Naked Slave Submission
by G-string_Vixen ©

The humiliation is almost unbearable; lust filled eyes roam freely over my 
naked body and roving hands unashamedly examine me like a piece of ripe 
fruit on a market stall. I am afforded neither modesty nor dignity; I'm 
made to stand exposed and vulnerable, my legs shoulder width apart, giving 
my voyeuristic audience an unobstructed view of my bare sex. No sensuous 
curve or intimate nook of my honey skin is spared from the critical gaze 
of potential bidders; all of whom leisurely take their time to inspect me. 


Of course not every Spartan wandering the streets is permitted to savor 
the spectacle of me naked and bound for their viewing pleasure. The atrium 
in which I am displayed is strictly reserved for members only. A slave of 
my talents and appearance is an expensive luxury, which few can readily 
afford. My lithe, supple form is not educated to toil in fields or to work 
in hot kitchens; I am trained purely for pleasure. My duties are the most 
primal of all: I am a Sex Slave and only the richest and most powerful 
members of the city are allowed to examine and probe me. However this 
morning there is certainly no shortage of them! The enclosed market place 
is bustling with shoppers, each scrutinizing the flesh on offer with great 
enthusiasm. 

To my embarrassment the stall upon which I am displayed is attracting an 
unprecedented amount of attention. There is a seemingly endless stream of 
randy, young studs who wish to study me. Each one it seems trying to out 
do the others in making me blush. Every potential owner desires an 
increasingly graphic account of my sexual talents and their examination of 
my body is ever more invasive. 

I desperately want to cover myself and hide my silken flesh from their 
intrusive demands, but I'm neither able nor would I dare attempt such 
disobedience. As a slave in the ancient world I am aware of the 
precariousness of my situation. I have no rights no freedoms; to these 
people I am nothing more than an object, an object of sexual 
gratification. This is my place in society and I have learnt it well. 

Every morning at sun rise I have to repeat the slave girl oath: an 
admission of my total servitude and submission to my masters. This is part 
of the enslavement process, brainwashing me into unquestioning loyalty and 
obedience. Not that I need to be reminded of my fragile position. Even by 
slave standards Sex Slaves rank as the most subservient. Even other 
slaves' treat us servants and our treatment is designed to be the most 
explicit and degrading. We're not even permitted clothing! At the very 
least most slaves are afforded the luxury of a g-string or loin cloth, but 
not us. Since my enslavement I have been kept permanently naked every inch 
of me on display for the pleasure of others. And as if this wasn't enough. 
In order to heighten my exposure I have been completely waxed from the 
neck down so that even the velvet lips of my sex are not afforded the 
merest hint of pubic hair to protect them. 

The next voyeurs to inspect me are a group of three outrageously hot young 
guys. They are all in their early twenties and the trip to the luxury 
slave market is clearly still something of a novelty to them. It is 
obvious from their swollen loins that they are thrilled by the sight of 
hot, helpless females and I can tell from their youthful exuberance that 
they will take great satisfaction in making me squirm. 

They are dressed in loose, linen or silk pants and their impressive torsos 
are proudly on display. They are all tanned and toned to perfection, with 
thick, rippling pecs and taut, hard abs, which set my pulse racing. From 
the moment their before me their hands wander lustfully over my body, 
fondling my tender flesh with wild abandonment. My apple shaped breasts 
are massaged and caressed like sweet, summer fruit and their prominent 
peaks are tweaked and teased, causing me to moan involuntarily. This 
entices the lean limbed males to test me further. Having tasted my 
vulnerability they now wish to delve deeper into my secrets. 

Commandingly one of the studs orders me to turn around and present my rear 
to him. Instantly I obey turn to show my bum to my audience. However, this 
is not enough and I am ordered to spread my legs further apart and bend 
forward so that my butt is sticking out invitingly, offering them an 
explicit view between my tender thighs. 

