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Slave Girls in Bondage
Chapter 114
Cindi read through the note her sister Chase had left. She frowned as she read it. It made little sense to her. She held it up to the light to study the writing. Chase had signed it, but it looked like Janice’s handwriting.
“But why would Janice sign Chase’s name to the letter?”
The scary part is that of the two remaining sisters, Cindi and Samantha, Cindi was the smart one.
The note instructed her to go outside the city’s walls, to an inn, and…
Cindi smiled.
“This could be interesting…”
Cindi called her sister to give her the gist of the note without letting her know what Chase had (ostensibly) written. In minutes, the two youngest sisters were heading for the city’s gates.
About the same time, Myrtle attached a leash to Chase’s collar without giving her any idea what was in store for her. The beautiful slave girl followed the woman down the hall to the stairs, taking two or three short, quick steps to one of her mistress’s. Her rapid steps in those heels made a staccato sound that seemed to echo off the walls. The captive beauty knew they frequently put belled straps on the ankles of slave girls so they could go nowhere without drawing attention to themselves. She saw no need for that as the clattering of her high heels on the wood floor told anyone within twenty meters that a slave girl was on the move.
Eventually she ended up tethered to the wall outside the slave girls’ entrance. Without a word to her, Myrtle wandered off.
The beautiful slave girl no longer felt terror when she was bound and abandoned. She had grown used to it.
After half an hour, a clerk came for her, leading her around the building to the front. The beautiful slave girl walked without hesitation. There were other slave girls about. Some were tethered, waiting to please a master or mistress pleasure.
About twenty meters from the building, she saw two slave girls bound spreadeagle between poles. She was certain they were being punished for some infraction. Their legs were spread far apart to the poles so their feet were half a meter above the ground. She saw them writhing about. She concluded they must be terrified as each wore a black leather slave hood so she would have no idea what was about to happen to them.
She saw one other slave girl bound over a spanking bar. They chained her ankles and wrists to stakes in the ground so she could not change her position. Her bare ass was the highest part of her body, a beacon drawing everyone to spank those supple bottomcheeks. She wore no panties and her legs were spread far apart, so her pussy was available. The slave girl could not tell if a person behind her intended to spank her, or fuck her until that person made physical contact.
Chase knew what would happen to her if she displayed any reluctance. Being led on a leash as thought she was an animal was not that bad after all.
At the end of the building, they turned left. Up the steps they went. There, three or four meters from the front door, the blonde found herself tethered to a wall once again.
There she waited for another ten or fifteen minutes. She looked around her, but there was little to see. To her left she could see the road leading up to the town. To her right, the road led away from it. Behind her, across the road, there were several storage buildings. In front of her, well, in front of her there was the outer wall of the inn.
She kept her eyes on the road to the town. That was where help would come (if there was any). Between the gates of the town and where she stood, there were the compounds of several slavers. She knew they draft
Movement to her left caught her attention. She saw the horses first, then the slave girls leading them. The mistress with a long switch followed the horses. Chase turned her head to the left to watch, then turned back the other way to look over her right shoulder. Okay, two slave girls leading horses might not seem very interesting, but there was nothing else going on.
The slave girls tied the reins to the hitching post with a simple hitch. A mistress had used the same hitch to secure them earlier that morning. When they were done, this mistress would use that hitch to secure them again. The mistress then secured their arms behind their backs using manacles. She tethered one slave girl behind the other. She left them standing there as she turned toward the steps leading up to the front door of the inn.
Chase wondered what was going on.
Her heart beat faster as she trembled. The mistress climbed the six steps to the veranda of the inn, coming directly toward her. She looked straight ahead at the wall before her, hoping the woman would ignore her. She did not though. She unfastened the end of the leash from the wall, and used it to lead the beautiful slave girl down to one horse. On the saddle near the back there was a steel ring. To it, she tethered Chase.
The captive beauty watched the mistress lead the two slave girls away, leaving her there alone. For a moment the beautiful brunette panicked. She did not like being left alone. Already she was thinking like a slave girl. She wanted a mistress to hold her leash.
