“Rise and shine, bitches!” No sooner had the captives gotten to sleep after their night of ‘fun’ serving as the playthings to the three slavers, then Slim’s voice jerked them back to wakefulness. Any lingering sleepiness was banished as he went down the rows, sharply nudging the hogtied captives with the toe of a boot and slapping the sore tits of those suspended in the air.

Baldy joined him a minute later and helped Slim lower the three losers back to the ground. The extra bondage was removed, though their wrists remained tied and hobbles were reattached to their ankles. The three hogtied captives were likewise released and the six women soon marched back out to the shed to rejoin the rest of the slavers’ catch.

The night had proved nearly as hard for them as the six selected girls. The fall of evening had, at last, brought some relief from the oppressive heat, but as night came on it was soon replaced by cold. The crude metal shed, with its hard concrete floor, held no heat whatsoever. The captives huddled together as close as their chains allowed, enduring a long, cold night, waiting for the dawn to come.

Denise, Megan and the others were soon chained back in place. The slavers left, locking up, as was becoming routine. Half an hour later, they returned, with more food and water for the captives and then departed again. Glumly, the captives wondered what this second day of captivity held in store for them: another hot, miserable day chained up in the shed as the slavers hunted for fresh victims to join them in bondage, or was something else, and no doubt worse, planned?

It proved to be the latter. In the late morning, as the rising sun had at last banished the night’s chill and now threatened a repeat of the baking heat they’d suffered the day before, the captives heard the sound of a loud, powerful engine coming up the dirt road which connected the cabin to the wider world.

A few minutes later, the shed was unlocked for the last time and Slim and Baldy came in and, without a word, went to work. The captives were detached from the walls, starting with Denise and her friends. Each girl’s chain was swiftly fastened to the collar of another, joining the teens together in a line. While Baldy stayed watching the rest of the captives, the short coffle was led out of the shed and into the bright morning sun. Parked out in front of the cabin, beside the earlier SUV was a delivery truck. As the girls were marched around to the back, they saw the rear doors of the truck were swung open and a ramp lowered so they could shuffle up into the back.

There, Blondie was waiting to secure their slaves for the long journey. The inside of the truck had been specially fitted out for just such a purpose. The interior was lined with some sort of foam padding to soundproof it. Over this the walls had been fitted with adjustable cloth straps for securing people to them.

One at a time, the teens were unchained from each other and forced to stand with their backs to the wall. Blondie went to work, applying the straps and adjusting them so the tight bands crossed ankles, knees, waist, chest, mouth and forehead. The effect, when all were applied and tightened mercilessly, was to leave the victim totally immobilized, pressed deep into the foam padding. When all four were strapped in, squirming and whimpering through their gags, Slim went and collected the next bunch, already coffled by Baldy.

Eventually, all of their captives were loaded and strapped in. The inside of the truck echoed with their desperate grunts and moans. “Settle in, you’ve got a long drive ahead of you!” Baldy taunted, then the trio of slavers got out, folding up the ramp and closing the back of the truck. As the captives found themselves once more plunged into darkness, they could hear the sound of a large padlock being applied, trapping them inside for their journey into slavery.

Then, for half an hour, nothing happened. The helpless prisoners squirmed and waited, wondering what their captors were doing. Packing up the rest of their things, perhaps, or clearing out the cabin and shed, removing any evidence of the crimes that had occurred there. Finally, there came the muffled sounds of an engine starting up and their prison shook and bounced as the truck rolled slowly up the uneven dirt trail.

Soon enough, the ride smoothed out as the truck pulled onto a proper paved road. After a couple wild turns, they felt it start to speed up and realized they were on the highway now. This stage of the journey stretched on interminably. They had little idea where they were being taken and no way of knowing how far they’d gone and how far they had yet to go. The trailer, they discovered, had been fitted with a small, unobtrusive fan near the front, which provided fresh air but was wholly inadequate to cool it down, between the hot summer sun and nearly a score of bodies inside. Soon, it was nearly as sweltering inside as it had been in the shed.