This is not an opportunity to be missed and the guys eagerly gather around 
my exposed rear, subjecting it to the same thorough fondling as my 
breasts. They squeeze and knead my buns like dough, commenting on how 
perky they are. Then without warning a hand suddenly lands down hard upon 
my exposed rump. I cry out and lose my balance, falling into the arms of 
one of the men. He holds me firmly and my reddened cheeks are exposed to 
another sound spank. In hope of a reprieve I stare up weakly into his 
crystal, green eyes, almost begging him to protect me from his friends. 
However I can see the flaming lust in his expression and I know that my 
soft, girlish squeaks are eliciting no sympathy. His heavy breathes betray 
how arousing he is finding my spanking. He like all the others is 
delighting in the absolute power he has over me and I know I can expect no 
leniency from him. Against this violation of my delicate form, I see that 
there is no defence. All I can do is blush and squeak in response, 
confirming their authority over me. After a few minutes of punishing my 
backside and making me squeal the boys move on to examining my more 
intimate secrets. My stinging buns are parted and to my embarrassment they 
start to discuss my pussy and ass. My whole body tenses as I feel their 
uninhibited fingers graze my bum hole and venture onwards towards my 
velvet peals. 

I brace myself in anticipation of their probing, but much to my relief one 
of the slave dealers stops them before they have time to explore me 
further. The market rules state that bidders aren't allowed to violate the 
slave girls' orifices before purchase and begrudgingly my tormentors are 
told to release me. They were obviously hoping to explore my body more 
thoroughly and I dare not imagine what they'd have done had the slave 
dealer not intervened. 

For the next few hours I am subjected to numerous examinations, by a 
multitude of inquisitors. Men, women, couples. All come to subject me some 
form of humiliation. I'd hoped that after the first few infringements of 
my body I'd become accustomed to being degraded, but that is not the case. 
The cheeks of my face are as red as those of my rear and every degradation 
seems to make me glow with shame. 

I need a knight in shining armor to come and rescue me, but by the early 
afternoon I'm starting to lose hope. However, it is at this moment when it 
happens when he arrives! I hear a commotion on the other side of the 
atrium, signaling that some one of importance has arrived. Breaking the 
rules I dare a glance and am treated to the glorious sight of a bronze 
clad Greek hero. Despite the crowd around him I can see his high crested 
helmet towering above them. I have heard many tales of such heroes and 
their insatiable sexual antics. Of slave girls who are possessions of such 
men and how they are taken to their bed chambers and ravaged again and 
again; forced to submit their fragile bodies to any and all sexual desires 
of these powerful stallions. I myself have dreamt on many occasions of 
having my lithe, body pillaged throughout the night, as I buck and squirm 
in the strong arms of such a hero and my heart is pounding with excitement 
at the prospect of being inspected by one. Suddenly he looks in my 
direction and for one intense second our eyes meet. 

Without even a glance at the other females he strides over to me, covering 
in three or four paces the distance it would take a normal man twenty. 
Despite my training I step back as he approaches both embarrassed by my 
nudity and terrified by his sheer presence. Alone he stands at, at least 
6'5" but clad in his high crested, horse hair helmet he strikes a gigantic 
6'8" or 6'9" and he towers over me, like a titan. His imposing form 
dominating the space in front of me. He is without doubt the most 
magnificent figure I have ever laid eyes upon. He muscles are lean and 
well defined and his physic is tight and athletic, toned by the tides of 
war. Had I not been naked and bound I would have been helpless before such 
a man, my slender form no match for a stallion of his strength. 

Unlike the others that have viewed me that morning he doesn't ogle my 
breasts or waxed sex. His dark, intense eyes are fixed firmly on mine and 
despite the slave girl rules I stare back trapped like a rabbit in a torch 
light. I am completely captivated and I stand in awe of him. 

For what seems like a life time I stare mesmerized into his deep, dreamy, 
brown eyes. Before I even have time to register that he has purchased me I 
am swept up in his arms and carried in an adrenaline fuelled daze away 
from the market to his encampment. 

I am taken into his large, luxurious, purple tent and lain down gently on 
a bed of velvet and silk cushions. It's all like a dream, lying there at 
his knees and I melt as he unexpectedly kisses me, our lips connecting 
with bittersweet fervor. 

Surrounded by his broad shoulders and tight, biceps I submit myself to his 
zealous hunger. Our tongues dance together, thrusting, tangling, 
searching, duelling in a battle of desire. Until after one final, long 
drugged kiss he leaves me to undress. 

