A slavegirl takes the next step in her training.

I arrived at my Master's house promptly at 12:00 noon as I had been ordered to the night before. Master Robert had paged me and informed me to be at his house for a training session. I had been Master's slave for about four months, during which time he had taught me the proper way to address my Master, dress, present myself for inspection and display, pleasure Master with my mouth and tongue, and cook and clean to his specifications. In particular, I was to keep the basement dungeon very clean, which included oiling the many whips that were there, checking the equipment for any damage, and mopping the floor and so forth. A small cage was also available in the dungeon, and I was to make sure this was always tidy. I was never allowed to sleep with Master but, instead, stayed in the cage overnight when told to do so.

I made sure of two things when I arrived at Master's house: to be on time and to dress appropriately. I had once been a few minutes late when I stopped to check on some people who were having car trouble, but quickly learned that this was unacceptable behavior. Master was greatly displeased when I arrived that day and gave me a lash with his crop for each minute I was late. It was the first time that I was disciplined so harshly and the memory of the pain was deeply seared into my mind. There was no way I ever wanted to experience that again.

Secondly was my attire. I was 5'3", 124 lbs., with long, wavy brown hair and brown eyes, 34c-25-34, and quite fit. The latter was ensured by an extensive exercise regimen assigned by Master. The end result, however, was that I had a killer body and it greatly complimented my very pretty looks. I was dressed to complement my body as I had been previously trained to do. As a result, I wore a skimpy sundress with spaghetti straps that hung low in front and high on my thighs. I could not wear a bra with this outfit but it didn't really matter as my breasts were ample enough to hold the dress in place. I was permitted panties in public, though never in private, and wore silk ones to match the dress. Finally, I wore nice heels as well as Master's prescribed perfume. I had bathed and closely shaven that morning as well, taking extra care around the pubic area.

I rang the doorbell with great anticipation, looking forward to my training session. I was sure it would involve a reinforcement of things we had worked on previously, such as cleaning different areas of the house, preparing lunch, and pleasuring Master. Our training sessions had always involved one-on-one interactions and been private, thus allowing me to quickly learn what I needed to as a slavegirl. Master was a controlling Dominant in the Gorean style who clearly enjoyed giving me commands and having me obey them. He was extremely intelligent, the owner of several electronics stores, and quite competitive in athletic contests of various sorts. He was handsome as well and I enjoyed being at his side in public. I believed too that he appreciated my beauty and intelligence and ability to maintain a good conversation. All in all things had gone quite well, I thought.

Master answered the door after a long period of time, much longer than usual. I smiled brightly at him and he gestured for me to enter. The house was beautiful as always, with large spaces, gorgeous furniture, and flowers everywhere. Master certainly enjoyed his possessions. I followed him to the living room and he sat down, looking at me. I was a little uncomfortable because he had not spoken yet, and wondered briefly if I had gotten the time right. But I had.

I was not told to sit or kneel, but simply stood there as Master examined me. I straightened my back a bit more to heave my breasts and give him a good show. Then he spoke.

"Your slave contract expires today at 1:00, did you remember that?"

I had. "Yes, Master Robert, I did remember that."

"Your training has gone quite well, don't you think?

"Yes, Master Robert, I believe it has gone very well." I smiled.

"As I mentioned at the beginning of your training, there are different levels of training, each more difficult than the last. Are you interested in continuing your training?"

"Yes, Master Robert, very much so."

"This is your only chance to back out, otherwise I have another four-month contract for you to sign."

"Yes, Master Robert, I will be happy to sign another contract."

"You realize you can go freely now and I will give you all the pictures and video that I have of your training?"

Master had filmed me in many compromising positions over the past month and told me that, should I leave the contract prematurely, the film would be released to my co-workers and boss. I knew I would be utterly humiliated should that happen, and didn't dare leave the contract. But I had greatly enjoyed the past four months and wished to continue.

"Yes, Master Robert, but I wish to stay."

"Very well, sign here, but remember the next phase is more difficult."

Without thinking about it very much, I hurried over to the contract. It was placed on the table in such a way that I had to kneel to sign it, but did so. Master took the contract and pen and carefully filed them away. He then returned to me as I continued to kneel. I was sure that I would be allowed at that point to pleasure him with my mouth and tongue and soft hands, but was in for a bit of a surprise.

