The captured Amazons learn their fates

Rachel groaned as she orgasmed from the dildo she was being forced to ride as the rocking horse bondage horse beneath her continued to rock. Once again, the dildo filling her mouth shot a stream of salty gruel into her mouth. She sucked it down, gagging on the salty taste. She had learned that trying to spit it out only made the device under her buck wildly, and trying to keep it in her mouth was much worse than swallowing.

"Don't worry," one of the men keeping an eye on her said with mock sympathy. He ran his hand down the curve in her spine, making her flinch. "You'll like the taste of the real thing more than the gruel, or you'll learn to at least." The two men laughed at his comment.

"You know, I've got to give her credit. She's been riding her pony for almost an hour," the other man said as he approached, holding a black leather slave collar in one hand. "Do you want this yet, girlie? Blink twice if you do."

"An hour? Has it really been an hour? Or, is he just saying that?" Rachel's mind began to race. She had often lied to women she had captured to convince them to wear a slave collar in the past. First, she would tie the woman upside down, or in some other uncomfortable position. Then, she would place a discipline helmet on the unfortunate woman’s head. The thick, hardened leather and thick padding of the discipline helmet would leave the woman in total darkness, unable to see or hear anything. Then, all she would have to do is wait a few minutes. When the helmet came off, the woman wouldn’t know the difference between ten minutes and four hours.

As she tried to work out how much time had actually passed, the dildo in her mouth delivered another helping of the salty gruel. She quickly swallowed it before looking at the collar in the man’s hand, then at the man. She began to rapidly blink. “Well, I’ll be boys. Another woman accepts her place in life,” the man with the collar said as one of the others shut off the machine. As soon as the bondage horse came to a complete stop, the collar was placed around Rachel’s neck.

“Well, that’s three,” Thorsten said in an emotionless tone that made Kaycee’s blood run cold. The Amazonian Ambassador watched with tears welling in her eyes as she watched Rachel receive her first spanking as a collared slave girl, then suck the cock of the man that had spanked her before the other two men took their own turns.

As she watched, Kaycee clenched her jaw. She knew it was her turn. She knew that she would be padded until she wanted to be a slave girl. She also knew that no matter how much, or how soon she did whatever they demanded she do to signal that she wanted to wear a collar, how much she would suffer before it was placed around her neck was completely up to them.

Rachel was brought in, now dressed as a proper slave girl in a light blue and black satin half-bra, matching skirt, and black open-toed shoes with six-inch stiletto heels. Her arms were held behind her in a light blue leather single glove. The man holding her leash tethered it to the wall next to their fellow former Amazons turned slave girls, and Rachel immediately stood as a proper slave girl should. Feet shoulder-width apart and bent slightly at the waist.

Kaycee's already racing heart pounded harder and faster when she felt the weight of the paddle that had been left on her lower back disappear. She was surprised when Thorsten unfastened and removed the ball gag from her mouth. Seconds later, the first swat landed with a crack that echoed around the small room like thunder.

Kaycee gasped and coughed as all of the air in her lungs seemed to leave her body all at once. The second swat landed just above where the first had. "AAAAHHH!" Kaycee screamed and began to pull at the cuffs and fight against the straps that held her in place, even though she knew it was pointless.

"Wow, that one's got a set of lungs," one of the men laughed.

"Well, Tommy, you know the old saying, right?" Thorsten asked in an amused tone. "The louder the scream, the more she'll make you cream." The men laughed at the comment, filling Kaycee with rage. She began to scream muffled and incomprehensible obscenities at the group of men.

“Temper, temper,” one of the men said teasingly. “Mister Condree, I think I’d do something about her temper if I were you.”

“Oh, you mean like this?” Thorsten asked before delivering the third swat across the backs of her thighs, making her howl in pain. When she calmed again, he bent down near her ear. “When you’ve had enough, I want to hear you say, ‘I don’t want to be an Amazon. I want to be a good little slave girl.’”

“Fuck off! I’ll never be a slave girl!” Despite her defiant tone, Thorsten and the other men knew the Amazonian Ambassador wouldn’t last much longer. Thorsten delivered the next swat, landing it across the swell of her ass cheeks. Then another and another and another. The room was filled with the constant dueling echoes of the crack of wood against defenseless flesh and Kaycee’s screams and sobs.

