Introduction:
This is my first story, please give me feedback! I’d love to hear it no matter what it is 🙂
IMPORTANT: All inequality, such as sexism, racism or the concept of slavery, is deplorable. This is simply a way of safely exploring those things which one inexplicably finds themselves turned on by. , I held my sobbing girlfriend Ruby in my arms, lying in bed. I had just broken the news to her that I was selling her tomorrow, and she was naturally distraught at the short-notice news. I explained to her that it was a fairly impulsive decision on my part, though for some time I had known that I wanted an upgrade.
She quietly sobbed “I will do anything for you”.
“So will any girl I buy,” I correctly answered, and she sobbed harder, knowing it was true. A girl in this world could only be as valuable as the body she was born with, no matter how hard she worked to be appealing.
Ruby was a medium-height girl with curly frizzy dark brown hair and a high-cheekboned but slightly pointed ostrich-like face that I found cute and girlish but not exactly pretty or beautiful. She was cute to play with, control and make cry, but she wasn’t exactly something to show-off, she wasn’t exactly top-grade material. She was fairly skinny, with small though defined tits that were fairly spaced out from each other on her chest and a little-to-medium ass with chicken-like though not twiggy legs. She was nineteen, just one year younger than me.
I further explained to her, “You can’t expect me to settle for you as my lifelong girl now can you darling? Let’s not delude ourselves like that. I could get your tits and ass largened and improve your face with some surgery, but for that amount of money I’d much rather get a nice natural girlfriend, you know I prefer natural. In fact I’ve already viewed, tested and bought her, she should arrive tomorrow around the time you’re picked up and taken away.”
“Where will I go” she asked tearfully, speaking quietly because she needed to ask but was terrified to know, terrified to have to actually ask that question. I revealed the future I had chosen for her.
“I didn’t like the idea of my long-time girlfriend just being resold to another man to own as his own, I didn’t want your body to exist just for the pleasure of some other guy. I may be selling you, but I want to make sure the time we’ve spent together will remain your primary sexual function and won’t be overshadowed. So I’ve sold you to a labour company that will use you as a labour slave, probably pulling loaded carts or shifting rocks. Their main operations are in the Middle East at the moment. The wealthy company owners and operators have access to plenty of good female product and they find sexual pleasure demotivating for the labour slaves, so this choice for me will ensure that you’ll never be used sexually again, and with your hands chained to the carts they’ve assured me you won’t be able to touch yourself. I know I’ve made the right choice, I’m gonna feel happy remembering you and knowing that someone else isn’t using your charms or giving you pleasure like I did.”
At the news of her fate she burst out wailing louder than before. Once slaves were chained into labour gangs they were rarely if ever unchained in their lives, as worn down slaves would be useless for resale for pleasure or any other application, and their labour would never not be required. Ruby loved sex, and the news that she would never have it again, just because I didn’t want my ex-girlfriend being reused by other men, must have felt unimaginably cruel, especially since she was still just nineteen and had probably expected to have a much longer life of youthful sexual use ahead of her. Now she faced the reality of having her prime sexual years, the years of her young nubile body, wasted away while she was chained to carts full of stones in a desert, her body ignored while I lay at home happily fucking a higher-quality girl.
I kissed her forehead tenderly, “There there. I know you’re young to be finished with sex, but I still got a good few years use out of you honey! You should be grateful for that, I could have easily afforded someone much hotter and prettier, but I used you because I love you baby. I know you’ll be happy that I’m happy. When you’re working in the hot sun just think of me, your old boyfriend, and be happy that this is the life I wanted for you, and that your sex was all mine. Know that I am pleased with you.”
This can’t have been much comfort but she still managed an appreciative little sniffle. What a good girl.
“Now, Stand!” I snapped into command mode, changing the mood.
She immediately disentangled herself and her curly dark hair from my embrace, standing upright in front of my bed facing me, hands behind her head, her feet slightly apart, displaying her naked body while still sniffling. Perhaps subconsciously a bit of her believed that I would become enamoured with her and choose to keep her if she gave a perfect, sexual, obedient, devotional performance on this last night. A few little tears rolled down her cheeks and off her chin, itching her, but she dared not brush them away.
“Stop crying.” I said simply, and watched her mentally try to recompose her face and snap into the moment despite her mental anguish.
“Seeing as this is our last night together, I want to appreciate all your charms fully. You will be on your best behaviour to give me something to remember you by – there are no blemish, marking or beauty requirements for common labour slaves so remember I can still punish you for anything I am unsatisfied with, and I will not accept your emotions getting in the way of your duties. Now get on with dinner darling.”