They must have been driving a couple of hours when the truck stopped for a pause. The doors were unlocked and opened, just enough to let Blondie slip in. The captives closest by caught a brief glimpse of the side of the road, empty of traffic. Blondie went down the rows, checking on their living cargo and giving them some water, playfully groping their bodies as she went. When the last girl had been gagged, restrapped and her breasts playfully slapped, the slaver departed and, a minute later, the truck rolled forward once more.

More stops followed as the day wore on. Sometimes one or another of the slavers would come to check on them, bringing water and once some food, more of the same stuff they’d been given the day before, cold and served from a plastic tupperware container. It was always Blondie or Slim. Baldy, they gathered, had stayed behind, to sort through their victim’s luggage, picking out whatever the kidnappers could easily pawn and disposing of the rest and their vehicles.

Other times, they were left in the dark, usually about ten or fifteen minutes at a stop.  The prisoners guessed at those stops, the truck was being gassed up or the slavers were grabbing food, though the soundproofing meant they had no way to know for sure. It was galling, knowing other people, potential rescue, might be going about their day mere feet away, never guessing the plain, ordinary truck in front of them held a cargo of freshly abducted being being driven off into slavery.

The drive went all through the day and into the night. Eventually, the truck pulled off the highway and drove a minute over a gravel drive. When it stopped, the three slavers opened the doors and lowered the ramp. This set off a fresh way of agitation among the captives, rousing them from the stupor they’d sunken into during the endless drive. Had they come, at last, to their destination: this ‘market’ where they were going to be sold into slavery?

The captives waited anxiously as, a couple at a time, they were unstrapped from the truck, chain leads attached to their collars and were led out. As they did, each saw, in turn, that they had been wrong. The truck was parked behind a small country house, run down and boarded up. It was ringed on all sides by stands of trees, screening it from sight. Not their destination then, just a waystation on their journey to slavery.

The captives were led to the back door and through a spartanly furnished kitchen, down a set of stairs into the basement. It had been fitted out for holding kidnapped victims of the slavers. In the far corner of the basement, iron bars ran from concrete floor to ceiling, forming a cell, some twenty feet by fifteen. Inside, the cinderblock walls had rusty steel rings bolted into them for chaining up the captives by their collars. The basement’s thin windows were both barred and painted over, should anyone happen upon the house by chance.

When all nineteen prisoners were once more chained on the floor of their new prison, they were fed and watered for the evening. Then, as on the night before, it was time to pick the unlucky victims who would be forced to entertain their captors…

Blondie took the lead this time, pacing the basement cell like a hungry predator, ready to strike. The captives knelt, petrified with fear, holding their breaths. Those picked the previous evening had said little of the nightmare they’d experienced, but the others had guessed, from the livid red marks striping the breasts, bellies and thighs of Megan, Wendy and Catherine and the less violent, but no less horrifying marks on the faces and between the legs of Denise, Paige and Sarah, the violations the six women had suffered. Now, they wondered if tonight it would be their turn.

“You!” Blondie said, stabbing a finger down. The captive on the receiving end of it, Mark, went pale, begging through his gag as the older woman reached down and unfastened the teen’s chain from the wall. She stepped back, tugging on the chain, pulling her victim to his feet.

Meanwhile, Slim had started down the line. His eyes fell at last on Katy. “I’ll teach her a thing or two!” He said with a laugh. The tomboy grunted angrily into her gag, doing her best to look defiant, but there was an unmistakable tremble of fear as she was stood up and chained to Mark. From where she stood, holding their first two captives, Blondie pointed into the cell.

“Her.” She said, pointing at Gina. The curvy blonde woman gave a sob of horror as Slim went over and detached her lead, dragging her from her friends. Frantically, she tried to fight the pull of the chain, but at the first sign of resistance from his captive, the slaver fell upon the terrified woman and cowed her with a few quick blows. Numbly, she went to stand with the two unlucky teens.

