Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
"Most satisfactory, slaveboy. Now, let me do you."
Pearl grabbed my wrists and had me put my hands together on the shower column, then got me to bend forward and arch my back, thrusting my tight bottom out. She ordered me to stay in that position while she cleaned me. Her hands all over my body brought me fully awake. She started at my head and finished at my feet, getting the grime and sweat out of every part. She spent a lot of time on my arse, slipping a soapy finger inside to violate me, and cleaning over my cock cage as best she could.
The guards roamed around, encouraging the more reluctant slaves to wash each other properly, applying their crops or stun-sticks wherever they liked. All the slaves soon learned that complete intimacy between us was the norm. Nothing but absolute exposure would suffice.
When Pearl and I had finished our shower, we each went to the toilet, then walked to the edge of the shower area and collected dry towels. A breeze picked up across the courtyard as we dried each other down, making my naked, rake thin body shiver until my nanites kicked in to warm me up. When I'd dried Pearl, she took her chastity belt over to a guard and asked to be locked back up. The guard pulled the belt onto her, cinching it even tighter than it had been before. Pearl looked so turned on by the roughness, and thanked the guard by kissing her feet.
The fifteen minutes were nearly up and we reassembled in a line. The moment I settled into display posture, my suite of nanites sent another pulse of warmth through my body. I was already getting addicted to these, craving them. I think they were tapping into reserves of slutty submissiveness that I must have always had. My first experience with slavery was so rough and humiliating that I'd been denying my nature in the years since. Now, here amongst my fellows, I was starting to feel free to really explore the experience.
The guards inspected each of us. A slim young guard moved up behind me and spread my cheeks with her hands. She probed my hairless backside, looking for grime or dirt, and found none. A few slaves who hadn't cleaned each other properly were given spankings right there and then. Pearl and I were judged to have done a good job. I saw Maya and Desiderata both receive a punishment, their cute little bottoms burning crimson when it was done. Tears of humiliation wetted Maya's eyes.
We were taken to eat, then moved to a classroom and locked to desks, where we were drilled in the theory of slavery and obedience. The instructor took a real liking to slave AF-M-4, the ten year termer who had come in with us.
"Slave AF-M-4, what is your status?" she asked.
"Mistress, I am a nameless slave, a piece of property, a boy. I await sale."
"We thank you for your gift of slavery, boy. How will you serve your owners?"
"With complete devotion and with every skill and capability I possess, mistress."
"Good boy. You, slave KF-M-3. Stand and show the class your cock cage. Describe it to us. Explain why you wear it."
I shot up out of my seat. "Mistress, this is my cock cage. It is made of unbreakable diamond metal with a lock that I may not remove. It is a size 3, small medium, considered one of the ideal sizes for slim, boyish slaves like me. It is bright pink with a satin bow. I wear it because my body is not my property, and as a symbol of my submission to female authority. I wear it so that my owner may control my sexuality."
There was a tense moment when I wondered if I'd forgotten anything, but the instructor told me my answer was satisfactory and had me sit down again. Whenever any of us got an answer wrong, we were spanked or flogged while we recited the correct response. This process went on all day, until we each could recite all the core concepts of slavery. I had a sore bottom and my nipples stung from the clamps the instructor had savagely tightened on to them when I displeased her, but I understood my position a little better now.
I had been taught that people divided naturally into owned and owners. Only women were capable of owning, of shaping and caring for a slave, getting the best contribution out of them that the slave could give. I understood that my slave nature was to be nurtured, grown and allowed to bloom in all its glory. Every time I believed one of the concepts a little more strongly, my control nanites sensed it somehow. By the end of the day, I was swept over with waves of slave bliss whenever I surrendered in my mind.
That night I was put into a sleeping cage with Desiderata, the plummy redhead who wanted to be a ponygirl. She seemed anxious to talk while she still had a human voice.
"I want so much for them to get me into harness. Ponygirls really are the most elegant and beautiful creatures. I think it's silly that someone like me should have to do basic slave training at all, don't you?"
"Miss," I said carefully, "I am a slave and it is not my place to judge how my owners train me."
