Abigail was eighteen, blonde haired, blue eyed and very pretty. She was popular with women and pursued by men. When she had finished her A levels she went with a group of girlfriends inter-railing around Europe before going to Art school. She hoped her results were good enough but her favourite teacher John Dickenson had left the year before. She had quite liked him although he was rather old. She remembered when she had tried to flirt with him. He had smiled and patted her bum. When she thought about it she realised she could have got him into trouble but she had rather enjoyed it. He was much nicer than some of the dirty old men and equally dirty old women that had taught her. Some had stripped her naked with their eyes since she was twelve. Perhaps she would look Mr Dickenson up.

For now school was out and life was fun. Clubbing and drinking and occasional fucking. She didn’t particularly enjoy screwing and had rarely had an orgasm but was sure there was something there. The sweaty short fumblings she had experienced so far must, she thought, get better. She knew from masturbation what was possible. Sometimes she wondered if it was her. Her mother had told her sex was unpleasant and Abigail wondered if she was right. But mummy had been a man hater ever since the divorce some five years before. Daddy had been denied access rights and Abigail had not seen him since. Had mummy’s admonitions made her frigid? Did she intimidate her partners? But these worries were transient and soon forgotten in the pleasures of the Aegean. Swimming, sunbathing and then, one glorious evening making love on the beach. Hans was the best yet she mused as she drifted exhausted into sleep.

Her slumbers were filled with troubled dreams and half heard noises. Slowly she awoke. She went to turn towards Hans and; what was it? She couldn’t. She panicked and opened her eyes. Nothing. It was blacker than the deep of the night. And there was no sound of the sea. She moved her arm. Nothing. She lay still feeling her restraints. Her wrists were fixed by the side of her head but perhaps a foot on either side. She went to raise her head and felt the restraining collar. She could feel the air on her naked thighs and then the metal bands around her ankles. She was firmly fixed unable to more than flex her muscles against her restraints. Blind and deaf she lay scared. She was, she realised, in the ideal position to be raped. Terrified she ran her tongue over her parched lips and moaned.

Then she screamed. A hand had brushed against her thigh. “Who are you. What do you want?” she moaned” Silence was the answer. “Please” she whimpered. “What do you want with me. I haven’t any money.” A hand stroked her thigh down the inside getting perilously close to her cunt and then played with a breast, gently twisting and pulling at her nipple. “Please” she moaned. “Please don’t.” It stopped. “Thank you” she whispered. “Thank you.” Her relief was short-lived. The hand was on her thigh again. Insistently, slowly a finger traced a line to the very edge of her labia. “Please” she sobbed “please” Then a finger ran along the slit. Back and forth it rocked. “Please. Please” she whimpered like a whipped puppy. She was terrified, she knew her body was responding. She hated it, but the erotic finger gently stimulating her aroused her. She could feel she was becoming moist and, Oh No, she was opening to that finger. It slid without resistance into her. A shock went through her body as it touched her clit. She tensed her body and realised in despair she had thrust her hips up. The finger was deep into her. She pulled back but the finger followed. “Please don’t” she begged as another joined it. They squeezed that most sensitive spot. Then slowly oh so slowly she could not help responding. Her hips were beyond her conscious control as they ground against the fingers. She pushed towards them, all the while begging for it to stop. But she wondered whether her body or her mind was right. She could feel the heat rising. She knew she was about to explode, to melt. Her nipples were painful her tummy on fire and then without warning the fingers were gone. She sighed in relief and disappointment. And then a thrill caused her to strain up. A tongue was on her clit. She could feel unshaven cheeks rasping against the sensitive skin at the top of her thighs. He was sucking her swollen bursting clit between his lips, the tip of his tongue gently flicking against it. She felt his teeth, nipping gently. And then, in despair, she had the best orgasm of her short life.

An eternity later exhausted and satiated she lay still smelling the scent of her arousal. She was horrified and deeply ashamed. Her body had been played like a musical instrument. His tongue the bow across her clit shaped violin. She remembered with warmth the wracking passion that had destroyed an intelligent modern woman and made her a writhing moaning animal. Whoever he was he had used her just as he wanted and she had hated it. She had loved it. Confused and frightened she lay pinned and splayed worrying what was to happen to her.

