Return to Slavery

Lord Forester irritably scanned the document in front of him. It wasn't official business yet, which is why he was reading it at home, and in-between sessions, no less. It was a proposed agenda for the next session meeting in August, two weeks from now. Jocelyn wanted to levy more taxes, which could force Forester into reducing his labor pool. He refused to sell off any of his lands, though-land was just entirely too valuable right now. The military was asking for more funds, but these taxes, they were going to sap his capability of doing business. Robert Forester had entirely too many mouths to feed to pay additional sums per head. And Jocelyn was a fool, as well. Raising the expense of having slaves was simply going to force all of the high lords and ladies to sell off the excess, driving down the prices, making it tougher to find places to house all the slaves. And if you had too many of them put out with nowhere to go, you could really start a full-scale riot. Perhaps if Forester made a few more conspicuously generous donations to the military, he could head this off....

Bah! He cursed under his breath. He rose from his desk and thumbed his music player on. Something Baroque-the counterpoint helped stimulate his brain activity in the morning. He nodded, grabbing his red velvet jacket and pulling it around his shoulders while considering himself in the mirror. He brushed a dark hair back up his forehead as he began straightening out his tie knot. A man should look his best on a day like today. He allowed himself a grin, and his distinctive green eyes narrowed at the face in the mirror. Just a bit of stubble on his cheeks, which he left for now-he felt it made him look distinctive. There was an art to looking business-like for business, but in between sessions of the West-Atlantia small council, it was fitting to appear more casual. He had his sense of style.

Forester gestured and the lights cut off as he turned and opened the door, leaving his private bedroom, not bothering to put the document away. There was nothing confidential in the agenda so it would be fine on his table. He tugged the door shut, the music cutting off with the click of it behind him, and he strode toward the elevator, his hand reaching out by reflex to ensure his office remained locked as he walked past. The elevator doors opened for him and then closed smoothly behind him as he tapped the button sending his elevator down to the garage. He opened an intercom to the kitchen. "Jeffrey, remember that today is an auction day. I'll be out early, but wanting breakfast when I return."

"Yes, my lord Forester. Your car is ready. It will be warm on your return."

"Thank you Jeffrey."

Forester resisted the urge to key the intercom to his driver just to make sure the car was ready before the doors opened for him. He stepped out into the garage, making the left turn toward the exit, seeing his car started and t he door held open for him, as he'd known he would. He gave his driver a nod, and sparing words for the shorter man as he entered the back of the sedan. The tinted windows, of course bullet-proof, remained up as the door clicked behind him.

Forester wouldn't be long this morning. He'd know very quickly if there was anything worth purchasing at auction. Jezebelle had been nice for a time, but he really hadn't had much use of her anymore. Selling her had been the right decision, and he'd turned a tidy little profit on her as well. There was a good second hand market for the well-trained ones. If Lady Jocelyn got support for that damnable tax, he'd be happy to have sold her now while prices were at a peak.

He glanced out the window, watching the landscape roll past his window. He wet his lips slightly as they left the rural hills of his estate, quickly reaching the suburbs. They rolled into the complex, gates opened for his vehicle with armed men standing outside the fence. He scrolled his eyes up the fencing to the barbed wire at the top. He could see the gray concrete structure in the distance, very spartan and dreary. It had been a prison once. Now it was being used for something much more economically viable. His car pulled to a stop and he opened the door himself, stepping out into the morning sunlight. He raised a hand to shield his eyes for a moment as his shoes met the concrete surface.

The stage was set up in the yard. The area was closed off with a ribbon, and black curtains around, but the girls were always displayed backstage before being auction. With a nod to the auctioneer-a guy, not one that Forester recognized-he slipped around behind the stage to get a preview of the wares. There were about 30 girls, as was typical. There were displayed in suspended cages, like bird cages, naked save for the collars around their necks, the shackles attaching their ankles to the floor, and the bindings behind their back of wrists to elbow, keeping arms folding up together. Some chose to sit as comfortably as possible with their feet shackled as they were, others stood, sometimes leaning against the bars. With feral grin, Forester began strolling between the two rows, looking out for a potential purchase.

Running, that is what her life seemed to be all about now. Nothing but running and hiding, her father had lost their estate, the business everything. He chose to believe another woman over her. Now, now she was the price to be paid so her father could live. She hated the man now, more than anything else on this awful planet. Sitting by the small fire she had started she shook her head. She would have to leave soon, it was better to run at night than during the day. She had been able to figure that out.

Grabbing her bag she pulled out her brush and ran it through her hair. Her curls bounced to life as she did, she had been keeping her hair either in a braid or pulled up into a tight bun, most of the girls now had straight hair for some reason. Her hair however was curly and what they all wanted oddly enough. She hated it, thankfully they weren’t spring like curls, just loose and elegant long curls. The problem was that alone could give away who she was.

Going over to the bathroom she looked in the mirror, her hair was as black as a raven and her eyes as green as emeralds. All of these things could easily give her away. The fact her skin was a shade or so lighter than most, shaking her head she whipped her hair back spinning it up into a tight bun. Once finished she pulled her water bottle from her bag and grabbed her tooth brush. Brushing her teeth she finished what had become now her nightly routine.

Packing all of her belongings up into her bag she put out her fire and hid the evidence of it. Looking out the window she smiled as she saw the moon. It was time to move again. Leaving the place behind with ease she kept to the darker sides of town, the less established areas, and the less populated. It was easy for her now to blend in to go unseen, but something felt off. She heard the yelling and saw the flashing lights and she knew she had been found.

Running as if her life depended on it she headed for the lake which would lead to the woods where she would be able to lose them. Her heart was pounding in her chest like a race horse as she ran, she could see the lake now, even could see the woods. She ran harder and faster, then her world flipped upside down. A sharp pain shot through her entire body as she hit the ground. She fought to not scream but that didn’t happen. As she seen the man in the slaver suit approach her she braced herself. Once she was close enough she swung herself up and caught his jaw with her fist. ”You thought I’d be like the rest, easy to take down and break. I got news for you; you have never met anyone like me.!” She screamed as she continued hitting him till she saw his blood. Taking a deep breath she watched his eyes close. Having to older brothers had been an advantage for her.

Little did she know the man had back up, hearing the voices she looked up seeing five more guys headed right for her. Spinning around she went to run and hit another man square in the chest. Falling back she looked at him pure hate spilling from her. As they grabbed her and attempted to chain her she fought every step of the way. Managing to bite a few, and break a few noses before they finally took her down.

Shaking awake Riley looked around, at least that was what she was calling herself now. She couldn’t afford anyone to figure out who she was. She was met to be a slave to one of the Lords she wasn’t sure which but she knew it was better to be here than with that man. Looking around her hair was down now, she had scrapes and bruises, unlike the other girls they had not attempted to clean her, she had apparently been too much of a hassle.

She had more chains than the others as well, hers were not only on her arms and ankles, but they were wrapped around her waist chaining her to the cage, and her collar had been attached to another chain, trailing up to the top of the cage keeping her in place. It wouldn’t keep her from yelling at the men or spitting on them when they attempted to touch her. Her feet were shackled together and chained to the cage since she had kicked a few of the customers as they were called.

Looking at the man beneath her now she glared at him with pure hate in her eyes. ”This one seems she shouldn’t be here.” He spoke to himself, his voice more similar to a woman’s tone. Licking her lips she spat at the man and shook her head. ”Keep walking you couldn’t handle me on your best day.” Her voice was low and deadly but she saw the fear in his eyes as he walked away. It was amazing to her being able to scare a man when she was chained up the way she was. Shaking her head, her hair was still in the bun. That thought eased her, had they pulled her hair down and washed the dirt from her skin they would have discovered who she truly was, and that would be her worse nightmare.

Forester strode between the cages, avoiding the eyes of the handlers scattered about. He felt their recognition, but he had no urge to talk to men such as these. They were too far below him. These men were brutish, and did not really train their slaves, not the way that he would. They did not truly train slaves, their role was to set up the auctions. Lord Forester would not exactly be demeaned from speaking to them-a good lord would obviously have quality slaves in his service, and his personal interest in examining his purchases was simply part of being an effect manager. That still didn't mean he cared to talk to the uneducated crowd. There were always those whose needs were to serve as physical laborers, the supply and service industry, but a proper aloofness really served the elite when dealing with the common.

Forester passed a short brunette, clearly having some Asian roots. They were actually fairly common to keep as pleasure slaves, though this one had never been trained. She sat at the floor of her cage and glanced around, appearing to be studying her environment. She did not look scared, or angry-Forester quirked his lips up. That one was a smart one, and would try escape at some point. Not a bad possibility.

He then stopped in front of the cage of a fair-skinned slave with blonde hair-very rare to find one like her. She stood in her cage and kept her eyes down, his shoulders back, relaxing with good posture. Clearly she'd been in service before. He glanced up at hr face but she would not meet his eyes, keeping them cast down at her feet. She would fetch a fine price, and was likely a good investment. Even if the slave market crashed because of Lady Jocelyn's proposed tax, she would not lose value in the long term. But Forester wasn't interested in purchasing one like her today.

