My First Slave Experience Part 7

I opened the door. Standing there was an attractive woman of color in a tight red dress. She smiled at me and said, "Hello. I am your sister slave."

At first, I didn't move or say anything because I was surprised. Then, when I realized what she had said, I took a few seconds to look her over.

She was very attractive, tall, curvy but not overweight. She had light brown skin with fine features and sparkling brown eyes. Her hair was black, with loose curls at shoulder length. She appeared older than me, but how much wasn't clear. Genetics had given her an ageless beauty and her apparently cheery disposition enhanced that.

She had a septum ring like mine although a thicker gauge. The dress showed her ample cleavage, so I surmised that she had D-cup boobs. Prominent nipples and nipple rings showed through. She was still smiling, and I found my voice.

"Please come in." She entered the room, and before I closed the door, her dress was off and she was kissing the soles of Sir's feet (he was face down on the bed).

Seeing her from the back, she had a nice-sized ass with a few scars that looked like they might have been made with a cane. I could tell that she did not have an anal plug in.

"Sir, your slave is here. How may I please you?" she said in a soft alto voice.

"Both of you continue with my massage until I'm ready to speak to you." he said.

Giving Sir a massage was the first of what would be many cooperative efforts with my sister slave. I took Sir's top half, and she took the bottom. We did our work in silence which gave me time to absorb what I had just learned.

I am an only child and always wished I had a sister, so I felt a bit of excitement at the prospect of having one. Of course, I had no expectation that I would be the only woman who would have the privilege of serving Sir; so any surprise I felt was because I had not expected to share Sir during this weekend. For that reason, I felt a pang of jealousy. But I immediately sensed that that feeling was something I must not allow to occupy space in my mind.

Of course, I was curious. Where did this woman live? How long had she belonged to Sir? How did they meet? I hoped that these questions would be answered in time, although they would not affect how I felt or what I did.

Sir was obviously enjoying his massage, and it was clear that my sister slave had experience giving Sir massages. She plunged her face between his legs so her nose was in his ass and her tongue could reach his balls. Sir moaned, so I knew he liked what she was doing. While she was doing this, she worked her hands under his thighs so her fingers were touching his cock.

I was still massaging Sir's back, shoulders and arms but my eyes were on my sister and her passion for what she was doing. She was like a starving pig at a trough full of food. Then Sir arched his ass in prelude to an orgasm. Her hands, previously flat from his body resting on them, now grabbed his cock, squeezed and pulled and he came hard, soiling the sheets with his cum.

I was shocked. I had never seen such expertise in making a man cum before. Her subsequent actions demonstrated even greater expertise. When Sir rolled over on his back, she put her mouth on the cum on the sheets and sucked it into her mouth, leaving nothing behind but a wet spot. Then she put her mouth on his deflating cock and sucked the remnants off that also.

I thought she was going to keep it all to herself, but then she pointed her mouth and then mine. She wanted to cum-swap! But where to put my head so I could catch it? Sensing my question, she pointed to Sir's belly. I went around to the other side of the bed and laid crossways so my head rested where she had pointed to and then opened my mouth wide.

She let the cum dribble slowly out of her mouth and into mine, looking into Sir's eyes the entire time. Where he lay, he could see us performing our "slut's dance" with his precious cum. When she had an empty mouth, she said "Switch." and we exchanged places and repeated the swap.

We did it a few more times, waiting for an order. When Sir had seen enough, he said, "Divide and swallow." My sister had a mouthful at a time and she dribbled only half out before swallowing and displaying her empty mouth. I followed suit, and we both kneeled on the floor next to the bed with open mouths.

Then Sir gave us a rare compliment. "That was really nice. Good girls."

Verbal praise from Sir was a rare thing and hearing it warmed my entire body. Sometimes it was still hard for me to grasp how two words spoken by a man could have such a positive emotional impact. Of course, Sir was not just any man. He was the man who owned my body, heart and mind.

Sir sat on the edge of the bed facing us. We had closed our mouths and lowered our eyes in respect but he changed that. "Both of you, look me in the eyes. I'm going to give you instructions now and they are very important. I want you to listen carefully and never forget what I tell you now."