Determined to show me, in vain, what a good girlfriend she was, Ruby hurried off down the hall, still trying to hold back tears, to the kitchen, making me my dinner as she did every night. I followed and sat on the sofa sipping a drink, watching my owned girlfriend of the past significant portion of my life make me dinner for the last time, expertly moving around the kitchen, only ever so slightly grimacing whenever the frying pan spat hot oil onto her naked front. She served it to me on the couch and knelt on the floor waiting to be allowed to eat, but I patted the sofa beside me and allowed her to cuddle up and eat dinner with me for her last night. It was delicious, and I congratulated her. “I sure will miss your cooking you know. I’ll make sure Stella models her cooking off what I’m used to from yours, though it may take a while to get her tuned in to exactly how I like it.”
This was the first time I’d used my incoming-girlfriend’s name in front of my outgoing-girlfriend, and I saw fresh pain spring across Ruby’s face on hearing me talk so casually and intimately of her replacement like we were so close.
When we had finished eating, Ruby did the dishes as always, for one last time, and then I ordered her to the bedroom.
For the rest of the night, we connected fully and deeply for one last time, as I worked her hard, extracting my full pleasure from her on our last night. Everything we did was full of emotion from both of us.
First I put her through her positions that she knew off my heart from my barked commands – standing straight with hands behind head and legs slightly apart, kneeling with hands behind head and knees apart, kneeling face down with ass high in the air, standing on tip toes with hands behind head till her legs started shaking, etc. Then I lay back on bed and undressed and commanded the blowjob of her life from her. She sucked, licked and choked for ages while I cruelly pinched, twisted and pulled her puffy nipples with my fingers. Then I flipped her over and fucked her ass hard, something she had always hated but which I always loved, making her scream and cry as I rammed in and out of her. I said “Hmmm maybe I should just use your ass for the rest of the night, this feels great, so there’s no need to go near that cunt. Maybe your cunt has been fucked for the last time yesterday.” She truly feared this, and cried while I kept fucking her, knowing it was fully believable that I would selfishly decide to use her ass instead of her pussy at all, meaning she would never get a fuck there again. But after a while of terrifying her with this prospect I couldn’t resist a last encounter with the pussy that had been my own for so long, so I pulled out of her ass and thrust into her cunt, taking her by surprise and making her cry out. She’d always been super tight, which made sex painful for her but didn’t stop her wanting it, and made me enjoy it even more. I would definitely miss that about her – my new girl wasn’t quite as tight, though definitely not loose, and she made up for it with the improvement of the rest of the body.
We fucked raw and wild for ages, me ramming her mercilessly in doggystyle and missionary, then when I wanted a rest making her ride me in cowgirl, getting her to squeeze her vaginal muscles and work me right, showing me the final product of her skills which I had honed in her to my own tastes. I pushed her back onto her back to finally cum inside her, a huge powerful orgasm into the depths of my slave.
I pulled out, and the significance of that moment wasn’t lost on her, as she knew in that one second she had been entered for the last ever time, and her look went from one of sexual bliss to panicky sadness. I decided to give her a special treat that I had been saving, without her knowing it, for her final night in my ownership. She was lying upright on the bed with her legs still spread from fucking, when I said “As a reward for your years of mainly good service, I’m gonna give you a special treat. You may make yourself cum.” She couldn’t believe her ears, but looking at me and deciding I actually meant it, she tentatively put her hand between her legs and began to masturbate. I hadn’t let herself touch herself in the entire time we had been together, and this must have felt like finally scratching the greatest itch in the world for her. I said “You have five minutes starting now to make yourself cum, for your first time in a long time and your last time ever. After five minutes your cuffs go on and you won’t get a second chance in your life.” Hearing this she began to wank herself with desperation, spreading her legs wider and higher and shamelessly ramming her hand up and down her clit and in and out of herself, her head back and her eyes rolling into her head, half in pleasure half in terror, knowing this was her last chance to ever feel a womanly orgasm before a sad pleasureless life. To make it harder for her to finish in time I lay beside her and cruelly pinched both her nipples, twisting, pulling, and pinching between my nails. Despite this, she came with thirty seconds to spare on my phone timer, crying out in a massive moan as she shook with the biggest orgasm of her life. Immediately as it subsided she burst into mixed tears of happiness, sadness and relief. I cradled her head in my hands, saying “There there darling, what a good last cum, I’m sure you made the most of it, you’ll certainly remember that forever.” However I was also trying to be genuinely comforting to her, as I did feel sorry. Nevertheless I reached to the bedside table and picked up the short cuff chain that linked her hands behind her back, and even as I caressed her I gently said “Hands behind your back baby.” She sobbed, barely able to pull her hands away from her throbbing pussy, but I gently pulled them and she obeyed. I locked her hands tightly behind her back, ending her last episode of sexual pleasure. She looked truly pitiful, so I kissed her and cuddled her and poured her a glass of water which I fed to her.
