Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿My Prom AfterParty by astuffedshirt_perv

   I trade my prom dress to role play a slave.

   This story takes place in a parallel world where non-hereditary slavery
exists.

   What had started as titters during a sleepover had grown over the years
into a full-fledged plan.  After our post-graduation prom, we would be
slaves to the guys for the rest of the weekend.  It was hard to tell whose
idea it was, as both Jenny and Ash were totally into the idea, Mallory and
Bree were interested, while me and Kayla were kind of uncertain.  I had had
sex with Matt, my boyfriend, but being a 'slave' was a whole new level.  I
went along anyway, as I didn't want to be excluded.  Besides, what is the
worst that could happen?  It was just role play for a day and a half.  One
thing we all agreed on, secrecy was absolutely required.  Our parents would
kill us if they found out, mine in particular.

   The 'Slavery Act' as everyone called it had been passed a generation
ago, and we all kind of knew about it, but only in general.  It wasn't
discussed in school, so most of our information came from rumors.  I
suppose I could have looked into myself, but I had a life to live.  As it
was, I knew more about the law than most, as my mom was almost a full time
advocate for its repeal.  That's why I could never let her find out what we
were planning.

   Abolitionists like her were convinced that women were being enslaved
against their will, but supporters pointed out that no one had ever found a
slave who agreed with that claim.  Estimates were that approximately 0.5%
of the female population had agreed to become slaves, and of course some
criminals also agreed.  Hey, don't do the crime if you can't do the time.
At any rate, the Act was still very controversial.  One thing the Act was
very clear was that no slaves were allowed around kids under 18.  The law
was so strict, you couldn't even have one in the same house as a kid.  As a
result, some of us had never even seen one.  I had seen one once on a trip
to the city, when she was out in her 'slave robes,' an outfit that bore a
striking resemblance to a red burka with the face uncovered.

   Nonetheless, the concept was there, and I had to admit it did sound kind
of hot, not having to study late into the night to keep your grades up,
just being at the disposal of a hot, rich master.  Not having to think for
yourself, just giving in to pleasure.  It was not for me, though, I worked
hard at school and on soccer, I was driven.  I was going to college to
learn to help my mom's foundation overturn the law, but I could still see
the appeal for some girls.  Apparently, 'Slave' parties were a thing at
fraternities.  Being accused of being 'slave wet' was a slur directed at
girls by rude boys, or being told you have a 'slave mentality.' I was
grateful that the guys me and my friends were dating weren't immature like
that.

   Matt, my boyfriend, was great and easy on the eyes.  Tall, dark, and
handsome.  He was 20 of course, as were all the other guys in our senior
class.  Politicians had finally agreed with the research that boys mature
much slower than girls, so guys spent two extra years in middle school. 
The extra years of schooling had finally closed the test score gap between
boys and girls and had resulted in near parity in college enrollment.  I
found Matt so much nicer than boys my age.  If I was going to play slave,
Matt would be a great candidate for a master.  So I swallowed my vague
concerns and played along.

   The existence of slave women resulted in a whole industry catering to
free women who wanted to toy with the idea, kind of like a vacation from
reality.  There were all sorts of different 'slave spas' that offered a
variety of different experiences, some pretty harsh, others quite soft.  It
was the latter kind that Ash booked us into.  We lied to our parents,
telling them we were just going out for a 'girls weekend' at a resort, when
in reality we would be getting slave graded and spending a weekend playing
slave.  No guys, of course, just us girls and the staff.

   The spa was actually run by a slave, Sparkle, an incredibly beautiful
woman who just oozed sexiness.  I'm not even a little gay and I gawked at
her.  She was dressed in a shimmery red translucent tunic that definitely
caught the eye.  It was the first time any of us had ever actually met a
slave, and she seemed happy with her life.  She had been a business
executive, MBA and all, before trading it all in to be a slave.  Her master
had her run the spa while he worked and then...well I guess he used her as
he wanted when he got home.  She explained that she couldn't 'advise us' to
become a slave any more than she could advise us to be straight or gay,
that it was something each of us had to decide on her own.  While I had no
interest in becoming a slave, interacting with her definitely put a new
spin on the whole concept.

   Sparkle told about 'slave haze,' a mental state that a slave slips into
when they embrace their slave soul.  It happens when you release yourself
from your burdens and live to please your master.  Everything just seems
right and you feel as if doing the bidding of your master is the best idea
ever.  It sounded kind of weird, but okay.  She also asked that we embrace
the role we were playing.

   "It's no fun to just dress up and act normal," she said, "While here,
get in the mindset of a slave.  Live it, believe it, because in a few days
you will be going back to your normal life."

   It sounded like good advice to me, and I tried my best to imagine that I
was actually a slave.  Sparkle interviewed us to find out what kind of
experience we wanted.  Ash wanted to go all out, but Mallory wanted to go
easy.  Sparkle counseled us that, since it was our first time, we ought to
take the easy route, so we agreed.  We looked at the brochure and planned
out our weekend.  Sparkle taught us the basics of slavery, the seven slave
poses, including the slave squat.  She told us that slaves were to be
clean-shaven, no hair below the eyebrows.  I had taken care of that
already.

   She taught us that a slave struts with her eyes down and arms by her
side.  While a master could have his slave do the poses naked, at this spa
I did them in my bikini bottoms.  Ash and Jenny did them completely naked.
We did have to get totally naked once, and standing completely bare in
front of my friends was intimidating, but I endured.  I couldn't help but
imagine how it would feel to have to do that in front of a guy...I mean
master.  Or a real slave grader for that matter.  So far only Matt had seen
my body.

