A New World
III - Meeting the Master
Toe awoke the next day, surprised to not feeling the harsh stream of water from the fire
hose. She looked around groggily, her head pounding with the slightest motion, and
noticed that the other cages around her were empty. Her wakefulness, however, was
observed, and a Trainer quickly arrived to lead her out into the dining hall. Unknown to
toe, it had long been understood that a slave who had undergone the amount of
physical abuse she had just experienced needed time to recover. Slaves were valuable
commodities, particularly the young, healthy and innately submissive, like her.
Recovery didn't mean pampering, true rest or relaxation; quite the contrary, other than
her longer-than-usual sleep, she'd be exerting herself all day and most of the night just
like the rest of the slaves. What was different was that she'd be given extra food and
water rations, additional medications to both heal her injuries and help her regain her
strength, and a special regimen of work and exercise until she was deemed fully
recovered.
Instead of the dry kernels toe had been fed before, she was now provided with a pasty,
oatmeal-looking gruel. Thick and chunky, it contained a high calorie, high protein, high
carbohydrate mixture of natural and artificial substances, along with large amounts of
the antibiotics her body needed right now. It tasted like its primary ingredient, cooked
liver, but toe barely noticed the taste. She slopped it all down quickly, fearful that if she
took too long it would be taken from her. It wasn't enough to stop the ache in her belly,
but on medical advice, slaves who hadn't eaten in three days - or, in toe's case, two
meager meals in an entire week - needed to be restricted to small portions. So, toe
would be fed five meals instead of the customary two for the next 24 hours, until her
belly had time to adjust.
Following her meal, toe was taken back to the clinic, where her humiliating medical
exam had taken place. This time, though, it was not nearly as bad. The examination
was nearly what a free person would consider normal; blood pressure, pulse,
temperature, listen to the lungs, draw blood for testing, a quick EKG, and it was over.
Still lethargic and tired from her recent maltreatment, she knelt there staring at
nothingness while the Doctor completed his assessment.
"She's a little anemic," the Doctor said, "but nothing that two days of light duty won't
cure. Make sure she eats, nothing more or less than what I've prescribed," he
instructed toe's escort.
"You got it, Doc," the Trainer said, snapping his leash back on toe's collar. "Okay, cunt,
let's go," he ordered, leading the crawling girl out of the building.
Toe's duties for the next two days truly were light; all she had to do was set the tables in
the staff dining room, remove the dishes when they were finished, and bring beverage
refills. She heard snippets of conversation, most of which didn't make any sense to her
at all, but a few things she understood. She wasn't returned to her cage that night or
the next, instead being directed to a corner of the dining room where her collar was
locked to a ring in the floor. Unable to move from her position, toe was at least able to
stretch out and get better sleep than she had in her cage, a single worn blanket the only
thing protecting her from the cold tile floor. She found it to be more comfortable to use
it in this manner than as a cover. Even for this small privilege, she was thankful.
She continued to receive five small meals each day, and was even permitted to take a
short daily shower, with warm water and real soap. Toe instinctively understood this
was a special privilege, and not something she should expect on a regular basis. She
had noticed the stench of unwashed female slave the moment she entered the slave
quarters for the first time; bathing of any form during training would be infrequent, and
to use warm water and soap was nearly unheard of. Once in the possession of her
Owner, whether she bathed or not would be at that person's discretion.
On the morning of the third day - the morning she came off light duty - she was taken
back to the slave mess hall for a breakfast with the other the slaves, given the same dry
kibble and a few sips of milk from the penis-shaped dispenser. After eating, toe and
two of the other slaves - who she'd never seen before - were singled out and chained
together, nose ring to cunt ring once more, before being led out of the room. Toe was
the last girl this time, her face firmly planted between an older, slightly overweight
slave's thick thighs. The woman had been used just before breakfast, toe realized, as
the semen dripped from the swollen sex in front of her face. Toe tentatively stuck her
tongue out, letting the sticky fluid drip into her mouth. She found the taste strange, but
not unpleasant; almost enjoyable, in fact.