After handing over Gina’s lead to Blondie, Slim turned back to the rest of the captives. He paused, looming over the Michaels, enjoying the way the quartet huddled together, looking up with pleading eyes. “Up you get mom!” He said, grabbing Helen’s chain. The rest of the family moaned in despair as she was dragged away from them.

Blondie, meanwhile, was eyeing the other kidnapped family. After a moment’s thought, she picked out the older daughter, Becky. The blonde girl’s eyes were hollow, knowing what awaited her as she was grabbed by Slim and added to the line.

Almost casually, Slim made the last pick. Stepping into the cell once more, he went to Shannon and grabbed her chain. The teen gave a wail as she was led out by him and joined Katy and the other four captives chosen for tonight’s ‘fun.’

When her chain had been affixed to Becky’s, Blondie gave Mark’s lead a sharp tug. The six figures attached to it were hardly eager to come along, knowing what would happen to them upstairs, but the ropes and chains gave them no choice. Heads bowed miserably, they shuffled up the basement stairs. Behind them, Slim paused long enough to close up and lock the cell door.

“Good night!” He told the remaining captives. As soon as he had climbed the stairs himself, the captives heard that door shut and lock. A moment later, the lights in the basement went out, plunging them into total darkness.

Upstairs, the six unlucky prisoners were brought to the house’s living room. It was rundown and empty, but for a tattered old couch on which the slavers had dumped a par of duffel bags. One was stuffed with ropes and other restraints, the other had a variety of bondage and sex toys in it. As she lined the captives up along one wall, Blondie explained the rules for the evening’s ‘fun.’

“Three of you are going to pleasure the other three.” She told the captives, quickly separating them into two groups: Helen, Shannon and Becky in one group, Mark Katy and Gina in the other. The former was led towards the couch by Slim, while Blondie ordered the latter trio to stand with their backs against the wall, legs spread as far as the rope hobbles allowed. Warning them not to move from the spot, Blondie went to the bag of toys and came back, something concealed in her hands.

“The goal will be to force you three to drop this…” Blondie said, holding the item up. It took the captives a second to realize what it was: a pair of silver clamps, connected by a chain. Hanging from the chain in the center was a large metal weight. The weight had another short chain descending from it, ending in a plastic tag.

The slaver went to Gina and, after removing her gag, slid the tag between the woman’s teeth with instructions to bite down on it. She did so, whimpering softly as the other woman reached down with her free hand, tweaking on of the captive’s nipples, getting it to stand up prominently for the clamps. A muffled grunt of pain escaped her clenched teeth as the first one closed down, the jagged metal teeth sinking painfully into her soft flesh. This was swiftly repeated with her other breast, attaching the clamps to both.

The three captives quickly saw the cruel logic behind the clamps. The chain connected to the tag in Gina’s mouth supported the weight attached to the second chain linking the clamps on her nipples. But as soon as something caused her to let go of it, the weight would drop, inflicting a painful yank on her sensitive mounds. Identical clamps were swiftly applied to Mark and Katy as well. They glanced at each other, dreading what was coming next.

While Blondie was doing this, Slim prepared the second trio. Their ballgags had, likewise, been removed, only to be replaced with new ones. Shannon and Becky were both fitted with leather panel gags, each of which had a thick rubber phallus projecting from the front to match the ones filling their mouths. Helen, meanwhile, had a thick ring gag wedged between her jaws. Red faced, the three were ordered to crawl over and kneel in front of the other group; Helen paired with Mark, Becky to Katy and Shannon in front of Gina.

“Scoring for this game is simple…” Blonde told the captives. “The first to make her partner drop their weights wins, as does the last one to drop theirs. They will be allowed to serve us drinks while the other four of you get fucked. In addition, the first to drop their weight and the last make their partner drop theirs are the losers and will get whipped as well as fucked tonight. Any questions?” She asked, smiling evilly at the alf dozen horrified faces looking back at her. “Then get going!”  She snapped, sharply.