   We also learned about punishments, flogging, spanking and caning. 
Other, harsher punishments were mentioned but only in passing.  At first, I
turned down trying them out, but Ash and Jenny each agreed to get caned. 
In the end the rest of us tried it also.  The caning was done bottomless,
and holy shit that stung, fortunately just one strike.  I couldn't help but
stare at the red welt across my bottom, wondering how in the world I would
explain it to mom if she saw it.

   A big part of the weekend was practicing slave skills.  We practiced
looking lustfully at our master, rotating the roles of master and slave
between us as Sparkle coached.  We talked about intimate things, how far we
had gone with our boyfriends.  So much so I learned that Jenny and Bree had
been friends with benefits for about a year.  We each got a slave name, and
mine was Cummy Cat.  The name was based on our own sexual tendencies.  In
my case, I had admitted I loved the taste of cum, the feeling of a guy
cumming in my mouth.  Mallory admitted she moaned a lot during sex, so she
got the name Moaner, and so on.

   One of the major skills we practiced was learning oral techniques.  We
started at a table with a new dildo still in its box.  After opening the
boxes, we practiced giving blow jobs.  The dildos were incredibly
life-like, other than being purple, and had sensors in them that could rate
how good you were doing.  Sparkle gave us instructions, and as we worked we
could track our effectiveness on the screen.  It was all new to me;
previously, when I had sucked off Matt I pretty much just went at it and
had gotten no complaints.  Discovering there were ways to improve the
experience was interesting and I couldn't wait to try it out on Matt.  When
you were 'successful' in completing your practice blow-job, a bitter vegan
fluid was pumped into your mouth.  After a few hours I had learned to
conquer my gag reflex.

   The food was wonderful, and after dinner we just hung out in a room that
looked a lot like I imagined a harem would look like in the olden days. 
The only bad thing for me was the night.  We were all together in a dimly
lit room, giving me no opportunity to relieve the stress that had built up
between my thighs.

   On Sunday we held our graduation competition, where we all got to
display our new skills and get graded.  Sparkle coached us up, and as we
were all smart and competitive girls, we all want to be the best.  The
final part was a simulation of three different blowjobs.  The spa had
mannequins with dildos attached so that we could demonstrate our blow job
skills.  This was done by putting on VR goggles and headphones, which
allowed us to 'see' the man we were blowing.  While on your knees looking
up at the VR generated man you were blowing, it was hard not to believe it
wasn't a real man.  Different men reacted differently, and you had to
adjust your technique based on his reactions, and we had three different
scenarios.

   The first scenario for me was pretty tame, just blowing a guy in a
bedroom.  The second one was blowing a guy in a library in the stacks.  It
felt so real, my ears on alert as I listened to hear if anyone was going to
walk down our aisle and discover me.  The third one really got to me,
though.  I was on my knees in a crowd at an outdoor concert, blowing a man
while others watched and made comments.

   "Hey, she looks like she loves it!"

   "What a good slave, take him deep."

   "No, Dave, I won't, I'm not a slave."

   "Are you loaning her out?"

   The VR was quite good and it was almost believable.  Finally, when the
man 'came,' articulated hands gripped your head as you received your prize.
Bree won the final competition, with me coming in second.  The memory of
the three 'guys' I had blown stuck in my mind.  I wondered if I should
count them as actual blowjobs, since they looked like real men to me.

   Then, finally, Sparkle graded us.  It was unofficial, of course.  I got
a Prime Minus, but I certainly wouldn't be surprised if that was inflated.
I know I'm pretty, but all of us got a Prime Minus except for Jenny and
Bree who were awarded full Prime.  Sparkle mentioned that an actual grading
is much more intrusive, but I really didn't care.  She also said that if
you didn't want to become a slave, all you had to do was not orgasm. 
Failure to orgasm is taken as an indication that you either were not
sensitive enough to be a slave or are not doing it voluntarily.  I just
nodded, it's not like I was ever going to do that.  All in all the weekend
fueled an interest in our planned post prom party with the guys.  This was
going to be epic.

   The plan for the after-Prom slave party was the responsibility of the
guys.  All we knew was that after Prom finished Friday night, they would
whisk us away to start our slave weekend.  Asking questions just led to the
refrain 'slaves have questions, masters have answers.' It actually did
sound like a lot of fun, and I spent many nights fingering myself to
blissfulness as I imagined serving Matt like a good slave.  I started to
really appreciate the fantasy.  During our dates I still played it
straight, as I was not an actual slave.  He had to compliment me, hold the
door open, pay for dinner.  Afterwards I might reward him, or not if I
wasn't in the mood.  Usually I was in the mood and I really enjoyed
practicing some of my new oral skills on him.  Hoping to make him more
excited, I got him hot and bothered before I turned him down after our last
date before prom.  I told him I wanted him to get extra aggressive after
prom.  Also, I refrained from masturbating in the week leading up to the
prom, wanting to be extra sensitive for my...master.

   One day after class Matt pulled me aside.  Apparently the guys had made
some sort of bet about which of us girls was going to be the worst at
playing slave.  Matt actually seemed a bit concerned, even though he
wouldn't tell me what he bet.  He seemed worried that I would not be able
to hold up my end of the deal.  I assured him I was all in and that I
wouldn't disappoint him.  I asked him what they had planned for us and he
booped my nose.

   "Slaves have questions...," he winked and walked away.

   Prom night finally arrived and the wool was suitably pulled over
parental eyes.  They thought we were just going to the mountains for a
post-prom party, which I guess in a way we were.  I was in a blue
shoulder-baring gown, hair down like Matt liked it, makeup light but
perfect.  Matt was dashing in his tuxedo, and the other couples were as
lovely.  There was a definite sexual tension in the limo as we arrived at
the hall that was hosting the prom.  The prom was great, we danced a lot,
took plenty of pictures, but finally it was time to go.  The guys led us
out and then, in the first surprise of the night, led us further into the
building to another ballroom.