“Here I am with the rest of the animals,” she thought as she looked from one horse to another. She knew slave girls were little better than animals. Officially, slave girls were not animals, but pieces of property to be bought and sold at their master’s and mistress’s pleasure.
Again she waited. This time though, the monotony of her situation was broken by an unusual occurrence.
“Come on. Stay with me. We don’t want to get separated.”
She recognized that voice! It was Cindi! She could not see because the other horse was in the way. She tried to step back to look around it, but the tether line was too short. She moved to her right to waist. In seconds the two appeared in sight.
“Come on!”
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!!”
The two were on the other side of the hitching post.
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!!”
They turned away from her toward the steps leading up to the front door of the inn.
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!!”
The two paused at the door to whisper. This delay of half dozen seconds gave the captive brunette hope that they had heard her. They had not though. After the conversation ended, they pushed open the door to enter the inn. The rubber ball filling Chase’s mouth did too good a job. They had gagged her to insure her silence. The gag fulfilled its purpose.
Chase wondered why they were there, and how it could work to her benefit. Why had they come on their own? Why had they not sent someone to free her?
Oh, yeah. They didn’t know she was a captive. They didn’t know she had been enslaved. And they did not know she stood tethered to a horse outside the inn.
She hoped the two would come out soon. She was sure she could get their attention. (She was wrong of course. They would have paid no attention to a slave girl bound and gagged. After all, they were looking for a princess, not a slave girl.)
Once again she attacked the steel manacles holding her arms behind her back. They had been designed and manufactured to hold a slave girl captive so she could not escape. Nothing she did would gain her any freedom at all. Chase had a long way to go in her training before anyone would consider her to be a good little slave girl.
Myrtle and Gertrude emerged. Without a word, the two mounted their horses. Chase discovered she was tethered to Myrtle’s saddle.
When they started down the road away from town, the luscious brunette had no choice but to follow. The pace was slow, slower than that walker the night before. She would have no trouble keeping up.
The slow pace allowed her to look over her shoulder a couple times as long as the inn was in sight. She hoped to catch some glimpse of Cindi and Samantha, but the two did not appear at the door of the inn before she lost sight of it when they moved around a curve in the road.
A couple hundred yards beyond the curve the road started downhill. The horses picked up speed, forcing her to walk faster. Her steps were still short, only a few centimeters, so she had to move faster.
As it was, she did not hear the horses behind them.
“Company.”
She saw Myrtle twist around in the saddle to look behind them. She tried to do the same, but the Amazon increased the pace of her mount. Chase had to trot to keep up from being pulled over.
At the bottom of the hill the mistresses guided their horses to the side of the road where there was thirty yards of grass between the road and the woods. The women rode in single file at a slower pace. By then the captive brunette heard the sounds of the horses.
She looked to her left as the first passed. The bright blue uniforms and tall, bearskin hats told her they were a squadron of the Household Guards. Their main role was to enforce the city’s slavery laws.
She thought about grunting to get their attention. The sounds of their horses’ hooves clop clopping on the road would drown about any muffled sounds she might make.
Well, she could twist around and try to get their attention, but they would only see a slave girl.
She had to do something to get their attention. She was till trying to think of something to do when the last of the column rode past. She watched them disappear down the road ahead of them. In less than a minute, the girth of Myrtle’s horse obstructed her view. The sounds disappeared a minute or two later.
They moved back onto the road, but after riding only a short distance, they crossed the road, coming to a halt. The Amazons dismounted and tethered their horses. Myrtle took the end of her leash, using it to lead her toward the encampment there.
“What shall we do?” asked Samantha, the plaintive whine irritated her sister. Cindi sometimes fantasized about her beautiful sibling wearing a ballgag.
“I have a plan,” Cindi said with a smile.
They did not re-emerge from the inn because Cindi had another plan. But we are getting ahead of ourselves.
In the morning, Cindi had slipped from the palace without her friend knowing about it. She had no definite plans where to go, but it did not matter. What she wanted could be found at any store.
