Mrs. Robert's fingers danced lightly across the keyboard of her computer. The tightly gagged face of the older woman's captive stared back at her from the computer screen. It was a good picture, she thought. The expensive digital camera had captured perfectly the expression of horror and shame on the young woman's face. Tears were forming at the corners of her eyes. The white cloth band of her gag served to highlight the red flush of her cheeks nicely.

"Young (25) white woman for sale. Unmarked, no scars or tattoos. Pierced ears. Fully trained and healthy. Starting bid $5,000.00." She typed. Below the text, Mrs. Roberts had posted the rest of the other pictures she'd taken of her prisoner. The revealing pictures would give buyers a good idea of what they were bidding for.

With a grin, the old woman clicked a button at the bottom of the screen, starting the online auction. In forty-eight hours, Cynthia would have a new owner. She leaned back, already imagining what she would do with the money she'd get from Cynthia's sale.

The internet had been a huge boon for those in the white slave trade. In the old days, it had always been a pain showing off a newly kidnapped and trained slave to potential buyers. You couldn't exactly send out catalogues of the slaves through the post.

An auction like this, gathering together enough buyers in one place, would have been far beyond the resources of most small time slavers like Mrs. Roberts and her late husband, especially for one little slave. And you couldn't exactly drag a recently kidnapped girl across the country, showing her off, which meant you had to bring the customers to you…

It was always dangerous, inviting a potential customer to your home to look over a slave up for sale. Existing where they did on the wrong side of the law, the kind of people who bought and kept young women as sex slaves were a ruthless bunch who weren't above murdering the odd slaver and take a girl for free if his initial bid was too low.

Mrs. Roberts' husband had died that way, in a three way shootout between the owners of a pair of rival underground brothels over possession of a pair of blonde twins. Once or twice even, one of Mrs. Roberts customers had tried to add her to the girls she'd been selling! That was years ago, of course, when she was much younger. Just as well. Between facing a bullet or slavery, she'd take the bullet. Mrs. Roberts had sent plenty of young women into a lifetime of cruel slavery, she had no intention of suffering the same fate.

Mrs. Roberts' musings were interrupted as her eyes happened to glance to the computer's clock. "Oh my!" She thought to herself. It was later then she'd thought it was. She had to get ready for this evening…

Getting up from the computer, the old woman glanced out the window. A storm was brewing up. Billowing grey clouds filled the sky. The first drops began to patter against the glass window panes as the slaver hurried across the room.

Cynthia was still where Mrs. Roberts had left her two hours ago, not that the young woman had the ability to go anywhere. Cynthia knelt in the center of the living room. Her legs had been folded under her and bound with rope. Her arms had been tightly bound behind her back at the wrists and elbows.

More rope circled her chest, running above and below her small, round breasts. A rope ran from her bound wrists, between her legs and up her chest where it was tied off to her collar. The rope was taut and slick between her legs.

Cynthia had been gagged with a thick wooden rod, clenched between her teeth, held in place with a short length of rope, tied at either end around her head. The rod cut into the corners of her mouth painfully and strained her jaw uncomfortably. Drool covered the rod and flowed from the corners of her mouth, dripping onto her bare chest.

A thick cloth band had been used to blindfold the young woman. When Mrs. Roberts had tied her up, she'd plugged her captive's ears with foam plugs, cutting Cynthia off from the rest of the world. She would have nothing to distract her from the discomfort of her position, the tightness of the ropes around her, the insidious pressure of the rope against her crotch.

Cynthia's head hung low in despair as Mrs. Roberts silently approached her. She jerked up as the older woman placed a hand on her shoulder. "How are you feeling, my dear?" the slaver asked, removing the ear plugs. "I bet you're all stiff and sore." Cynthia could only groan miserably into her gag.

Mrs. Roberts grinned savagely. This was the part of the job she loved the most. The white slaver loved putting the poor girls she kidnapped into painful, inescapable bondage, driving home the helplessness of her situation, before selling them as slaves to the highest bidder.

Over the past week, Cynthia had proven to be a wonderful plaything. The young woman had a stubborn streak to her. Though she didn't resist the slaver, it was only out of knowledge that such resistance was doomed to failure.

Despite Mrs. Robert's training, deep down, Cynthia still didn't think of herself as a slave, merely a free woman who happened to be captured by a slaver. Thus, though she didn't struggle against her bondage, neither could the captive girl fully surrender herself and accept it. Which made her torment all the more enjoyable to the old woman.  

"Oh my! You look like you've enjoyed yourself!" She teased her captive as she untied the taut crotch rope. The area between Cynthia's legs had gotten quite moist over the last two hours. Face flushed red with shame, the young woman moaned as her legs were freed from her bondage. Mrs. Roberts removed the blindfold, revealing eyes puffy and red from crying.

