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Chapter 102
The Slavers’ Guild in the city of Nimrod was an imposing, three-story building built of large limestone blocks. Many said they paid for the construction by offering the workers daily dalliances with some of the commodities to be sold. Located near the slave market, it had no windows at ground level and narrow windows, almost slits, far above the height of any man. What went on inside few knew, and as long as a constant supply of new slave girls was available, no one cared.
Taylor Charles approached the front door. As a special agent in high standing, she had access to all parts of the building though she was not a slaver herself. Her role was to expose those lowlifes involved with enslaving women who were not members of the guild. The fees had to be paid. The fee for enslaving a woman was only a few pfennings. Multiply that by the many new slave girls and you have a sizeable amount of fees in the Guild’s coffers. The Guild spent these funds as quickly as they got them. Favorite politicians needed their monthly contributions. The bureaucrats needed kickbacks. Everything was needed to keep the institutions intact so there were enough, no, more than enough slave girls, to go around.
Several feet from the stairs leading to the second floor entrance, Taylor halted to dismount. She did not ride closer as there were a semicircle slave girls about the doorway blocking her passage.
The Slavers’ Guild believed that slave girls were more than just cunts and mouths. They served other servile functions.
In this case they took half a dozen new slave girls and put them to use. The one Taylor selected had been enslaved the previous day. Two days before her name had been Claudia. She now answered solely to the generic slave girl name “Missy.” They dragged her into a dressing room where they fitted her out for work.
Her basic outfit was a leather sheath that ran from her ankles to her neck. Lacings on each side insured that it fit tightly to every voluptuous curve of her body. Her entire body was not covered though. A pair of strategically placed holes in the bodice allowed her titties to poke through. Another large hole permitted anyone standing behind her to have an unobstructed view of her bottom.
The sheath lacked sleeves, but they made up for that omission with a singleglove made of the same black leather. This covered her arms from her hands to her upper arms. The tip of the glove ended in a large steel that they locked to another ring on the back of the sheath. Being at waist level, the ring kept her arms bent, her hands above her fanny. This kept her from moving her arms much. She certainly could not use them to protect any part of her body.
They fastened a leather discipline helmet over her head. This helmet covered her head so a viewer could only see her eyes and bottom of her nose. They laced the flaps together behind her head so the leather was pulled tightly across her face.
The bottom of the discipline helmet also served as a posture collar. The stiff leather kept her from moving her head to either side. All she could do was stare straight ahead.
Taylor dismounted before Claudia, keeping the reins in her right hand. From a ring on the saddle, she removed a clip. As she stepped around between the horse and leather encased slave girl, she fastened the clip to the reins. By holding the reins near the bit, she allowed the clip to slid down to the center of the reins. With a twist of her right hand, she sent the clip flying up in the air where she caught it with her left hand.
Where would she apply the clip – to what item would she tether her horse? Grabbing the right tit of the slave girl with her right hand, she pinched it so the nipple stuck through in the circle formed by her index finger and thumb. She moved the clip forward to fasten it tightly on the nipple.
The slave girl said nothing. Okay, she was gagged. She could not utter a sound, but she knew better than to try to resist. That was the reason for her bare bottom. Rising from a hole in the pavement near her left foot was a switch. If she did anything to displease her master or mistress, she could count on swift retribution. The many red marks on her fanny showed that she had been punished often before. Bound and gagged as she was, she had done nothing to deserve such punishment. She was beautiful and sexy, so what other reason did a person need to punish her?
Taylor hurried up the steps. The clerk at the desk inside waved her through, everyone in the Guild it seemed knew her. After all, she was leader of the most successful enforcement team of the Guild.