I lie back on the soft cushions and admire the show as he strips. He looks 
magnificent in his armor but I'm dying to see what lies beneath. 
Fortunately I don't have to wait long. With the skills he's honed on a 
thousand campaigns he sheds his bronze breast plate with ease, treating me 
to the smooth olive, expanse of streamlined muscle beneath. His 
wonderfully broad chest is quite a sight and my mind races with salacious 
fantasies.

His armor is immediately followed by his silk, toga skirt leaving him in 
only a small, tight fitting pair of white shorts. They do mouth-wateringly 
little to cover his hot, bronzed skin, but tease me like crazy. They sit 
low on his hips leaving a rope of taut v-shaped muscle where his wash 
board abs meet his powerful thighs, enticing my eyes towards his groin. 

He can sense my anticipation and he teases me by leisurely taking his 
time. I lick my lips with desire and my eyes light up like stars as I 
watch his hands slip into the waistband of his shorts. Everything seems to 
move in slow motion as he slowly peels the tight white fabric from his 
hips. Millimeter by millimeter they slip away until they fall like an 
autumn leaf exposing the most impressive column in Greece. I could see 
through the taut material that he was fairly sizable but now I can't help 
but gasp as his pulsating erection bounces free before my very eyes. It 
stands proudly like a tall, oak throbbing and pulsing excitedly, obviously 
at its highest level of arousal. Perversely the knowledge that I have 
caused him to reach such a peak of arousal makes me grin like a Cheshire 
cat. In the powerless world of a slave girl this is the only strength I 
have and I take it as a great complement that my tender body can evoke 
such a reaction. 

Carrying a bottle of oil he casually he strides over to me and kneels 
down. Like a magnet my hands are drawn to his wide, muscled chest. It's 
hard and smooth and I can feel his heart pounding with excitement. Unable 
to resist I slip my hand down to his swollen manhood and stroke it, 
enjoying the sensation of its solid silkiness in my hand. His rigid cock 
is blatant in its arousal and it pulses in my grasp. 

I arch my back submissively as he pours the clear, liquid all over my 
burgeoning, pink tipped peaks until it flows down over my cleavage and 
stomach. Trickling in thick rivers into my belly button and over my toned 
abs. It tickles me as its warmth coats my rose tinged flesh and it is not 
long before my master can resist my glistening body no more. He slides his 
hands all over me as I twist and squirm in his powerful, oily, grasp. 

Occasionally I try to massage some of the oil into his body, but without 
success. Every time I attempt to do so he pins me back down to the 
cushions and his slippery fingers continue their journey over my inflamed, 
silky nakedness. Physically, he is far stronger and he uses his strength 
to position me however he desires, moving me about effortlessly. It is 
clear that he is in charge and I happily accept his total dominance, 
surrendering myself completely to his ravenous hands. 

Not one inch of me is left unlubricated; he pays exquisite attention to 
every part of my smooth, curving flesh. He caresses my feet, even sucking 
on each of my toes. The backs of my legs, my arms, my mid rift, every part 
of me is intimately massaged until I have been driven into a sexual 
frenzy. My warm, moist centre is now so ripe it threatens to explode and I 
try to satisfy some of the fire within me. However, my master knows full 
well that my damp, swollen pussy craves stimulation, but he has me exactly 
where he wants me and he aims to tame me further. I try to touch myself, 
but am swiftly castigated for doing so. Instead I am forced to beg to be 
touched. 

I try to push the pouting lips of my beaver to him but he still does not 
rush himself. He massages my inner thighs, applying a medium amount of 
pressure with his thumbs, drawing circles getting closer and closer to my 
ripe vagina. Once these circles are at the creases between my legs he 
stops. He does not venture into my budding flower, but instead kneads my 
flesh making me plead for satisfaction. 

Finally to my delight he places his rigid tongue at the base of my sex and 
runs it firmly up all the way to the top in one long, hard stroke. The 
feeling is divine and he follows his first stroke with another soft, broad 
stroke, this time covering the whole of my slit. He continues varying 
these strokes between hard and soft, until I'm purring like crazy. 
Occasionally he even softly takes my pink, swollen lips in his mouth and 
sucks and gently nibbles on them. 

