Her Final Choice

I was tied down to a table, very tightly, my arms and legs spread out as wide as they would go.  The man of my dreams stood above me, looking into my eyes.  

 

"Do you want to be my slave?"

 

We had spent the weekend together and it had been bliss for my masochistic heart.  He had beaten me and fucked me with equal passion.  I was humiliated and pushed to the edge of any limit I ever thought I had.  I had cried more in that weekend than I had for years, but I'd also never been so excited.  All of my fantasies about being owned and used were coming true thanks to this man that I met on the internet and had the guts to finally go visit.

 

"Yes, Sir, of course I want to be your slave," I answered, my eyes filling with tears.  This was a beautiful moment that I wanted to remember forever.  It was just like the movies, except typically in the movies the heroine is not tied naked to a table and covered in bruises and welts.  

 

He looked at me closer.  "Before you answer, I think you need to really think about this.  You need to learn a few things about what slavery means to me."  He walked over to the door and called in another of his slaves.  I had spent little time with her over the past few days but she seemed welcoming and pleasant enough.  She crawled into the room, naked and wearing only a collar.

 

"I have very extreme views about slavery.  After this weekend, you know that.  You know that I consider you an object, not a human.  You know that if I own you, I'll control you completely.  You won't be able to go anywhere or talk to anyone without my permission.  I'll listen to every phone call you make, read every email you receive or send, and you won't eat a single ounce of food without my approval.  I'll have power of attorney over you and all of your property and money will be mine.  You truly will be an object, a possession, the legal property of me."

 

I nodded, still lost in the fantasy of being wanted.  

 

"Many women would consider this too extreme, but so far it hasn't scared you away.  You truly want to make me the center of your world.  That's very rare to find in a slave.  But there are a few things about your slavery that I've kept from you so far."  He beckoned for his slave to stand up and position herself in my line of sight.

 

"Show her, slave," he ordered.

 

She kept her eyes on the floor as she spread her legs far apart.  She reached down and pulled her labia apart.  I looked closely.  At the place where her clit should be there was only a tiny pink scar.  It had been completely cut off.  The room started spinning a little as I looked up at my potential Master with confusion.

 

"She has no clit.  She will never have an orgasm again.  I've taken that from her.  Well, actually, she gave it to me when she agreed to let me own her.  I cut it off so she could focus only on my sexual pleasure, because the thought of a slave taking pleasure from serving me makes me sick to my stomach."  He reached into a drawer and pulled out a little tiny jar, about the size of a jar of baby food.  Floating in some kind of preserving solution was a very tiny piece of flesh.  His slave's clit, removed from her and in his possession to do with as he wished.

 

"If you agree to be my slave, your clit will be removed as well.  It's a condition of my slavery and it's non-negotiable."

 

I lay on the table and thought about never having another orgasm.  I had always loved to masturbate and orgasms were a hugely important part of my life.  Some nights I had difficulty sleeping without having one.  The idea of having someone cut that ability from me as a sign of my submission was somewhat devastating.  I loved my clit and if it were removed, I'd miss it terribly.

 

At the same time, I felt myself dripping with wetness.  The idea of being just a piece of meat serving my Master without any hope of pleasure was very exciting.  I imagined what my clit would look like in a little jar.  His slave still stood with her legs spread and her cunt looked appealing without that piece of pleasurable tissue sitting above it.  It looked pretty, even.  If this was what I needed to do to be owned and to serve this powerful man, I decided right then I would do it.  I may have been thinking with my cunt instead of my brain, but it made total sense to me.

 

"I understand, Sir, and I'd give that up."

 

He smiled.  "I'm happy to hear that, pig. We will remove that disgusting piece of flesh from you in a few minutes.  First I have to tell you about another condition of being a slave to me."  He ordered his slave to kneel in front of him.  She didn't speak at all and obeyed instantly.

