Chapter 1 - Rosemary meets the Master

This is a work of fiction. The setting is an alternate historical Great Britain.  Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination.  All characters depicted are 18 years old or older.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. 





Rosemary meets Master Malone

As the Malone Manor darkened for the night, Rosemary slept and dreamed.  She floated on clouds and drifted in pleasure.  Her familiar collar was gone and she had shoes on her feet.  She knew she had to be dreaming, she just had to be.  She had not been allowed shoes since entering the orphanage.  And she knew that collar was still on her.  It had to be.  
But in this dream, it was gone.  So was the heavy metal belt that had kept her locked away for years.  The heavy mittens were gone too.  She tried touching herself and found there was no where off limits.  She touched her pussy, tickling her clit and spreading open her moist slit.  It wasn’t enough though.  She needed cock, too.  Something to fill her mouth, something pushing it’s way into her pussy.
Her fingers probed, spreading herself open and plunging inside her.  She imagined a cock in her mouth, just like Tony’s or Brent’s.  Anything to suck on and fill her.  She even wanted Martin’s dick back inside her, hitting on that wonderful spot she did not know existed until recently.  She felt free and floated away on her cloud.
She reached her peak of pleasure and orgasmed, imagining the cock in her mouth spurting it’s hot sticky load down her throat.  She sucked hard, knowing it was Tony giving her his bitter morning seed now.  Her dream-self drifted on her cloud for a few moments longer.  When she landed, her feet were bare again and she was surrounded by strangers.  She felt like crying.
The Last Chance was suddenly around her, fingers probing and pinching at her all over again.  Part of her wanted to run but that was not the part in control of her dream now.  Instead, she pushed out her tits, eager to have them pinched and pulled.  She spread her legs open for every offer of a finger inside her, desperate to have her clit flicked by anyone.  Slaps and pinches on her ass moved her forward into the next eager sadist’s reach.  
Her hands were bound again, unable to protect herself.  Her feet were bare once more, stepping carefully to find a free spot on the ground.  Each moment of pain applied to her stirred up her passions, a new orgasm building.  She ached for the pain mixed with the pleasure.  She moved faster through the crowd, searching for her high again.
She had no voice here though.  Each stranger tried harder and harder to make her cry out.  Slaps and pinches became punches and bites.  Each move she made brought her more pain.  Each sound she tried to make brought her more reasons to run from the building sensations inside her.  She hated the pain but could not deny the reactions her body was having to it.  She needed the pain, she could not cum without it.  
Her feet became agony again, those horrid points digging into the bottoms of her feet.  She was bound and could not move.  She thrust her pussy out into the world only to have it ignored then teased, over and over.  Her denied orgasm causing her to hang from her throat on the pillory again, grinding her feet against the pressure points.  If only just one person inspecting her would finger her all the way to cumming, she would be theirs forever.
The alley behind The Last Chance dissolved into darkness and she found her hands bound above her head, a collar tight on her throat.  She was back on Martin’s bed, hooded and stuck.  She could hear the girls in his collection calling out “Tits!  Feet!  Ass!  Pussy!”  The more they screamed the more she realized it was all her own voice.  She desperately wanted someone to touch her, even if it was with a cane.  
Her wrists hurt suddenly and she woke, her arms above her head in the darkness.  She was confused and it was totally dark, with no indication of where she was.  ‘Was it all a dream?  I am still at the Lancaster’s!  I am back in my cell!’ she thought.  She moved her hands around in her hair, pulling a stick from it, thorns poking at her fingers.  ‘What is this?’ she wondered.  She did not remember Thomas placing the flower in her hair or her sale at The Last Chance.  She laid her head back down on the mat and drew in slow breaths.  Her nose told her first that this was not the Lancaster property.  
The mat she lay on did not stink of sweat and tears.  The flower scenting her hair could never have been on the Lancaster property.  Her collar was missing as well as the mittens she would have been shackled into.  The cursed short shirt she had to wear was missing.  And all the noises were different. ‘Where were the wet slaps and distant screams?’ she thought.
