Your Request

Your Request

Your Request – Not2no1tme

The large man was noticeable when he entered the bookstore early that morning. Dressed in a silver trench coat and wearing a black Stetson, he would have stood out anywhere, he was especially conspicuous in the white toast suburban bookstore. While most of the patrons and works glanced over to him then looked away, Catherine could not keep her eyes off his imposing figure. He went over to the store’s patio coffee bar, picked up a copy of the TIMES that was left at the table and ordered a cup of coffee. He just sat, read, and drank but Catherine found the figure to be imposing, dominating, and seductive.

He had come in just before the mid day lunch rush. Soon his figure was obscured by the crowd of consumers. The line Catherine was working in had gotten long as soon as the other cashier took her break. As she rang up people, she felt a strong hand grip her arm. “We have reviewed your application. You may be tested, you are to follow me.”

“Yes, sir,” Catherine said instinctively. For years she had longed for complete submission and slavery. Spending her nights and weekends pandering her body to as many doms and dommes as would take it. Then one day, about four months ago, she received an application through e-mail. She filled it out, detailing both her wants and her fears of these wants. Realizing who this was, her fascination with him made sense now. She left the register open and followed him out the door.

Seeing this the manager ran over to intercept the couple. “What the hell are you doing? It is not your break – get back to work, we have customers.”

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“She is no longer your employee,” the large man stated.

“What the hell am I going to do – I have customers waiting? You leave, you will not come back in again. Catherine, what am I going to do?”

“Lose money,” the man said, pulling her out through the door.

He walked her to a large black van. Then dispassionately ordered, “Strip.”

Her body froze with fear, her manager and several of her friends were watching the scene and she could not easily go back and explain the situation to them. Obediently, she took off her sweeter, jeans, shoes, hose, bra, and panties and stood facing the man, completely naked. “Now turn, face the store and rub your cunt, show them this is your want, slut.”

Catherine turned and looked over, it was as if she saw every eye on her. Slowly she put her hand over her cunt and began to rub it. She could see many of her friends crying for her. Her manager was too busy yelling insults and obscenities to notice. Then she felt the man’s hand grab her shoulder and throw her into the van.

Catherine began to sit down, the large man grabbed her hair, and pulled her head down to his feet. “You do not deserve the pleasure of sitting like a normal person.”

“Yes, Sir,” she timidly uttered.

“It says here that it is your want to be a slave. Is that right.”

“Yes sir, I will be a good and attentive slave sir.”

“Shut up! You have no idea what being a slave is. That is what the hell I am here for. Right now you are just a craving humiliation, pain slut who needs to be abused to come. If you make the transformation, you will be a slave, until then you are only a slut.”

“Yes sir, I am a slut sir. It is my want to be a slave, sir.”

“You will cease to exist as Catherine: from now on you address yourself as ‘this slut’. You are not to consider yourself human, you are an object. You will be given back your humanity only as a slave. If you fail to become a slave, you will be an empty useless object. It will be up to you to reinvent your life and your personality, but I will leave you a barren sexual object. I will allow you to come once during your transformation. If you pass it will be the first of many orgasms, if you fail you will never be able to come again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” the slut said confidently, assured that through her will she could pass any task that was given to her.

“You are not to refer to me as Master!” the man yelled. “Master implies some sense of trust and responsibility, which I don’t have. Right now I would just as soon throw you out of the van to try as best you can to rebuild your life as shit on you. Until I give a damn about you or have any taste for your submission, you are to refer to me as Governor. Understand?”

“Yes Governor, I do.” With those words she felt his cane fall on her shoulders. The pain was excruciating.

“Care to rephrase that, slut?”

“Yes Governor, this slut understands,” she said without hesitation.

“We are to be at the warehouse in two hours. I suggest you give up any sense of pride, humility, or hope. You crossed the line of no return when you sent in your application.”

“Yes Governor,” the slut stated as she laid prone at his feet. The afternoon sun skimmed over her naked flesh.

The slut felt the van slow, as it did its governor placed a thick black cloth bag over its head. When the van came to a complete stop the slut was lead out of the car, its hands shackled.

Standing naked in a echoing room, the governor began his instructions. “You are to be cleaned and have your identity stripped. My slaves will take over from here.”

The slut felt two hands grasp it and lift the black cloth from its head. The slut was in the hands of two stunning tall women. Each was wearing a tight black latex body suit. Covered head to foot in the shimmering fabric with the exception of their left breasts which were exposed. Across the top of each tit each woman had the word “slave” branded into their bodies.

