The Sold For Service Bundle Read online

  I thought that this was a fine thing indeed, to be both of the things that a woman should be. It didn’t occur to me that there was ever anything more to aspire to. Not much arrived in our village from the outside world—even the television networks were nationalized—and always I was content to try my best to look pretty and to cook beautiful meals for the men who came to my house to speak with my father. I did not put it together until late in my time there that often, these men were coming just as much to look at me and taste my food as they were to talk to my insipid fool of a father.

  The women from my village were not raised to be ashamed of their bodies. Harsh curfews were installed for men, and any found outside after that time were quickly punished. As such, women could come and go as they pleased at any time of day. Our outfits were flirty and open, baring our cleavage and hips, trying to catch mates as we could.

  The twins finished with my thighs, and moved upwards to my pussy. I tried to back away, but of course I couldn’t. They held me firmly.

  “You shouldn’t worry so,” said the first. “It doesn’t become a luscious body such as yours.”

  “Yes. You should not worry. We know what we are doing.”

  Celene continued to push up over my thighs, soft little excited breaths exiting her mouth. “You mustn’t doubt us.”

  “Yes. Doubting us is the last thing you should do.”

  Their fingers were gentle as they glided over my crotch and then around to the back, sliding their sponges over the twin globes of my ass. My time in the kitchen kept me moving and lifting always. I was in good shape.

  “May we touch your breasts?”

  “Yes. May we? We would like to clean you all over for Master.”

  I gulped. I didn’t want them to...and yet I did. With the warmth and relaxation that these two provided, it felt strange only having them touch the bottom part of my body. Like only wearing one sock, or only brushing one side of teeth in your mouth. A kind of sensation I can’t stand. And their hands—they felt soooo good.

  “Y-yes,” I squirmed. “Please. Wash me.”

  The twins’ hands ran down over my large breasts, flicking gently at my nipples. Their hands were soft, warm, and magical. I thought again about how much I had missed being touched in my time in the cell. It didn’t matter to me that they were women; it didn’t matter to me that they were the first women who had ever touched me so intimately. In fact, they were the first anyone who had touched me in the way that they touched me, running their exploring hands over my tiny waist, my wide child-bearing hips. The marveled silently over the thickness and length of my hair, assuring me that it would look so much better once I had earned a proper diet and proper make-up privileges.

  I knew I was beautiful; I knew that my father had most likely caught much more than a fair price for selling me. It likely wouldn’t take long at all for me to pay off his debt, but that didn’t matter. I would be a slave for the rest of my life, or until I was freed. In my time in the cell, by myself, I had done my best to accept this.

  Finally, they finished their job. I was cleaned all over, and wet as well.

  “Now,” said Celene, a certain predatory glint in her eyes, “You must let us lick you.”

  “Yes,” said Melinda. “Licking you is what we crave to do, and you must obey, like a good slave.”

  “Like a good slave.”

  “Like a good slave.”

  They continued to echo one another, pushing me against the edge of the pool we stood in. As they continued to chant, they pushed me up onto the stones around the pool and then more ever still until I was on my back. Melinda climbed up out of the water, wetness dripping from her brilliantly gorgeous naked frame down onto my own body, and slid on top of my chest. The cheeks of her ass rubbed hard against my erect nipples as she slowly lowered her hairless pussy down to my face.

  “You must lick her,” said Celene.

  “Yes. Lick me.”

  The smell of her lust-filled cunt was overwhelmingly sweet. I needed to taste her, and her folds were so tantalizingly close. My tongue slipped out and tasted her—sweet, just like her smell. I licked more, and Melinda moaned, sliding her face down harder on my face. Her knees gripped the side of my head, holding me in place, and I could not get away even if I wanted to.

  But I didn't want to.

  As Melinda had her way with my tongue, Celene slid her own face forward between my open, waiting legs. Very quickly she was licking me just as I licked Melinda, though with more dexterity. Hers was a skilled tongue, and gentle, and she made circles around my precious mound with a practiced ease.

  I tried to follow her example, keeping a gentle rhythm with my tongue, licking gently and every so often letting the pink tip drag across the small nub that I had centered my new world around. My efforts were rewarded with Melinda's increased gyrations and moaning as she sat down harder on my face. Melinda's excitement increased Celene's, and the twin licking my cunt increased her efforts—which made me increase mine! We were a trifecta of lust.

  Soon, I felt my orgasm approaching—and I could feel a pulsing, hot tightening from Melinda on top of me. Her orgasm was announced by a hot shriek and the tightening and sudden loosening of her knees on my head. As she came, I did as well, feeling that rush of ecstasy and shame that had accompanied my orgasms ever since arriving there.

  Slowly, the sisters, slid off from on top of me and began to dry themselves off, and then me. They'd had their way with me. They had done exactly what they wanted.

  They had done exactly what they were ordered to do by Master.

  I felt violated, it was true. But, I couldn’t deny how much I enjoyed it and wanted it, every step of the way...and how much I looked forward to doing it again.

  * * * * *

  The auction house was a bustling, happy place. All the slaves there had followed the process, had been fully indoctrinated, and had smiles on their faces. They would be obedient for whomever bought them. That was their destiny.

