reached down and cupped her vagina proprietarily with his right hand before slapping it gently with the palm several times. 

"Not bad," said the man withdrawing his hand. "Now, turn around both of you, bend over and spread your ass cheeks," he said sharply. "Time to check your grooming."

The women were used to this command by now. Both slaves immediately spun around and bent over at the waist, pulling their ass cheeks apart with both hands. 

The man put began to systematically inspect each woman for stray hairs. He ran his fingers up and down ass cracks and taints, then took his time feeling around the rim of each woman's anus, pulling back slightly on the butt plugs to stretch the skin taught. Finally, he got down on his knees behind each woman and prized apart the the lips of their vaginas with his left hand, while running the fingers of his right hand along the edges of both outer and inner labia to make sure even the finest hairs had been removed. 

"Not bad, cunts," he said as he stood. "You've been doing a reasonable job with your shaving."

"Thank you, sir," both women said softly. They remained in position, holding open their ass cheeks awkwardly. 

"Resume inspection position," barked the man. 

Both slaves immediately complied. 

The man walked over to the rack of whips by the bed and selected the five-foot single tail whip. He stepped back over to the slaves and began to circle them slowly, coiling the whip menacingly in his left hand. Both slaves' eyes widened at the sight of the big whip. 

When the man was standing in front of the mother, he paused. 

"Present that cunt to me," he said casually. "Stick it out. Put it on display." He began lightly tapping her bare vulva with the whip handle. 

The mother winced slightly, but did not pull away. She tilted her pelvis and thrust out her pussy toward the man. 

"Very good, Professor," he said withdrawing the whip handle and shifting it to his right hand. "I think we've got the angle now. Here, let me give it a try."

In one fluid motion, the man stepped back and spun around, swinging the whip in a short, brutal arc. There was a sharp cracking sound as the stiff braided leather tip landed directly between the older woman's pussy lips. 

The man's hands were so quick that the professor had no time to register what was happening. One second, she was standing there and thrusting out her pussy and the next there was an impossibly hot blossom of fire between her legs, followed by a rippling wave of pure, pulsating, agony. 

In experienced hands, the amount of kinetic energy produced by the impact of a five-foot single tail whip is extraordinary. It has to do with basic physics and the preservation of momentum as the wave-form travels from the handle to the tip. The bottom line is that all of the energy built up along the entire length of the whip gets concentrated in to the terminal centimeter at impact. When applied against the flesh of a human being, this energy gets transferred directly to the victim in the form of a burst of blunt-force trauma conducted across a small area of contact about the size of a postage stamp. 

In other words, it really, really hurts. 

For the mother, the pain was a completely alien physical phenomenon. Quite simply, it was the most intense quantum of agony she had ever experienced in her forty three years on planet earth. It was like having the geometric center of her vagina stung by a bee, zapped by a taser and burned with a blow torch at the same time. The net result was an instantaneous hard reboot of her entire nervous system. 

She did not remember falling to the ground or moving her hands reflexively to cover herself. She had no recollection of starting to scream. Nor did she feel her bladder let go. 

The man stood over her patiently. He had seen it all before. He waited for the initial neurological electrical storm to pass. Based on past experience, he knew it would take from one to three minutes before the mother would be able to once again process information from the outside world. 

While the professor basically flopped around on the floor like a carp and shrieked bloody murder, the man calmly looked over at the daughter. She was standing stock-still in her inspection position. Her eyes were practically bugging out of her head. She was hyperventilating in terror. The man noticed with satisfaction that the girl was trembling. 

Things were moving along nicely. 

The man looked down at the squirming figure of the mother. She had stopped screaming and was now mewling softly in the fetal position with her hands clasped firmly against her injured sex. 

"On your knees, cunt," said the man curtly. 

The woman didn't move. 

The man pulled his right arm back and struck the floor with the whip, just inches from the older woman's face. 

The professor screamed and scrambled to her knees. 

The man looked down at the floor and pretended to spot the puddle of urine between the slave's legs for the first time. 

"Oh, my goodness! Did you wet yourself?" the man asked in mock consternation. "Such a dirty girl you are, Professor."

The man snapped his fingers. 