He was very interested by the next girl he saw, however. He recognized that she was much more thoroughly restrained than most every other girl here. A fighter, then. His lips curled upward into a sinister grin. He boldly approached her cage, resting his hands on the bars, and stopped to appraise her. She had a nice body-lean, but clearly strong enough that they were worried about her-definitely a fighter. And a bruise on her shoulder as well, a real rarity-slaves were usually handled with care precisely to avoid having bruises showing at auction. The holding company clearly wanted to get rid of her quickly, else they'd have kept her until that had had time to heal. He looked up at her face, and caught her gaze for a second and the cold hatred she held in them. Green eyes...like his own. Another thing that was quite rare to find.

"You, slave, what is your name?" he asked her. She responded by rolling her eyes at him, looking away. Her head leaned against the cage, as if she was dismissing him. This one had a fair deal of pride, to be so dismissive of someone who was of such obviously high station, as he was. A challenge then. He barked out a short laugh and then nodded. He did truly enjoy a challenge. This would be fun.

He glanced away and his eyes found the officiator. He summoned the man with a look, who obliging strode over the dry, dead grass to stand beside him.

"My lord, you had a question?" He had a plain face, but he spoke as one who had been educated properly.

"This slave..." Forester nodded to the heavily restrained one covered with dirt. "Auction her first. I wish to be on my way."

"Sir...my Lord..." the man stammered at him, in response, glancing nervously at the girl in the cage, before looking back at Forester, "I do not think she is what you would like. If I may suggest, perhaps you would prefer the girl Alicia?" he nodded back toward the blonde.

Forester's eyes had tracked back to the girl in the cage, doing her best to appear bored at the moment, as much as possible with her posture being supported by ropes and chains...and then coolly back-handed the official. He heard the crack of flesh meeting flesh, and felt the sting of his knuckles from cracking against the man's jaw. The man stumbled backward, nearly losing his feet. Forester then turned back to him with a scowl.

"It is too much of you to presume what I would PREFER, peasant," he growled at him, his eyes narrowing. "Your life is awfully cheap," he warned, and then walked away. He strode around in front of the stage, seeking to find a seat while they prepared the girl for auction. Forester was impatient for his breakfast.

Riley sat in the cage as the men seemed to disagree over her. She grinned as she watched the obvious Lord hit the slaver. An evil grin on her lips as she chuckled before rolling her eyes. She could remember her lessons and she had held a very high station before her father through it all away. Of course there were intelligent enough men to be able to avoid a woman’s seduction sadly her father had not been one of those men. Which is why she was here now, of course none of them knew who she was, her true name being Lucrezia Adeline Fontain.

The Fontain name had been feared for years; her father trained their military and owned the military till he made a mistake of chasing after some red head. Shaking her head at the memories she sat there, she knew she could fight the man probably more than any other slave ever had before, she had trained with her brothers, before they joined the military and left. She had continued her training with a few of the most feared men in the entire continent. Of course they only agreed to work with her after taking her how they wanted her. Sex was never something she had enjoyed, she didn’t enjoy the gentleness, to her sex should have been passionate and a bit painful, of course they had been men in the military and did not wish her harm, plus with her father at that time they would have been killed had they harmed her.

Licking her lips as the men dragged her from the cage she licked her lips with an eerie and malicious smile. As they walked on the stage the older man made the mistake of standing in front of her to remove her chains. As soon as he was close enough she swung her head forward breaking his nose and watching the blood spill. She didn’t look away or look sick; instead she smiled before looking out to the crowd. His blood smeared her forehead hiding her face, which was her intent.

The auction didn’t take long, she knew who was purchasing her, and due to the fact of what they all had seen there was not a lot of competition to be had. Now her collar was in place with a chain connecting it so the men could keep their distance from her. She had to laugh as they led her to the one who had purchased her. Standing in front of him she looked at him with pursed lips and with a look of boredom in her eyes. He could be fun she thought to herself, he was in shape and obviously took care of himself, but was he a prissy man as so many now were.

"Five thousand going once...going twice...Sold."

Forester was impressed. She was, honestly, a lovely creature. He had not expected to purchase her so cheaply, not even when he recognized that there was blood on her forehead which had not been there previously. It wasn't much, but it had splattered out onto her cheeks as well, clearly from a wound she'd inflicted rather than one she'd received. It was surprising that none of the others present shared his tastes. He knew of plenty of noblemen who enjoyed the taste of breaking in a particularly feisty girl. Forester loved the intoxicating sensation of having a slave that truly despised him, the hatred evident in her eyes, and fucking her, making her cum helplessly for him despite all her protests that she never would. He hoped that his newest acquisition might be as enjoyable.

He rose from his seat as his new purchase was half-dragged off the stage. They had her on a leash, and her ankles were still chained together to keep her from kicking. They kept her from kicking out at the organizers, but they also kept her from walking quickly. She stumbled in an attempt to keep her feet, but he could tell that her pride was still very much intact. And that, he decided, was very good. If she could keep that same kind of pride even as she was taught that she was now a slave, she would be very valuable. It was good to look for long term value, just in case he was forced to sell his possessions later. Forester hadn't come to be so wealthy through frivolous purchases.

He waited a short time at the back of the pavilion for them to deliver his purchase. She surprised him. As they brought her up to him, she had that same bored look in her eyes, but she looked at him and laughed. Actually fucking laughed. Impudence. He was not going to hold back with this one, she really did need to learn a few lessons.

They had her slightly better in hand, now. Her collar was chained back behind her, to her wrists, keeping her using either her head or arms effectively. He nodded. The organizer, who now bore the beginnings of a bruise and black eye from where Forester had back-handed him, gave him the key to her collar. He looked at Forester as if he wanted to speak out of turn again, then thought better of it, simply nodding. "Thank you for your purchase, my Lord. We hope everything is to your satisfaction."

Forester didn't even bother responding to the fool's words, giving him only a curt nod to dismiss him. He pocketed the key and then turned to his purchase while summoning his driver once more. He eyed her, murmuring to himself as he looked at the blood on her face, "Where did they get you...the military?" He barked a laugh. "I do like a fighter." He didn't expect a response. This one would need to be taught how to respond to one such as him.

Forester slipped behind her and then began tightening the chain connecting her collar to her wrists, forcing her back to arch a bit more and to give her even less freedom of movement, watching mindfully for any attempts to lash out at him. For now she seemed pretty well contained. It looked uncomfortable for her, even moreso that she tried to avoid bending her head back to stare at the sky. Very, very prideful. After making eye contact with her once again, her eyes meeting his...he struck her. Open handed, palm against her cheek, as hard as he could. His palm really stung now, and he could feel that the flesh would be red. He took a big breath as she staggered, nearly tripping because she could not move her feet. He caught her.

"You have given me no name, therefore you will be called 'slave' for now. Now, slave, it's certainly not my intention to punish you for what you have done before I purchased you-that idiot surely deserved a broken nose. You will be respectful, or least learn to fake it, or you will be punished." He smiled, and nodded, "Oh, the slap isn't punishment. It's just a good reminder." With that, Forester scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She was strong, but even with the chains attached, she was fairly light. And with nothing to use for leverage, she wasn't able to fight back nearly so much. Forester's hand came up to smack against his new slave's ass, though he sighed with distaste as his hand connected with the dirt caked on her skin.

As his car pulled up, the trunk slid open for him. It was not a big trunk. In order to fit her in, he was forced to bend her legs back behind her uncomfortably, forcing her in sideways so that her knees were pressed hard against the side of the vehicle., the side of her face against the floorboard. He deposited her in there and looked down at her. "You'll have to be confined for a while to consider your impudence, slave-a length of time at my discretion. After that...we'll need to get you cleaned up." The trunk closed down on her, leaving her in the dark.

Fifteen minutes later, he was sitting down at his table, smiling as Jeffrey brought out his long-awaited breakfast.

She was furious she could handle the slap she had gotten worse from her father and her brothers. Now though being confined still she could feel the ache spreading through her body. She seethed with hate and anger, as she was trapped within the trunk she wondered just how long he would hold her here. Perhaps if she continued putting up a fight he wouldn’t figure out who she was. That if he figured that out her fate would be worse than death and she knew it. He had threaten punishments and the thought danced inside of her mind.

She wondered if he would be able to do worse then she has been through. She was petite and had a lithe body but she was far from being week. She thought idly about him asking her if they had gotten her from the military and she had to laugh now. If he only knew how much truth there was to that statement. Laying in the trunk for welt felt like hours sleep finally took her. She knew when one could one slept. Her life running taught her that much.

