Bought or Rescued? Pt. 01

He took me at my word: after a couple of rounds of switching between my mouth and pussy, he finished deep in my ass and gutturally screamed his domination of me.

I'm truly ashamed now to admit how unbearably aroused I got calling him Daddy that night. Knowing my own father will read this account is excruciating, but, dear reader, I had promised you honesty.

***

The following week we played together a couple more times. On what turned out to be our last night together, he wanted to push the bondage elements further. He'd made everything so fun previously that I readily agreed.

He ordered me to strip and then produced a metal bar with four cuffs attached. He made me kneel on the bed and locked my ankles to the outer cuffs. He brought my hands between my legs and locked my wrists to the two inner cuffs.

My arms now held my legs apart with my body face down on the bed and ass high. Slick started running down the inside of my thigh from my intense arousal.

"Someone's eager for what's coming next."

I grinned at him, "I hope I will get ploughed hard and orgasm harder."

"One last touch, I think."

He fixed a posture collar to my neck and a ring gag in my mouth, closing the straps tightly behind me. I got annoyed when he quickly checked his cellphone but rapidly forgave him when he started tormenting me. Teasing me with scratches, flicks, tweaks, and kisses all over my body. I was at a fever pitch when the door I thought he had locked opened. I panicked. I was completely naked and fully exposed to whoever walked in.

The posture collar prevented me from turning my head, but I recognised the voice instantly as Professor Philip Beckett's. I thought he must want to talk to his TA. His next words imploded my whole world.

"Good job Andrew. The judge read the carefully selected extracts of the essays I made her write, watched the video of her bondage session calling you Daddy, and then watched tonight over the video link. He's signed the enslavement order based on her self-enslavement to a dominant man. You haven't used her yet, have you?"

"No, Sir, I left her clean and ready for you as specified. However, I want one final ride before the worthless slut is carted away."

The bastard! He'd been filming our sexual encounters and showing them to other people. This entire relationship was a fraud; I'd been set up. I couldn't believe how he'd gone from loving boyfriend to cold sadist in seconds.

I was in a complete panic now; I squirmed but was trapped immovably. I tried to yell, but posture collar and gag made it impossible. My heart was going a million miles an hour, pounding in my ears.

Philip sat on the edge of the bed. "This is the last evening anyone will ever use your name, Rachel. You will no longer be human by morning, and only humans have names. Rachel, let's face it, you were born to be a fuck toy for men to use; you just didn't realise it. Think of this as kindness. We are helping you find your true self as a sex slave."

I shivered uncontrollably as he ran his hands over my body before flipping me over so my ankles and wrists were in the air and my butt on the edge of the bed.

"One of the perks of my job is sex with newly enslaved students before they are taken away for processing." He laughed, "On top of that, for a slave-hot European slut like you, my cut of your sale price will pay for us to take our 18-year-old daughter to Aspen for a ski vacation in February."

He stared at me like a hungry predator as he unzipped his pants. "I love looking into a newly enslaved girl's face as the horror of being trapped as a perpetual sex toy for men dawns on them."

He positioned his cock along my slit and rubbed it up and down to get fully hard. Without warning, he rammed into me, plunging balls deep in a single thrust. He hit my cervix so hard I wanted to scream but couldn't. His cock was longer and thinner than Andrew's, but his violent penetration of my pussy still seared me with heat. My body had already betrayed me by getting so wet for Andrew; I was at his mercy.

He continued hammering me, focused exclusively on his own pleasure. In seconds he'd reduced a proud young feminist to being a hot wet hole for him to self-pleasure his cock in. He pulled out and picked me up. Andrew lay sideways on the bed before Philip lowered my pussy over his cock. I realised too late that my rosebud was now pointing at him.

"You didn't stretch her back here, did you?"

"No, Professor, she had an enema, but you asked me not to stretch her."

He worked some KY into my hole, telling me that, sadly, there were strict limits on how much damage he could inflict on unsold merchandise. He stretched me first with one finger, then two fingers, working the KY deep into my back passage. He lined his cock, still dripping with my juices, at my rosebud and rammed me repeatedly; within too few thrusts, he was balls deep in my ass. He gave me no respite to get used to him.

