Slave Academy Ch. 06

Ch. 06: A Final Polish

After Master Marco uses me and leaves, I lie on my bed looking at the bars of my cell. Soon these will be exchanged for a different cell, or whatever other means of keeping me secure, in my new owner's home or place of business.

In these last weeks before my sale, I am being conditioned to the highest levels of response, and now that I've been broken, I am eager to perform and please. Now potential buyers come to take a look at me, and particularly favored ones are given the chance to fuck me. I enjoy this tremendously, of course, and am always excited to be used by them; you can learn a lot from men who are just regular customers or masters, not slavehouse personnel.

One of these comes to inspect me the very next day. As the door to the outer hall opens, I go to my knees at once. Two men come in, one a very rigorous slave captain called Master Dion, who has used me many times and who has a very engaging and humorous attitude, who's been charged with the task of bringing back my spirit and with whom I've had many fun talks, the other... In one quick glimpse before I lower my eyes in obedience I see that he is very tall, very powerfully built, and very black. In fact, he's gorgeous...

Of course over the weeks of my training I've been used by men of all races, shapes and sizes, to get me accustomed to differences and learn how to accommodate them, so the mere fact of his blackness is not even an issue or surprise. What is so arousing is the air of command he brings with him: different from the air of a slave captain or even Master Marco himself. This is a man who is used to buying women and enjoys using them. Well, that's fine by me...all my slavery comes instantly into play.

Master Dion orders me to rise and display myself for inspection. I stand immediately, feet spread to shoulder width, my hands locked behind my head, chin up, eyes down. The buyer begins by tilting my chin up and smiling at me, which is unusual in itself, and I can't help but smiling back tremulously. He's beautiful!

Then he proceeds to run his hands all over my naked body, as though I were a promising filly he was thinking of buying...which I guess is just about right. He strokes my thighs and ass, weighs each breast in his hand, parts my pussy lips and inserts a finger in me to judge the depth and tightness of my cunt. I'm juicing already, and he smiles again as he notices this.

Finally he's done, and turns to Master Dion, who has been watching the proceedings, proud that I'm doing so well in my first inspection by someone outside the slavehouse. "I'd like to try her out," he says in a deep, well-educated voice, whose charming accent I can't place.

Master Dion nods. "Take her as you please, but I have to remain to watch."

"Not a problem." The buyer snaps his fingers and points to the floor, and I go to my knees in front of him. He unzips his pants and lets my eager fingers bring his cock out. It's magnificent, like a thick bar of very tasty chocolate. He's so tall that I have to stretch to reach my mouth to it, but he grabs my hair and pulls me higher. I start licking his cock, flicking my tongue along its length, one arm around his legs to support myself.

He stiffens under my tongue and lips, and I open wide to take him all in. He puts a hand around the back of my neck and pushes my head onto his huge log, filling my mouth, pressing my tongue down. But I've been taught how to do this, and I don't gag as he begins to slide down my throat.

Moving his hips forward, he pushes my face closer to him at the same time, his balls right against my nose; he smells clean and warm and very male, and I give up all control to him as he fucks my face with long, smooth, steady strokes. But he doesn't come, and I look up at him anxiously: am I not pleasing him?

He laughs and pulls out of my mouth. "Don't worry, pretty slut, you did just fine. But I want to come in that hot little body." Again he snaps his fingers and points to the bed this time, and I instantly assume the position for use: on my back, legs spread wide, one knee bent, arms above my head, head turned to the left. He studies me for a moment or two. "Very nice," he says finally, and massages his cock, still exposed and rock-hard.

Kicking off his shoes, he kneels on the bed between my legs. He's so big and tall I have to open my legs wider for him than I usually have to, but he taps my thigh and I obediently bend my knees and raise my legs, feet flat on the bed, and he settles into the saddle to begin the ride.

He's in no hurry, obviously he's tried slaves out before: he gently pushes my knees wider, grasps my ankles and slides my feet further up toward my hips. Again he runs his hands over my breasts and belly and smooth bare mound, tugging on my piercings, and I moan and draw in a shivering breath at his touch.

"Very responsive," he says to Master Dion, who smiles and nods. "Aren't you, slut?"

"I hope so, master," I say, with a little moaning gasp as he begins to move his fingers on and around my slit, then slips one fingertip under my clit hood and presses my little button, circling it, as it swells. I raise my hips to him instinctively, a submissive and enslaved female offering herself to a dominant mastering male, and he smiles approvingly. He begins to massage my clit and inner pussy lips, pressing harder with three fingers, slipping them into my cunt, which by now is soaking wet. I arch at the feeling of his fingers inside me, then he withdraws one and pushes it into my ass.

"Yes, you're a hot little piece of tail..." He pulls off his sweater to bare his chest, then he slips off his pants. God, he's beautiful: well-muscled chest, flat belly, and that magnificent thick cock even bigger and stiffer and harder than it was. I shiver at the thought that such a superb tool is soon going to be drilling me; he asks Master Dion for a gag, and fastens it over my mouth, which always makes me feel helpless and deliciously controlled, and then he flips me over onto my belly and reaches for the flogger that Master Dion hands him.

At the first stroke I almost come right there. Ever since my recapture, I've been well conditioned to the lash, and I respond now to being whipped far more than I ever did before. He jerks my head around by my long hair, to see each lash bite into my ass and the curve of my creamy, smooth back and the soft back of my thighs, and my pale skin first goes white then turns fiery red. He's an expert: in a very few strokes he's got me tingling, in a hot, spreading glow.