 

"If you agree to be my slave, it is irreversible and it is for life."  He stared at me intently and I nodded.  For life, how romantic.  "This doesn't mean that it will be a long life.  There will come a day when I will get tired of your service.  You may bore me or stop interesting me sexually or I may decide that I'm done with you for a long variety of reasons.  Whatever the reason, when the time comes that I want to get rid of you, I will take you out to the desert, you will dig your own grave, and I will kill you."

 

Again, my stomach turned.  I felt my face twist into a grimace of horror.  He smiled.  "I knew that one would affect you a little more.  But think about it.  You are my property, and it is my choice what should become of my property when I'm finished with it, isn't that true?"  I didn't answer.  He looked down at his kneeling slave girl.  "Isn't that true, cunt face?"

 

She briefly looked up and smiled at him.  "Yes, Sir, that's true."

 

"Tell this fat pig what's in store for you this afternoon, slave."  His voice had suddenly turned cold.

 

The slave's head was still bowed.  "Master is done with me and my service is ending.  He is going to snuff me today."

 

"And how do you feel about that, slave?"

 

"It's been an honor to serve him.  He's fulfilled every one of my fantasies and the last five years with him have been the best of my life.  I submit to his wishes and I accept whatever happens with gratitude."

 

He smiled down at her and ruffled her hair.  "Good slut."  Then he turned back to me.  "What do you think about this prospect for yourself now, pig cunt?"

 

My brain still whirled with horror and doubt.  I felt my eyes fill with tears.  This was all just so terrible!  How could he treat human beings like this?  As I thought of all the terrible things that he had just told me, I heard myself answer him, "I accept your conditions, Sir."  Again, my cunt was answering what my brain couldn't comprehend.

 

He smiled warmly at me.  "I'm glad.  Now I'm going to cut off your clit and then you can assist in our afternoon field trip.  Welcome to your slavery, cunt."

 

My stomach clenched with fear as I heard him moving around outside my line of sight, rifling through drawers and preparing things.  I was terrified.  His slave still knelt in front of me, her eyes on the ground.  She didn't speak to me or acknowledge me in any way, leaving me alone with my fears.

 

Sir stood over me again.  "I need to prepare some things so I am going to leave you here for an hour while I get ready."  He turned to his slave.  "You two are free to speak openly to each other until I come back.  Of course, remember, you're being recorded, as always."  He started out of the door and then turned back to me.  "One hour until your last orgasm ever and until you give your clit to me, slut pig.  One hour left until your whole life no longer belongs to you.

 

I shivered visibly on the table.  The mixture of fear, excitement, anticipation and just mind-numbing bewilderment was almost too much for my senses to take.

 

The slave looked up after her Master left the room.  "You must be very excited, pig cunt.  This is a special day that you'll never forget."

 

I didn't know what to say to this woman.  No, not a woman.  We are not women, we are not humans.  We are slaves.  Anyway, she was hours away from death and seemed completely free of panic or fear.  Her face was unlined and serene, confident in anything that might happen.  Now she was talking about my life and my future when I was about to replace her, and she seemed cheerful and resigned about the whole thing,  I prayed that one day I would be able to give up my worries, my guilt, my opinions... my life... to the service of her Master.  

 

"Yes, I'm excited.  Nervous though.  Did it, um, hurt a lot when you had yours..."

 

"When I gave up my clit?  Yes.  I won't lie to you, it hurts very much.  But you like to hurt, don't you, pig cunt?"  She gestured towards my bruised udders and the cane marks striped up and down my thighs.  "The pain isn't what you're afraid of, is it?"

 

"Well, I'm a little afraid of the pain.  But I'm more afraid of the permanence about this whole decision.  Nothing has ever been this permanent in my life."

 

She smiled.  "It's like stepping off a cliff and someone else directs you all the way to the bottom, huh?  It's very scary, but Master sees something in you and he is never wrong."

 

I seriously couldn't get over her calmness.  "Are you... are you scared?"

 

She shifted a little on her knees.  "No, I'm not scared.  I know that sounds crazy, but I've been with Master for five years and I know that his decisions are the right ones.  If he is tired of me, I would rather him dispose of me than dump me.  I couldn't live without him, and because of his decision, I won't have to.  I'd rather die than not be his slave."

