0 comments/ 13682 views/ 5 favorites Enslaving Rachel Ch. 01 By: Bella_Mariposa Please bear with me for subsequent chapters. I'm really slow, but I promise to update periodically. :-) Constructive criticism is always welcome, but this story is not peer edited. Hopefully I didn't screw it up too badly. Prologue It stood at attention, arms behind its back, hands clasping its elbows. It knew to stand very still and pay close attention to the handler's cane. It wanted Mistress to be proud of it. Many people were watching. It was nervous, but Mistress was calm, with a secretive smile on her face, so it relaxed, knowing Mistress was pleased with its performance so far. It knew today was very important to Mistress, and did not want to disappoint her. It felt the touch of the cane on its wrists, then on the back of its head. Obediently, its arms uncrossed and went to the back of its head under the long ponytail, precisely where the cane tapped. Another series of taps caused it to turn gracefully in a small circle, then bend over with its ass facing the avidly watching crowd. Conversation flowed over it, but it kept its focus solely on the handler, and paid it little heed until it heard Mistress's given name. It wasn't allowed to use it, of course, but still knew what it was from before. A gentleman, dressed more casually than most, in a blue sweater and dress pants, came to speak to Mistress. "It seems to be very well behaved Miranda. Did you mention it was wild caught?" Its Mistress gave a small, pleased smile. "Yes, actually. The husband gave it to me for training about 9 months ago. You should have seen it. A total mess! Bad hair, overweight, drank too much, totally unhealthy and unattractive." "I'm very impressed," the gentleman said. "It's a lovely creature, and does you credit. Does the owner wish to sell?" "He hasn't decided yet, I'm afraid. He's found a new wife, and both of them enjoy abusing it. I'd like to convince him to sell though. It's a waste to see such a promising prospect misused. It would make anyone a lovely odalisque or concubine, yet they treat it like a galley slave." It allowed the remainder of the conversation to go unheard, concentrating on the direction of the handler as it moved through the instructions. It flowed through positions, as if dancing with the handler's cane, and became lost in the motion. It was brought abruptly out of its reverie by a sharp tap on its knees instructing it to kneel. It knelt, with more speed than grace, and was brought back to attention by the sharp crack of the handler's cane across its unprotected ass. It flushed in embarrassment at being so clumsy, while the gathered crowd laughed. The skin between Mistress's eyebrows puckered in annoyance, and it cringed, knowing it would be punished later. Mistress's punishments were...creative when she was displeased. "Has it had any oral training Miranda?" Mistress allowed her face to relax, showing no more outward sign of her displeasure. "It's had some, but unfortunately its owner hasn't allowed its skill to fully develop. I'm hoping to have more time with it soon so I can evaluate its skills more fully, and correct any errors." She looked pensive for a moment. "It does surprisingly well for women though. I assume the new wife has taken it in hand for that. I've used it successfully as a reward for my other females." It burned with shame at Mistress's description of its skills. It always tried very hard, which saved it from many punishments, but it knew that without the opportunity to practice, it was going to be difficult to improve. For a fleeting moment, it felt rage at Master and his wife, but did not allow its feelings to show on its face. Jealous and spoiled, they gave it almost no time with Mistress, yet harshly punished any infraction, real or imagined. Things that could have been avoided with training. "Well, let's have a volunteer come up to test it out. It sounds like you're not working under the best conditions, but it shows a great deal of promise from what I've seen so far." It heard a male laugh from behind. "I'll try it out. Even a bad blow job is still better than none at all." Many people laughed, and it cringed in shame. It was directed by the handler's cane to crawl to a rather portly gentleman in a finely cut grey suit, which almost disguised the paunch of his belly. He had a thick head of graying brown hair, cut very precisely, and kind blue eyes. It knelt at his feet as he unbuttoned his trousers. His cock was only half hard, but long and thick, nestled in a patch of wiry black hair. "Use only your mouth. No hands," he ordered. The man had a thick Yorkshire accent that was difficult to understand. It didn't completely comprehend all of the man's instructions but did understand that it wasn't to use its hands. It nodded obediently, murmuring "Yes Sir." It had an opportunity now to please Mistress, if it did well and pleased this man. It desperately wanted to make up for the kneeling mistake earlier and make Mistress proud again. It tried to recall the few training sessions it was able to have. Slowly, it touched the tip of its tongue to the man's glans, then flicked its tongue quickly around the