   Jason brought forth a case and we each took out a collar.  I vaguely
noticed it was a lot more substantial than the play collars we had used at
the spa, but thought nothing of it.  A pit formed in my belly as I realized
our slave party was starting.  We were in a row, the guys facing us, and we
gave our little slave speech, speaking it together as we had practiced,
committing ourselves to slavery for the weekend, and agreeing to the
punishment scale.  We handed our dates our slave collars.  One by one we
were all collared by our new masters.  Something clicked in my mind as Matt
put the collar on me.  I looked up at him and everything just felt
different.  I was no longer a girl with dreams and ambitions, I was a slave
whose only purpose was to please my master.  I felt dreamy and turned on
despite no longer being in control of my life.

   Music started playing and we danced again.  I smiled up at Matt as we
swayed across the floor, and then suddenly I felt him start to tug down my
zipper.  I tensed and glanced around, seeing Bree's zipper also being
opened, revealing her bra strap.  A flush washed over me as I felt the
zipper finally bottom out.  Matt stopped us, and with a shrug my dress fell
to the floor.  I heard similar rustles behind me, knowing that all my
friends were being similarly undressed.  Matt looked at me with a smile.

   "Slave, take care of your dress.  Go hang it up."

   He pointed to a rack across the room, and I gingerly stepped out of my
dress before collecting it and clutching it to my chest as best I could. 
Down to my bra, panties and heels, I had to walk past the other guys,
feeling their eyes on my bare skin as I passed.  I had picked my lingerie
to be seen and to inspire, but I had never considered that it would be seen
by so many.  After we had all hung up our dresses, the rack automatically
closed and locked them away.  I gasped at the realization that our slave
night really was starting.  With an embarrassed glance at the other girls
we returned to our masters, now unable to meet the eyes of the other guys
as I hurried back.

   The music started again and I finally looked back at Matt, the feel of
his tux against my mostly bare skin reinforcing the power dynamic between
us.  I felt a little light-headed and absently wondering if I was slipping
into 'slave haze.' His eyes drifted from mine, looking out at the scantily
clad girls behind me as we danced.  My heart jumped again as I felt his
hand find my bra clasp, an eager grin on his face as he opened it.  The
tension released and it fell to the floor.  He looked down at my bare
breasts for a long moment before speaking the words I feared.

   "Slave, go put your bra away with your dress."

   I kept my head down the whole way, eyes glued to the ground, following
the panty clad bottoms of my friends.  I held my bra against my breasts,
trying to shield them from view as I moved between the other guys.  I put
it in the locker over my dress and glanced at Bree, who looked as red as I
felt.  I paused before turning around, trying to control myself.  I knew
better than to cover up, although every fiber of my being desperately
wanted to.  I was about to turn, but then Mallory covered herself with her
hands and ran back, and I followed suit.  I dashed head down to Matt, hands
covering myself as I ran.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kayla and Bree
also running while covering up.  I plowed into Matt, huddling against him
for coverage, my breath coming short pants from embarrassment.

   "Slave, what are you doing," he asked.

   I looked up to him and saw a harshness in his face that hadn't been
there before.  I stuttered my apology, I knew a slave shouldn't cover up. I
dropped my hands and showed my breasts to him, hoping he would be pleased.
He wasn't.

   "Go back to your bra like a proper slave and then walk back here.  Do
not embarrass me again or you will be punished."

   I began to mouth a protest but his face hardened even more.  It was my
first indication that perhaps I had underestimated the boundaries of the
weekend.  Heart in my throat, I turned around, forcing my arms at my side.
I walked to the lockers at a measured pace, noting that all the girls
except for Ash were also being sent back.  I tried to keep my eyes ahead,
trying not to glance at the guys staring at my chest as I passed them.  I
had walked around topless before, alone of course, but somehow had never`
noticed just how much my breasts jiggled as I walked.  My face was burning
in embarrassment, made worse from the knowledge that my nipples were hard.
I touched the locker, took a deep breath, and turned to return to Matt. 
Looking in his eyes as I approached, he seemed satisfied.

   "Good slave," he grinned as I returned to his embrace, and I basked in
his approval.  We danced some more, and then he whispered in my ear the
words I was expecting.  "Time to get slave naked."

   As he knelt before me I could see the same thing happening to the other
girls, their masters slowly pulling down their panties.  I had expected him
to have me take my panties back to the locker, but instead he folded them
carefully and put them in his pocket.

   "Now I think it is time to meet the other guests," he said.  I was still
processing being naked in a large room when he took me by my hand and
turned us to face Adam and Mallory.  "Adam, how are you doing this fine
evening?" he started.

   My panicked eyes remained on the floor as I curled into Matt, half aware
of Mallory doing the same thing.  My knees were shaking so bad I thought I
was going to fall down.  I hadn't even realized I was covering myself with
my other hand until Matt stopped me and forced me to stand correctly, arms
by my side, back straight, facing Adam.  A haze descended over my mind as I
stood there, naked and on display as they talked.  It barely registered as
Matt guided us over to talk to Jason and Bree.  For the first time I truly
appreciated the term 'slave naked,' standing before fully dressed men while
my body was exposed to their eyes.  This little game went on until each
couple had met all the others.  I had no idea what words had been exchanged
between Matt and the other guys, I was just silent eye candy.  I was so
lost in my own world I barely noticed the other girls, probably going
through the same hell as me.  Matt's gentle caress of my bare bottom jolted
me out of my malaise and I looked up to him, still too stunned to speak.

   "You're doing very well, slave.  I'm proud of you.  Over here."