However, her final night of use wasn’t over yet. I disconnected her wrist chain, sparking a glimmer of hope in her eyes, which died when I reconnected them above her head to the ring in the ceiling. She watched knowingly as I got out my huge black single-tail whip and gave it a practice crack in the air, making her flinch. “One last time honey, I’m gonna relish every stroke and I know you will too.” That was the advantage, I thought to myself, of selling her to a labour slave company rather than to an individual or a sexual service – it didn’t matter how marked she was when they picked her up as long as her muscular ability for hard labour wasn’t impacted.
For the next forty minutes I whipped her thoroughly all over. It was forty minutes of screams, tears, discomfort and of course extreme pain for her, and sheer comfortable erotic delight for me. I took plenty of photos of her to remember, as indeed I had throughout the night. I had never been a precision whipper of girls, preferring more the fear and fun of the unknown that came when I just lashed animalistically at her full naked exposed body. That said, I managed to land blows between her legs, to my absolute satisfaction, though I got even more satisfaction by simply ordering her to keep her legs open constantly despite every instinct in her body screaming at her to close them protectively, and watching her quivering thighs as a result. I also landed great tit shots, and focused for a very long time on turning her little sensitive ass red. The majority of the blows however landed directly on her front or back. I loved the simple punishment like slavery-treatment aspect of whipping her bare stretched out back – I loved how it was simply pain for causing pain’s sake, as it was not an overly erotic area, and it was a big target. However whipping her front had the advantage of being able to watch her face, to look right into her eyes, to study the way her head thrashed and her teeth gritted, her tears, her readjusting stepping legs, the twist of her whole body in pain, the beautiful tension of every muscle clenched. My poor little girl. I felt truly sorry for her with every stroke (I did love her after all), but enjoyed the sight too much to stop. After one photo I took immediately after a savage hit, a clear flash image which showed her front-on, tears streaking her face, her arms chained above her head and her whole observable body covered in vivid red striped, I told her “That’s a gorgeous image, you look so hot in this one, well done. I’m going to frame this and have it on the shelf as my main visual memento of you at your peak.”
Finally I got tired, and her final whipping as my girlfriend was complete, a truly emotional stepping stone for both of us, making me feel quite moved. I looked at her, naked and restrained and crying and covered in whip marks, and thought philosophically for a moment. We were two humans, born around the same time as each other in the same country, who lived in the same house together, yet look how different our life experiences were. One human born had gotten lucky in the gender lottery, one hadn’t. No matter how good and obedient a serving slave girlfriend she was, she must have thought very often, such as in times like this when she was restrained and whipped for close to an hour, why her experience had to be the way it was, why she couldn’t escape her physical form. Her very own body, the thing we are all born with, was used against her and imprisoned her, whenever her hands and legs were tied or her neck collar leashed to something, trapping her in her own prison of flesh, and when I did something like whip her or force something massive up her tiny asshole, the experience of her body became hell, but she could only lie there, unable to escape, wondering why her life experience was this way, sobbing, wishing she could be anywhere else. But knowing she could not, she served me devotionally anyway. Now it would be her own body that was used against her to imprison her when she would be shackled to the labour cart, deprived the basic human use and free movement of her arms which had evolved to move and hold things and were now turned against her to restrain her forever.
Having had all these thoughts, I decided to really elaborate them to me, so I stood in front of her, looked her in the eye and slapped her hard across the face five times with all my might.
After a few more photos from different angles I unchained her wrists from the ceiling and she staggered forwards into my arms. I reattached her cuffs securing her arms behind her back. I then gave her a deep deep kiss, sticking my tongue down her throat, and she reciprocated, falling into the bed as we made out for ages, her still wincing from her whip cuts every time her body touched anything, but lost in the passionate moment. Finally disconnecting, I reached off the bed and picked up the chain that attached to her collar every night, locked to the foot of the bed. Looking into her eyes, I clicked the end onto the ring in her permanent neck collar for the last time through our going-to-sleep ritual. That was sad for both of us. But as she moved to get off the bed and onto the floor, as the chain attachment usually indicated she should, I said “Stay on the bed with me.” We cuddled up to sleep. I turned the light out, lay on my side-front as I always do when going to sleep, and maneuvered her head down to my ass. “Lick me to sleep for your last night” I said gently, and she parted my cheeks and began to expertly lap at my asshole with her tongue, immediately relaxing me into bliss. In the dark I talked openly to her for a bit while she licked, about how I’d miss her and remembering some of the good times we’d had and how much she meant to me and how I would remember her as a good girlfriend. Then I fell asleep to the continued delightful warm wet feeling of her tongue probing my anus, spending our last night together as was rightful.
