Allison's Descent into Slavery Pt. 06

"My plug feels fine right now and I know I can take a bigger one tomorrow," I continued.

"You may be a natural then," laughed Three, putting her arm around me.

"She is a natural hero. She saved me multiple times during that ass fucking this afternoon and I will always be grateful," said Lindsey, as she gave me a warm hug and kissed me on the cheek.

"Time to put you to bed and you can dream about anal," giggled Four taking Lindsey's hand.

Four and Three led us into the sleep room which had 50" by 75" futons along both walls. A few spaces had thin pads instead of futons and some futons had comforters and/or pillows. She led us to our futon with the numbers "27" & "28" over the pair of five foot chains attached to the walls at the head of the futons.

"Futons, comforters and pillows are all rewards for good behavior. You start with a futon and can either lose it or earn a comforter or pillow. Twenty-five and Twenty-six lost their futon and comforter so they will sleep on the pad. You must be chained every evening by 10:00 p.m. lights out or you get demerits," explained Three.

"Lights go on at 6:00 a.m. when your chain releases. You then have ten minutes to go to the bathroom and be in the dance studio kneeling on your number ready for slave yoga every morning. Slaves wear a sports bra for all physical activities unless instructed otherwise. Your bra is hanging on your number in the studio," advised Four.

"You will not be released to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night so make sure you go to the bathroom before going to bed every night. You can cuddle together for warmth if you are cold. Ask any of us any questions that you have and we will try to answer them. You are now part of our sisterhood here. A sisterhood that helps and supports each other while students here, as consorts and as free women. Good night, sisters," said Three.

Three and Four each kissed us both on the cheek and left us on our futon.

I was lying on my left side, arms around Lindsey, now Twenty-eight, our breasts pushing against each other and our legs intertwined. We looked each other in the eyes and I felt like I was being held by my best friend, a friend that I had not met until this morning and never had the opportunity to have a meaningful conversation with.

"Thank you, I never had a chance to thank you for; when those men butt-fucked us, I was losing it," she said, choking up tears forming in her eyes. "Something weird happened that I am still trying to understand."

"I saw. We survived it," I whispered back.

I wiped away the tears with my fingers and kissed her forehead giving her a reassuring hug. We held each other for a few minutes while she regained her composure.

"Cumming like I did when I was butt fucked begging to be spanked was so embarrassing. I do not know what got into me. All I know is that I am always horny. It happened once more with me asking Mistress Kara to whip me resulting in another incredible orgasm. I am so sorry to get you whipped a second time," I whispered.

"There was a part of me that actually enjoyed it. The second orgasm was more intense," chuckled Lindsey. "Part of me wanted to thank you for asking for more while I was still horrified at the prospect of another whipping."

"My pussy is always moist and tingly ever since I was slave naked wearing the collar for my grading," I confessed. "I had the most powerful orgasms of my life today and it really scares me."

"Did you cum on the auction block?" she asked.

"Yes, and it was the most intense one of the day, until that last one with Mistress Kara, followed by when I squirted on the pussy post, and the one when I was butt fucked while kissing you. I have never squirted before," I said in a soft voice. "I keep wondering what is so wrong with me that I am constantly aroused and having powerful climaxes as a slave."

"Mine on the auction block was my most powerful ever, I squirted and almost passed out," she sighed. "I have also been constantly horny since seeing you squirting on the pussy post. I am glad I am not alone, wondering what is wrong with me all day. This constant sexual arousal scares me."

"It frightens me, too. I am glad that I am in good company experiencing these weird sexual feelings," I murmured. Lindsey nodded in agreement and we held each other in silence.

"And now they will pierce our pussies to make us horny," Lindsey sighed. "I am already too aroused. My clit is extremely sensitive now, if it is touched I will cum instantly."

"How are we supposed to take more sexual stimulation?" I groaned softly.