mushroom head in teasing little licks. The man's breath came faster, and it used its tongue to explore the weeping slit at the end, rolling the precum around the head. It kept its eyes firmly fixed on the man's face to judge his reaction to its work. The man settled back in his chair, idly playing with its ponytail. It panicked for a moment, thinking the man had grown bored with its attentions, but the man let out a deep groan of pleasure as its clever tongue again found the weeping slit at the top of his shaft. The man's shaft twitched when it curled its tongue around the head, pulling it fully into its mouth. It sucked. Once, twice, three times, before releasing the head to trail its tongue down the shaft to the sac nestled underneath. It pressed its face into the man's groin, tonguing each ball, sucking at them, before drawing its tongue below his sac to the sensitive perineum. It felt the man's hand tighten in its hair, almost pulling. It quickly touched a tentative tongue to the man's rosebud ass, then licked up his shaft again. The man growled in pleasure, hands tightening in its hair. "Damn, this one is good Miranda. You say it's had no training?" He gasped as it swallowed his thick cock to the back of its throat, choking a little on it, sending ribbons of saliva trailing down its jaw. "I have to know when the auction is when it goes up for sale!" It hummed just a little in pleasure at his words, making his cock twitch almost hard enough to make it lose its grip on it. The man groaned, then wrapped both hands around its throat as he thrust firmly into its wet mouth. It relaxed its jaw and tried to maintain as much suction as it could, but the brutal face fuck took almost all of its breath. Suddenly the man pulled his cock out of its mouth, releasing thick jets of cum onto the floor with a long groan. It was frightened, and didn't know what to do. Distressed, it looked for Mistress. Mistress walked toward it, then patted its head. She tilted its chin up so she could see its frightened green eyes. "You did very well little one. Do you know what to do now?" "No Mistress, I'm sorry," it whispered. Mistress smiled gently. "You ask him for permission to take his cum into yourself little one. This is something you should always do when you service a male, and is a mark of your respect and devotion." It opened its mouth to ask a question, but Mistress held up a hand. "Not now little one. All you have to remember is to ask permission, then use your tongue to clean it up – no matter where it is." She looked pointedly at the puddles of cum on the tile in front of it. "If you pleased him, then he might allow you to have his cum. If not..." she trailed off meaningfully. "Do you understand?" It shivered slightly at the firm tone of Mistress's voice. "Yes, Mistress, I understand." Mistress waved her hand vaguely in the direction of the man, thanking him for his assistance, then sauntered back to her chair. It looked at the man then. His face was still flushed; his breathing erratic. "May I have your cum Sir?" it whispered tentatively. The man waved his assent. As he watched, it lowered its head to the floor and began to lap up the thick strands of his cum on the floor. He felt his cock twitch again, watching the beautiful creature in front of him delicately touch its tongue to each puddle like a hummingbird at a feeder. When it finished, it sat up expectantly, unsure of what to do. "Very good. One more thing for you to do." He pointed to his flaccid penis. "You must always clean up after, even if you are not permitted to have cum." "Yes Sir. I understand," it murmured. It licked carefully and gently, making sure to remove all traces of cum and excess saliva from the man's cock and balls. When it finished, the man patted its head and snapped his fingers, calling the handler to retrieve it. The handler prodded it into the center of the room, where again it stood at attention. The people were very quiet, and it could see many of them looking at it with speculation, and a little avarice. It thought it had probably pleased Mistress, and was happy. Perhaps it wouldn't be punished tonight, but it held very little hope for that. "Well, that was delightful! Enthusiasm always makes up for lack of skill, Miranda dear. I really must be invited when it is auctioned," he said. Mistress caught its eyes with her own, a small frown in place between her eyebrows. Yes, there would be punishment tonight. It stifled a groan, and remained in position. "Well Miranda... I think you've brought us a ringer," said the man in the blue sweater. "What are your plans for it?" It noticed that all conversation stopped. Mistress did too, and she smiled that secret little smile she got when she was very happy. Seeing Mistress smile made it relax. "I'm hoping to convince its owners to sell it so I can get it some more training time. It's older, but still quite valuable with the right training." She snapped her fingers and pointed to the floor at her feet. It crawled to the spot and knelt at attention, with legs spread, arms behind its back. "Sounds like a good plan," said the man in the blue sweater. "What have you chosen to call it?" "I call it slut."