A New Sex-Slave

Turning the girl’s face towards him, Olaf stared into her fear filled eyes intently. It was quite remarkable – that he should come to own this slave.

“I can’t believe it. You are a real person – someone with a life and a past, who once was like me. But now you belong to me. You are mine. I own you.” Olaf spoke aloud to himself, since the girl was gagged with a leather head harness.

How he had come to be a part of this society is a matter for another story, but suffice it to say he had not always been a part of it. Only recently had it been suggested to him that he was sufficiently assimilated to own his own slave.

In the way of outsiders, even though he had striven for years to reach this point, he had never contemplated it actually happening. He had seen the spectacle of an auction once when he was very new, but he remembered nothing of the one that morning in which he had acquired his new slave. It had been a blur of adrenaline, as he hoped no one would outbid him on the girl he had picked out from the kennels the previous day.

They stood alone together in a smallish bare room. Lights was provided by a diffuse glow emitted evenly from the ceiling panels. A single chain descended from the center of the ceiling, terminating in a hook which held the cuffs which bound her wrists. Each of her ankles was adorned with a similar cuff, locking her legs to a pair of D-rings in the floor. Other than the head harness and cuffs, the girls was totally naked.

She was very attractive, Olaf thought. She had blond hair and blue eyes, was thin with smallish hips, but nicely sized pert breasts, which heaved enticingly with each breath she took. Olaf stared again into her eyes.

Behind the fear, there was a naivete of a kind. Olaf decided that she knew that she was in this new place for good, but did not yet know what that meant, or what her fate here would be. She would only meet his eyes fleetingly.

Olaf was unclear how to treat his new slave. Some masters were vicious, others loving. Slaves were never treated as equals in public, but he suspected that things were different in many relationships in private. Some slaves had a glint of intelligence and knowing in their eyes, as if being a slave were just a charade they played along with when in the company of others. Olaf had picked this one because she looked like she might have that potential, but he was unsure of how to unlock it, or if he wanted to unlock it just yet.

While on the one hand, he really wanted to just reach out and remove her bondage and tell her that he had once been new to all this too and have someone to understand him, he knew that that was not how things worked here. He had also been here long enough to not want to give up his rights of ownership – he looked forward to having someone dedicated solely to pleasing him.

At least she seemed not to have caught on to his indecisiveness. She made no attempt to appeal to him for escape – she had accepted the circumstances apparently.

Olaf stopped circling her, and stopped in front of her. Reaching out, he watched his finger trace downward from her cheek, over her neck, and across to her nipple, pausing and moving further down. Her pubes here hairless, like all slaves here, so no roughness impeded his progress. Nestling his finger between her nether lips, he noted some moisture, but not much. He felt her breath coming harder, her body almost shivering from the nervousness.

The air in the room was cool, and her nipples began to stand out harshly from her breasts. Olaf slowly moved his finger back and forth across the top of her slit, just above her clit. The girl was quivering in his hands as Olaf moved behind her. His finger traveled south for just a moment to run lightly over her clit before returning to the top of her mons.

Olaf liked the feeling of being in control. Air was coming to the girl only in ragged breaths now. Standing behind her, he was unable to ascertain whether any of her fear had transmuted into arousal. He let his finger drift south over her clit again, this time continuing on to plunge into the soft folds of her pussy. She was wet indeed. The finger hooked up into her, as she moaned softly, and tried unsuccessfully to squeeze her thighs closed against the chains holding her ankles apart. Using his thumb, Olaf stroked against her clit gently, moving his digit in and out, accompanied by more moaning.

After a minute of this, Olaf added a second finger to his invasion. Beads of sweat were now forming on the girl’s face despite the cool air, and her hips seemed to have a life of their own, swaying back and forth against Olaf’s hand. His free hand drifted upward from steadying her hips to her right breast, which he now grasped firmly.

When he felt like she was approaching orgasm, Olaf increased the speed of his stroking. When he felt her body go rigid against him, he released her breast and slid his hand down her back. Reaching between her legs from behind, he rested his index finger against her anus for a brief moment before driving it in to the knuckle. The slave shook against him, her nostrils flared as her chest heaved, and her vagina clamped down on his hand. Barely audible shrieking noises escaped the head harness as her hips bucked against his dual invasion: the first two fingers of his right hand pumping in and out of her pussy, and the index finger of his left hand embedded in her rectum.

When he felt her go limp in her bonds, Olaf withdrew his hands from her sex. Moving to the wall, Olaf touched a control which lowered the ceiling chain enough for him to unhook her. After unlocking her ankles, Olaf lay her limp form in his lap as he sat on the floor. His hands stroked her hair and chest, much the way a rider might touch his horse – his hands roamed over her body with no limits, always maintaining contact, letting her know that he owned her.

After another few minutes of indulgence, Olaf bent to kiss his new slave lightly on the forehead. Her eyes fluttered briefly before closing again. Leaving her on the floor of the room which was to be her new home, he walked in to the main room of his new home. Owning a slave came with the responsibility of caring for it, and the new apartment, although very modest at 3 rooms, included a room for his slave.

With a sigh of anticipation of what would happen later that night, Olaf donned his cloak which hung by the door. With a hiss of compressed air, he was out, off to serve his patron, and earn his living in this strange land.