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)