She drifted in and out of shallow sleeps, each awakening a reminder of her shame and her pleasure. Then there were hands at her groin again. Were they the same. To her horror she knew she would never know. There could be hundreds of men watching her. Watching her writhe in ecstasy. Watching her beg in shame. Watching her tight sharp nipples and her heaving breasts. Seeing her raise her hips to those hateful exciting fingers. What was happening. She could feel something but what was it. Then she felt something cold and hard. What were they doing to her. She moved her hips and felt something gritty beneath them. Then she felt something warm brushing her groin. It was gentle and soothing and rather pleasant. And then there was a scraping. With a scream she understood. She was being shaved. She begged; she promised, she threatened, but the razor continued its work. She felt it sliding across her mons, across the junction between her stomach and her thighs and then between her labia and her anus. Fingers ran over her. She could feel how smooth she was. Then, could it be true, she was licked. All of her private parts felt the sliding tongue. The razor returned and then the tongue. Eventually it appeared he was done. But was it a he she wondered. The cheeks had been smooth.

The bands holding her ankles were moving. She could do nothing as they were brought up and back so her thighs, splayed wide were pressing against her nipples. Her hard nipples she realised. Then something was clipped to her labia. They pressed insistently on either side. Not painful but causing her to feel the blood coursing through her body. She felt them being pulled wide. . Abigail lay exposed pulled wide like a laboratory animal awaiting the vivisectionist. There was nothing she could do. The realisation of her complete vulnerability sent her into floods of tears. She was beyond begging, beyond intelligent thought. She moaned and whimpered. Then something painful was pushing into her there. She tried to move away from it but was held rigid. Suddenly without warning her bladder relaxed and she felt the relief as it emptied. But she could not feel wetness on her thighs. Desperately trying to think rationally she realised that a catheter had been inserted. Then despite her moans something was pushed into her bottom. Abigail had never been buggered so had no way of estimating the size but it felt huge. She lay in despair. What worse could they do to her. With a shriek she realised liquid was invading her bowels. She could feel it bubbling inside her forcing its way higher and higher distending her stomach. She tried desperately to expel the invader in her rectum. Straining as with the worst constipation. But it was held firm. It was awful. But then it was worse. Suddenly, without warning, it was removed and, to her despair and shame she shat. She could feel the explosions in her bottom and then could smell the results. Her bottom was sponged with warm water and patted dry with a soft towel. She could feel powder being dusted on. Then she screamed as something was put back in her anus. It felt huge. It stretched her painfully. However much she strained and moaned and begged she could not get rid of it. She sank back in despair.

There was a prick in her arm and she could feel a needle being inserted. She could feel sticky tape strapping something hard to her arm. Her jaws were opened wide, held apart by something hard and metallic and she felt her teeth being cleaned. She gulped nervously lest she choke. Then she tried desperately to choke. She could feel a tube being pushed down her throat. Now she could not speak. She lay there unmoving knowing she was helpless. Then there were strange sensations in her stomach. Not painful but it was being stretched, and stretched, and stretched. Just before it became unbearable it stopped. She could feel fingers running over her belly testing the tautness of the skin.

Her legs were moved so they were clear of her breasts. She felt fingers playing with her nipples making them tight. Then It was a strange sensation; a gentle pressure, not painful rather as if someone was continuously sucking them. The fingers returned to her pussy. They ran along her outstretched labia. She realised how obscene she must look. Then she moaned, she was being frigged again. She felt sure now it was someone different. This one was less gentle more urgent. The fingers squeezed and pulled. It was painful. But she recognised the sensations in her belly. She was aroused. Then with an inarticulate moan she came. Almost instantly it seemed her cunt was on fire. An agonised shriek came from her gagged throat. She twisted and bucked her hips. It was impossibly painful. A hand pushed her groin holding her firm and then as another excruciating spasm of white agony shot through her she passed out.

Slowly she recovered consciousness. She remembered it. But there was no pain now. She felt fingers working at her pussy. She could feel a needle being pushed into her and then a thread being pulled through the hole, but no pain. It stopped, her feet were returned to their starting position and she was left. Abigail wondered what had been done to her. Slowly, very slowly, the pain returned to her cunt. But it was a throbbing aching pain not that ghastly heart stopping stab of pain. What had they done? Abigail panicked. They could have done anything. Perhaps she had been sterilised. She started to panic. She struggled against her unmoving restraints. Then a soft female voice started speaking to her. “Abigail is a slave, Abigail is a slave” It repeated insistently. “Abigail loves Master, Abigail belongs to Master. Abigail worships Master. There is only Master, Abigail is nothing. Abigail is unworthy of Master. Abigail wants Master to use her. Abigail’s wishes are nothing. Abigail is nothing. Abigail wants Master to take her. Abigail wants Master to fuck her. Abigail wants Master to bugger her. Abigail wants Master’s cock in her throat. Abigail begs to kiss Master’s arse.” On and on it went softly insistent repeating. Abigail wanted to scream. “I am not a slave. I am free, I am free.”