 

"You're very brave."

 

"When you're a slave, you don't have to be brave.  You learn to stop listening to all the little voices in your head telling you what's right and what's wrong and you just listen to Master.  This is just a continuation of that."

 

"Oh man.  I hope one day I'll be able to be like you.  I hope I will be able to do as well as you have."

 

"That's very sweet of you to say.  In less than an hour, you'll be a lot more like me."  She smiled and looked down at the bare space between her legs.

 

"Can you tell me about how it happened for you?  A little about what to expect?"

 

"This has actually been a really sweet thing for me to watch because it reminds me so much of the day that Master enslaved me.  He brought me down here, tied me up just as you are tied now, and had his old slave show me her missing clit.  I was terrified.  I asked for time to think about it and he gave me four hours.  That's why I was so impressed when you decided right away, cunt.  Part of you knows that you're ready, even if it terrified you."

 

She continued.  "Finally, he came back.  I had spent four hours crying and trying to convince myself I could live without him.  I didn't want to lose my orgasms and I didn't want to feel responsible for someone else's death.  But I didn't want to leave here without a collar.  I didn't want to leave here ever.  So I told him that I wanted to be his slave.  It was the last choice that I ever made, and I have never regretted it."

 

"I don't know if Master would want me to tell you too many details of my clit removal.  It might actually be easier for you not to know.  The pain was terrible and psychologically accepting that it was gone was even harder.  I missed it.  I'd wake up at night and mourn for it.   But I know Master cherishes it, although he would never tell me that.  And it has helped my slavery to only focus on his pleasure and his wants and his desires.  With that thing hanging there, I'd think about my pleasure, whether I wanted to or not."

 

It felt cold in the room, but it might have been my fear.  The slave didn't seem to notice, or maybe her training had gotten her beyond feeling all the little incidental things in the world.  "So you have no regrets?  No regrets even now, knowing that you'll be..."

 

"Dead?  No, I have no regrets.  It has been kind of liberating to know that one day I will die by his hand.  It takes a lot of the fear away that I'd die in some other way, or of old age or something like that.  Every year, Master takes me out to the desert and shows me where I will be buried.  It's something that has been a fact of my life since the day I became his slave.  I don't regret that I'm going to die."

 

"What happened to his last slave?  Did you see how she ended up?"

 

She smiled.  "Yes, I did.  Now she was the real role model.  She comforted me after my clit was removed and she showed me so much kindness on our way out to her execution.  She was more concerned with my guilt than with her own death.  I helped her dig her grave.  She accepted it totally and welcomed the ability to serve him like that.  Her death helped me see how beautiful the whole arrangement is.  I know that makes no sense, but trust me, you'll see."

 

"This doesn't feel real to me.  It's crazy to think that you're talking about your own death like it's no big deal, and I'm laying here waiting to be mutilated willingly.  I can't wrap my brain around it."

"Leave your brain behind.  Bury it with me in my grave.  From now on, just do as you're told.  Focus on him.  You won't exist anymore as yourself.  Your only existence is how useful you can be to him.  And I'm pretty convinced you're going to do a wonderful job.  Many have come through here and you're the first that he's offered this to in five years.  He has faith in you, and that should mean a lot."

 

Just then, the door opened up.  He had returned.

 

"Girl talk is over.  Get over here and help me with this, slave."

 

The slave crawled over and waited until he gave her permission to stand.  All the preparations happened out of my sight.  I started concentrating hard on my breathing, trying to calm myself down.  I kept telling myself that this was the beginning of my real life, that this was for him, that my worries and my concerns and nervousness did not matter.  Over and over, I repeated this to myself like a mantra.  It wasn't my clit anymore anyway.  It belonged to him, and so did the rest of me.

 

When he was done getting ready, he came back over to me, completely naked.  He climbed up on the table and knelt above me, his knees on either side of my hips.  He sat down on my stomach and looked down at me.

