With Special Guest Appearance by the slaver Alexa Meyer! 

Kinktober 2021 #16-20

Content Warnings: BDSM Fantasy, F/m, femdom, F/f, lesdom, M/f, bondage, non-consensual, maids, sex slavery, pet play, pony slaves, bunny girls, The Greenwood Family, Alexa Meyer. 

Psycho/Crying 

“Is this one crying?”

The last in a row of five slaves—a tall, pale girl with long curly black hair—was sniffling quietly in place. But that wasn’t the detail Alexa Meyer focused on. She barely paid the slave any attention at all. Instead, she focused on Samantha Greenwood’s growing smile.

It was far more genuine than the polite, but fake society-smiles Samantha had made so far. This was real, intense, and powerful. Sadism given face.

The forty-four-year-old black woman saw a marked contrast between Samantha and her parents. She’d sold to the Greenwoods for years and knew Lydia as a colleague before she was a customer. The matriarch of the family was strict and cruel, but not for its own sake. Charles was playful but liked to poke and prod more than anything else.

One look at the vicious smile on Samantha’s face as she examined the crying slave told Alexa all she needed to know. The slaver had no doubt the youngest Greenwood was the most sadistic.

“Good eye,” Alexa complimented as she prowled over to stand behind the bound, gagged, and blindfolded girl. Her hands found a firm grip on a pair of thin, shaking shoulders. “This item was acquired last week. Just eighteen years old—we checked—got on a bus and left home only to end up with me. Isn’t that right, slut?”

Her gripped tightened on the bitch’s shoulders, and the poor thing’s answering nod was broken up by a quiet sob before she composed herself.

Alexa heard Samantha’s breath hitch. The younger woman’s eyes came alight with the kind of expectant excitement that could only come from a spoiled rich girl who rarely the word “no.”

A glance over to Samantha’s mother told Alexa she was about to sell two slaves instead of one. Lydia came out to this remote cabin Alexa rented to make this in-person sale, to buy a birthday present for her husband. The look on her face made it obvious that she was resigning herself to buying two.

Alexa’s saleslady smile grew a little more real as she looked back to the little psycho that was helping her hit pay dirt. Samantha was busy pinching the shivering slave’s bare vulnerable breasts.

Escape/Alien 

“She turned herself in?”

It was a bright, sunny afternoon. Lydia Greenwood was enjoying it by the pool. She had spent the morning with her puppies, alternating between training and play before letting them back into the house so she could sunbathe in peace.

That had lasted sometime before the phone rang, with the Greenwood family’s private attorney on the other end.

“That’s right. She was originally from Venezuela. My understanding is that, as an illegal alien, she was hoping she would be deported back to her own country.”

Escapes did happen. It was rare, but the whole point of keeping slaves was that they were unwilling. Sometimes they would try to run. It was to be expected. But this particular runaway had actually succeeded at getting away. It rankled.

Lydia ran a tight ship. The Greenwood estate was primarily a playground for her husband and daughter, but Lydia enjoyed managing it as much as playing in it. Very few escape attempts had been made since she married Charles, and only two slaves ever made it off the property. One of Samantha’s early boys, who was recaptured within hours, and the Venezuelan woman Lydia was currently discussing.

She escaped two weeks ago.

“Did she say anything to the authorities?”

“She tried, but none of the local officers speaks Spanish and her own English isn’t up to the task of communicating the scope of what she was trying to say before the right people caught wind of what was going on and put a stop to the questioning. A van is on its way to pick her up. The locals have been informed it will be taking her to an airport. Its actual destination is of course up to you, Mrs. Greenwood.”

Lydia sat up and scowled. “As if you need to ask. I want her back here as soon as possible.”

“Understood.”

The conversation beyond that was short, hardly worth remembering before Lydia ended the call.

An escapee. Really! That this situation had gone on for weeks was an embarrassment the uppity slut would pay dearly for once she was back in her place.

Stealth/Armbinder 

Maids should be seen and not heard, was the refrain Marissa heard every day. Eleanor, the head maid, said it to new maids that didn’t get the picture and longer-lasting ones that still messed up every once in a while. She didn’t say it to Marissa very much anymore. It took some doing, but the curly-haired brunette was one of the better maids in the estate.

She wasn’t very happy about that. Who wanted to be the best bondage slave maid they could be? Marissa hated her slavery to the Greenwood family. The rubber maid uniform she had to wear and the bondage that went along with it, the endless busy work of keeping a huge mansion clean and tidy, and worst of all were the attentions of the family.

Master Charles had his personal bed slaves and his poor pony girls, but every so often still cast his attention to the sexy maids that wandered the halls of his home. Mistress Lydia was a strict disciplinarian, and the slightest hint her dissatisfaction could mean extensive ‘correction,’ to say nothing of when Marissa had to care for her puppy slaves. And Miss Samantha?

Marissa did her best to avoid Miss Samantha.

The key was silence. To be heard as little as possible. The insane sight of bondage maids was so routine to these people that they rarely paid them any mind. Making too much noise could draw their attention more easily.

Hardly the easiest task when you had to wear high heels that clicked on the floor all day. And on this particular night, for Marissa, it was made harder by the balance-destroying armbinder Eleanor had stuck her in as punishment for missing an entire room of dusting.

Marissa didn’t need her arms that night. Eleanor attached a tray to her chest, set a bowl of popcorn on it, and sent Marissa off to serve it to their owners. It was movie night, and that made Marissa’s stealth all the more important. All three of them were in the room and distracting them from their entertainment would no doubt mean a nightmare of punishment from the entire family.