We lay there in each other's arms, each lost in our own thoughts. I was running through today's events in my head wondering how I had ended up a slave laying in this girl's arms. Lindsey tensed, her face took on a thoughtful expression and looked like she had something important to share.

"Are you scared?" whispered Lindsey, turning serious as she changed the topic.

"Yes, I am terrified," I quietly replied.

"I am horrified, suddenly being a slave with no control over what is happening to me. Not knowing my future?" she complained.

My dread of my new status simmered under my arousal. Maybe part of my unusual level of arousal, my newfound slave heat, was fueled in part by the horror of becoming a slave. I recalled Natasha's story and advice which mirrored that of Mistress Johnson.

"While on display I listened to a former slave describe her terror of not knowing her fate. The sexual exhilaration of the Big D fueling her slave heat, squirting in the sand like us when she was sold. She survived her slavery," I said.

"How does that help us?" asked Lindsey.

"She said she was one of the lucky ones because she was sent here for training. She even talked about sending her daughter here," I explained.

"Who would send their own daughter here? This is a school for slaves," reminded Lindsey.

"Her daughter will be a slave when she comes here. Something about self-enslavement syndrome and a protective enslavement. It was weird," I tried to explain.

"What kind of mother makes her daughter a slave for her own good? Not buying it," replied Lindsey, with anger in her eyes. This was hitting close to home for her I thought.

"I know. Let me finish. She claimed that this place made her a stronger and a more poised woman. At some point she caught me listening to her conversation and confronted me. When I admitted to eavesdropping she was not upset. Instead, she told me that if I was lucky I would be sent here as well, saying this place saved her life. At Broadstone we will become part of an elite sisterhood she claimed. She had no reason to lie to me and she is sending her daughter here. Mistress Johnson told us we have a choice, agree to their terms and stay here or be sold," I continued.

"But this is not what I wanted for myself. I had a life with plans for the future," she stated, in an angry tone.

"Right. So did I. This woman gave me more advice, telling me as a slave I needed to make new dreams and make the most of the opportunities presented. It is exactly what Mistress Johnson told us. While I am scared and upset, I also believe we could be in a much worse situation. Right now I have a new friend and together we need to figure this out," I expounded, trying to placate her while boosting my own spirits.

"Your point being that if we are to be slaves. Broadstone is a good place to be?" she summarized.

"Right, this place just feels different in a good way. I do not know how to explain it. It just does," I answered.

"Ok then, we stick together, support each other, pick each other up when she is down and no matter what we never abandon the other no matter how hard the challenges. We get through this TOGETHER," Lindsey whispered fiercely.

"Deal," I whispered back as I moved in for a kiss. "I feel like I have known you forever and can trust you like no other friend I have ever had," I responded, yawning as exhaustion from today's ordeal overtook me.

"Same here, let's get some sleep, I'm exhausted too, we can talk more tomorrow," she responded snuggling in closer.

"Together," I whispered.

"Together," she replied with a kiss on my cheek and a hug as we snuggled together. I rolled over onto my right getting the pressure off my brand.

"Sorry," I whispered.

"Brand bothering you?" she asked, pulling me into her arms, snuggling. "I like this."

"Me too," I sighed, squeezing her hand.

I was now a slave, collared, chained to the wall, lying naked on a futon in the arms of another naked slave girl who I had just met today. Although I was scared and terrified I felt safe right now in Twenty-eight's arms as we cuddled together for warmth. I felt a love for her, not like I felt for Calum. It was a love of camaraderie, common purpose, friendship and trust. Yet, even now my cunt was tingling and wet. It had been that way ever since I put on the collar in the parking lot. Where is Amelia I wondered? What is happening to me? As I fell asleep my last thought was "What is wrong with me? What is causing me to constantly feel tingly and wet?"

(to be continued)

Addendum:

Most piercings and brandings take months to heal in the real world. For this story I have shortened the recovery time to put the girls back into play quicker.

For more information on the branding and promising ceremony at Broadstone please take a look at my overview of the slave society.