She and Slim settled back on the couch to watch as Helen, Becky and Shannon crawled towards the three trembling figures of Mark, Katy and Gina. The later two squealed as the phallus gags were thrust into them. Helen, meanwhile, slid her ring gag around Mark’s flaccid manhood. It didn’t stay that way long. The young man trembled, quivering as the older woman’s tongue went to work on him.

After a few short minutes, he let loose a loud cry of pleasure, Helen echoing with a started squeal as he came in her mouth. Mark’s moans turned to yelps as the weights on his clamps dropped, snapping the chain taut and yanking hard on them. Helen leaned back, panting with relief at having saved herself from the worst, for tonight anyway.

Beside them, Katy and Gina were the subject of a grim race between Shannon and Becky. The two were busy thrusting their heads back and forth between their partners, knowing torture awaited the one who came up short. Unfortunately for Shannon, in this she was the unlucky one. With a loud cry, Katy let her mouth open a little too wide. She snapped it shut a second later, but it was already too late. The plastic tag had already slipped free. She cursed sharply as the weights tugged down hard on the clamps, sending spasms of pain lancing through her tits.

Not half a minute after her, Gina gave a gasp of pleasure, which soon turned to a grunt of pain as her weights dropped with painful consequences, but she’d held out long enough. Between the older woman’s legs, Shannon moaned in fright, realizing she’d ended up as the second loser. Katy and Becky were no less distraught. Though they’d escaped the whipping, they were still going to be used by their cruel captors.

Blondie and Slim had watched their twisted show with every sign of enjoyment. With the last pair finished, it was time to move on to the next event. The three kneeling captives were stood up and lined against the wall beside the other trio, who had their ballgags fastened back on.

First was the two ‘winners.’ Helen and Gina were taken out of line, Gina still smarting from the clamps, which swayed painfully with every step, not that the slavers seemed in any hurry to remove them. Both women had their hands untied and immediately locked in front of them with steel shackles. Each had a long chain locked around one ankle, the other end fixed to the sturdy, but battered old couch. The length was enough to give them the run of the room, but not to leave it. Slim directed their attention to the far corner of the room where a small cooler was set up, filled with ice and cans of beer from the last gas station they had stopped at and two wooden trays.

While they were being made to understand what punishments they could expect if they didn’t keep their masters supplied with refreshments for the evening, Blondie turned to the other four. Starting with Katy and Becky, Blondie untied their hands and swiftly bound them again in front of their bodies. Forcing the girls to sit down, the slaver tied their ankles, then wrapped cord around their legs, trapping calf to thigh. Lastly, wrists were tied to ankles, forcing the two captives into strict ballties.

By this time, Slim had finished with Gina and Helen and came to assist his partner in readying the losers for their punishment. The two teens, boy and girl, were trembling as they were ordered to kneel and swiftly bound into strict, kneeling hogties. Short cords were tied from the gag straps to the other knots, so the captives had to lean back, chests arched and exposed to their captors. They trembled, faint whimpers escaping the gags, partly from the strain of the bondage and partly from fright as they watched, helpless, as the slavers selected a pair of riding crops and advanced, Slim taking Shannon and Blondie Mark.

“Hope you enjoyed that…” Blondie teased the younger man, playfully rapping the tip of the crop on his manhood. “But slaves must learn to control themselves better.” She giggled as her plaything groaned miserably.

Slim, meanwhile, wasted little time in toying with his chosen victim. He strod up to Shannon and delivered a couple quick smacks of the crop to the girl’s breasts. She gasped, chest heaving as a muffled scream was stifled by the plug gag.

Beside her, Mark grunted sharply in pain as Blondie began to lay in with a will. She alternated, placing smacks of varying intensity to his chest, belly and thighs before unexpectedly dropping one very hard onto his crotch, making the boy jump, straining at the ropes but helpless. Then she would switch back, letting him recover while dread built up for the next painful blow…

After a quarter hour of this, the slavers paused their torture and shouted to their unwilling beer girls. Helen and Gina rushed forward with trays of cold beers, eager to avoid a punishment like what they’d just seen. Shannon and Mark lay on their sides, sobbing brokenly, their bodies liberally marked by the crops.

