Total Surrender Part III

I’d made all the preparations. My parents thought I’d be studying anthropology in Nepal and would be unreachable for 70 days. Apparently The Hampton and other houses assisted their submissives with this via fake documents and letters home.

This time a large bus arrived for me at my dorm. It was filled with dozens of other young pretty girls for our orientation at The Hampton. We were all giggling with excitement like the first day of cheer camp and quickly making friends.

“Hi, I’m Stephanie.” I said to the redheaded beauty sitting next to me.

“Sarah.” she answered, shaking my hand. “Your first time?”

“Yeah. Does it show?” I giggled.

“Yeah.” she answered. “Mine too. Scared?”

“I’m not scared. I’m terrified.” I giggled.

“I wish I had your boobs.” she complemented.

I looked down at my sizeable bust always looking like twins trying to break free of my modest school girl blouse. “Oh thanks. Yours are nice too.”

“Not to be a witch or anything but…” spoke out a petite girl with flaxen gold hair, whose name I later found out was Hayden. “Don’t get too used to making friends with the other slaves.”

“Why not, miss know it all?” asked Sarah.

“Trust me! This is my third year. I’ve been coming here since high school. All puns intended.” said Hayden.

It was easy to spot the new comers (again all puns intended) because we all huddled around Hayden desperate to know what to expect.

“Do tell.” I asked.

Hayden warned us that speaking, friendly conversation, and normal friendships were almost impossible at The Hampton. Slaves don’t need to speak, just do. Our attention was to be on our masters at all times.

“So how’s the sex?” someone asked.

Hayden assured us that the masters were very experienced and very skilling. It was worth surrendering your entire right to be human just to be ravaged by the masters.

If Hayden was such a good slave, why was this her third year at a house for beginners? Why hadn’t she worked her way up to a bigger slave house? I didn’t ask it out loud because I already knew the answer. She liked being the most experienced and skilled slave at The Hampton. She was superior to all of us and she knew it.

When we arrived we were first taken to a pool house like building. There must have been 40 of us girls all together. I presumed the male slaves must have been on their own bus.

A woman in her late 30s with long golden hair, wearing a black high heeled vinyl outfit and a short whip greeted us. “I am Mistress Elisha. I’m one of the head mistresses here at The Hampton. I know that most of you are beginners, but you will be held to the same standards as any other submissive. Only through trial and error will you be trained.

“Talking amongst slaves is strictly prohibited. And you will not speak to your owners unless directly spoken to. Is that clear?”

“Because it pleases you Mistress Elisha.” we all answered together.

We were ordered to disrobe and our clothing and jewelry was all placed into lockers. I was still nervous getting used to being naked at all times. To think that I wouldn’t wear a stitch of clothing for 70 whole days!

Next we were all led hand in hand to the outdoor bath.

No printed words can describe it. It put the gardens of Versailles to shame. The size of a swimming pool large enough for all 40 of us and had flowing fountains, and soaps and shampoos of all kinds. We couldn’t speak. But we could giggle and smile and we lathered up each others’ bodies and hair.

There were female slaves to dry us off. It was obvious they’d already been initiated. It wasn’t just the pretty lace collars around their necks. It was their behavior. They were all silent and their eyes looked straight ahead like a trained horse. There was no natural movement to their bodies. They didn’t slouch or scratch themselves like normal people do. Their hands were always at their sides or focused on their work.

I watched them carefully and mimicked their behavior.

Before entering the main house we were taken to an entry room where we were each given our sturdy lace collars, like a formal ladies choker, except that it had brass rings on the front and back so that a leash could be attached at any time.

We were never to take our collars off, even while bathing. I looked at mine like it was a medal of honor. Because it was.

Next we were separated into smaller groups of 5. Sarah and I stuck together. Other mistresses took control of the other groups, but Mistress Elisha stayed with mine.

