Swapping Positions

I checked the monitors and saw that the other girls were still working on the garden. I got on the loudspeaker and told Annie to bring them inside after another 15 minutes, then take a break until time for lunch. The sun was getting too hot and I didn't want anyone dehydrated. Meanwhile, I manacled Susan's wrists in front of her and followed her swaying behind into my bedroom, where I locked the door and told her to climb onto the restraint bench in a position of "Slave Fours"—butt high and head low. I used her manacle chain and Velcro straps to secure her in that position, which caused her to immediately tense up. I have to say that her shelf-like ass looked magnificent from that angle—or any angle, come to think of it.

"I know this is difficult but try to relax. I'm not trying to hurt you, but you need to get used to being restrained. Besides, I need to stretch your anus a little."

"Stretch my what?" she almost shrieked, only belatedly remembering to add "Master."

"You heard me. Don't worry, I'm not going to butt-fuck you today, but you have to know that someone is going to do that to you sooner or later." I paused, then walked around to show her a small-sized, well lubricated buttplug. "You need to wear this for a few hours each day so that, when someone finally does enter you back there, you don't get hurt."

"Yeeech. I mean, Yeeech, Master," she replied. "Do people really have sex like that?"

"You'd better believe it, girl. Why else would we have so many words to describe it? A lot of guys want to take a woman that way, if only because it gives them a sense of power to do so. On the other hand, many free women feel the same way you do about it. So, if the free women don't agree to butt sex and the free men want it . . ."

"That means that us slaves are going to take it up the ass." She finished my thought, and I was glad to notice that she identified herself as a slave. Then she sighed. "OK, Master, I guess it makes sense to start stretching me, but I really don't like the idea."

"I don't blame you," I agreed. "I'd certainly never want someone to shove a cock up my butt. At least you're built to have sex in another opening, which will often distract the man. Imagine how a male slave must feel about the possibility, when he has no alternative to offer except his mouth."

"Again, Master, Yeeech. Being a slave has certainly been an education for me." She paused for a minute, then added, in a low voice, "Please be gentle when you put it in."

"That's why I tied you down and lubricated the plug so well, to make this as easy as possible. I know it's hard to relax, but try not to tighten up any more than you already have; I certainly don't want to hurt you more than necessary, but I won't lie to you—it's going to sting for a few minutes when I first install this. It'll get better, though."

I brought the plug up to the charge and very slowly, rocking it in and out, worked it into her magnificent butt until the widest part slipped past the sphincter, seating itself with the base up against her distressed opening. She yelped and shivered, but calmed down after a few minutes, during which I slowly stroked her hair and back. Once she was breathing normally, I began to fondle her again, reaching underneath her to diddle her nipples and clit, then stroking her gently all over. I'd already noticed that she was very responsive, but I think she was surprised when she realized that she was getting excited again. I called her on it.

"Something tells me that you're starting to enjoy being a sex object, my little slut."

She frowned but couldn't deny it. "Umm . . . Master, what are you planning to do with me?"

"I think you know the answer to that. How about we start with more practice for your mouth?" As I said this, I moved around to her face, unzipped my pants again, and pulled my prick out.

"I haven't anything else to do at the moment," she grinned up at me, and then began to tongue and swallow me. With her head tilted back, her neck was in line with her mouth. That made it easier for her to accommodate me, and I slid in until my pubic hairs were almost at her nose. I pumped in and out in a slow, regular rhythm as she learned to breathe around the shaft without choking.

"Good girl," I praised her. "You're catching on real fast, but I think it's time for the main event." She looked both relieved and apprehensive as I withdrew from her mouth and walked around behind her, running my hands over her helpless body as I did so.

"I've got to say, slut, that it's almost a pleasure to train you. Sometimes breaking in a new slave can be a chore, but you're catching on really fast, and I'm looking forward to the next step." I didn't tell her the whole truth, of course, which was that from this angle her body was very sexy and I didn't have to look at her plain face—it's hard for a slave wrangling, surrounded by all that available pussy, to get it up when necessary. I moved up close to her widespread legs, running my hands over her cheeks and then gently stroking her main entrance. I stopped to put on a lubricated condom. "The view back here is magnificent—did the boys in your town realize you were hiding such a fine rear end in your jeans?"