"Please stand, Professor and resume your position," he said curtly. 

Still whimpering, the woman began to pull herself slowly to her feet. Her left foot slipped in the expanding puddle of urine, but she was able to right herself. After a few moments, she had resumed her previous inspection position. 

The man walked over to the mother. He placed the handle of the whip under her chin and looked in to the slave's eyes. 

"I reviewed the video feed from this morning. I do it every morning. Nothing fancy, just fast-forward thought the night and your morning matins to make sure you don't get up to any deviltry while my back is turned."

He transferred the whip to his left hand and used his right hand to clasp the professor under the chin.

"Today, I noticed something funny. Your daughter made you cum three times in a row in only twenty-six minutes, but when it was your turn to reciprocate, you lounged between her legs for over forty-five minutes and produced only one feeble orgasm. Then you made her sit on your face and basically do all the work for her final two cums."

The man let go of the mother's face. 

"Present your cunt," said the man curtly, transferring the whip again to his right hand. 

The mother began to whimper softly, but complied, tilting her pelvis forward and offering her wounded pussy for inspection. 

The man man bent down and examined the mother's pale, bald vulva. There was an angry red welt bisecting her outer pussy lips about halfway up. He congratulated himself on his aim. A clit-shot would have been too much for the older slave. She would have been incapacitated for hours. A lip-shot like this was an attention-getter for sure, but not overly disabling. 

"Consider this a warning," said the man as he straightened up and looked the older slave in the face. "It's obvious to me that you're not taking your oral training seriously. I can't deliver a slave with a lazy tongue to Mistress Mali. I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

The mother looked down at the floor and continued to whimper softly. 

The man paused, then his eyes fell on the puddle of urine on the floor. He turned to Summer. 

"Lick up that mess, cunt," he barked sharply. 

Summer didn't hesitate. She bounded over to the cooling puddle of urine and got down on all fours, then lowered her face to the floor and began to lap up the urine, making loud slurping sounds as she curled her tongue to funnel the acrid liquid into her mouth as rapidly as possible. 

Summer had her ass to her master as she lapped up her mother's mess. The man looked down at her shapely rump, then absently reached down and flicked the large butt plug. As usual, using the whip had aroused him. He looked down at his semi-rigid cock, then again at Summer's tempting ass. 

He snapped his fingers at the mother. 

"On your knees. Fluff me up. Quickly now. Worship position," the man said sharply. 

The mother immediately dropped to her knees behind her daughter and crossed her wrists at the small of her back. She opened her mouth wide and took in the man's rapidly hardening cock. Without being told, she swirled her tongue underneath the head for several seconds, then expertly deep-throated the nine-inch shaft to the hilt. She swallowed several times around the entire length of his cock, letting her throat muscles contract rhythmically for a few moments, then began to piston her head up and down the shaft, maintains perfect suction throughout each excursion. She looked up into the man's eyes as she had been trained. 

The man stared down and contemplated his options. 

"You can sure suck cock," he said almost gently. "I'll give you that. It's your pussy-eating that worries me."

Abruptly, he withdrew his cock from the older slave's mouth. He got down on his knees behind Summer and began to roughly pull the plug from the younger slave's ass. The anus gaped obscenely as the large head of the plug came out with an audible plop. 

"Open," he said to the kneeling mother. 

The professor opened her mouth wide to receive the four-inch plug. The man had to reach down and hold the back of her head with one hand as the other forced the plug past her lips. The slave's cheeks bulged and her lips flattened around base of the large silicone protuberance. She stared straight ahead and remained kneeling, breathing evenly through her nose. 

Without preamble, the man leaned forward and thrust his hips forward, burying the entire length of his glistening cock into Summer's ass. 

The college girl grunted once, but did not interrupt the cadence of her slurping. She continued to methodically suck up the diminishing tide of her mother's urine from the floor. 

The man looked over at at the kneeling mother as he fucked Summer leisurely. 

"Why can't you be more like her, you dumb cow?" he asked crossly as he gently slapped Summer's ass cheeks with both hands. "She's energetic and obedient, never sullen and sluggish like you."

He continued to fuck for a few seconds before resuming the conversation. 