Crawling through a maze of hallways and through a myriad of sliding security doors, the
small group finally arrived at their destination. This area was a far cry from what toe
had seen so far. Unlike the slave quarters or dining hall, with their dull brick walls and
grey concrete floors, this place was brightly illuminated, the walls in muted pastels, the
floors covered with plush carpet. Clean, but not like the sterility of the clinic. Well-lit
and climate controlled, lacking the stale, musty, dirty odors toe noticed everywhere
else. Her first thought was how nice the thickly padded carpet felt beneath her bruised
and scraped knees. Her knees were still in the pain from the constant crawling, but
would toughen soon enough. For now, she just basked in the sensation of plush
softness. Her second thought was how pristine everything was - nothing out of place,
not even a speck of dust that she could see. The place even smelled clean, almost
sweet and home-like, unlike the stagnant air of the slave wing. This was her first
exposure to the staff quarters.
Unclipped from each other and quickly chained to floor rings, the slaves kneeled with
their knees widely spread and head bowed. Using only her peripheral vision, toe could
see slaves in various states of partial dress and complete nudity scurrying around what
appeared to be some sort of large foyer, some carrying covered trays while others were
diligently cleaning. The thing that struck toe most incongruously was the absolute
beauty of the working slaves she saw. Each different, yet somehow identical. Tight,
well-toned skin; taut, upright breasts; impeccable makeup. Everything about them
seemed so perfect, so opposite of how wretched she felt right now, kneeling naked on
the floor, hungry, her joints aching from the abuses already inflicted on them, the still-
uncomfortable feeling of her new piercings. Feeling sorry for herself and the
predicament she now found herself in, she was stifling a sob when a harsh voice broke
thoughts.
"Which of you is toe?" demanded a, barrel-chested man of about forty. Toe looked up
at him before responding, immediately trembling in fear. Tall and muscular, with a bald
head that only emphasized his dominant appearance, he wore black leather trousers
and a matching vest to go with his superbly polished boots. The second thing toe
noticed was how hairy he was, with a thick, curly mop of black hair covering what she
could see of his chest. His mere appearance terrified the young girl, causing her to
cringe even before she dared answer.
"I am, sir," she barely whispered, wiping the back of her hand under her nose, causing
her piercing to move painfully.
"First lesson, cunts," the man addressed them all. "I am 'Master.' Every other man
here is 'Master.' There are two words which no longer exist in your vocabulary, 'no,'
and 'I.' Unless instructed otherwise, you will refer to yourselves by your slave name, as
'the slave,' 'this slave,' or 'a slave.' The first and last words out of your mouths will be
'Master.' Now, in unison, do you understand what I've just told you?"
"Master, yes, Master," the three quivering girls answered.
"Very good. Now, let's try my first question again. Which of you is called toe?'
"Master, I'm...I mean...this slave is called toe, Master," she answered, cringing at her
mistake.
"One demerit," the Master commented. "The first mistake didn't count, because you
are obviously too stupid to know how to speak properly. I'll expect better in the future.
Now, come with me, bitch," he said, unsnapping her from the ring and literally dragging
her with him by the collar. Toe couldn't crawl fast enough to keep up, and was painfully
lifted off the floor by her collar twice. topping at a door about halfway down the hall, he
stopped momentarily and pressed his palm to a small panel while toe coughed and
tried to catch her breath.
"Biometric locks," he told toe. "Don't try using them. They open only to specific staff
members. Unauthorized users receive a shock that can cause tissue damage and
knock you unconscious. After that, you'll be punished. You really don't want to be
punished," he emphasized ominously.
He led her into what were apparently his living quarters. It was nicely furnished, but not
even close to the surroundings she'd lived with in her previous, privileged life. The
furniture was functional and the apartment clean, but there was nothing special or
extravagant about it. Perhaps a step above working class, about what a junior manager
in a company, or a mid-ranking government official might have. Toe was given a quick
tour of the residence. Just five rooms: a kitchen, bedroom, living room, study and
bathroom.
The living room was rather small, with a simple leather couch and recliner, coffee table
and entertainment center. It looked comfortable enough, toe thought, but her comfort
was of no consequence.
The kitchen was nice and modernly equipped, even containing a dishwasher -
something toe found incongruous, since she'd been washed literally thousands of
dishes by hand since arriving here. Toe recognized the quality, though not the brand
name, of the cook set hanging from the rack above the food preparation table. She
prayed silently that she wouldn't be expected to cook much; this was an art in which
she had little skill.
