The Seventh Slave by Sara_Quill

The Seventh Slave

The house was big and imposing, in fact she wouldn’t even call it a house, it was more like a mansion. The dark brick walls rose high up in the air, the shiny windows mirroring the swirling winter clouds, a drop of rain fell onto her cheek. She brushed it off and walked up the marble ramp, next to the stairs.

A fluttering butterfly in her tummy as she stood in front of the big wooden doors. She rang the doorbell and a moment later both the heavy doors swung open and exposed a shiny marble hallway. It stretched out in front of her, there were doors and pillars and all the way in the back there were glass panels that looked out over the back garden.

Behind her the wooden doors fell shut with a loud bang. As if she was in some sort of haunted house. She was a tiny bit nervous, but not scared. Paul was like a celebrity, everyone knew him, ever sub wanted to be dominated by him, she enjoyed the privilege of playing with him once at a party, and she was elated that now she was invited to his house for a more elaborate scene.

Quite some time she waited in the big hallway, not really sure what to do. She walked around and tilted her head in her neck so she could look at the chandelier, and then a mechanical whizzing sounded, startled she took a step backwards. Paul was descending in a glass elevator. Stately he sat there in his wheelchair, looking down on her as the elevator slowly came to her level. The doors opened and he drove his wheelchair into the hallway. A few feet in front of her he stopped. His hair somewhat messy, he had the playful blue eyes and a three day stubble on his cheeks. He didn’t say a thing, he just looked at her intently.

She didn’t know what to do, should she kneel, did the play start already?

‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I’m Laura, we met at –

‘Don’t speak until you’re spoken too.’ He said strictly. ‘I know who you are. I know why you came. Henceforth you will be known as slave number seven, or just Seven for short, understood?’

‘Yes Sir.’ Laura said.

‘Well Seven, are you ready to serve me?’

‘Until 11 pm I’m all yours.’ Laura said.

He tilted his head and squinted his eyes. ‘No.’ He said.

It felt as if she did something wrong, as if she wasn’t good enough for him. She tried to make up for it with a smile. ‘Tomorrow I have to work, I don’t want to be home too late.’ She said.

‘Silence. I told you not to speak until you’re asked a question.’ He said.

Technically he did ask her a question, he asked her if she wanted to serve him. Yet Laura got a happy tingle in her tummy from his strictness. So she pressed her lips together and kept silent.

‘You filled out the negotiation checklist, didn’t you?’ He continued. ‘You gave me a copy of your schedule. So either you trust me and you stay, but then I expect you to obey and play along, or alternatively you could leave now.’

Leave? Laura was a bit startled by this suggestion. Why would he tell her to leave, she wanted to stay, she wanted to play. She craved a dominant, she craved her own submission. There was something in his voice that scared her though, a hunger or a greed. Or was it something within herself that terrified her, the way her body reacted to his hunger and greed, her willingness to be taken.

‘What’s it going to be, Seven?’

‘I’d like to stay please, Sir.’ She said.

‘I’m glad to hear that.’ He said with a kind nod. ‘Now kneel.’

Laura fell onto her knees, she sat straight up, her arms behind her back, her eyes on the floor in front of her.

‘Pretty.’ He said with an approving clack of is tongue. ‘Although I like my slaves to wear a collar. You have permission to approach me.’

She wanted to stand up but he told her to stay down, did he expect her to crawl? For a moment she hesitated and then she approached his chair, she didn’t dare to look him in the eyes, so instead she looked at the stickers he’d put on the side of his chair, there was one sticker of Big Fish, it was in fact that movie and Helena Bonham Carter that first started them talking at that play party. She loved that movie.

‘You have permission to look up.’ He said.

Now she lifted her head. In his hand dangled a collar. It wasn’t just a leather strap though, there was a box attached to the collar. There was a playful mischievous smile on his face. ‘Come on.’ He said. ‘Come and get it.’

She reach out her hand and took the collar from him.

‘Tell me Seven, how eager are you to wear that collar?’

‘Very eager Sir.’

‘Why?’ He asked.