When the two left the palace, the blonde carried a shoulder purse instead of her usual clutch purse with the sequins.
At the door to the inn, Samantha put her hand on her sister’s arm.
“Do you really think this is a good idea?” she whispered.
“Of course it is,” the blonde replied.
The two entered the inn without noticing Chase tethered between the two horses behind them.
They asked questions, but learned nothing. No one knew anything. When the two walked away, people looked at them.
Their prescience had not gone unnoticed.
“Something must have happened to her,” Samantha whispered, putting a whine in that also. “What are we going to do?”
Cindi shivered at the thought. “She must have been captured by slavers!” That was what Chase’ note had told her to do.
“Oh, no!”
Cindi had to catch her sister who had decided at that moment to swoon. (No, she did not fainted, she swooned.)
Several clerks appeared immediately. Cindi had all the brains of the two.
“I have her, but could I get a room until she recovers?”
Cindi discovered she could not carry her friend upstairs alone. An assistant manager and another man did that for her, depositing the brunette on the bed. A slave girl followed the little party upstairs, carrying the purses of the two.
Cindi’s plan was about to begin. When developing it, she had considered it to be “Plan B.” It was not a very good plan, but it was the only one she could think of. Something had happened to Chase.
The only alternative was that someone had turned her into a slave girl.
The thought of her beautiful sister lying there helpless, bound and gagged, chained to the foot of some bed, frightened her. Okay, it excited her a little too. If she found Chase, she would have a little fun with her before she freed her. (She had not thought yet just how she was going to get the collar off.)
Once she had shooed everyone from the room, she closed and locked the door. She had planned ahead. What she needed was in her purse. She pulled the two items out before making her way to the bed.
“Let me loosen your clothing,” she said, just in case Samantha could hear her.
She did not though. She placed a ballgag on the bed where the brunette could not see it, then unbuckled a pink, leather strap. It was not a slave collar, but it looked as though it was one. It would fool anyone as long as her long hair covered the buckle.
She pulled the dress away from the brunette’s neck. Quickly she slid the strap around her sister’s neck. From the little movement beneath her, she could tell Samantha was rapidly regaining consciousness. She pushed the working end into the buckle and squeezed it. A click told her it had locked. She dropped the key on the bed as her hand continued over to grab the ballgag.
“Wha…” was all her sister could utter before she had the ballgag between her teeth. When Samantha tired to sit up, all she did was make it easier for Cindi to get the ends together. Most ballgags simply buckled behind the wearer’s head. This one had a simple lock and key. As the young brunette rolled off the bed, she pulled the key out.
Grabbing the keys, she ran to the door. Samantha had taken only a couple steps toward the door when the blonde swung it open and jumped out. The brunette did not dare step out of the room lest someone see her.
Cindi knew this. (The devious wench had this all planned.) She ran down the hall to the next doorway where she hid the keys on the doorframe before returning to their room.
She found her sister trying to remove the gag. The locked strap kept her from doing that.
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!” the brunette grunted as she gestured toward it.
“This is plan ‘B.’”
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!!”
The woman came at her, fingers extended as though she was going to scratch her.
“The keys are hidden. You need me to get them. If you go out like that, everyone will think you are a slave girl trying to escape. Take one more step and I’ll run down stairs to get help. No, I’ll scream. They will insist I punish you.”
“Mmmmmffffftfttt??”
The brunette dropped her hands to her sides in defeat.
“Because of this,” she said, touching the strap around the brunette’s neck, “We can go out among the people where we couldn’t go before.”
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!!”
Samantha had not noticed it before. She stared at Samantha again.
“Sit down and I will explain it.”
The brunette plopped down on the bed, her arms folded across her chest. She glared at her friend through half-closed eyes.
“Chase is not in the inn, that is pretty obvious. We know she came here. The only way we can search for her is to ask questions. If two pretty girls go wandering around an inn outside the gates, both with end up as slaves.
