“Take that, slave!” Lord Albert Filvea cried, bringing the leather flogger in his right hand down. The young woman jumped as the leather straps slapped against the bare skin of her pert, round bottom. She didn’t get far; the slave was bent over a heavy, hardwood bench, the top of which was padded with leather.  Her wrists and ankles were locked in leather cuffs attached to the legs of the bench, keeping her from standing up. She was completely naked, save for her bonds and a metal collar locked around her neck.

“Aaahh!” She cried out. Her pained groans were muffled by the thick rubber plug stuffed in her mouth. Leather straps encircled the girl’s head, holding it in place. The captive bucked and squirmed as Albert brought the flogger down again and then again. By the time he was finished, her bottom was bright red from the punishment. Standing out against the red was a large, stylized ‘AF’ tattooed on her right cheek, Lord Filvea’s signet, marking her as one of his slaves.

“I hope that has taught you to be more diligent in your duties, slave.” Albert said, putting the flogger back in its place on the large rack of torture equipment that lined one wall of the dungeon. “The next time I set foot in the Library, I had better not see a single speck of dust on those shelves, or you’ll be spending a month in the dungeon!”

He stepped back, nodding. Two more of his slaves stepped forward and uncuffed the sobbing girl from the flogging bench. They carried her over to a small bed. One of them found a small bottle of balm for the areas where the lash had left welts. She whimpered as the other young woman poured it out and began applying the stinging gel.

“Julie!” Albert ordered as he started towards the stairs up. A short, dark haired slave ran forward. “Yes Master?” she said in a soft voice, keeping her head bowed low, hands crossed behind her back. Like the other slaves, she was also naked, save for her collar. “Draw a bath for me, I seem to have worked up quite a sweat punishing Alice here.” He grimaced, stretching his arm. A sharp pain shot through his shoulder. “Make it a warm bath. I seem to have pulled a muscle…” Back down in the dungeon, Allison moaned through her gag.

“Yes Master.” Julie replied. As she turned, one could see the same mark on her cute bottom as well. The young slave began walking up the stairs, not quite fast enough to suite Albert.

“A little speed, slave!” He shouted, “Perhaps you need some exercise running? Maybe some time on the treadmill with clamps on those lovely nipples of yours?” That got Julie moving quicker, though  only until she made it to the top of the stairs and out of sight, Albert suspected. With a sigh, he climbed the stairs, far slower then the slave girl had, and walked through the hallways of his mansion.

As Albert entered the Red Lounge, he surprised two more of his slaves. The unlucky girls had been taking a break from their cleaning duties when he suddenly came through the door. Immediately, they went to work, dusting, but not fast enough to escape notice. “Since you seem to have enough free time to goof off, maybe I should make your chores a little harder?” Albert said, frowning. “For the next week, you’ll work with your hands strapped behind your backs!” The two groaned in despair, cleaning the Mansion was a difficult enough task as it is, but working with tools attached to heavy panel gags was harder still. They knew better then to argue or plead for mercy, though. They knew how Lord Filvea had punished the last slave that had made the mistake of talking back to him.

In a bad mood, Albert went to the master bathroom, where Julie was waiting with his bath drawn. “I said a warm bath!” Albert snarled angrily, as Julie began scrubbing him. “This is barely lukewarm! After the bath is over, report to the dungeon. I’ll punish you after supper.”

Supper only made things worse. Albert’s soup was cold and his steak was overcooked. During the meal, one of the slaves accidentally spilled a couple drips of red wine on the tablecloth. Another dropped and broke a plate while clearing the table away. He ordered the three of them to the dungeon.

“I hope you slaves are happy!” Albert said, walking down into the dungeon. The four slaves had been chained, in a row, with their arms over their heads. The four looked at him, eyes pleading for mercy, since they couldn’t speak, having been fitted with thick panel gags. “My plans for this evening are now ruined, since I now have to spend it punishing the four of you.” They watched in frightened anticipation as Albert walked along the shelf of torture implements. They whimpered when he selected a particularly frightening one, then sighed in relief when, after swinging this one or that a few times, placing it back on the shelf. Finally, he settled on a nice, supple cane.