Reaching out with a hand, she encountered wood, not metal, surrounding her.  The space was small, the cotton mat she was laying on far cleaner than anything she had slept on for years.  Slowly, her mind started to catch up to recent events.  She had given up on life in that alley, begging to be bought by anyone who passed by.  She had convinced herself that once she closed her eyes for the last time that night, it would be the last time of her life.  She just knew she was going to be tossed over the prison wall to be torn apart by the prisoners inside.
She was still trying to remember how she arrived in this small space with its soft bedding and its woody smell when she heard voices.  She made automatic motions to press the short burlap shirt to her tits, but found she was just rubbing her nipples.  The hard nubs welcomed the pressure and made her moist almost instantly but it also brought her back to reality.  She was completely nude and unbound, for the first time in years.  
She sat in the darkness, touching herself lightly, enjoying the feeling of being able to pleasure herself.  She was getting slick toying with her pussy, remembering all the times she had been forced to orgasm by others.  The memory of being under the control of someone else made her pussy ache and her mouth water.  She had been trained to submit to that control and could not even masturbate without fantasizing about it.  
She had edged herself to another orgasm when she could hear a male voice speaking clearly.  She held her hands still, one finger on her clit and the other pinching a nipple.  She tried to freeze in place.  Her mind started to wonder if she would be punished or praised for being caught in such a position.  Her imagination went down both paths and she found them equally arousing.
“As I was just telling you, Becca.  I had Rick stash the Lord’s newest slave in here last night,” Thomas said.  “I knew this area is not in use right now.   I also know you take your evenings early.  I will not disturb you once you are off duty, just as I know you won’t disturb me when I am taking my leisure.”
“But hiding her up here in my domain Thomas?”  a low pitched female voice sounded.  “It’s a good thing you found me before I found them hidden away up here.  I would have whipped the entire staff!  And you say Lydia auditioned last night and we lost Tina to training?  What happened at that party Thomas?”
“I am not sure of all the details, Becca.  I was out acquiring little Rosemary while Martin’s birthday party raged on,” said Thomas as Rosemary heard him just outside.  The heavy lock was removed and suddenly the door to the boxed bed opened, the hinges on the door creaking only slightly.  Rosemary blinked at the sudden light, seeing the severe looking old man who bought her last night.  Behind him stood a maid and beside him was a short, but wide, woman.
“Well well!” exclaimed Thomas.  “I guess the orphanage had no idea what they were talking about, huh Rosemary?”  He reached forward, quickly placing his hands on her.  He pinched his fingers over hers, keeping her nipple trapped.  His other hand pressed on her clit, nearly forcing her over the edge she had been seeking again.
“Now, Thomas, I know you like to find out how far you can push them but the bedding is still mostly dry.  Lets keep it that way please,” the broad woman said, smelling the slave’s lust on the bedding.  Rosemary was ashamed at the comment, knowing the orgasm she had in her dream was all too obvious to them.  Thomas looked down at the blushing Rosemary, her eyes half closed and her mouth begging to be filled.  Her hips bucked against his hand just a bit and she started to shiver.  Thomas smiled at her orgasm.
“Please,” barely escaped her lips as Thomas moved closer.  
“Master will be very pleased with you, pretty thing,” he whispered to her.  He pulled her roughly out of the bed, making sure to stimulate her pussy.  Her shaking orgasm on the floor caused the maid to grab at her crotch for a moment.  She pulled her hand away quickly, hoping the moisture on her dress was not noticeable among all the stains.  Thomas and the other woman simply smiled at the small girl cumming hard.
“She is lovely Thomas!” Becca nearly screamed.  “If Master is not pleased with her, I will gladly find a place for her.”  Rosemary spread her legs open, furiously rubbing her clit.  The orgasm she had been edging toward was fully engulfing her body now, Thomas’s rough handling of her the final step she needed to cum.   Knowing she was being watched was fueling her orgasm, shame fighting exhibition.  Her mind melted and she felt the incredible pressure to pee.  
She started to leak but felt a shoe on her pussy and looked up at Thomas.  She shook, the need to pee fighting against the need to obey this man.  She held it back but only barely.  The look in the man’s eye said the consequence of continuing would be brutal.  She stared into the cruelty he promised and held herself still, his wet shoe grinding on her.  