“This way I pretend I’m a mistress. Let’s admit it, Samantha. You look more like a slave girl than I do so you are the logical choice. I dress you up as a slave girl and take you around. Everyone thinks I’m a mistress so they won’t think twice about letting me go where Chase might be. See! It’s a good plan.”
The brunette responded by bouncing to her feet. Her hands were fists on her hips as she uttered the immortal words of all slave girls: “Mmmmmffffftfttt!!”
“Good. I’m glad you agree. Let me get you something to wear. In the meantime, why don’t you get undressed?”
With that she hurried to the door. Samantha started after her, but Cindi quickly closed the door behind her. The brunette reached for the doorknob, but heard the click of a key being turned in a lock.
Samantha was not going to get naked in the room of this inn. She still wore her clothes when her sister returned.
“I know pea green is you favorite outfit. The cut of this one almost matches that of the one you wore last week at the ball.”
Oh! The secret plan is revealed. Nubile, free women go around masquerading as slave girls in private! But that’s another story.
Cindi spent the next half hour convincing her sister to take off her clothes. In the end she won out, partly because the brunette realized she no longer had a choice in the matter. If she ventured outside the room with the pseudo-collar on and a ballgag filling her mouth, everyone would think she was a runaway slave girl. She had to pretend to be the blonde’s slave to get out of this.
Since Cindi’s intent was pragmatic and not evil, she handed the clothing to Samantha to put on. Slave girls were not allowed to dress themselves. Whatever was their master’s or mistress’s choice for them to wear, they had to accept. Since Samantha was not a slave girl and Cindi did not intend her to be one, she could dress herself.
The attire of a slave girl was conforming and revealing. The silk had no excess draping to conceal a luscious figure. Every piece clung snugly to the body. Though a body part might be covered, the owner still wanted to show it off.
As a result, Samantha needed help. She ended up letting her sister finish dressing her, standing there helplessly as though she was a real slave girl.
The dress Cindi picked was one-piece mini. The silk cupped each tittie so anyone could tell just how voluptuous the curves were. A string ran behind her neck to hold the bodice in place, allowing the dress to be backless. The hem was short and flared. The panties were back satin.
Once Samantha had the outfit on, she looked as adorable as any other slave girl would.
Sitting on the bed, she slipped her feet into the pea green, patent leather sandals. One strap across the top of her foot and another around the ankle secured them to her feet.
The shoes had the standard fifteen-centimeter stiletto heel. Because she had pretended to be a slave girl back in town, she could walk in them without falling on her face. After looking at herself in the full-length mirror to insure that she had used that little bit of silk to cover her body as well as she could, she walked around the room to get used to the high heels.
“We mustn’t forget this.”
The blonde held up the pair of manacles.
Samantha glared in displeasure but there was nothing else she could do.
In seconds, Samantha had her wrists locked behind her back. Once she had the leash attached to the collar, they were ready to go.
Despite what the brunette captive thought, Cindi’s intent was not to embarrass her in public. (What they did in private was a different matter. She had a few plans of things she was going to do to her sister, and what her sister was going to have to do, to get her to remove that pseudo-slave collar.) The blonde led her to the back of the inn, thinking they were less likely to run into anyone going that way.
This was a crowed in. As luck would have it, Chase had come to an inn frequented by itinerant slavers and slave traders. At all times of the day and night it was busy.
Cindi could have picked a route where they would run into more people, but there were enough men and women along this route to embarrass the brunette in her exposed and helpless condition. Her exposed flesh turned red in embarrassment every time they passed someone.
Samantha thought everyone had to be staring at her. In reality, most people did not even notice her. She was nothing more than another beautiful slave girl.
Cindi started toward the back door, but a mistress intercepted her.
“The slave girl’s exit is through that door,” she said, pointing.
Cindi muttered her thanks and hurried in that direction. She had almost committed a major social discretion. Had she take the captive brunette out the door used by free people, she could not have drawn more attention to them than if she had stood atop a table and screamed at the top of her lungs.
At this time of the day, there was an attendant who gave her a receipt for Samantha. The brunette turned toward her with terror in her eyes. She did not want to be abandoned, but they had no other choice.