She was never moved from the trunk instead she was left there, waking with a start she smacked her head against the side of the trunk, her body still bound. She sighed; the pain was worse now but nothing she was unable to deal with. Her training for survival had been worse than this. Laying there she let her thoughts run rampant as she wondered what would be in store for her, she knew at some point the discovery of who she was would be made, she had to wonder what this man would do with that knowledge of course it was nothing she would ever give to him.

She had learned to mask her Italian accent which would be a clear give away it was as if it were her families trademark. Laying there she sighed as she became even more uncomfortable, a sheen of sweat covered her skin and she knew if she was in here for much longer the carpet in the trunk would be ruined with the dirt on her skin and anything else she had managed to collect on her body along the way.

She could hear footsteps near the car and waited to see what would happen. She had no hope of getting out men could be cruel as could women it was never a surprise to her to see ones dark side. Laying there she licked her lips, her mouth was dry and she knew she was dehydrated, of course either she would drink soon or she would pass out from the exhaustion either way she didn’t care.

Forester lingered for a while over his breakfast. Jeffrey was an excellent servant-it was the difference between specialized free labor and generic slave laborers. Jeffrey took pride in his traditional place. Forester check his messages on his mobile device, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. It was a shame that there was so much incompetence among his peers-it was as if they were trying to steer this country into another horrific economic collapse.

"Thank you very much Jeffrey," he said as he rose from his seat.

"I am glad you as pleased, as ever, my Lord," Jeffrey responded. He was confident enough in his position and his status that he was not afraid to meet Forester's eyes. He was older than Forester himself, certainly, but he was still not an old man. His brown hair was light, and his eyes shone smartly. "Will you be needing anything else now, My Lord?"

"No, Jeffrey. Please have some lunch sent up to my quarters later, I shall be attending to business there." He gave the man a respectful over the sound of his "Yes, My Lord," while he turned to make his way down to the slave quarters. He passed one of his house servants, wearing the colors of his household, tidying up in the lounge area after the party he'd hosted the previous night. She was aged, with white hair...Robert Forester didn't recall her name at all. He smirked to himself, fondly remembering Lord Stephens drunkenly attempting to sing along with all the music that was playing, despite a complete inability to remember the lyrics. Perhaps it had been unbecoming, but what was the point in holding power if one could not enjoy the trappings of it? Besides...he pried several secrets out of that whore he'd bedded last night.

He slid his thumb into the scanner for the door to the slave quarters, and then quickly strolled down the stairs that followed it. The hallway that hosted his pleasure slaves had six bedrooms, but only three were presently occupied. He seldom had more than four or five at a time. He passed the showers, and heard Darlene's voice within, humming to herself as she washed. His eyes automatically peeked into the showers, but she was obviously using one of the rear stalls, since he caught no sight of her. He went straight to Jezebelle's old quarters and thumbed open the lock. Girls would eventually be allowed to access the door to their own sleeping chambers, even though not the door separating this section of the manor from the rest. He pushed the door in and glanced around. The quarters had been cleaned out as promised-all of Jezebell's personal effects were gone. he had promised to send them along with her to her new Master, though obviously, he would decide if she would get to keep them all. Forester decided she probably had found ways to convince him...Jezebelle had been very well trained.

The room was decently sized. Lord Forester's slaves lived comfortably, when they chose to. They could have plenty of space. Forester made sure the basic implements were in place. The leather straps were attached to each bedpost of the queen sized bed in the back of the room. His eyes peeked up to the rack attached to the ceiling, with different methods of suspending her if necessary. He thumbed the controls on the wall by the door to make sure the winch to raise and lower the rig was in working order. Furnishings were bolted down...everything appeared to be in working order here. He waved his hand to cancel the lights and slipped out, letting the door swing closed behind him.

He moved next door, to Maria's quarters. He smiled as he entered, a simple pleasured grin reserved for his favorite servant. Her music was playing, and she was in the midst of exercising. She was dressed in her slave garments, worn tightly to secure them for working out. They were light, barely opaque, offering many hints about the delicious body beneath, but keeping her secret. They were designed to stay in place even while looking like they might fall off at any moment. Maria did not immediately notice her Master's entrance. She was doing pull-ups on a bar, her knees bent. She liked to keep in shape. Forester did not care for her music, thought. "Music, Off," he commanded, and it went silent.

Maria dropped to the floor with a surprised squeak, and then automatically dropped into her "present" position. Kneeling, sitting on her heels, back arched slightly with her hands on her thighs, legs spread, and her chin down against her chest, eyes down submissively. There was a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her stomach was tight-he told her he didn't want her to lose that supple roundness of form, but she insisted on keep her muscles strong. She purred out a slight greeting, happy to see him. "Hello, Master." He walked over to her and reached down to stroke her hair, causing her purr to deepen for him, with a hint of a wicked laugh beneath her voice. Forester then cupped her chin and lifted her face up, to look at his own his own. He met her dark, beautiful eyes and smiled back down at her. His cock shifted in his pants slightly as he looked at her, kneeling there with her head on level with his groin. And she always had a sense for it as well. Her voice was mischievous as she spoke her next question. "May I serve you, Master?" her tongue wetting her lips as she leaned closer toward his crotch. Her voice had the accents hinting at Castilian ancestry.

"Yes you may," Forester responded, cupping her and holding her face as she automatically leaned forward, holding her back, "but not like that, at the moment. I have a new cock-sucker to train, purchased this morning." Maria leaned back onto her heels, and managed to avoid pouting. She knew she'd be punished for pouting, knew that she'd enjoy the punishment, but she also understood that her Master was being serious now. "She seems to have been a fighter, like you-they didn't even bother hosing her down before bringing her to auction. She'll need a shower, to be presentable before she starts her first night ordeals." He nodded as she let her eyes widen slightly for him, remembering her own "first night." "She also refuses to speak her name, for now. I'll have to get that out of her. You'll just have to address her as slave while getting her cleaned up for me. I'll have her brought down shortly."

Maria nodded her assent. "Rise," he commanded her, and she slipped her feet. He leaned in to taste of her mouth, letting her lips submissively yield against his own, before he pulled away. He gave her an affectionate smile. "Present," he commanded, letting her slip back to her knees submissively before he slipped out.

Forester strolled back up the stairs, leaving the slave quarters, and returned to his own living quarters. He went to his office to begin working on some paperwork, checking the status of his accounts. He remained in his office, working on business through lunch. He made sure that someone was watching his garage, making sure that his new slave wouldn't be able to, somehow, escape from the trunk that she was shoved in in the mean time. Her muscles would be sore and cramped up by the time that he pulled her out. It would help make her a bit more pliable by the time he pulled her out.

Finally, as evening was approaching, he was walking back into the garage to haul out his new slave. The trunk opened, and the light shone down into her tired her eyes. He would handle her easily enough. He grabbed her, hauling her back up out of the trunk, and began dragging inside his manor. "Come, slave, it's time we get you cleaned up. I'm sure you're actually quite lovely, when not covered in mud and shit like the lowest bitch in the street. You've got quite an evening ahead of you." He did not carry her, instead making her walk most of the distance, either willingly, or half-dragged. He pulled her along forcefully, letting her feel the strength he kept in his own body.

He stopped to once again verify his thumbprint to take her down into the slave quarters. She was dragged down the stairs with him, and then directly into the slave showers. He wasn't being rough with her now. There was no purpose in it, it was simply cold efficiency. She needed to be cleaned up, so he was taking her to it. Her hands and legs were still restrained, her body was sore and tired, so Forester had little to do for now. The experiences later this evening would truly constitute the first steps of her training. Hopefully, though, her time in the trunk had given her plenty of time to consider the consequences of impudence, and the difficulties her time here might represent for her.

Once he had her in the shower, he grabbed her wrists, slipping behind her. His fingers dug into her skin as he pressed against her from behind, trying to keep her from exerting leverage against him now. He unfastened her wrists from the cuffs and chain keeping them in place. "Arms up, slave," he ordered her, his face against her neck and his mouth close to her ear, but of course she didn't comply. This one was going to fight him every step of the way. He'd have been disappointed if she didn't....

As if being dragged by this oaf of a man had not been bad enough but now he expected her to listen to him. She would have laughed if her throat didn’t feel like sand paper. She was use to torture though; she had been thoroughly trained until her brothers left. She could handle most any abuse he could throw at her. She could handle starvation, dehydration, being beat and even raped. None of that would be new to her. If only her mother had known about her brothers, she had thought them honest men, but Lucrezia knew better, she knew all too well just how they were behind closed doors. Of course they said they were preparing her, training her for the worst, but she knew better than that. It caused her to develop not only a hard exterior, but also a hard wall to penetrate to affect her emotionally.

Standing there she forced her arms straight behind her as she locked her elbows in place. Taking her foot she pulled it up as far as she could and slammed it down on to his with everything she had. She knew it would sting a bit but it wouldn’t hurt. Though it would get her point across to him, she would not submit to him and she would give him no satisfaction of breaking her either. Standing there she ran her tongue along her lips and refused to speak to him.

