Part Two Here
Part Three Here
Stephanie stood in the tight metal cage, barely able to move in the deep darkness.
Cracks of light though the door that covered the narrow chamber revealed little outside the cage. She was in a hole under the floor of the barn. The sides where concrete, probably. The metal bars pressed against her body, her breasts hung out between them, her head unable to move more than a few inches.
Stephanie cried, frightened of what might be in the hole, what spiders and bugs might crawl onto her. But more frightening was the idea that she did not know how long they might leave her there. Her body slumped, knees bending slightly until the cage supported her body in its upright position.
After a while Stephanie screamed. She screamed out, begging to be removed from storage. She cried out that she was willing to do anything, if they would only let her free. Finally, when her voice became hoarse, she simply screamed.
And then she slept. Naked, cold, alone, trapped in the confining, coffin-like metal cage, she slumped down and slept.
When she woke there was no light seeping through the cracks. It must be night. Her mind went over the events of the last few days; her arrival in Malsi, a country dominated by men where women were simply slaves. The successful business meeting that unexpectedly degenerated into an orgy in which she was forced to allow Mr. Jackson, the Malsi executive they had come to meet, to enter her and spew his semen onto her. Her fascination with the slave market, the arousal and interested, and her begging her partner Kevin to let her try the process of being sold (as long as he bought her freedom, of course). Then the ultimate betrayal; Kevin did not buy her freedom; Mr. Jackson bought her.
Accepting her new position as an owned slave was anything but easy, in her mind. But physically, there was very, very little she could do. She had been stripped naked, bound, and taken away in the trunk of a car. Things went downhill from there. At the moment, she couldn't even move a few inches.
She remembered her feeding tube; she had seen it when the ugly man had lowered her into the hole. She was starving, but most of all very, very thirsty. She turned her head and almost immediately felt the plastic tube against her face. She sucked on it; the liquid that filled her mouth was thick and slightly sweet.
After drinking her fill, Stephanie found she needed to pee. She held it as long as she could, but finally released a stream of urine into the pit she occupied. It was humiliating. But not as humiliating as when she needed to defecate some time later. She maneuvered her hands to grab her ass cheeks and spread them wide, pushing the shit out. It plopped down, some sticking to her legs as it fell. She cried again after that.
What seemed like a lifetime later, light seeped into her pit, and she was able to dimly see the concrete walls. Boredom overwhelmed her. Panic came in waves. She wanted to die, she wanted to live, she wanted to be free. She couldn't move. She was buried alive.
Masturbation was a relief. It suddenly came to her that it was something that she could do to amuse herself, even trapped in that cage. She pushed and squeezed one hand around the bars until two fingers reached her pussy and began massaging. It felt fantastic. Pleasure flooded over her as she massaged faster and faster, moving her fingers over her clit. When climax came she shuddered and felt the cage swinging slightly from her movement.
How often can a girl masturbate? Fairly often, it turned out. Stephanie fell into a cycle of eating, peeing, crying, masturbating to orgasm, crying, sleeping, eating, shitting and peeing again, then masturbating again. Over and over. Her pussy was sore from the constant rubbing, but that was OK. She would masturbate until she bled; it was the only pleasure she had. Well, that and peeing. That felt good as well. And drinking from her tube.
After many cycles of eating, sleeping, and masturbating, a loud noise came from above Stephanie. The metal door that covered her pit was pulled back and clanged to the side, and the chain holding her cage suspended started rattling as it pulled her up and out. The light was blinding, and she blinked, getting used to it. She began to cry once again, this time grateful for being rescued, for being pulled out of hell.
The door to her cage was opened and she fell out of it onto the floor, unable to stand. A high pressure stream of water from a hose struck her in the face and she coughed and spat. The water moved from her head to her body, washing up and down, rinsing away the sweat and feces and dried urine from her legs. After a few minutes it stopped, and two hands grabbed her and pulled her to her feet, demanding that she stand on her wobbly legs.
"You were only down there for a few days, you can stand!" A rough voice demanded. "Time for you to be trained. We have a special program for you, since it turns out you have none of the normal background provided for a female. You need a crash course in what it means to be a woman!"