Wow, this sounded serious. My attention and eyes were riveted on him.

"The person you are looking at right now is everything to you. I am your sole authority, and your purpose in life is to please and serve me. Nothing else matters. In this capacity, you are a single unit with a single purpose. You occupy two bodies but everything else is singular."

"You were born as biological women so you have some inherent undesirable traits. You must suppress these and never allow them to enter your mind, or take action based on them, because they will interfere with your purpose in life."

"Never allow yourself to feel jealousy or competitiveness. Don't compare yourself to the other slave or anyone else. Do not envy or covet. Don't evaluate each other in any manner at all. All that is important to you is that I have chosen you to be my property. Don't succumb to cattiness. And suppress the urge to talk endlessly without saying anything. Speak to each other with purpose and don't chitchat. And never engage in gossip."

"I want you to both maintain your bodies and health in optimum condition for service. No weight gain or loss without my permission. No cutting, styling or coloring of hair without my approval. You can consult with each other on makeup techniques. You are both trophy women and you need to look the part."

Trophy women! I liked the sound of that.

"Slaves have no moods, no days off, no PMS, no bitchiness, etc. I know that sometimes women have to vent when there is drama in their lives but you should keep it to a minimum and only vent to each other."

"You are to be pure human female with all of the undesirable traits strained from your DNA."

"All authority rests with me, but when leadership between the two of you is necessary to serve me to the best of your abilities, the black slave will have authority over the yellow slave. The black slave will only use that authority for my approved purposes."

"Of course you are to have no secrets whatsoever. You are to be completely transparent to me. No talking about me unless it is a discussion to improve your service or increase my pleasure. And you are to remind each other whenever one of you is violating a rule."

"Failure to obey these rules will result in the severest punishment. Do you both understand completely?"

"Yes Sir," we said in unison.

"I place no restrictions on what you do with each other when I'm absent, as long as it doesn't interfere with your duties and serving me," he continued. "I think if you practice lesbian sex on each other, you will be more proficient if I decide I want you to serve another woman."

"Thank you, Sir." we replied.

"Do you have any questions?" he asked. I had many but I didn't think any of them were allowed. So, I joined my sister in replying, "No, Sir."

"Good. I'm going out to get a haircut now. You two can get acquainted while I'm gone." Then he rummaged in the bag that my sister had brought with her and pulled out a set of handcuffs with a long chain. He put one cuff on each of our wrists and then walked out of the room.

We looked at each other for a few seconds and then my sister spoke. "I suggest we explore each other's bodies first. Sir will want us to be familiar with everything about each other."

I nodded and she faced me and started examining my boobs, squeezing them and pulling on the nipples. "Very firm." she said. "You don't really need to wear a bra, do you?"

"No, except to keep my nipples from showing." I answered. I took her cue and started exploring her boobs as well. They were definitely D-cup with dark brown areolas and nipples. I hefted and squeezed them. They were softer than mine, but there was some weight to them, and they had just the right amount of sag. There were a few tiny white spots that I discerned to be small puncture scars on either side of each nipple. It looked like skewers or nails had been the cause of them.

The nipple rings were of a medium gauge, and her nipples were significantly longer than mine.

"Those are nice," I said. Immediately, she got a look of concern on her face, put her finger to her lips and pointed to the camera with her other hand. "Not appropriate," she said.

Sir hadn't been out of the room 5 minutes and I had already misbehaved. I hoped that he wouldn't hear that on the video. I tried to recover.

"Your nipples seem very long. Were you born with them that way?" I asked.

"No. Sir likes long nipples so he has ordered me to use suction on them every day to try to permanently lengthen them. It seems to be working," she answered.

We put our fingers in each other's hair. We both had black hair, but mine was completely straight, where hers had nice soft curls. Then she turned around, and I ran my hands over her back. There I found some more white scars that might have been whip marks. Apparently, she had been put in the hands of a sadist also, although this one had been given permission to leave marks.

When I was done exploring her back, I turned around so she could explore mine. When she was done, she told me to lay on the bed with my legs spread. I did so, laying on my back, spreading my legs and pulling them back so my cunt and ass were easily examined.