 

"Here is the last choice of your life, pig.  Think it over carefully.  Do you want to be my slave, with all that the title implies?"

 

I didn't hesitate.  "Yes, please Sir.  I want to be your slave."

 

He smiled, the first time I had seen him do that.  Then he quickly slapped me as hard as he could in the face.  It wasn't a cutely little phony sex slap in the face either.  He reared back and hit me full out.  I could feel my cheek instantly swell.  Then he slapped me on the other side, this time striking closer to my eye.  He did this about ten times.  By the time he was finished, I could feel my left eye swelling shut and my nose was bleeding.'

 

Then he climbed down off of me, leaving me to catch my breath.  My legs were still spread as far as they could be stretched.  My whole body ached and whole quarters of me were starting to fall asleep and tingle.  My breathing was shallow and terrified, but I kept focusing on taking whatever he choose to gave me.

 

I felt a soft mouth kiss me near the belly button.  My eyes swiveled down and I saw the slave make her way down to my cunt.  "You have five minutes to have your last orgasm, pig cunt.  If you don't cum in five minutes, we'll proceed.  It doesn't matter to me or not if you have a last one because the very idea of you having one makes me sick.  Four minutes and forty seconds."

 

Slave had obviously done this before.  I had only been with a woman once but there was no comparing this experience to that one.  She nibbled and sucked on my clit, flicking her tongue against it and fingering my fuck hole.  I was absolutely soaking wet.  I started to moan and move around as much as I could for someone tied down so tightly.  Thinking that this was my last orgasm of my life and then remembering that the woman sucking on my cunt would be dead before the end of the day was just overwhelming.  Sir stood over me watching, a look of amusement and disgust on his face.  My senses were overwhelmed.  I started to feel the orgasm coming on.  The slave picked up the pace and I felt myself falling over the edge of the arousal cliff.  I gasped, shuddered, moaned and screamed.  My whole body shook as the orgasm cascaded over me.  I felt weak after it had passed.  My last orgasm ever was now in the past.  

 

The slave pulled her head up and smiled at me before once again kneeling at her Master's feet. I tried desperately to catch my breath.  He looked down into my eyes.  "That part of your life is over, pig.  I really hope that you understand that.  You will in a few minutes."

 

I closed my eyes and listened as he moved things around.  This is for him.  It's all about him.  Just obey.  I felt him wipe the cunt juices off of me and clean the table underneath my fuck hole.  He put some kind of liquid all over my mound, probably antiseptic.  Then, still without talking to me at all, he put clamps on my labia and opened it wide, attaching cords so it would stay open.  The air hit my poor doomed clit.  I felt myself shiver.

 

"Slave, bring me the bowl.  Then you may stand at her head and help her bear this, if she needs it."  I heard her jump up to obey him.  It was so quiet in the room.  I could feel my heart beating like a machine gun in my chest.

 

Of course, he wasn't going to let me close my eyes and go somewhere else in my mind.  "Look at me, cunt."  I peaked out.  He was holding a scalpel in front of my face.  My stomach turned.  It's for him, it's for him.

 

"Kiss the blade."

 

With no hesitation, I puckered up and kissed the sharp scalpel.  He moved it away and put it over a hot gas burner.  I could hear the flames popping in the otherwise silent room.  

 

After what seemed like hours, the scalpel must have been hot enough.  The slave stood behind my head, not touching me or speaking in any way.  Her Master picked up the scalpel.  "Lift her head up, slave.  I want her to see this."

 

For a split second I panicked.  Screaming at him to stop would feel so great right now.  Getting out of this with just a close call.  I breathed in and out but it didn't feel like oxygen was reaching my brain.  I bit my own tongue to stop myself from begging him to let me go.  The slave gently lifted up my head.  I saw him examine my clit and then reach down and pull it out as far as he could with something that looked like an ice claw that you'd see at a cocktail party.  It stretched much further than I'd have imagined it would be possible.  Every second seemed to last forever before I saw him move the scalpel in and begin to cut.