The man dragged her by a leash he attached to her metal slave collar, guiding her out of the large barn with its storage for women under the floor, down a hall and into a small room with a chair in the middle. She sat in the chair, feeling the rough wood dig into her naked flesh, not designed at all for comfort. And yet, sitting anywhere was a delight for her, she had been in a standing position in the cage for days and simply bending her knees and waist was wonderful.
A table was pulled in front of her and a book placed open on the table. Her wrists were tied to the arms of the chair, her legs strapped to the side so they were spread wide. The exposure of her sex made her flush with embarrassment and an enhanced feeling of vulnerability.
"Open your mouth."
Stephanie failed to comply immediately and was slapped hard, a hand hitting the side of her face hard enough to jerk it to the side. Her cheek stung from the blow.
"Open your mouth."
Stephanie opened her mouth and a large but soft ball gag was inserted and then buckled behind her head. She bit down on the gag; her jaw was stretched wide but felt better when she bit down.
"Read the book. Remember what it says; you will be tested on it. Read aloud."
Stephanie looked in disbelief at the man, really seeing him for the first time. It was Mr. Hauser. She stared at him, wondering what he meant. When she delayed, Mr. Hauser took out a thin cane and struck Stephanie's bare breasts with it, hard. The slap stung horribly, and she yelp a muffle cry of pain through the gag.
"Read the book, aloud," Mr. Hauser repeated.
Stephanie looked down at the book. It was opened to the first chapter, and appeared to be a legal guidebook of some sort, outlining responsibilities and procedures. She began to read, the ball gag preventing her words from making any sense.
The cane struck her breasts again, hard, bringing tears to Stephanie's eyes. The stinging lingered this time.
"I can't understand you. Read more clearly."
Stephanie sobbed, once, and then began reading again, doing her best to make the words less muffled around the gag. She hated Mr. Hauser at that point, he was the single pinpoint that represented the horrible Malsi culture and if she could have, she would have killed him. But she couldn't, and so she read the book, slowly, carefully, the best she could while her mouth was stuffed with a rubber ball gag.
The horror and shock of her situation flooded over Stephanie's consciousness. She began to cry, remembering who she was; a professional, a businesswoman, a marketing specialist, the owner of a condo and a great sports car. How could this be happening to her? Strapped down naked, drooling, gagged, whipped by this ugly little man she wanted to kill, she began to loose concentration on her reading. Several burning strokes of the cane brought her attention back to the text and she continued reading in her muffled, gagged voice.
When she reached the end of a page she turned it with her nose and continued. The words meant nothing to her, they weren't applicable to her life or who she was. She read them simply to keep this horrible man from hurting her more.
The directive came suddenly. She stopped and looked up at Mr. Hauser, who removed her gag and untied her wrists from the chair. He held a long stick with prongs. She didn't know what it was, but had a suspicion. It looked a little like the taser used to carry in her purse.
"You have urinated on the floor. Get on your hands and knees and clean it up."
Sure enough, she had peed without realizing it. Several days of learning to pee in storage, whenever it was needed, had trained her to pee whenever the need struck her without thought. Stephanie flushed in embarrassment, but hesitated once again. She looked at Mr. Hauser, wondering if she could knock him down and run.
The stick in Mr. Hauser's hand brushed the side of Stephanie's right breast, and when it did a sudden searing pain sliced through her side with such force it knocked her down. She screamed and then lay on the floor shaking.
"Lick up the urine. Clean the floor."
Feeling was slowly returning to Stephanie's right side and she rolled over and began licking, thoroughly cleaning th
e puddle on the floor where she had been sitting. Her side ached and she remained on the floor, licking, until it was completely clean. Her naked ass was poked into the air as she groveled and licked, though she was hardly aware.
"Back into the chair."
She climbed back in the chair, was strapped in place, and she continued reading. It was some sort of textbook, or guidelines for behavior. Some social order thing, she read the words and understood some of them but her thoughts flew about she hardly knew what she was reading.
Females are a lower class of human, ordained to serve... Females are to remain naked at all times unless permission.... Motherhood is the pinnacle of achievement for any female, procreation is... ... pleasure is always provided to the male, a female's pleasure is a secondary side effect...
It was cold in the barn. Her naked skin prickled with gooseflesh and her nipples were embarrassingly hard. Her legs were strapped to the sides of the chair, forced apart slightly to expose her sex. It was humiliating, but there was nothing she could do. She must have read for an hour before Mr. Hauser stopped her.