Cindi hurried upstairs and out the back door. At the lower level she found another attendant. Giving him the receipt, she still had to wait for ten minutes before her sister appeared in sight.
Immediately behind the inn was the slave girl stables were Chase had spent the night. Three or four slavers had camps behind the inn. The two explored the stables before moving back to where the slavers had their compounds.
The two wandered aimlessly among the pens, cages and tents behind the inn. At least Samantha did not have to worry about anyone noticing her. There were dozens of naked slave girls about, bound in various positions either as punishment or as an inducement for someone to buy them. No one noticed her.
Or so it seemed.
“Can I help you?”
Both jumped when they heard the voice. The woman wore black leather that had a crotch strap. Neither had any doubt what she used slave girls for.
She held a switch that she rubbed on the leather at her right hip. She spoke to Cindi, but her eyes were on Samantha.
“Can I help you?” she repeated. She imaged what the beautiful brunette would look like without the skimpy little outfit on. She turned her gaze back to Cindi, giving her a too polite smile.
She knew something.
“I’m…I’m looking for a slave girl.”
“ Aren’t we all? There are hundreds around here. Can you be more specific?”
Cindi did some quick thinking.
“A blonde. One without a lot of experience. She might be with someone named ‘Margaret.’”
“Most the cattle we have around here are imported. Margaret is over there.” She gestured across the field were there were several canvas pavilions set up.
The blonde could not know that this woman worked for Margaret breaking and training slave girls. She or someone else had been watching these two since they left home.
“Thanks.”
Cindi turned to head in the direction the woman pointed.
“If you are interested in selling this one, I’ll give you a good price for her.”
Mmmmmm. Why would she be interested in buying a slave girl?
“No, uh, no. I just added her to my stable. She’s new and, uh, I’m looking for another to go with her.”
“Well, if you’re looking for new, try Margaret. If you change you mind, my name is Sylvia. I’ll give you a good price for her.”
Both were quivering with fear when they reached Margaret’s compound. Samantha had thought this was a bad idea from the beginning. Now Cindi was coming to the same conclusion.
Unfortunately, it was a little too late.
Half a dozen slave girls, naked except for the high heels, lay on the ground doing crunches. Who wanted a flabby slave girl? A man carrying a long switch slowly paced around them to insure none slacked off. Large titties wobbled as their upper bodies moved up and down effortlessly. They all were in excellent shape and their owner intended they remain that way.
“I’m…I’m looking for someone named ‘Margaret.’”
“That tent there,” he said, gesturing with the switch.
The two young women walked in the direction. The flaps of the large tent were open. Inside a pair of slave girls were bound spreadeagle between poles while a man with a massive beer belly studied them.
“I’m looking for Margaret,” Cindi said again, directly her question to the fat man. He looked over at her and then gestured toward a man with his back toward them.
“Margaret.”
“Huh?” she said as he turned.
Her eyes went from one sister to the other and back again. They narrowed into little slits. She recognized them instantly as she had made one foray into town with Janice just to see what prey was being offered her.
Cindi had a feeling that she was going to have trouble convincing him of the truth of her story.
“I’m looking for someone, for a slave girl. Sylvia suggested I talk to you.”
She stared at her and then back at Samantha. The bound and gagged sister noticed the slight trace of a smile on her lips.
“Why don’t we go back to my office where we can talk.”
She held a flap open so the two women could exit that tent through an opening in back. She now was behind them so they did not see him motion a couple men forward.
“You can leave you little princess here,” he said, motioning toward a hitching post just inside the flap. Cindi saw the plaintive look on Samantha’s face when she attached the end of the leash to a ring on the post.
“In here,” he said, holding the flap open. She followed her in, followed within seconds by the two men.
Samantha stood there alone for half an hour, staring intently at the tent as she wondered what was going on inside. One man left the tent after half an hour but two others entered a few minutes later. No one told her anything. She was just another beautiful slave girl.
She had no idea what happened after that as a hand appeared in sight from her left. Movement drew her attention to the left. The hand unlocked the end of the leash.