“You know what you have to do!” Thorsten shouted over the combined sounds of the latest swat, and Kaycee’s scream. Her voice had begun to turn slightly hoarse. Thorsten smiled to himself as the paddle met flesh again.

“Eighteen,” he thought. “She’s holding out longer than I might have thought, but she’ll break sooner or later.” H slowly pulled the paddle back, ready to deliver the next painful swat.

“Stop! Stop! Stop! I don’t want to be an Amazon anymore. I want to be a good little slave girl!”

"I knew you would," Thorsten said in a satisfied tone. He handed the paddle to one of the other men, who took it and hung it on the wall. One of the other men left the room and returned soon after with a straight-backed chair. While the two other men did this, Thorsten placed a ball gag in Kaycee's mouth and the slave collar around her neck. "Bring her here, guys," Thorsten said with an eager smile as he sat in the chair.

A quiet whimper escaped from Kaycee’s mouth as she realized what was coming. Her first spanking as a slave girl. She didn't want to be spanked on her already burning backside, but she had no choice. She was only a slave girl. The irony of the fact that she herself had done this to countless beautiful women was not lost on her. Knowing she would only make things worse for herself, she didn't struggle when one of the men freed her from the bench. The last things to be undone were the leather cuffs holding her wrists. As soon as they were, the man placed her hands behind her back and put a pair of steel cuffs with a soft faux fur lining inside of them, once again making her arms and hands useless to her.

"Here you go, boss," the man said as he led her over to Thorsten's side.

"I believe you know the routine," he said as he pat his lap. Kaycee’s shoulders slumped, and she lowered herself across his lap. She was only a slave girl, and her only real choice now was obedience.

As soon as she was in position, her first spanking as a slave girl began, and Thorsten showed her no mercy. His hand fell fast and hard on her bruised and swollen ass cheeks, making her scream into her gag and kick her feet wildly. Finally, after what, to her, felt like a hundred, Kaycee was lifted off of Thorsten’s lap, then forced to her knees in front of him. He undid his pants and took out his cock before removing the ball gag from Kaycee’s mouth. The Former Amazonian Ambassador didn’t wait to be told. She took him into her mouth and sucked his cock until she swallowed a mouthful of his cum.

Her torment didn’t end there, however. Each of Thorsten’s men took their own turn to spank her and have her lips wrapped around their cocks. When the last man was satisfied, he replaced her ball gag as all the others had before him. As he stood, Kaycee remained kneeling with her head bowed and her still tear-filled eyes looking at his feet. “Well, now that we’ve all had our fun, would a couple of you mind taking Rachel to get changed for her new owner?”

“Sure thing,” one of the men said as he and another moved toward Rachel. Part of Kaycee wished Rachel would try to fight, but she knew she wouldn’t. The men left with her, most likely to have at least one pair of serving girls dress her as her new owner wanted. A few minutes later, they returned, and Kaycee gave a sympathetic whimper for Rachel. The dark-haired, newly collared slave girl now wore a black leather bondage harness with a matching head harness. A black bit gag filled her mouth, and two red plastic blinders kept her eyes focused straight ahead. Two leather horse ears were above her own, and a red feather plume stuck up from the center of her forehead. Kaycee guessed that her arms were behind her in a single glove, and she had already heard the pronounced clip-clop the horse hoof-shaped boots made with each step.

“I wonder what kind of pony she’ll be?” Kaycee wondered, looking at Rachel with sympathy. Thorsten smiled at Kaycee, then retrieved Amber and Allesandra, and had the three stand so they faced the kneeling former ambassador.

“In case you’re wondering, slave girl,” he said, putting particular emphasis on addressing her simply as ‘slave girl,’ “These two,” he paused, placing a hand on one of each of Amber and Allesandra’s shoulders, “Are headed to work in a brothel that a client of mine owns in Miami. He tells me the men and women who frequent it will pay anything he asks to be serviced by a former Amazon.”

“Oh no,” Kaycee thought as her eyes went wide. It had always been rumored, even in Themyscira, that life in a brothel for slave girls who had once been slavers, particularly Amazons, was far more unpleasant than that of the other whores.

“As for your other friend, the mayor has been looking for a pretty new pony for his carriage team.” Kaycee felt a wave of nervousness wash over and her heart began to race once more. That only left one question: her own fate as a slave girl. “One of my female clients with… a particular taste,” Thorsten said in a tone that made Kaycee’s skin crawl, “paid me a small fortune in gold for you. Gentlemen, have the serving girls been told about her special preparations?”