The taller of the two women kicked the slut in the back of its knees. It fell to the ground. “You are to crawl until and if you pass, you slut.”

“Yes ma’am, thank you for instructing this slut ma’am,” the slut said with enthusiasm.

“Look at it,” the taller one continued smiling at the other latex clad slave. “It thinks that enthusiasm makes a difference.” They both laughed.

The taller slave grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled the slut’s hair back. “You can fight, you can submit. It is irrelevant.”

The slut did not know how to take this, but fighting did not seem like an option. Both of the other woman were far bigger and stronger then it.

“We need to clean this slut.” the smaller slave advised.

“Right.” the then took the slut and pulled her knees dragging and bumping along the warehouse floor. In the far corner was a tiled section with a single drainpipe set in its floor. There was no shower head. The slut looked a little confused when one of the slaves threw it a bar of wash soap. The slut just stood dumbfounded until the larger of the two slaves pulled a fire hose out from the wall. Turning the hose on its body, the slut was slammed to the wall by the pressure of the hose.

“Clean that whore body of yours.” the smaller slave demanded.

The slut tried as hard as possible to rub the bar over her flesh while being pelted. When finished, the two slaves grabbed the slut’s wet body and pulled it over to a large white porcelain table. Securing it down, the larger of the two slaves advised, “Now we are to remove any sense of your identity.”

The slut heard the buzz of clippers and the sensation of having her pubic hair removed. It was quite an erotic experience for the slut. “Oh, look at it, it thinks we are done,” the larger slave said as she began to shave the slut’s head clean with the clippers. The slut had expected to have its head shaved so was not too startled. But it then became upset when the taller of the two slaves began to shave off every other hair on its body, including its eyebrows, eyelashes, and nose hair.

When finished with the clippers, the two slaves painted the slut’s body with wax. It scalded the slut as it passed on her open flesh. With the wax still hot they covered her body with cloth, and with a quick rip, pulled every hair off its body by its root. The slut cried from both the pain and the realization it was now a complete different body then it had been 4 hours ago.

“Isn’t it cute.” the larger of the two slaves said. “The slut is crying, and so early into the transformation.” Then the slave took the wax directly from the caldron it was boiling in, and rubbed it into her own eyebrow, and with a quick yank pulled every hair out. “Is that what upset the poor little slut?”

The two slaves turned her over and repeated the process on her back. The slut was quite sure she was through, when the taller of the two women ladled a bit of the wax into a small cup. The smaller of the woman went to the cabinet and opened a jar of sulphuric acid. The room filled with the smell of rotten eggs as it was opened.

They set the slut down in a chair and painted letters on each of her finger tips. “WHORE” across its left hand and “SLAVE” over its right hand. Then carefully each placed the slut’s fingers into the acid, which ate away its fingerprint, leaving only a name.

The slut cried in pain as the acid etched its fingers, the shorter of the two slaves bandaged the fingers up. The larger of the two grabbed a fistful of the slut’s hair and threw it down on to the floor. “We are not finished with you yet slut,” the hulking woman yelled.

Cupping its hands together to ease the pain rushing through its body, the slut crawled behind the two women to meet the Master again.

“You seem to have done a compete job,” he said skidding his hand over the slut’s sleek hair free scalp. “Next you will need to inventory it. Place it in the storage area, I purchased a few items you can get to it when you are finished with the other work,” the master said running off.

The slut was led into a large chamber area, in which there were several other items that were being added to the Master’s collection that day. The two slaves took it and placed it in a corner, while they methodically measured and dissected all of the other items. Finally getting to the slut, the taller of the two slaves asked dispassionately, “What is this?”

Flipping through her clipboard the shorter of the slaves answered, “It is a slut, Californian make, heavily used.”

Poking it with the tip of her index finger the taller of the two slaves said, “Hmm, seems to be in good condition, let’s go through the checklist,” and handed the smaller of the two slaves a Taylor’s measure and set of calipers. Starting from the bottom up, they took down every single measurement on the slut’s body, including toenail length, toe length, the height of each arch, the circumference of its ankle, the length of its legs, width of its kneecaps, thickness of the folds in its cunt, the depth of the crack of its ass, how much its navel was off center, the depth of each breast, the length at horizon, 45 degrees to horizon and vertical, the thickness of its neck, the length of its jaw, every exact measurement of its face, the angle of its shoulder blades, the length of its arms, hands and fingers. The taller of the two women would bark out the area that needed to be disputed, the shorter one would measure it, and give the results. The slut was being dissected and measured like a piece of property.

“We need to document this slut, get the boards and camera,” the taller woman demanded.