But she began to wonder. “Who is Master? What is he like? Is he kind? Will he love me? Will I love him?” “Abigail wants Master’s babies. Abigail wants Master to make her belly swell. Please Master fuck Abigail. Abigail is nothing. Please Master make Abigail whole. Please Master let Abigail lick your balls, suck your prick. Abigail wants Master to fill her cunt. Abigail wants to be impregnated. Please Master put Abigail to stud. Abigail begs Master to steal her milk.” She felt that insistent sucking at her teats. Would Master be like that? Abigail was thinking what it would be like when Master took her. “Would he be gentle? Would he make her come?”

She had no idea of time. Every so often she felt food being pumped into her. Always her stomach was overfull. The plug would be removed from her bottom and unwillingly she would shit. Sometimes the surface she was on would vibrate easing her aching back. And all the time, awake and asleep, “Abigail begs Master to use her. Abigail is Master’s pet, His brood mare, his milch cow. Abigail is unworthy of Master’s children. Another slave should cover Abigail. Abigail begs to give Master slave babies. Abigail is an animal. Abigail begs to be kept in Master’s kennels. Abigail is a little bitch to be covered by a dog.” Abigail thought constantly of Master. Who was he? How did he own Abigail? Slowly unwittingly she became a slave. Her very being yearned to feel Master, to give herself to him.

Then one day it changed. She felt her ankles being unfastened and then almost immediately refastened. She could feel pedals beneath her soles. Her feet were moved. She felt as though she was cycling on her back. She felt wires being taped to her skin on the soft inner thigh and under her breasts. She continued cycling for a while; it was pleasant to exercise her legs. But she grew bored and stopped. A pain shot from her thigh to her breast. She gasped for breath,. She tried to scream. Then hands were at her feet making them pedal. She learnt. Stop pedalling and agony would result. And still the voice. “Abigail wants her thighs to be strong. Abigail wants to wrap them round Master. Abigail wants to be fucked by Master. Please Master fuck Abigail.” Without realising it she was trying to mouth the words.

When the cycle stopped Abigail flinched awaiting the pain. But nothing happened. Her feet were returned to their original position. Her hands were freed and fixed to a bar above her. “Abigail wants her arms to be strong. Abigail wants Master in her arms. Abigail begs to hug Master. Abigail loves Master” She felt her hands being pulled down. She pulled feeling the ache as she pulled weights up. “Abigail wants to be strong for Master. Abigail wants to be a healthy slave.” Day after day she struggled. The pedalling got harder, the weights heavier. “Abigail will be strong for Master. Abigail will be a perfect slave.” Then one day she felt the tube being withdrawn from her throat. “Abigail wants to be perfect for Master” Then another female voice started. “It’s water to your left” it said, “and fruit juice to the right.” “Abigail wants to suck Master” the female voice started. She turned her head to the left. Something brushed her cheek. Her neck was not so tightly restrained. She put her tongue out. There was a hard plastic bulb with a tiny drop of water at the tip. She licked it. “Suck,” the voice said. She closed her mouth over the bulb feeling a shaft behind. She realised what she was doing. She had never fellated a man now she was sucking this artificial prick. Then she felt something being done to her cunt. A dildo slid into her. “If you want to piss,” the voice said, “You’ll have to squeeze it” Abigail wondered what she meant. The voice droned on. “Abigail wants to be strong for Master. Abigail wants to be tight for Master. Abigail wants to please Master. Master is everything. Abigail is nothing.” Gradually the effect of her liquid diet began to have its effect. Her bladder was full. She tried to pee but nothing. It was painful. She remembered the dildo. It wasn’t very large. Hans had been much bigger. She tried desperately to squeeze it and felt a tiny release of pressure. On and on she struggled. It was exhausting. She discovered she could do it if she tried really hard but she couldn’t sustain the pressure. Spurt by spurt she emptied her bladder. “Abigail wants to be strong for Master. Abigail wants Master’s prick in her tight little cunt.” Day after day she exercised, even on some occasions pulling weights cycling and attempting to empty her bladder at the same time. Unconsciously she was repeating what the voice said.

