Penelope walked the three blocks from her friend and fellow house slave Marsha’s residence to her owner’s place. She could have driven the small car that her owner provided for errands and days off, but it was a beautiful night, so she had walked to the conclave of slaves. It had been a good evening. Five local house slaves all got the same night free, and they met at the home of one whose owner was out. Three of them were clothed, including Penelope. Marsha was nude because she was in her owner’s house and she hadn’t received permission to dress. Jillian was nude and manacled; she had apparently displeased her owner, but was allowed to come to the gathering anyway.
It had been a relaxing evening. The slaves sat, drank wine, and discussed their duties and lives, and swapped news of other slaves in the area that could not come to the party. Some were on duty, others hadn’t gotten the time off. Many of the area house slaves were not allowed to leave without explicit permission. The slave in the house next to Penelope’s owner’s house was nude all the time, except outside in the winter, and was not allowed to leave except for specific errands. Penelope had gotten to know her by talking over the fence, but had never been able to visit the home or have her come to Penelope’s. The slave wouldn’t even tell her name — apparently, she was just “slave.”
The big discussion of the evening had been new bondage methods that some of the owners were using. Some were getting tired of the old, traditional pillories, cuffs, and chains. One rather scary method that had been seen around was surgical — the slaves had metal attachment points put into their bodies and connected to their bones. The result was smooth and unobtrusive, with small rings protruding from just above wrists and ankles, sometimes from the thighs, and somehow, some from the neck. That last made Penelope shudder. It was rumored to have problems with infection, which made it costly for a possibly short-term investment, but some owners did it anyway. Most of the newer bondage methods were improvements on old ones, such as collars and cuffs that could be permanently attached and produce less strain on the limbs and neck, the newly popular cell-phone shock collars, and various frames for presenting slave orifices for fucking in new and enticing ways. One that was just beginning to show up had the house slaves scared. Apparently, small devices could be implanted in the slave’s body that would interact with her nerves. The devices could deliver tremendous pleasure — or searing pain. The cost was so high, though, that only slave wives and sex toys had been implanted yet. Mere house slaves, like Penelope’s crowd, didn’t get the high-end stuff.
Penelope entered the house and went to her room. It was a nice room, better than most house slaves. Her owner, Mr. Johnson, treated her better than most house slaves were treated. He had bought her from a dealer that specialized in house slaves. She had been tested and trained in household duties, and that was what he wanted. She was cheaper than the younger slaves that doubled as sex toys, and she was better at most of the duties.
She thought of her former life, married with no kids, and not being happy but not miserable. She hadn’t known how irritated her husband was with her. She had mostly discontinued sex, and was always on his case about looking at the neighbor’s slaves and at pornography, and not being home, despite his long commute, and everything else that crossed her mind. One day she came home to find him there already, with a nude slave and a slaver to take her away. They called it an “instant divorce.” She ended up with the house slave dealer because she had claimed to have cooking and cleaning skills. They verified that, then gave her more training. A big part of the training was getting used to being nude, sexual techniques, and being submissive. They were remarkably effective at making women submissive, especially because the trainees saw what happened to those that weren’t submissive enough. They also forced exercise and weight loss on the trainee slaves. The result, in her case, was a thirty-something good cook and housekeeper that did what she was told and could give a man a reasonably good time in bed if he didn’t demand youth and perfection.
Her new owner had chosen her for function, not looks, and took her home as she was “packaged” by the dealer — gagged, handcuffed, and nude. When he got her inside, he removed the restraints and showed her the house and outlined her duties. After that, he had looked thoughtful and said, “I need to get you clothing. I got a brief outline about how you became a slave. Do you think your ex-husband still has your stuff, and would he be willing to sell it to me?”
She replied, “Yes, he doesn’t throw stuff out, and he’d probably give most of it to you if you hauled it away.” She gave him the phone number, and a short phone conversation later her owner told her, “You were right. If I haul it, it’s free. The deal includes that I don’t bring you. I’ll drop by my business and get some helpers. I think I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
Penelope turned and presented her hands for cuffing, as she had been trained, as he started toward the door. He saw that and said, “I’m not cuffing you. Go ahead, look around the house, start some laundry going.” He left, leaving Penelope naked and unchained. She thought about running, but training and common sense told her that there was little chance of her staying free for any significant amount of time. She sighed and started on the laundry.