   "I'm proud of you." Somehow I took that statement and held onto it, as
if it was the biggest compliment in the world.  He walked us over to a pair
of tables, and I noticed the other girls were there too.  One by one we
were helped up, Matt taking a firm grip of my bottom to lift me.

   "Make me proud," he whispered as he stepped back.

   I looked down at the guys, acutely aware of my exposure as I stood on
the table.

   "Okay, slaves, slave pose one."

   I'm not even sure who said it, but ice raced through my veins.  Slave
pose one.  The first and simplest pose, but all I wanted to do was drop to
the floor and cover myself.  From the corner of my eye I saw Ash strike the
pose, then to my left Bree.  I took a breath a got into position, fingers
laced behind my head, chin level, feet shoulder width apart.  Completely
exposed.

   "Moaner, back!" snapped Jason, using Mallory's slave name.

   Although directed at Mallory, I also arched my back further to stick my
chest out more and noticed Jenny adjusting her pose also.  One of the guys
let out a low whistle, the smiles on their faces evident even though I
wasn't looking at them.  They nodded as they looked at us, slowly walking
around, taking time to study each of our bodies while we stood there like
living statues.  Like good slaves.  Part of my mind was screaming to cover
up, but instead I held my pose as some of the guys walked behind us.  My
legs were trembling and I tried to focus on holding my position.  I knew
from their position they could see right up between my legs but I couldn't
do anything about that without breaking my pose.

   The guys took their time admiring us, chuckling amongst themselves.

   "Slaves, slave pose three."

   I transitioned from standing to bent over in half, fingers on the table
between my feet.  The change in perspective was dizzying, as now my face
was below them as they checked us out.  Watching guys look at my crotch was
deeply unnerving, but Matt again whispered encouragement to me from behind
my head.  Frankly, I was amazed I was holding myself together.  I wondered
if we were going to go through all the poses, but then the next instruction
came out

   "Slave pose two."

   I sank, having to catch myself after the quick change in orientation. 
Suddenly my body rebelled, and I couldn't seem to get into position.  I
fell to my knees, my hands palm up on my thighs as they were supposed to
be, but my thighs remained stubbornly clenched together.  The guys started
to cluster in front of me.  I glanced helplessly up to see Matt looking
displeased.

   "Slave, slave pose two!"

   I shook my head but the look on his face hardened.

   "Now!"

   David made a comment on how I was a poor representation of Matt. 
Somehow my resolve hardened, as I did not want to reflect badly on Matt.  I
gave in, my knees slowly parting.  Finally, I got into position, knees
spread wide, hands on my thighs, chest out, wide open for them.  The guys
wasted no time in looking us over, eyes locked on our most private parts.

   "Well," quipped David, "At least she's slave wet for you."

   I almost slammed my legs shut at that comment, realizing it was true.  I
was wet.  Despite everything, I was completely aroused.

   "Dripping, in fact," Adam agreed.

   The guys walked behind us and then came back with leashes.  Matt clipped
a leash to my collar with a severe look on his face and I whispered my
apology to him.  He grabbed the leash very close to my collar and leaned
in, face inches from mine.  I was so focused on his eyes that I didn't see
his hand move until it stroked my pussy gently.  My squeak wasn't the only
one.

   "At least you're slave wet," he growled and then tugged me off the
table.

   We were led over to another wardrobe where leather cuffs were produced,
and we were all cuffed with our hands behind our backs.  Next the guys
covered us in red Slave Robes.  At this point I expected to be taken up to
a room and thoroughly used.  Instead we were led out the back of the hotel
to a waiting limousine and ushered in.

   No sooner were we in than Matt divested me of my robe and pulled me into
his lap.  One hand was on my breast, the other hand pulled me forward and
he kissed me.  I dove into our kissing, pouring out my passions through my
mouth and tongue, and he reciprocated.  My hips were humping the air as I
knelt astride his lap, delirious with arousal.  Without even breaking the
kiss he repositioned me so my back was against his chest, my legs falling
outside of his.  I was completely on display as he continued to kiss me
while caressing my naked body.  My hands, still cuffed behind my back,
managed to find his thickening cock and tried to stroke it.  He broke our
kiss and looked out over my shoulder.  I followed, witnessing the other
girls in the same position as me, lewdly exposed to the eyes of the other
guys.  I moaned as he fondled my nipples, unable to tear my eyes away from
the debauchery going on in the limo.

   "Now go welcome Sam," he growled into my ear, pushing me off of his lap.

   I looked at him in confusion, suddenly on my feet along with the other
five girls.  He gave a push on my hip, eyes already up at Jenny, and I
staggered into Sam.  Sam caught my hip and guided me down to straddle his
legs.  He wasted no time in pulling me forward for a kiss and his other
hand groped my bare ass.  I resisted for a few moments but then gave in, my
lips parting to allow our tongues to do battle.  I was a slave.  I had to
please him.  His hands roamed my body freely, caressing me wherever he
wanted.  At some unseen signal the guys traded us again, and then again and
again until I was back with Matt.  By this time, I was a panting mess.  Was
this slave haze?

   Matt pushed me to my knees between his legs and opened his trousers.

   "I heard you came in second in oral skills.  Let's see."

   He pulled his already hardening cock out and pulled me in with his other
hand.  I started to suck him, eyes dutifully in his as I worked.  A thought
flashed through my head -"was I going to be passed around again? -"and a
frisson of excitement coursed through me at the thought, mortifying as it
was.  The limo filled with the sounds of slurping, the odor of female
arousal, and words of encouragement from the guys.  I put all my newly
learned skills to work as I tried to impress him, even deepthroating him,
which earned an impressed nod.  I didn't get passed around, instead he let
me earn my reward, and he finally came, filling my mouth with his seed.  I
stuck out my tongue to show him and then swallowed.  Matt pulled me up to
his lap for a kiss and a cuddle.  I hoped he would recover soon and give me
the pounding I needed.