Then she awoke to find she was unrestrained. She felt her body. She realised her eyes were not covered but it was still pitch black. Was she blind? The voice was still speaking on and on. Abigail was repeating what it said. “Abigail is a slave. Abigail loves Master.” Then, slowly at first it, started getting light. She found it painful squeezing her eyes shut. She began to see. The room she was in was walled with mirror glass. She was lying on a couch in the middle. To one side was a cycling machine and to the other a weightlifting frame. In one corner was a loo. Carefully she sat upright and lowered her feet to the floor. She looked at the wall opposite. “God.” was her first comment. Her hands flew to her breasts. She looked down. Her nipples were huge like ripe strawberries. “Abigail wants Master to suck her” she repeated. “Abigail wants Master to take her milk.” She looked down at her groin. It was completely bald and her slit looked like a little girls. She pulled her labia apart. Her clitoris was gone and in its place was a pearl mounted in gold. And her inner labia had been cut away. A thin white scar was the only evidence of their existence. She stood and looked at herself. She was much rounder than she remembered and her skin paler. Her stomach, once so flat from exercise was gently rounded. She wasn’t fat but she was much softer, more female. “Abigail wants to be perfect for Master.” She saw, projecting from the wall two plastic dildos. She ran to them knelt and sucked. She wanted to pee and ran to the loo. Nothing! “Abigail wants to be nice and tight for Master.” Frantically she looked around. Lying on shelf was a thin plastic cylinder, no thicker than a finger. She slid it into her and reciting “Abigail wants to be nice and tight for Master” she pissed. Then as she looked at herself in the glass she saw a glint of steel in her bottom. “Abigail wants Master to bugger her. Abigail begs Master to use her arse for his pleasure.” She pulled it out. Her eyes stared it was huge. How was it she hadn’t screamed with pain. “Abigail wants Master to enjoy her bottom. Abigail wants to be perfect for Master.” She pushed it back in.

She stayed in that room for an eternity. Food appeared at a slot in the wall. Every so often one of the machines would buzz and she would exercise. Reciting “Abigail wants to be clean for Master” she would walk to the shower and be washed. Without realising it she was doing whatever the insistent voice said. Then she started “Abigail wants to be trained for Master. Please Master have Abigail trained. Abigail wants to be perfect for Master.” Her pleading grew in intensity. Her voice implored. She cried. She wanted to be trained. She begged. Then when she awoke there were two books in the room and several training aids. There was a life sized male dummy with realistic balls lying on its back. There were two dummies, male and female, fucking on a bed. She opened the book. “Abigail’s book of positions for a slave to please her Master.” On page after page were illustrations of sexual positions. The other book was “How Abigail sucks Master.” That day she sat and read. Eventually she took the book and knelt between the outspread thighs of the erect dummy. “Abigail wants to lick Master’s balls” she said and proceeded to do so. She had read carefully what to do. She started at its feet kissing the soles and proceeded to kiss up the inside of its legs. “Abigail wants to go nice and slowly for Master.” Slowly Oh so slowly she edged up the plastic legs desperate to reach the hard balls. But “Abigail wants to kiss Master all over.” Eventually she lay outstretched the tip of her tongue flicking over the stones. “Abigail wants to suck Master’s balls” and always “Abigail is a slave. Abigail is nothing. Abigail only exists to please Master.” “Abigail wants to lick Master’s arse. Abigail wants to tongue Master’s anus. Abigail wants her tongue in Master’s arse.” She wept with relief when “Abigail wants to lick Master’s prick” came from her mouth and then with joy “Abigail wants to suck Master. Abigail wants to suck Master harder, Harder, Harder” and the dummy spurted into her. “Abigail wants to swallow it all. Abigail is honoured by Master’s spend.” She was surprised to see the dummy go limp