A couple of hours later, her new owner returned with a truck and three gorgeous slaves, all wearing green collars and tennis shoes and nothing else. They efficiently unloaded boxes from the truck and brought them into a back bedroom in the house, then left in the truck. Mr. Johnson stayed and told Penelope to unpack her things, get dressed, and set about getting the house in order.
She shook off her reverie and came back to the present, two years later. It was late, there were a few lights on, but no sound. She wandered through the main floor, turned off lights and checked doors, then went up to her room and got ready for bed. She remembered that her owner was going to bring some slaves back from his business tonight, and decided to look in the open door of his bedroom. He was there, with two girls. She sighed. Since her enslavement and training, she had been much hungrier for sex. She wondered what they had done to her mind. She knew what they had done to her vagina. They used an electric dildo that supposedly caused the muscles to contract, exercising them and making her tighter. They called it the electric kegel. Her owner had read about the treatment in the materials they gave him when he bought her, and he got one of the devices and made her use it once a week to keep things toned up. If he would just use her more frequently. However, with his business, which she now knew to be a suck bar, came beautiful young slaves that were more entertaining, so she knew she was second string.
In the morning, she got up early, as usual, and decided not to dress. She showered, made herself look good, and went down to the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast. As she had figured, the smell of good coffee and bacon brought company — the two girls that he had last night. They were, as expected, beautiful, and stark naked. Penelope noticed that they wore thicker metallic collars rather than the colored leather collars that most of the other girls had worn.
“Good morning. Have some coffee. Breakfast will be ready in a minute or so. Is he coming down?”
The girls gratefully took the coffee and sat. “He’ll be down in a few minutes. He said we should go ahead.”
“That’s what he usually says.” Penelope served up bacon and eggs and hash browns, and the girls dug in. They were almost done when their owner came down, with damp hair and dressed in a robe. “Good morning, ladies.” He glanced at Penelope’s nudity, gave her a squeeze and a peck on the cheek, which she thought odd, but appreciated, and sat down. Penelope immediately served him breakfast and coffee, and stood beside his chair.
George Johnson smiled to himself. Penelope was obviously trying to get some of his attention. He knew that he hadn’t been using her much lately, and that made her feel bad. The slave trainers had pumped up her need for sex.
However, the girls at his bar interested him more. Joan was a major interest, even with her new boyfriend. George again marvelled that he had a competitor for the affections of a slave, but he knew that the situation was strange. With Louise and Delia, with him here today, things were more straightforward. Delia was beautiful, fun to fuck, and completely available to him, even though she was just on loan. Louise was beautiful, fun to fuck, exclusively his, and very tight. He was beginning to think about shifting her duties towards being his fun slave. Penelope may have been beautiful once, but had faded somewhat, and was looser, although the Kegel exercises and the electric Kegel had helped with that. The one advantage that she had was being more enthusiastic. The evaluation from the slave dealer warned him that she might resume the pattern she had started with her husband, told him what to watch for, and recommended immediate discipline and a return for retraining if it happened. He hoped it wouldn’t happen.
However, at this moment, enthusiasm had its merits. When he had finished, leisurely, he said, “Penelope, go into the living room and spread yourself on the floor. Delia, wash the dishes. Louise, come and watch.”
Delia hesitantly started with the dishes. Penelope all but ran to the living room, followed by a perplexed Louise. George Johnson dropped his robe on the way, displaying a rigid erection. He mounted Penelope and vigorously fucked her, giving little heed to her pleasure, but paradoxically increasing it. He fucked for a long time, drained as he was from last night. When he finally came, the feeling of the semen entering her gave Penelope a grand orgasm. George told Penelope, after some recovery, “You can have the day off, or you can cuff yourself for display in the living room all morning, for a whipping at noon.”
Penelope immediately got a pair of handcuffs, cuffed herself in front, attached the cuff chain to a chain dangling from the ceiling, and asked Louise to pull the chain tight to display her properly.
Louise was flabbergasted.
George was pleased. He fondled Penelope, and told her, “It will be a good whipping, then you’ll get the day off. Nice fuck, by the way.”