She bent over so she could get a close look at my cunt. She played with my labia rings and asked, "Does Master use these to lock up your cunt?"

"Yes, and he uses a locking anal plug to lock up my other hole." I answered.

Next, she put her finger inside my cunt. "Tight," she said. She pushed her finger in as far as it would go, and a small moan escaped my throat. Hearing that, she turned her hand palm up and started fingering the topside of my cunt in a very odd way. Suddenly, a bolt of pleasure shot through my cunt and I jumped.

"Ah, you like that?" she said.

"What the hell was that?" I asked. She put her finger to her lips and said, "No swearing. I think I found your G-spot. It's like the back of your clit." She moved her hand around again, found it, and another bolt of pleasure shot through me. She put her mouth on my clit and started licking and sucking in the absolute most perfect way while still probing for the right spot in my cunt.

I could feel it coming. It was like a bomb going off slowly. When it finally exploded, my body convulsed as if I was having a seizure, and animal noises came out of my throat like a cat makes when it's being fucked. Everything darkened for an instant, and I was drowning in erotic pleasure.

My pussy squirted like Old Faithful and drenched my sister slave. She jerked back at the stream of pussy water and started laughing. "Holy crap!" she said.

"Holy crap is right!" I answered. "That was the orgasm of the century and my whole life!"

We were both laughing now, and both of us had smeared makeup. Hers from my juice and mine from sweating like a sailor. I was in love with this woman, not just because of what she was able to do with my body but because she really felt like a sister.

We went to the bathroom, cleaned up and reapplied our makeup. "Let's get back to our task," Sister said.

I resumed my position on the bed. "This time, I'm going to be careful what I touch." she laughed.

"Based on what I know of Sir's tastes, this is an attractive cunt to him. Your hole is tight and your labia are dainty. He has commented before on how he dislikes women with 'mud flaps'." she said.

"Now flip over and put your ass in the air so I can get a good look." she said.

She started by squeezing my ass cheeks and then she pulled them apart to look at my anus.

"It looks like DeShawn really worked you over." I nodded. She went to her bag and brought back a tube of something.

"This is Preparation H ointment." she said. "It will soothe the irritation and will help it heal faster. You should always have this with you in case your anus is damaged." Then she rubbed a little around my sphincter and pushed her finger inside a little with the ointment on it."

My body had learned fast. I immediately felt horny with her finger in my anus even though it was sore. She picked up on that. "Have you ever had an anal orgasm?" she asked.

"I'm not sure because sometimes I black out when I cum." I replied.

"Okay, trade places," she said. I got off the bed, and she lay on her back, spread her legs and raised her knees. She had the same slave brand that I had, in the same place. So, in that way, we were truly sisters.

I moved my gaze lower to look at her cunt. I was stunned to see that there WAS no cunt. Where her labia and clitoris should be, there was nothing but smooth skin with a hole in it. I must've gasped or maybe she just knew that I would be surprised.

"Not what you expected, eh?" she said. "I'll explain. I am Somali. My parents were born in Somalia and immigrated before I was born. In Somali culture, there is a rite of passage to womanhood that includes a procedure known as infibulation. It is deeply rooted in our social, cultural and religious traditions and is very widespread. Even though I was born in this country, there was no question that I would undergo it. And what you see is the result."

I was shocked. I was aware of the practice but had never met anyone who had undergone it. I wanted to ask about it, but knew that our conversation was to stay on topic. She could tell that I was processing the information and wondering about the appropriateness of this cultural procedure.

"For our culture, it's no different from a Jewish boy getting circumcised. The reasons and motivations are very similar."

I decided to explore her modified cunt and put my finger inside the hole in the smooth skin. It was moist and there was a vagina inside. But the opening was small and not very elastic.

"Was this hole part of the procedure?" I asked.

"No. The procedure is designed to preserve physical virginity, so the hole that is left is only big enough to let piss and menstrual blood leak out. Once I belonged to Sir, he had a surgeon create a hole big enough for his cock. But it's not large enough for someone like DeShawn. He is allowed to use my ass but not my cunt." she replied.

"Sir bought you?" I asked. The black slave glanced at the camera and thought for a few seconds before answering.