Tilting her head up she casted her eyes straight forward as she prepared herself for his attack, she knew it would happen and quickly. Her breathing slowed as she relaxed her body preparing for the blows she was sure would come to her. Closing her eyes briefly she prepared her mind for what was to come to her. She wasn’t stupid, she knew men well enough to know the kind and gentle ones didn’t purchase slaves, as well as she knew how to prepare herself for abuse, for the pain. She didn’t mind pain though as most did now, she found a way to revel in it. Her actions were similar to that of a soldier preparing for hand to hand combat.

Opening her eyes she looked straight forward. She could feel him behind her pressing against her, she could feel every breath he took flowing over her body and she focused on that. She would know when he moved, she would feel what he did and she knew eventually even if not now the pain and torture would come, she was no stranger to it. Standing there she ran through every technique she knew in her mind. This was all mind over matter, her body could handle more pain if she freed her mind, sure enough she had mastered that technique. She felt every hair on her body stand on edge as she waited, she could feel everything around her, she could easily fight him if she wasn’t so dehydrated and if he did not have the upper hand on her right now.

Her body was defined and toned with muscle; it would be easy to tell she was no weak girl. She had a hardened feel to her regardless of how soft her skin was. Her hair once released from her bun would fall to the bottom of her back with her curls bouncing back to life. As beautiful as she was it was hidden beneath the filth she had used to hide her appearance. She refused to speak covering her thick Italian accent would be difficult and the fact that she spoke with knowledge would easily give her away. For now she would be silent allowing anyone who came around her to believe her to be a mute.

Forester felt her as she locked her elbows behind her back. This one almost certainly had military training, or at least some kind of combat training. It was rare to encounter slaves with her kind of muscular definition. She was definitely a strong one-strong enough to keep him from forcing her arms out of place, even as tired as she was. But it was all a matter of leverage, and he knew how to exercise it. He began to bend her forward, slightly, enjoying the way her body felt against her. He'd broken some stubborn slaves before. Maria had been in the military, and a trouble-maker also.

He felt her shift tactics, bringing her leg up and then dropping her heel down on his foot as hard as she could. Forester let out a small grunt, but didn't wince or release her. With her ankles chained together, she hadn't really been able to penetrate through his shoes. His toe throbbed slightly, but that was all. "You're going to be a fun bitch to tame, I can already tell." He tilted her back so that his mouth was pressed against her ear. "But surely you know that you're my property now....so I can do anything to you that I wish. Perhaps that doesn't scare you, but it should."

He sensed her tensing up, preparing herself for the pain. He was too smart not to recognize what she was doing. Wish a slight hiss, he reached up, pressing his hand into the side of her head, and then shoved her against the side of the shower stall, cracking her head into the wall. He then reached around, forcing his hand into a sharp edge, and drove it into her stomach, making her gasp for air momentarily. Forester had not intended to get so rough with her yet, he was just trying to get her cleaned off, but she was going to fight every single step for now, it seemed. He used the reprieve force her right arm up and slap it into an overhead restraint, tightening it down on her wrist.

"You don't talk much, do you, slave?" he asked, as he managed to force her left arm up above her head as well, clapping down the restraint on it. "That's fine. I know you're not a mute, since I heard your voice as you spoke to another potential buyer back at the auction. I wonder what you said that to imbecile..." Forester chuckled and ran a finger against her face before her head jerked away. He looked at her face and then stepped back around behind her, stripping her of all her other restraints. She'd need to be able to separate her ankles if he was really going to get her body clean. The only thing she was left with was her water-proof collar, her sign of ownership. He reached up to give it a slight adjustment before he stepped away, summoning Maria.

He stepped back from her, admiring her, even covered in dirt and grime. She was lovely, clearly. But she needed to be cleaned up. He stepped out into the hallway, tapping the intercom, to summon down a couple of his employees. Bruno and Jeremy. "You've already been exposed naked to dozens of eyes, so I doubt you'll mind some men coming down to watch you shower. Unfortunately, it seems necessary, else you might really end up giving Maria a hard time." Forester sighed, glancing down at his soiled clothes, covered with dirt from having struggled with her for too long. He decided he would need to go change. "I will see you shortly in my quarters, slave." Then he walked out of his slave quarters, heading over to take the elevator up to his own chambers.

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Maria stood naked in the doorway for a moment, studying Master's new slave. She remembered her first night with Master, how she'd hated being a slave. But he wasn't a bad Master, all things told. He knew about women, at least. She tried to suppress the jealous feeling she felt toward this new slave.

Maria was taller than this girl was. And she looked tired. As Bruno and Jeremy arrived for their peepshow, standing in the doorway, she exhaled a slight sigh. She thought she'd be able to handle this slave well enough herself. She took a cloth as the water started up, spraying the girl, walking up to her. "I am here to clean you up for the Master. I mean you no harm," she said. "My name is Maria."

She stepped close, taking the cloth to the new girl's skin, warily watching to see if those legs were going to attempt to lash out at her. She had muscles in those legs, obviously. "Do you have a name," she ventured, as she stepped into the shower with her.

Lucrezia stood there the pain screaming inside of her. She wanted to scream wanted to just yell but she wasn’t going to. Looking at the woman she glared at her as her eyes roved over the woman to see if she would manage to get away. Hearing her words she sighed as she looked over her shoulder at the woman. ”You can call me……. Riley” It was what she had been going by the only name she would give. Her voice was odd at first, seeming as if she were covering up her accent covering up some secret, a secret she would never tell. Looking at Maria she sighed heavily.

She didn’t want to be cleaned, her identity would be easier to discover that way, perhaps though she could manage if she kept watch of how she spoke to people. ”I won’t fight you Maria.” She spoke softly to the woman, her voice sounding more natural yet not, still being absent of her true tone. She could hide it but she didn’t know how long she would manage not spurting out in her natural language and her own voice.

The water felt nice, she hadn’t showered in what felt like weeks now, then again it was easier to be thought an escaped slave when you were dirty than if you were clean and still held a notion of your old station. Standing there Lucrezia sighed, her life had been nothing close to easy or what life should be. She held no qualms with the woman, and wouldn’t take her hate out on someone who had been trapped into the same life as her.

Standing there she used this moment to relax her muscles in her body, she didn’t care about the men watching she didn’t pay them any attention. Licking her lips she smiled as she tasted the water on them. Yes she needed a drink and bad she could feel it with her aching body but she would never ask and she surely would never beg for it. Standing there she took a few slow steadying breaths, she pushed the pain out of her mind refusing to pay it any attention.

She would focus on survival of being true to who she was, no one truly knew her she had been taken for a beautiful Italian woman. One of the last few left, and of course all of the other things which came with it. Her brothers had raped her abused her, done anything they could to take what they wanted from her. They said to her it was simple since people already claimed they were incestuous might as well be. She shook the memory from her mind as she stood there allowing Maria to clean her body without a fight.

"Riley."

Maria repeated the name, pleased with herself. Her Master had said that she wouldn't give Him a name. Doubtless he would try to extract that from her later. Maria hoped that she managed to hold back after the night-tomorrow, she could tell her Master that she'd discovered the new slave's name. She was anticipating the look on his face.

She scrubbed Riley down, recognizing something foreign about her features. Maria couldn't help but decide that she was attractive woman. And she relaxed for her-perhaps she was simply more comfortable around women than men. Well, someone who lived the life she had, had likely had some bad experiences. This night was unlikely to be any different. Maria enjoyed the idle pleasure in scrubbing down Riley's legs.

"You're in for a rough night, Riley. I just want you to know...you don't have to fight too hard. A good pleasure slave, she's comfortable and well-fed. It's not a bad life, in these times." Clearly the girl wasn't listening, so Maria sighed. She stepped back after she'd gotten the girl cleaned up, and let the air vents open up, drying her off. Maria stood there in front of the blowers long enough to get herself dry, and then began fluffing Riley's hair. After that, she strolled out of the showers, pausing to teasingly drag her hand against Bruno's crotch. He knew that touching her would bring a severe punishment, and she enjoyed the glare he gave her. She loved being a tease.

She glanced over her shoulder as Bruno and Jeremy went to grab the girl's arms, sliding them out of her restraints and forcing them once again behind her back. Grinning to herself, she retreated to her quarters, deciding she needed to get some reading done.

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Forester dumped his soiled clothes in the laundry chute, letting them drop down to the ground floor. He had changed into a simple, loose shirt and a pair of slacks. He had the implements set up in his bedroom-the bench, the rack, the table-enough to get the job done for tonight. She was stubborn, but if she resisted too hard, he would need to shatter that armor that his new slave hid herself behind. Trying to resist everything made one brittle. And the brittle, when they started to break, shattered into many more pieces. Secretly, though, he was looking forward to the challenge, making her yield every inch of the way.

She didn’t make the travel to the man’s room easy on the two brutes that ended up carrying her. She had managed to kick them a few times. She could feel their rough hands as they dug into her and she didn’t care. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders and down her back now. Shaking her head she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from saying anything.