"Your attire for today is in the dungeon. Change into it and return here."

"Yes, Master Robert."

I walked to the dungeon door and went down the steps. On a small table was a neon orange thong bikini with bright orange 4" spiked heels. Both were garish but I placed them on as ordered and checked myself in the mirror. I flicked my hair and jiggled my breasts a bit - my I was a pretty thing! Lastly I put on my thick leather slave collar with a single ring for a leash.

I returned to the living room and to Master. Strangely, he did not seem all that interested in my outfit, not even bothering to see me in my cute figure. Instead, he made a simple statement.

"You are a slavegirl and will address all men you meet this weekend as "Sir," do you understand that?

What did that mean? "Y-yes, Master Robert, all men I meet this weekend are to be addressed as "Sir."

Just then the doorbell rang and my heart skipped a beat. "Answer the door and show hospitality, slut."

"Y-yes, Master Robert," I stammered, stunned by the fact that another would be joining us, that I was dressed like this before someone else, and that I was referred to as slut by my Master. He had never said that before.

I walked carefully to the door in my heels and opened it. There stood a man much like Master, tall, well-built, confident, and clearly a Dominant. I stood motionless for a second before I recovered.

"Greetings, Sir, please come in."

He said nothing to me but did enter and shook hands with Master. I was mortified at my position and attire, and blushed heavily. I suddenly felt very self-conscious and vulnerable. Master spoke.

"Girl, prepare us lunch quickly." He was very stern.

"Y-yes, Master Robert." I walked nervously to the kitchen and quickly prepared a delightful lunch of crab salad, soup, cookies, and soft drinks. I was hungry as well, not eating before because I figured I would eat with Master as always. I was wrong.

The two men ate at the kitchen table as I served them lunch. I tried to be a bit playful with Master, rubbing my thigh against him gently but got no reaction. Why? During lunch, I refilled drinks and served seconds, then cleaned up as the men retired to the living room. I could hear muffled voices but could not make out what they were saying. After cleanup, I returned to the living room. Both men stared at me. Master spoke.

"slut, you will be questioned by Whipmaster. You will answer his questions truthfully and to the best of your ability. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master Robert." I was motioned to kneel before Whipmaster and did so nervously. He did not hesitate.

"Who are you, slut?"

"My name is kelli, uh, my Master is Master Robert, Sir."

"What is the purpose of a slavegirl, slut?"

"To obey her Master, Sir" I was very nervous now.

"How are you disciplined, slut?"

"Through the crop, sexual deprivation, and neglect from my Master, Sir."

I could tell these were unsatisfactory answers but wasn't sure why. Whipmaster's tone was one of irritation.

"What do you think about during the day, slut?"

I had been told to be truthful. "Work, bills, errands, and Master of course, Sir."

"Why do slavegirls and Masters exist, slut?"

I had only thought about this in the abstract a few times, and stammered in trying to answer. I started to when I was cut off. "That's enough," Whipmaster said. "Yes, Sir." But he was not talking to me. Master then spoke.

"Whipmaster has been very kind in coming here today and spending his valuable time with the likes of you, slut. It is time to properly thank him. "Thank you, Sir," I said naively. Master shook his head.

"No, I mean pleasure him." At that point, Whipmaster stood close before me, his crotch in my face, smelling of sex and Dominance.

"W-what?," I stammered. I had never had to pleasure another man during my training, and my head was spinning.

Whipmaster spoke. "It is clear she needs a marathon session, I agree. We can proceed." Master then spoke.

"slut, you will do everything you are told to do today and tomorrow. You will do it quickly and without hesitation or you will be released from your contract and the film sent out. Do you understand?"

The stern tone in his voice meant I had better respond quickly. "Yes, Master, I understand, I will do as I am told."

"Get into the car, front seat."

"Yes, Master." I scurried to the car and sat in the front seat as Master drove and Whipmaster rode in the back. The weather was cool this spring day, not hot, and my nipples shot forth through the shoddy fabric of my bikini top. The thong was now buried deep into my crack but I didn't dare remove it. I sat motionless. Master spoke.

"You will sit up in your chair upright at all times and do as you are told without the slightest bit of hesitation or you will be punished severely and released from your contract. Do you understand, slut?"

"Yes, Master, I understand" as my head hung low in respect and submission. What was going to happen to me?