   I was so turned on that I was no longer thinking clearly, but slowly
realized that the other girls were also up in their dates' laps.  All were
naked like me, save for their collar and cuffs.  My eyes drifted to see my
collar in a reflection.  I was his slave for the weekend.  I was no longer
Christie the honor roll girl heading for college, I was Cummy Cat, and I
was his to do with as he pleased.  Had he wanted to pass me off to one of
the other guys, I wouldn't have any way to complain.  Another shiver ran
down my spine.  I was a slave.  I suddenly felt free, free from
expectations and dreams.  All I had to do was what my master told me.  Had
I always wanted this?

   I noticed Jason pulling something out and soon found Matt dressing me in
a very revealing red silk slave outfit, over the shoulders to just below my
bottom, with a vee dropping to my navel.  I was naked underneath and
displaying almost my entire body, my wrists still cuffed behind my back. 
The limo stopped, and we were led out by our leashes into a garage of
sorts. When everyone was out, we were led through a door into a hall and
then another ballroom.  With other people.  I instinctively recoiled as my
brain processed the scene in front of me.  There were people here.  Lots of
people.  Matt snapped my leash.

   "Behave, slave," he hissed, even as he continued to walk in.

   I tried to regain my posture and soon we were standing in front of
another couple, around our age.  Matt greeted the other man and gently
cupped my bare bottom.  The man was also dressed in a tux, the girl wore a
collar and was dressed in slave silk like me, only hers was blue.  She was
gorgeous and batted her eyes at Matt.  I took the cue and did my best to
stand proud and smiled at the other guy as Matt talked to him.  I looked at
the girl.  Her nipples were just visible through the silk, as I suspected
mine were.  I tried to push my chest out a little more.  Soon Matt led us
to another couple, then another.  I couldn't help but compare myself to the
other slaves.  Sometimes I felt as pretty, other times out-classed.  The
men did not try to hide their appreciation of our nearly naked bodies.  I
hoped I measured up.  I felt the haze descend on my mind again.  I was a
slave, being shown off to other masters.  I wanted to look the best for my
master, to reflect well on him.

   Another master.  Then another.  A bell rang.  Matt moved me in front of
the other master who casually parted my silk to expose my breasts.  He
nodded in appreciation and I couldn't help but blush, but stood firm, an
embarrassed smile on my face even after he pulled it back into place.  I
was a slave, and my master could let me be fondled.  I vaguely noted Matt
doing the same thing to the other slave.  Matt shook hands with the other
guy and then handed him my leash, taking the leash of the other girl.  Matt
turned to me.

   "Meet your new master," he said, then walked away with the other slave.

   I was bewildered, my eyes wide as I watched Matt walk away.  My new
master snapped my leash without a word and just led me over to another
couple.  The other slave looked much more serene than I felt.  My mind was
racing.  Had I just been traded?  I was a slave for this weekend, but had
expected to be Matt's slave.  The collar would not come off until Sunday
afternoon, I was a slave until then.  I had just been traded to another
man! I had no idea who he was, only that he was holding my leash and
cupping my bare bottom with his other hand.  I tried to stand still as this
man...no, master...acquainted himself with my rear.  Is this how it felt
being a slave?  Being given to another man?  I would have to serve him
perfectly.  I had no choice, I was a slave.  An involuntary shiver settled
in into my belly, and lower.  So many men had seen my body, and all I could
do was smile at them.  I was a slave.  I glanced at my new master, looking
regal in his tux.  This time he did not lead me to another couple, just
stepped away and pulled me into his arms.

   "Kiss me," he ordered.

   I raised up on my tippy toes and kissed him, letting my passion flow out
through my tongue.  His strength, his power, my weakness, all combined into
a potent mix, intoxicating me.  The feel of his jacket against my nearly
bare skin.  The collar on my neck.  Long suppressed yearning surfaced.  I
was his slave.

   All across the ballroom, masters and their slaves were filtering out. 
By the time I noticed, the place was half empty already.  He led by my
leash to an elevator, and presently we were in his room.  He let my leash
fall and turned me around.

   "Let's get a better look at you," he smiled, uncuffing me and then he
took a seat on the bed.  "Strip."

   I recalled the lessons from the slave spa and began to dance to a tune
in my head, easing my garment off as seductively as possible.  His eyes
glowed in appreciation.  My back to him, the tunic fell to the floor, and
moments later I followed.  I then crawled over to him, looking up from
between his thighs, eager to please.  The lessons I had learned at the spa
on how to look lustfully at your master were pointless: in my slave haze
the lustful looks I was giving him were completely genuine .  He gave a
subtle nod and I fumbled with his pants.

   I could feel his hard throbbing cock beneath the fabric.  I opened his
zipper and drew down his boxer shorts, marveling at his cock, his growing
erection.  I kissed the tip of his dick, then licked it like a lollipop,
staring up into his eyes as I wrapped my small hand around his dick.  His
cock was thick and my fingers didn't quite meet when they encircled him.

   My eager mouth strayed further.  I licked the length of his rigid shaft,
from his head to his balls.  Finally, I drew him into my mouth, pressing my
tongue against the sensitive underside of the head and then twirling around
it.  I pulled the air out of my mouth, applying all the suction I could. 
He smiled a sigh of satisfaction, and I leaned ahead, taking his full cock
deep into my throat.  I settled into a rhythm, looking into his eyes as I
sucked his cockhead, then taking him all the way into my throat.  His hands
reached out to control my head as I worked, doing my best to please him,
trying to read his signals.  Finally, one signal was unmistakable as his
hands tightened on my head.  Moments later I got my reward as he grunted
and my mouth filled with his bitter, delicious seed.  I opened my mouth to
show him and then swallowed, scooping a drop that had escaped back to my
mouth.

