The Little Slave Girl

Mother and father raised me believing women were to serve and bow to men. My mother was a slave herself, but they raised me as any parent would. What went on behind the bedroom door was their business and no one else's. They took me and my sisters to gymnastics every week, and we got to see other girls our age... but were kept a close eye on and never allowed to see them out of the program. We were homeschooled adn never left the house unless completely necisary, or, for gymnastics or slave orientation and training at the warehouse.

My brother got to go to school and see his friends and whatnot, he being a male and the edlest of my 4 siblings. He didn't usually bring his friends home, knowing they would judge our family... mother and my sisters in general. People just believed the good 'ol American dream was owning a car adn having a steady job...... not us.

When they did come over, however, my sisters and I treated his friends exactly how we would treat guests of our master. We bowed, served, offered sexual pleasure, but they always denied our care. Unless my brother or father asked we fetch something for them. My father acted as our master, without the harsh beatings. He never would seriously hurt us for pleasure and trust me we did nothing of the sexual sort. We're not that weird.

Anyways, when my older sister got sold to her first master my father cried that day. Never have I seen him sad as he was that day. We made a good 21k and bought some new toys for my mother adn father, and new cage and pillows for her weakening knees (by this time she was about 30, my father about 60... i think. It wasn't my business to know) When it was my time to go, my father made sure to put me in the best care he could find. A strict master who would never beat me to teh point of near death and when he looked in this man's eyes... he could tell he had pure compassion for people.

this is where my fun began.



My new master brought me to his house. Calling it a house was a huge understatement. Like calling an elephant a wallabe. This was the biggest mansion I'd ever seen... more like heard about. I saw luxurious homes in my fathers Forbes magazene but nothing this...... wonderful. My master couldn't have been to much older than me. He had dark brown hair, cut short and thick in small waves. He probably was an entrepaneuor my father had taught me this word. One of the few things he ever talked to me about. We didn't talk much except for his barking orders or beltings when I forget. Master said this type of mansion was called a luxury apartment and he lived in something called a penthouse.

I acted like the most curtious, well behaved slave there was although I felt unfinished. My mother had given me "street clothes" she had called them to wear to the auction and then go to my new home. I wore a low cut stretchy tanktop and thight yoga pants. NO underwear and certainly no bra. I had a single ring on my finger that was made entirely of silver and had the word "slave" engraved in it. Besides my ring I felt nothing like a slave.

We hopped in the teleporter and I was very scared. How were we going to get all the way to the top of this thing? Was I going to get smushed into another dimension? My master could tell I was very nervous. He told me it was called an elevator and it had a simple mechanical pulley system to get us to the top. I think I am going to have an ok time with my new master.
nataroni nataroni
18-21, F
Dec 15, 2012