“I can see I’m in need of some new staff.” Albert said, walking behind the first girl, swishing the cane to get a feel for it. The girl tensed, waiting for the sting of the cane on her helpless, exposed bottom. He winced as his shoulder tensed up again. “Tomorrow, I shall take trip into town, to the slave dealers.” He declared. “Maybe if I’m lucky, they’ll have some competent slaves for sale. I’ll buy them and sell the lot of you somewhere unpleasant…” He nodded. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do! Now, for your punishment!” the four whimpered in fright…

***

Late the next morning, Lord Filvea took his roadster into town. It was Wednesday morning, so there wasn’t much traffic on the streets in the fashionable part of town. Filvea saw a few young ladies out promenading with their slaves, and at the park, a number of young gentlemen were racing their pony cart teams, but most were currently at business. The first thing Albert did, upon arriving in town was swing by his bank. He withdrew a few hundred pounds, stuffing the banknotes into a leather briefcase. He intended to take home at least one or two new slaves in the trunk of his auto by the end of the day!

The slave markets were located near the edge of the wealthy neighborhoods, to provide easy access for the upper class customers who patronized the slave dealers. In the past, Albert had gone to ‘Whipster & Sons Fine Slaves Emporium’ for his chattel. “Better not.” Albert thought, walking past their shopfront and the rows of hopeful girls chained up on the other side of the glass, hoping to attract the eye of a wealthy buyer to take them home. “I’ll just end up with more of the same ill lot. Better try a new place. Ah, this one looks promising!” He stopped in front of an imposing building. The marqui over the door read: “Imperial Slave Imports-Best Quality Girls From Every Corner of the Empire”

“Hello, my Lord.” A man standing at a counter called out as Filvea stepped inside. “What can I do for you today?”

“Yes, I am Lord Filvea. I’ve been having some trouble with my slaves and was looking for some new staff. I wish to look over your stock.”

“Certainly.” The man turned and called over his shoulder into the next room. “Harris! Take Lord Filthy here to showroom 3 and show him some of the girls!”

“Filvea!” Albert said, indignantly. “My name is Lord Filvea.”

“Of course, Lord Filvea.” The man replied.

At that moment, a second man stepped into the room. He was dressed in workman’s clothes, with a black wool mask on. “Are you Lord Filthy?” he asked.

“Filvea!”

“Right this way, Lord Filthy.” The man turned, waving for Albert to follow him. They walked down an ornately decorated hallway, lined with doors. The slaver stopped at one with a small brass ‘3’ on it. “In here.” The room on the other side was small room, decorated in the same style. There were several brass stands of varying designs, in the center of the room. Some were fitted with metal shackles for securing slaves. Others ended in large phalluses made of rubber. “For demonstrations, my lord.” The man explained.

“If you’ll make yourself comfortable,” he waved to a pair of comfortable looking chairs. “I’ll go and bring in the first item we have.” He walked across the room to a second door. As he opened it, Albert got a glimpse of the back area of the shop, a dimly lit room of bare concrete with several cells with iron bars. Waiting inside were dozens of young, naked slave girls.

After a moment, the man returned, tugging on a leash. Following along at the end was a tall, thin blonde woman. She walked forward, head bowed low. Her hands were cuffed behind her. “As you can see, my lord, this one has had some training,” the man explained. He tugged on the leash and the woman obediently sank to her knees. “This is Katherine. She’s from an orphanage. No one adopted her, so when she came of age, they put her up on the market and we purchased her along with the other girls for sale. Show Lord Filthy here your skills, slave.” He ordered.

“Perhap.” Albert said, eyeing the lovely lady with an appreciative eye. “But I think I’d like to look at a few more girls before I decide to buy or not.”