Slim smacked his lips with a sigh of pleasure, setting the half empty can back on its tray. He gave Helen’s tits a squeeze and sent her away, his gaze falling on Katy where she sat, waiting with trepidation. The brunette tried to muster her usual defiance, but seeing the lustful look in the older man’s eyes as he advanced her spirit left her. Frantically, the teen pulled at the cords binding her, but it was obvious they were as tight and inescapable as always. Her face ent pale as reality sank in: he was going to have his way with her and nothing she could do would stop that!

Reaching the teen, Slim seized her by the shoulder and roughly tipped her forward, so she ended up face down on the ground, her bottom thrust invitingly up in the air. Katy’s skin crawled as she felt the man’s hands run across it, his fingers teasing her slit. She squirmed and struggled, grunting indignantly, but things were no longer in her control as she heard the sound of a zipper being pulled down.

Blondie, meanwhile, had finished her beer, toying with Gina’s snatch the whole time. After dismissing the woman, the slaver turned her attention to Becky. “I’ve been waiting for this all day…” She told the girl, unbuckling her own belt. The teen cringed as the older woman advanced, pulling the bound captive towards her. Blondie bent over and unbuckled Becky’s gag, then straddled her captive. Hoping to get it all over with as soon as possible, Becky pressed her face into the other woman’s crotch and got to work…

The rest of the evening went much as it had the day before. When Slim and Blondie had finished with the two girls, they called for beers, amusing themself as they drank pawing at their servers naked bodies. Leaving Katy and Becky to sob, the slavers returned to their earlier playthings. Slim took Shannon, unbuckling her gag to make use of her mouth.

Meanwhile, Blondie retied Mark into the same balltie as the other teens, then went to their bag of toys. The young man went pale as he saw her don the same strap on she’d used the night before and advanced on him, a cruel gleam in her eye. He grunted frantically through his gag but was soon tipped over onto his belly, Blondie crouching down behind him…

Eventually, a long, long eventually for the six captives who endured their rough introduction to slavery as best they could, their captors grew weary enough to end their games. The captives were returned to their original bondage and brought back down to the basement cell to be chained up once more. When that was done, the slavers went back up stairs, locking the captives up for the night.

The second day of their journey to the slave market was a repeat of the first. Sometime in the late morning, the slavers came down and roused their prisoners. They were given water and fed a meager breakfast, then taken in small groups, chained together, to be strapped in the back of the slave truck. When all were in, it was closed up and locked. They waited, uncomfortably, another half hour or so while their captors packed their things and climbed aboard. Then the truck got rolling again.

They traveled all through the day, stopping only a brief times to gas up or water the slaves sweltering in the back. When evening came again, the slavers stopped at another out of the way farmhouse, another waystation on the road to slavery. This time, the captives were marched off the truck straight into a bard, rundown, smelling of old animals and manure, but sturdy enough and fitted with rings to chain them to.

After they had been given their evening meal, the two slavers once more picked their victims for the night. This time, seven captives were picked, all those remaining that hadn’t gotten a taste of what their new lives would be like from now on. The reluctant captives, chained in coffle, were dragged unwillingly from the barn.

Those left behind sat in grim silence, all too aware of what would be happening only a dozen yards away, to their friends and family. A few struggled, futilely, against their bonds, knowing with horrible certainty that this could be their last chance of escaping a future of the same torture and abuse they’d experienced all too briefly the previous days. But as before, their bonds remained secure. There was no hope of escape for any of them.

The next morning, the seven were returned, eyes hollow and red from weeping. Alan, Valerie and Fionna, in particular bore the marks of whips or crops, inflicted with eager cruelty by the slavers. They joined the rest for a quick, spartan breakfast, then all were loaded back onto the truck. This third and final leg of their journey was to be short, though. A little before noon, they arrived at the slave market where they were to be sold…