   "Fuck, you're good," he grinned appreciatively.  He tucked himself back
into his pants.  "Dance for me."

   I smiled as I complied, his eyes on me as I tried to communicate my need
to him through my dance.  He stood and walked around me, appreciating me
from all angles.  I was high on lust, my entire body tingling.  I was a
slave, desperately trying to please her master.  My heart jumped as he
began undressing, eyes still on me.  I turned, mentally urging him on,
watching his face in the mirror.  He was staring at my bottom and I did the
best I could to wriggle it suggestively.  It seemed to work.  Down to just
his trousers, he seized me and threw me on the bed, pouncing on me an
instant later.  He kissed me and I kissed him, totally surrendering to my
master.

   A small voice in the back of my head wondered if I should be a bit more
cautious, but it was loudly overruled by my desire.  Besides, I had been
working hard all year, it was time to enjoy myself.  Right now, that meant
embracing my role as a seductive, brainless slave girl.

   "What are you, Cummy Cat?" he growled into my ear.

   "Your slave, sir," I moaned in response.

   The answer seemed correct.  He had shucked his pants and pushed into me
as I made my declaration, legs spread wide.  A few strokes later he had
slammed his way completely home, filling me deliciously.  Then he really
started to fuck me.  Fast, hard thrusts.  I seemed to let myself fall away,
like my brain was leaking out of my pussy.  Sex had never been this good.
Perhaps I had been repressing myself?  I came just from being fucked,
shivering as I held on to him, his pace not slowing.  He flipped me over
and mounted me from behind, smacking my ass and grabbing my hair.  He
pulled my head back; I was just a helpless toy as he pounded me.

   "What are you, Cummy Cat?" he growled into my ear.

   "I'm a slave, sir," I moaned in response.

   "Again!'

   "I'm a slave!  I'm a...slave!" I cried, climaxing again as I declared
it.

   My collar beeped three times.

   My orgasm raged on and on, reaching a new crescendo as he came inside of
me, his hot cum coating my inner walls.  We collapsed to the bed,
breathless, exhausted, as I continued to shake.  Darkness swept over me and
I fell asleep in his arms.  It was still dark when he woke me, hard and
ready to use me again.  Despite my soreness, I was immediately awake and
aroused, and he mounted me with no difficulty.  I wrapped my arms and legs
around him as he fucked me, and to my amazement I was racing to another
orgasm.

   "You are going to make an amazing slave for some master," he whispered
in my ear.

   I heard him, protesting in the back of my mind, but started to come
again.  All my concerns were washed away in my release, amplified by his.
We fell asleep again.  This time I was awakened by a knock on the door.

   "Answer it, Cummy Cat," he said as he nudged me.  "Room service."

   Naked, and still half asleep, I stumbled out of bed.  I frantically
lookedaround for something to cover myself with, but found nothing.

   "Answer the door, slave," he ordered.

   Deciding I had no choice, I answered the door, peeking out carefully to
see the waiter.

   "Room service," he said, and pushed in the cart.

   I was now naked and trapped between the door and the room service guy!
He stopped and turned to leave, but paused to study me.  I covered myself
as best I could, letting go of the door, which promptly swung shut.  I
frantically reached out to catch it, exposing myself again.  Basically, I
had one hand to hold the door and one hand to cover myself, which just
wasn't enough.  He patiently waited until I settled, arm across my boobs.

   "Will there be anything else?"

   "No...sir," I stuttered.

   He looked me over once more and then walked out.  I closed the door and
let out a humiliated groan.  I scampered back to bed, only to be stopped by
my master.  In the harsh light of day, now fully awake, the situation was
surreal.  Here I was, naked, in the hotel room of a man whose name I didn't
know, role-playing master and slave.  I couldn't help but cover myself
again.

   "Slave," he sighed, "Position two."

   Our eyes locked for a moment and then I dropped to the floor, knees
apart, hands palm up on my thighs, back straight.

   I was shocked at how easily the movement came.  Here I was, exposing all
my charms to a man I didn't know.  But, that man was my master.  It felt
right to obey, and I quietly reassured myself it was only for another day.

   "Yes master," I replied.

   "Is my slave supposed to cower in the presence of a guest?"

   "I...no sir.  I'm sorry, sir.  I...I'm still getting used to things."

   "We'll discuss your punishment later.  Right now I am hungry.  Feed me."

   And so I did.  We ate, frolicked, and played.  Then we took a shower. 
He took me again, bending over, his hard cock pounding me as the showerhead
pelted my clit.  He talked dirty to me, telling me what a good slave I was,
and my release was once again monumental.  I came so hard I collapsed, and
we finished on the floor.  When we were done, we dried off and went back to
the room.  He put me on the room's rolled arm chair, one leg draped over
each arm, my legs spread lewdly.

   "Play with yourself, but don't come.  I want you nice and wet for me."

   "Oh, I'm slave wet for you, sir," I smiled, doing as he bid, watching
him get dressed.  He then opened his laptop and began working.

   "Did you say you were Prime Minus?" he asked.

   "Yes sir, have I not been pleasing?"

   "Oh, you most definitely have."

   "But it wasn't a real grading, it was just at a spa."

   "Oh, interesting.  So I'll have to schedule that."

   "What?"

   "To get you properly graded.  It's required for sale."

   "For sale?"

   "Why yes, you're a slave, and I can't keep you, much as I would like to.
I'm not that rich yet."

   "But...you mean like tonight?"

   The absent thought of me, naked on a stage in the ballroom in front of
the other men as they bid on me raced through my mind, thrilling me.  The
finger circling my clit sped up at the idea as he studied his screen, lost
in thought for a minute.