 

Pain.  White hot pain.  My body tried to shudder, to shake him away and save my sensitive little spot, but I was tied way too tightly.  I gasped at the intensity of it.  I felt pulling and tugging down between my legs as he sawed away, making sure to get every last bit down to the root.  Over and over again I told myself that I was his slave now, his property, that I had showed him my devotion and all it had cost me was a little bit of flesh.  At one point I screamed and it didn't sound like myself  It sounded like something from a horror movie, completely over the top.  I felt the slave rub my shoulder gently as her Master, my Master, continued to attend to the mutilation of my pleasure center.  I remembered her bravery and that she was facing something much worse, and I felt myself calm down a little.  

 

Finally, move away from my spread legs.  I could see blood on his hands, but he must have cauterized my wounds because I wasn't bleeding very much at all anymore.  He held a bowl in front of me and reached in and showed me his new trophy.  It was my clit and my inner labia.  Cut away from my body, it looked small and unimportant, but it was my entire old life.  Every selfish desire I had ever felt, every decision I had made, everything... it was all in that bowl.  I had been reborn as a complete slave, existing only to serve my Master.  The days of being me were over with.  Now I was his.  Just a disgusting fat pig cunt, no more, no less.

 

I watched as he carefully dropped my clit and labia into a specimin jar and filled it with some kind of preserving liquid. The slave stroked my face and smiled at me sympathetically, but she didn't speak.  He held up the jar and shook it a little in front of my face.  My clit, no, his clit, gently bumped against the side of the jar.

 

"You're mine now, pig cunt.  You have ten minutes to recover and then you and slave have to clean up this mess."  He slapped me again but this time not as hard and he smiled again, briefly.  Then he left the room carrying the clit and my old life away from me.

 

The slave comforted me for quite some time before my brain felt like it was back to normal again.  She stroked my face and told me what a wonderful job I had done and how pleased our Master was with me.  She cleaned my wound and put some sort of gauze cover over it.  Then she untied me and I carefully got off of the table.  The pain in my cunt was bad and the empty feeling of not having sexual pleasure any more was settling in, but I was happy I had pleased him and that I had gone through with it.

 

The two of us cleaned the blood from the table and put away all of the circumcision tools.  I walked gingerly, trying not to aggravate my mutilation, and she ended up doing most of the work. 

 

When we were finished, she handed me a mirror.  I looked at my bruised face and my black eye.  It didn't look like me, which was appropriate because I wasn't me anymore.  I was just his slave.  I used the mirror to look at the slightly bloody gauze between my legs.  Again, the slave told me how proud she was of me and I marveled at how calm and how brave she was during all of this.

 

The two of us knelt on the floor, still naked, our hands clasped behind our backs.  Soon, Master returned.  He barely looked at the two of us.  He walked over to a large overstuffed armchair, unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down and sat down on the chair.  "Slave, get over here and suck my cock.  I want to give you your last meal."

 

The slave moaned softly and then crawled over to the chair.  She kept her hands between her legs as she took Master's cock into her mouth.  She held it gently at first and then he started to grab her hair and force it in, further and further down her throat.

 

"Pig cunt, you should watch this.  You have to learn how to do this perfectly because it's going to become the center of your life now."

 

I crawled closer and paid attention as Master had his way with the slave's mouth.  She choked and sputtered but she never stopped trying to please him, even as he raped her mouth more and more violently.  A few times, she must have thrown up a little, but she paused for a second, swallowed her vomit and went back to work.  Her eyes were closed and she looked like she was cherishing this, the last time she would serve her Master's cock.

 

Master stood up so he could position himself to choke her even deeper with his cock.  "Pig, get behind me and lick my asshole while she sucks my cock," he ordered.  I crawled over and spread his ass cheeks wide, then started licking his ass, burying my tongue as deep as I could in his bowels.  He pulled the slave off of his cock by her hair and slapped her hard across the face, then shoved his cock in her mouth again.  Her eyes watered from choking so much.  I smelled his shit as I licked him and felt grateful for the opportunity.  