After touring the gardens we were finally led into the main house. And what a house it was! The main hall had a totally quilted floor and there were plush pink sitting pillows everywhere. In all centered around an elevated stage. I could only imagine the orgies and sex shows that went on here, and couldn’t wait to experience them!

The whole house was filled with mirrors, and was decorated with white and pastels.

There were other private suites for owners and guests and a of course the slave quarters. I was shocked to see it was just one large bed. It wasn’t nearly large enough to hold all 40 of us newly arrived, or the other slaves. I presumed this was because most of the slaves would sleep in the same bed as their masters and mistresses.

Finally we saw our first male slave. He was a Nordic Olympian with finely sculpted muscles and an enormous organ pointing straight up in the air. Like a solider at attention he stood with his hands at his sides and paid no heed to the 5 pretty naked teenage girls whom just entered the room.

Sarah put her hand over her mouth to gasp at the size of his manhood. She smiled and gave him a big wink to which he also paid no heed.

Mistress Elisha was mortified and snapped her fingers. “Slaves? Take this child away this instant!” And with that two female slaves whisked Sarah away for punishment. Fortunately Sarah knew better than to make things worse by speaking out and pleading for mercy. The 4 of us dreaded to think what would be done to her.

Our tour of The Hampton also consisted of our assigned duties which were mostly household chores such as cleaning.

Our first erotic chore finally came when we were taken to a room where the male slaves were “milked.”

Mistress Elisha snapped her whip, “Clause?”

Another handsome male slave appeared. He too had the body of an Olympian and a large upright organ. “Because it pleases you Mistress Elisha?”

“Have you been milked in the last 2 hours?” she asked.

“Only if it pleases you Mistress Elisha.”

“Good. You.” she said aiming her gloved finger at me. “Attend to this boy.”

At first I froze. But then stepped forward.

Mistress Elisha pointed toward a stack of pillows and vases. “The pillows are for your knees and the jugs are to collect their male nectar. Males need to be milked every two hours. This keeps their organs content and under control.”

I dropped to my knees and looked up at the Nordic god before me. But he didn’t return my friendly look. He still stood at attention looking forward with his hands at his sides.

I worked the Washington Monument between his legs with my thumb and index finger gliding his foreskin back and forth at a steady consistent pace. Although his hands never left his sides, as much as he tried he could not control his breathing or heart rate. Or perhaps it was a signal to me that he was about to release. I did the best I could to capture as much of his male milk as possible. But some still didn’t make it into the jug.

“Don’t worry child. You’ll improve with practice.” said Mistress Elisha.

Although Clause had just climaxed, his manhood had not lost its strength. It was as long and strong as ever.

“You will return to your duties Clause.”

“Because it pleases you Mistress Elisha.”

He looked so funny walking away with his erect manhood pressed against his belly and his hands at his sides.

Next we were taken downstairs where slaves were punished. “I am showing this to you to erase any kinky mystery about how disobedient and willful slaves are punished.” said Mistress Elisha.

Each punishment room was a private cell sealed of sound.

The first one we saw was poor forlorn Sarah tied to a micro fleece bed with her ankles bound apart and her wrists bound at her sides. While it didn’t look uncomfortable it was agonizing loneliness.

“This young slave will go without affection for 2 whole days. She will not even know pleasure by her own hands. In fact there have been several willful beginners today.”

Mistress Elisha showed us how many of the cells were occupied with girls I’d just met that morning on the bus.

One poor slave pleaded for mercy. I recognized her from the bus. “Mistress Elisha? I beg your forgiveness. I live to serve.” the poor girl sobbed with her legs squirming.

“Just for that you’ll spend 3 days alone.” Mistress Elisha turned to us. “Only through this strict punishment will a submissive learn that their bodies and minds are not their own. They’re property. Don’t think me cruel. Now these slaves will never again be willful.”

All 4 of us silently understood her words.

Fortunately I didn’t see any male slaves being punished. It must have been far worse for them. To go 48 hours without ejaculating could drive a man into psychosis or even kill him.

…Stay tuned for part IV coming quickly.