“Come along.”
She did not want to follow, but there was nothing she could do. Every time she tried to stop, she almost fell forward because of the forward pull on the leash.
Their destination was a different tent. As they entered, a bare-chested man stepped forward. With his left hand he grabbed the leash immediately under the brunette’s chin. He pulled down forcing the brunette to bend over. He grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of her neck with his left.
“It’s not even a real collar.”
“We can remedy that.”
By now the beautiful brunette knew the masquerade was over. She tried to resist but what could she do?
Two men dragged her forward toward a wood device about a meter high. A third man had moved around to the other side of it. This man grabbed her head with both hands to pull it forward.
The device was a block of wood with a twenty-centimeter wide slot in it. The man pulled the brunette’s head down into the slot so her chin rested on the far side of the block. The man on her left, the one who had dragged her over, kept his right hand on her upper back while his left slid a thin slab of wood into brackets about the slot. This wood pushed her head down, so her chin kept her from pulling back. The man before her fastened a leather strap across the top of her head so she could not pull her head forward.
This left her neck exposed a few centimeters from the device. The man, who decided Samantha did not have on a real collar, cut the strap with a pair of heavy shears. As soon as he put them down, he had a real collar on here.
Samantha was a real slave girl.
“Let’s see what kind of goods she has to offer.”
They released her so she could stand upright. They did that so they could inspect her body when they had ripped the clothing from her body.
“He should get a good price for her.”
With a nod of his head, he told them to take her to her first training site.
Sure the brunette tried to resist, but there were three of them, and she had her hands bound behind her back. She tried to kick them, but that only earned her some punishment. Two men held her bent over while another welded the switch.
Crack! Crack!
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!!”
She made no further efforts to resist as they forced her to walk toward her doom.
Ahead of her went eight bondage devices that looked like tables. On the right, the first three held naked slave girls. They lay strapped on the device with their legs spread.
The men lifted Samantha into the air so her knees were on small platforms at the near side of the device. One small platform stuck out on the right and another on the left so the slave girl could kneel on them.
A leather strap across the upper calf near the knee held her legs in place. They bent her forward on the flat surface. A leather strap across her lower back near the hips held her bottom in position. Another strap was passed across her upper back, pinning her body to the device.
They freed her hands, but immediately fastened them to leather cuffs on another pair of small platforms. Instead of being on the end of the device as the other two were, these were on the sides. This left her forearms under her shoulders.
While a man ran a short chain from beneath the device to her collar, another fastened a strap across each upper thigh.
This left the beautiful brunette in a position similar to being on all fours. The flat surface ran from her crotch to her head. The strap about her lower back and the two across her thighs held her pussy in position.
The man in charge of her training, lifted her head by grabbing her hair. She had to look up at him.
“We are going to teach you your real function in life. You have no other reason to exist than to be fucked.
“Do you want to be fucked?”
“Uh, uh.” She shook her head as much as she could without increased her pain too much.
“Crack!”
“Do you want to be fucked?”
Cindi did not reply this time but she did not have to.
“Crack!”
“Do you want to be fucked?”
Again there was no response.
“Crack!:
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!”
This time Cindi nodded as much as she could. Every movement of her head caused pain in the roots of her hair, but it did no compare to the welts of the switch across her fanny. She sobbed continuously through the ballgag.
He unbuckled the strap holding the ballgag in her mouth. Before pulling the rubber ball out, he twisted her head about so she had to look at him again.
“When I pull the gag out, you will beg to be fucked. If you do anything else, the gag goes back in and you get ten strips on you ass. Understand?”
She nodded. She had no other choices.
“Please fuck me.”
“Who?”
“Please, Master, please fuck me!”
The rubber ball went back into her mouth. He buckled the ends of the strap behind her head loosely.
Samantha never imagined she could come while bound naked and being used like a common slave girl. After three orgasms, the man stepped back.
The trainer removed the gag.
“We have another volunteer waiting.”
“Please fuck me, Master.”
