"I don't understand," I said, fearfully. "What are you talking about?"

In answer, he jerked on my leash, pulling me off the bed and onto the floor. I gasped in pain. "Kneel," he ordered. I struggled to obey, my wrists and ankles still bound, and knelt before him. After a moment's hesitation, I opened my knees, displaying my now-shaven intimacies to his view. Almost instinctively, I thrust out my breasts for him. He looked down at me, smiling. "I think you understand quite well," he said. "You are clearly a slave, a girl who exists to serve men in any way they desire, and particularly through the use of your body. Look at how naturally, how readily, with so little training, you display your body before a man. Look at the collar you locked around your own neck and the knots you tied around your hands and feet. We are only making official what has always been true about you, you little slut."

I was beginning to understand what might be happening. "Making official? What does that mean?"

"Until now, you have played at being a slave. Well, those days are over for you now. Now that you are in our possession, you are a slave, in absolute fact. This is not a role that you can put on and take off as your fancy dictates. It is what you are. From now on, you exist to serve your masters, absolutely and perfectly. Your will, your desires, mean nothing. From now on, your life will be one of perfect obedience and unremitting degradation."

I shuddered in fear. It all seemed so crazy, but yet it might be real. "Please don't do this to me," I begged. "I have so much else to live for. Isn't there something else I can offer you? Don't you want to rape me, to use my body any way you like? I'll serve you any way you want, as often as you want, for as long as you want," I pleaded. "But don't make me a slave."

"You have nothing to bargain with, slave," he answered. "I can use you any way I want, as many times as I want, and still make you a slave. That's what being a slave is all about." I knew he was right. That was what I had to look forward to, I began to realize - constant, repeated abuse of my most private charms, with no control over what men and women would make use of me. I knew there could be cooking, and cleaning, and stripping myself naked, posing seductively, kneeling, and licking my master's feet, but the true essence of a slave girl's life would be to provide the full range of exquisite, intimate, sexual services that could be commanded of her, performing all of them immediately and willingly. While my previous experiments with Cristina had always brought me intense psychological excitement, this time I only felt dread at the future of submission and humiliation that lay in store for me - and might begin at any moment.

"So I really exist solely to please men with my body," I said to myself as much as anyone. I looked up at my captor. "When do I begin? Are you going to teach me my slavery now?"

"Not just yet, my eager little slut," he answered. "First we have to get you out of here."

One of the other men pushed me to the floor and turned me to my back. He took a knife and cut the bonds joining my ankles. Then the third man pushed a small ball gag into my mouth and buckled the straps tight in back. They lifted me to my feet and wrapped a long trench coat around my nude body. The first man said, "You're going to walk down the stairs and into the car parked in front of the building. If you make any sudden moves, you'll pay for them later. Do you understand?" I nodded my head quickly. I looked around my apartment, taking one last glance at the life I was leaving behind, the life in which I had a bright future ahead of me. Instead, I would be a helpless plaything, a sexual toy that men and women would make use of and discard. Tears ran down my cheeks freely as I imagined what my life would be like now - the services I would have to perform, the people I would have to obey, the humiliations I would have to suffer. Then one of the men led the way down the stairs and my captor pushed me down behind him.

We reached the street without incident and I was pushed into a waiting limousine. Once inside, I was stripped naked and once again made to kneel as a slave. With the lights on, I could see the leader of the three men was tall and broad-shouldered, with black hair and sharp, angular features. His colleagues also towered above me. I had never before felt so small, and soft, and vulnerable, as I did, kneeling naked and bound in their presence.

"I will explain a few things to you now," he began. "If you learn them, swiftly, you will increase your chances of surviving." I swallowed, hard. "You are a slave. That is all you are. You exist to serve your masters, instantly and fully. You have no rights, no will, no desires. Your sole purpose is to give pleasure to your masters. Being what you are, your best chance of doing that is with your body, and I advise you to make use of it as best you can.

"You must address all free men and women as master or mistress. You will not speak unless spoken to. If not otherwise instructed, you will kneel in their presence. You may never close your knees or otherwise deny access to any part of your body. You must remain continually, total open to any use that your masters can imagine. If you fail to obey, you will be beaten, or worse. You can be used in any way by any person at any time, and you must serve all of them willingly and eagerly. Do you understand?"

My head swam. This was far more terrifying than any fantasy I had ever had. I imagined the repeated, cruel abuses that I could suffer in this new life, being forced to serve masters in ways I had never imagined, or simply being raped by tens or hundreds of men in uninterrupted succession. "Yes, master," I whispered. "I understand. I will obey."

"Very well. Now I will be the first to introduce you to your new condition."

"Yes, master," I said meekly, now knowing I was only moments away from my first slave rape. My body was beginning to lubricate itself in self-defense. "How may I serve you?"

"Turn away from me," he ordered. I obeyed, still kneeling. "Put your head to the floor. Put your hands behind your head." I was now fully open and exposed to him, my bound hands powerless to protect me from his impending assault. He made me wait what seemed like hours as I trembled naked on the floor of the limousine, awaiting my ravishment. Then suddenly he entered me and I gasped in shock. He made use of me rapidly, casually, brutally, demonstrating that I was but passive flesh available for his convenience, and then withdrew. He had aroused me with his usage of me, but it was over much too quickly for me to gain release. "You may thank me," he said.

"Thank you, master," I sobbed, not daring to break position. Then I felt another man penetrate me and subject me to his domineering thrusts, again using me quickly and casually. "Thank you, master," I repeated when he had finished with me, and awaited the third.

"I would prefer to make use of that mouth of hers," he said instead. Not sure what was expected of me, I turned to face him and raised myself to my knees.

"You may use me in any way you wish, master," I said. At a sign of encouragement, I opened his pants and lowered my head to his body. I had never before pleasured a man with my mouth, but I thought I could guess what I should do. He locked his hands in my hair and pulled my open mouth over his manhood, setting the pace I must keep. Soon he let out a moan and clutched my head to him, forcing me to swallow his seed. I almost gagged, but my fear at the potential consequences overcame my reflex. He withdrew from me. "Thank you, master," I managed to say. He cleaned himself off with my hair.

The leader of the three said, "That is all you are good for now. You had better hope that men find you satisfactory."

"Yes, master," I replied.