The shorter of the two slaves wheeled in a cart with a collection of lycra boards, each panted with a checkerboard pattern. The slave constructed a large box of three transparent walls with black checkers, an open front and top, and an opaque floor. The taller of the two took a piece of grease paint and wrote “slut specimen #333” over the belly of the slut. They then began to take photos of it from every possible angle, the shorter of the two slaves would measure the distance from the lens to the slut and write it down on a chalkboard that was placed in the view of the camera providing accurate documentation of the new acquisition. Each shutter snap seemed to take away another layer of the slut’s civility, it was quickly becoming an object, to be handled, owned, and kept up.

When finished the two slaves put away the cameras. The taller one called over to the master to advise that the slut was ready for the next step in its assembly.

On her master’s ok the taller of the two slaves put the black hood on over the slut’s head and lead her into the punishment room.

The slut was taken into a large circular room with a central stage. The room was all covered in shadows with the exception of the center of this stage which from which two posts emerged. The slut was bound spread eagle to two pillars. The shorter of the two slaves carried a video camera into the room, while the taller brought in a teleprompter. The master emerged from the shadows.

“Slut, see what your ambition has brought you, you are now nothing but a naked, shaved, and scarred, and no closer to your slavery then you were earlier this morning. I have stripped you of your job, clothes, and hair. But you still have friends and relatives, you may have some small loyalty to them. This will not do. You are to have loyalty to me and me alone. You are to read what is on the teleprompter while we video it- BEGIN!”

The slut looked over to the prompter and began to read to herself.

“Some of you seeing this video may remember me as Catherine. She no longer exists, and is replaced by the slut object you see before you. This is because as a slut object, I crave pain and humiliation, and all Catherine was was the humanity that kept me from being what I want. As you are soon to see I am a masochistic whore and need to be beaten, abused, and degraded in order to come. If you have any goodwill toward Catherine, forget her, for if you thought she was anything other then this, she lied and deceived you.”

The slut began to cry, “Governor, I can’t read that, it is not true, and if I read it on video tape, I will have no public life to speak of.”

Angrily the Master answered, “Public life, does my dog have a public life, does my chair, my bed, my toilet?”

Then without reason the slut heard her mouth utter: “I am your dog, your chair, your bed, toilet, governor.”

“Good!” then with a simple wave of his hand the taller of the two slaves replayed the teleprompter type, and the slut read it. Then with a second wave of his hand the shorter of the two slaves began the slut’s punishment: ripping the slut’s flesh with the bull whip. The slave continued until the slut had fainted from the pain.

The slut woke up in a dog cage, satisfied that she had earned her submission the night before. The taller of the two slaves came by again and escorted her to the Master’s bedroom chamber.

“You did well last night slut. But if you are to be a slave you must understand that I am the sole determiner of your every action, movement, or thought. To this end you are to be deprived of any sensory joy for the next month. My slaves will prepare you so that you will not be able to smell taste, hear, or see anything that would be remotely pleasing. You are also to serve as my cleaning slut.”

“Yes Governor,” the slut answered.

The same two slaves came into the room and picked up the slut. She was dragged down the hall back to the cleaning room. The larger of the two slaves bound her into the chair.

First she was fitted with a pair of green safety glasses. Every hue, color, or shade was now green to the slut. The brightest yellows, green. The most passionate crimsons, green. The deepest blues, green. Gone was any sense of visual joy, only shades and tints of a hideous nauseating waxy green.

The next step was to have its tongue and the bridge of its nose pierced. A single heavy metal ring was placed through both holes, so that it was near impossible for the slut to eat anything with out chewing the crap out of her tongue. “You will be feed a balanced nutritional drink while here. That is all.”

For the third step, wax was dripped into its nose, so that her olfactory senses were completely deafening. The slut could be standing in a room full of pig shit or rose petals and be unable to distinguish the difference.

The final step was to fit her ears with head phones encased in wax. All she could hear most of the time was white noise filtering in. The master included the head phones so that she was better able to hear his commands and orders.

When the two slaves were finished the taller answered “Master has left you the sense of touch so that you can feel his lash, his cane, his whip. Now get to work slut, clean up the room.”

The slaves exited and left the slut to her cleaning,

The month passed, with the slut being woken by the shorter of the two slaves at 4 am to prepare that day’s food. Then it was subjected to an extremely cruel workload.

The slut’s standard day would start with it cooking from 4 to 6 am. From 6 to 8 am it was to bathe both of the slaves, who were allowed to beat her if it did not do as told. Part of the bath was that the slut was to completely orally service the two slaves, this action would often include lapping soap out of either slave’s ass.