Master drove around town silently for a while, seemingly aimlessly, as I squirmed nervously in my seat. I was in a car with two very Dominant Masters and was dressed as skimpily as could be. I found myself horrified and excited at the same time, and also quite intimidated. I was now in a position where these two men could do virtually anything to me. I knew that my only ticket out was complete and utter obedience. I was their slave.

Master drove to a convenience store, very busy this afternoon, and handed me a five-dollar bill. "Go in and get me a pack of gum." I was stunned at the request but knew again from his tone that he was very serious. "Yes, Master," I quickly said and went into the store.

I was very out of place. The store was in a less than upscale part of town and there was plenty of trashy people there. Still, no one was dressed in an orange thong bikini and heels as I was. As soon as I walked in all eyes were upon me, specifically my breasts and ass. Worse, there was a line at the counter. I retrieved the gum and stood in line, feeling everyone's eyes and hearing so much snickering and laughing. I was utterly humiliated and embarrassed, so much so that I could not even raise my head. When it was finally my turn at the counter, I placed the gum down and handed over the money. The clerk did not immediately respond, instead taking time to leer at my chest. All the sexiness I felt earlier was gone. Instead, I was a piece of meat to be stared at. After what seemed like the longest time, I paid and ran out of the store to the car, head lowered. I had learned my lesson and looked forward to going home. I was not so lucky.

Master drove to another convenience store and parked. "You didn't get any gum for Whipmaster. You will do so now. In addition, you are not to run at any time, but walk very slowly and sashay as you do. Do you understand, slut?"

I closed my eyes very briefly but quickly answered, "Yes, Master." I repeated the scenario from earlier, again feeling humiliated and embarrassed as I sashayed around. Once again, all eyes were on my breasts and ass and the laughter continued. As a beautiful women, I was always used to compliments on my figure and was able to tease men with my body. Not now. Now I was simply a piece of ass on display for men. The thought excited and horrified me, but I was learning something.

Returning to the car, the humiliation scene was played out all over town in convenience stores, gas stations, restaurants, and other very public places. Each time, my requirements were made more stringent - more delay, more display, more conversations with strangers, more sluttiness. By the end of the afternoon, I was thoroughly humiliated and broken. I would have done anything to make it stop, even pleasure Whipmaster. Master and Whipmaster knew this, of course. Master spoke.

"Do you wish this to end, slut?"

My head was hung low in respect and submission. Gone was the familiarity with which I had called "Master Robert" before. He was now simply "Master."

"Yes, Master."

"Do you have anything else to say?"

"Yes, Master, slut apologizes profusely for her earlier hesitation and will obey quickly and willingly, Master. She understands her place and will obey without hesitation, Master." I meant every word. At this point, I would do anything I was told. Both men knew this, of course. I was their slave.

Arriving home, I was told to strip and go to the dungeon. Without even thinking about Whipmaster's presence, I stripped quickly as ordered and scurried to the dungeon. Gone was the walking I did before, now I jumped quickly at Master's command. In the dungeon I was placed in a special stock that forced my head near the floor and my slave ass raised high. My arms and neck were secured as were my legs. My slave ass was now very exposed. I wondered what my next training involved. I didn't have to wait long.

Master took a very thick belt from the wall and struck my slave ass hard. I writhed and squirmed in sharp pain, as it was much different from the crop. He did so again, in the same place, causing tears to come. It hurt. He then struck the opposite side, even harder. It felt as if my slave ass would explode. He continued to lash me, always on the same spot, the same welt, so that my discipline would be all that more intense. Whipmaster watched but did not participate. Master expertly changed the length of time between lashes so that I did not know when the next would hit, giving it even more effect. My body writhed and I yearned to communicate to Master. Finally, I was given the chance.

"Do you wish more punishment, slut?

Quickly I replied "NO, Master!!"

"What have you learned today so far?"

I took advantage of the opening.

"That slut is to do as she is told without hesitation and as quickly as possible, Master. That she is to respect Master and do as she is told at all times. She is a slave and the property of Master, and she is thankful and grateful for her collar. She is to honor Master by obeying him completely, and by showing proper respect. She will be a devoted piece of property and continue to beg for her slavery, which is a privilege for her. She is proud to be the slut slave property of Master!"

