Date: Sun, 10 Jan 2010 12:49:25 EST
From: mikeallanb@aol.com
Subject: Slave Pair by JYM

I was twenty-two when I  graduated from college. I was dating a guy named
Dave at the time and I married  him six months later, shortly after my
twenty-third birthday. I knew it was a  mistake before the reception was over. I
heard him bragging to his best man  about what a beautiful bitch I was and
how he was going to enjoy bringing me to  heel. I confronted him, stormed out,
and have never spoken to him since that  day. My father arranged an
annulment without much trouble at all.
Dave was right. I am a  beautiful bitch. I'm tall, slim, and athletic. I
have black hair, brown eyes,  and a smooth olive complexion. I was a tomboy
growing up and I'm still a tomboy.  I keep my hair short to enhance the tomboy
look. I have a good figure and long  beautiful legs. And while I wasn't
opposed to being brought to heel, it  infuriated me to hear him tell a stranger
(to me) about his plans.
A month later I met Carolyn  Hill when I interviewed for a job with her
management company. I was very  impressed with her. She's a very successful
woman in her early thirties. She's  blonde, intelligent, and attractive. I was
surprised when she cut the interview  short. She said, "I'm sorry, Miss
Jenson, but I can't use you here. I'll call  you if something comes up." I
left, puzzled, wondering what had gone wrong. I'd  felt something while we
talked, a spark, like we were on the same wavelength or  something.
I got a call later that  evening. "Hello."
"Is this Emma Jenson?"
"Yes, who's this?"
A slight hesitation. "This is  Carolyn Hill. I'm calling because I have a
position you'd be perfect for but  it's not with my company. It's with me,
personally."
"Yes?"
"Can you meet me for a drink and  we can discuss it?"
I thought about it for a second.  "Yes, I can."
"Good. Meet me at the Darklady,  on Hudson, by  the university.
In twenty minutes." She hung up  before I could respond. I was wearing a
cropped tank top, shorts and sandals.  The Darklady was a fifteen minute
drive. I had no time to change so I didn't. I  ran a brush through my hair,
grabbed my wallet and keys, and left.
The Darklady turned out to be a  dyke bar. Carolyn was sitting on a stool
at the end of the bar, close to the  door. She nodded and smiled when she saw
me. I slid onto the stool next to her  and accepted her offer of a drink.
The bartender was a cute little redhead  wearing cutoffs and a little cropped
t-shirt that barely covered her pert  breasts. She took my order for vodka,
rocks, and brought it back very  quickly.
I glanced around, curious. It  was a nice place, not at all what I might
have envisioned. Carolyn waited until  I had sipped my drink before she spoke.
"I'm sorry I dismissed you so abruptly  today.  I suddenly realized you'd
be  perfect for the job I have in mind."
I nodded. "No need to  apologize. What's the job?"
She hesitated for a moment.  "Housegirl."
I stared at her in surprise.  "Housegirl? You mean like a housekeeper?" I
was angry and I let it show. I was  about to blast her when I felt a wave of
dizziness. Then everything went black.  I woke up in the dark, lying on a
cold cement floor. I was nude and my wrists  and ankles were cuffed together
securely. I screamed in anger but nobody heard  me.
Time passed, maybe thirty  minutes, maybe two hours. I had no way of
knowing. Then, suddenly, the lights  went on and I saw that I was in a bare cement
cell. The collar around my neck  was connecting to a ringbolt in the wall
by a thin chain. The door opened and  Carolyn walked in. She was wearing
jeans and T-shirt, carrying a riding  crop.  I screamed, demanding to be
released immediate. I made threats and cursed. After a minute or so she stepped
forward and slashed the riding crop across my face. "Shut up, slut!"
I stared at her in shock,  sobbing. "You're no long in the United States
and you're no longer  free. You're a slave. Property.  Valuable property but
still property. You have no rights. You will be  trained as a personal sex
slave. If you give us any trouble you will be killed.  Do you understand?"
I shook my head. "NO! I'm not a  slave! Not property."
She turned her head and spoke to  someone outside the door.
"Take her out and hang her."
Two young women came into the  cell. They were wearing jeans and work
shirts and boots. They unlocked my collar  and dragged me out of the cell. I
struggled until one of them rammed a fist into  my belly. They dragged me down a
short hall and out through a metal door into a  small courtyard. It was
late in the day. There was a gallows across the  courtyard. They dragged me to
the bottom of the steps.  Carolyn was right behind us. "Hang  her."
Sobbing, I begged for mercy.  "Please don't kill me! Please!
Please, let me be a slave! Oh,  God, please. You can't kill me!"
They dragged me up the steps  and put the noose around my neck. I was so
terrified I wet myself.
Carolyn smiled and said, "Do  it." The trapdoor opened and I dropped
through. And fell to the ground! The rope  hadn't been secured. Carolyn came down
the stairs and crouched beside me, rubbed  the back of my neck while I
sobbed in terror. "What are you?"
I turned and looked at her. "A  slave. I'm a slave."
She smiled and squeezed the  back of my neck. "Good. Don't forget it. The
next time you go up those stairs  you won't survive."