"That's how I got in this predicament, Master—Joey Barnes wouldn't leave me alone, and kept pinching my butt and asking me to sleep with him. When I refused, he framed me for shop-lifting. I hated having to strip naked in front of him after my trial, but it was almost worth it to see his disappointment when Master Brent paid more than he could afford for me! Joey's an asshole." She giggled unexpectedly, just as I brought my cock up to her labia.

"I just realized something," She explained—"Joey really IS an asshole, who deserves to have someone shove something big up inside him."

"Well, I hope that what we'd doing today will be more pleasant for you than putting up with that clown." I commented. In three firm thrusts, I entered her fully. I was afraid of hurting her if she wasn't ready for me but found that she was fairly-well lubricated down there. Good—I wanted her to enjoy this, or at least learn to accept it so she didn't get injured. With my hands firmly on her plush hips, I pumped very slowly in and out a dozen times, then laid down across her back so that I could reach her boobs and clitoris again.

"Tell me if this starts to feel good to you, girl." I told her. It certainly felt good to ME, and she was even clenching her muscles around me, but I wanted to ensure she got off, if I could.

"Umm . . . Master, it already does feel good." She admitted. "Would you please bang me a little harder?"

I grinned and assumed a fake southern accent, while pumping faster into her helpless body. "Well! Ah do declair! Ah'm shocked to discover that you're such a horny little slut. What do you have to say for yourself, girl?"

"All I can say is . . .Ugh . . . Fuck me, Master! Oh, God—yeah! Right there!! Umph!" Maybe she was just a good actress, trying to get the unpleasantness over, but at the same time she was fighting her bonds, slamming backwards to meet me every time I sank balls deep into her aroused body. We were off and running. I'm not sure whether she really climaxed, but I certainly did, and her shaking and heavy breathing seemed genuine.

*****

Over the next three days, we spent a lot of time on her training, and she seemed, if not happy, at least resigned and content. Susan didn't like the requirement for daily enemas and wearing increasingly-large butt plugs, but eventually realized that those plugs made a cock in her vagina feel fuller and more satisfying.

I often sent the other three young girls to their cages for a long nap, during which I had Annie sit in my straight-backed chair while Susan practiced cunnilingus. Susan had obviously never been intimate with a woman before, and was rather repelled by the scent, but Annie was patient and said she was getting better at it. It was a skill Susan needed to learn, and I felt that Annie deserved a treat. (Brent found Annie too unattractive to ever use her. It may sound odd, but I had too much respect for the lead girl, a victim of abuse by her previous master, so I couldn't just wham-bam her. Once in a great while Annie would very meekly beg me to use her, and she was certainly grateful when I did so. I guess you can't live with a bunch of young sex slaves without getting occasional urges.)

The third evening, I combined Susan's training experiences, still trying to ensure she enjoyed it. As she posed on hands and knees, lapping away at Annie, I again fucked her doggie-style. This, in conjunction with a new, larger plug in her butt, gave Susan her first experience of multiple partners. She came like a bomb, and afterwards expressed surprise that it had turned her on so much. So then we reversed things with her sucking me off while Annie wore a rather small strap-on—about five inches long by ¾ inch around—to gently introduce Susan to sodomy (or at least pegging). I looked forward to spit-roasting Susan with my partner, assuming we didn't manage to sell her first.

All good things come to an end. Brent arrived back at the ranch frustrated, having found only one girl he thought was worth buying. Lacey was a pretty little thing, no more than 20 years old and five feet tall with red hair and small but firm boobs. I didn't envy her being broken in and trained by Brent's methods, but he intended to do just that for the next few days, taking a break after the long road trip.

Of course, Brent first wanted to sample Susan. I was sure he had already face-fucked her when he first bought her, but now he wanted his favorite—butt sex. I'd warned the new girl to expect this, and to use both an enema and lots of lube on the afternoon he was due home. Beyond mildly reminding him not to injure the merchandise, I said nothing when, after supper, he ordered Susan into his room and slammed the door shut. All the other slaves could hear her shriek, following by loud sobbing, until the noise abruptly stopped, probably because he had installed a ball gag. I don't see any point to endangering our investment by hurting a girl, but he was entitled to help train her, and I have to admit that no slut dared disobey him after he cornholed her like that. As I said before, good cop, bad cop. But, I didn't like the sound of her crying.

Early the next morning, he released her. I gave her breakfast and some ibuprofen while she sat on an ice pack, then told her to clean up. It was time to take Susan and the other three trained girls to the largest store in Sweetwater, Texas, which hosted our sales one afternoon a month. Brent stayed home for his version of training Lacey, while Annie cooked and did the chores.