"And she licks cunt like a pro. That's obvious from the tapes. She's a natural don't you think?" he asked almost collegially. 

The mother hesitated for a second, then nodded. After all, her daughter had just made her cum three times in less than a half hour. 

"If only you could be more like her, I'm sure Mistress Mali would be happy," he said wistfully. 

The man turned his attention back to summer and began to increase the pace of his fucking. The slurping sounds had gradually diminished as the younger slave's tongue tracked down the last remnants of her mother's urine. The man was gratified to see the slave's head bobbing up and down in a steady rhythm as she transitioned from slurping to systematically licking up the residual moisture from the cold concrete. 

The man reached over and cupped the mother's chin as he fucked. 

"How can I make you more like her?" he asked himself as he looked into the older slaves eyes.

Then he froze. He stopped fucking and remained still with his cock in Summer's ass. He was gratified to feel the slave's anal sphincter continue to contract rhythmically around his shaft. He looked back and forth between mother and daughter for several seconds, then smiled broadly. 

"I've got it!" he said brightly. 

The man let go of the mother's chin and placed both his hands on Summer's hips and began to fuck her in earnest. After only a minute, he exploded deep into her bowels. He pulled out and stood up, then reached down and pulled the plug from the mother's mouth. 

"Clean her," he said brusquely. 

The mother got down on all fours and nuzzled her face between her daughter's cheeks, extending her tongue deep inside her dilated anus. She began to suck and lick the cum out of the rim of her ass as she had been trained. 

Summer, having completed her task, remained still as her mother attended to her. It was a familiar ritual. She shifted her knees slightly further apart to allow her probing tongue easier access to her depths. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Summer saw the man step over toward her. She tilted her head back and opened her mouth to receive his softening cock. She gently sucked and licked it clean for several minutes, until he withdrew it from her mouth and walked away. 

The man sat down on the bed a few feet away and looked down at the younger slave. 

"I have a proposition for you, Summer," he said quietly. "It concerns your mother."

Summer looked up sharply. The man had never called her by name before. He aways called her cunt or whore. The man smiled down at her, obviously amused by her surprise. 

"It's clear that what I'm doing here isn't working," said the man evenly. "I don't know if she's too old or too lazy, but the bottom line is that your mom can't eat pussy worth shit. I simply cannot deliver her to Mistress Mali in her current state, but I can't think of anything else I can do to improve her skills."

Summer just stared up at the man in silence. Her mother continued to slurp loudly in the background. Summer felt a trickle of semen leak down her taint and idly lifted one leg slightly until she felt her mother's tongue track it down. 

"You, on the other hand, are great at eating cunt. You have a natural aptitude. The video doesn't lie," he said, pointing up at the surveillance camera in the corner. "One time, I saw you make her cum on less than a minute!"




Sold In To Slavery Pt. 04



Summer didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything. 

"We have to find some way to transfer your skills to your mother, Summer. If not, I'm afraid she won't last a week with Mistress Mali before being sent to the toilets. I mean it. I've seen it before."

Summer felt her mother's tongue slacken in her anus. The older woman was obviously listening closely to the conversation. 

"And not only that, but Mali might not even pay up if she's a dud. I'm expected to get the slaves trained reasonably well in the month I have them. Mali always tries them out as soon as they arrive. If your mother flops, there's no way I'll get full price."

Finally Summer spoke. 

"What can I do, sir? I mean I let her practice on me whenever she wants, what else can I do?"

The man paused for effect, then dropped his bombshell. 

"You can take over her training. I want you to be her mistress. I'm going to make her your pussy slave."

Summer felt her mother's tongue stop for a few seconds, then resume more slowly than ever. 

"But I..." Summer stammered. 

The man held up his hand. 

"Hear me out, Summer. This is a big opportunity for you. Your old life is over. Now it's time to make the best of your current predicament. Mistress Mali keeps several of her slaves in-house permanently as over-seers. They are never sent to the brothels or the toilets. Instead they help out around the household and keep the other slaves in line. If you can show Mistress Mali, that you are capable of taking charge, there's a good chance she'll keep you on as an over-seer. Permanently. She's always looking for good help."