I went back to my cell and  waited. Training started two days later. There
were eleven other girls in the  group ranging in age from fourteen to
twenty-five. All of us were pretty, some  beautiful, and all had been kidnapped.
Six of us were Caucasian, four African  American, and two Asian American. The
training was much like I imagine boot camp  would be. A lot of physical
training, a lot of rules and regulations, lots of  repetition. A lot of the
training was about proper behavior and a lot of it was  sexual. There were no
men and all of our sexual training involved pleasing  women.
Ten of us survived the full  nine weeks. One girl, a strongly built
athlete, snapped one day and struck one  of the trainers. She was hanged a few
minutes later while we watched. Not a  quick hanging either. She was hanged in
the old Royal Navy fashion and slowly  strangled to death. The other girl was
executed for theft. She was young, only  sixteen and she dropped through
the trapdoor and died quickly.
At the end, we were bathed and  oiled and put on the block, sold at
auction. The last thing they did was affix  our permanent collars in place. These
collars, a product of technology totally  unknown to me, were made of pliable
metal that adjusted to fit snugly without  constriction. They contained a
small battery that would last for fifty years. As  long as they received a
certain signal every day we were safe. If the signal was  not sent for any
reason the collars would inject a poison after missing three  signals
successively. There was no way to remove them. Ever.
A beautiful Asian girl from  Los Angeles went  for $284,000, the most of
any of us. She went to a very famous model who bought  her for her beauty. I
rated myself as no better than fifth or sixth among the  group as far as
looks went. But there was another girl in the group, a blonde,  who was almost
the same age, height, weight, and build. Her skin was pale and  flawless, her
hair so blonde as to be almost white.  With our hair cropped short we were
two  of a kind, light and dark, a pair of beautiful tomboys. We were sold as
a pair  for $662, 000. The blonde's name was Mariel. We had gotten close
during  training, preferred each other as sex partners, and had become
friends, finally  falling in love. They had us make love on the block before the
bidding started.  That we both enjoyed it was obvious.
We leaned against each other,  holding hands while we were sold. Our buyer
was a young woman in her late  twenties, a photographer with a growing
reputation, a tall redhead with flawless  skin, jade green eyes, and a fine slim
body. She bought us to use as models,  assistants, and bed-warmers. When she
was announced as the winning bidder I  looked at Mariel She smiled happily
and squeezed my hand. I returned her smile  and kissed her, rubbing my sex
against her thigh. I was content in my slavery. I  had been brought to heel
in a way I could have never imagined.
END  OF PART I
After the sale, we were allowed  to shower and wash our hair.
Then we were give new clothes.  Hanes bras and underwear in plain gray
cotton. Socks and running shoes. Jeans  and tank tops. It felt strange to be
dressed after almost ten weeks of  constantly nudity. We were introduced to
Jane, our new owner. She kissed us both  and told us we were beautiful and
precious. Then we were given a drug that put  us to sleep. We woke up in bed in
Jane's house in upstate Connecticut. In  Litchfield, although we didn't
learn that until later.
Mariel and I were together in a  king-sized bed. We were both nude, our
clothes folded neatly and stacked on top  of a chest of drawers. Mariel was
awake, staring at me with a big smile. Her  huge blue eyes danced with
merriment. "It's about time you woke up, Emma.  You're so lazy." She leaned and
kissed  me. I wrapped my arms around her and returned her kiss with lots of
tongue.
She pushed her knee between my  legs and rubbed her thigh against my sex. I
moaned and whispered, "God, Mariel,  I love you so much! It frightens me to
think that I would have never met you if  I hadn't been kidnapped by
Carolyn."
She drew back a little. "Me,  too. I mean I feel the same way. It makes me
sick to think of never knowing you.  You're so fuckin' beautiful." Swearing
was her way of saying she wanted to stop  talking and get down to it.
I moaned and whispered, "Fuck  me. Please fuck me." She did.
We had just finished when there  was a tap on the door and then Jane opened
it and came in. She was wearing a  robe, her hair damp from the shower.
"Good morning, girls. I  trust you're okay."
We nodded and said, "Yes,  ma'am."
She grinned and sat down on the  edge of the bed. "This is your room. I won'
t invade your privacy. I know how you  feel about each other. But you have
to remember that you are slaves and your  first duty is to please me. If you
do there won't be any problems.  Understand?"
We glanced at each other. A  quick glance of understanding.
"Yes, ma'am. We understand." I  reached out and slipped my hand into her
robe, found her firm full tit. Mariel  eased her robe off and we made love to
her. We brought her to orgasm a dozen  times. She was hot and sweaty and
begging us to stop long before we did.
Finally, we stopped and let her  calm down. Mariel kissed her and said, "
You may own us but in this room you're  the slave. Outside you're the boss.
But in here you're our slut.  Understand?"
Jane nodded. "Yessss, I  understand. Remind me to whip you later. Both of
you."
Mariel glanced at me. "Look  around and see if you can find a dildo." I
hopped off the bed and began opening  drawers. I found a strap-on in the third
drawer. "Good, put it on and fuck her  in the ass while I hold her." Jane
whimpered and begged but I raped her ass  anyway. After that, she was
compliant and we were in charge in the bedroom. (mailto:jym53@hotmail.com)