As the one dropped her legs her feet and shins hit the floor hard. Standing before some door now she mumbled something under her breath in Italian as she shook her head back and forth. She wanted nothing to do with this man, she had heard what Maria said but she didn’t care to much to be kind or nice or to just give up so easily. No she wanted to cause trouble for him to know she wasn’t going to bow to him or call him master or do anything to please him.

Licking her lips she closed her eyes and prepared herself for whatever was to come to her. She was nude as the two men knocked on the door. She saw their eyes but never a wandering hand. Well other than the one who had slapped her ass. Though she didn’t care or even flinch. She could feel her body prepare for the torture she was sure she would face tonight.

As the door open she didn’t even bother to look. Her eyes were set directly in front of her but she wasn’t really there. She set her mind and set her body and face how she wanted it. A look of boredom read all over her as she waited for whatever evil ideas this man had in store. The words pleasure slave rolled through her mind, to bad no man had ever been able to handle her. Having been through what she had, she wasn’t really into the light and fluffy type of sex anymore. No she was as dark as these men now, and she enjoyed the pain, which was why she knew she could and would get through this.

Lord Forester decided to pull his shoes back on. He remembered the feel of her leg coming up and then stomping down on his toe earlier. She was not going to stop fighting until he had her properly subdued, he knew, and he had taken off the ankle restraints for her shower. He stepped out of his sleeping chambers and into his sitting room, whether carpeting ended, his shoes clicking along floor as he went to sit at the long table. Hardwood floors made it so much easier to clean up the mess from training his slaves-his staff used an industrial strength cleaner on this floor every morning. They still had a bright sheen on them. Lord Forester checked the clock-it was going to be a long night.

All his usual furniture was gone from the sitting room-the small sofa by the window, the cushioned chairs, the coffee table. All of his furniture was easily moved just for this purpose-to make his room ready for slaves to train. Even this table was utilitarian-bolted to the floor to prevent struggling girls from moving it. The only other seat in the room was an imposing thing, heavy iron with restraints on the wrists and ankles, and a clamp to which he could attach his slave's collar. This chair was a true antique-it had been, in a bygone time, a place where people had been strapped down to be electrocuted to death. He suspected that symbolism was not lost on the girls who were forced to sit there-it was a very disquieting seat.

Forester rose at the knock on his door. He swung the door open and Jeremy and Bruno dumped the girl onto the floor. She stayed down on her knees just beyond the doorway, refusing to look at him. She refused to look anyway. "You're dismissed," he said to his men. As the door closed behind them, he spoke again, "Engage locks." With a quiet thump from the wall, the door-locks engaged, keeping the occupants locked in save from activation by Lord Forester's voice.

He turned to face his knew slave, studying her. A slight smile crept onto his lips-she looked so much better now that she was cleaned up. He could see a few more scrapes on her skin that he hadn't realized were there-artifacts of her capture, along with the bruise he'd noticed earlier. Well, she was going to have a few more bruises and marks on her skin before the night ended. She wasn't moving for the moment he strolled around in front her to glance down at her breasts, large but firm without support. She also had good firm nipples that would accept clamps well-Forester suspected they were sensitive. Her skin tone was a shade lighter than his, he realized, though her hair was very dark and long-he'd need to cut that hair a bit shorter, soon. He paused for a second as he looked at her face-there was something slightly familiar about her face, something distant. Forester wondered if she reminded him of a previous slave he'd had...well, no matter.

He stopped in front of her, hands at his sides, looking down. He nodded, and his voice was smug and commanding. "Good. Kneeling is good, slave. You're going to do a lot of kneeling in this household. If you're good, we can put a mat down for you." He chuckled sharply, looking down at her. "But I do not like good slaves, honestly. I think them bad, disobedient, willful like you."

He felt himself growing a bit hungry, looking at her. The odds were that he would need some relief tonight, even if she received none. He began to stroll around behind her. "You are a slut. You may not know it yet, but that's what you are. You are going to discover this over the coming days. You love sex, and you love cock. And your Master's cock above all. Your lessons start tonight."

With that, Forester slipped around behind her, where her hands were still tied behind her back. He grabbed her by her elbows and lifted her to her feet against her struggles. His mouth was against her ear. "I love to break the ones who fight it..." he whispered, huskily. His arm wrapped around her waist to maneuver her, and he couldn't help but drag his hand against her breast, finding a nipple to pinch. He dragged her bodily toward the large rectangular frame in the middle of the room, ignoring her kicking. He used his leverage from behind her to drag her right leg into one of the restraints-steel, but lined with sheepskin to avoid skin irritation-and clamped it down shut. With her right leg secured, it was easy to force her left leg into place. He then slipped around behind the frame, untying her hands, and forcing them up onto the top bar, level with the top of her head, so her arms were spread slightly elevated above her shoulders. Forester stepped away and stood back to admire his handiwork.

He stepped into her field of vision as he looked at her, then his eyes rested on her throat. "Now, it's time to find you a more suitable collar, my pet." He turned to the chest in the corner, popping open the lid and pulling out a few items, most of which were immediately set aside. The metal collar, though, lined with leather, he loosely held in one hand as he approached her, running his fingers against her neck underneath the collar she was presently wearing. "These, I make myself. They're tamper-proof locking mechanisms with-well, you'll see." He looked into her eyes as he leaned close, grinning a feral grin. Their eyes met, green irises meeting, as he unhooked her previous collar. He pressed his hand against her throat, closing it slightly as he stroked her neck.

"How does that feel? It's the last time your neck will be bare in your pitiful little life, slave." He was still grinning as he lifted the fresh collar and clamped it into place on her throat.

Lucrezia glared at the man feeling his hand on her throat she wanted to yell at him, but she knew better she knew being upset and yelling she would speak in her foreign tongue and that would be a dead giveaway as to who she was. Glaring at him she shook her head and thought about spitting at the man, oddly she chose a different approach. She took a deep calming breath closing her eyes briefly. She calmed her heart rate as one would when preparing for battle.

Opening her eyes she looked at him and smirked coyly. ”It is going to take a lot more than these petty things to break me.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she stood there bound. Her voice sounded normal like any others, though something was hidden and it would be obvious if one chose to pay attention to the way she spoke.

Standing there she forced herself to not care about what he did to her, to not care about the chains that bound her or the collar around her neck. No patience would be the key here and she knew that, it would be a force of will for her now. She knew how devious men could be, and she was well aware of how ruthless they became when enraged but also that was when they made the wrong choice or the wrong decision.

Of course that didn’t mean her hate didn’t boil up out of her. No it did, and she couldn’t stop it, her anger always bested her and it was something she would now have to work on day and night. Sure enough she spit in his face never looking away from her. She held no respect in her for this man only disdain and boredom. Tilting her head back she shook her hair back and forth as she looked up to the ceiling.

A long sigh released from her as she looked up him with a dull glance. Something that would surely give away the fact, she held no fear within her. Fear had already been beaten and stripped from her body, she was curious as to what tortures things he could think of. The worst thing of it was she enjoyed the pain, she found solace in pain. She knew how to deal with the pain. What she didn’t want was to be found out that would be her end and she knew it.

Though there was no war right now, one was coming and slaves were now at risk at a very high risk. She never would have thought she would be a slave, but here she was. She would have rather died on the battlefield, with honor. This though held no honor it, she would keep her dignity, her will and her mind. Those were things he would not be able to strip from her, things she wouldn’t allow him to strip from her. A maniacal chuckle escaped her as she shook her head and looked at him. ”Do you best… I am sure I have had worse.”

The minute she spoke she realized she should have kept quiet. She knew the S sounds gave her away. Her accent bled through as hard as she tried for it not to. Of course perhaps he wouldn’t even notice or would just blow it off as a lisp. She could only hope, she had to bide her time, she needed him to keep her long enough for him to be implicated as well. The longer he had her the guiltier he would appear to be when he discovered who she was.

”It is going to take a lot more than these petty things to break me.”

Forester laughed softly as he strolled around in front of her, nodding. He let his eyes blatantly examine her as she stood in front of her, taking full stock of his purchase from this morning. He saw no scars, no brands or tattoos either. He decided she wasn't previously owned. "So you do have a voice," he dropped casually. It seemed that she'd gotten distracted enough that whatever will had kept her from speaking to him prior to now was waning. She must be tired at this point. He sought to make sure that she would receive no sleep this night. "And you're right, of course. One like you, it takes a lot to break. Why do you think I bought a willful little bitch like yourself, slave? You should start wondering exactly I do have in store for you." He looked her in the face, reaching out to grab her chin and digging his fingers into her cheeks. "Also, for future reference, you're to address me as Sir or Master."