"Well, Stephanie. You have completed reading a significant portion of your first course. Time for a quiz."
Mr. Hauser attached a clamp to Stephanie's right nipple; it was two flat pieces, one above and one below the nipple, screwed together tightly. It didn't hurt terribly, though it was uncomfortable. A second similar clamp was attached to her left nipple. Mr. Hauser took time to caress her beautiful softness and play with each nipple to make then harder as he applied the equipment. What scared Stephanie was the wires that descended from each clamp; one black, one red. She understood what this meant and started to sweat.
A metal bucket was placed underneath her chair. This made her even more nervous.
"Very well, let's try the first question. What is the proper role of a female in society?"
Stephanie panicked for a moment and then remembered something that made sense from the reading. "The female is ordained to serve the male in all things."
"Not exactly correct, and incomplete, but we will accept this answer for now. Next question: Describe the female body position when ordered to Present."
Oh god, she didn't know. She had no idea. She had to guess... "Bent... over at the waist, and..aaahhAAHHHHHHHHGGGG!"
White hot shots of pain zapped through both nipples, forcing a scream from Stephanie as she bent over and shook, her breasts bouncing though not enough to dislodge the tightly applied wire clamps. It only lasted a few seconds, but was enough to bring tears to her eyes.
"The proper position is sitting on knees, ass resting on feet, knees spread wide, hands on top of thighs palm up, head bowed down. Next question. What is a female's highest level contribution to society?"
Stephanie felt a wave of anger come over her. She was no slave. She was a free woman, and when she got her first chance she would wreak revenge on all that had put her here; Kevin, Mr. Jackson, Mr. Hauser, everyone. She growled slightly and spit an insult at the man across the table.
"You ... bastard. I hope you rot in AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHEEEGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH".
Stephanie's breasts seemed to light on fire for a few seconds and she cried out in agony, struggling and writhing against straps that held her in place.
"Incorrect. A female's highest contribution to society is as a breeder, to conceive and become a mother. Next question..."
And so it went for a half hour. Most questions Stephanie didn't know the answers to and she was shocked mercilessly, her arms and legs straining and jerking against the straps that held her in place. At the end of the session she had lost bladder control and peed into the bucket below the chair more than once. Her breasts hurt constantly.
"Stephanie, I must say you are more beautiful than ever when you are writhing in pain. But, that isn't the goal of these sessions. Next time, pay more attention to the material." Mr. Hauser gently cradled her face with his hand, kissed her on the forehead, and then unstrapped her from the chair.
"Let's relax a little. This was a hard time for you, I know. Open your mouth."
Stephanie opened her mouth almost automatically. Obedience was beginning to sink in, her training slowly being absorbed into her being. Mr. Hauser inserted a round metal ring, angling it behind her teeth so that her mouth was held open painfully. The ring was strapped behind her head.
Mr. Hauser unzipped his pants and pulled out his hard, long member. Stephanie knew what was coming. She understood there was little she could do about it, but Mr. Hauser was so disgusting to her she tried to get away. Turning her head and wriggling out of his grasp, she started to crawl toward the heavy door of the barn, but didn't get far. She was still weak and before she got to her feet her captor had caught up to her and snapped a collar and chain around her neck. He forced her to her knees and shoved his elongated cock between her distended lips.
It was quick. Mr. Hauser thrust and Stephanie choked, the back of her throat closing around the glans of his penis, involuntarily massaging it until he thrust hard into her and ejaculated a load of semen. The gag kept her from swallowing, so the white fluid slowly drained from her mouth, mixed with her saliva and a bit of vomit.
That night Stephanie was locked in a cage, not long enough to stretch out or lay down, hardly tall enough to kneel on hands and knees. She slept fitfully, uncomfortable, unable to move much. It was better than being in storage, though, and there was real food and water in a bowl. A bucket under the cage caught her body's waste.
The next day was much the same, reading material out loud, caned across her breasts or any exposed part of her body when she faltered. Mr. Hauser seemed to appreciate her beauty, the shape of her body and her face and hair, for her fondled her frequently. She was tested again, this time standing with her arms and legs tied apart, electrodes smashing her nipples. Her body twisted and writhed from the pain when she got an answer wrong or hesitated.