He reached down and pulled her up by the same hand she had been pleasuring herself with.  He held it close to her face.  She took a deep breath through her nose and he pushed her moisture against her face.  Then he smiled and let go of her hand.  Turning on his heel, Thomas strode from the room.  The maid hurried after him. 
“Good show, my lovely, but you had better keep up with him,” Becca said to her and slapped her ass.  Thomas was about to turn a corner and be out of view. 
Rosemary ran, the air cold on her pussy, her bare feet slippery on the polished wooden floor.  She followed behind the maid, hoping she was doing correctly.  She was used to being led around by a leash and collar.  The maid looked back at her a few times, Thomas not at all.  Her eyes scanned Rosemary, each time a larger smile on the girl’s face.  ‘What is she smiling for?’ wondered Rosemary.
Thomas led them down the stairs from the second floor to the first floor of the Manor, kitchen sounds coming from the direction they were traveling.  Rosemary could only guess at the purpose of the rooms on the other side of the house but not here.  She was very familiar with these areas, having done many domestic chores at the orphanage.  Girls destined to be slaves were always taught how to be domestics, to help increase their sale prices.
They stopped at the laundry area just before the kitchen, four girls and a male already in the room washing mounds of fabrics.  Thomas stared at the maid and Rosemary felt there was some sort of conversation going on between them.  The girl looked up at him and slowly unbuttoned her simple dress.  It slid off her body and Rosemary got to have a good look at her.  Someone had been rough with her recently, small round bruises evident on her body.  And her ass a bright red from a recent spanking.  She tossed her dress into the laundry room where it was quickly moved into another pile by one of the slaves.
“Wait here.  I will tell Cook where you have been and why you did not report for duty on time.”  Thomas strode away down the hall, leaving the maid and Rosemary alone.  
Rosemary looked around, a bit scared.  She was not used to this kind of treatment.  She wore no collar.  She could make a run for it.  The maid, nude except for her own collar, did not seem likely to stop her if she tired.  She had seen the front door, right at the end of the stairway.  She took a step, just a single experiment, and the maid said a word that froze her in place.  “Hunters.”
The Hunters.  They prowled the area constantly, always on the lookout for a runaway.  There always were one or two a day.  Slaves who refused to bend to the will of a new owner.  Slaves who rebelled and fought.  Hunters lived for the challenge of running one to ground and turning them in.  Depending on who the owner is, the bounty paid for the return could be quite high.  And for those slaves who were not claimed, the hunter got a percentage of the sale price at auction.
Rosemary felt she was being tested.  She remembered how bad Lancaster Manor had been.  And the orphanage.  So far this place had been far nicer to her than any other.  She stilled her feet.  She would stay here and meet her new owner, Master Malone.  Thomas was returning, a smile upon his face.
“Come Lydia.  I have explained the situation to Cook.  Let’s introduce Rosemary to the kitchen staff before she meets the Master.  If you are lucky, she will be taking your place there soon.” he said.
The leap in her step bothered Rosemary.  The way she held herself higher at that statement, like she was something better than Rosemary, angered her.  She fumed behind Lydia as they got closer to the kitchen.  The smell of wood burning, of flour and spices, filled her nose.  For a moment, she remembered that there is also rot and slop in the kitchen.  But she had not eaten in over a day so the room smelled delicious.
“I asked each of you what had kept Lydia from returning to her duties this morning.  Tell her what you told me,” said Thomas.  “Cook, what did you say was keeping Lydia?”
“I said the Master was whipping her pussy and that she got 10 strikes,” said Cook, a smile on her face and in her voice.
“And you Lisa?  What did you say was keeping Lydia?” he asked a dirty blonde girl with large breasts.  Rosemary hated her for such large tits.
“I said Master was caning her tits, 15 strikes,” she said quietly, her eyes locked on Lydia.
“And you Heather?” said Thomas, his eyes boring into the last girl, her eyes downcast and her curly brown hair hiding her face.
“I said that he caned her feet and that she got 20 strikes,” she said, unable to look at Lydia.  
Lydia smiled at them, proud of the incorrect answers.  She had sucked the Master’s cock last night and had spent the morning with Thomas and his boy toy Toby.  She could still taste the jizz of the men on her tongue, could still remember how their cocks felt in her pussy, in her ass, in her mouth.  She was still riding high on her freshly fucked feeling.