"Also, I suspect you're not entirely sure what you're up against. So perhaps a quick demonstration." He scooped up an object that he'd set aside onto the very small table in the corner, by the compartment he had opened. It was a small device, flat, about barely larger than his index finger. He watched her face and then thumbed on the device. Her collar activated, shocking her with near the force of an old cattle-prod, making her body twitch as 2,000 volts shot through her system. He gave her a sinister grin, letting her experience that sensation for a mere two seconds.

"These collars are actually a controlled substance, I suspect you didn't know. You need to be licensed to own them. My company is actually one of the primary producers. See, it's wired so that if a slave attempts to remove their own collar, they get that same shock." He set the device in his pocket, electing not to use it further. Too much shocking could prove to be nasty for the heart and lungs. Not that he wasn't willing to use whatever force was necessary to invoke cooperation, but for now he was just providing her with a quick trial.

She shook her head at him, giving him a quick maniacal laugh in her defiance. ”Do you best… I am sure I have had worse,” she nearly spat at him. Forester only smiled back. There was something about her voice that struck him as odd...another anomaly. He put it out of his mind for now. He had more important business to which to attend. He stepped closer to her, standing directly in front of her. He reached up with his left hand, cupping her chin, his thumb and forefinger digging roughly into her cheeks.

"You know, slave, when you were captured, the men did their best to be gentle with you. They wanted to avoid giving you bruises, since they would not hold you long enough for bruises to heal before selling you. But as for me? You will definitely be in my service long enough for bruises to heal." After that, he delivered a forehand slap across her cheek, hard enough to leave a red palmprint above her jaw. He'd held her head in place, preventing her from flinching away from his strike-he suspected she'd have a nasty black eye by the morning. "That is for failing to address me properly. I am Sir, or Master. That will be your last reminder." He loomed over her slightly, looking down at her body, and gave her an affirmative nod.

Lord Forester's hands dropped down, now, to caress her breasts. This was his first chance to really play with his new toy. His touch was soft and exploring, at first. He hefted the weight of them, finding that they were quite perky, especially for her size. And the nipples were firm. He chuckled slightly to himself, and began to tease those pinkish buds, with thumb and finger. He gave one a pinch and then tugged on it. Then he dragged fingertips around the areolas, expertly attempting to arouse that soft flesh. He couldn't help but lean in to dip his face down, dragging his lips around one of those delightful nipples. He was patient, discovering that she enjoyed rough treatment, so he tugged, twisted, and played with them until they were sufficiently hard for him. His hand rested on her chest as he spoke idly. "Your breasts are sumptuous, my dear slut. You know that we'll have to have them pierced, eventually. If you're good, we can do so painlessly..." Then he closed his grip around her breast, holding it up so he could drag the nipple clamp he'd scooped up against her skin. He teased her with it, watching her face, as the teeth of it brushed across her areola.

"For now, more temporary measures will need to suffice." The teeth of the clamp bit down into her hard nipple, keeping it pinched tightly. Forester was able to ignore her struggles as he moved to her other breast. "I mean, a pleasure slave hardly looks proper unless she is properly adorned." The teeth of another clamp sank into her right nipple, now. Forester now let her seen the chain that connected them together, very bright and silvery, flashing with the bright light in the room. "And she needs a leash which can be tugged..." he pulled on the chain slightly, making her nipples stretch out for him.

"Time to get down to business, though." Forester slipped around behind his slave, sliding a hand down between her spread thighs. He poked his finger around experimentally, testing to see if he'd gotten any moisture flowing out of her pussy yet. If not, he would simply have to work harder at that. "It is time you told me your name, slave." His voice pressed into her ear as he pushed against her from behind, his tone almost gentle as his finger stroked the outer folds of her pussy.

"For now, more temporary measures will need to suffice." The teeth of the clamp bit down into her hard nipple, keeping it pinched tightly. Forester was able to ignore her struggles as he moved to her other breast. "I mean, a pleasure slave hardly looks proper unless she is properly adorned." The teeth of another clamp sank into her right nipple, now. Forester now let her seen the chain that connected them together, very bright and silvery, flashing with the bright light in the room. "And she needs a leash which can be tugged..." he pulled on the chain slightly, making her nipples stretch out for him

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The bite of the clamp tore into her skin, a sharp breath pulled through her teeth as she smashed her lips together. The bite wasn’t enough to hurt only to illicit a bit of desire within her body. Standing there she took deep breaths controlling herself as best she could. She bit down on her bottom lip when he attached the second one. She could feel the desire brewing within her, screaming for more. She found peace in pain, solace within it. She had discovered pain was the only thing she could trust, emotions only made her weak. Anger had done her no good; joy had done nothing for her.

Standing there she maintained her face regardless of her own personal thoughts. At least he wasn’t a mind reader she told herself again and again. When the chain was pulled another sharp suck of air took place. A soft hiss released from her without her permission. Her body enjoyed this, more than she would ever admit to a single person. Closing her eyes briefly she let the wave roll off of her till it was gone. Finally feeling relaxed once more she opened her eyes to look at the man, to watch him for his next move.

"It is time you told me your name, slave." His voice pressed into her ear as he pushed against her from behind, his tone almost gentle as his finger stroked the outer folds of her pussy.

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Once behind her she could feel him before she heard him. Her heart hammered inside of her chest, something deep down within her wanted to spill her true identity to him, but she knew better. She was a simple piece he had paid for no more and no less. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing her true identitly. ”You can call me Riley.” She said lightly to him, her voice still masked. Her true nature wanting to seep out of her, wanting to blow but she couldn’t afford that right now. So she remained silent about that fact.

She felt his finger stroking her, could feel him behind her. She knew he would feel her desire and know she enjoyed his treatment. She knew that she would be punished for not bowing down to him, but she would never bow at least not willingly. Regardless of the punishment, regardless of what he did to her. She focused her thoughts of staying away from the other one who had wanted her, who had what they called rights to her. She supposed she could live through whatever he would have done to her, but she hated the man. That man was the reason she had no mother, the reason her father had become the monster he was now.

The man she had been given to was the Lord Tremarctos, she would never go to him, or give him the pleasure of winning. She watched the boys he had sent to war, watched what he had done to the slaves when he had, had enough of them. He would send them to their home to be dealt with. In light terms that translated to killing them, and disposing of the bodies so no one would ever know. People talked though and people knew. He wasn’t even a man in her eyes, if you were to sentence a life to death then you should be the one to take said life and he couldn’t even do that. It made her sick to her stomach.

As her stomach tossed it bought her back to her own reality. She wondered about this one who had bought her. Was he a man? Would he take a life if he saw fit to? The questions rolled inside of her mind. There was a sick twisted part of her that wanted to know about him but the stronger side to her forced those thoughts to leave her mind or at least to be a bit quieter. Lucrezia was willful and strong, she was the rebel of the family and the talk of the city now. Now no one even knew where she was. She wondered how this man who had her now would react when he discovered just who she was.

Forester was pressed against her back, and his hand snaked down her stomach to slide between her thighs. His fingers went directly to her slave pussy, stroking between her thighs. Interestingly, she was already moist before his fingers even touched her. This one apparently enjoyed the pain. He allowed himself to grin a bit wider. This might be easier than he'd thought. He allowed his fingers to gently, but possessively, stroking against the outer lips of her sex as he mulled things over. It would mean he'd need to come up with different ideas for punishment, since she'd enjoy being beaten, but that could be equally as fun. He laughed softly as he pulled his hand away, and then slapped her sex with his palm, before stroking it again. His fingers parted her lips and he shoved a finger inside of her, swirling it around to play with her body, driving home the point that she was a toy for him as he thought to himself idly.

"You can call me Riley," she said, her voice light. He could tell she was working hard to keep her voice light, to mask it, to hide the effect that he was having on her. But her words were altogether too casual, her voice too light-she'd clearly never learned to be properly deferential to nobles. Well, she'd learn it eventually, and in droves. He would enjoy teaching it to her...almost as much as he would enjoy making her suck his cock. His left hand slipped around in front of her to grab the chain between her nipples, tugging on it once again. Forester leaned in close to her ear, lowering his voice to whisper to her, as if to a lover, while his hand resumed petting her sex.

"No...your name is not Riley." He chuckled, hesitating a moment to let her wonder what he meant. "Your name is Slut, isn't it? A slut who's so hungry to be touched she grows wet from being tied up, electrocuted, slapped and beaten? I wonder if you have any idea what's in store." His hand released her chain and then slide up the side of her face to stroke her hair, petting her like a dog. "And you do think a lot of yourself with your tone, don't you, Slut? The slave at a second rate auction that basically nobody else wanted. You'd best start realizing that the only thing special about you is whatever I will use you for." Forester pulled away from her, sliding his hand away from her sex now, up her body and across her new collar, taking the time to drag his wet fingers against her cheek and smear her juices against her. "Now, we're going to need to punish you for failing to address me properly, again."