"Yes, Somali women are often purchased for marriage. We call it a dowry but it's really a purchase price. In the old country, Somali fathers have multiple wives so they can produce many marketable daughters."

The surprises were never-ending. "You are married to Sir?" Sister gave another pause as she thought about the defensibility of the conversation and then answered.

"My parents didn't really care if I got a civil marriage; they only cared that I was married by an Imam. Sir decided to have a civil marriage as well because there are financial advantages to it. But he had me sign a prenuptial agreement that prevents me from getting any money if I were to divorce him. But in both of our minds, I am property, not a wife. And if he decided to sell me, he could easily divorce me as well."

"How young were you when you started serving Sir?" I asked.

"We married when I was young, but my parents permitted me to visit Sir before that. Somali girls are brought up with a clear understanding of their place, so it was a natural thing for me to visit and provide domestic service to him."

"Your parents didn't see any impropriety in that?" I asked.

"No. Once a Somali girl has undergone the procedure, their virginity is considered safe. It's not uncommon for Somali girls to be hired out for domestic service," she answered.

I felt like I had asked enough questions on the topic, and I still had my finger in her pussy and was wondering how I could ever give her pleasure with my mouth. I decided to ask because I was sure it was an allowable topic.

"How can I give you pleasure there?"

"It's not easy. I still have my G-spot, and a vibrator inside me can often make me cum. But oral isn't very effective with me. I get more stimulation from my ass and tits. And of course, Sir's touch."

That reminded me to continue my examination, and I told her to flip over and present her ass. There were more scars on her ass cheeks and upper thighs, apparently from a caning. I wanted to ask about it, but felt that it would be considered irrelevant, so I didn't.

I pulled her cheeks apart to inspect her anus. An impulse overcame me, and I pushed my face down between her ample cheeks and started tonguing her anus. She moaned almost immediately which encouraged me to continue. She relaxed her anus, and I tried to push my tongue past it, but was unable to. But she seemed to enjoy my trying.

I wanted to do more to stimulate her while I was eating her ass, so I reached under and found her boobs. I squeezed them and increased my grip until I felt her body stiffen. Then I grabbed her extra-long nipples, pinched them and pulled them towards me. That caused her to press her ass harder against my face.

I could tell she was definitely warming up, and I was looking for something to push her over the edge. I thought, why not try to find her G-spot? It was an awkward angle for my hand and her cunt-opening was so tight but I managed to get my finger inside her and started to feel along the bony ledge. My fingers aren't long, so I felt like I might not be able to reach it. But I did.

She stiffened more when I found it and started moaning when I did my best to massage it. My hand was tiring, and I hated to give up on it. I decided to pull my head out of her ass and put my other finger in her anus instead and pushed in deep. That did it. She convulsed and made funny gurgling sounds as she orgasmed. It lasted pretty long before she relaxed and fell over on her side.

I lay down on the bed beside her and started playing with the hair that was on her face. She smiled when I did that, and we were silent for a moment. Then she spoke.

"We'd better get back to our task. Master told me how you came to be his property. Pretty sudden transformation, wasn't it?"

"Yes, but it was like being swept off your feet, but in a kinky way. It's barely been a month, and I feel like I've been a slave for a lifetime. It's wonderful."

"How is it living by yourself?" she asked. Now it was my turn to consider whether the conversation was appropriate. Sir had told us to "get acquainted," so I decided to answer, carefully.

"It's challenging. I crave Sir's presence, and the need to serve him is very strong. I construct different confinement devices and beg him to save his fluids for me, but it's like slow starvation."

"I understand," she said. She looked as if she might say something else, but then thought better of it.

The conversation lagged for a bit so we got up and started looking for ways we could be useful. We tidied up the room and inspected each other's appearance to see if we could be made more attractive. Once we had done everything we could think of in service, we both assumed the waiting position: kneeling, back straight, hands behind, head bowed. It is intentionally a stressful position to maintain for very long.

Fortunately, Sir arrived before I was trembling from muscle strain. He stepped towards us and we bowed in unison to remove his shoes and socks and greet him with food worship. He indulged himself in the pleasure we were providing for a few minutes before ordering us to sit on the bed.