   "No, it takes longer to schedule things.  Probably next week, so I'll
have some time to enjoy you."

   "But tomorrow this is over, and I will go home..."

   He looked at me, puzzled.

   "You're a slave now, Cummy Cat."

   My confused look must have shown.

   "Last night, you declared yourself a slave and came.  The collar
detected it and locked."

   "What?" I gaped.

   I was still rubbing myself, until the realization of what he had said
sank in.  I reached up and tugged fruitlessly at the collar.

   "You're a slave now, Cummy Cat."

   "No, I can't be!" I exclaimed.  "What would my mom think?"

   "You're an adult now, you make your own decisions."

   "You're kidding, right?"

   "Really?  Come here," he said, standing.

   I walked over to him, still tugging on the collar.  He turned me to face
the mirror.

   "See these three green LEDs?  They illuminated when you declared
yourself a slave and then locked when you came."

   "But, but, but...I can't be a slave, I have to go to college!"

   "Some masters send their slaves to college," he shrugged.

   "No please, I can't be a slave, please!" I pleaded and then panicked,
yanking furiously at the collar.

   "Whoa, easy there.  I guess you didn't know about collars?"

   "What?  No, please!  Please, I'll do anything, please!"

   I fell to my knees, looking up at him, begging him not to enslave me. 
"I'll do anything, let's just pretend it didn't happen!  I didn't mean it!"

   "Cummy Cat, no.  It's out of my hands, really, the collar is locked.  It
sent your enslavement information out already.  I'm just the lucky guy who
gets to profit from you."

   I became somewhat hysterical.  Finally, he took pity on me.

   "They did say that if there is a problem, there is a guy on station that
we can talk to."

   "Yes, yes please!  Please talk to him."

   He took me over to the bed and then cuffed my wrist to one corner.

   "What are you doing?" I asked.

   "Well, I'm going to step out to get the guy, can't really leave you here
in your current state.  You might hurt yourself," he explained as he cuffed
my other wrist.

   "No, I'll be good, I promise!"

   "Hush, Cummy Cat, it's for your own good."

   Moments later my ankles were also restrained, leaving me naked and
spreadeagled on the bed.  He then placed a blindfold over my eyes.

   "Are you going to need a gag?"

   I was about to say no, but as I opened my mouth he pushed in a ball and
tied it behind my head.  Next, he caressed my helpless body while talking
softly to me, reassuring me that he would try to help, soothing me. 
Finally, he put earbuds on me and the gentle sounds of waves lapping was
all I could hear.  I felt him stand up, and then...nothing.  I was utterly
helpless, alone in my tiny world.  I wasn't even sure if he had left, how
would I know?  Time began to stretch and my mind wandered.  I found it odd
that I wasn't really panicking.  I felt strangely at ease, despite my fate
being now in the hands of a stranger.  I hoped my master could find the man
and allow me to go home, not become a slave.  What would my mom think?

   I envisioned how I must look, naked, spreadeagled, my hairless pussy on
display, helpless on the bed.  I nudged my chin down, feeling the collar
around my neck.  I imagined my master had already returned, and he and the
man were looking at me.  Maybe he brought in a couple other guys?  I
slipped into a fantasy of being a slave, tied to the bed at a frat house,
waiting for the first of my night's lovers to join me.  I drifted further,
thinking about getting sold, naked in front of dozens of men, all bidding
on me.  Being forced to pose for them, to dance.  I wished I could touch
myself, I was getting completely turned on.  I thought about being
purchased by a rich, young man, who would take me with him on business
trips to use my body every night.  Being gifted to other men as a way to
seal the deal.  Getting used over the conference room table, the city
outside the window.  Helpless, all I could do was lay there and wait as
these nasty thoughts filled my mind.

   Finally, midway through another fantasy of getting fucked, who knows how
much later, I felt a breeze.  Moments later the bed creaked and then the
earbuds were pulled off.  My blindfold was lifted and I opened my eyes to
see an older man, like my father's age, dressed in a nice shirt, appraising
me.  My master stood off to the side.  The man looked terribly important,
and he placed a hand on my upper thigh.  I whimpered in humiliation.  I
couldn't help but blush at my exposure to yet another man.  He turned to my
master.

   "Could you get us a towel, please?"

   He then busied himself with undoing my gag.  By the time he had
finished, my master had returned with a towel from the bathroom, which he
draped over me.  I was grateful for the coverage, scant as it was, and I
thanked him.

   "I understand you are having some difficulty?"

   "Yes sir," I said.  "I can't be a slave."

   He reached up and held the collar.  "Your collar says otherwise."

   "It was a mistake, I didn't know it was real.  I was just getting into
my role!"

   He paused, collecting his thoughts for a moment, a mildly amused look on
his face.

   "Hm.  Be that as it may, you are in an official collar.  Why did you
change your mind?"

   "I...I mean I don't know?" I scrambled, trying to explain.

   He nodded.  "I'll have to examine you."

   He turned to my master and motioned to me, and my master pulled the
towel off of me.  The man fondled one breast and then toyed with my nipple,
then repeated it on my other breast.  He lowered his hand and then casually
slid a thick finger into me.  I gasped in pleasure.  He slid it out and
then back in, this time with two fingers, his thumb resting on my clit.  My
hips spasmed, a bolt of pleasure running through me.

   "Well, you certainly are slave wet," he remarked.

   "Please, I'll do anything," I begged, barely holding back a moan.

   "Anything?  Even agree to be his slave?"

   "I...I mean, anything to not be a slave.  I don't want my mother to find
out."

   Having him touch me while my body was ludicrously sensitive was not
helping my thought process at all.  His eyes suddenly narrowed, and he
reached for my collar with his other hand.