“And what did I say was the consequence if you were wrong?  Cook?”
“You said that I could give her the punishment myself, Thomas.  For being late.”
Lydia snapped her head around to look at Cook.  She smile on her face burned into Lydia.  “And you two?” she heard Thomas ask while she stared at Cook.  Rosemary stared at the scene, not understanding what was going on just yet.
“You told us that we could give it or take it,” said Heather, still unable to look up.  
Lydia looked hot daggers at the girl.  Rosemary gasped, realizing now what just happened.  Thomas was moving closer to Lydia.  Hot tears were falling down her face now.  She knew it was pointless to fight what was about to happen.  When Thomas took her by the arm, she followed his pull to the side of the room where a familiar piece of furniture sat.  Rosemary recognized the exam table, the leg braces ready to hold legs wide apart.
Lydia climbed onto the table, her tears rolling freely down her face now.  “Now, now, Lydia, this is hardly the first time you have cried this morning.  And this will be over much faster than our session,” Thomas said to her.  Cook walked to the table, a cat-o-nine tails swinging casually in her hand.  “Be sure to count them out for Cook.  You know she has a hard time keeping track.”
Lydia nodded.  She knew she had to be clear in her count and to call each strike out.  Or Cook would start over.  She had called 10 strikes to the pussy.  Lydia knew she could take it.  She had spent the past night being reamed in all her holes by Thomas and Toby.  She could take some strikes to her pussy from Cook.
The first hit took her by surprise.  Cook had swung fast, a quick flip of her wrist.  It was not the hardest strike she could have delivered but it struck Lydia cleanly on her clit and inner thighs.  “ONE!” she screamed, her legs trying to close from the pain.  She did an admirable job keeping her hands away.  She would grab the edge of the table or sometimes her tits after a strike.  She only flinched once and that was for the last one.
Rosemary thought Lydia had lost count for a moment on her last hit but it was because Lydia was taking in a deep breath to scream “TEN” at the top of her lungs.  Her pussy and inner thighs were a mass of red welts and Rosemary found herself crying silent tears for the girl.  Thomas looked over at Lisa.  “Give or take?” he asked.  
Rosemary was confused for a moment.  ‘What does he mean, give or take?’ she wondered.  The large breasted woman quietly said “Give”, trying to avoid looking at Lydia.  The sobbing girl covered her tits, shaking her head back and forth. 
Thomas looked at Heather.  “Place your hands behind your head,” he instructed her as he approached her.  She looked at him in confusion for a moment.  Then he started to unbutton her dress.  The fear and sadness that ran across her face made Thomas smile just a bit.  “I never said Lydia had to be the one who took all the punishments.  There has to be consequences for being so wrong about the Master.  He is actually less severe than you imagine.”
Heather’s eyes started to tear up as she held her hands behind her head while Thomas stripped her.  It was just the simple dress keeping her from being nude but it was her only protection.  Once that was gone, Rosemary could see her large nipples and mid-size breasts.  She was almost jealous.  Thomas stood next to Lisa for a moment and whispered something in her ear.  She seemed to calm for a moment, her eyes locked forward.  Rosemary saw one of his hands at her pussy and wondered if that is what was calming her.  
Then Thomas handed a cane over to Lisa, a thin one with small segments.  “Fifteen strikes.  If a strike does not make her cry out, it does not count.  So be sure to strike well, Lisa.”  He stood behind Heather and smiled at Cook.  
“I am so sorry,” said Lisa to Heather.  “I thought we were punishing Lydia.”
“Silence!” commanded Thomas.  “Give her your punishment or I will give it,”
Lisa quickly moved into position and readied her swing.  She had been hit many times with a cane but had never been made to strike anyone before.  She tried to repeat what she had seen and swung the cane level with the ground, directly at Heather’s chest.  It landed across both her nipples at once, a solid strike.  Thomas grabbed her as she bent over screaming, his hands holding hers behind her head.  She would not be allowed to block any strikes nor would she be allowed to soothe the pain.
“That was one,” Thomas said casually.  Cook smiled and casually leaned against a cabinet.  The next three strikes Lisa quickly landed made Heather cry out in one long howl.  The first mark had started to turn red and Heather’s nipples were getting hard.  