The bathroom was likewise functional, containing a sink with a vanity and medicine
cabinet, a single white porcelain commode, and both a large spa-type tub and a shower
stall. One of the first things toe noticed were the rings imbedded into the walls of the
shower and the ceiling above; their use was obvious.
The largest room in the apartment, as one might expect in a place such as this, was the
bedroom. A king-sized pedestal bed with a huge oak bookcase headboard dominated
the room, attachment points for restraints not too obvious, but still quite visible if one
knew what to look for. A similarly large, matching oak triple dresser rested against one
wall, the surface gleaming from hours of painstaking polishing by the Master's previous
trainees. Across from the foot of the bed were two sliding, mirrored doors, behind
which lay an eight foot long walk-in closet. Master's clothing was neatly pressed and
arranged by type and color...coats on the left, trousers in the middle, shirts on the right,
all set from dark to light. A half dozen impeccably shiny pair of shoes and boots were
lined up on the floor. Then toe saw it, and a shiver ran down her spine. A single, small
section of the floor where the carpet was replaced with a concrete pad, upon which a
cage - just like that in which she'd restlessly dozed in the slave quarters - sat. She
knew at that moment that sharing this man's bed was too much to even wish for; her
place would be in her cage, like the animal she was becoming.
Toe wasn't shown the study, only given the same warning about the biometric lock on
the door. Had she been permitted to explore it, she would have found nothing other
than an apparently totally functional work space. What she didn't realize was that the
study was her Master's work center, where he would upload, download, track and
compile all manner of information about his new charge. Every known fact and many
suppositions about here were stored in the mainframe computer to which his terminal
accessed. The combined knowledge of years of experience in training slaves was
available at his fingertips, as was immediate consultation with those specializing in the
medical, psychological and other aspects of toe's transformation. He could
continuously track toe through her microchip implant, and through the multitude of
digital cameras throughout the facility, watch her every move and listen to every sound
she and those around her made. None of this was important to toe, though, except in
the most esoteric of ways; her life revolved around nothing more than being obedient
and learning how to be the perfect slave. How this was accomplished mattered not to
her.
"You're a lucky cunt, you know, toe?" he said, looking down at the kneeling girl and
apparently waiting for an answer.
"Master, no...I mean...uh...this slave does not understand what the Master means,
Master, " she replied, still trembling in fear of this hairy giant who had total control over
her life.
"Almost right. Half a demerit," he said, jotting it down in his ever-present notebook.
"What I mean, is your 'girlfriends' on the other side of the compound will be sleeping on
a concrete floor, eating slop from a trough, and doing scut work like laundry and
scrubbing toilets all day and half the night, then spend the other half of the night being
gang-raped. They'll be punished simply because they're slaves. Here, you'll have the
opportunity to earn the privilege of sleeping in my bed with me at times, you'll get real
food on a regular basis, and the only time you'll be punished is if you displease me.
Now, don't you feel lucky?"
"Master, yes, Master. This slave feels extremely lucky, Master."
"Half a demerit. You began a sentence without saying 'Master.'"
"But you said..." toe began, then clasped her hands over her mouth in horror at her
outburst.
"Three more demerits. Two for insolence and another for failing to call me 'Master.'"
Toe just kneeled on the floor silently, her eyes lowered. It wouldn't do to cause her
Master to get angry at her, and God only knows what happens with these demerits. The
Master left her for a moment, returning with a small file and sitting down to read through
it. He would occasionally look up at toe curiously as he was reading. Finally, he spoke.
"Do you know what this is, toe? he asked.
"Master, no, Master," she responded dutifully.
"It's your file. It contains every known fact about you, at least all known so far. Your
family, where you were raised, what schools you went to, even the complaint against
you that resulted in your current status. You don't know why you're a slave, do you,
toe?"
"Master, except for having been convicted of something, no, Master," she replied.
"It really doesn't matter, you realize? The fact is that you're a slave now, and you'll die a
slave. Your future can be reasonably comfortable, or it can be harsh and filled with
pain. Part of that outcome is up to you. Would you prefer a life filled with deprivation
and pain, or one of relative ease and comfort?"
"Master, toe would prefer a life of comfort, but she understands that it's not really up to
her, Master. Master, whether the slave's life is harsh or comfortable is up to the desires
of her Master. The slave would like to beg that the Master train her to be the best, most
obedient slave possible, Master."