 

With a groan, he finally came in her mouth.  She held his cum, savoring it without swallowing it, for a few minutes before he ordered her to swallow.  Then she smiled up at him and said, "Thank you, Master.  Thank you very much."

 

"It's time, slave.  Bring the bags out to the van.  We're going on your last ride."

 

We loaded two heavy burlap duffell bags into the van in the garage.  Then we got in, both still naked.  There were no seats in the van, but Master got in and handcuffed the two of us to the side, our arms pulled tightly behind our backs.  He pulled out of the driveway and we were on our way.

 

I watched the slave as we drove.  Her face was still calm, radiating inner peace.  There was no fear there, only happiness.  As I winced at every bump in the road, each one making my cunt feel like it was on fire,  she smiled quietly and kept her thoughts to herself.  I didn't ask any questions or interrupt her train of thought.  Gathering her emotions and feelings like this seemed to be like a religious experience for her and I didn't want to get in the way.

 

We drove for an hour, the road getting more and more bumpy.  Finally, the van stopped and Master turned down the engine.  He opened the back of the van.  It was dusk outside.  He uncuffed us from the sides, pulling each of us out of the van by our hair and sending us sprawling on the rocky surface.  We were in the desert now.  It was the end of the road for the slave.

 

Master opened the bags and handed the slave and I one shovel each.  There were also picks and buckets.  "Go show pig cunt where your grave will be.  Then start digging.  It only needs to be about three feet deep.  I don't care if the animals dig you out."

 

I followed the slave to a little patch of desert.  It didn't look very memorable to me but she obviously had seen it many, many times.  "Here," she said softly.  "This is where I'll be buried."

 

I didn't know what to say.  I had no idea how to comfort her and she didn't appear to need any reassurance or comforting at all.  Without skipping a beat, she plunged the shovel into the ground and began digging.  I followed her lead, the two of us scraping away at the desert sand, silently digging her grave.

 

It took hours.  I began to feel more and more anxious the deeper we dug, but the slave remained calm and collected.  She had me sit down and rest several times, but she never took a break.  I could see Master in the distance, preparing things and then laying on a blanket, taking a nap.  Time was racing by and I didn't know if I could handle what was about to happen.

 

Finally, Master appeared and said, "That's deep enough."  I froze.  The slave climbed out of the grave and put down the shovel.  Then she knelt at Master's feet, her hands behind her head and her elbows spread, staring at his feet.  I did the same.  Master lifted up the slave's chin.  "Are you ready?" he asked her quietly.  She nodded.  "Bring me the knife."

 

With no hesitation, she went to one of the bags and pulled out a long filleting knife.  She crawled back over and offered it to him, holding it over his head as she bowed down to his feet.  

 

"Stand."

 

The slave stood in front of him.  I felt myself trembling, but she was not.

 

"Hands on your head."  Again, the hands went up, the elbows flayed out wide.  

 

He slowly began caressing her breasts.  "These udders have brought me much pleasure, slave.  I love looking at them and seeing the scars and burns that you endured for me over the years.  I've beat these tit bags bloody time and time again.  I've pierced your nipples, nailed you to boards and trees, shoved skewers through your tits.  Now, though, I don't have to worry about any pesky healing process."

 

With that, he pulled her right nipple out, brought the knife up to it and cut it off.  I gasped.  The slave drew her breath it but didn't scream and didn't move her hands off her head.  

 

"Pig, come over here and take this nipple and throw it into the grave.  It's garbage now."

 

I obeyed.  The slave didn't make any eye contact with me.  She stared at Sir's feet.  

 

When I returned I knelt down.  He repeated the process with the other nipple.  The slave moaned a little but didn't break down.  Once again, I threw the severed nipple into the grave.  Master removed his clothes.  His cock was as hard as a rock.