“Be careful of your strikes Lisa,” said Cook.  “Only the ones on her tits count.”  Lisa started to cry in sympathy for Heather, her last strike rather high for a ‘breast’ strike.  
Rosemary found herself touching her own breasts as the punishment escalated.  She also knew how painful caning was and she was not looking forward to ever having her own tits beaten like that.  However, she could not deny how her body was reacting to seeing the poor girl suffer like that.  A part of her that she wanted to deny existed wished for the attention Heather was getting right now.  She lowered her hands when she noticed Cook staring straight at her, a smile on the woman’s face.  
On the last strike, Lisa landed the cane directly on top of her first strike and Heather collapsed.  Thomas had let her go finally and she rolled on the floor in pain.  He placed the tip of his shoe between her legs, taking advantage of her position.  Each time she rolled over, he rubbed harder until she stopped moving, her legs spread wide for the butler.  She was still crying, her breasts lined with purple and red marks, but she was also grinding her pussy onto his foot.  
He stopped before she brought herself to an orgasm and the look of anger in her eyes was clearly directed at him.  He leaned in close to her and asked “Who takes yours?” just barely loud enough for Rosemary and Lisa to hear over Lydia’s crying.  Heather looked shocked at Thomas’s question. 
“Takes mine?” she asked.
“Yes.  Lisa chose to give her punishment.  You choose who takes yours,” said Thomas.  “Choose.”
Rosemary went cold when Heather looked right at her.  The screams from Martin’s collection were still fresh in her mind.  As well as the memory of the canings she had at the orphanage.  Her feet were still sore from the auction pillory last night and having them caned now might drive her insane.  Heather broke her eye contact with Rosemary and whispered a name.  Rosemary could tell it started with an L but could not hear the full name.
Thomas clearly could and started to move toward Lydia on the table.  She began crying again, sobbing and barely catching her breath.  After having her pussy whipped, getting her feet caned was sending her into hysterics.  She began to calm when Thomas lifted her off the table and helped her to stand, one hand eagerly pulling her up by her nipple.  
Lisa started to cry now as she moved to replace Lydia on the table.  She was allowed to keep her dress but Thomas made sure it was pulled up high enough to show the room her sex, slick with moisture among her pubic hair.  Her legs strained against the braces, holding her open.  Thomas added some leather straps to her ankles to keep her in place before he turned to Heather.  
“You said 20 cane strikes to the foot, correct?” he asked her.  
“Each,” she said, her voice noticeably cold.  Rosemary instantly felt that crossing her would be a very bad idea.  Hearing Heather say ‘Each’ sent Lisa into a frenzy and she tried to rise from the table.  Almost instantly, Cook was on her, forcing her to stay in place.  
“Take the strikes, dear.  Fight and you will end up out back for the labors.  Remember your first days here?” said Cook, trying to calm the slave.  It seemed to work because she stilled quickly.  Rosemary started to get scared.  She was new here.  Out back sounded like something all the slaves went through.  And she had not even met Master Malone yet.
Thomas lifted a cane and began striking Lisa’s feet.  He took turns, five on one foot, five on the other.  He alternated back and forth until he had run the full twenty strikes on each sole, Cook cooing and kissing on the screaming girl trapped beneath her.
“Let this be a lesson to all of you.  Don’t be so quick to judge your Master as a harsh man.  Life is harsh enough already,” he said calmly, ending his words looking directly at Rosemary.  The chill of fear she had deepened at his sharp gaze.  She knew instantly she would do whatever the man commanded.  
He winked at Cook as she continued to console Lisa.  Cook smiled back at him and Rosemary suddenly got the impression that this was an outcome the two had planned in advance.  And had done many times to slaves over the years.  
“Lydia, go get clean dresses for yourself and Heather.  Something that is a loose fit for her, I imagine.  Be grateful that Becca switched to the cotton bed sheets for your dresses,” he said to them.  “The old burlap dresses we used to use would have rubbed your skin bloody.”
Rosemary was sure he was remembering something he enjoyed but he said it in a way that made it sound like he was being nice to the slaves.  Lydia passed by her, moving carefully so that her thighs did not rub against each other.  After being tortured for years at the orphanage, Rosemary could very well sympathize with her movements.  There had been mornings she could barely walk due to all the stimulations she had been forced through.