He walked back to his corner to pick up a few more of his toys. Training his slaves, getting them broken in properly, was something he had plenty of experience with. He was really started to develop a talent for it. But if this one was a true glutton for punishment, he would simply need to change things up a bit more. He walked back over to stand in front of his new slave. He slapped her again, hard, on the other cheek this time. It was a shame to mar her beautiful face, but she'd recover-he fed and took care of his slaves well. For the time being, she'd have to wear some bruises and a pair of black eyes. His hand reached up to cup her chin after he'd snapped her head to the side. "All right, look at me. Time to show you what's going to happen."

He held a small egg-shape. "This is a vibrator. It's meant to be inserted into your pussy to keep you aroused, but it will not provide enough stimulation to drive you to orgasm. The settings are automatic." He held up the other item, which resembled a sort of garter belt. "I typically pair it with this. This trap goes between your legs, with a little protrusion to rest right up against your clitoris, giving it something to vibrate up against. And the strap keeps the egg from dropping out of a loose slut's fuck hole, no matter how much she struggles or gets bounced around." He smiled at her as he knelt down in front of her, sighing. "Typically, it will be you that kneels in front of me, but again...we'll take our time to slowly teach you deference." He leaned in close, his face level with her sex. Lord Forester enjoyed tasting his slaves, so he couldn't help himself now but to lean in and flick his tongue against her helpless, exposed pussy. He pressed his lips against her, taking time to get a good taste, then nodded to himself thoughtfully. He'd enjoy teasing her with his tongue. He spread open her pussy and then inserted the vibrator carefully inside of her, and closed her lips around it, waiting until he heard the vibration kick in automatically. Then he placed the strap between her legs and attached it around her slender waist, making sure the soft, rubbery knob pressed right into the base of her clit.

He stepped back and looked at her as the teasing sensations began. "Now let me get you something, since you're a little tied up at the moment." He walked out of the sitting room into his bedroom with a smirk, and reached down to the refrigerator in the wall by the window. He pulled out two bottles of water, opening one to take a sip for himself. He smiled, walking back into the room, sipping on his water where she could see. "I imagine you must be quite thirsty-you've had no water all day. Once you start behaving, we can give you a drink." He placed the water bottle on the table within her field of vision, and then walked over to pick up his cane. It was three and a half feet long, thin, and flexible. He bent it between his hands experimentally, and strolled casually around behind her.

"Now, Slut, I shall beat your ass to teach you manners. You will thank me properly for doing so. This beating will continue UNTIL I have been properly thanked." Without any further ceremony, he pulled his arm back, whipped it around, and cracked his cane against her ass, letting the cracking sound of her flesh ring out into the room.

Lucrezia stood there as he begun what she imagined would be a ritual for this man. She took the slap to the face and even the teasing he administered to her body without more than a hiss of breath between her teeth. As the cane hit her ass she refused to flinch, her skin would grow pink from the hit but she held her breath waiting till it ebbed away. Licking her lips she took a breath and smirked as she stood there. Her eyes not giving away a single thought she had. ”It will take much more than these petty games of yours to break me. I can go without water, you can dehydrate me if you wish, but then it’s you losing money if I die, and your right no one else wanted me but it would seem you did, and that would make me wonder would you be able to sell me…. Also just to add on I am no slut or slave regardless of what you do to my body.”

She knew it was bold to say such things, to make such accusations but none of that mattered to her. Death didn’t scare her, very little did, but what did scare her she would hold on to and hide from everyone never relinquishing her true self to a soul. Taking another breath she waited for his next blow she knew it would come, she knew he would beat her and continue this until he had enough or until he felt he had broken her. She wouldn’t go easy though that much she would be sure of. Licking her dry lips again she closed her eyes refusing to look at the water. Desire for such things would not help her right now, she couldn’t let herself think that way now. Now she had to remember her training, to remember what torture was all about. It was a mind game, it was all a game and she was damn good at this game.


”Mm you can hit me again if you want, you can beat me till I am a breath away from my own death, but I won’t bow to you. I won’t give you what you want from me.” She hissed to him, masking her accent every time she spoke. She knew her body would only take so much, she knew she would have to give in eventually, but she would fight tooth and nail till that moment. She could feel her own lust growing within her body and she knew it would be the only way to hold the little bit of control she had. At that very though something dawned on her, clicked within her mind, opening her eyes slowly she smiled coyly as she stood there.

”Isn’t it odd, in order for you to truly be my master; I have to give you that power. So in retrospect I hold the cards right now. I have the power to let you break me, to let you own me truly as I am sure you masters wish to do.” She shook her head and laughed as she stood there bound and beaten. She could feel her heat ever growing, her body betraying her mind. She knew he would turn this on her; he would counter every single word she spoke. She would continue to speak though till she found that button, that button to push on him to make him mad, to get him upset and riled. Yes she would continue until she could find a way to claw under his skin.

Forester had to allow himself a smirk. The crash of the cane against her flesh rang out into the room with a clapping sound, and his new slave didn't even flinch. He would enjoy working for it. And from her banter, it appeared that she knew some of this game herself. She'd never been on this side of it, of course. And she had never been one of his slaves."….Also just to add on I am no slut or slave regardless of what you do to my body.” Forester had to laugh at that, shaking his head.

"Of course not, you dimwit. You're a slave because I own you. You're not a slut because of what I'm doing to your body, you're a slut because your body wants me to do it. You're soaking wet from it already, slut." He noticed that she was tensing, anticipating the next blow that she couldn't see coming, so he waited before it came. Her body would relax a bit, and it would sting more when he administered it to her flesh. He was tempted to put a gag in her mouth, but he had started this, so now he had complete her verbal submission. Besides, he rather enjoyed that she was capable of playing the verbal games along with him. He pressed the tip of the cane down against the back of her knee, and traced it teasingly up the inside of her thigh as she continued to speak, ignoring the words coming out of her mouth. He traced it up against the strap between her thighs, poking at it, and let her feel the rounded side of it moving up over her soft ass and pressing against the small of her back. She liked being hit, of course. But he suspected she didn't like being teased. She was probably used to having her body used roughly, but not denied like this.

”Isn’t it odd, in order for you to truly be my master; I have to give you that power. So in retrospect I hold the cards right now. I have the power to let you break me, to let you own me truly as I am sure you masters wish to do.” Forester let that comment hang in the air for a moment, pretending to consider it. Then he brought the cane back down on her backside, striking her ass again, making her body shake slightly in her restraints from the force of it. He smiled. "Nice try, Slut. But you're tied up, unable to leave without my assistance. You can't quench your thirst without asking, can't even control your body's reaction to what I am doing to you. You hold less power to affect me than a mosquito intruding upon my quarters."

Forester was going to get verbal submission from her, whatever it took. She could blank out the pain, it seemed, but eventually her body would be too weak. The effect of arousal rising between her thighs, the pain that her body felt even if her mind refused to acknowledge it, and the physical fatigue would wear on her. He struck her again, across her ass. Then he struck again, in silence, against her lower back. The next blow struck the back of her thigh, the next gave her a matching stripe across the other thigh. He could see the way her cheeks were flushing a bit with arousal. He gave one stroke up between her thighs, against the strap that was held across her pussy, but he left it alone. He didn't want that area to become too tender too soon-he still had much more playing to do with part of her. He then stepped around in front of her to make eye contact with her briefly before he struck out again, slapping against her breasts, making the chain rattle with a pair of stripes against her tits.

"What power do you hold, Slut? Not even the power to satiate your own body's urges. I'm sure you're used to scratching and clawing like a hellcat while being fucked. For me, you will purr like a kitten." Forester reached down to cup his hand against her sex, prodding it lightly, before he stepped back behind. "Remember that you know how to end this." He struck her again with his cane on the ass. And again. He now started focusing on striking the same spot, waiting to see how long until he broke the flesh.

Lucrezia took his administrations on her body, she would manage. She could deal with the pain she knew she could, she had no other choice but to deal with the pain. She would not give into him; she may not be able to control the physical realm of the game, but the mental game that was here she could. She could keep her composure and would keep her calm. She took a deep breath after each strike he gave to her.

She met his eyes as he stood before her. ”I won’t give you the satisfaction of breaking me down, of getting my submission. Keep beating me till I bleed fine..” She cut herself off, the pain was beginning to affect her and she couldn’t let that be known. Her voice had changed an accent shining clear on a few words before it disappeared again. She hoped he wouldn’t realize would be to focused on his own goal at the end of this.

Looking at him she held her head high as she licked her lips and blew out a slow breath. She knew how to end this he was right there, but she didn’t want to end it. She enjoyed it, enjoyed the game there was more going on here than just him beating her and she knew that. She wouldn’t let him break her mentally that would not happen. Taking in a slow and steady breath she put her mind to her task she would get through this and raise hell along her way. ”I hope you have the stamina to keep this going.. because I do.” She spoke slowly this time, her voice as cold as ice once again.

