Sold In To Slavery Pt. 04

WARNING: this story contains depictions of extreme, non-consensual sexual slavery. Sick, twisted, incestuous debauchery lies directly ahead. And that's just the first three paragraphs! Please do NOT read on of you are offended by such content. If you do choose to continue reading, please remember that this is a work of fantabulous fiction. None of this shit should ever happen in real life to anyone. Ever.

*****

Summer tapped her mother on the back of the head impatiently.

"Hurry up, Mom. Pick up the pace. I need two more before Master gets down here," said the daughter urgently. "Why do you always lose focus when I do you first?" she added irritably.

The professor was lying on her stomach on the bed with her face between her daughter's legs. She was eating out her pussy for all she was worth. It had taken her longer than usual to coax out the first orgasm from the nineteen year-old girl and she still had two more to go before the seven o'clock deadline.

Their master called this their daily matins. Three orgasms each before breakfast every day. Tongues only. No fingers allowed.

The daughter had already made the mother cum three times using her well-trained tongue. She preferred being on her knees with her mother spread out before her on the edge of the bed. Summer was becoming quite the accomplished pussy-eater. It was hard to believe she had never been with a woman prior to getting captured.

Today was their sixth day of captivity.

"I'm sorry, honey," said the mother defensively. "It's just that my jaws still ache from last night. It took you forever to cum," she added peevishly.

The previous night, their master had ordered the slaves to achieve their first purely anal orgasms. They had been directed to make each other cum using only tongues in assholes. No vaginal or clitoral stimulation was permitted. The mother's tongue had been clumsy and tired. It had taken the daughter over two hours to finally achieve release.

The daughter reached down and grabbed her mother roughly by the pony tail. She jerked it upward, until their eyes met. The older woman's lips and chin were smeared with her daughter's juices.

"Don't blame me for your lazy tongue, old woman," said the Summer cooly. "As I recall, it only took me fifteen minutes to get you off last night."

"I know, sweetie," said the mother meekly. "I promise to do better, honey," she added smiling up at her daughter.

The daughter continued to look down into her mother's eyes. She gave her pony tail a rough shake.

"To be honest, I'm getting a little sick and tired of pulling all the weight around here," she continued. "I thought you said you dyked it up in college, but you certainly couldn't tell that from your performance. I'll tell you right now that I am not going to have my udders whipped again for missing matins. It's time for you to step it up and get me off or I'll tell Master you're starting to lose interest in your training."

The older woman's eyes widened in fear. Both slaves were under strict orders to report any lapses in enthusiasm. Neither of them had ever done so before, but now the mother was starting to question her own position. The tension between her and her daughter had been steadily increasing over the last few days. Clearly, the mother-daughter bond was starting to fray.

"That won't be necessary, honey," said the mother obsequiously as she patted her daughter's pussy lightly with the flat of her right hand. She leaned in and gave her bare vulva a big smootch, then batted her eye lashes coquettishly. "Do you want me to put my pinky in your ass? Sometimes that pushes you over the edge, right?"

"No, that won't work. Your tongue feels like a wet noodle. Flip over and I'll and grind it out," said the daughter petulantly.

The mother scrambled to comply, turning over on to her back and placing her hands docilely at her sides.

Summer sat up and swung her legs around in one smooth motion, sitting down roughly on the older woman's face.

"Let me feel that tongue," said Summer tersely, as she adjusted herself on the mouth beneath her. She reached down and twisted her mother's nipples roughly. Summer had discovered early on in their training that the older woman often needed a little extra prodding to quicken her tongue.

Her mother yelped and stiffened her tongue, pushing it deep into her daughter's vagina and flicking it rhythmically, the way she knew she liked.

"There it is. That's a good mommy," said the daughter soothingly. She released her mother's nipples and began to grind herself methodically against her face.

It was six-thirty in the morning. Both women had been awake since five. They had performed their daily ablutions and enemas and shaved each other meticulously. Then they had attended to each other's plugging.