She kept her eyes on Thomas knowing he determined her future here at Malone Manor.  He moved toward the door leading outside, not looking at her or saying anything.  Rosemary followed, scared of being left alone in the kitchen with Cook and the disciplined slaves.  ‘I don’t want to find out how they punish disobedience around here,’ she thought.  She still remembered how she was whipped when she refused to eat the food offered at the Lancaster estate.
She had no memory of entering the Manor through this very doorway but she hurried to follow Thomas outside.  The stable was open already and the Lord’s carriage was being tended to by the two male slaves assigned to the work.  They paused when they noticed Thomas but went back to work when he gave a slight wave of his hand at them.  
He took long strides away from the Manor and out into the fields.  She nearly ran to keep up with him, her bare feet slipping in the dirt and occasional mud patches.  Her bare legs burned both from the effort and the tall grasses she was running through.  Thomas’s boots were muddy now but his strides were not affected as hers were.  They had been climbing a slight rise in the landscape.  Once they reached the peak of it, Rosemary saw an even larger stable, a proper barn.  But this one was not built for horses.
It was the same shape and painted the same color but it was far more spacious.  The paddock was about the same size, however, due to the fact that it penned in humans, not horses.  Rosemary slowed a bit and looked in fascination at the scene.   There were four people wearing harnesses that made them resemble the horses at the other stable, black leather straps and not much else.  The bit gags and head harnesses looked both elegant and highly restraining.  These slaves were clearly not for domestic duties.  
Thomas had gotten quite a bit ahead of her and Rosemary was scared at what might happen to her if she fell too far behind the man.  She rushed to close the distance she had made by staring at the human horses.  Off in the distance, several figures were moving in the fields.  Rosemary noticed them but could not tell if they were slaves or hired labor.  Many of the Lords hired extra men to farm the land they had been granted by the Crown and local Governors.
As they approached the building Rosemary started to grow more nervous.  She could see that the four slaves were dressed as horses, three females and a male.  They were all hobbled and could barely move around, even their hands had been locked away.  The female’s breasts had all been bound, tight globes straining in the leather.  The male had been given cock rings and testicle restraints, keeping him hard and taught.
Rosemary almost ran into Thomas, who had stopped at the side of the building.  She liked how that cock looked and it distracted her.  She noticed the smile Thomas flashed her.  It bothered her how much she liked him smiling at her like that, as if he was already doing things to her in his imagination.  ‘Is he whipping me?  Forcing me on that cock over there?  Or swallowing down his cum?’ she wondered.  Her pussy moistened and she ached for some attention.  Her hands drifted to her tits as Thomas used a key on the large lock securing the stables.  
He entered and left the door open, clearly expecting her to follow.  They were in a single room, built apart from the rest of the interior.  Rosemary thought they were going to be inside the whole building, not just this small room.  It had a high barred window in the corner above a table and there was a strange looking object in the middle of the room.  It was a large wedge made out of wood and had metal loops on the edges along the bottom.  She had never seen anything like it before.
He moved to the table and she noticed it held a wash basin along with some cloths.  He reached under the table and removed a stool.  He set it next to the object in the middle of the room and went back to the table.  He moved the one of the cloths and uncovered several strips of brown leather.  Rosemary looked out the open door, realizing she had followed this man without a word all the way here.  She stood there, looking out that door, wondering if she could survive running.  She knew slaves tried running away every day.  She had never heard of one making it free, though.  
“I don’t blame you for daydreaming.  I think all slaves dream of freedom,” said Thomas behind her.  “It is rare for a slave to be granted freedom, but it does happen.  If your owner is particularly impressed or feels your value is increased as a free person.  But considering how lucky you have been so far, I would not gamble that away by trying to run.”  He took her arm and led her over to the wooden shape.
“Normally, when we buy slaves, it’s from a trader upon request or at auction,” he said to her, motioning her to sit astride the wedge.  “However, I bought you last night for a number of reasons that skip the usual process around here.  You were more of an impulse buy.  Mainly because I had no idea you were going to be available.”