"Well that's fine for a simple male like you, but I'm from better stock. I don't know why my mother's friend hasn't come yet to buy me out, but I'm sure they will soon. I'll ask them to sort this all out for me. I'm sure they can negotiate to accelerate my training. Ugh, it's so infuriating. What do you think we'll do tomorrow?"
"Whatever our owners order, miss."
"They've done a real number on you, haven't they? Yesterday you were just here because you had to be. You must have really wanted this deep down for them to get you on board so quickly. Ah well, if that's who you are, who am I to judge? Now hold me so we can go to sleep."
"Of course, miss," I said. The guards switched our nanites to sleep mode soon after.
***********
After another three days of drilling in slave concepts, they put us through an assessment and sorted us into practical training groups. By far the most common group was pleasure and service slaves. Maya, myself, Slave AF-M-4 and Pearl were all put into this set, along with a few dozen other slaves. The enslavement centre weren't much interested in my hydroponic skills; too niche for them to make much money off. They told me not to let it worry my pretty little head; I would make a much better fucktoy. I accepted their decision without rancour. They were my owners, after all.
A handful of the slaves were chosen to be petmales and petgirls. Some had volunteered with that in mind, but a few were truly shocked. They would spend their entire terms living on all-fours, robbed of the power of human speech by nanite surgery on their vocal cords; to be reversed when their term ended.
We were made to watch as they were reduced to their new status. Their hands were placed in strong mitts, rendering them useless, and their leg muscles relaxed so they couldn't stand. Each had a whippy tail attached to their lower back, and then they were led away to the pet training areas. I saw them every so often, begging, rolling over, fetching, fucking like animals. I knew one of them was a ten-year termer; he would be so altered by the experience that I had no doubt he would stay that way forever.
The ponygirls and ponyboys were chosen next. Desiderata was among them. She whinnied in such a sweet, high tone when they changed her vocal cords. They were locked like that for her period of slavery, heavy encryption preventing any reversal. Like all the others, she was fitted with long black pony boots, ending in a hoof. Her swishy tail was anchored near her arse, attaching itself to her nerve endings and becoming a part of her. They put her hands in mitts made to look like hooves, then shaved most of her head to give her a mane.
Her perky nipples were pierced through with gold rings – oh how she shrieked. Another ring was forced through her septum with a loud crunch, and then her head was fitted with a bit, bridle and blinders, but only after they roughly removed four of her teeth so the bridle could sit in her mouth. There was fear in her eyes as her desires became a reality. The helplessness of it seemed to be too much for her, and she lost her prim composure and became flighty. Spotting this, her new handler hobbled her legs on a sixty centimetre chain, then cinched her reins to a stout metal ring anchored in the ground. Desi's mitted hands could do nothing about the simple bondage.
The last touch required three handlers to each human pony. A piercing gun was brought out and two handlers held the pony's legs in place. With their genitals unlocked from their cages and belts, the handlers pierced the new ponies with a series of rings. The males were given a ring through the perineum and a ring through the tip of the penis, while the ponygirls got one ring each through their labia, and one through their clit. A simple clip joined the rings together – pony hooves were incapable of unhooking it.
While the new ponyboys and ponygirls were being prepped, some of the training centre's own, well-trained, mares and stallions were brought out, one to each new pony. As was usual, their arms were bound behind their backs and they were led on long leashes. The males had their cocks freed from the ring locks, and the females had strapless dildos thrust inside them, then all had lube applied. Each was brought to the rear of a new pony of the opposite gender.
The stallions and mares had their phalluses lined up to each new pony's arse, then they were given a single command. Each thrust forward, penetrating the new ponies deeply. From the look on Desiderata's face, I'd say it was the first time anyone had ever taken her that way. The stallion and mares fucked until they came, not caring about the neighs and whinnies of protest from their helpless fellow ponies. Desiderata was led away with the others to the stables, cum dripping down her legs. She had been animalised in a way she'd never even known possible. She seemed to take to it pretty well, though.