Her skin stung from his lashings on her body. She knew he made a few valid points but she also knew a lot of this would be mind over matter. She expected the torture it was no surprise, thus far everything was what she had expected it to be. Of course there were many who would not put up with her and she was a bit surprised he had thus far however how long would he last. She had to wonder, before allowing her thoughts to go any further she cleared her mind and focused on the here and now nothing else mattered at this moment.

Forrester made sure to pay close attention to his newest slave. He could take his time figuring her out, if that was what it would take to tame her to his will. The high counsel was between sessions, and he had no business to attend to. If it took a week, two weeks, three weeks, what did it matter? She was not going anywhere. She would not escape. He continued to strike her, not speaking a word now, only studying her. She gasped for breath with each blow, fighting to avoid crying out, but he knew her skin was becoming more flushed with exertion and frustration the longer this lasted. And she was enjoying the pain of being beaten, of the clamps which dug into her nipples, and the teasing vibrator in her pussy. He'd already seen those signs. He just had to push her farther-to continue ramping up the arousal while denying her satisfaction.

The red welt on her ass where he was striking her was becoming more severe. Her skin was marked. He struck her again, hard, knowing that he was very close to breaking the skin. She spoke up. ”I won’t give you the satisfaction of breaking me down, of getting my submission. Keep beating me till I bleed fine..” Forrester laughed as she looked over her shoulder at him, licking her lips. It was apparently an unconscious reaction, but she couldn't help herself. She tried to stay cold, but he could hear her voice breaking...interesting. He quirked his mouth up into a grin as he brought the cane down against her ass once again-what had once been smooth and nearly perfect skin was becoming very stretched.

"Oh, perhaps you can keep your mind from giving in, but your body is another matter. There are simply limits to what it can take, to how much it can endure. And I'm sure you are being pressed hard by your lack of hydration, Slut."

Once again she was struck, and her saw the skin break this time. A very small trickle of blood leaked out, and he beat her ass once again, getting some of it on his cane. The bleeding clotted almost instantly, but she would have scabs there for days. She took a deep breath, trying to maintain control, before speaking. ”I hope you have the stamina to keep this going.. because I do.” Forrester could only smile. He nodded in response. "My dear Slut, it seems you're very ignorant of my reputation. But you will learn."

Having achieved his goal of making her bleed, Forrester stepped closer to her, setting the cane aside, but within reach. His body pressed against hers from behind, and he reached down, dragging his hand possessively up her thigh, enjoying that she was helpless to pull away from his almost tender touch. His groin pressed up against her very sore ass, but also let her feel the beginnings of the erection in his crotch. His hand gradually traced its way up her thigh. He then lightly kissed at her neck, just above the collar, as his other hand wrapped around her to grab the chain between her breasts, pulling it, making the clamps tug hard on her tender nipples once again. Then his hand cupped up against the strap between her legs, feeling how wet she was underneath. He laughed, cruelly. "You're so very wet, my poor Slut. It must be so difficult on you."

Then he slapped his hand roughly down against her sex. His lips were near her ear, even as he roughly grabbed at her breast.

"That's a lovely accent you're trying to hide, Slut. Vaguely Italian, is it?"

Lucrezia could handle the beatings mentally; physically she knew he was right. She hated that he was, hated that he paid attention to her reactions; most men were not smart enough to do so she knew that, this man however seemed different. "Oh, perhaps you can keep your mind from giving in, but your body is another matter. There are simply limits to what it can take, to how much it can endure. And I'm sure you are being pressed hard by your lack of hydration, Slut." His words trailed along her skin like a snake, wrapping and coiling around her, sending shivers to course through her spine. She hated being called a slut and if anything would help her to get through this it would be her hate for being deemed as such a thing. ”There may be limits, but I will hold true. No matter how much pain you inflict upon me.”

She was smart enough to know her body would react to him, a sick and twisted part of her enjoyed this but she would never admit that to him, would never say the words. No she would hold true, he could break her body that would be the easy part to do. She could feel him, the cane coming down on her tearing her skin. Her teeth bit into her lips as she sucked a sharp breath in. She closed her eyes and breathed her breaths deep and controlled as she forced herself to once again relax to put her mind somewhere else, somewhere where the pain was pleasure. It was the only way she would hang on, the only way she would be able to survive this and she knew that.

"My dear Slut, it seems you're very ignorant of my reputation. But you will learn." Again with that damned word. Her eyes opened as she screwed her face leaving it blank of any emotion besides anger. Yes he was able to elicit anger from her but that would be all. She didn’t speak this time, instead she looked straight forward, focusing on her determination on her anger, her anger that was beginning to turn into a hate. She hated degrading people, she hated the rich and powerful thinking because of their bank account they can do what they wish. She hated politics. Regardless of how much she knew about it her hate for it only grew.

She could hear him talking but she paid him no mind. She ignored him now harder than she had tried previously. She could feel the pain slipping into her conscious she knew she was aroused a great deal. She hated having no control over that, but she would control her reaction to him, and to his touch. It was a contradiction the gentle way he spoke to what his hands did to her. She had to focus hard to keep her cool. He could break her if anyone was capable of doing it she knew he was. The thing was she wasn’t about to let him. Then she heard him once again. "That's a lovely accent you're trying to hide, Slut. Vaguely Italian, is it?" Her mind froze; she controlled her face and her physical reaction. She couldn’t get mad if she did he would push her. Running her tongue over her dry lips before she spoke she took another exasperated breath. ”What if it is, doesn’t change a thing.” She was nonchalant without a care in the world about it. She knew she had to be, accents were easy to pick up on and hers was hard to mask. As long as she didn’t make it a big deal she would be ok.

Forrester was growing more eager. He could almost hear the battle raging within her mind. Her body was tired, very tired, but he could also see the slight tremor of her hips. His insidious device would already have her near the brink, that point where her body would spill over into orgasm. But she was climbing whose peak she could not reach. She was in the same predicament as Tantalus. She would not orgasm until she said the words, until she rightly addressed him as Master. He'd seen this internal struggle before, with many women who were proud and did not want to realize that they were now slaves, that they were losing control of destinies and were to submitted to greater and greater indignities.

But this...Riley, she had said her name was, she was tough. She must have been one badass soldier. She was willing to endure this torture and hold out hope that death would be a release. Well, she wasn't going to get away that way. Even if she refused to eat or drink, she would be strapped down so an IV could administered. This would only resume once more. She was fool, he suspected-she was brittle, refusing to bend even slightly. When she did start to break, she would crumble quickly. The ones who bent in small ways, compromising with themselves...they were the ones who took months to break, constantly pushing their limits until they found another line they were forced to cross, and another, until there were simply no more lines. The brittle ones put everything into the first line of defense, and when they were broken, they had a difficult time resisting ever again.

He recognized her tensing to his words as he'd deduced her accent. She tried to hide it, and she did a great job, refusing to jerk suddenly. But it was the tensing of her posture, the fact that she utterly froze in her movements, that told him he had penetrated her defenses. He thought he detected a moment of panic in her voice. Gotcha... he thought. She had to lick her lips, her tongue nearly as parched as they were, attempting to compose herself.

”What if it is, doesn’t change a thing.” She tried to play it off non-chalantly. That got his mind cranking a little bit, but it was a knot he'd untie later. He stored it in the back of his brain, something he would chew on later. The solution didn't matter, but what did matter was rattling her cage.

"It matters because you cared to hide it. Why hide something if you think it's insignificant? And you did well to hide it from me until now, but for now, it's just the first of many secrets you'll bare for me, Slut." He could recognize her reaction to hearing that word again, and it made him laugh heartily. "You hate that term, don't you? You hate being called a Slut. But it's exactly what you are now, Slut." He stepped around in front of him, licking his lips as he studied his handiwork. He lightly trailed a finger up her stomach. Hate was fine with him. It was visceral feeling, emotional rather than rational. Some base instinct from the amygdala more than the thinking mind. The less she was thinking and the more she was feeling, the closer she would come to snapping. He grabbed the chain between her breasts and gave it a tug, the clamps stretching the flesh of her breasts as her nipples were tugged forward.

"The brain is a chemical thing, you know. Right now you're getting a delightful mix of endorphins from the pain sensations, which make you feel good in their own way. Plus the chemical cocktail being exerted by your body's arousal, that primal instinct to mate, to fuck. And the adrenaline from all that hate, slut. You know, those chemicals make changes. Your receptors get dulled until you feel a near chemical addiction. Surely you've known people who have become addicted to some drug or another, based on receptors that stop firing." Forrester gave an evil grin. "And this is only a few hours. Imagine weeks of this. You'll be changed whether you want to or not."

He stepped away, swiveling open another wall panel with one very special piece of equipment. It swung back closed for him after he removed it. It was apparently a long rod of iron, with a shape on the end of it. He showed it to his new slave until she recognized it for a brand, with the shape of an "F". He thumbed the control switch on the end with a smile, and the "F" shape on the end gradually began to heat up. "And this is just to prove it. I leave a permanent mark on your skin, and you will never get away from the remnant of my touch."