Day after day, week after week Abigail trained. She learnt all the sexual positions. She learnt to ream Master whilst he was mounting another slave. She dreamt of him. She so wanted to see him. She ate the food even though it seemed very rich to her “Abigail wants to be soft for Master. Abigail is Master’s little fuck slut. Abigail belongs to Master.” The one day she realised she was not trying hard enough. However much she tried she sucked him too soon. She couldn’t help herself. Even as she recited “Abigail wants to kiss Master’s thighs” she was sucking the plastic balls. “Abigail is naughty. Abigail doesn’t love Master.” Then one morning she looked at the erect dummy and realised she could ride it. Her constant state of sexual arousal made her very frustrated. She straddled the dummy and with one hand parting her labia she sank onto him. The pain was unbelievable. She lay screaming cupping her burning cunt. It seemed to go on forever. She rolled and writhed screaming all the while. Slowly, far too slowly it ebbed. “Abigail is wicked. Abigail is a whore. Abigail is a slut. Abigail would fuck anything.” And she realised how much she needed to be punished. “Abigail begs Master to whip her. Please Master whip the wickedness from Abigail.” She was weeping with contrition. Perhaps Master wouldn’t want her. She couldn’t bear the thought. When she awoke there was a pillory on the room. There were rings for her neck and hands, one for her waist and set back rings for her ankles. Reciting “Please whip me Master.” She placed herself in position and the rings snapped shut. In the mirrored wall she could see a panel slide back and then, how she trembled, a thin rattan cane appeared held in a leather gauntlet. “Is that Master?” she thought. “Please can it be Master.” The rod stroked her nates making her tremble with fear and excitement. And then she watched as it rose. She saw a thin red line appear across her bum and then screamed. The pain was unbelievable. Her buttocks wobbled she clenched them and struggled. “Abigail thanks you Master. Abigail wants Master to whip her idle bottom.” Twelve times the dreadful cane sliced into her and twelve times she begged for more. After that she trained the harder but still she begged for the whip. She knew it made her better, more compliant, more the perfect slave. And she knew that unless she was perfect she would never see Master. She cried that she might never see him, never feel him, never give herself to him. She knew she belonged to him but she wanted to make it absolute, unconditional

Then she awoke in darkness. At first she panicked but as she raised her hands to her head and felt the hood. She didn’t understand what it meant but she was excited. She knew something new and exciting was to happen. She ran her hands over her body. Her huge nipples were hard. Her pussy was damp with anticipation. Would Master make her come? Would she ever come again? She didn’t know whether it was possible without a clitoris. Perhaps whatever had been done meant she would be in agony as he penetrated her. She felt strong leather clad hands pulling her to her feet. There was a collar round her neck and she felt herself being led on a lead. She trembled with excitement. She walked along carpeted corridors and up in a lift. Then she entered a warm room. Her feet sank into the thick carpet. She stood silent as her wrists were fixed behind her back and she was made to kneel. As her head was pushed beneath a duvet she was bursting with joy. She was to lick her Master. She wriggled up over the cool silk sheets that tortured her hard nipples. Master wasn’t there. All she could scent was clean linen. It seemed she knelt like that waiting forever. Then she flinched as a hand touched her bum. It was stroking her. She could feel rings but it was a hard hand. It grasped and moulded a buttock. She parted her legs invitingly. There was a gentle smack and it stopped. She could sense someone in the room as she waited and then the bed moved. Master was getting in! She could feel her nipples hard and hot and her trembling pussy. She felt the weight of his legs on either side and then smelt his masculinity. Excitedly squealing with pleasure she stuck her tongue out and oh the joy of it licked a hard testicle. A whip slashed into her bum. She squealed with pain. Why was Master cruel to her? She so wanted to please him. Her tongue darted out again and again the whip slashed. She wept. She was failing Master. He would never want to see her again. Then her training cut in. “Abigail wants to lick Master’s feet. Abigail wants to kiss Master’s legs.” She wriggled down the bed and started showering kisses on the soles of his feet. Slowly oh so slowly she kissed up his shins and then his knees. It was so much more exciting than the dummy she could smell him and taste him and soon, but not soon enough, she would be kissing his prick. She would be perfect for Master. Inch by inch she moved up his thighs kissing and darting her tongue out. Then once again she reached her goal. She kissed and licked and sucked. Dare she go higher. Master moved slightly. What did he want. “Abigail wants to lick Master’s anus. Abigail wants her tongue in Master’s arse.” Immediately her dextrous tongue flicked along the cleft and then with only pleasure she pushed it hard against the tight knothole. She licked the underside of his balls feeling the throbbing seminal vesicle. She licked up his shaft. Her tongue circled the throbbing helmet. “Abigail wants to suck Master. Abigail wants to suck Master.” She was crying with pleasure. And then suddenly he was gone.