We were next. Each of us was made to stick out our tongues and receive a set of piercings along its length, designed to maximise female pleasure. Our nipples were pierced with rings, but the males among us didn't have our cocks pierced. That was up to our ultimate owners. That was all that was needed for us; service slaves don't have complicated procedures. We get altered through training. I felt my new tongue piercing and a surge of submissiveness washed over me. I couldn't wait to use it to lap at the clit of my owner, her friends, anyone I was ordered to use it on. Just thinking about it got my caged cock thrusting hard against its enclosure. They'd turned me into quite the eager little pussy slut.
All I get when I try to recall the rest of my training is flashes, images and feelings of what it was like to be broken down and stripped of resistance. I never stood a chance against hundreds of years of slave psychology and the constant rewards for obedience doled out by my control nanites. After two weeks I thought nothing of crawling in the presence of my superiors, kissing their feet and begging them sweetly for every little thing – food, water, the chance to give them yet another orgasm while never being allowed one myself.
I started looking in the mirror with pride. Why not be barcoded and tattooed if it could make me happy? I'd never had less to worry about. I just barely restrained myself from extending my contract right then and there. The moment of temptation passed, but I resolved to guard against any further spasms of slavery. I was there to clear a debt, wasn't I?
*****
My buyout price was set at five thousand credits, payable at once. It was a fair amount of money for three months of slavery, and I was proud to be highly valued. I wanted fervently to make my trainers happy, to please them by selling my cute body into bondage. I stood in the middle of the sumptuously appointed vending room, a long chain locking my collar to the wall. My hopes were tempered with fear – what if my owner was cruel? It was an unslavelike thought and it made me ashamed.
Women of all shapes and sizes milled through the grand hall, appraising all fifty slaves on sale. Slave AF-M-4 was causing all manner of excitement. He had an extremely high buyout price. Everyone who ran their hands over his well-trained and responsive body knew that if they bought him now, he'd essentially become theirs for life. Rich women from far and wide looked him over, pulling out his tongue and fingering his tight hole. He trembled with passion at every touch.
I was startled back to attention by a trio of trim, middle-aged women who were especially interested in my well-toned backside. They pushed me forward, bending me at the middle, and took turns sticking a finger inside me.
"He's so tight!" said one.
"It's programmable, you know," said the second.
"We could even keep him that way. It'd be like taking his virginity every time!" said the third.
"Oh, no, look at the label. Just a three-monther. Surprising, really – you can tell he's totally enslaved," said the first.
"Shame. Let's keep looking – we agreed twelve months minimum. See you later, KF-M-3."
I kept silent as they left, under strict orders to answer only direct questions. A little way around the room, Desiderata, in full pony gear, was being looked over by a great many women. She had perfect poise, sleek oiled skin, a bright red mane, and now red leather pony gear to match. She was the most peerless ponygirl I have ever seen, after just two weeks of training.
An argument was happening between two women who stood in front of her. The taller of the two looked so much like Desiderata that I thought she must have been her mother; the shorter was an obvious equestrian, decked out in riding gear.
"But you agreed to buy her!" shouted the mother.
"Not for this price!" said the equestrian. "Who ever heard of a 20,000 credit buyout for a ponygirl on a six-month contract?"
"Look at her. Perfection itself. She's worth every cent."
"You buy her, then."
"You know full well I can't – it'd be breaking the law. Why don't I give you half and you buy her?"
"Unacceptable. My property has to be mine, completely. I'd never be able to train her if I knew she was half someone else's. We'd never be in sync."
"But she wouldn't be, she'd be yours completely..."
My attention was ripped away by a short, pale-skinned blonde girl tweaking my nipples. She looked the same age I looked. It couldn't have been long since she'd joined the adult world – nineteen, it turned out. She wore a pleated skirt, white socks and leather flats, but went topless, her small pert breasts proudly on display. To my rear, a fuller-dressed and equally petite girl of asian descent was squeezing my bottom. They looked strangely similar, almost identical.
"Mummy," asked the blonde to the curvy, olive-skinned woman with them, "what do you think of this one? He's so cute!"
"I'd love to screw this arse," said the asian girl from behind me, "it's tight as hell."
"Let's have a look at his profile together," said the older woman.