Whilst his tongue assaults my sex he places a hand between my buttocks and 
very gently eases a finger into my rear. The feeling is a little unnerving 
at first and I pull my hips away from him in a vain effort to escape the 
intrusion. It is a fruitless attempt and his finger is soon buried in my 
depths. I soon relent as I realize the pressure in my bum is in fact 
intensifying the sensations in my sex. The accumulation of his tongue on 
my pussy and his finger in my ass has set my body tingling and I can feel 
the warmth of my impending climax. My master is clearly listening to the 
continuous stream of girly, squeaks and squeals coming from me and he 
changes his technique in accordance with my subconscious moans. He makes 
his tongue as solid as possible and starts to thrust it in and out of me. 
The warmth of his breath and the firmness of tongue tickles and teases the 
entrance to my little pussy driving me wild. Over whelmed by the 
sensations I start to gyrate my hips trying to make him probe deeper. 

Now that I'm starting to buck my master decides its time to go for the 
jewel in my crown and he moves his tongue up to my ultra sensitive 
clitoris, which is peeking out enticingly. He starts by gently flicking 
his tongue over it, making my legs shudder and then moves on to 
rhythmically drawing letters around it. The sensation is intense and I am 
moaning like a whore, I know I'm close to cumming now and my whole body is 
trembling. 

It is at this point that he takes my clitoris in his mouth and sucks on 
it, still flicking it with his tongue. The warmth of his mouth and the 
stimulation is heavenly and it takes me to the very edge of orgasm. I buck 
and strain, but my master continues to suck, harder and harder, tighter 
and tighter. Suddenly his finger slips out of my behind, releasing a 
crescendo of orgasmic energy. My vagina tenses and I feel my juices 
squirting out of me. My master continues sucking for a moment longer, but 
he knows I am now too tender and he soon releases me. I lie there trying 
to catch my breath, my body still trembling. The orgasm was just awesome 
and I feel alive with energy.

He permits me a moment to recover and I lie motionless blushing and 
giggling, as the warm tingling fades. Once I have caught my breath he sets 
about riding me like a prize thoroughbred. He places the tip of his cock 
at the opening to my pussy and with great care he inches his sinewy length 
into me. I gasp and bite my lip as he enters, glad to have the extra 
lubricant of my orgasm to ease his passage. He is quite sizable and my 
tight, little pussy is forced to stretch to accommodate him. He starts 
slowly thrusting quite deep but not too hard, allowing me to get 
accustomed to the sensation of being impaled on such a long, hot shaft. 
However, he soon increases the tempo. Staring intently into my eyes he 
starts to plunge his sinewy length harder into me. My breasts jiggle and 
there is a satisfying slapping of flesh against flesh as he fills me up to 
the hilt. He swiftly establishes a good rhythm and the hard, fast friction 
makes me hot once more. 

With no regard for my modesty I moan loudly, gripping the cushions as my 
body is taken with untamed passion. He holds my legs by the ankles and 
spreads and twists me as he desires. He alternates between holding my legs 
up and together making the fit of his member in my pussy, feel even 
tighter and spreading me as wide as my muscles will allow. He is really 
driving hard into me now and the hot glide of flesh against flesh is 
making me want to cum again. 

The sensation of his pulsing core embedded, deeply within me is all too 
much and my body jolts and shudders uncontrollably. I grip the cushions as 
hard as I can, but all my strength seems to have been sucked into the 
first wave of my orgasm. Stars dance before my eyes and the sound of hot 
blood fills my ears like the roar of an angry sea. I cry out as emotion 
overwhelms me and I close my eyes. I'm lost in a wave of euphoria and I'm 
carried away on a sea of pleasure. He is no longer in side me and I stare 
out towards him deliriously. I can see him stroking himself, his jaw 
clenched and his nostrils flaring as jet of hot seed erupts over my 
stomach and breasts. Finally he caves in on top of me, our sweating, oily 
bodies spent, panting with exhaustion. It has been one of the most 
emotionally rigorous days of my life and my whole body feels weak and 
weary. Despite my desire to make love all night I am so tired I can barely 
move. My new master is keenly aware of this and caringly he holds me close 
in his powerful arms and kisses me tenderly on the forehead. Protected by 
the solid wall of muscle that is his chest I drift off to sleep.