The theater itself was the easy part, it was carpeted. But just outside the door were hardwood floors. Marissa had to step very, very carefully on her way into the room. Once inside, she had to be careful not to jingle her chains or hit her tray against anything. And she had to do it fast enough that no one was left waiting.

Charles was first, dressed in comfy robes and pajamas. He loved popcorn, took handfuls of it right away. The only potentially difficult part of serving him was stepping around the bunny girl he had kneeling beside him, but she shifted to get out of Marissa’s way when she saw her coming. Charles liked to have someone nearby to pet, and only took his hand off her blonde hair to get his popcorn.

Next was Lydia, who only took a small amount of popcorn herself.

Samantha was last. Marissa took a deep, yet silent breath as she crept closer to the young woman, who was glancing between the movie and her phone. Her heart bounded as she drew close and—

“None for me,” Samantha held up her hand, her tone dismissive. Marissa froze for half a second, and then stepped back. What good luck!

“I’ll take the bowl,” Charles spoke. Marissa stepped back over to him and found herself relieved of the main part of her burden when he grabbed the bowl off her tray. Knowing better than to return to Eleanor empty handed, Marissa stepped over to the wall and knelt. She waited for Charles to be done with the bowl.

And when the movie ended, and the Greenwoods spent some time talking about it before filing out. Their eyes each brushed over Marissa as they left, but none of them said anything. When they were gone, Marissa let out a massive sigh of relief. She had been seen and not heard.

The movie was pretty good, too.

Public/Humiliation

The worst days, the absolute worst fucking days in this hellhole, were when they had parties. Maya fucking hated it when they had parties, because the Greenwoods took the opportunity to show off to their shitbag pals.

They had their maids serving people drinks and appetizers. The members of their personal harems were tied up all over the place, sometimes in really tough ways, for the guests’ viewing pleasure. Those poor people who were forced to pretend they were dogs got to run around the place and get toyed with and shoved around by anyone who was bored.

It said something that Maya’s group, the poor people who were forced to pretend they were fucking ponies, probably had the easiest time at these parties. Sometimes they would be hitched up to a carriage and made to give people rides, which was tedious but pretty easy since most of the spoiled rich guests couldn’t aim those crops and whips for shit.

Other times they would be corralled out on the grounds and left for the guests to get a close look at. That sucked. That sucked hard. It wasn’t as public as the races and pony events, but it was humiliating all the same. Sometimes Charles, that chubby fuck, did it personally. He would take one of them in arm and introduce them to his guests.

He would tell them all about his prize racing pony, Desert. How he picked her out himself after seeing footage of her running track in Arizona, and how stubborn and haughty she still was.

“Just look at her,” he would say. “Back straight, eyes up. She’s still a proud one. Still spirited. It helps her run her races. She hates losing!” And then he would smack her ass and she would neigh and all the evil people surrounding Maya would laugh.

The other members of the family got in on it too. Lydia Greenwood would show off her puppies, make them run tricks and bark for their guests like they were at a dog show. Apparently, there were actually shows for the dog slaves just like the pony events. Maya hadn’t seen one, but she could imagine it well enough.

Samantha Greenwood would walk around, making people laugh and being the toast of the party. The little bitch was nasty in private, but in public she could put on a good face for the people who weren’t bound up around her. She would show off her own slaves, come up with party games (which mostly meant tormenting slaves and captives), and mingle all day and night if she could.

But the worst part, the thing that truly made these days the worst of the worst… was that Maya actually looked forward to them.

How could she not? Life around here was boring. Maya spent most of every day waiting for something to happen. The parties were different. Stuff happened at them. Maya could look at people in their fancy dresses and see what they did with their owns slaves they brought to show off.

It was the worst part. Maya did her best to keep her interest private, but she couldn’t stop herself from watching or sometimes straining her neck to see what was going on inside the main house, where ponies were never allowed. The other captive pony slaves must be seeing her do that. They knew what was going through Maya’s head. They saw her. They knew.

It was the ultimate humiliation.

Sink/Buried 

Vera woke up, buried herself under the covers, and went back to sleep.

She could do that. Vera could rest if she wanted. When Charles Greenwood wasn’t around, she and the other bed slaves pretty much had the run of the place. His rooms, that is. Nothing beyond that. Getting too far beyond the boundaries could get a girl in trouble. But as long as Vera stayed in place, did her exercises in the gym to keep in shape for Master, and behaved, she could sleep in if she wanted.

Sometimes she felt bad about it, because almost no other captive in this insane mansion could do the same. But what was she supposed to do? Make herself uncomfortable just so the maids and animals would feel a little better? No thanks!  Just because the bed slaves had it easier than everyone else didn’t mean Vera liked it here. Being a sex slave to a crazy rich man and his crazy family sucked no matter how you looked at it.

Vera spent the previous night at her owner’s side and fallen asleep in bed with him. Another bed slave, the brunette Mistress Lydia gave Master Charles as a birthday present, was there too. Her name was Dina. She was snoozing gently on the other side of the bed.

Eventually the two women would have to get up. They’d shower, do their exercise regimen, and get dressed, probably in bunny girl outfits. Master Charles was very fond of the look. He switched it up with sexy lingerie a few times a week, and sometimes he had his arm candy wear something else, but more often than not it was bunny girl outfits. Vera usually wore a deep purple that went great with her naturally bright blonde hair.

But that was all for later. For now, Vera could bury herself in covers, let herself sink into the mattress, and fall asleep…