The man paused and leaned forward. 

"And what better way is there to show that you can take charge, than delivering up your own mother up as a perfectly trained tongue slave to be used for Mistress Mali's amusement?"

Summer stared straight ahead. Her mind was reeling, silently calculating her options. Every time the man mentioned the brothels, a shudder of revulsion ran through her entire body. She knew she wouldn't last long being passed around from man to man in some dingy cell. What then? The toilets? She didn't even want to think about that. 

Now the man was offering her a way out. All she had to do was train her mother to eat pussy. How hard could that be? 

The man snapped his fingers. 

"That's enough, cunt," he said curtly to the mother. "Come kneel by the bed."

The mother gave her daughter's ass-crack one more long lick, then crawled over and knelt at her master's feet. 

The man looked down at Summer, then patted the bed next to him. 

"Please sit, Summer," he said calmly. "Tell me what you think of my proposal. Please."

Summer stood slowly and walked over to the bed. She sat down next to the man and looked at the man, then down at her kneeling mother. 

Summer stared down at the older slave for a long minute. Her mother kept her eyes on the floor. Summer had to admit she was intrigued. After being used and abused for almost an entire week, it felt good to be in a position of power. She decided to press her advantage. 

"If I do this," said Summer, shifting her gaze to the man. "If I help you train her properly, I'll get a break, right? No more beatings."

The man nodded. "That's right," he said evenly. 

She paused and eyed the man warily. 

"And no more fucking," she added hopefully. 

The man smiled. He said nothing for several seconds, then raised both hands out in front of his chest, as if stopping traffic. 

"Sure. You'll be like my partner. You don't even have to eat her pussy anymore. You're trained up. I can see that. It's your mom I'm worried about. Keep her as your pet for the whole journey. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. You'll have three weeks aboard ship to get her tongue in working order. I'll leave you alone as long as I see that she is making progress."

Summer paused for a few more seconds, then nodded to herself. 

"Okay, I'll do it," she said firmly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. 

"Great," said the man crisply. "Let's just get her udders whipped and then I'll leave you two alone for the day. I'm sure you'll want to to start her training right away."

Summer blinked. 

"Whipped? I don't think that's necessary sir. I'm pretty sure I have the situation in hand. If she's disobedient, I will let you know, of course," said Summer in what she hoped sounded like a casual, workaday voice. Her heart was hammering in her chest. "I mean, we should work on her pussy-eating, right?" she added lamely. 

The man stood. 

"No, Summer," he said reproachfully. "It's more than that. You need to own her. You need to take possession of her. She needs to fear you."

The man reached down and retrieved the big whip from the night stand. He handed it to Summer. 

"Convince me you have the power to command, Summer. Twenty strokes across the udders. I want to see twenty welts as thick as my thumb."

Summer paused, looking down at her mother. The whip felt alien and malevolent in her hand, like an exotic venomous snake. 

The man crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

"Of course, if you're not up to it, we can forget the whole thing," said the man icily. "We can continue the current training regimen for the next three weeks. I believe it's your turn on the breeding bench."

Summer remained stock still. She swallowed hard several times, then stood on shaky legs. She took a halting step and let the whip uncoil from her right hand, watching its length play out on to the floor. She hefted the handle to test the balance. 

Summer looked straight ahead into the middle distance for a full minute, then nodded curtly. 

The mother had been watching the exchange with increasing horror. Now she looked up at her daughter with wide-eyed panic. She had only felt the sting of big whip once on her first day of captivity. She had taken ten agonizing strokes to her breasts then. There was no way she could take twenty. No way. 

She began to rise to somehow get away, but the man was too quick. He reached down and grabbed her firmly by the collar and dragged her across the floor to the center of the cell. 

"Go get the handcuffs," he said to Summer. "I'll get her hooked up for you."

The mother's eyes were drawn up to the ceiling above her. There was a large iron meat hook embedded in the concrete. She had hung from the hook dozens of time during punishment training, but this was different. This was the big whip. 

Summer trotted over to the rack on the wall by the bed and retrieved the heavy steel cuffs. She avoided her mother's eyes as she handed them to the man. He expertly cuffed the older woman's trembling wrists in front, then hoisted them up and looped the short chain over the hook. The slave was forced up on her tiptoes and began to dangle helplessly from the ceiling. 

