When the slaver came to, she ached all over. Slowly, as consciousness returned fully, she was able to distinguish the really terrible aches from the merely annoying and, as the shape of her present circumstances sank in, Sandra realized she was in deep, deep shit.

To start, the ache in her jaws was because of the large ballgag jammed between her teeth, the leather strap cutting tightly into the sides of her mouth. What space the rubber plug didn’t fill was packed with a wad of cloth which, she realized to her disgust, were her own, skimpy panties. Further down, her arms and legs were wrapped with rope, done inexpertly, but tightly and the sheer amount of rope and the enthusiasm with which she’d been lashed into the strict hogtie, more than made up for any lack of experience. 

More rope was wrapped around her breasts, circling the base of each tit, which made them turn reddish and highly sensitive, not helped by the fact she was lying on them at the moment. Finally, someone had tied a fiendishly tight crotch rope which, besides cutting deep into her, still rather hot and sensitive, pussy, had the dual purpose of holding whatever it was that had been jammed into the slaver’s ass, causing her no small amount of discomfort and embarrassment. After a moment, she realized it was her own strap on, forced in without any sort of lubrication, near its full length.  

As her eyes fluttered open, the first thing Sandra saw were the bare feet of a girl standing over her. Craning her neck, the captive slaver saw Holly, still naked, looking down at her with an expression of vindictive glee. And she was not alone. Four of the other captives were standing with her, surrounding their former tormentor in a loose ring. The sixth, Sandra spotted out of the corner of her eyes, was fitting the key into the lock of the last girl’s cage. After helping her out and untying her, the pair came over to join the others looking down at their prisoner. 

“So, what do we do with her?” One of them said, as Sandra squirmed and grunted frantically through the gag, a wild mix of threats and pleas, all reduced to the same dumb grunting by her gag. She fought rising panic as several of the girls suggested inventive ways of making her pay for what she and her buddies had done, and had been planning to do with their helpless victims. 

“We don’t have time for that.” Holly spoke up, to Sandra’ relief. “The others could be back any minute.” The coed gave a sly grin. “Stuff her in a cage and lock it. I don’t think they’ll be happy with her when they get back.” Sandra’s terrified moan at this told the rest of the girls that was the right call. As they lifted their squirming prisoner up and carried her to one of the open cages, Sandra begged and pleaded through her gag, but just as she’d ignored or laughed at the desperate pleas of all her previous victims, Sandra’s own went ignored. Once she was all the way in, the cage door was slammed shut and locked. Sandra saw the pack of naked escapees hurry up the stairs out of the basement, then she was left alone in the dungeon. 

For what seemed an eternity, but was likely only half an hour or so, Sandra struggled as hard as she could against the ropes binding her. Not that getting free would do much good, she’d still be locked in the cage, but the discomfort of her bondage was more than she could quietly bear. At any rate, she’d made virtually no progress in freeing herself when she heard footsteps overhead and realized the other slavers had come back from their guy’s night out.  Their cheer at what had doubtless been a pleasant evening vanished when the trio came down the stairs and saw all of the cages open and empty, save one which held a nude, bound and frantically struggling Sandra. 

“What the fuck!” Mark yelled, walking over to the cage. His eyes glanced to the couch, where Sandra’s clothes were still scattered about. “Ugh…lemme guess, you got bored and decided to have some fun and the bitch jumped you?” He guessed. When she whimpered affirmatively, head hung low in embarrassment, he sighed, muttering something along the lines of “Dumb bitch…” under his breath. 

Turning to the other two slavers, he barked, “Get out there and get the bitches back!” Frank and Larson nodded, rushing up the stairs. It was about even money, all things considered. Though the escaped slave girls had a half hour or more’s head start, the area around the slaver’s hideout was rough, broken county, easy to get lost in, even during the day, much less a dark night like this. The two slavers, by contrast, knew the area well and were experienced hunters besides. 

Mark turned back to Sandra, who was getting more agitated, as it dawned on her the other slaver was making no attempt to free her from her predicament. She grunted up at him, pleadingly. “Oh no…” He replied, wagging a finger at her. “You’ll stay there a bit longer. Consider it punishment for your mistake. You’d better hope they get those girls back, otherwise you might be spending a lot longer in that cage!” He walked over to the couch, frowning when he saw where Sandra’s ‘fun’ , followed by the consequences of her being tased into unconsciousness, had left half the couch unusable. Scooting down, he found a dry spot to sit. There, he waited, Sandra still squirming in her cage uncomfortably. 

About an hour later, the other two slavers returned and to Sandra’s immense relief, they were not alone. Frank was in the lead, tugging the free end of a long rope lead. Behind him, the rest of the rope was tied loosely around the necks of the seven escapees, roping them in a short coffle. The girls marched glumly back into the dungeon, heads bowed low, hands crossed behind their back and lashed at the wrists with cord. Larson brought up the rear, covering the coffle of captives with his gun. 

Mark rose from the couch and joined the other two slavers in getting their slaves cages up once more. To discourage any future thoughts of escape, the unfortunate captives were lashed in tight hogties, ballgagged once more and finally locked back in their cages. 

“You gals just think about what you did and what it got you.” Mark growled through the bars at the miserable girls. “In the morning, we’ll find some suitable punishment for you for this little escape attempt, so you can look forward to that. And after that, we’ll be taking you in to be sold.” As the girls sobbed bitterly, knowing they’d lost their only chance of escaping slaver, Mark and the other men turned and started towards the stairs. 

In her own cage, Sandra gave an insistent whine through her gag. She’d waited impatiently as the luckless escapees were tied up and recaged, anxious to finally be let out. Hadn’t she been punished enough for her mistake? Was Mark planning to leave her stuck like this all night long? 

Mark stopped and turned back, giving her the same grin he gave all of the slaver’s captives. “Oh Sandra…” He said, a mocking tone to his voice. “I didn’t forget about you. It’s just…the last few hours, I’ve been thinking. Seems like this whole mess got started cause you wanted to have some fun with the slaves. Well, me and the boys do too. It ain’t easy, having all these pretty girls around and not getting to have any fun with ‘em before they’re sold off, but we can’t, not if we want to deliver the slavers in good condition.” 

His smile grew wider. “But I was thinking…what if we had an extra slave, just for us?” 

Sandra felt as though someone had just poured ice water over her. He couldn’t really be talking about enslaving her, could he? She was part of the gang, not some random, hapless girl they’d grabbed!

“The dealer’s expecting us to deliver seven slaves tomorrow and…” He made a show of looking at the row of cages and their sobbing occupants. “We’ve currently got eight girls locked up!” 

Sandra grunted into her gag in terror, pleadingly, but it was useless. She’d made one mistake too many and now she’d pay for it with her freedom. To the other slavers, she was now just another captive girl, to be used and disposed of however they wished. 

“Of course, he may decide he’d prefer you to one of the other girls…he always says redheads are in demand. In that case, we’ll just sell you, keep whichever one he doesn’t want and make her our personal sex toy!” Mark grinned as Sandra, joined by the rest of the girls, moaned in horror. Ignoring their distress, Mark turned and climbed the stairs up out of the dungeon. At the top, the captives heard him shut and lock the dungeon door. A moment later, he turned out the basement lights, plunging the eight slave girls into darkness…