He stripped off his clothes and stood before me, his cock dangling in my face. I looked up at him and begged, "Sir, may I?" He nodded and I started some passionate cock and balls worship.

"Black slave, report on what you learned while I was out." he ordered.

"Sir, the yellow slave appears to be younger than me and of Asian ancestry. She appears healthy and fit. Her build is petite and slim, and her body is unscarred except for your brand, which is healing nicely. Her anus was damaged by DeShawn and I have applied a healing ointment."

"Her clitoris is sensitive, and I discovered her G-spot which makes her orgasm quickly with extreme squirting. She craves your presence, as she should, and her separation from you is a hardship. I have every confidence that she will serve you well." she finished.

"That was a good report but I have a question. Is her hardship relevant?" he asked.

"No Sir. Forgive me for reporting something extraneous," she replied.

He apparently accepted that and went on. "What is your assessment of her ability to bear children?" Sister paused before answering, apparently taken aback but the question.

"Sir, there is nothing apparent that would indicate infertility or inability to carry a child to term." she answered.

Sir pushed my head back and moved to be in front of my sister. Without asking for permission, she greedily started to suck and lick. Her enthusiasm and skill would have been something I might envy if I were not prohibited from doing so.

He tilted my head up, so I was looking at him and said, "Now your report."

"Sir, the black slave is Somalian, tall, curvy and physically beautiful. I estimate her boobs to be D-cup and her nipples have been elongated and have rings in them. There are scars that indicate she may have had her boobs penetrated by skewers or nails at one time. There are also scars on her back and ass that may have been the result of a whipping or caning."

"Slave, what part of what you just said was inappropriate?" he asked. I felt a surge of panic. I tried to calm myself and think over what I had just said.

"Sir, it was inappropriate for me to comment on her physical beauty. Evaluations like that are your prerogative, not mine. Please forgive me," I said.

"You may continue with your report." Sir said, apparently not concerned about my transgression. I continued.

"Her vulva has been infibulated which is a common and ordinary part of her culture, and has been partially de-infibulated by Sir to allow for penetration. She is limited in her ability to orgasm from oral stimulation, but she can be stimulated on the tits, nipples, and anus, and I was able to make her orgasm that way. I believe that she is very skilled at the sexual arts based on how quickly and intensely she caused me to orgasm."

"She appears to be in excellent health and fitness, and all indications are that she has been trained for slavery from a young age."

I paused and Sir asked me the question I was dreading. "What is your assessment of her ability to bear children?"

I hesitated only a second before responding. "Sir, I think that her infibulation will make natural childbirth difficult unless more surgery is done to widen her opening. Otherwise, a caesarean section would be in order. The modification you made to her would allow your cock to deposit sperm as it would with any other woman."

Sir did not ask any more questions, and I thought it was probably because of my sister's expertise in cock worship. His eyes were closed now, and he was breathing hard. I had been told to look at him, but now I sneaked a glance to see what she was doing.

She had both hands on his ass cheeks and was pulling him towards her so firmly that I couldn't determine where her face ended and his belly began. His cock was completely down her throat and she was holding it there. I was amazed at her ability to hold her breath and decided it was something I needed to practice.

Her tongue was out below his cock and she was flicking it on his balls. It looked like she was trying to swallow also, and I thought maybe that was massaging his cock head.

Just when I thought she would pass out from lack of air, Sir came hard, grunting and pushing her head even harder against his body, thrusting forward at the same time. Cum that was trapped and had nowhere to go shot out of her nostrils like big threads of snot.

When he was starting to relax, she pulled back fast and gasped for air, the cum dribbling down on her mouth and chin. When she had caught her breath, she said, "Thank you, Sir, for my prize." I made a mental note to start thanking Sir for his fluids. Sister motioned to the cum on her face and I immediately got down on my knees and sucked and licked it off. Then I took Sir's cock in my mouth and licked and sucked it clean before displaying for Sir's approval.

Sir crashed onto the bed, and I stayed in place, mouth open, waiting for his approval. He took his time, and saliva was starting to mix with the cum in my mouth. I thought if I stayed there long enough, my mouth would fill up and dribble out.