The rubber ball went back into her mouth as the man stepped forward. This time she came when he pushed his cock in. When he was done, it was time for the third man.
“Please fuck me master!”
Samantha harbored hopes that her sister would come rescue her, but we all know Cindi was going to have her own problems.
“Why don’t you tell me the truth?” he asked as soon as they were inside.
“I am—“
One man grabbed the beautiful brunette by her upper arms. When she opened her mouth to scream the other popped the rubber ball into it. He continued to hold the strap to insure she did not push it out with her tongue while his companion pushed her face down on the floor. Quickly he threaded the working end through the buckle and pulled it tight.
Okay, no one was going to come to her aid. Those nearby were the slaver’s employees. And if some stranger heard the cries? He would have rushed to watch the entertainment. With the gag in, her plaintive screams would not grate on the ears.
Margaret then grabbed the young blonde’s right arm. As soon as he had a good grip on it, he turned her left. This allowed the man to let go. He retrieved a rope from across the room. Once he returned, he looped it about the blonde’s crossed wrists. A square knot insured she was helpless.
They pulled her to her knees.
“Tell me the truth.”
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!” She accompanied the grunt with a violent shaking of her head.
“I was kind of hoping you would say that.”
A nod told the men to proceed. They pushed her facedown on the ground. While the man who had gagged her pinned her there with a knee to her back at the waist, the second man fastened a spreader bar between her ankles.
By the time he had had her feet bound a meter apart, Margaret had lowered a chain from an apparatus overhead. (This was not his office, but rather a tent used to discipline recalcitrant slave girls.)
They pulled the blonde captive forward so the spreader bar was beneath the end of the chain. When the end was low enough, they attached the last link to a ring on the bar with a small padlock.
As they stepped back, Margaret turned a wheel that shortened the chain. Half a dozen pulleys working in tandem reduced the load to a few kilograms. He continued to turn the wheel until her bottom was at chest level.
The blonde still wore the clothing of a free woman, but not for long. Drawing his disrobing knife, the slaver made a few, strategic cuts.
“Mmmmmffffftfttt! Mmmmmffffftfttt!!”
In seconds they had her naked.
As she put the knife away, she circled her suspended captive. Since only one chain held her up, Cindi rotated slowly in the opposite direction as the chain tried to relieve the tension in it.
Margaret stopped beside her so he could see her face. Her left arm circled her body, the hand coming down between her legs. Her fingers played with her cunt.
“You should have answered by question before. Now I have no reason to believe anything you say. I have to persuade you to tell me the truth.”
Of course Cindi would have told him the truth had that ballgag now been in her mouth. What the slaver told her was a flimsy excuse to switch her bottom.
She let her captive see the willowy switch. It was a meter and a half long and drooped from its own weight. She let the end rub against Cindi’s bare titties.
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!”
Holding Cindi’s right knee with her left hand to keep the captive from rotating any more, she used the right hand to weld the switch.
Crack!
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!”
Crack!
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!”
Crack!
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!”
Crack!
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!”
Being an expert at the fine art of turning a free woman into a slave girl, Margaret knew when she had destroyed a woman’s will to resist.
Not yet.
She moved around to her prior position so the captive could see her. She rubbed the end of the switch across the nipples again.
“You know there are some women who get aroused when they get punished. Slap her on the fanny with a paddle, and the nipples become hard and pointed. I bet you could do that if you tried.”
As the switch caressed her nipples, fingers played with her pussy. Margaret continued this sensual torment until she had Cindi aroused.
She moved back to the punishment position.
Crack!
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!”
Crack!
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!”
Crack!
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!”
Crack!
“Mmmmmffffftfttt!”
The naked brunette no longer cried through the gag with every blow. Instead, she sobbed continuously.
“Are you ready now to tell me the truth?”
Of course she was. He turned the wheel, drawing her in the air until he had his captive’s head so far in the air that he did not have to bend to remove the gag. She told him everything. About the note from Chase? About the expedition she and Samantha had undertaken. About the plan she had put into operation at the brunette’s expense.
Margaret re-inserted the ballgag before she got a drink.
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