The morning ass plugging was quickly becoming the most arduous part of their routine. Their future mistress wanted their asses stretched out for use in the brothels, so the man had been steadily increasing the size of the plugs he laid out for them each night. The process was made more difficult by the fact that they were forbidden to use lubrication other than their own secretions and saliva.

The slaves quickly realized the best way to work in the larger plugs was to soften their sphincters with a thorough rimming, working their tongues as deeply as possible in to each other's slackening orifices. Then the slave being plugged would stand and hold her ass cheeks apart as the other woman knelt behind her and gently twisted the large bulbous head in to place, licking around the rim of the anus for added lubrication as needed.

This morning, each slave wore a four inch butt plug, by far the largest yet. It had taken them fifteen minutes each to get them in.

Finally, after they were successfully plugged, each slave had done her hair and make-up the way master liked.

Now it was time to complete their matins.

The daughter looked down at her mother's body as she rode her tongue. Her breasts, belly and bare vulva were criss-crossed with red welts from the daily punishment sessions.

As she felt her orgasm steadily approaching, the daughter reached down and absently fondled her mother's engorged pussy with the fingers of her right hand. She played lazily with the labia, still fat with arousal following her recent orgasms. She noticed a shiny patina of moisture above the clit and leaned down and casually lapped it up. She felt herself quicken slightly at the familiar tangy taste.

Summer kept her hand pressed lightly against her mother's pussy. She shifted slightly on her perch, opening herself further to her mom's probing tongue. She felt a bubble of arousal rise and then trickle out of her pussy directly into the older woman's open mouth. Her mother swallowed greedily, moaning appreciatively into her sex, then began to rock her pelvis back and forth rhythmically against her daughter's hand.

Summer smiled thinly to herself. A week ago, her mother, Madeline Bennett, had been a happily married well-respected professor of economics. Now she was acting like an insatiable lesbian tart. Three orgasms in thirty minutes and still she wanted more. She supposed the woman couldn't help herself. Both slaves were being systematically trained to equate the taste of pussy with their own sexual fulfillment. Being forced to sixty-nine each other for hours at a time created quite a powerful circuit of operant conditioning. It was only natural that both women would eventually find themselves aroused by the mere scent or taste of the other.

Summer bucked up and down on her mother's tongue for a few more seconds until she felt the wave cresting, then let herself be pulled gently down the other side as her orgasm began to take her.

She had the presence of mind to hold up her right hand for the surveillance cameras with two fingers held up, indicating her second orgasm of the day. She knew her master would be keeping careful track when he reviewed the video feed.

It turned out to be a wet one.

She heard her mother sputter and slurp for a full minute as she tried to keep up with the flow.

When the older woman had recovered from the deluge and was breathing normally again beneath her, Summer leaned forward and gently took her mother's distended clit in to her mouth. She suckled it gently, for a few seconds, then began to to flick it rapidly with the tip of her tongue. Again, she felt a tingle of excitement as she savored the taste of her mother's essence.

Summer needed one more orgasm. They would rock this one out together. It would be quicker that way, anyway. Neither of them openly acknowledged it, but both women had developed a unique Pavlovian reflex: it was simply easier to cum with the taste of pussy in their mouths.

Five minutes later, they were done. They gently licked each other clean as they had been trained, then got out of bed.

Both women fixed their hair and touched up their make-up in the mirror above the sink. As they looked at their reflections, the slaves no longer took notice of the thick, steel collars locked around their necks. They were also now completely oblivious to their constant nudity. Neither woman had worn a stitch of clothing since being captured almost a week earlier.

When they were satisfied with their appearance, the slaves knelt on the floor by the foot of the bed and waited patiently to greet their master.

Each woman was lost in her own thoughts.

Tomorrow would be their last day in the hated cell. Their master had told them was he going to sedate them and pack them in to puppy crates for the three hour drive in the back of a truck to the port city of Ensenada. There, they would be placed aboard a container ship for the three-week sea voyage to Thailand where they would be delivered to the villa of their new owner, Mistress Mali.