"Yes, you were always taught to be the best you could be, weren't you? I suppose as a
slave, that trait would still exist," he commented, making a notation in her file. "Oh, by
the way...another half demerit for failing to preface your last sentence with 'Master.'"
"Master, may toe ask a question, Master?"
"About what"
"Master, about demerits, Master."
"You may," he granted.
"Master, what happens with demerits, Master? I...toe means, she knows demerits
result in punishment, but is there, like a matrix or something, Master?"
"No matrix or anything of the sort. It's purely slave against slave. Each week, slaves
with demerits - except the one with the lowest total - are punished. The one with the
least amount of demerits is rewarded. Depending on how many demerits and the mood
of her Master, reward could range from a full day off to a special food treat. As far as
punishments for the rest of the slaves, that is also up to the discretion of her Master. I
suppose I should let you know that I'm not the sort of Master who enjoys inflicting pain,
but I will certainly do so if need be."
"Master, thank you for explaining that, Master."
"You're welcome, toe. Oh, do you know how many times you fucked up asking your
question?" he asked, grinning.
Hesitating for a moment with her face crunched up in thought, she replied, "Master, the
slave believes she used a prohibited word once, and failed to say 'Master' once,
Master."
"You are an intelligent little cunt. Yes, that's exactly what you did. Half a demerit
because you recognized your error. You should know, though that starting tomorrow,
it's one full demerit, and no leniency for admitting a mistake. If you do fuck up,
however, and it's something you've already been taught, the punishment doubles. The
fact that you've shown such intelligence means you have no excuse."
"Master, the slave understands, and will do her best not to fuck up, Master," toe replied
humbly.
"I suppose I should let you in on one other thing. You're no longer a 'she,' but an
object, a thing. No more 'she' or 'her.' From now on, you're an 'it,' nothing more than a
piece of property, to be used as your Master desires. Understand?"
"Master, toe understands, Master."
"Very good, toe," he said, reaching down and patting her on the head. "I hope you
learn all your lessons as quickly."
"Master, toe only wishes to become the best, most obedient slave that ever existed,
Master."
"Being a slave, it intrigues you, doesn't it? You've wondered what life would be like as a
slave, haven't you?"
"I...uh...Master,...uh..." she fumbled. "Yes, Master," her voice said softly.
"That's in your file, you know.," he said, ignoring her lapse this once. "Your
psychological profile. It says you have a natural, repressed submissiveness that makes
you an ideal slave. You feel best about yourself when you're serving others. That's
why you volunteered as a tutor, and why you worked so hard on the track team. It
wasn't about you, it was about helping others, making the team excel. You were
identified as a potential slave a long time ago, toe. Just let your inner submissive out,
and you'll make your Master proud."
"Master, yes, Master. Master, may the slave make a request, Master?" the kneeling girl
asked.
"Yes, but remember, that doesn't mean I'll necessarily grant the request."
"Master, may toe please have permission to use the toilet, Master?" she asked,
blushing.
"Why?" he replied. "For what specific purpose?"
"Master...uh...toe's bladder is full, Master," she answered, humiliated at the need to
explain such a thing.
"So you're asking permission to piss? Is that it?" he inquired, grinning cruelly at her
physical and emotional discomfort.
"Master, yes, Master. Master, may toe have permission to...uh...piss, Master?"
He waited a moment before answering. "No, I don't think so. You have chores to do
first, and then, if you do a decent job, I'll reconsider. Oh, and I wouldn't even think of
pissing on my floor. That's worth 100 demerits, plus and extra thousand for
disobedience. Now, why don't you go get started on the dishes?"
"Master, yes, Master," she whimpered, allowing herself to be led into the kitchen.
Toe's Master watched carefully as she scrubbed, dried and put the morning dishes.
Seeing the scraps of egg, sausage and toast made her realize just how famished she
was. The change from the warm, thick medical diet to the handful of hard, tasteless
morsels she'd been fed earlier had affected her. She'd felt hunger ever since her
arrival here, but now, the grumbling of her stomach was overwhelmed only by the
cramping caused by her overfilled bladder.