*****

These sales were how we made our money, but they were often boring. When we first arrived in Sweetwater there were a number of people in the store, so I put the girls through their slave positions as a way to attract business while I stood there holding a shock baton (for me this was a prop—I never used it, but somehow the baton reinforced the idea of slave control in the minds of the customers). And it worked—I got our asking price for Miranda, a plump little Latina who had sold herself into slavery to pay her parents' debts. The bachelor rancher who bought her said he wanted a combination housekeeper and bedwarmer. He did not show any signs of being brutal, and I hoped he would treat her well. So, the trip was a financial success, and Miranda's face showed some hope as he led her away.

By mid-afternoon, however, the store was almost empty. Then, in the midst of a thunderstorm, the power went off. The emergency lighting came on, but the store couldn't run its cash registers and all the customers left. I couldn't even read my book and got really bored. The remaining girls were even more bored—each one sat on an exercise pad, tethered in place by a long chain on her ankle. But, it seemed too early to head back to the ranch, especially since the power might come back on.

I guess I had a bit of a crush on Susan, or at least she was still such a new partner that having sex with her was a novelty. Seeing no one within sight, I told her to kneel, then walked in front of her and unzipped my pants. Out of habit, I still held the shock baton in my left hand while with my right I "whipped it out." In the dim light, Susan appeared quite willing to suck me off, so I told her to get to work.

After a few days of practice, she'd become quite skilled with her tongue, lips, and throat, and in less than a minute I was fully erect and enjoying myself immensely. To prolong the pleasure, I began trying to remember state capitals and then who won the World Series for the past ten years. Trying to distract myself only worked part-way, and I had to resist the urge to face-fuck her. Instead, I gently stroked her face and hair as she did her best. Then, the lights flickered half-way on and I remember thinking that I would have to cut this short and pack up to head home. Maybe I could stop at a rest area and have her finish me later.

At that moment, with the lights still only barely glowing, I heard and felt a strange buzz . . . and everything shifted in a split second. Suddenly, I was on my knees, long brown hair in my eyes, naked, collared, and with my mouth full of something warm and hard—and I was looking up at a six-foot, two-inch guy with my face! As I said at the beginning of this tale, I still don't know how it happened, but now I was inside Susan's body, giving a blowjob to myself, or rather to my body. And I was also aware that I had a naked female body that was really enjoying having to service this muscular guy. WTF?

I spit "my" prick out of my mouth and sat back, looking up. I don't know how I knew it, but as I looked up "my" eyes (that is, Jim's eyes) suddenly widened, and I realized that Susan was grinning down at me out of my face. And (s)he wasn't going to let me get away with my little rebellion. I saw the shock baton shift over to touch my right nipple, and suddenly a full charge slammed me to the ground.

"You know better than that, slave," said the guy looming over me, calmly. "When I tell you to suck, you keep going until I tell you to stop, got it? Answer me."

The shock convinced me that this was real rather than a nightmare. I had enough presence of mind to answer "Yes, Master;" I certainly didn't want another charge.

My new owner told me to think about my disobedience while (s)he took the other girls out to the van. I could see the shock on their faces, because they'd never seen "me" inflict pain so casually, and so they were suddenly nervous about what "Master Jim" might do to them. I had caught my breath and worked my way back up on my knees when (s)he returned. (S)he had obviously watched how I worked the restraints, since without hesitation (s)he disconnected the store's ankle chain, hauled me to my feet, cuffed my hands behind my back, and frog-marched me out to the van, pausing only to pick up my computer bag and documents. Just then, the store lights flickered back on.

Out in the parking lot, the sky was still dark and the air was very heavy and humid on my exposed skin. My owner pinned my naked body—which was not only female but much smaller and weaker than I was used to—up against the van while slowly fondling me all over and whispering to me. My shoulders and cuffed hands were pressed against the vehicle as (s)he explored me in a very leisurely fashion. I felt much more alive in this body than I had in my other one—everywhere those hands went, all the sensors in my skin lit up and communicated pleasure messages directly to my nipples and delta. At first, I thought I was sweating between my legs, but then realized I was turned on! I tried to resist these sensations but my new body, which had already been partly aroused before I moved into it, was getting excited by a strong man overpowering and playing with me.

"That's right, 'Master,'" (s)he said calmly, with just a hint of sarcasm. "The positions are reversed, and your ass is mine. Heck," (s)he said as two fingers slid down between my legs to discover moisture, "you're actually excited about being my slut, aren't you?"