"You have one other thing to learn, slut"

Both Masters then took turns splitting my anus with their cocks, causing me to shriek in discomfort. However, the apparatus I was in only allowed my to offer my slave ass to them, and after some time I did so more willingly. My slave ass was the property of Master, after all, what could I do? Whipmaster interviewed me again.

"Who are you, slut?"

"The devoted property and slut slave of Master, Sir."

"What is the purpose of a slavegirl, slut?"

"To obey, serve, please, and arouse her Master, Sir, in every way and without hesitation."

"How are you disciplined, slut?"

"As Master wishes, Sir, for my education and for his pleasure."

"What do you think about during the day, slut?"

"Only how to better please and serve Master, Sir."

"Why do slavegirls and Masters exist, slut?"

"It is the natural order of things, Sir."

Whipmaster nodded and I was released to kneel before them. I knew now my only value to them was my mouth and slave tits and ass. I also knew my training was to continue even more harshly the next day. For I had seen Master earlier reading the want ads for an exotic dancer in a strip club. I knew very soon I would be stripping, dancing, serving drinks, and profiting for men and Master. I was a slavegirl.

Part 2

Following my interview I was instructed to stand before Master and Whipmaster, naked except for my collar and heels. My head was lowered in respect and submission, my arms to my side. My slave ass was still inflamed from the abuse that it had been subjected to, and moving about only made it worse. Therefore, I was relatively still and on display for the two Dominants in front of me. They lingered before speaking to me, no doubt inspecting their property and hopefully deriving some pleasure from it, for that would mean less punishment for me. Master spoke.

"We have one more thing to show you tonight, slut. Turn your attention to the television."

"Yes, Master." I quickly complied.

What I saw next nearly made me faint, as Whipmaster placed a tape in the VCR and pushed "play." It was a recording of one of my last assignments in the convenience stores, one where I had been instructed to remove my bikini top and strut around the store. At one point, I had stopped and jiggled a bit as Master had told me to do. Everyone around the store was naturally gawking and laughing and snickering, and all I wanted to do was to get out as quickly as possible. And here it was on tape. Whipmaster stopped the tape and spoke to me.

"Should you break any part of your slave contract or not obey every command henceforth without hesitation and as enthusiastically as possible, then this tape and all of the previous material we have on you will be released to your co-workers and family. In addition, you will be severely punished and humiliated if you are permitted to keep your collar. Do you understand, slut?"

"Yes, Sir, slut understands, Sir. She values her collar and wishes not to dishonor her Master in any way. She will obey fully and with great dedication and enthusiasm, Sir." I meant every word. The humiliation and pain would be crushing. Oddly, I thought, though, the idea that I would not be able to serve these Dominants was most awful. They had begun to enslave my mind to the point that not serving them would be as painful as the whip or my humiliation. Both Master and Whipmaster knew this, of course, and were working it to their complete advantage. Master spoke.

"Do you wish to keep your collar, slut?" Both men saw my knees buckle a bit at the question, no doubt giving them great pleasure.

My eyes shot to the floor. I wanted to be as submissive as possible. "Yes, Master, very much so, her collar is this slut's most prized gift from her Master. She wears it with great pride and thanks Master for the honor and privilege of allowing her to wear it, Master."

"Very well, up against the wall for chaining."

"Yes, Master." I ran quickly to the wall, arms up to be chained so that my face was nearly touching the wall. I had hoped that Master and Whipmaster would simply leave me there, but instead I was pulled up so that I could remain only on my tiptoes. This helped tighten my already taut ass and thigh muscles. Master spoke.

"In the store today you did not jiggle as much as we would have liked. You will learn to obey your commands enthusiastically or the whipping you are about to receive will be a daily occurrence, and much worse. Is that clear, slut?"

Master was a harsh, strict, Gorean-like disciplinarian who tolerated no disrespect, disobedience, or deviation from his commands. I was learning very quickly that any independent thought of my own, any independent interpretation of Master's order, was not to be tolerated or unpunished in any way. I was to be a mindless slavegirl, concentrating only on Master's commands and obeying utterly, completely, enthusiastically, and without a shred of delay. Any violation of that rule was to be punished severely.