From 8:15 to 8:30 the Master would come down and beat the slut. As the days grew longer and the slut began to lose weight and accept its position, these beatings became inevitable, the only link left to the slut’s sexual drive.

From 8:30am to 10:00 pm, it cleaned the building, every inch it did was to be dusted scrubbed and disinfected. The Master would inspect the slut’s work. The first night it did not meet to his expectations, it was forced to do the day’s work again that night, just finishing before the first slave came by to wake her up. That day was a blur, it did not know if it had fainted or not during its mid-morning beating. The slut made sure not to ever repeat that mistake again.

From 10:00pm to midnight, the slut was relaxed and shaven by the slaves. From midnight to 1am she was suspended from her wrists in the main hallway. At 1 am the taller of the two slaves would take it down, and drag it to its bed.

It was as if the slut’s id was covered in a pile of salt, and each minute of its servitude, each stroke of the master’s lash, each punishment, was like a raindrop that would erode away this covering.

About 3 weeks in the only thing the slut had left was its pride. It had not broken, and felt that no matter what task was placed before it, the slut would overcome it.

Then the slut felt odd one morning, her body was numb with pain. She could not move. She woke and her eyes were scalded by the sun, blinking she looked up to both slaves and said, “Why does this slut hurt so?”

“Well slut, you were allowed to sleep as long as you wanted, the last few weeks you have been too tired to notice the pain,” the shorter of the two slaves said.

“This slut is blind,” the slut said blinking.

“You do not have your glasses on, it will take a while for your eyes to adjust, slut,” The shorter slave said as she put on the slut’s dress.

“So this slut has passed, I can be a slave now?”

“No slut,” the taller slave added quickly. “Master has promised that you will be allowed to come once, so today is the day. You may or may not be a slave by the end of the day. Now follow us, we have quite a lunch for you.”

The slut was set at a table, and began to eat with abandon. The flavor of the food was almost painful after a month of liquid protein drinks. She filled herself well beyond what she had ever eaten before. Violently the slaves took hold of the slut and dragged her into the warehouse. The slut was cuffed to a post. With almost no notice the smaller of the two slaves got an enema bag and pumped the liquid in the slut’s ass. The Master emerged again.

“You have two more tests to fulfil your slavery slut.” he advised walking in front of her. “First you are to hold the water in you for 2 hours. If you shit before then your carcass will be thrown out on the street for you to do with whatever you will.”

“Yes Governor,” the slut said.

Holding the water was difficult and became painful, as her lunch of that day began to digest. Crying in pain as just the first part of the lunch was digested, the slut knew that as things were now there was no way she could withstand 2 hours of the torture, so she desperately tried to vomit. The taller slave laughed at the slut’s attempt. She was right: the only way to pass was to vomit, but the slut could not do it without assistance. The smaller of the two slaves ran over and handed the slut a long feather. The slut immediately rammed it down her throat trying to get her gag reflexes to kick in. When they did, she let the hot acidly liquid hurl over her exposed body. With that pressure gone, the slut was confident that she would withstand the next few hours.

With about 15 minutes to go the Master emerged and proclaimed “I promised one orgasm, you may have it- slave.”

The taller of the two slaves descend down to its cunt, massaging and curling the slut’s clit in her skilled mouth, the slut almost fainted from its want to come, but its mind was focused on holding the shit in her ass. The slut knew if it came then there would be no way it could hold the brown liquid in its ass. The slut cried hard, now having to fight the needs to come and shit.

The slave worked its clit hard. Then the Master said, “Time.”

The slut immediately came all over the slave’s face, its body felt weightless from the orgasm. As it came, the brown liquid came shooting out of its ass onto the floor.

“Can this slut be your slave now?”

“No.” the Master answered. Then with his hand he waved on the two slaves, who rolled in a bowl filled with red hot cinders and two branding irons, both of which were set in the embers.

“One of the irons says “slave” the other iron says “reject.” If you pull the first out you will be allowed to join us, I will have to sell one of these two slaves, but that will do. If you pick the latter then you will be branded as a reject. You will have no life as Catherine to go to, you will have no life here. You will be naked, bald, hurt, penniless and homeless.”

The Master turned and said, “See, you think you can will your slavery. You can not. To be a slave is to have no will. You must understand, that you are disposable, that all you have done, every ounce of your labor and suffering has been useless, meaningless. In the end your slavery will be dependent on your making the right choice.” He pointed to the bowl, the slut reached out and pulled a iron out of the embers…

The End

 

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