The sessions of learning and torture blurred into each other. Shocks to her nipples were replaced by shocks to her anus, or vagina. She was fed from the bowl and had time to rest in her cage, but never rested or slept enough. The training sessions were relentless and Stephanie was desperate to begin learning so she could stop the pain.
Quickly, Stephanie learned how to pass the tests. She had to change the way her mind worked; she changed her thought patterns. In order to give the correct answers of a submissive woman, she had to begin thinking like a submissive woman. She changed her attitude toward Mr. Hauser; he was simply trying to help her. She needed to find her subspace and actually feel the reality of her submission. Once she began to embrace the state and process of her slavery, it became easier to quickly answer questions correctly.
"Who does a woman look to for approval?"
"Her master and owner."
"What if her master is not there?"
"Any male that she serves or can serve."
"What is the submissive mating position?"
"On my back, legs up behind my arms or shoulders, as I am able."
"Why are you receiving shocks and strokes of the cane?"
"Because I am imperfect, and discipline helps me perfect myself."
Mr. Hauser used her periodically for his own pleasure. Stephanie learned what he liked, and pride swelled in her naked breast when he gasped and spewed semen into her mouth. She knew how to make him climax fast, and from his moans she was satisfying him better than ever.
She served, using her body and mind to pleasure the male, and that felt good and right to her.
Finally, the day came when Mr. Hauser announced that Stephanie had completed her basic training, and she was ready to begin actual interaction and integration with the Malsi culture. She was to be transported back to her master's estate, where she would be assigned duties.
This wonderful news excited Stephanie. As she stood in chains in front of Mr. Hauser, her hand strayed to her naked body and pressed between her legs. She was masturbating, unconsciously. She wasn't aware she was doing it, but her excitement, pride and joy led her to engage in the only form of pleasure she had had access to.
"Stop that, Stephanie!" Mr. Hauser's voice was stern. Stephanie jerked to attention, wondering at first what she had done wrong and then pulling her hand away from her pussy quickly when she realized what she was doing.
"Pleasuring yourself in that manner is only to be done when allowed by your master or his representative. You know this! Your pleasure is for men to provide at their discretion. Remember this. Now, let's get you ready for transport."
Mr. Hauser led Stephanie into a small room off the side of the barn. A styrofoam case with an odd hole cut in the middle lay on the floor. The hole was in the shape of a human being, curled into a partial fetal position.
Mr. Hauser took a small audio player and strapped the headphones to Stephanie's ears. When he turned the sound on, Stephanie heard a voice talking. It spoke continuously in a hypnotic, beautiful voice.
"You are a slave. You have no value other than obedience to males. Always obey, always strive to please the men around you. This is the only way to happiness and fulfillment. To be happy is to use your mind and body for the pleasure of males. Success of your master is your success. Pleasure of your master is your pleasure. There is no way to be happy than to pleasure men. You are nothing, empty without a male master. Your pain and suffering is joy. You can not change your slave nature any more than a rock can move on its own. Use your nakedness to show your willingness to serve. Your mind is simply a tool to use to bring success and pleasure to the men you encounter....."
The voice continued in her head, seducing her, filling her mind with the principles she had learned in her basic training.
Mr. Hauser brought
Stephanie to the box, laying her down in the hole. It fit perfectly; as more layers of styrofoam were added, her body became completely surrounded in a tight fitting cocoon. The audio player feeding the subliminal messaging into her ears was placed into a tiny compartment carved out of the packing material.
Stephanie panicked for a moment. The box was holding her tight, completely unable to move. She cried for a moment and began struggling, trying to rise up and out.
"Shhh... now Stephanie. Remember, you are being transported. Trust your masters to do with you as they see best. That is who you are. Property, to be used as your owner sees fit. Accept this. Be happy in it."
Stephanie cried, shaking uncontrollably as the last layer of packing material was placed over her, closing her naked body in completely. A heavy top to the box was applied and screwed into place, and she was packed away, unable to move, wrapped in the plastic padded packing material. It was dark, but the voice droned on in her ears.
"A man's semen is your blessing. Always seek to draw it from a man; it brings you pleasure whether inside you or smeared on your skin. Remember the slave positions for male pleasure, punishment, and submission. Your body is not your own. Your mind is not your own. Allow all men to penetrate and use your body and your mind at any time. It is the only way to survive. Accept the reality of who you are...."
The box was turned up on its side, and she felt it move. She was on her way.