At her approach, a slave girl pulled open the large wooden door leading toward the back of the building from the lobby. This slave girl served no other function than that of opening and closing the door. She was naked (except for the high heels) with straps about her ankles and thighs. A short chain connected the ankle strap to the ring on the floor, insuring that she could not move more than a few inches from that spot. (Of, course, she knew better than to try.) Another strap encircled her body just below the rib cage. In back, there was a pair of leather cuffs fastened. They held her left forearm against the strap, then fastened a cuff over her wrist and forearm near the elbow, pinning that arm to her body. A leather cuff encircled her right wrist. A short chain connected it to the door. All she could do with that hand was grab the handle to pull the door open. When the person passed through, she then push it shut. It was a simple job, but since she was only a slave girl, she was capable of doing only the most simple of tasks.
The corridor immediately behind the lobby was known to the Guild as the “Hall of Slave Girls” because it was a hall full of slave girl.
Duh!!
On each side there were twenty stone pillars a half a meter in diameter. While the corridor extended a couple meters beyond the pillars, that area was only used in preparing the slave girls for display.
To each pillar was bound a naked slave girl. These were usually new to the collar, those who had not yet accepted their new servile position in society yet.
It was not enough to merely chain or bind a slave girl to a pillar. The slave girl had to be made to feel each rope so she could know she was helpless. They placed the slave girl with her back to the pillar. They next bound her wrists together on the other side. Another rope under her forearms, drawing her elbows as closely together as they could. Though she was helpless at this point, they were far from finished binding her.
The next step would be to put a spreader bar between her ankles to keep her feet separated. With no means of protecting her cunt, she would find herself being fondled and prodded by anyone who wanted to.
By spreading her legs apart, they forced her body downwards. They could now apply the remainder of the ropes. The first one would encircle her upper chest above her titties, passing around the pillar and her upper arms. The next would do the same thing belong her titties, passing across her lower arms at the elbow. The final would pass about her waist, crossing her arms in back at the wrist.
The final item was a simple strap used to keep the slave girl’s head erect. The slave collar had four rings evenly spaced about it. They attached one end of the strap to the ring on the left, passed it about the pillar, and attached the other end to the ring on the other side of the collar.
As they finished with each slave girl, they instructed her what she was to do in that position. She could not move. All she could do was move her eyes, and it was with them she was to try to lure any man or woman passing by to taste her charms. She had to try to catch their eye, and if they looked at her, she was to maintain constant eye contact. Each luscious captive was warned that she would be severely punished if she did not. As new slave girls, they had been spanked often. Sore buns pressed against the cold stone pillar as a constant remainder of what would happen if they did not obey.
The pillars were spaced four meters apart. Between them up to three slave girls were chained. Each had one ankle chained to a ring in the floor so she could move about. Except for the ubiquitous high heels, each was naked. At Taylor’s approach, each turned about, spreading her legs as she did. She would then bend over.
To men, she was offering her cunt for use. If she were lucky, a man would avail himself. For a woman, she was offering her bottom for a spanking.
Or perhaps it would be the other way around. The man would want to spank her bottom, and the woman would like to use the handle of her riding crop in the poor little slave girl’s pussy.
Taylor loved to torment these slave girls by passing her left hand behind their bodies to reach the cunt. Her fingers would play with the captive’s love nest, gradually arousing her. When she felt the slave girl sufficiently stimulated, she would begin spanking her, all the time playing with her cunt.
Make her feel the pain, while at the same time make her enjoy it.
The blonde mistress could not take time today. She was late for her meeting.
She mounted the stairs at the end of the hall. They waited for her in conference room D.
“There is something I want you all to see.”
The speaker was Phyllis McIntire, a senior guild steward. She was Taylor’s boss. As she said that, she started toward the door. She waved a hand to indicate that everyone should follow.
At what point does a woman become a slave girl? Legally, that moment occurs when you lock a slave collar about her neck. Her status as an instrument of pleasure for others is established. She may squawk and squeal (though not too much as no doubt she will be both bound and gagged), but any protests will fall on deaf ears. The slave collar defines her role.
Others say that point come when she not longer resists. At some point she realizes the ropes will not relinquish their grip her body. That she no long has nay control over the pain in her bottom from the constant spankings. At that point she will do what she is told. At that point she become a true slave girl when she accepts her role as one.