The three of them huddled around the tablet she carried. I studied their faces – clearly a family, but the mother must have mixed some genes to make the almost-twins just a little different. They clicked through my profile at their leisure – it listed my sexual skills, previous employment, desires and turn-ons, and all my training to date, plus my scores. I'd been subjected to truth drugs and revealed some truly submissive desires; all in my public slave profile now. The mother nodded approvingly.
"Funny him only being three months," she said, "the buyout price won't cover those debts."
I was shocked. What could she be talking about. Covering those debts was the whole reason I was here, wasn't it? Was it? Anymore? I opened my mouth to ask a question but thought better of it. If I absolutely had to ask something, I had been ordered to do so through a trainer. Raising my hand, one came over quickly.
"What is it, slave?" she asked simply.
"Mistress, I have overheard that my buyout won't cover my debts. Please, I'm confused. I need those debts covered – three months should have been just enough."
"Hush, cutie, let me check on my tablet." She stood next to me, her propietorial hand on my cock cage, "Hmmm... Looks like it would have been enough when you signed up. But, let's see. Additional fine for failure to notify the city that your housing unit had become unoccupied, plus interest on two of your behaviour fines, which gets added once a year. Sorry, slave, your total fine's gone up. Nothing you can do about it. Currently you have no legal rights to make payment anyway."
I was stunned. I hadn't realised I would have to wind up my affairs myself before I even volunteered to be a slave. Naively, I'd just assumed the enslavement centre would do it all for me. It seemed so obvious now. As for the interest, I never even realised my debts would grow over time. It seemed obscene to charge me interest for breaching male behaviour standards that no one could even explain to me.
"Wh... what can I do, mistress?"
"Well, slave, the next contract length up is six months. Seems to me like you either have to extend, which adds fifty percent to the buyout cost, or you have to finish with debt. Can't say I'd recommend it, though – if you don't pay it off now, I'm sure there'll be interest on some of these other fines soon."
What could I do? The extra three months were a blow, but I could stay free in my mind for that long. From what I'd read, it took at least two years for a mind to break completely to slavery, though none of that literature had ever mentioned the control nanites I'd been infused with. Still, you could last even longer if you were strong willed. I felt a surge of shame – these weren't slavelike thoughts. I should be completely devoted to my owners, no matter how short my contract. A wave of euphoria washed over me – the control nanites again. I agreed to extend right on the spot.
"What do you think, girls? Six months means you can share him for your whole trip around the world. You might get attached to him, though. It's a real wrench when you have to say goodbye to a fucktoy that's become like an extension of your own body. Until you've trained a new one it's never the same."
"I can do it!" said the blonde. "And anyway, I might hire some girls as we travel for a bit of variety. I won't get attached." She bit her lip and looked me over fucking me with her eyes, "I hope, anyway."
"I'm attached already," said the asian girl, standing behind me and wrapping her arms around me, letting her hand fall to my cock. "If I treat him nice, maybe he'll be mine forever."
"You're far too soft on them, Eve. Spare the rod, spoil the slave," said the blonde.
"There's nothing wrong with treating a slave gently, Hailey," replied her sister, "they can't resist you then."
"They can't resist when it'll cost them a caning, either. You can stroke him tenderly when it's your turn to have him."
"Well you better not damage him for when I do!" she spat back.
"Daughters!" snapped their mother, "Your trip is a chance to show me how you've learned to work together in harmony. How can you train to take over our company if you can't function as a pair?"
"Sorry," they said together.
"Yes, well, try to get on. So, am I buying this boy for you?"
Blonde Hailey and her asian sister Eve nodded, their small breasts jiggling just a little. Their mother thumbprinted my collar, and transferred my ownership jointly to her two daughters. Just like that, I belonged to two nineteen year old girls. They were presented with a paper copy – a certificate of ownership, official and stamped. I could feel my cock growing inside its cage. Hailey took a coin from her handbag.
"Flip you for who gets to fuck him first?" she said.
"OK!"
"Heads, I win. Here it goes. YES! My pink glittery strapon has a date with your sweet arse, slaveboy. Oh, don't look so down, Eve, I'll have him lick you at the same time. He does belong to both of us, after all."