Both slaves had vowed that they were not going to let that happen. They were going to fight.

"Tomorrow's the big day," whispered the mother quietly to her daughter. "Do you think we'll be able to do it?"

"Fucking-A we can do it, Mom," said the daughter resolutely. "Just try not fuck it up. Remember, when he puts it in your mouth, bite down hard until your teeth touch, then shake your head from side to side. Bite it off right at the root."

"Then we hold him down, right?" said the mother fiercely. "Don't forget that. If he makes it to the gate, we're dead."

"I know, Mom. Please. We've gone over this a hundred times. He's a dead man. It's happening tomorrow. I only hope he chooses me first," she said savagely. "I'm not just going to rip it off. I'm going to eat it. I'm going to make him watch me wolf it down before he dies."

The mother let the remark go. She shifted uncomfortably on her knees and studied her daughter out of the corner of her eye. Summer had been acting increasingly remote and hostile over last few days. She wondered if her daughter somehow blamed her for their predicament. Or maybe she was simply buckling under the strain. Trapped in a cage, with her life on the line, it was no surprise that Summer was acting more like a feral animal than a loving daughter.

The mother sighed and set the thought aside. It would all be over soon. She looked down at the floor and thought about the past week of training.

After their initial capture, things had quickly fallen in to a routine. The slaves would rise at five and clean, shave and plug themselves, then attend to their matins. Their master would bring down their breakfast at seven sharp.

They were being sold as pleasure slaves who would eventually end up in the brothels, so their training consisted of various exercises designed to improve their sexual performance and desirability. They were also physically punished to break down any resistance and instill obedience.

Mornings were spent on suck-training. The women learned to suck cock the way their master liked. They would start by licking and sucking his balls together, then they would take turns bobbing up and down on his nine-inch shaft, while the other slave alternated between licking his balls and rimming his ass. When he came, each slave was trained to hold the offering in her mouth until instructed to swallow it or share it in a kiss with her fellow slave.

The slaves spent at least one hour per day on their knees practicing their deep throat-skills on the cock-board. This was a wooden board affixed to the wall in the corner of the cell with six rubber cocks of increasing length and girth arranged horizontally at mouth height from left to right. The smallest cock was a slim six inches, the largest, ten inches and as thick as a can of soda. The smooth rubber surfaces of the dildos were discolored with age and pitted with innumerable bite marks from the dozens of slaves, male and female, who had used the board to train their throats over the years.

Mother and daughter were ordered to do ten laps on the cock-board per day before lunch. The object of the exercise was to learn to swallow the entire length of each phallus so that the slave's nose ended up pressed against the board. The cock was only counted as "passed" if the slave could hold this position, nose-to-board for one full minute, while breathing steadily through her nose.

The final lap of each day was graded carefully by their master. The winner received an extra slice of Bologna with lunch.

The loser had her udders whipped with a short quirt.

After lunch, it was time for hole-training. Both slaves were strapped to the matching breeding benches in the middle of the cell. These were broad, sturdy wooden horses covered with thick, black leather padding. They had adjustable knee-rests and arm-rests along the side equipped with leather cuffs. The slaves were placed face down on the bench, with their heads hanging off the front. The leather cuffs were buckled around the arms, wrists, legs and ankles. Thick leather straps were then cinched around the torso and the waist to secure the belly of each slave flat against the bench. A D-ring at the head of the horse was fitted win a short chain which was attached to the slave's collar.

The net effect was that each slave was effectively immobilized in the all-fours position with her mouth, anus and vagina at perfect cock-height for leisurely fucking in the standing position. The benches were arranged facing each other so both women were forced to watch each other being violated daily.

The man usually started with Summer. There was something about the look in the mother's eyes as she watched her daughter being mounted from behind that never failed to excite him. Hole-training consisted of the man fucking the slave's mouth, cunt and ass repeatedly. The slaves were taught to contract their cunts and tighten their anal sphincters rhythmically around the man's cock to enhance his pleasure. Sometimes he could go for a full hour before finishing in the slave's ass. When he was done, he would move on to the other woman who would suck him hard again.