Abigail wept and wept as she knelt under the duvet still scented of her Master but empty. What had she done wrong? She was led to her room and sobbing tears of dismay fell to sleep.

It seemed an age before once again she was led to his bed. This time she remembered and knelt, her head at the very edge of the mattress. She was sure she was perfect but yet again she was led away unfulfilled. Then when she knelt before the bed she realised Master was already in it and, to her sorrow, was a pair of women. Abigail choked on her tears. She hadn’t realised he would have more than one slave. Of course he wouldn’t want her. These women must be much better than her. She worked her way up his legs feeling soft hands stroking them and imagining soft lips being kissed and breasts fondled. As she started to lick his shaft she realised another woman had it in her mouth. How Abigail wished it were her. Then they tumbled about above her head. She inched forward. Oh! Master was fucking the girl. Abigail’s hands were untied. They shot to feel his firm bum and then gripping his hips firmly she tongued his arse as it thrust back and forth. She smelt the woman’s arousal. Abigail so wanted it to be her. She wanted Master to fuck her. She was his to do with, as he wanted. She licked and kissed puckering her lips around his anal ring and prodding her tongue hard against it. She felt him shudder. He was spending. How she wished it was into her. “Abigail begs Master to fuck her. Abigail begs Master to fuck her!” Then he rolled off the unknown slave and grabbing Abigail’s hair pulled her lips to his groin. Abigail was overcome. For the first time she felt his prick in her mouth. Still half hard, she licked and sucked it clean. She was in heaven as it hardened and she was allowed to continue. “Abigail wants Master to come in her throat” she prayed. But it was not be. The other woman got the benefit of his erection as Abigail plied her tongue.

She could sense it was different but did not know how. There was the same smell of sexual arousal. Master’s buttocks rose and fell as before. She felt his shuddering spend and then as he pulled her up to clean him she understood. As she licked and sucked him she knew he had been buggering the girl.

The next time Abigail was led from her mirrored room it was not to the bedroom. Instead she found herself kneeling on a rug. Blind and deaf she sensed there were other people in the room but hadn’t a clue what was going on. It seemed she was there for hours. She dared not move. “Abigail wants to be perfect for Master” she whispered. “Abigail wants to be perfect for Master.” Then she sensed a vibration. She smelt Master. Her head darted forward. He was wearing something. She felt with her lips. It was a gown. Slowly oh so slowly it seemed, whispering “Abigail wants to suck Master. Please Master may Abigail suck you.” she edged it aside. And then oh the pleasure her cheek brushed against his prick. “Abigail wants to lick Master’s balls.” She licked and sucked giving little moans of pleasure. And to her delight she was allowed to suck him properly. Her breasts were so full, her pussy so hot. She felt the fullness of him in her, his balls brushing her chin. Then she tasted his pre cum. Was it possible? Would he honour her so, give her such pleasure? His prick was throbbing. She felt his hands on her hair pulling her forward to take him all into her. She gagged as he pushed against the back of her mouth and then felt it push into her throat. Then she wept. He was coming. He was coming. She was serving him. He pulled back and she felt the last drops of his emission on her tongue. She rolled it around her mouth tasting it, feeling its texture. Then delicately, precisely as she was taught, doing exactly as she most desired, she licked him clean.

