Disclaimer: All characters are older than 18 years of age. This is set in a dystopian world, not the real world, and should be only read for enjoyment. This does contain some SM and M/s themes; please move along if they offend you.

When I first saw her, hung like meat with ropes from the ceiling, those dove-gray eyes called out to me. Her lips were stretched obscenely around the red ball; her drool dripped down from her chin and yet she was beautiful. Not for the hideous state of her body, but because that delicate soul refused to dim in her gaze despite her circumstances.

“Oh pretty girl,” I crooned to her, stroking a thumb along her pale cheek. “You must have made your Master very angry to bring you here.”

She trembled under my touch, pleading silently for relief.

There were the few who preferred to whore out their slaves and “break them in” through the Free use rooms, but with this beauty? I suspected that she might fall into the second class of slaves brought here. Those who had incurred the wrath of their Master or Mistress somehow.

“How did you displease him?” I questioned, stroking my hands along her shivering skin.

She shook those bright blonde braids back and forth quickly. A muffled whimper answered my words. Her eyes widened at the shift of my hand from her cheeks. Reaching up to the leather buckle, I gave it a swift tug and let the barrier drop from her lips to the floor.

The string of saliva drizzled slowly as she panted, working her jaw slowly.

I gave her that mercy for just a moment before I used her hair to pull her gaze to mine. “Shall I repeat the question?”

“No Sir,” she answered, staring as her pale cheeks blushed deeply. “But I did not displease my Master.”

“Then why are you here?” I demanded

“Since the Mistress Raven did not approve of her husband taking a slave, she has condemned me to learn how to please and left me to be punished until she sells me.”

I stroked her hair, savoring the light sigh which left her lips parted and eyes closed for a moment. Stepping to the side of her, I continued to pet as I inspected her visually. The use she’d endured, at least that day, did not appear to have harmed her beyond a few raised welts.

A hiss answered the trail of my fingers over the raised line on her belly; a low throaty sound of pleasure followed when I dipped my fingers to those honeyed lower lips.

“Sensitive little slut?” I teased, torturing the little button nestled between the saturated petals as she danced for me.

“Yes Sir,” she moaned, head tipped back as her belly tightened.

“All the best sluts are,” I murmured, suckling at the tender junction of her neck. She bucked greedily against my strumming fingers. “I wonder if I should give you some relief… or punish you for being so wet.”

My hand came down sharply, swatting that pleasured cunt. The sound that she made in response? It had my cock throbbing. Her body rocked, begged for more stimulation, anything to ease the maddening lust that was being inflicted on her.

“Please, Sir…more,” she panted.

Wrapping her breasts in my fingers, I squeezed and tugged upward until she stood on tiptoe. Then a heavy slap to both brought her back down with a shudder as I eyed the instruments in the room.

The single tail’s long flick could brand me in her memory, but it felt too harsh for such pale skin. The long-tailed flogger would paint her pink easily; the crop’s concentrated bursts could make her explode with just the right application. No, the gleaming line of the cane caught my eye instead.

“Do you know how to please, slut?” I asked as I stepped around her to pluck the cane off the wall. “Can you endure a Master’s will and your own desire?”

Over to the table for her, legs spread wide and shackled as her chin narrowly rested against the padded flat top. I bound her arms over the edge to the floor far below, stretching her out and leaving her exposed. My cane pressed between her lips as I gave order to hold it while I found the final pieces I needed for her torment.

The first nestled between her Pussy lips, sinking deep into the resistance of her cunt. A click drew a gasp from her as it came to life, humming against the sensitized nerves to make her clench. “Don’t let it drop,” I warned softly. “You’re so slick already that if you aren’t careful it’s going to slide right out.”

The second was the glittering jeweled plug, sunk into the resistance of her Ass. It left her rocking with a whimper of discomfort, but only adding to the gathering desire of her cunt.

“Sluts don’t come without permission,” I reminded her as I claimed the cane from her lips. “And if you manage to please me, darling, you’ll have all the orgasms your body can handle. Now be a good girl and suck my cock.”

Whether she was drunk on desire, or simply wanted to, the girl sucked eagerly. Her tongue brushed up and down the throbbing shaft; her cheeks hollowed with each deep pull of her mouth. I rocked feeding her more with each stroke. No wonder the Mistress was jealous.

Forcing myself to focus on the girl beneath me, I tapped the end of the cane lightly to her rear. She jerked in her bonds, the metal chains rattling in the empty space punctuated by her startled squeal. I waited, resting that wooden tip against her hip and rolling it back and forth to soothe her to its touch as she resumed suckling quickly even as her body didn’t unclench.

“Endurance, little one,” I murmured, “is more than handling the physical. It’s staying in the present, unfrightened of what may come and unfettered by the past. You will taste my cane tonight, but not until I decide.”

I let her mind fall into her task, brushing her with my rod across her shoulders, her sides, her Ass and arms. The fear faded from her as the desire built through her; soon the tension that vibrated her chains lay only in her obedience of fighting the impending Orgasm. And there? Her lips were heaven.

She sucked with hunger, with a desire to please as I fed her all she could take. Her moans begged for more; when her nose brushed my abdomen, her throat constricted and milked me. Seconds later, I fed her every pulsing jet of cum I had before pulling Free of her mouth.

“Good girl,” I praised, stroking down her body as her tongue cleaned any lingering strings from that deflating rod.

“Please…” Her low plea sang to me as she writhed, lost to lust’s dance, knowing only what her body told her she needed.

“You want to cum, little slut?” I asked softly, laying the rod along her Ass. “Then you may… but not until you have taken the tenth one.”

Her eyes widened but I gave her no moment to doubt herself as I laid the first across her Ass, and the second. The lines came red seconds later as she sobbed, half with need and half with her punishment. The third and fourth kissed the delicate line where her Ass met her thighs; those made her shriek and sob beneath the fire of their touch. The fifth through ninth lined her thighs down to her knees.

She squirmed under their throb, panting and eyes glistening with tears as I let the tip rest against her delicate Pussy. I could read her struggle in her body; her Pussy pulsed as it tried to hold that slipping egg and the need of her Orgasm had her mouth parted and panting raggedly. But her eyes spoke of a hint of fear, a worry that she couldn’t endure.

“Do you still want the last one, little slave?” I crooned, wiping the offending droplets away from her cheeks. “It’s going to hurt.”

And through her painful pleasured haze, she whispered the words, “Yes, Sir.”

The strike to those delicate lips made her scream. Her cunt soaked the floor as her Orgasm shattered her control; the egg was pushed Free. I watched as her body spasmed, twitched in her bonds as her eyes glazed and she sank into bliss. My hands steadied her hips as she melted against the table’s support.

Beautiful… Obedient, sensitive, and desperate to please with natural beauty to her features. They are wasting her here.

Allowing the room slave to take over her care, I tucked myself away before heading down the long hallway. Stopping at the desk, I snapped my fingers to get the doll’s attention. “The slave-girl in room fourty seven. Does she have a posted buy-out?”

“In Room forty-seven, Mistress Raven has set the slave’s cost to three hundred, sixty thousand credits,” the doll recited. “Purchase requirements dictate that the slave contained must retain her classification as a Sex slave for ten years or the purchaser must pay an unbinding of five hundred thousand.”

“Contact the Mistress. I will take her for three hundred thousand and no more,” I ordered shortly. “Include the tape from my session.”

The bot obeyed. Four minutes later, it chimed with a response as I lingered in reception. “The Mistress counters your offer with the condition that the slave must be bred at least once.”

I smiled.

“Sold.”