‘Because…’ She stumbled over her own words. ‘Because I want to serve you, and I want to submit to you and I want you to own me and train me.’

‘Good.’ He said. ‘Well just so you know, I don’t allow my slaves to wear any clothes, so you have to pick one or the other. Either keep wearing your clothes, or wear my collar, you can’t wear both.’

Wasn’t he moving a bit too quickly? Was it normal to take off your clothes barely five minutes after entering the guy’s house? What would happen if she chose to keep wearing her clothes, would he tell her to leave again?

‘I want to wear the collar.’ She said.

‘Go ahead.’ He nodded. ‘Strip for me.’ He pressed a few buttons on the tray of his wheelchair and a soft music started playing maybe all throughout his mansion or maybe just in the hallway.

Laura started moving seductively as she unbuttoned her blouse, still kneeling she moved her torso from side to side, pressing her chest forward, giving him a sultry look as she exposed her bra. She’d bought this bra especially for this afternoon, the black lace with the white flowers, when she saw it in the store it felt like a very submissive bra to her, but now, it seemed inappropriate to be wearing a bra in the first place. First she removed her skirt and her pantyhose, she was writhing over the ground to strip the nylon off her legs.

‘Good job number Seven.’ He said approvingly, he was softly panting and one of his hands was resting in between his own legs, maybe he was playing with his own cock. She got excited thinking about that, thinking about his cock, thinking about making him aroused with her own body. Even more seductively and erotic she danced around on the music, taking her bra off end slipping the panties of her hips, then she was told to put the collar on.

She obeyed him and buckled the leather around her own neck, it was soft although where the little box was attached there stuck out two dull metal studs that pressed into her skin.

‘Seven.’ He said, holding up a padlock with the key dangling inside.

She immediately understood what he expected of her, for a moment she hesitated but then she grabbed the padlock and she made sure her collar was locked in place.

‘Now present me the key.’ He said.

Still kneeling next to his wheelchair she put the silver key on the palm of her hands, she didn’t need both hands to lift the key, yet she presented him the key with both hands, she didn’t look at him, she kept her eyes demurely down.

‘Tell me, Seven, Why do you want me to have this key?’ He asked.

‘I want you to own me. I want you to control me. I want to surrender to you.’ She said. He picked the key from her hand and for a moment his finger grazed her thumb, it was a magical touch, a warm tingling glow spread through her skin.

‘So,’ he said. ‘Now you’re ready for training, follow me.’ He pushed the joystick on his wheelchair and he drove of. She wasn’t sure whether she was allowed to stand-up, probably not though, she followed him crawling into the elevator, and she knelt next to his wheelchair as the elevator started to climb.

‘Good girl.’ He said. He reached out for her, and briefly he petted her hair, brushing his hand through her curls, briefly caressing her right above her ear. ‘You’re a quick learner, aren’t you?’

‘Yes sir.’ She mumbled.

He laughed. ‘We’ll see.’ He said mysterious. He brought her into a room that seemed like a split level bedroom, there was a big canopy bed, in the back of the room, with a ramp going up towards it, but in the front of the room, on the lower level there was a little leather bench, and the walls were covered with riding crops and floggers and other BDSM gear she didn’t even know what they were called.

‘Now ever since you’ve entered my house you’ve broken the rules three times.’ He said. ‘Holding up three fingers. You came here wearing clothes, while you knew full well that slaves weren’t allowed to wear clothes and two times you spoke out of turn.’

How else was she supposed to arrive? She couldn’t drive here naked could she? Almost she said something to protest, but then she didn’t want to speak out of turn again. So she pressed her lips together and just stared at the ground.

‘So I need to punish you three times.’ He said. ‘Go kneel on the bench.’

The moments her knees touched the leather padding a white hot flash went through her neck. ‘Ouch, ouch, ouch, fuck, fuck, fuck.’

When the pain stopped she was panting, trying to regain her composure.

‘O no, number Seven.’ He said shaking his head. ‘That’s not the language of a proper slave now is it?’

‘I’m sorry Sir.’ Before she was finished talking he pressed the button again and another painful shock was released into her neck. ‘Fuck. FUCK!’ She couldn’t help but scream.