"Wait! Wait! Wait!" said the mother, starting to babble. "Please let me eat her again! Please. Oh, God. I'll do better. Please give me another chance!"

"Not yet," said the the man softly. "Time for you to take your medicine. Then you can learn to please your new mistress."

The mother began to crane her neck over her shoulder to catch her daughter's eye. 

"Wait, Summer! Hold it! Let's talk, okay? You don't have to do this. We can still fight him together! Please, honey!"

The man walked over to the bedside table and retrieved a spandex slave hood. It had a mouth hole, but no eye holes. He handed the hood to Summer. 

"Best to keep them hooded for an extended whipping," he said matter-of-factly. "Keeps them from squirming too much. It's a mercy, really. They don't have to watch the blows coming."

Summer stepped up to her mom. The older woman's eyes were bulging in terror. She was hyperventilating. Summer bent forward and kissed her mother's cheek. 

"I'm sorry, Mom. I just can't take it any more," she said softly, then pulled the hood over her head in one smooth motion. 

Her older slave began to scream and twirl around on the hook, turning this way and that. She seemed to sniff the air and turn her face from one direction to the next, as if she might be able sense the blow coming and somehow ward it off before it actually landed. 

Summer gripped the whip. She coiled it in her left hand as she had seen the man do, then pulled her right arm back and let it fly, throwing a practice stroke at the floor. Her mother shrieked at the loud crack and seemed to stiffen involuntarily. A small trickle of urine dribbled out from between her legs onto the floor. 

The mother spun around in blind panic. Time seemed to stand still. When the first hit came, it took her breath away. She heard whistling whoosh, followed by a sharp crack before she felt the impact on her left breast. The soft globe seemed to explode in a blossom of pure molten agony. She tried to scream, but had no breath to do so. 

"Well done!" said the man giddily. "A perfect hit on the first try!" 

The next hit went low, striking the soft flesh of the mother's belly. The slave shrieked and tried to double over, but was held fast by the hook. She lifted her legs involuntarily to protect her midriff. 

"Take a few throws at the back to get your rhythm," said the man patiently. "Don't aim, just pull back and let it go. The whip will find its mark."

The mother felt five crisp blows across the small of her back. She stood up on tiptoes and arched her back in a futile attempt to decrease the force of each impact. She was screaming continuously now. 

She felt her left breast grabbed roughly. 

"Aim here, so you can get both udders at once," said the man evenly. 

The whip sung, whistling loudly through the air. 

The mother danced below the hook like a puppet, alternately screaming, begging and sobbing. Her bladder let go again after the fifth stroke across her breasts. 

Summer ignored her mother's screams and swung the whip with increasing precision. She was conscious of the man watching her closely. She knew he was grading her performance, testing her resolve. The younger woman redoubled her efforts. 

She circled and danced around dangling slave, stepping lightly to keep her balance. She began to hop daintily between strokes and step in to each successively harder strike. Soon, she began to hit exactly where she aimed. 

The mother was lost in a black chasm of pain. Her knees had buckled and her shoulders ached as she dangled listlessly beneath the hook in a grim pirouette of despair. She dreaded the whistling whoosh that preceded each impact, but no longer tried to avoid the whip. Dodging was over. There was only the burning pain of the lash. 

Dimly, the mother was aware of the man's voice. 

"That's ten. Good one, Summer! Finish strong now."

The older slave heard her daughter grunt with effort, then came the awful whistling sound again, followed by the loudest crack yet. Both of her nipples exploded simultaneously into diamond-bright shards of agony. 

Summer finally found her rhythm. She grunted with exertion as she launched each throw. 

The mother's universe collapsed into a dreadful, implacable cadence of misery.

Grunt...whoosh...crack...grunt...whoosh...crack...grunt...whoosh...crack. 

Then came a new sound, even more horrifying than all the others. It was a familiar, musical sound that echoed loudly in the mother's mind, then seemed to leach down into her soul, extinguishing all hope. 

It was the sound of her daughter laughing.