She straddled the shape, noticing that the center of the top had been worn down from the sharp edge it maintained at the far ends.  It hurt her crotch to sit on the edge and she was not sure how long she could stay here.  Thomas took her hands and placed cuffs on her wrists.  Next, he threaded a loop of leather through the rings on the cuffs and strung the leather into a hook above her head.  He moved behind her and pulled hard.  She moved her hands up fast to keep him from causing her too much pain. 
She could not see his smile but she could tell he tied off the end behind her.  She could pull herself up a little with her arms now, easing the pressure on her pussy.  Thomas then looped straps around her knees on each side of the wedge, using the metal loops Rosemary had noticed along the bottom edge.  When he was done, she knew she could not lift her legs away from the wooden device without those straps removed.
“His birthday is soon and I wanted to get him a special gift.  He expressed interest in you at your auction months ago, but Lord Lancaster bought the entire block.  So he never even got a chance to inspect you or make a bid.”  Thomas lifted one of her feet toward her ass and strapped it in place with a belt.  Rosemary squealed at the change of pressure on her crotch, the edge digging into her and sending shocks of pain through her.
“I think that is the first noise you have made around me all day!”  said Thomas.  “I knew you were no mute.  You were begging for anyone to buy you last night.  It was so cute, your tired, tear-stained face looking for any hope of rescue.”  Thomas moved to her other side and repeated the binding.  She was fully trapped now.  No amount of struggling was going to free her.
“I know you have been trained for silence and milking over at Lancaster Manor but here you are expected to have a voice.  If you expect to be comfortable in the house proper, you must show a willingness to serve and a level of acceptable obedience.  Am I making myself clear?” he asked her.
“Yes Master,” she said, the words coming automatically.  
Thomas immediately picked up a loop of leather attached to a handle and started striking Rosemary repeatedly.  He swiped it across her chest several times and began moving down her body.  Strikes on her belly were followed by some hits to her pussy and her upper thighs.  Rosemary cried and screamed, pulling on her bonds.  The only movements she could make was to grind her clit against the wedge or try to lift herself off it for a moment.
“Never call me that!  If Master heard you calling anyone but him that, he will put you permanently out for the day laborers.  I am to be called Sir or Sir Thomas.  You have only one Master and he is mine too.”  His voice was fierce and stern.  Rosemary regretted the mistake.  Her skin burned where he had struck and it also aroused her in a way she did not like or understand.  If he were to leave this moment, she would likely grind on the wedge until she came from the pain.
“I train all the slaves here and Becca runs the house.  If either of us tells you to do something, you had better do it or you will be punished.  The only person who can over-rule us is Master Malone himself.  Understood?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” she said, slightly scared of his reaction, her breath still ragged from crying.  He did not seem to notice her hesitation.
“Good girl.  It’s the Master’s birthday in a few weeks and there will be a party to celebrate.  If you really are a good girl and take to the training quickly, maybe you will be allowed to participate,” he said.  
Rosemary was not fully sure, but it sounded to her like he had multiple meanings in what he said.  She had already seen him say one thing and mean something different.  The last birthday party she had been involved with was Martin’s, and she did not want to repeat that ever again.  Even though she was new to Malone Manor, she knew how the upper classes treated slaves.  While she was grateful to have been purchased last night and was still among the living, she was starting to wonder if that was a good thing.  
“Your first lesson is learning your place here,” he continued.  “Lord Malone takes great pride in his well trained slaves.  Follow the rules and you will be promoted, praised, pleasured and pampered.  Fight and you will find yourself working the fields with the day labor or, worse, sold off or abandoned.”  He paused for a moment and looked her straight in her eyes.  
“You are a slave,” he said, very calmly.  Then he struck her hard on the leg with the leather loop, making her scream.
“What did I say?” Thomas said to her after she finished crying.
“I...I am a slave,” she sobbed out.  His hand few again, striking her across the tits this time.
“Say it again, correctly this time,” said Thomas after she calmed down again.
“I am a slave,” repeated Rosemary, not fully understanding what he wanted.  She also could not understand why she wanted to have his cock buried inside her pussy.  Or filling her mouth.  She started to rock her crotch against the wedge, pressing her clit against the hard wooden edge it offered.