When the pain faded he was shaking his head. ‘Looks like we’re going to be here a long time.’ He said. Again she was hit with a painful shock.

She couldn’t even utter any words anymore, just some huffing and puffing came from her mouth, when the pain stopped she leaned her head on the leather bench. Why would she voluntarily agree to this? Why would she voluntarily seek this out, it was painful and humiliating and yet her pussy was throbbing, she was aroused and she was filled with a happy lightheaded glow.

‘When a slave gets punished she needs to thank her Master for putting the time and effort into training her, whereas he could also just kick her out of his house for her disobedience.’

‘Yes Sir, Thank you Sir.’ She hasted herself to say.

Yet when the stinging pain in her neck returned it was impossible to talk. There was just this white hot pain overtaking her mind. When the pain faded she mumbled a thank you.

She didn’t know for how long this continued, but she knew she became better and better equipped to deal with the pain. There was a floaty tingle in her brain, almost as if with every shock she stopped thinking a bit more, and she surrendered to him a little bit more. He had total control over her. He controlled her collar, he controlled the electric pulses, he owned the key, he owned her.

Soon she was sobbing and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear, complying with his every command.

‘Good girl.’ He said. ‘That’s the two punishments for speaking out of turn, I think the message has sunk in with you, hasn’t it?’

‘Yes sir.’ She mumbled.

‘Only one more punishment to go.’ He said. ‘Look at my wall, Seven. Look at all those whips, which one do you think would be the appropriate penance for you walking into my house with clothes on?’

Her eyes darting over the wall. She didn’t want to pick the most soft and comfortable flogger, because she didn’t want him to think she was trying to escape her punishment, yet she didn’t want to pick one of those frightening big whips with metal studs all over it. Then her eye fell on a paddle on the left of the wall. It had metal studs but they were arranged in a way they spelled out the word “Slave”, it felt like she was in love with the paddle, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of it, and the butterflies in her stomach were getting more intense as she imagined him hitting her with it, as if he was branding her as his, branding her as his slave.

She tried to ignore that paddle and find another one a milder one, a softer one, but there was no other one that appealed to her in the same way.

‘That one, Sir.’ She said pointing to the paddle.

She was told to go and get it, and then she was told to kneel on the bench again and hit herself.

For a moment she was taken off guard, she’d assumed he would’ve spanked her, but she had to do it all herself. He just ordered her to paddle herself.

‘Harder.’ He said. ‘Harder.’

Until she was hitting herself so hard it actually hurt, she actually yelped in pain, the stinging of the paddle traveling through her ass.

‘Thank you Sir for punishing me.’ She said every time she hit herself and she kept saying it. Her skin glowing and warm, her mind glowing and warm too. It was as if she was sinking deeper and deeper into this surrender. The pain stopped being a pain, it was a sensation of love, of obedience, a sensation of his presences, his power over her.

‘Well done.’ He said. ‘Put the paddle down and follow me.’

She obeyed him, she followed his wheelchair and crawled up the ramp until she sat at his feet.

‘How do you feel Seven?’ He asked.

‘Good Sir.’ She said. ‘Obedient.’

He scoffed. ‘You feel obedient?’ He asked. ‘Wait till you’ve been her for a couple of months, then you’ll know what true obedience feels like.’

‘Yes sir.’ She mumbled.

‘In a moment I want to give you permission to lift me on the bed, but first I need to see you’re capable of touching my body like a respectful slave. So start by kissing my feet.’

She shifted to the front of the wheelchair and pressed her lips against his shoes. She kissed the nose of his shoe, and she kissed the sides of the shoe, she even kissed his shoelaces until she got permission to take the shoe off.

With even more enthusiasm she spread her kisses along the sock, ever so slightly inching towards his ankle, just so she could brush her cheek against his warm skin.

‘Take the socks off too.’ He said.

‘Yes sir.’ She hooked her fingers behind the socks but he interrupted her.

‘With your mouth.’

It wasn’t easy to get a good grip on the sock, she didn’t want to accidentally bite his leg, she tilted her head to the side and tried to use her tongue and teeth and finally she managed to slip the sock of his foot. She rubbed her cheekbone against his instep, and kissed his toes.

