Tags: BDSM, F/f, non-consensual

Laura didn’t fight when the trunk finally opened and two pairs of firm hands pulled her out. She had intended to. She wanted to. But after who ever knew how long she was stuck in there with barely any sleep she was too tired to do much beyond sit up, and then stand on smooth concrete. It was made somewhat difficult by the cuffs at her wrists and elbows that locked her arms behind her back, along with those fettering her ankles. The Latina woman felt a sudden breeze fall over her naked skin and shivered. She could hear the sound of thick heels on cement as at least two people took various steps right next to her.

“Now stretch yourself,” ordered a woman’s voice. Laura didn’t recognize it. Was it her—ugh—buyer? She couldn’t possibly see who it belonged to through the leather hood enveloping most of her head. There were two small holes for her nose, and an opening for her mouth. Not that she could talk through the whiffle ballgag lodged there.

A brief instinct to refuse was dismissed immediately before Laura did as instructed and stretched out, relief soothing out any stubborn pride that may have birthed that instinct. Another breeze washed over her as she relaxed back into a standing posture. They were outside. Laura even thought she could feel the sun. And there was no sound of traffic.

Laura couldn’t keep a dismayed groan from spilling out of her gagged mouth when she realized they were far away from any city. Nor could she stop the muffled yelp when the familiar sting of a crop whipped across her inner thigh.

“Be quiet, slut,” thundered the woman’s voice. “Our owner expects slaves to be seen and not heard. Do you understand?”

Face burning beneath the mask, Laura gave a grudging nod. The woman’s reply was another strike of the crop, eliciting another yelp.

“This one’s not very good at following instructions,” said the woman to whoever the third person was. Laura sucked in another breath, grunting involuntarily as she did, and was rewarded with yet another strike. “What part of ‘seen and not heard,’ do you not understand?” Amusement danced under the woman’s authoritarian tone. There was another strike on the outer thigh and another two on Laura’s breasts. “Be. Quiet.”

The bitch was enjoying this.

Laura didn't know how long it had been since they had grabbed her. Not long. A day. Three days at the most. Stripped of her clothes and dragged off to be tied and sold like a hog. A whirlwind of humilation and terror. Sheer pragmatism had kept Laura from fighting every inch of the way up until this point. But now it felt like the full weight of her abduction had been contained in that fucking slap. Now in spite of the hood’s darkness, Laura saw red. “fnch mnn,” she snarled.

The woman’s reply was a slap to Laura’s masked face. There was some skin contact, the woman’s hand meeting part of Laura’s chin. She thought she felt latex covering it, but she couldn’t be sure.

“Welcome home, slut,” said the woman. “Don’t worry. We’ll have you behaving properly soon enough. Get her inside.”

Laura tried to stumble away from the grasping hands that took her by the shoulders. No use. Before she knew it, she was being frog marched up cobblestone steps, the footsteps of her captors echoing in her head as they dragged her further into bondage slavery.