“They have jefe, and they're waiting to get her ready for her new life,” the lone Hispanic man said.

“Fuck!” Kaycee thought, her eyes wide with fright. “I’m going to be a serving girl.” A single tear rolled down Kaycee’s face as she thought of her long dark hair being shaved off, leaving her bald and her face hidden behind a black leather or latex mask. She was so lost in the dread of her future that she didn’t notice Thorsten clipping a leash to her collar, or even that she had clumsily risen to her feet when he pulled on the leash. When she realized she was taking her first shaky steps as a salve girl and having to get used to walking in stilettos without her arms for balance, she wondered how long it would be before she moved with effortless grace.

They arrived at the nearest changing room, and she was placed between two metal poles. Each pole had two cuffs on it, one at the top and one near the bottom. One for each wrist and each ankle. She was quickly secured in them, leaving her spread-eagled and vulnerable. She was left looking at a mirror, and in the reflection, she could see a pair of serving girls kneeling behind her. They were naked except for their black masks, posture collars, and stilettos.

Thorsten clapped his hands, and one of them gracefully rose to her feet. She walked over to a cabinet and grabbed something that, for the moment, Kaycee couldn’t see what it was. The serving girl kept it hidden behind Kaycee’s reflection as she approached. Only when she was right behind Kaycee, and just before she put it in place, did the former Amazon see that it wasn’t the mask she had convinced herself it would be. Instead, it was a discipline helmet made of hardened black leather. Unlike most discipline helmets, this one left her mouth and chin visible. The serving girl quickly put the helmet over Kaycee’s head and locked it into place. The only thing Kaycee could see was total darkness, and the only thing she could hear was the sound of her own breathing.

The ball gag was removed from Kaycee’s mouth, and as soon as it was gone, a new gag replaced it before she could even think of closing her mouth. Instead of a ball, bit, or even a ring, she felt a soft rubber tab in her mouth that would easily bend when she flicked her tongue over it in curiosity, and she felt plastic softly pressing against her lips. Instead of leather straps, she felt what she was sure was satin wrapping around her head, just under the helmet, to keep the strange gag in place. As it tightened, she heard the sound of satin gliding through metal rings.

Next, she felt a cool cream that soon began to tingle being spread over her pussy. It only took her a few seconds to realize that once the cream was wiped away, her pussy would be permanently bald. This realization made her heart race again as she wondered if she would be a serving girl after all.

After the cream was wiped off, she felt something that felt like a fine, soft dusk being gently patted onto her now bare pussy. Not being able to see, hear, or even smell anything while the helmet was on was causing her mind to race as she tried to think of what fate awaited her, but she couldn’t think of anything.

The next thing she felt was something soft and cushiony being placed between her legs and wrapped around her waist. She could feel that it covered every inch of her ass. “A chastity belt of some sort?” She wondered. “But why make my pussy bald?” It was then that she felt a soft cloth being wrapped around her body. She felt it close around her neck and her upper arms. She couldn’t feel the bottom of it due to the strange chastity belt, but she was sure that she had been dressed in an extremely short dress. Her confusion grew when she felt what she thought were soft satin slippers being placed on her feet instead of stilettos and fingerless mittens on her hands once they had been briefly freed from the leather cuffs. While she wore the mittens, even if she had use of her arms, her hands were useless to her.

“I think we’re ready to let her see herself,” Thorsten said as he moved his hand down her back. She felt his touch through the thin silk dress, making her flinch. “Remove the helmet,” he ordered, looking at one of the two serving girls.

The serving girl curtsied gracefully before she began to work the buckles on the helmet. When she took it off, the men laughed at Kaycee’s look of horrified shock at her own reflection. She had been right about the mittens and mostly right about the dress. The mittens were pink, the dress was indeed short and white, but covered in depictions of teddy bears. What covered her feet weren’t slippers, but pink booties that matched the mittens. It wasn’t a chastity belt that was visible under the hem of the short dress, but a pink frilly diaper, and the soft flexible rubber tab she felt with her tongue was the soft rubber nipple of a pacifier gag. Once the initial shock wore off, Kaycee began to sob, unable to take her eyes away from her reflection.