‘Next one.’ He said. The second sock was easier to get off, or maybe she knew better what to do.

‘Congratulations.’ He said. ‘You can lift me into the bed now.’ He instructed her what to do, how to sway the tray away from him, how to carry him, one hand beneath his knees one hand behind his back. She put him on the bed.

‘Now hand me the remote control to your collar.’ He said.

Laura saw the little white remote still shimmering on the tray of the wheelchair. She didn’t have to give it to him, right? If she didn’t hand it to him, he couldn’t hurt her, how could he punish her for her disobedience if he didn’t have the remote control. She grabbed the remote, she didn’t want to look for loopholes, she wanted him to have control, she wanted to submit to him. She wanted to turn her own brain off for a while and just rely on him. She gave him the remote.

‘Good girl.’ He said.

He told her to undress him and a moment later he laid naked on the bed. He was smaller and skinnier than she’d expected from seeing him in his wheelchair, yet he was kind of hot. His shoulders and pecs were quite defined and his cock was thick and laying on top of his belly. A thick slightly curvy shaft, a round purple tip.

‘I can see you looking, Seven.’ He said.

She lowered her eyes. ‘I’m sorry Sir.’ She said.

‘It’s okay. Look at it. Isn’t it pretty?’

‘Yes Sir it is.’ She said.

‘So pretty you want to kiss it?’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘You have my permission.’ He said with a friendly nod.

She dove onto his cock, she wrapped her lips around the shaft and tried to swallow as much as she could, she wanted to feel him inside her, she wanted to serve him, pleasure him, please him.

She moved up and down over his shaft until she gagged, yet she kept on going.

‘Look at that enthusiasm.’ He said panting. ‘Well done Seven.’

He was panting and moaning. Every moan that came out of his mouth made her more and more excited, every moan was a testament on how well she could give him head, how well she served him. She tried to make him moan even more, taking the cock into her mouth, into her throat, so deep she could – if only barely – lick his balls. She stuck out her tongue and the tip grazed his skin, luring another moan out of his mouth.

‘Now keep a steady rhythm.’ He said.

She obeyed him. She moved her head up and down, letting the cock slide in and out of her mouth, rhythmically. He was moaning harder, panting heavier, until his body tensed up and he orgasmed into her mouth.

She felt his cum dripping over her tongue, seeping out of her mouth. With her finger she caught the escaped drip of cum and she pushed it back.

‘You did well.’ He said. ‘Come lay with me. Come hug me.’

She wrapped her arms around him, her a leg across his leg, rubbing her pussy against his thigh.

His warm skin comforting her. She was nussling his hair, he smelled amazing.

‘I know you’re still horny.’ He said. ‘But you haven’t earned the privilege to fuck me yet. You show great promise though. So much promise I’d be willing to consider welcoming you into my harem as number Seven officially.’

There was a nervous fluttering in her stomach.

‘How does that sound?’

‘Great Sir.’

‘Awesome.’ He said. ‘There’s a two month probation. Let me call Three and Four, for your aftercare and Five for mine aftercare.’ He pressed a few buttons and a moment later three naked girls entered the room. They knelt next to each other each in the similar position.

‘Why don’t you introduce yourself.’ He said to Laura.

‘I’m Seven.’ She said to the others.

‘What do you say girls?’

‘Welcome Seven.’ They said in unison. He told them what he expected of them, and two of the girls took Laura with them, while the last girl remained and climbed into bed with Master. Laura looked back on Paul and number Five with a stab of jealousy in her chest.

The other girls cared for the bruises on her ass, and they put her in the tub, they gave her some orange juice and fed her some chocolate. It was nice being pampered like that, slowly she returned to the real world, like her floating drifting mind finally tuned in to the world around her. She played a bit with the bubbles in the bath tub. It was quite weird taking a bath with two strange women sitting on the edge. She was both elated about the experience she just had, but also quite sad she wasn’t with Paul anymore.

‘Will I see him again before I go home?’ She asked the other two girls.