Finally, he sat up. "You may swallow." Sir said. He unlocked the cuffs that had chained us together and said to me, "Now get dressed, go out to my van and bring in the box that's in the back." He handed me the keys, and I did as I was told.

I found his panel van in the parking lot and unlocked the back doors. I noticed that the back windows were blacked out, the interior of the back was carpeted, and there was a chain with a handcuff on it attached to both side walls. Apparently, this is how I would be transported from now on.

The box was open, so I peeked at the contents as I was carrying it back to the room. It contained a nice variety of BDSM toys and equipment: gags, hoods, harnesses, arm binders, handcuffs, and more. I brought the box into the room and set it on the floor. Sir was sitting up and ready to give us instructions.

"We are going to a pet party tonight. I want you to get cleaned up and made pretty and then put on excessive slut makeup, almost like a clown. You will find pig ears, noses and tails in the box. Put them on. Yellow slave, lock up your pussy." he said.

"There are markers in the box. I want you to write all kinds of lewd and disgusting things all over your bodies. Blackie, chink has to work on Monday so nothing on her face. Chink, you'll be wearing long pants and sleeves on Monday." he continued.

"When you are ready, come out for inspection. Dismissed."

We sprang to the bathroom and did our female preparations: showered, shaved, etc. Then we put on excessive makeup that made us look like drag queens and wrote the nastiest things we could on our bodies: Cunt, whore, slut, smegma, cum repository, pig, animal, urinal, etc.

Next came the pig's noses. We cleaned our snouts off with alcohol wipes and peeled the backing off the adhesive strips. The noses adhered well. The ears came next. They pinched my ears some when I slipped them on, but they looked like they would stay in place.

Finally, we lubed up the anal plugs that had pig tails attached to them and worked them into our asses. Mine was still sore, and I used Prep H ointment as the lubricant. Apparently only our mouth-holes would get any action at the party. My cunt was locked, my sister's was closed, and both of us had our asses plugged.

We checked ourselves in the mirrors again. We looked like two naked women about to humiliate ourselves in every way possible. We came out into the room for our inspection. Sir had been napping, and he got off the bed to look us over. He appeared to be satisfied, but said nothing. Instead, he got into the box and pulled out a small bag. Out of the bag came a very delicate chain, maybe one meter long, and two tiny padlocks.

He locked one end of the chain to my septum ring (which was still exposed beneath the pig nose) and did the same with my sister. Apparently, we would not be getting too far from each other tonight.

He pulled two lightweight button-down robes out of the box that looked like they might have come from a thrift store and then were run over by a truck. They were to be our coverups for the evening and they were as humiliating as the rest of our outfit. We put them on.

Sir clipped a leash to the chain between our noses and led us out of the room, down the hall and out into the parking lot, ignoring the stares we were getting.

He opened the back of the van and said, "Get in, crawl up to the center, kneel and cuff your closest wrist to the cuff attached to the wall."

We did as ordered. He reached in with a separate set of handcuffs and cuffed our free wrists to each other. Then he opened the side door and blindfolded us, and put earphones on us. I learned later that Sir didn't want us to have any information that was not required to serve him. So, we were not to know where we were going.

The drive wasn't long, but it gave me time to reflect on the past few days and what was happening to me right now. For a person whose dignity and self-control had been ripped away from them, I felt very contented, peaceful, and happy. I would do as ordered this evening, nothing more and nothing less. And I was happy with that.

When we arrived, Sir removed our blindfolds and earphones and got us out of the van. It was apparent that we were at some event center that had been rented for the party. Here we got our instructions for the evening.

"When we enter the building, you are to get down on all fours and perform as real pigs all evening. Pigs are pigs; they want to eat everything and anything. I want you to go after every cock, pussy and ass that you can and suck and lick until they push you away. You will not speak because pigs don't talk, but you will oink like a pig a lot. If you need to piss, you piss on the floor. If there is a trough of food or water on the floor, you eat out of it like a pig." Sir instructed.

"By the end of the night, I want to hear from attendees how well-trained you are, how degenerate and depraved, how slutty and whorish you are. I'm expecting you both to have bellies full of cum and piss and look disgusting when we leave. If I'm not satisfied with your performance, I'll whip your tits until they bleed. Am I clear?" he finished.