I could hear Master and Whipmaster both choose whips. Both lashed the whips in the air once so I could hear them, and I could tell they were heavy ones. Without warning one of them lashed my bottom, causing it to sear in pain and me to howl. It felt as though my pretty, fleshy slave ass had been split in two. No sooner then the ripples of sensation just begun to barely fade then the second lash fell, this time from another whip and nearly in the same spot. This whip was much bigger and wider, and hurt so much that I was barely able to scream. I nearly fainted from the shock and could not even stand, my knees buckling and my eyes tearing. I was terrified of more lashes but only silence remained. My body crumpled as my legs weakened, and I was allowed a respite. After a period of several minutes, which seemed liked hours, I was released to again stand before Master and Whipmaster. Master spoke.

"You may answer my question now, slut, do you understand?"

I understood all too well. "Yes, Master, your slave slut understands well. She is to obey Master's commands completely, enthusiastically, and without delay. Otherwise she will be whipped and punished in other ways on a daily occurrence, Master. She only wishes to obey, serve, please, and arouse her Master and will work hard to do so, Master."

"Very well, present yourself."

"Yes, Master." I knelt, naked in my heels and collar, thighs parted for display, arms back, back arched to heave my slave breasts and nipples, head lowered in respect and submission.

"You may pleasure us, slut."

"Yes, Master, thank you, Master." I could hardly believe what I was saying, but I was so grateful that the punishment of the day had ended, at least temporarily, that I eagerly pleasured both Master and Whipmaster with my hot, wet slave mouth. I found myself so happy for the opportunity to please both of them, to show that their slave was now ready and eager to serve, that I bobbed and licked and jiggled like never before. I knew that I had done a good job because both men came rather quickly, and I cleaned them well. I was so grateful for the privilege. Master spoke.

"You may thank us now for your training today."

"Yes, Master." I had learned my lesson about the need to be submissive, to do more than simply say "Thank you." I therefore got on my belly onto the floor and placed my arms in back of me, my face planted firmly into Master's foot. I licked and kissed both filthy feet and was glad to do so. I did the same with Whipmaster's feet before I was ordered to my feet. I obeyed very quickly, and lowered my head again in respect and submission.

Upon doing so I was chained with very heavy chains on my wrists and ankles. In addition, a smaller chain was attached to my collar and then to the other chains, ensuring that I was not going anywhere. I was then led to the small cage in the dungeon and placed inside. It had a small cot and blanket but nothing else. Master closed the door behind me and I was a naked, collared, chained, caged slave. I had been stripped bare of any dignity. Master and Whipmaster turned to leave the dungeon. As they did so, I pressed my slave breasts up against the bars in a vain attempt for leniency (I knew better then to speak without being spoken to first). I thought that perhaps the sexiness of it would spur Master to treat his slut with some compassion. Instead, both men exited the dungeon without even turning around to look at me, and turned out the light. I laid on my cot and thought about the day. I wanted to masturbate but had not been given permission to do so. If I touched Master's pussy without permission I would be severely whipped. I lay in the darkness and waited for morning, rubbing my sore slave ass, and wondering what was next for me.

Morning came. Master entered the dungeon, turned on the light, and motioned for me to stand. I obeyed as quickly as I could given the heavy chains and lowered my head. The cage door was opened and my chains were removed. I was nervous, wondering if I would be whipped again, but stood motionless waiting for my command. My world had been reduced to what Master would tell me to do, and my obedience after that. I was either listening to a command or carrying out the command. The tightness of my slave collar reminded me of who I was. Master spoke.

"You are to make breakfast for Whipmaster and myself. The menu is upstairs in the kitchen. Move!"

"Yes, Master," I said before scurrying up the stairs, my slave breasts and ass jiggling well and my feet still in heels from the day before. I quickly reached the kitchen to begin my domestic service. I was an excellent cook, a trait Master had considered when agreeing to train me. I was happy to cook for two reasons. One, it meant no punishment and two, I was starving, having not eaten since early the day before. That didn't matter, of course, as I was a slave and Master's needs were paramount.

Both men sat at the table as I served pancakes, bacon, poached eggs, pastries, juice, and coffee. Both ate with a voracious appetite, although I was not allowed to do so. Gone was my playfulness from the day before. Fear of another bullwhipping and extensive humiliation made me very attentive to their beck and call. I knew that any mistake would be costly for me, and hoped that my nude form would provide an attractive backdrop for their meal. However, I was largely ignored.