‘Definitely.’ They said. ‘He sounded quite pleased with you, I’m Hannah by the way, he calls me Three and this is Tiffany, or Tiffy, he calls her Four.’

‘I’m Laura.’ She said.

‘We know.’ Hannah said. ‘He’s been anticipating your arrival for days. I’ll show you to your room later.’

‘I…’ She mumbled. She didn’t know what to say, she didn’t anticipate sleeping here, staying here, getting her own room. She thought it would be just a play date, maybe if there was a connection she would spend the night once in a while, but she couldn’t move in with someone after just two play dates, could she?

‘Tomorrow I have to work.’ She said.

‘Did you give him your schedule?’ Tiffany asked.

Laura nodded.

‘Just trust him. He knows you have to work and if he deems it necessary that you go, he will order you to go. Otherwise he has other plans for you, you just have to trust he knows what he’s doing.’

‘I don’t know if I can.’ Laura said. ‘I can’t just… put my entire life into his hands, right?’

The two other girls looked at each other and shared a meaningful glance.

‘What?’ Laura asked.

Hannah helped Laura out of the bath and wrapped a big beach towel around her shoulders, both of the girls helped to dry her off and then they showed her to her room. It was quite a luxurious room, with big king sized bed, and a little sitting corner with two arm chairs and a balcony that looked out over the back gardens.

‘Here are your sachets.’ Tiffany said. She opened a drawer and showed Laura. ‘You’re allowed one a day, right before bedtime.’ She picked one of the sachets and shook it back and forth, then she ripped it open en poured the contents into a glass of water. With her finger she stirred it a little bit.

‘It’s gross.’ She said, making a squinting grimace. ‘I’ve tried all flavors, banana is the absolute worst, natural I find… bearable. Just chug it.’

She handed Laura the glass and Laura stared at the cloudy water. She was still a bit rosy from the play and the warm bath. It was as if she hadn’t processed everything that happened yet, she longed for Paul, she wanted to cuddle with him some more. She wanted to talk to him, reflect on their afternoon together.

‘What is it?’ She said sniffing the water. It didn’t have a distinct smell.

‘We have to take it every night.’ Hannah said. ‘It helps us become more obedient and be better slaves to him.’

‘How?’ Laure asked.

Both of them shrugged.

Laura took a little sip. It did indeed taste gross. It was salty and sour but it also seemed to taste like almonds. She chugged it but even before she’d emptied her glass, she felt a weird wave crashing through her body. She grabbed her head.

‘What was that?’ She asked.

‘That’s part of it.’ Hannah said, or did Tiffany say that. She wasn’t quite sure, the world was becoming so hazy all of a sudden. She felt light headed and detached. ‘Finish your drink.’ Someone said pushing the rim of the glass up against her mouth again.

Then they took the glass from her hand and gently pushed her into bed. Laying her down, whipping her pillow, tugging her in.

‘Are you comfortable?’ Someone asked.

‘Yeah…’ she said quite drowsy.

‘Remember how good it felt in the beginning, it’s kind of sad to think we’ve build up a tolerance by now.’ A voice said.

‘Maybe, although he could also be giving us a lower dosages, just for maintenance.’

‘Should I try and take one of her sachets?’

‘I don’t know he might find out and then you’re going to be punished.’

‘I know, I know. I’m just contemplating whether the punishment might be worth it?’

‘Not if he kicks you out all together.’

‘Anyway, Seven?’ A face appeared over her, although it was hard to focus, it seemed like a blur, she was somewhat sleepy and drowsy but at the same time it felt like she wasn’t even there. ‘When you’ve taken your sachets you put on this headset.’ They showed her something that kind of looked like VR-glassed and gently they put it over Laura’s head.

‘The first few days somebody will be here to help you, until you’re able to do it by yourself.’

Laura stared up into the dark glasses and then suddenly a spiral appeared, a humming sound a voice telling her she was getting sleepier and sleepier, a voice telling her she would become the perfect brainwashed slave for him if only she would listen, if only she would obey the voice. It was Pauls voice and she smiled, of course she would obey him, she would do anything for him.

—

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