"Yes, Sir." we said in unison. And those were the last words we spoke until we were back in the van.

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Sir led us out of the building 2 hours later. The "old Nicole" would have described it as the worst night of her life, beyond any horror that she could have imagined. But the object Nicole was satisfied and pleased that she gave such a good performance for Sir.

I had left my humanity and dignity at the door. My sister and I had sucked cocks, eaten cum, drank piss, licked pussies, sucked on nipples, licked butts, kiss dirty feet, been spat on, kicked, slapped around, pushed away, called names, and made to eat the worst swill ever concocted out of a trough on the floor. We had oinked for everything that was offered to us; oinked to beg, oinked to express gratitude, oinked because we wanted something.

It was enough to eat and drink all of this stuff, but we were also wearing it. Swill, cum, spit, sweat, pussy juice, piss was all smeared on our faces so we were almost unrecognizable as humans. Our noses were sore because people would pull us away from each other, and the chain would tug on our sensitive septum. We looked and felt like shit.

But Sir was pleased. He, and his performing pig-slaves, had been the hit of the party, and we had overheard some of the conversations including offers to buy one or both of us. "Sir was pleased; nothing else mattered." That was my new mantra, my motto.

He helped us back into our positions in the van and cuffed us in place. He unlocked the padlocks on our nose rings so we were no longer chained together.

He had some plastic shopping bags and a roll of electrical tape. I saw him place one of the bags over my sister's head and tape it around her neck so it was airtight. Then he did the same to me. I felt panic because I knew that he was going to restrict our air supply. He poked a tiny hole in the bag right by my mouth. I tried to use my tongue to make it bigger, but was unsuccessful.

I was breathing hard, and the bag would expand and contract around my head. The heat and moisture of my own breath was increasing my panic. If I didn't slow my breathing, I would run out of air and faint. So I tried to calm down and take shallow breaths.

I survived the trip back to the hotel, as did my sister, although based on the sounds I heard, she was struggling with panic too. I thought Sir would take the bags off when we got there, but he did not. He made the hole bigger in my bag, released me from the cuffs and helped me out of the van, closely followed by my sister.

"Keep your hands at your sides. If anyone talks to you, tell them you lost a bet." Sir instructed.

We made it to the room without being stopped. Sir told us to remove the bags, and I tore mine off as quickly as I could. My face and hair were soaked with the moisture from my trapped breath. Sir took a picture of us both; I knew it would show up on my fetish site profile.

"Get cleaned up and ready for bed." Sir said. That night, Sir cuffed my left and my sister's right ankle together with a long chain and told us we could sleep in the bed with him, another sign that he was pleased with us. We found space on the bed where we could. Sir went to sleep with me licking his balls and my sister sucking gently on his nipples.

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The writing on my body had faded in the shower, but was still visible. My anus was still sore, and I was still bruised from DeShawn's treatment and the treatment at the party. And I was sad. It was time to drive home and be separated from the love of my life, the purpose of my life, the author of my life going forward: Sir.

I was ready to leave and was kneeling before Sir, waiting to be dismissed for the drive home. He snapped his fingers and pointed to my sister to kneel next to me. She was next to me in a few seconds.

"Yellow slave, at the end of this school year, you will resign and come to live with your sister and me. I want you to start looking for a teaching position near here. You will sell everything during the summer and move here as soon as you are ready. Your sister will help you."

I fell to the floor and started kissing Sir's feet with a passion I had never felt before. I was crying my eyes out and trying to blubber out my thanks between sobs and kisses. Sister also bowed down, sharing my joy by kissing Sir as well.

Sir indulged our ecstasy for longer than I expected before he pulled us up to a kneeling position by our hair. "You have your orders. Now clean up your face and get on the road." he said.

I did as ordered, but there was a spring in my step as I walked across the parking lot to my car. I was going to live with Sir! I could hardly believe it. I was almost giddy and paused a bit to calm down before driving away. How wonderful it would be to live with my sister, to be able to taste the sweetness of Sir's flesh every day, to smell his aroma, to drink his fluids and serve him in every way. I was truly, through and through, a happy woman.