Following the meal and cleanup (also my responsibility), I was permitted to eat some bland cream-of-wheat from a dog dish. I had to kneel down to do so, sticking my slave ass high in the air as I ate. I was so hungry that I was grateful for the opportunity to eat and drink. I cleaned up this meal and returned to Master for my next command, standing with my head lowered in respect and submission. This continued for nearly an hour, during which time I wondered why I had not been given any command. I began to realize that I was there for a reason, perhaps to teach me that Master can command me at any time, and I must be ready. Finally, Master spoke.

"You may shower and primp, slut, for you have a full day ahead of you. Take your time to look your best, though I know you have not much to work with. Your outfit will be waiting for you. Go."

"Yes, Master." I scurried to the bathroom to shower as I was filthy from the day and night before. I had always thought of myself as pretty, even stunning, but from Master's comment began to wonder about my appearance. My body was curved, taut, and ravishing, but my self-esteem about it was now low. Maybe it was not good enough to please men, especially Dominant Men. What could I do to become more alluring? I didn't know, and had to rely on my training to help answer that question.

Following extensive showering, grooming, and primping, I placed on the outfit chosen for me. It was a tight-fitting sundress, flower-print, that barely covered my slave breasts and pussy. It felt like it was painted on me, and it was difficult to sit in it. Surprisingly, I was allowed to wear a silk thong for underwear, a luxury I was almost never permitted (I was always to be on display for Master). Less surprising were the high heels I was required to wear, understated but difficult to wear and excellent for tightening my leg muscles. I stared at myself in the mirror for several minutes, doing some final primping so that Master would be pleased.

I stood before Master and Whipmaster like a horse on display at a fair. I wanted to be inspected and found worthy of some attention, but was instead told to get into the car. I wondered if I was to humiliate myself topless in convenience stores again, but wasn't wearing the bikini from the day before. Instead, we drove to a shady part of town and next to a tattoo shop. I was totally confused, but ordered out of the car and inside. Master and Whipmaster shook hands with the owner, who thoroughly looked me up and down, smiling crookedly as he did so. I was nervous but that didn't matter to the men. What mattered was that my time had come for branding.

I was led to a small room full of equipment and told to stand before the owner. He sat down in front of me and placed his hand on my inner thigh, pressuring it to move away from my other thigh. I complied, instinctively knowing that any disobedience or resistance would be severely punished. The owner then began to place a tattoo in my inner thigh. I was horrified that my body was being altered or changed without my consent, but knew there was nothing I could do. I had signed a 4-month slave contract and was bound to it until then. I could leave then but not until then. The instrument bit into my flesh, causing me to gasp in pain, but I was not permitted to move and didn't dare to. The procedure took several minutes.

When finished, my left inner thigh was marked with a "?" Master explained.

"Slut, you are now marked with the symbol for kajira, or a Gorean slave girl. Whenever you look at the thigh it will remind you of your status as a slavegirl, and others who see it who understand will also know."

"Yes, Master, thank you, Master, for this exquisite gift. Your slavegirl is most thankful and will work hard to obey, serve, please, and arouse Master." I said these words without hardly thinking and without any care about the shop owner. That surprised me, but I realized I was becoming a well-trained slavegirl. However, what I saw next showed me that I had a ways to go.

The shop owner clapped his hands once and out popped an absolutely stunning woman of immense beauty. She appeared as if from nowhere, long, straight blonde hair, blue eyes, incredibly well-proportioned with gorgeous legs, long arms, and perky breasts. She could not have been more than 20 years old. Most striking was the fact that she was naked, in heels, with a thick leathered slave collar. She stood next to the shop owner, a grizzly man in his late 40s, motionless and with eyes lowered. It was obvious that she was his slave, but even more than that, a very well-trained slavegirl. She was totally oblivious to anyone else in the room, not caring that she was naked and collared. All she focused on were her Master's words and his commands. As soon as he spoke, she instinctively listened and moved extraordinarily quickly to obey. He did not even have to tell her to move quickly, as she did so.

"Drinks for these men."