Grabbing her nude captive's arms, Mrs. Roberts hauled Cynthia to her feet. The young woman was weak after being tied up for so long, forcing her to lean on her captor for support as blood flowed back into her feet. When the strength had returned to Cynthia's legs, Mrs. Roberts clipped a leash to her collar.

"Come on, slave!" she said, giving it a sharp tug. She marched the younger woman back to the basement dungeon, humming a jaunty tune. Mrs. Roberts was looking forward to this evening…

In the cellar, after replacing the leather dog collar with the heavier iron one, Mrs. Roberts ordered her captive to lie on the mattress, on her back. Cynthia grunted confusedly into her gag as she complied. Doubtless, the bound woman wanted to be untied. Her arms must have fallen asleep long ago.

"I'm sorry, my dear." The older woman said, placing a comforting hand on Cynthia. "But I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave you tied up a bit longer." The tone of her voice told her prisoner the slaver was anything but sorry. "In fact, I think I'm going to have to make sure your gag is a little more effective…"

With that, she untied the rope holding the wood rod in the captive slave's mouth. The young woman worked her jaw, trying to loosen it up after the strain of her gag. Meanwhile, Mrs. Roberts pulled a pair of handkerchiefs and a roll of tape from her pockets. Balling the cloth up in one hand, she stuffed the wadding into the captive girl's mouth. Before Cynthia could spit it out, her kidnapper had torn off a strip of tape and smoothed it over her lips, sealing them shut.

Mrs. Roberts added several more strips of tape, pressing them smoothly over the captive girl's mouth, until the lower half of her face was a mass of silver tape. Next, she took two short coils of rope and used them to lash the slave's ankles securely to the bedposts.

"Now my dear, I've got some things to take care of. You just lie there like a good girl." Mrs. Roberts patted Cynthia playfully before heading up the stairs. A short while later she was back. Metal chain clanked loudly as she knelt beside the ring set in the floor Cynthia's collar was chained to.

Bound as she was, Cynthia couldn't see what her kidnapper was doing. When Mrs. Roberts finished…whatever she was doing, the old woman quickly ran out of the basement. Squirming against her bonds, Cynthia managed to roll over on her side, doing her best to ignore the feel of the rope between her legs.

"Mmmppphhh!" Cynthia grunted in surprise. Attached to the ring by another chain was a second collar, matching the one currently locked around the young woman's neck!


Wiping her hands on her apron, Mrs. Roberts hurried to the front door as her bell rang again. The rain was coming down harder now, water ran across the windows beside the door, through the stream of rain, she could make out an indistinct figure beside the door. She paused at the door for a moment, putting a smile on her face, and opened it. "Why hello, Miss Brown! Please come in!"

"Good evening, ma'am." The younger woman said, stepping through the door. She stood over the doormat a second, letting the rain water drip off of her. She unbuttoned her coat and hung it on a coat rack beside the door. Beneath the raincoat, the short, slender girl was dressed in a white blouse and a knee length plaid skirt. Short, reddish-brown hair framed her plain, but cute face. Her large, bright brown eyes glanced at Mrs. Roberts through large round glasses.

"Thank you for taking the trouble to see me this evening." Miss Brown replied in a soft voice.

"Think nothing of it! I'm always glad to have people come and visit me. But before we begin," Mrs. Roberts said, suppressing the urge to grin. "Would you like a cup of tea?"    


"MMMPPPHHH!!!" Cynthia screamed into her gag, as loud as she could. The sound that escaped the tape, thought, was barely more than a soft whimper. Despite that, Cynthia kept screaming until she was hoarse. She could hear people moving around, above her head. If she was right, there was another woman up there, oblivious to the looming danger. She had to warn whoever it was, to keep her from falling into the same trap Cynthia had.

Abruptly, there was a loud "thump" on the wood floor above Cynthia, followed by more loud banks in what sounded like a scuffle. Cynthia cried out, daring to hope Mrs. Robert's intended victim had realized the danger and had overpowered the evil woman. Almost as abruptly, the noises stopped. Everything was still…

Cynthia stopped screaming, straining her ears against the awful silence, for any clues what had happened. A minute passed, then two, three minutes…After what felt like an eternity, the captive girl could hear someone moving around upstairs, no two some ones, moving slowly. The two approached the door to the cellar. The door opened…

Cynthia moaned in despair. Mrs. Roberts was coming down the stairs, grinning evilly. Trailing behind the white slaver at the end of a short leash was a young woman, maybe two or three years younger than Cynthia.

Like her, this new captive had been stripped completely naked and tightly roped up. A white band was clenched between the poor girl's teeth. Her eyes, wide with fear and shock darted around wildly as she took in the sight of Cynthia and the dungeon.