  That was my own destiny.

  I did not know where the auction house was—I suspected Talresha, because of the cold weather I felt outside, but it just as easily could have been Nator or Yoro. I had been blindfolded on the ride there, and the blindfold was taken off only when I finally arrived properly inside of the auction house. It was a large building, and where I was looked something like the backstage area of a theater, with lots of mirrors everywhere and plenty of bright lights shining so everyone could admire themselves or fix their make-up and outfits.

  My own outfit was simple. I had on a tight pink corset to show off my large breasts and tight, tiny waist, and tall pink leather boots stretched up just to my knees, decorated my legs and showing off their length. I had on no panties, and that was perfectly all right. If any of the other slaves had on underwear—male or female—it was all sheer. Modesty was for those outside of the Service Trade, and I was most certainly inside of it.

  My training was complete. I was the perfect, obedient slave, and I would follow my Trainer’s instructions to the letter while I was being sold.

  If the area we were in was a backstage, then the stage itself was a tall platform beyond a door at the top of the backstage area. A series of metal steps led up to the door, and a line had loosely begun to form. A distinguished-looking dark-skinned Hundret slave in a smashing, tight business suit called out names on a clipboard, trying to organize the presentation order.

  Very soon, girls would be called up to be sold off to their new Owners. A number of Masters and Mistresses had already walked past us, earlier, taking stock of the merchandise available to them. The Master who had trained me, Franklin, was not amongst them. I would have recognized his handsome, moody face anywhere, even in a thick crowd like there was backstage.

  Now, back out in front of the presentation platform, all the Owners sat in chairs, conferring with one another and taking bets on the order of the males and females to be shown.

  As they had walked by, I could not stop the excitement t
hat attended my heart. There were Masters and Mistresses, both, though quite a few more Masters than Mistresses. With my supple young body on display how it was, my mind raced with possibilities in front of so many handsome, strong men. Would they take it upon me to fuck me in turn, to test out the merchandise?

  Would they want to fuck me all at once, as some sort of test? Shower me in cum and see if I begged for more?

  I promised myself that I would.

  As I sat backstage, even long after the events ran their course, I daydreamed about that. All of those Masters, all of those huge indomitable cocks, surrounding me, each last one wanting a turn with the slave body that I alone had.

  Nearby me in the crowd was a Yoron girl with thick red hair and wide, sumptuous curves. Contrary to Yoron men, who were notably gregarious, tall, and musclebound, most Yoron women were plump, soft-spoken, and muted in personality. She was worrying away at her reflection in a mirror, trying to arrange her soft curls just right.

  I leaned in to help her, adjusting the golden clasp in her heavy red mane so that her lovely, angular face was framed just so.

  “There,” I said. “How’s that?”

  “Thank you, sister,” she said quietly, looking at me with large, grateful blue eyes. “It’s very pretty.”

  We all called each other sisters. We were sisters in service. We all understood.

  A guard watched us closely, ensuring that no undue touching occurred. Bisexuality was openly encouraged and sometimes even demanded for slaves, but it wasn't to happen without explicit approval. And, as none of us had Owners yet, very little behavior was approved for us. Guards like the big burly one eyeing us were everywhere around us, keeping everything orderly. Making sure we didn't act willfully.

  I had little concern of doing such a thing.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t have a will. It was just that my will was...muted. I had better options than having a will. I had obedience. I had a cause. I had something to live for—and besides that, the thrill of finding out who my new Master would be was positively overwhelming. I brimmed with need to kneel for my Master, to show him how appreciative I was to be owned. I wanted him to feel like a real man, to know that he owned me in every way possible, for him to understand that my loyalty was unquestionable.

  The other women waiting backstage were gorgeous, of course. I noticed smugly that I was quite possibly the most gorgeous of any of them. My tits weren’t quite as large as the Yoron who I had helped, and my hair wasn’t quite as long as the pale Brickhill girl in the red lingerie, but my face was definitely prettier than any of them. My musculature was just slightly more toned than that other Talreshan, and I saw that I was the only one who was observing and measuring the other women. Their faces were blank, expressionless save for a vapid, empty smile. My own smile was seductive, inviting, with a sharpened, sexy intelligence behind it.

  They might have been good specialty slaves, great for a fuck or two in between fucking other slaves. But I was the only one there who would work perfectly as a companion slave. Someone for a Master to bounce his thoughts off of, and to indulge his most wicked desires.

  And yet, still, I was sad.

  I knew that I would be the perfect companion for whomever bought me. And I would obey them, perfectly and happily. That was my place. That was my destiny. But, at the same time...

  No matter how diligently I was trained—and it was diligently—feelings for my old Master still lived within me. He had promised me that when I found my new Master, all those old feelings would attach to my new owner, and I wouldn’t even know the difference. All the good slaves did this, he assured me.

  But somehow I knew I would know the difference. I would always want the Master who trained me to obey, and he was forbidden from buying me. Celene and Melinda had told me.

  Masters never bought a slave they had trained.

  * * * * *

  In Talresha, where I am from, sometimes men cannot pay their debts. When this happens, they have only a few options.

