She obeys eagerly

Araceli wasted no time in obeying the order she was given. Her hands grasped the bottom edge of her tank top and she pulled it up, up, over her eyes. A fleeting bit of imagination had her picture it like a tunnel. Before she entered she was unquestionably a free woman, making her own way in the world. Now she was in the tunnel, and as the collar of her shirt cleared away to let her see again, she was well on her way to being nothing more than property. She casually discarded the inside-out piece of clothing; it didn't matter to her anymore, and judging from how his gaze never left her person, it didn't matter to Trent either.

Next went her shoes. Sandals, simple enough to kick off her feet, even from her kneeling position. Then her shorts. Araceli pulled the button free and the zipper down as quickly as she could, more and more eager to forgo her clothes and freedom with every passing moment. Lifting her hips slightly allowed her to get them down to her knees, revealing the arousal that had soaked into her panties. From there she carefully balanced on the balls of her feet to push them further, then shifted to balancing on her knees with one hand in front of her and another pulling her shorts to get them the rest of the way off. They too were discarded.

The whole time, Trent simply watched in silence. The girls next to Araceli were also silently watching her. A part of Araceli wondered what they were thinking. What did they think of her, watching her so willingly choose to give herself away like this? Did they think her a fool? Naive? A slut? A whore? The darker part of Araceli, which by now was thoroughly in the front seat, thrilled at the idea that they might think so lowly of her.

Her panties clung to her damp, clean-shaven cunt for a moment before coming away as she pulled them down. They were handled similarly to her shorts, being casually kicked aside to leave herself dripping on the wooden deck. Finally she reached up behind herself and unclasped her bra, pulling it free of her chest and unceremoniously dropping it on top of some of her other clothes. Fully nude, she moved her hands back behind her back and looked up at Trent.

The Whipmaster evaluated her for a moment before smiling. "Good ****," he said, sending a shiver through Araceli's body. "Now put on your new uniform."

Araceli reached for the collar first. A strap allowed its tightness to be adjusted, before it fed into a spot where a padlock or pin could hold the collar shut no matter what the wearer did to it. D-rings ran around it, allowing it to be attached to whatever other objects one might desire. She pulled the collar open and wrapped it around her neck, pulling it just tight enough that she wouldn't be able to forget its presence when she breathed or swallowed without it causing her pain or harm. Then she reached for the shackles and chains. Here she avoided making them too tight. Starting with her legs, she pulled them tight enough that they wouldn't slip off but not so tight as to dig into her ankles. She did the same with her left wrist, and then once more moved her hands behind her back and - with only a little fumbling - affixing the last shackle to her right wrist.

Finally, chains binding her ankles together and holding her wrists behind herself, with one last chain going from the chain between her wrists to the chain between her ankles, collar fixed around her throat, Araceli looked up at her master. Trent studied her for a moment before nodding and stepping behind her, brushing some of her hair out of the way. Araceli didn't feel or hear much in particular beyond a few fingers moving along her new restraints, but she was sure that if she could see she would find that they'd been adjusted so that she could not remove them herself anymore.

Finished with his work behind her, Trent stepped back around her and picked up the clipboard and her passport. "I'll need to see to it that these are filed appropriately," he told the new ****. "You will wait here until I return." Araceli nodded submissively.

Trent started to step away before pausing. "Before I forget." So saying, he produced a wooden rod identical to the ones gagging the other slaves. Araceli obediently opened her mouth, allowing the gag to be pushed into place and tied behind her head. That done, Trent walked away, leaving Araceli to stew in her lust and excitement next to her fellow slaves. Some of the free passengers looked at her, a few then saying something to whoever they were speaking to. Araceli squirmed and dripped.