   "Interesting," he mused.  "It looks like the collar did not complete the
upload."

   "What does that mean?" I asked.

   "Well...," he said, leaning over to his bag on the floor, "it means that
there was an error." He retrieved a device from his bag and deftly
manipulated it with one hand, his other hand occupied by and occupying my
pussy.  He held it near the collar.  "Yes, the upload did not happen.  It
means, dear, that as of now the only people who know you are a slave are in
this room.  Odd."

   "Can we keep it that way?" I begged, my hips squirming again.

   He sighed.  "Well, the collar is locked.  If you leave the room, the
upload will happen.  I guess we are in a dead spot?" he asked himself,
looking around.

   "Can the collar be removed?" I asked.

   He paused for a moment in thought and then nodded.

   "Please, take it off!" He paused, undecided.  "Please," I begged. 
"I...I'll pay you?" This led him to crack a smile.  His eyes wandered down
my naked body.  My hips seemed to have a mind of their own, insisting on
grinding on his hand.

   "You...um...I can give you a blow job?" He shook his head with a small
grin.

   "While I would love to take you up on your generous offer, the thing is,
I can't.  My license could be revoked for tampering with a locked collar."

   "Please?" I whimpered, actually approaching a climax while I tried to
convince them.

   "But, actually, the procedure is somewhat simple with the right tool."
He held up the device again.  "And, clumsily, I am going to gather my
things and go to my room, but forget my PAK-12 here.  Where anyone," he
gave a knowing look to my master, "could be convinced to use it."

   My head snapped over to my master, who was staring at the man in
surprise.  The man nodded and slowly pulled his fingers out of me with a
squelch, leaving me empty and right on the edge of a massive orgasm.  He
licked his fingers clean and then showed my master how to manipulate the
device.  Then, with one last look at my body, he turned to leave.

   "I'll be back in about ten minutes, to get that thing I forgot," he
said, and left the room.

   Silence filled the room as I looked at my master, still staring at the
device in his hand.  He finally looked at me.

   "Will you unlock the collar?" I asked.

   "Well, um..."

   "Please?"

   "I...I'll lose out on a finder's fee," he said firmly.  My heart jolted,
realizing that my fate was now it this stranger's hands.  I knew I had
little bargaining power.  His eyes drifted across my nude body.  I seized
what little power I had.

   "Please, we'll keep it just between us.  I'll be your fuck toy all
summer."

   That seemed to get his attention.

   "How about this, since I don't actually live that close.  You'll
role-play as my fuck toy, my slave, for one year.  I'll come down to visit
you a few times in college, but other than that you'll be on your own."

   This sounded like the most wonderful deal imaginable!  It was my one way
out of this predicament.  I readily agreed, promising to be the best fuck
toy ever.  He added another condition, I wasn't allowed a boyfriend.  For
this he agreed to take the collar off and keep my secret.  At the end of
the year he would destroy all the evidence.

   "This is probably the worst financial decision of my life," he muttered,
and pressed the appropriate keys.  My collar beeped.  He smiled at me and
then removed it from my neck.  I was elated, relieved, but also extremely
turned on.

   "Fuck me, Sir," I moaned, eager to show him my appreciation, rocking my
hips for him.

   He quickly undressed and then untied my ankles.  He hooked his arms
under my legs and mounted me.  I groaned as he entered me, my needy pussy
finally full.  In no time I was racing to a long-denied climax.  There was
a knock on the door and the man came in again.  I looked at him with dazed
eyes, caught in the moment.

   "Forgot my PAK-12," he smiled, taking it from the bed beside me, his
eyes drinking in my body, my breast jiggling with every thrust from my
master.  He turned to go.

   "Hey, you want to get your blowjob now?" my master asked, still pounding
me.

   It sounded like a brilliant idea to me, a way to pay back the two men
who had rescued me.  I nodded in agreement.  In a moment I had been untied
and placed on all fours.  My master remounted me from behind, and the man
fed me his dick, taking control of my head.  They worked both ends of me,
and my long awaited orgasm finally crested.  My frenzy raged on and all as
they rutted on me, holding up my limp body, using me for their pleasure.

   My master finally roared, cumming deep inside my pussy, and it took all
the focus I had left to finish off the man in my mouth.  Fortunately, he
did not take too long and I received my reward, swallowing it as best I
could.  I collapsed face forward, utterly spent.

   "God damn, you would have made an excellent slave," the man sighed,
patting my head.  A wave of darkness swept over me, and I fell asleep.

   *** Six months later ***

   I knelt in my dorm room, facing the door, wearing only my slave tunic.
My master would be here shortly.  I was already dripping in anticipation,
weeks of celibacy priming me for this moment.  I took another deep breath,
hoping he would use me immediately, knowing his plans for me were his
alone. My mind drifted back over the past few months.

   I had kept my secret, and as far as I knew, so had my master.  Even
amongst us girls, I had told no one, just giggled and shrugged when asked
about that weekend.  Most the other girls did too, though Ash loved going
into detail.  I had broken up with Matt right away, acting indigent at how
he disposed of me, but it was all a show.  I was trapped in a new
relationship and was no longer allowed to have a boyfriend.

   College had been tough, tougher than I expected.  Considering the
requirements my master bound me by, I mostly stayed in and studied instead
of partying, but still school was tough.  An endless series of demanding
deadlines, always feeling behind.  I had just completed midterms, and they
were absolutely brutal, the preparation as well as the test.  Seeing my
master was like a vacation, Thinking back on in, every time he visited was
like a vacation.  It was like I loved being his slave.  The though struck
me like a lightening bolt: I loved being a slave?  Am I really a slave at
heart?

   The door opened and my heart fluttered as my master entered.  Enough of
thinking for me, now was time to please my master.  I smiled in genuine
happiness.