  They can be killed, thus canceling anything they might owe. Obviously, this isn’t very desirable.

  They can sell their businesses, if they have one. Sometimes this happens, though often not.

  So the last and most used option is that if a man in debt has a wife, a sister, or a daughter, they can sell her to the Guild of Service to pay off the amount they owe.

  My father was a stupid man who always thought he deserved more than what he had. Not far from our small cobblestone town, there was a riverboat casino where he played cards every night. He would pay off his debts every time that he was paid by the local saw mill, and then he would play on credit and lose money for another week. Then, the saw mill closed down. My father played on credit for several months, earning much debt. The casino men, they broke my father’s leg, and then his arm, and still he could not pay them.

  And so, as you probably have already gathered, he sold me. His one and only eighteen year-old daughter, who cooked and cleaned for him, and would have been happy to do as he said for as long as he wished.

  Because he was weak, and because he was stupid, and because he was lacking in moral fiber, he sold me and gave me away like I was some property.

  And now I was property.

  And now, I was beginning to enjoy it.

  After Celene and Melinda pleasured me, and I them, in the bath, they gave me a bed in my small cell, and a small electric lantern, as well as a small warm dinner. It was nothing special—warmed asparagus worked over a plate of orderly Lima beans—but it was tastier than anything I felt I had ever had before (outside of, perhaps, Melinda’s pussy).

  Hunger is, I found, the absolute best seasoning for food.

  The morning after I was given my bed, Celene and Melinda opened the door once more. Quietly, they led me through the intricate stone hallways into a large room with dark, painted walls and a thick white mattress in the middle of the floor.

  The two were dressed again in highly sexualized uniforms, though today the color was blue instead of red, and they had traded in the frills of the previous uniform for soft wispy lace that wrapped around their tight bodies and was also sheer, exposing their nipples and cleavage.

  “This is not a free ride,” said Celene, pointing at the bed.

  “Yes,” said Melinda. “You must earn your keep.”

  I nodded, hoping to show compliance. “I know that. I didn’t expect that. I want to do my best. I want to do whatever I can.”

  “That’s good. We would hate for this to become unpleasant.”

  “Yes. That is very good. Otherwise, we are authorized to become very unpleasant with you.”

  I gulped, my eyes widening.

  “Th-there’s no need for that, I don’t think. Please. I’ll do anything you say. I want to. I want to learn.”

  Trying to prove myself, I knelt down onto the mattress. It was springy and sturdy, the fabric slightly rough on my skin.

  “Do you see? I want to hear you. Please.”

  Celene strutted forward in her heels, sliding a gloved hand through my thick hair.

  “She’s so very eager,” noted Celene.

  “Yes. Much more eager than the last one.”

  That processed for a moment while Melinda came on the other side of Celene. Their hot, scented pussies were so close to my face. It was hard to think of anything else. Melinda had tasted so very good...

  “You’ve done this before?” I asked.

  “Oh, of course. The last one wasn’t so eager as you. She was—or is, I suppose—a Nator. You know how they can be. So much fire.”

  “Yes. We’ve had to train her for months and months, and still she is in the dungeons, and we await her compliance.”

  “Dungeons? You mean this place?”

  Celene tsked. “Oh, no. The dungeons are below this level. You don’t want to go there.”

  “Yes. You want to avoid them at all costs.”

  We Talreshans had a grim determination to us; a sensibility that was hard to cra
ck. We would try a task, and any progress at all in our efforts would mean that we would attempt it again and again until it was done.

  It was absolutely possible they were bluffing. But looking at their faces, it was hard to see any evidence or guile or plotting. I don’t know if they had enough of their minds or wills left to do something as dastardly as lie in order to intimidate me. As best I knew, what they were saying was absolutely true, and I knew they would work on me until I was obedient as their Master required.

  As obedient as my Master required.

  I was ready to cooperate anyway. But now I knew I needed to, unless I wanted to go back to my cell.

  “I don’t want to live in the dungeons,” I said, sliding my hands up Celene’s leg, and then Melinda’s. They were so smooth, so easy and beautiful to touch. My pussy warmed at their softness. “I want to obey. Please. Teach me?”

  Smiling, Celene stepped to the wall and opened a small panel there. The stones made a mechanical whirring sound and opened up, revealing a cold steel box into which Celene reached. She walked back toward me with a large, tan-colored dildo in her hands.

  “You must learn to take this into your body,” said Celene, sliding a finger up and down the long length of the dildo.

  “Yes,” said Melinda. “It’s only right and proper that you learn how to take the size of any man.”

  “Of several men, if need be.”

  “Yes. You must know how to fuck however many men your Master wants you to fuck.”

  I gulped, my pussy twinging with pleasure and apprehension at the thought. I realized very suddenly that they—or he—could do just that. Gather up a dozen men just to fuck me into submission, to fuck me until I was so delirious with orgasms and so drowned in cum that I could do nothing but become their slave.

  They could do anything at all they wanted with me, and fucking me with the dildo in Celene’s hands was just the tip of the iceberg.

  I was determined to not be intimidated. If they could do anything to break me, I wanted them to try. I wanted to show them that this was my will to submit, not their decision.