Several times after that he allowed her to finish him. She exercised in her room constantly thinking of him. She watched herself, seeing the beautiful perfectly feminine slave she had become. Her golden collar, her long blonde hair, her white skin and her gently rounded form. She was proud of her breasts firm but soft and topped by those huge coral pink nipples. How she wanted Master to suck them. She loved her tight little girl’s almost virginal slit, her naked mound, her gently rounded tummy. Master had made her body perfect. She had to make her mind, her very soul as perfect. One day she awoke to find she had thick gold rings though her nipples and her nose. The chased gold ring through her septum was strangely barbaric and very erotic. She looked like some exotic domesticated animal. How right she thought. I am his pet. Her tongue was sore. As she pushed it out she saw five golden studs. They were wonderful she thought. How much more pleasure Master would have when she licked him. She skipped round the room like a child chanting “Abigail loves Master. Abigail loves Master.” Despite the pain she spent the day practising licking her Master. A few days later she awoke a pain in her right breast. She looked in the glass. “Slave Abigail” was tattooed on it in a fancy curled script. She was pleased to be so permanently marked as his property. “Abigail is a slave. Abigail is a slave.” And then for the first time she departed from the script. “And Abigail loves being a slave.” She stood thinking. It was true. She loved being a slave. Having no mind of her own. Having one purpose in life. To serve Master with her body. “No” she thought out loud “Not my body, his body. I am nothing without him.” She sat for a while thinking. A great surge of contentment swept through her. Then she prostrated herself on the ground. “Master I am yours. Everything I am, everything I think belongs to you and you alone. Please use me as you want. I want to be perfect for you. The perfect slave.” And she wept tears of joy. The voice stopped but Abigail continued reciting her love and devotion, her willingness to serve, her unworthiness and her need to be punished. “I can never be good enough for you Master. Please make me perfect. Whip the wickedness out of me.” Next day placed herself in the pillory. She clenched her bum anticipating the pain. But she deserved it she knew. “Please Master whip the wickedness out of me. Then the pillory was moving. Slowly and gently she was forced upright and then arched right back. She was held firm. The wall slid open. She saw nothing but blackness. The gauntleted hand came out holding a whip. It had five smooth strands about eighteen inches long. The hand raised and then Abigail screamed. She realised her breasts were to feel the lash. She looked in disbelief at it crashed down. Her breasts bounced as five fine red lines appeared on them. Time and again it crashed down. She screamed but she begged for more. By the time the panel slid to she was marked from her shoulders to her crotch by a trelliswork of welts. She sighed with relief when the restraints clicked undone and kneeling massaging her tortured boobs she thanked her kind Master. “Abigail will be good. Abigail will be Master’s perfect fuck slave.”

It was a few weeks later when the marks had vanished that her wish came true. She awoke to find her elbows tied behind her back and wearing a blindfold. It was she realised not the usual one. Not as tight and perhaps she could see a glimmer of light through it. She felt excited. Something important was to happen. After an eternity of anxious waiting she was led out. She knew the route to the bedroom now and was bubbling with happiness when she recognised where she was. She stood trembling waiting for something to happen. Then feminine hands led her to the bed. She was surprised when instead of being made to kneel she was laid on it. Hands took her ankles and tied them wide and high. She felt cushions pushed beneath her hips. She lay trying to keep still. Was it to happen. “Abigail wants to be fucked. Please fuck Abigail.” she chanted. “Please fill me Master. Use me. Fill my womb. Take pleasure from me.” She began to writhe in excitement. Her breasts were full and her nipples painful. Her pussy dripping. Then she felt the bed move. “Please fuck Abigail, Please fuck your slave Master.” As she felt his fingers parting her labia and then sliding into her she moaned with pleasure. “Oh yes Master. Oh yes. Abigail is yours Master. Your fuck slut Master.” And then she screamed with joy. His helmet was in her. And then he was thrusting. He was huge. He was tearing her. She screamed in pain and bucked her hips to take more of him grinding and twisting. Slowly Oh so slowly he shafted her. She felt a rising excitement. Her body was melting. And then for the first time since that last dreadful occasion she came and came and came. Tears of joy were streaming down her face as Master whipped off her blindfold. She squealed with surprise. “Oh Master, Thank you. Thank you” she moaned to her Daddy. “Shut up and fuck slave” he said smiling. So she did.


It was a couple of years later, when Abigail helped to train her baby sister Emma, that she discovered all that had been done to her. She felt sorry for Emma when she first saw her strapped down plasters over her eyes and headphones in her ears. But she was happy for her. In a few short months she would be Master’s willing slave. And how happy she would be when she found that Daddy owned her. Perhaps, Abigail thought, I won’t be so jealous when he takes her. Abigail hated it when, as was usually the case, some other slaves were selected for his bed. She looked down on her sister’s naked restrained form. She was very pretty but her breasts perhaps too small. Abigail looked down at her own hugely swollen breasts and belly. She was sorry it wasn’t Master’s child but didn’t care otherwise who the unknown sperm donor might be. And Emma’s tummy was far too flat – like a boy. But her thighs were nice and would be much better after her special diet and exercise had had their effect.