Once the dishes were done, the Master continued to supervise toe in the rest of her
morning chores; sweeping and mopping of the kitchen floor, dusting all the apartment's
furniture, vacuuming the carpets, cleaning the bathroom, and finally, making the
Master's bed. It was during this last task, retrieving clean linen - the Master explained
that she would put fresh sheets on his bed daily - that she felt the first little trickle of
pee.
"Please, Master, I can't hold it any more," she whimpered, crossing her legs in a feeble
attempt to stem the trickle of urine making its way down her thighs.
"Twenty more demerits, toe. Not only did you speak improperly, but you repeated a
request that had already been denied...and you didn't ask for permission to speak.
Make that ten demerits, actually," he said, jotting them down in his ever-present book.
"I will give you a choice, though, toe. You can pee right here and take the hundred
demerits, or you can hold your bladder through a spanking."
"Master, please, will toe be permitted to piss after the spanking, Master?" she wailed,
her legs trembling as she tried to keep from releasing her bladder.
"Yes, I'll allow you to pee afterwards."
"Master, toe would like the spanking, Master," she answered softly, tears already
forming in her eyes.
"Over my knee, then, toe, but if you get so much as a drip of piss on me, you'll have
much more than a few hundred demerits to worry about. You'll go straight to the
motivation unit. If you thought your first few days here were bad, motivation unit will
make them seem a fond, pleasant memory."
As toe positioned herself over the Master's lap, he took out a heavy wooden paddle.
Telling her to brace herself, he gave 10 quick, hard swats, causing her to cry out in
pain. Her bare ass was bright red well before the last swat.
"From now on, toe, you'll count them aloud or they won't count, and if you scream or
miss a count, we start over. Understood?" he asked, dumping the bawling girl onto the
floor.
"Master,. yes, Master," she sobbed. "Master, may toe please piss now, Master?" the girl
begged, clamping her thighs together in pain.
"In a moment," he answered. "First of all, slaves aren't permitted to use the toilet, so go
crawl back into the kitchen. Under the sink you'll find your dish; it has your name on it.
Get it and bring it back to me." He watched as the girl scampered away on all fours,
returning a moment later with a plastic bowl with "toe" scrawled on it..
"Squat over the bowl, toe, but don't do anything else until I tell you."
"Master, yes, Master," she responded, assuming the position he directed. He made her
remain in the squatting position until she was sure her trembling legs would give out,
finally giving her he command to release herself. The urine came out in a torrent,
splashing out of the bowl and onto the floor, before she was finally able to stem the flow
enough to prevent further splattering. It didn't matter, though, because this was all part
of the Master's plan.
"Did you spill, toe?" he asked her when she was finished, the last drops clinging to her
ringed labia.
"Master, yes, Master. Master, toe begs forgiveness, Master," she answered, cringing at
the punishment she expected.
"Another choice, toe," he explained. "100 demerits and a whipping - not just a
spanking, but a real whipping - or you clean up your mess." He paused a moment, and
toe looked up at him expectantly. "With your tongue," he finished. "Decide now!"
Without answering, toe immediately dropped her face to the floor and began slurping
the urine up from the cold tile floor. The acrid taste burned her mouth, but she knew
the alternative would be much worse. Finally finished, she returned to her upright
kneeling position.
"You're not done, toe," her Master chastised. "There's still piss in your bowl."
Toe turned red in humiliation at what she was about to do, but obediently lowered her
face down to the bowl and began lapping the warm yellow liquid up. When the bowl
was finally empty, her face was soaked, piss dripping from her nose ring. She saw that
she'd dripped onto the floor again, and without waiting for a command, immediately
licked the tiny pools up.
"Good girl," the Master praised, patting her on the head again. "You have the makings
of becoming a fine slave."
"Master, thank you, Master," he responded automatically now, her stomach doing flips
as the urine sloshed inside her.
"Hmmm," the Master commented almost absentmindedly, looking at his watch. "It
looks like we've missed the noon meal. I guess a sandwich will have to suffice. Go
make me one. Salami and Swiss on rye, with mustard. Everything is in the refrigerator.
There won't be time for you; you're already late for class."
The excitement toe initially felt at the prospect of food was quickly replaced with
disappointment in knowing she'd continue to go hungry. However, she obediently
scampered into the kitchen and prepared her Master's meal. He took the sandwich in
one hand and her leash in the other, happily munching away as he palmed the door
open and led her down the hallway to her first day of classes.