In my hazy warmth, I feel his cock head pushing at my ass entrance. He's going to take me there first, he's decided, and I feel the cool touch of wetness as Master Dion lubes me up for it. First I feel fingers in my ass, then his cock is back, sliding in, an inch at a time; he exclaims, pleased, at my tightness. Again he pulls my head around to look: it's a fine sight, his massive dick standing up black and proud out of me, where it's impaling my round white ass.

He drives all the way in, slowly, his thighs pressing against my butt cheeks, pushing his cock into me, and his hands come around to the front to cup my mound, holding me still for him. A couple of fingers tease the line of my dripping slit, then they slip inside. I can feel them moving in me, pressing against his cock in my ass, his thumb on my clit, and I push backwards against him, to get him even deeper, arching my back to give him better access to me. He doesn't take long to come, unloading into my insides and pulling out, and in almost no time he hardens up again.

Throwing me on my back, now he doesn't delay shoving into my pussy. He remains kneeling upright, pulling my hips up to him. I've been used in that position often before, and I very much like it: he slides me smoothly onto his dick, putting me on like a sock, and we can both see him entering me, which is an incredible turn-on. Once he's snugly fitted inside, filling my cunt completely, he takes a tighter hold of my hips and begins slow thrusting; both of us watch his cock disappearing in me, then pulling out again, shiny with my wetness. At each driving thrust of his hips, I moan a little behind the gag: I love the contrast between my creamy paleness and his beautiful ebony color, the way his black shaft looks as it slides in and out of my swelling pink pussy lips, the way those lips look as they're spread apart by his thickness.

He's deep into me, stretching me, then he lies forward to put all his weight on me and pulls me close to him against his chest, clasping his strong arms under me, pinning my own arms against my sides. My legs are open as wide as they can get; once a woman is impaled like this, stuffed deep, there's no way for her to escape being used well and hard. Not that I want to escape, of course. He shifts forward a little, so that he's riding high on me, his pubic bone and the base of his cock hitting hard against my clit. This is the way I love to be fucked, more than any other: helpless under a man's weight and strength, his cock buried in me right up to his balls.

In full slave response now, my hips are rising and falling to meet his motion, locked close by his strength and the depth to which he's penetrating me. Our bellies slap together, then they're fused as close as they can get as we rock in rhythmic motion. He's talking in my ear, his tongue rimming it and flicking into my ear hole, filling it and blocking the sound, then biting my pierced lobe.

"You're a fine piece of fuckmeat, you must know that. How would you like being sold to a Mideast sheikh? Be part of his harem...one of my clients likes to buy Western women. You'd be well treated, live a life of luxury in total captivity, servicing him and his sons and guests." He thrusts sharply, heaving so hard my whole body moves up on the bed, and I moan. "Another client of mine is a Scottish laird, lives in a castle, he needs a new rape slave for his dungeon, and he likes them to be intelligent. Which I'm told you are. Would you enjoy that, slut?"

I can't speak because of the leather gag and strap that presses my lips together and keeps my jaw shut, but I moan, and he plunges deeper into me than before. We're rocking in unison, and I feel myself coming. Screaming behind the gag, my body goes rigid as my cunt explodes, and he drives into me one final enormous thrust and comes hard, flooding me with hot juice.

He lies relaxed on top of me, while my still-throbbing cunt begins to quiet down, then he pulls out of me and stands up, cleaning himself off with the soft towel Master Dion offers him. Leaning over, he uses the towel to soak up the juices puddling between my thighs and to blot the sweat off my belly and breasts, then he pinches my mound.

"That was quite a ride, little slut," he says, smiling, and kisses me on the navel. I shiver at the touch, and he laughs, turning to Master Dion. "I'll definitely be bidding on her, unless you'd consider an offer for her right now?"

Master Dion smiles at me. "Well done, animal," he says, and unstraps the gag. "Thank you, masters," I whisper. Master Dion slaps me on the thigh and looks at the buyer. "We can talk in the sales office, but I think we'll probably auction her off as planned."

They leave, and I'm left spent and exhausted on the bed, one hand idly stroking my hammered pussy. This scenario is repeated at least a dozen times in the next couple of weeks: buyers and agents, who've seen my presentation in the prospectus the slavehouse sent out and who've been interested enough to ask for a private viewing, coming to try me out. As Master Marco told me, such test-drives aren't permitted in the inspection immediately prior to the auction, so these men are here to sample me by appointment, and only a handful of favored buyers at that.

I do my best to perform as superbly as I can, of course. I want to be bought by the best master I can interest, and even the slave captains are impressed with my performances. But they decide to wait for the auction after all.

Which suits me fine. In the remaining weeks, I'm given a final polish, as Master Marco said: more dancing instruction, though I already move like a tiger; more rehearsing how to serve a master; a few more intensive training sessions with women, learning how to please if I should be bought by a mistress instead of a master, or if I'm purchased by a buyer who owns other female slaves or has a female companion who I'll be expected to service.

But I'm hoping for a truly strong master, and to be his only slave, held in perfect bondage. That would be the best outcome, and I look forward eagerly to being sold on the block. I'll do the best I can; that's all any slave can do...

To be continued, if masters and mistresses wish...