When they weren't being used sexually by their master or practicing their oral skills on each other, the slaves were subjected to punishment training. They were methodically cropped, belted, spanked, flogged and paddled on their udders, cunts and asses. Their nipples and labia were clamped and stretched with heavy dangling weights, which they sometimes wore for hours at a time.

For the most part, the punishments inflicted were fairly low impact, designed to engender physical submission rather than to cause bodily harm. The intent was more psychological than corporal. The slaves simply needed to understand that it was now perfectly normal for them to be punished by another human being at any time for no reason.

When actual pain was required, the man used the five foot long single tail stock whip. Both slaves had had their breasts whipped on the first day of captivity with this whip and both slaves had gotten the message. They became obedient and enthusiastic students of their new trade. They would do anything to avoid tasting the "big whip" again. So far, they had been successful.

The mother was snapped out of her revelry by the familiar sound of a key turning in the lock of the heavy steel door set in to the far wall of the large anteroom outside their cell. Both slaves looked up in unison as the door swung open and their master stepped in to the room.

He was naked as usual and carrying a large breakfast tray. His gun metal gray hair was slicked back on his head from a recent shower. Both slaves eyed him warily through the bars. The mother was again struck by the bland normality of his appearance. He was medium height and weight and wore steel-rimmed spectacles. He looked more like a high school shop teacher than a sadistic rapist and slave-trader.

The man motioned the slaves over to the bars and handed the tray to the mother through the specially built slot in the gate.

The mother put the tray down on the floor just inside the cell. Both slaves squatted down on their haunches, wincing as the large plugs shifted uncomfortably in their asses. They began to eat greedily. It was always the same meal: oatmeal with raisins, wheat toast and orange juice.

The man took a short stool from under the nearby work bench set along the wall and sat down outside the cell to watch the women eat. His flaccid, but overly large phallus dangled obscenely over the edge of his seat.

"Good morning, cunts" he said pleasantly.

"Good morning, sir," both women answered in unison, smiling up like lunatics.

"Today is a big day," he said formally. "Your last full day of training before we embark on our journey to meet your new mistress."

The women said nothing.

"I want to start off today with a friendly warning," he said. He stood up abruptly and began pacing back and forth in front of the cell.

"Remember, this is not my first rodeo. I've been in this situation dozens of times. I know that some slaves at this point contemplate a last-minute bid for escape. They know that once they are on the ship, it will be too late, so they figure why not roll the dice here?"

The women studiously examined their food. They did not look up or exchange glances.

The man stopped pacing and stood facing the squatting women.

"I'm telling you to forget it," he said evenly. "As I already told you, I change the access code to the cell lock daily. Even if you somehow overpowered me, there is no way you can get out. There are no other houses within ten miles. If your get trapped in the cell, you will die slowly of starvation."

He reached up and gripped the bars of the cell.

"I suggest you both surrender yourselves to your fate. You are slaves now. Embrace it! Make the best of it. Your old lives are over. Things will go easier for you both, once you give up all hope. I've captured over a hundred slaves. None of them have ever gotten away. There is no escape. Ever."

He sat back down again and put his hands on his knees.

"Having said that, I understand that you may have questions about what is going to happen to you. I have found that the best approach with new slaves is to be honest and upfront about what will be expected of them. This helps them accept their new situation."

He spread his hands magnanimously in front of him.

"I have been reasonably satisfied with your training thus far, so as a reward I will give you this one opportunity to ask me anything you want."

The man crossed his arms across his chest and waited patiently.

It was the mother who spoke first.

"Why us, sir?" she blurted out. She had been quietly pondering the question for days.

The man was obviously expecting the question. He smiled down at the middle-aged woman who only days ago had been teaching grad students about Keynesian economics.