We woke together for the last time, to my usual alarm in the morning. As I flipped the covers off us both and watched her open her eyes I could tell she was hoping it was all a bad dream, and slightly panicking as her awake awareness came back to her and she realised this was it. I unlocked her chain from her collar, and sent her to make me a final breakfast. She brought it to me in bed, where I ate it, and she ate hers beside me, our last meal. Then she lay on the bed and I couldn’t resist running my hands all over her, really acknowledging and feeling the reality of this complete girl that I had owned and was now sending out of my life. I felt every curve, feeling her tits and ass, running my hands down her sides, over her belly, up the curves of her back, feeling out along every arm and leg, holding her hands and feet, wrapping my hands around her beck, tracing and squeezing her face, her nose, her ears, her eyes, pushing my fingers inside her mouth and lips, running my fingers through her hair and caressing the shape of her head, fingering her asshole, cupping her vulva and feeling the folds of her vagina. All the things that had belonged to me, pieces of my property.
When I had drunk my fill I clipped a hand leash onto her collar and stood her up off the bed. I led her through the house a last time, as she began to tear up a bit. I led her out of the side door that goes into my garage, and took her to a corner. Ordering her to kneel on the dark cold dusty concrete, I locked her leash to a ring in the wall, explaining “My new girl is getting dropped off very soon, so I want you quiet in here until you’re picked up because I don’t want her to see you and realise that she’s an upgrade. That’ll really give her some starting confidence or self-value that I don’t want her to have, I’d much rather she didn’t know and thought that maybe I’d had plenty of girls hotter than her, to make her feel humble and respect me instantly as her owner. I’ll be back for you later, now I don’t want to hear a sound.” She finally began to cry as I said that, as she suffered the ultimate humiliation of her boyfriend hiding her so as not to show her replacement how much lesser she was. I walked out of the garage, shutting the door and leaving her to sit naked, shivering and thinking.
There was one thing I still hadn’t told her, one final humiliation – my new girl Stella, who was the same age as me, was black African American. It had cost a bit more, but it was worth it. Ruby had always admired the black women in the “Ebony” section of the slave magazines I always browsed through on the couch for fun. They emitted a raw, exciting sexuality that she knew her scrawny, skinny paleness just could never match, no matter how hard she tried to serve.
Cut to an hour later and Stella had been delivered, signed for, taken into my home (blindfolded, just to ramp up the feeling of the unknown scariness of her new life,) and made to stay kneeling on all fours in my lounge, breaking her into her place as I simply silently observed her.
Then the transportation truck arrived to pick up Ruby. The moment was here. The guy came to my door, made some small talk, and handed me the papers to sign for her. I said I’d just be one moment and I’d go get her, taking the papers with me. I went into the garage and she was huddled in the cold corner where I left her, still crying silently. I turned on the light and walked over to her, her looking up at me, silently pleading when she saw the papers in my hand. She had undoubtedly heard the truck arrive and knew what it meant. I stood over her, looking down, relishing in the power I held. This power had made me rock hard, and I unzipped myself and pulled out my cock, sticking out over her head. “Suck” I said, gently. “This might be your last blowjob, so make it count.” She reared up on her knees, and her mouth opened and fit around my cock head for the last time, the wonderful familiar warmth of her mouth washing over me. I relished all the details of her oral technique that I had taught her and molded her to over the years of our relationship, and realised that this, right now, was the final result, the peak of her adaption to my preferences. I loved it, and felt sorrow that I would never feel her mouth around me again, but it didn’t dim the excitement of the power I was enacting. I ordered her to look up into my eyes the whole time she was sucking me, and she did. We never broke our emotionally connected eye contact for the whole time, as she used her tongue on my balls, choked herself with deepthroating, sucked hard on the head, and threw her whole neck into it. Given the heightened situation, it didn’t take long for me to know I was going to cum soon. Looking into her eyes, I raised the paper and pen, and signed my name on her official sale form, making the deal final, and eliciting fresh tears from her as she continued to suck. The second I had finished signing, I came in her mouth, spurting my sperm all over the back of her throat. She was sobbing as she held my cum in her mouth before I told her “swallow”. She swallowed, a momentous moment, signalling the end of her final act of service to me. She was no longer of any use to me. The deal was done.