There are some who believe there is a point beyond that. Not only does a woman accept her role as bringer of pleasure to others, but she actively craves it. Train a woman well and she will become aroused at the thought of being ravished by an endless row of men, or she uses her tongue to bring pleasure to another woman.
At that point a slave girl becomes a slave to her own orgasms. She no longer craves freedom. All she craves is a nether orgasm. And one after that. And another after that.
One group of this last category went under the name “Universal Exports.” Nominally, they bought and sold machine parts. In reality, they were slavers, slavers though outside the guild. Not paying guild fees and town assessments allowed them to achieve much higher profits.
With the unsettled times in the west, there was a need for a great number of slave girls to keep the troops contented. While the traditional slavers handled much of the need, they worked on a smaller scale. Bulk numbers, endless coffles of bound and gagged slave girls, were their specialty. Further, they had to be trained to lust after the bodies of men.
One such slave girl was Lorraine Lawrence. Two weeks before, she had been a file clerk. Two weeks of intensive training had turned her into a sensual animal seeking nothing but sex.
She knelt this day in a storage room in the guild headquarters in town. She was unaware of that. A man had led her into town on horseback. She followed, her arms bound behind her back, a ballgag in her mouth, a leash running from her collar to a ring on his saddle. She had no idea what town she was in. She had no idea what building she was in. She was a slave girl. She had no need to know.
She wore no clothing. As a slave girl she had need for none. While she did have on high-heeled sandals, the fifteen-centimeter stiletto heel made it less an article of clothing than a bondage device, restricting the wearer to small steps.
She knelt with her hands manacled behind her back, a ballgag in her mouth, and a blindfold over her eyes.
“I’ve kept her in isolation because I want you to see how she has been trained. The agent who acquired her bought her from a group being shipped to the frontier. Her collar number has not been registered in this town or any other nearby. I want you to see how she reacts to men.”
They stood in the corridor outside the door to the room that held Lorraine. Phyllis opened the door to let the four in before her. They found the brunette kneeling in the center of any otherwise empty room. Her knees were spread as she offered her pussy to anyone entering the room.
“Stand here in front of her,” Phyllis said to the men. She pulled Lorraine’s head back before removing her blindfold.
The beautiful brunette blinked a few times. She had worn the blindfold for hours so it took a while for her eyes to adjust to the dim light in the room. She took one look at the three men standing before her. Her body reacted. The nipples became hard and pointed. She stared intently at one crotch, then another and then another as she contemplated what they could do to her. Her breath came in short gasps.
“That’s enough,” the slaver said as she slipped the blindfold over the captive’s eyes again. She gestured toward the door. She took them back to conference room D.
“You see what her training has done. One look at a man causes her to be sexually aroused. No doubt they trained her to service the army. We need to stop this or they will undercut our business.”
“What is the plan?” asked one of the men.
“We know they are somewhere along the river.”
“Do you want us…” One man began.
“No.” She smiled at Taylor.
“You’re going to start on this end. There seem to be many women missing in Carston. See if you can follow the trail from there.”
The three men were part of Taylor’s team. Nominally, she was the leader, but she had not realized her role in the team. After all, who could resist that beautiful face, those blue eyes, those large titties, beautiful blonde tresses pinned up in a bun? Taylor’s role was that of bait. When the unsanctioned slavers came after her, the men on the team would swoop in.
Of course, the beautiful blonde did not realize that. She thought she truly was the leader of the group. She failed to understand that they allowed her to make the decisions because it invariably resulted in someone trying to slip a slave collar about that lovely neck.
“As usual, we don’t want anyone to know you all are together. The five-star hotel in town in the ‘Inn of the Dancing Slave Girl.’ It’s a half-day ride from here. Each of you will leave separately the day after tomorrow and rendezvous that night there. Our agent in town is the whipmistress at another inn, the ‘Paddled Bottom.’ She will be expecting all of you to meet with her tomorrow night.
“Any questions?”
The instructions had been vague, as they always were. The men, at least, knew what to do.
“Good. Let’s put a stop to these interlopers.”
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