Abigail sighed as Master frigged Emma to orgasm. She wondered if she had come before. She was only seventeen and although not a virgin (Or at least had no hymen) could not have fucked that many men. She looked at Emma’s face scarlet with embarrassment and horror as she arched in orgasm. Then It was Abigail’s task to prepare her for her new life. First she shaved her pubic hair. She took great clear to ensure that not a trace of the sparse curls remained, checking with her tongue, that most sensitive organ. Then she attached the clips to the girl’s labia and pulled them wide, clipping the cords off at the side. She realised how vulnerable her sister looked. Fitting the catheter was easier than she was expected and the enema was simple. She was surprised at the quantity of fizzing soapy liquid. Could she have taken as much? She carefully positioned the bucket and pulled it out. Poor Emma. She farted mightily and vast quantities of filth were explosively ejected. Having cleaned her sister Abigail pushed the smallest of the bum plugs in.

She fitted the saline drip with difficulty before taping the needle holder to Emma’s arm. Then using the sprung clips she held her mouth open. Having cleaned the dainty teeth she pushed the feeding tube down her gullet. She was extremely careful not to push it down the windpipe. She fitted the syringe and ladled in the food. It was disgusting. A mixture of cream, raw eggs, fat and porridge. It was enormously high in calories and roughage. As she pumped Emma’s tummy went taut. Abigail tested it. She felt the stomach beneath the skin. Then she turned to Emma’s nipples. She cleaned each very carefully before placing the vacuum cups over each. The pressure differential was low but sufficient to hold them tight.

She returned to her sister’s cunt to frig her again. She had never done this before because all Master’s slaves had been circumcised. She squeezed and pulled the tight little bud, watching fascinated at the girl’s frantic movements. Emma wailed in passion and Abigail applied the razor sharp scalpel. With a terrible scream the tiny sensitive organ was gone. She picked up the brand and cauterised the wound. Emma lay motionless. Master injected anaesthetic and Abigail set to slicing the labia minor away. She carefully stitched up the wound before putting a tiny ring just above the livid star shaped scar where the clitoris had been. Then she sat in the control room deciding on the messages Emma would receive.

Abigail visited four times a day. She fed her sister more of the enriching food, changed the catheter bag and evacuated her bowels. The food produced mighty turds. Gradually the bum plugs became larger. The vacuum on the nipple clips was slowly increased. She remembered to switch on the vibrating pad that would stop bedsores. She started exercising the girl. Then one morning she activated the tiny electronic valve that controlled her bladder. From now on Emma would exercise her vaginal muscles or it would burst. Abigail was happy when Emma first saw her changed body. Like her she was astonished at her nipples and Abigail smiled as she watched them harden rapidly. Abigail remained responsible for her sister’s training although she was absent for a couple of days when she gave birth. She loved the twin black girls she had carried but she loved her Master more, especially when he sucked at her breast. She watched as Emma first licked him, noting that Emma made exactly the same mistake of being too eager. Abigail slashed the whip down onto her baby sister’s unprotected buttocks. Emma would be a perfect slave. When the time came to whip her firm young breasts Abigail was merciless.

A few weeks later she was in Master’s bed with Anne and Emma was at the foot. She felt sorry for her sister when Master removed his hard thick shaft from her mouth but delighted when it slid into her own willing tight vagina. Since the birth she had exercised continually and was now back using the smallest dildo. Then she watched as Emma knelt waiting in the harem. Abigail remembered how she had known there were other people in the room. She looked round at the happy laughing slaves. All were beautiful. All were young. And all loved Master. Then she was entranced as Emma fellated Master. The child was obviously concentrating so hard. And her delight when he spent down her throat was obvious.

Abigail ran to tell Master when Emma made her submission. She showed him the video. Emma kneeling, arms outstretched, begging her unseen owner to take her. To use her as he wished. Abigail ringed the girl in her sleep and then sat and watched as Julie tattooed her breast. Julie was getting more skilled all the time and enclosed “Slave Emma” in a pretty cartouche of honeysuckle. Finally Abigail prepared her sister for her final submission. She led her through the corridors and laid her on Master’s bed. She tied the girl’s ankles wide to the bedposts and raised her hips. Abigail waited kneeling with her legs wide and eyes downcast for her Master. She was jealous of her sister. Then he came in. He patted Abigail on the head before sitting beside Emma. Abigail dare not look but she listened to Emma’s moans. Then boiling with jealousy and frustration she heard the girl’s scream as her oh so tight cunt was stretched wide.

It was Abigail, discovered later, Emma’s first fuck. She was so smug that Master had taken her three virginities. “But” thought Abigail as they shared his bed “She can’t give him a teat to suck.” Emma was already begging Master to have her naked mons branded with his mark like the rest.

Author: Scribbler s-c-ribbler@talk21.com