Despite the gag, I screamed. With Andrew hammering me from below and my ass on fire with being brutally violated, I whimpered and thought about death.

They soon found a rhythm they both liked as they DP'ed me. My body betrayed me again as I felt Andrew start to bring me to orgasm. I shook my body, trying to get it back into submission. I desperately didn't want to give him the satisfaction of me cumming as a slave, but I was so used to Andrew that my pussy refused to cooperate. I fought it every step of the way, but the heat built between my legs as Andrew knew exactly what I needed. He laughed at me, "Go on slut. Cum for me. Admit what you've always known is true. You are just a fuck toy and get off on it."

They both started mocking my feminist ideals as I couldn't stop the oncoming freight train of a full-blown orgasm. Infuriatingly the humiliation of being mocked drove my arousal to greater intensity.

Finally, it crashed over me, waves of pleasure mixed with the burning pain of my ass being violated. I sobbed as the waves of pleasure eased. I was sobbing, first, at the thought that I'd betrayed all women by climaxing from being violated and then in terror of what was to become of me.

After they withdrew from my body, a bailiff came in and started collecting all my possessions into a black trash bag. Philip explained that Rachel would be legally dead by morning and her former possessions incinerated to remove all trace of her existence here. My parents would be sent my death certificate and an urn with the ashes of my possessions; they would be told they were my ashes. I realised that no one would come looking for me if they believed I was dead.

Another bailiff picked me up, still attached to the spreader bar, "Professor, I assume this one goes straight to slave intake?"

"No, we have a surprise for her first. Take her to 1992 Alexander Avenue and wait there. After they bring her back out, take her to intake."

***

I was unceremoniously dumped naked in the back of a pickup truck. We drove for a while before I heard the car stop. The back of the truck-bed opened, and two men lifted me out and carried me into the house. I hung from the bar helpless, not even trying to fight. The earlier violation had taken everything from me.

I was carried upstairs, dumped face down on a bed, and left in the dark. I lost track of time before the door creaked open. The hallway light must have been turned off as no light came in. I had no idea who this was or what was about to happen.

Male hands ran over my body, caressing my ass, pulling my cheeks apart and running a finger through the drying jizz that had leaked. The unknown hand slipped down and fingered my still wet pussy. I heard him remove them and sniff.

He pushed his fingers through the ring gag, "Lick," he said so softly I couldn't place the voice. He returned with a leather blindfold which he fastened firmly behind my head. I heard the light turn on before he flipped me over. He ran his hands over my boobs and toyed with my nipples. My terror, combined with the tenderness of his touch, made me shiver and arch my back.

"Hmmm, you really are quite the little slut aren't you, Rachel?"

I still couldn't place the voice. The mystery man laughed at my questing sightlessness.

"You still don't know who I am, do you?" I shook my head. "Pity they made such a mess of your beautiful body. Still, it was too much to expect Philip to leave you clean for me."

He released my hands from the spreader bar and let me stretch my arms and rub my wrists. He also undid my gag but firmly warned me to silence.

He lay on top of me as I tried hard not to fight and make things worse. He tenderly kissed my breasts and then slowly kissed up to my neck. His mouth found mine, and his tongue pushed inside. I parted him to let him. So far, he was gentle, and I didn't want to anger him. I was desperate to avoid being subjected to more violence tonight.

He turned out to be a skillful kisser causing me to abandon fear and kiss him back in a way I hoped might make him want to save me. I started to allow myself to enjoy the sensual caresses.

"I'm sorry I can't go down on you, Rachel. Philip left quite a mess down there, and we don't have time for you to shower and clean up. However, I know your mouth is still clean. If you try to bite me, the consequences will be severe."

Trying to get his help, I played the eager lover, "I would never bite you, you are being so gentle, and you are my only hope. I will do everything you ask. All I ask in return is for you to find a way to get a message to my parents."

"Maybe," he sighed.

I felt his cock probe the entrance of my mouth as I reached out to lick his manhood. He seemed average in size: 5" long and 2" round. Typical of most guys I'd dated.