Unclipping her chain, I raised her gently to her feet, and embraced my loving girlfriend in a long hug, her squeezing me tight back. I focused on the moment, feeling her living, real, naked body pressed against mine. Two humans defined by the fate of their birth, pressed together as two equally functioning bodies. “I love you” she whispered, bravely taking the initiative of speech, and I responded gently, “I love you.” And we both meant it. I really did love her. And I would continue to love her when I no longer saw her. Something about knowing that my decision had placed her in chains, in hard torturous labour for the rest of her life, just made my love stronger, as I would have the knowledge that every strain of every muscle on her body, every moment of her life, was working to fulfill something I had set upon her. I may not legally own her any more, but spiritually I would own her over distance forever, because it was my will that consigned her to her new life of hardship.
Five minutes later, I was standing on my front steps, watching Ruby’s tear-filled eyes peek out of the air slots at the back of the transportation truck as it started up and slowly started to move out of my driveway, having backed in. As an impactful send-off, I had my cock out again, already rejuvenated due to the heightened sexuality of the situation, and my new black girlfriend Stella was kneeling naked at my feet, still blindfolded so she wouldn't see Ruby, giving me her very first blowjob as my property, her head bobbing and her lips sucking sloppily as she tried to make a good first impression, still unsure of what her treatment would be. I could see Ruby’s eyes getting further away, filled with misery and pain but also surprise and realisation, and I knew that she was hurting as she saw her replacement, and saw with shock that she was a gorgeous hot curvy black girl, so much more sexual and exciting than her. She knew without a doubt that I had upgraded, and I knew it too. I looked back through the truck slot at her and waved goodbye as the truck turned the corner onto the street and took Ruby out of my life forever.
A few years later, business and browsing led me somehow to the website of the labour slave company. I hadn’t thought about Ruby in a while, but the website brought her right back into the front of my mind, and so I decided to do a bit of browsing through the site. I looked through their images section, designed to show potential sellers what the company used slaves for, and by amazing chance, suddenly, there she was. It took me a delayed second to recognise her. The image was one of many, and I clicked on it to enlarge it. Looking at her face and body, it was unmistakable Ruby. The photo showed her in a sandy, rocky, desert-like area. Stark naked, she was pulling a large cart of rubble and sandy rocks, her whole lithe body straining to shift the weight. Her hair was unevenly hacked relatively short, just above her jawline, though her pubic hair had grown unattended. Her body was covered in dust and grime, and browned and reddened by the burn of the sun, and it was also a little fitter and skinnier, her bones showing a bit more, than when I had kept her, understandably. Her arms, raised either side of her shoulders, were clamped by the wrists into permanent-looking manacles on the extended handles of the cart, and by the looks of the red rubbing around her wrists, they had been restrained there for a very long time. A thick metal collar around her neck also connected her to the cart by a chain. Her legs were captured in mid-step, straining, and her feet looked hard, worn and rough. I examined her surroundings – it was clearly an intensely hot sun that shone in the sky, and the little rocky desert hills stretched for as far as the photo showed. Behind her and a little to the right and out of focus, a male Arab overseer, dressed comfortably in flowing white robes and a head covering, held a cruel-looking black whip in his hand, clearly ready for use. “So this is what my darling Ruby is up to in life these days” I thought, with grim humour. After admiring the strain of her body and the lithe look of her muscular nakedness for a bit, I zoomed in and looked deep into the face of the slave girl in the photo. There, I saw my darling girlfriend of many years, my companion who had shared my bed and body, who had brought me so much pleasure. Her face was furrowed in physical strain and emotional pain, dirty, burnt, and utterly defeated but forced by the captivity of her body to just keep on going. I knew she must dream of her years in my comfortable home, in my comfortable bed, and know that it was the best her life would ever get. Maybe she had thought when she was serving me that by being as obedient and pleasing as she could, she could be granted lifelong companionship by me. Alas, I’m sorry baby. In return for the pleasure she brought me, I gave her a fitting fulfillment for a slave who was born to serve, and now she was continuing to bring me pleasure as I looked upon this photo of her life and thought about how different it turned out to my own.
Beside me in my double bed, as I looked at the photo and mulled these thoughts over in my head, my sexy black slave-girlfriend Stella had her naked body pressed against mine, her chocolatey leg wrapped over me, as we had been lying for ages, and continued to nibble, kiss and suck my neck, just as I liked. I eventually closed the laptop lid on the photo of Ruby, put her out of my mind, and returned my sexual attentions to the beauty beside me.
This is my first story, please give me feedback! I’d love to hear it no matter what it is 🙂
IMPORTANT: All inequality, such as sexism, racism or the concept of slavery, is deplorable. This is simply a way of safely exploring those things which one inexplicably finds themselves turned on by.
,