"Yes, Master," the girl replied, slipping out quickly and returning almost as quickly for Master and Whipmaster (as a slave, of course, I was not entitled to such hospitality). The girl knelt before the two men, her head lowered as she lifted the drinks to them. They took it without a word and the girl remained where she was, not daring to move until told to do so. As Master, Whipmaster, and the shop owner chatted, I kept my gaze on the girl. She did not move a muscle until several minutes later when the shop owner clapped his hands twice and she receded from view. I could tell that she was absolutely terrified of her Master and of disobeying him. I shuddered to think what training had brought her to the point of a mindless bimbo slut who was incapable of anything but strict and immediate obedience to her Master. After all, she was an exceedingly beautiful woman who could have any number of men at her feet. Instead, she was completely controlled by this decidedly unattractive, balding tattoo shop owner. It was only later on that I realized she was there for my benefit. I found myself horrified, fascinated, and even envious of the slavegirl whose entire world surrounded her obedience, control, and punishment.

Back in the car, I had so many questions but was not permitted to speak. Above all, I wondered how the gorgeous blonde ended up in the position she was. I was too naive to know that the path she took was the one I was currently on.

Master drove only a short way to a topless strip club. Upon stopping, he attached a very small microphone to my high heel (recall he owned several electronics stores). He then spoke to me.

"Slut, there is an opening for a strip dancer here, and I have arranged an interview for you. You will go in, find the manager, and interview for the position. I will hear everything that goes on, so any attempt to sabotage this interview will be severely punished. You are to do what the manager says, and be sure you do what is necessary to secure the position. I know this is a lot for a slut to understand, but do you?"

Inside of me, there was slight hesitation but I did not dare show it on the outside. "Yes, Master," I replied, "slut understands and will secure the position, Master, she thanks you for the opportunity to serve and please her Master."

I then entered the club. My head was spinning at the prospect of stripping before so many men, my breasts shimmering on the dance floor. But, what could I do? I had to obey. I walked past the men sitting at tables, a variety of professionals, working-class stiffs, and low-lifes. The place was dingy and filthy. The dancer on stage was gyrating for her audience, dressed only in a thong and heels. She was beautiful, but the men around her mostly gave her catcalls and laughs. I asked for the manager and was escorted into a small office. The owner looked me up and down in my tight-fitting sundress and I found myself immediately straightening up for display. He spoke.

"Why should I give you this job when you have no experience?"

"I am a fast learner, Sir, and very motivated to do well here. I will do as I am told and will work hard at dancing, serving drinks, and anything else I am needed for, Sir. I will work what hours you say and be grateful for them."

"I see, well, I have to determine how motivated you are, and how well you listen. I also have to see the merchandise to see if you have any chance of earning me a dime, so strip completely for inspection."

I was thrown off by the command but knew I had to comply, especially with Master listening to every word. I didn't understand why I had to strip completely when it was only a topless joint, but quickly disrobed. Almost instinctively and without being told, I placed my hands on my head so that my wares could be fully displayed. I knew by now that it was my slave breasts and ass that mattered most, so these had to be displayed prominently. I was simply a piece of ass that could be of some service to men making money.

The owner walked around me slowly, not touching me but examining every inch of my body. I was humiliated but also hopeful that I would be found to be of some use. He then opened the door and let in several bouncers and regular patrons, about 15 in all, who came in to inspect the new piece of meat. By now I was thoroughly humiliated as several snickered and no one seemed appreciative of my body. I had been so used to teasing men with my body before but now I was constantly surrounded by men who were not intimidated by my curves. Instead, they saw me only as a piece of merchandise to be bought, sold, rented, and used, like the slavegirl in the tattoo shop. Each man took his turn examining me closely, including my new brand. Some took note of the whip marks on my slave ass and chuckled. They knew.

The owner dismissed the other men and told me I was hired. I kept my hands on my head for inspection but thanked the man for his generosity to me. Here I was, thanking a man who had just utterly humiliated me and inspected me at length. A man who would be making considerable money off my wares. I felt as though I was his slave as well. I was given my hours, told to dress, and dismissed.

Back in the car, Master and Whipmaster nodded and drove to a secluded spot. I knew from the bulges in their pants what I would be commanded to do next. I was relieved that I was allowed to do so, because it meant my performance in the strip club was adequate. I knew too that my training had just begun, that I was about to endure humiliations I had never experienced before. But I knew it could last only four months before I could withdraw from the slave contract if I wanted to. But, as I said before, I was naive.