He pushed into my mouth as I brought my hands up to caress his shaved balls. He lifted his balls higher to let me lick and suck them. I made eager noises as part of my hoped-for plea deal.

He lifted me up and sat me on the edge of the bed. I felt his cock in my mouth again before he gripped my head and pushed deeper into my mouth. He started throat-fucking me. Unlike Andrew, he was still gentle, allowing me to play with his cock with my tongue and try every trick I knew to make him enjoy it.

As he withdrew to let me get a breath, I offered, "I'm ready for you now; please fill me up and let me feel your manhood inside me."

He laughed. I heard him rolling a condom on.

"My wife would never forgive me if I gave her an STD, so better safe than sorry."

He slid gently into my sore pussy and stroked my face. I nestled my head against his hand and made appreciative noises.

His thrusting picked up in speed, so I humped him back: meeting each thrust with my uplifted hips. I could hear him start enjoying it as he said little nothings into my ear. "That's it, my love, hmmm, just like that, oh fuck, you feel good. I'm going to miss you after tonight."

"You could always keep me for yourself," I asked hopefully.

"Maybe. It certainly would be sweet."

"Mystery lover, let me cum with you." I twisted my hips to get the stimulation I needed and managed to time my orgasm to match his. The feeling of his pulsing cock pushing me over the edge as our bodies joined in momentary bliss.

I caressed his head and murmured my thanks for him being so skillful. I had truly enjoyed having him as a lover.

"You still don't know who I am?"

I shook my head.

He removed my blindfold. I gasped. It was Dan Richards, the American Professor from Rhodes House.

He smirked, "You still haven't put it all together, have you?" I looked blankly at him in confusion.

"I earn far more as a talent scout for the slave industry than I ever will as a tenured Professor at Oxford. You are just one of many vulnerable young women with parents too poor to protect them that I've sent into slavery. "

"But," I stuttered, "why are you here, not in Oxford?"

"Oh, Rachel, you are my best recruit yet. I would never be able to afford a slave-hot little slut like you. You are natural model material, and I wouldn't be surprised if one of the big fashion houses bought you as a slave model to service their A-list talent. I worked with Philip to time my visit here with your enslavement so I could enjoy you before sending you on to intake."

"What? No! Why? We just made love, and you enjoyed it. Will you let my parents know where I am?"

Yes, dear reader, I realise that my garbled response made little sense, but my mind was fragmenting.

"You really are naïve. Unlike Philip's callous sadism, I get a much more enjoyable ride by giving slaves the false hope that I will be their white knight and rescue them. However, as you did cooperate nicely, I will let you quickly shower and clean up. I also advise you to pee. You may not get another opportunity for a while."

He called his servants back in and ordered them to devox me, supervise me showering, and take me out to the car. I did appreciate the small mercy when he told them they were not to enjoy my body.

Dear reader, if you are unfamiliar with devox, it is an aerosol paralytic agent that targets only the vocal cords. It is widely used in the slave industry to make the slaves' utter helplessness apparent. The antidote must be given within a few hours to avoid long term damage.

The rest of the evening was a blur. I was taken to a centre to be tattooed with my slave number UK-08542-1175. I realised the first number was Princeton's zip code. I wondered idly whether the first number meant I was the 1,175^th student enslaved at Princeton.

The most painful moment was when I was told I was no longer legally human but was now classed as a humanoid named Slut-1175. Being reclassed meant I was no longer protected by the US Constitution, no longer had access to the court system or legal representation, and no longer had access to human medical facilities. Any medical treatment I required would be coming from a specialist vet.

I had always survived on my verbal skills; being devoxed was the most terrifying aspect of the process. The sheer powerlessness of being robbed of any ability to communicate was devastating. I felt like I'd been reduced to a mere animal. Then I quickly felt awful thinking of what mute or aphasic people dealt with every day. They were still fully human, so I was too. I clung to the solace I found in their lives.

I was given the antidote to devox and finally fell asleep gagged, handcuffed, and padlocked into a large dog crate.

***

Dawn was breaking when the pallet holding our crates was unloaded from the cargo plane and placed on the back of a flatbed. I saw a sign saying, "Welcome to Savannah, Georgia." As the truck pulled off the main road, I grimaced as I recognised the Wormsloe Historic site. How ironic that my slave auction would be on an old slave plantation. Georgia had never given up on its claim of the state's right to own slaves.