"Welcome to your new home, Miss Brown."  The slaver gleefully informed her newest captive as she picked up the second collar and locked it around the young woman's neck. "Or at least, your home until I can find a buyer for you. In the meantime, say hello to your new roommate."

She walked over to Cynthia and began untying the young slave. "Unfortunately for Miss Brown here, she didn't hear the racket you were making. I, on the other hand, did. You'll be properly punished for that tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll leave you two ladies to get to know each other…"

With that, she turned and left, turning out the lights as she climbed the stairs. As she reached the top, the old woman closed the door, leaving the two slaves in total darkness. Cynthia could hear the new captive weeping softly in the darkness, her sobs muffled somewhat by the gag.

Getting up from the bed, Cynthia placed a hand on the younger woman's shoulders. She grunted, confusedly, as Cynthia guides her over to the bed and helps her sit down on the side. "Here, let me untie you." She said softly. Feeling around in the dark, Cynthia found the knots holding the young woman tightly trussed up and began working at them

"ughh…" The new girl groaned as Cynthia untied the band of her gag and she spat out the sodden cloth stuffed in her mouth. She turned to Cynthia. "Thanks, I suppose…" She whispered, her voice trembling with rising panic. "It's true isn't it? What she said…"

"That she's a white slave trader?" Cynthia replied, mournfully. "And she's going to sell you? Yes, I'm afraid it's all true." She shrugged. "I'm Cynthia, by the way."

"Tabitha." The scared girl replied. "Oh, what are we going to do? I don't want to be sold as a slave!" She wailed. The young woman was struggling to hold her composure, on the verge of sobbing.

Cynthia sighed. "I wish I knew. I've been here now about a week, I guess. I haven't had a chance to try and escape. Mrs. Roberts is always careful not to give me a chance. I'm sorry." She sat next to Tabitha and placed a hand around her shoulders. The scared girl huddled close to her, fighting back tears.

Speaking in hushed voices, the women told each other their stories, how they'd wound up Mrs. Roberts helpless captives. Cynthia told Tabitha how her car broken down in front of Mrs. Roberts house during a heavy storm. She'd knocked on the older woman's door, hoping for shelter from the storm, only to find herself drugged and taken prisoner.

In return, she learned that Tabitha was an orphan, attending a local college on a scholarship, working towards a history degree. For one of her classes, she was writing a paper about some of the local history of the town. One of the old ladies she'd interviewed a couple days ago had introduced her to Mrs. Roberts.

This evening, the white slaver had lured Tabitha here, by offering to show her some old photo albums of the town. When she'd arrived, Mrs. Roberts had given her a cup of drugged tea. The tea hadn't knocked her out, fully, but she'd been too weak to resist as Mrs. Roberts took her captive and tied her up.

"My roommate was out of town this weekend." Tabitha said, thinking back over the events that had led to her current captivity. "No one will know I'm missing until classes Monday." She groaned. "Did I tell anyone where I was going? I must have!" Tears formed at the corners of the young woman's eyes.

Without a word, Cynthia leaned closer and hugged her fellow slave. Tears streaming down her face, she returned the gesture. In the darkness of the cellar, the two women huddled close together against the chill of their prison and the despair of their situation…


Mrs. Roberts whistled a jaunty tune as she cooked breakfast. Outside, the storm that had blown in the evening before was still going, a light drizzle tapping against the windows. The old woman remembered to cook two servings of gruel alongside her more substantial breakfast.

She smiled. This would be dear Miss Browns first day of training. The cruel slaver loved the first day with a newly kidnapped girl. Young women were so stubborn and willful these days, it was a great delight breaking them in, training them in obedience for their new lives.

Both of Mrs. Roberts captives were sitting up on the side of the bed, heads bowed, hands in their laps, as she entered the basement and turned on the lights. "Good morning, mistress." They both replied meekly as the slaver greeted them.

"Why, Cynthia!" She said, handing the two slaves their meals. "I see you've explained a few things to Miss Brown. Very good! You've saved her a good bit of trouble." Personally, Mrs. Roberts had been looking forward to dishing out that trouble on the new slave but she hid her disappointment.

The secret to training an obedient slave, Mrs. Roberts had learned over the years, was to punish disobedience harshly, and reward obedience by holding off on that punishment. Eventually, the girls figured out that submitting and obeying, while a poor choice for the slaves was still an intimately better one then disobeying.

"As a reward, I'll forgive your trying to warn her last night and not punish you today." She said. Cynthia meekly thanked her, taking her bowel of tasteless gruel. The young woman dug into her meal with gusto. She hadn't been fed last night and hadn't had any food since morning the previous day.

Tabitha, on the other hand, regarded the unappealing meal with barely concealed disgust. "Come now, my dear." Mrs. Roberts said, "Eat up. You've got a big day ahead of you. Both of you…"