(S)he continued. "Don't bother trying to tell anyone what happened—I don't understand it either. Can you imagine what 'Master Brent' would do to you if you told him you were his partner inside a slave's body? Ha! Your body, your fingerprints, your DNA, and the tracking chip in your neck all say you're a slave named Susan for the next 3 years and 360 days. Just like you told me when we first met, as a free 'man' I can fuck you any time and any way I want. Not only that, but I expect you to answer any questions I have about your business, since I'm now the part owner and you're just part of the inventory, a piece of ass for sale."

"If you don't want to cooperate, I'd be glad to show you what it feels like to be raped—oh, wait, you told me it was impossible to rape a slave, so it shouldn't hurt at all, right?" She half-giggled, half-chuckled. "Don't worry too much. Because you were so kind in training me, I'll return the favor, but I intend to put you through everything I've experienced. You're already turned on, and that bastard Brent already finished stretching my ass, so it shouldn't be too difficult to train you. Do we understand each other, 'Sweetheart?'"

Still shaken by this bizarre turn of events and feeling very vulnerable, I nodded my head weakly, then remembered to say "Yes, Master." To reinforce her control, (s)he grabbed a handful of my hair, then kissed me hard, the tongue exploring every corner of my new mouth before releasing me. Breathless, I gave him/her directions to drive back to the ranch and found myself strapped down in the shotgun seat of the van. At least (s)he switched my cuffs around so that they were in front of me—riding for hours with my hands behind my back would have been agony. As it was, I was almost catatonic with dread.

While my new owner had been exploring my new body, I could feel what used to be my erection pressing against my soft new belly. I had never thought of my cock as particularly large, but now that I no longer controlled it, it felt huge and menacing, a silent reminder that I would be on the receiving end rather than the driving end of that shaft—the socket instead of the prongs. The person who used to be Susan had only been in my body for a few minutes but was obviously thrilled by the idea of penetrating me. Becoming a slave was terrifying—which was one reason I had always tried to treat new slaves with compassion. But going from a male slaver who taught new slaves how to fuck to a female slave in the hands of someone who, with good reason, intended to take revenge on my new, helpless form—that was absolutely horrifying.

*****

All too soon, we arrived back at the ranch. My new owner released all three of us (!) slaves and sent us into the house, where Annie had, as usual, prepared a nourishing meal. The sight of Brent's newest acquisition, Lacey, sitting on an icepack with a tear-streaked face reminded me of an even greater danger—getting fucked by my old body would be bad enough, but the thought of Brent's big cock slamming into my butt was even worse!

I tried to be as meek and obedient as possible, hoping that my new owner would eventually take me to bed for one-on-one sex and talk. Fortunately, I guess, Brent decided that what he really wanted from me was a blowjob. As soon as supper was over, he ordered me to kneel (no pillow this time) in front of his chair and "suck my cock, bitch." To reinforce the command, he wrapped his hand into my hair until I winced and then he pulled my head forward. My male mind was horrified by the idea, but I had absolutely no choice, except to reply "Yes, Master."

Viewed at a range of only a few inches, his shaft looked even bigger than the one I used to own. It was massive, threatening, and already half-erect, so I decided to get to work before he chose another one of my openings for use. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the slaver-formerly-known-as- Susan smirking at the sight of me gobbling Brent as quickly and sensuously as I could. I put everything into it that I had had ever taught or seen women do, trying to breathe around this foreign object that filled my mouth completely. I took a risk by breaking my position, reaching forward with both hands. My right hand grabbed his left buttock, pulling him forward on the chair with his tool deeper into me while the left hand gently stroked his scrotum and balls as I continued to blow him. Both Brent and I were surprised when, after only about four minutes of my frantic licking and sucking, he discharged his load in three long spurts. I had never imagined having to follow my own instructions at this point, but I knew what a slave had to do. I tried to hold all his cum inside my mouth, then backed up and opened my mouth to show it to him. Once he was satisfied, I swallowed the disgusting mess as quickly as possible and politely asked for the "privilege" of cleaning off his "monster cock." (Slaves are taught to always flatter a master about the size of his equipment, but in this case Brent was so well-endowed that no exaggeration was necessary.) Yeeech, as Susan would say. But I managed to lick him clean, and he even commented to "Jim McNamara" that "you've done a good job on this whore, partner."