I'm not going to repeat the process of being injected with hormones to keep me perpetually aroused, photographed in the obscenest positions, taught slave positions and slave mantras. You can read many excellent first-hand accounts if you search for the tag 'Legal Slavery.'

I was grateful the staff here were not allowed to use anything except our mouths for their pleasure, a pleasure they made liberal use of. After a period of gnawing hunger, I even became grateful for a bowl of slave kibble. I was graded Prime, like a side of USDA beef. My ear was tagged with a piece of plastic, like those I'd seen on British livestock. My ear tag had the Union Jack on it and my slave number.

After two full days of processing, cataloguing for the sale brochure, and slave training, the auction the following day was a blur. I was devoxed and chained spread-eagled naked for an hour as prospective buyers felt me up before my wrangler led me leashed to the auction block.

She cracked a whip and ran me through my barely memorised slave positions. She made me beg the audience to buy me and fuck me. My pussy visibly dripped slick from the hormone injections; mine simply joined the ever-growing sticky puddle from the previously auctioned girls.

The auctioneer mocked my liberal Oxford education and told them my strong feminist ideals would make it enormous fun to break me to their will. I sold for $450,000. That's it. A human life reduced to a price tag. I wept.

***

I was led out and left standing at a rail with my handcuffed wrists supported above my head. I have no way of knowing how long I was there before I heard men's voices in a fierce argument. I struggled to focus on what they were saying.

"Prince Fatyan was adamant the slut is not to be branded. He has a special brand for his harem and will be furious if he sees any other markings on her body. The moment that gavel fell, she became his property. He will not tolerate any man touching his property sexually or marking his property. He has the power to have any of you euthanised if you disobey. We want Slut-1175 out on the shipping dock immediately as his private jet is standing by."

The shouting brought a supervisor who got a manager. As soon as the manager realised the slut in question had been bought by Prince Fatyan, he ordered his men to do exactly as they were told, explaining this customer was too important to antagonise. He reminded them that the prince bought at least one and sometimes several Prime grade girls every month.

He also told them the prince euthanised one or more every month, so he always had exactly 50 women available. The head of this auction house had been invited to UAE and been shown the prince's legendary harem of prime girls but threatened with death if he touched or photographed them.

I listened to this in growing terror. I was being shipped to a middle eastern prince's harem and would be euthanised as soon as the prince felt I'd outlived his sexual appreciation. I knew being taken to the Middle East meant that even if my parents found out where I was, the British government would be unable to rescue me. Unable to process all that was happening, my mind retreated and shut down.

***

I remember very little of how I got to his private jet. I do remember what happened when I got there. The driver unloaded my crate and demanded his slave kiss as compensation. Dear reader, this means a blowjob if you are unfamiliar with the term and was regarded as the right of all slave wranglers. I realised that, just as the prince's men had said, I'd not had to give a single handler a slave kiss since the gavel had fallen.

The men who'd collected me after the auction drew guns on him. He was ordered to devox me, return slowly to his truck, and drive away. The men holstered their weapons and carried my crate up into the main lounge of the business jet. I found myself looking around the inside of a fabulous luxury private jet in awe. Maybe the final four years of life would be spent in relative luxury?

The men climbed in and shut the door.

"Slut, do you need to pee? It will be a long flight. The prince will be furious if you get urine on his carpet."

They let me out to pee, gave me a small cup of water, backed me back into the crate, and relocked it. The plane started taxiing before the two men had even strapped in. A woman came into my line of sight from the direction of the cabin.

"So, this is his latest sex slave? Poor little thing. She looks frightened and bedraggled. Are you sure she got a Prime rating?"

"Yeah, she looked much better during the appraisal before the auction. You know how it is; the auction process is rough on those who didn't grow up in this country. His staff will spend a week cleaning her up, pampering her hair and skin, and teaching her instant obedience. If she pleases him on her first night, she may get to live the full four years. Otherwise, those that fail on the first night are given to his bodyguards to be violated."