Turning the girl’s face towards him, Olaf stared into her fear filled
eyes intently. It was quite remarkable – that he should come to own this
slave.
“I can’t believe it. You are a real person – someone with a life and a
past, who once was like me. But now you belong to me. You are mine. I own
you.” Olaf spoke aloud to himself, since the girl was gagged with a leather
head harness.
How he had come to be a part of this society is a matter for another
story, but suffice it to say he had not always been a part of it. Only
recently had it been suggested to him that he was sufficiently assimilated
to own his own slave.
In the way of outsiders, even though he had striven for years to reach
this point, he had never contemplated it actually happening. He had seen
the spectacle of an auction once when he was very new, but he remembered
nothing of the one that morning in which he had acquired his new slave. It
had been a blur of adrenaline, as he hoped no one would outbid him on the
girl he had picked out from the kennels the previous day.
They stood alone together in a smallish bare room. Lights was provided
by a diffuse glow emitted evenly from the ceiling panels. A single chain
descended from the center of the ceiling, terminating in a hook which held
the cuffs which bound her wrists. Each of her ankles was adorned with a
similar cuff, locking her legs to a pair of D-rings in the floor. Other
than the head harness and cuffs, the girls was totally naked.
She was very attractive, Olaf thought. She had blond hair and blue eyes,
was thin with smallish hips, but nicely sized pert breasts, which heaved
enticingly with each breath she took. Olaf stared again into her eyes.
Behind the fear, there was a naivete of a kind. Olaf decided that she
knew that she was in this new place for good, but did not yet know what that
meant, or what her fate here would be. She would only meet his eyes
fleetingly.
Olaf was unclear how to treat his new slave. Some masters were vicious,
others loving. Slaves were never treated as equals in public, but he
suspected that things were different in many relationships in private. Some
slaves had a glint of intelligence and knowing in their eyes, as if being a
slave were just a charade they played along with when in the company of
others. Olaf had picked this one because she looked like she might have
that potential, but he was unsure of how to unlock it, or if he wanted to
unlock it just yet.
While on the one hand, he really wanted to just reach out and remove her
bondage and tell her that he had once been new to all this too and have
someone to understand him, he knew that that was not how things worked here.
He had also been here long enough to not want to give up his rights of
ownership – he looked forward to having someone dedicated solely to pleasing
him.
At least she seemed not to have caught on to his indecisiveness. She
made no attempt to appeal to him for escape – she had accepted the
circumstances apparently.
Olaf stopped circling her, and stopped in front of her. Reaching out, he
watched his finger trace downward from her cheek, over her neck, and across
to her nipple, pausing and moving further down. Her pubes here hairless,
like all slaves here, so no roughness impeded his progress. Nestling his
finger between her nether lips, he noted some moisture, but not much. He
felt her breath coming harder, her body almost shivering from the
nervousness.
The air in the room was cool, and her nipples began to stand out harshly
from her breasts. Olaf slowly moved his finger back and forth across the
top of her slit, just above her clit. The girl was quivering in his hands
as Olaf moved behind her. His finger traveled south for just a moment to
run lightly over her clit before returning to the top of her mons.
Olaf liked the feeling of being in control. Air was coming to the girl
only in ragged breaths now. Standing behind her, he was unable to ascertain
whether any of her fear had transmuted into arousal. He let his finger
drift south over her clit again, this time continuing on to plunge into the
soft folds of her pussy. She was wet indeed. The finger hooked up into
her, as she moaned softly, and tried unsuccessfully to squeeze her thighs
closed against the chains holding her ankles apart. Using his thumb, Olaf
stroked against her clit gently, moving his digit in and out, accompanied by
more moaning.
After a minute of this, Olaf added a second finger to his invasion.
Beads of sweat were now forming on the girl’s face despite the cool air, and
her hips seemed to have a life of their own, swaying back and forth against
Olaf’s hand. His free hand drifted upward from steadying her hips to her
right breast, which he now grasped firmly.
When he felt like she was approaching orgasm, Olaf increased the speed of
his stroking. When he felt her body go rigid against him, he released her
breast and slid his hand down her back. Reaching between her legs from
behind, he rested his index finger against her anus for a brief moment
before driving it in to the knuckle. The slave shook against him, her
nostrils flared as her chest heaved, and her vagina clamped down on his
hand. Barely audible shrieking noises escaped the head harness as her hips
bucked against his dual invasion: the first two fingers of his right hand
pumping in and out of her pussy, and the index finger of his left hand
embedded in her rectum.
When he felt her go limp in her bonds, Olaf withdrew his hands from her
sex. Moving to the wall, Olaf touched a control which lowered the ceiling
chain enough for him to unhook her. After unlocking her ankles, Olaf lay
her limp form in his lap as he sat on the floor. His hands stroked her hair
and chest, much the way a rider might touch his horse – his hands roamed
over her body with no limits, always maintaining contact, letting her know
that he owned her.
After another few minutes of indulgence, Olaf bent to kiss his new slave
lightly on the forehead. Her eyes fluttered briefly before closing again.
Leaving her on the floor of the room which was to be her new home, he walked
in to the main room of his new home. Owning a slave came with the
responsibility of caring for it, and the new apartment, although very modest
at 3 rooms, included a room for his slave.
With a sigh of anticipation of what would happen later that night, Olaf
donned his cloak which hung by the door. With a hiss of compressed air, he
was out, off to serve his patron, and earn his living in this strange land.