Do you like them?
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“Do you like them?”
She looked so innocent, so vulnerable, as she looked at me. “I hope you like them. They’re very small, I know, but…”
She could have been my daughter. So young, so innocent looking. So pretty. She blushed. “My friend Tina, she says if I…” she blushed prettily. “She says if I suck lots of cocks, they’ll get bigger.” She blushed again. “She says that’s why her tits are so big. She loves cocksucking.”
I touched each soft, rosy nipple. I didn’t want those lovely little globes to be any bigger. “They don’t put you off, do they? Being so small?” Her eyes were pleading. My trousers were suddenly way too tight. “Will you teach me, please? Will you teach me how to suck cock?”
I said nothing, too busy enjoying the view. “Shall I take the rest of my clothes off? Before…? Would you like that?” I nodded, silently.
She stood, her dress sliding to the floor, leaving her wearing just a pair of chaste cotton panties. This was looking better and better. Flat belly, slim hips, strong slender thighs, shapely calves. Her feet were delicate and high arched. I looked pointedly at the panties, raising an eyebrow. She looked down, blushing again. “Must I?” Her voice was an almost inaudible whisper. “I’m shy.” This time I raised both eyebrows.
She slid the garment down her hips, probably the last time she would ever wear anything like that. Her hands moved to cover the smooth mound and cleft thus revealed. “Take your hands away,” I said softly, “never, never ever try to cover yourself. That is your owner’s property, you have no right to try and hide it. He, or she, will decide how it is to be displayed and used.” I stroked the satin soft mound, my finger tracing the tight, slightly damp, slit below. “It’s permanent. Tina said men would like it like that, especially built the way I am.” I nodded, Tina clearly knew a thing or two.
“You are a virgin?” She nodded, silently. “And your butthole?” Her eyes went wide! Clearly, she hadn’t thought of being used like that. “Yes,” a soft whisper. “And I gather from your request that I teach you about oral sex that you have not experienced that either?” She shook her head, her head low. “And yet you say you want to spend the rest of your life as a sex slave?” Again, she nodded. “Please. I’ve dreamed about it since I was a girl. Please?”
We spent the next hour going through the documents. She was clearly uncomfortable being naked but equally was determined to carry on. Finally, and with some determination, she said, “Where do I sign?”
“It’s not quite as simple as that. There have to be two independent witnesses to witness your signature, to attest that it is entirely of your own free will, and to witness to your collaring.” She nodded again, “Where do we find them?” I smiled, “Strangely there are many volunteers for the job. My secretary has called two of them, they should be here in a few minutes.” She got up, walking over to her abandoned dress. “You won’t need that,” I said softly. “You are wearing all you need for the signing.
“But, but, there will be strangers coming here. They can’t see me like this?” I laughed, “Why do you think there are so many volunteers, darling? In any case, you will be in the showroom tomorrow. There will be lots of strangers there, and they will be doing more than looking at you.” I opened a cupboard and extracted a collar. It was two inches wide, made of heavy black leather. Between the layers of leather was a titanium mesh, impossible to cut without special tools. It fitted snugly around her throat. I didn’t lock it, that would come later. “237/21,” I read the number engraved on the plate. “That is who you are now, your former name is irrelevant.”
My secretary led in the two witnesses. One was a big-bellied man in his fifties. The other, a youth who looked to be the same age as 237, did a double take. “Megan! What are you doing here? I never thought of you as…” His voice tapered off, embarrassed. “Gentlemen you are here to witness the enslaving and collaring of slave 237/21.” She handed the girl a pen. “Sign here, to certify that you are over eighteen, and here to agree to your enslavement.” 237 signed, her hand steady. I stepped up and placed the collar around her neck. “Once locked, only your owner can unlock it. That is unlikely to happen.” The lock clicked, a final sound. “237, you are now a slave, for the rest of your life. You will be sold tomorrow. Hold out your hands!” She obeyed, overwhelmed by her change in status. The leather cuffs fitted snugly, the locks engaging smoothly. I moved her hands behind her, clicked the links.
The young man who had witnessed her enslavement watched, spellbound. “You’re going to be in the showrooms tomorrow? I’ll tell all our classmates. Good luck, I hope somebody nice buys you.”
I led her down to the holding cells. There were seven other girls and one young man in the dormitory. All were destined for sale the next day, each one chained to a bed by their collars, their hands cuffed behind them. Before I handed her over to the old crone who feed them, water them and prepare them for the showrooms the next day, I turned 237 to face me. “To answer your first question,” I said, kissing each pink nipple. “I like them a lot! The more so because when you are sold tomorrow, you, and those pretty little tits, will be making a significant contribution to my bank account. A three-way virgin is a real rarity!”
Her lovely grey eyes met mine, tears welling up. “Thank you.”