 

He grabbed at her udders, mauling them and twisting them viciously. He dug his fingers into the sides of her titmeat.  I saw a tear in her eye, but she didn't scream.  He took the knife and began slicing her right tit off of her body.  It slit open like a chicken cutlet and blood was everywhere.  The slave was crying hard now, her eyes closed tightly.  Her moans became louder and louder, but still her arms remained on her head, thrusting her tits out for him to do with as he wished.  Her udder finally came off in his hand.  He handed it to me.  "Throw it in the grave."

 

I was crying now but I obeyed. 

 

Master lead the slave over to a giant tree stump.  "Lay over this.  I'm going to whip your back."  The slave threw herself over it, wincing a little as her titless torso made contact with the tree.  She turned her head to the side and grasped the sides of the stump tightly.  He brought out a whip with many tails, all of them embedded with glass.  

 

It was hard to watch.  He hit her over and over again.  I lost count at 100.  Her back became bloody within a few strokes, and halfway through blood was splattering with every lash of the whip.  By the time he stopped, actual muscle tissue was flying around every time he hit her.  Master was dotted in blood.  The slave lay moaning and crying on the stump, but she had never once tried to get up or begged him to stop.  I realized about that time that my cunt was dripping wet.  Even without a clit, I was excited watching the slave get brutalized.  I knew he was going to kill her.  I knew he was going to kill me eventually, and yet still I was dripping like a waterfall between my legs.  Sexual desire can be a very funny thing.

 

Master pulled the slave off of the stump by her hair.  She was very weak now but she smiled at him.  "Can you crawl over and bring me the axe, cunt?"  he asked her softly.  She didn't answer but began slowly making her way over to the bags.  She used the last of her energy to pull out a heavy ax and dragged it behind her as she crawled back to him..  He picked it up.

 

"Lay down on the tree stump, face up.  I want you to see this coming, cunt."

 

Groaning, she positioned herself on the wood, face up, her arms and legs spread out.  The places where her udders had been were bleeding heavily.  I couldn't even imagine what her torn-up back felt like scraping against the wood.  Someday I wouldn't have to imagine.  Someday I would know.  

 

He pushed his face against hers, looking directly in her eyes.  "You've been a very good slave.  You've pleased me very much.  I hope that pig cunt and whoever follows her can measure up."

 

She smiled.  "Thank you, Sir.  Thank you for everything.  I love you."   He slapped her gently on the face and stood up.

 

"Pig, hand me the ax."  

 

This time I silenced my guilt and my worries completely and just obeyed.  It was really heavy in my hands.  

 

"Kiss your slave sister goodbye."

 

I bent down and kissed the slave gently on the lips.  She smiled a tiny bit and said "Good luck, pig cunt."  

 

Before he even asked, she used the last of her strength and stretched her neck out as much as she could, giving him a proper target.  She stared directly at him as he raised the ax, held it over his head and brought it down on her neck.  It sliced through and hit the wood beneath with a thud.  

 

We were both covered in her blood.  He forced me to the ground and shoved his cock into my ass with no warm up or lube at all.  The hole where my clit used to be thumped against the ground as he jackhammered into me.  I looked at the slave's dead and broken body as he fucked me.  Her death had been beautiful.  She had pleased him to the very end, just as she should have done.  I felt very proud of her.

 

After he came inside my ass, he sat while I dragged her body to the grave.  I threw it down into the earth with her severed udders and her nipples.  The last thing I brought over was her head.  I straightened her hair out a little and kissed her cheek.  Then I threw her down into her grave.

 

Master made me climb down in and lay on top of her body.  "One day this will be you, pig cunt.  That's not a maybe.  One day I am going to kill you too.  You'll die for me and you'll rot away in a grave just like this one.  This is the life you chose and there's no going back now."  He pissed on my face and body as I lay in the grave.  Then he told me I could climb out and start burying the slave.

 

Before I started, I turned to him and said, "Thank you, Sir.  Thank you for making me your slave.  Thank you for taking my clit.  I look forward to serving you with everything I have and doing whatever I can for your pleasure, and I look forward to dying for your pleasure one day when you're tired of me."

 

He slapped me on my bruised face.  "Get to work."