“Course, my lord. Of Course. Come slave!” The man said, tugging on the leash. She rose to her feet. “Back to your cell now.” As she shuffled out of the room, Albert watched her pert bottom sway out and wondered how his mark would look on those cheeks…

“Here’s another girl…” The slaver said, leading in another girl on a leash. “Irish lass, accepted an ad for a work position in London.” He smiled. “She didn’t quite realize what the work would be and forgot to ask about the pay!”

“How positively droll!” Albert said with a laugh as the glum looking dark haired lass was put through her paces.                        

Albert inspected another dozen or so girls. There were a few more that caught his eye; a slightly plump French chef who had been sold by her previous owner for snacking, a few dark skinned beauties imported from the colonies piqued his interest and there was a lively redhead who, when put to the rubber phallus took nearly the whole length in her mouth. Albert was tempted to buy her then and there, but he stuck with his plan to see all the girls before deciding.

“Well, my lord. We have one more girl, though we haven’t had time to train her up yet. We added her to the dungeon just this morning.” The man said, awkwardly. “I’m not sure she’s what you’re looking for…”

“Well, let me have a look at her, then, and I’ll be the judge of that, my good man.” Albert told him.

“Very good, my lord.” The man stepped back into the cells and returned a minute later. Unlike the other slaves, when he returned, he was pulling hard on the leash in his hand. The slave at the other end was actively fighting him.

“No, definitely not.” Albert thought, but he smiled, watching the slaver struggle to bring in the final girl, a young lady with long, dark hair from London. Unlike the other slaves, she still had some clothes on; a pair of stockings and heels. She glared at the slaver as he forced her to her knees. He pointed to the stand with the phallus.

She shook her head, defiantly. Even when the slaver grabbed her head by her hair and pulled her towards it, the young woman stubbornly refused to take it in her mouth, closing her lips and turning her head away, ignoring the slavers angry curses. “Open your mouth, you stubborn…”

“oh my…” Albert said, with a chuckle. “How funny…”

The slaver sighed. “ I beg your pardon, Lord Filthy…this one used to be a dominatrix. She did work for us, training the slaves we sold, but a few days ago, she got careless with some new slaves. They got free, jumped her and left her tied up while they escaped. She couldn’t pay us back for the price of the slaves she lost, so we’re going to sell her instead…assuming we can get her to obey!”

“Hmmmm…a dominatrix, you say?” Albert said, tugging at his mustache. “That gives me an idea…”

***

“Dinner is served, master.” The cook said, placing a covered dish before Albert. The young woman tensed, nervously, as Albert cut a bite of the juicy steak and tasted it. Albert nodded, chewing. “Good.” She sighed in relief.

“Wine!” Albert called, holding his glass up. The girl with the wine bottle immediately jumped forward, to refill his glass. Pouring carefully, she didn’t spill a drop.

Albert sighed, contentedly. That new slave he’d purchased had done wonders for the staff. She had certainly injected a little discipline into the girls. Now, they attended to their duties with redoubled effort. Sure most of them couldn’t sit down, but then they weren’t supposed to be sitting down anyway, not while they should be working. Even the mere mention of time in the dungeon from Albert was enough to make the girls turn pale and do whatever they could to please him. Not to mention the time he was saving, having to punish his slaves himself could be spent in more profitable pursuits.

“Julie! Prepare my bath! I’d like a good long soak while I digest this fine meal.” Albert called out.

“Yes master!” The girl said, scampering out of the room, as quickly as she could. Needless to say, the bath would still be steaming hot, no matter how long Albert dawdled over his supper.

Albert cut off another piece of the steak. As he chewed, he could faintly hear the noises coming from the dungeon; the sharp snap of the lash and the muffled cry of a girl who would never again put Albert’s red long johns in the wash with his good white shirts. He nodded. Everything was running smoothly again…