Thomas struck her several times across her legs and belly.  She used the timing of his strikes to grind down harder onto her clit.  His hand came to rest at the center of her back, holding her full body weight on her clit.  He kept her pressed forward like that for several moments as she cried, unable to stimulate her clit anymore.  The pleasure she was building up to faded into pain.
“I know what you want, little slave.  I want you to cum too.  But not yet,” he nearly whispered in her ear.  “Say it correctly.  Say you are a slave.”
“I am a slave, sir!” she nearly screamed out, her clit agony and her skin hot fire.
“Good girl,” he said as he released her.  She leaned back, driving the wedge along the crack of her ass and spreading herself open a bit at her asshole.  A shiver of pleasure shot up her spine.  In her haze of pain, her brain registered the contact as something to chase and she leaned back on the wedge with a wiggle.
“You belong to Master Malone,” he said to her.
“I belong to Master Malone, sir,” she repeated.
Thomas smiled.  He could see she clearly could derive pleasure from pain.  And she learned quickly, even if it took a bit of extra effort to get her started.  He could easily work with that.  In fact, he found it a bit more fun that way.  She could be roughed up a bit before having fun.  Or trained.  He knew Master liked them best that way too.  He specifically sought out the masochist slaves for his entertainment.  
“You will accept punishments,” said Thomas, idly swinging the leather loop with one hand now.
“I will accept punishments, sir,” Rosemary repeated.  She was calming down again but the heat of lust in her pussy was still there, simmering away inside.  She started to rock her hips against the wedge, making her way to that edge of orgasm.
Thomas struck her again, hard, across the top of her chest.  “You do not cum without permission, slave,” he said.
“I am sorry, sir!  This slave will not cum without permission, sir!” she bellowed, tears flowing down her face again.  Thomas was being cruel to her but some part of her, deep down, was seeking this kind of attention.  
Thomas smiled.  She was catching on fast.  He was pretty sure she would train easily.  She even had a chance of becoming a favorite of the Master if she performed well enough.  “I am going to speak with our Master, little slave Rosemary.  Remember the rules,” he said, almost as if it was a warning to her.
He left the room and shut the door.  She heard the latch catch and the lock snap shut.  She was now trapped and alone, the wedge digging into her crotch with each passing moment.  She pulled herself up a few times, allowing the pain to subside briefly.  But she could not lift off the wedge completely and she was not strong enough to hold herself up off the painful edge for very long.  
Each lift became shorter and shorter as her arms began to tire and burn.  It was not long before they started to go numb from being held high in the air.  She also was starting to have trouble taking in a deep breath.  Panic started to make her breathe fast, her heart pounding in her chest.  Thomas had not said how long he would be gone.
Her ears began to pick up on all the local sounds around her.  Someone or something was making a lot of angry noises nearby.  Muffled screams and metal banging on metal.  She could also hear the jingle of the harnesses on the four slaves in the paddock.  They sounded restless and she understood why when a new voice sounded out.
“Calm down, calm down!” said a male voice.  “I know, I know.  You all want out so you can stretch your legs.  Just give me a moment!”  Sounds of a wooden gate opening and closing drowned out all the other noises for a moment.  She heard another door open, one that must have been attached to the stable but not the one connected to her room.  
“I was just gone for an hour!  Calm down, Starcunt!  You too, Hardcock!” the man was nearly yelling.  “Why don’t you two behave!  Keep it up and you won’t be allowed to compete you know,”  Immediately, the noise level dropped from the other side of the wall.
“That’s what I thought.  Ha!  See there?  Hardcock wants to stud more than he wants to bother me!  You too, Starcunt!  I know how much you want to be bred,” he said.  “Your sisters over there have the right idea, patiently waiting at the gate.  No!  These are not for you!  These are for your sisters over there.  They were not crowding me, so they get the treats!”
“Honeyclit!  Tinytits!  Come over here and get your treats.  Right now!” said the man, his voice sounding distant to her.  “Good girls!  Good girls!”  There was a long pause before she heard “Yes, now we go walking.  High step, all of you!”  Rosemary jerked when she heard a whip snap.  
‘This place is harsh!  I don’t know if I can survive here,’ she thought.  ‘Maybe I should have just died in that alley.  Maybe I will die here instead!  Oh god!  What is going to happen to me?  And why am I so horny?!’  Rosemary strained against her bondage, rocking her hips along the wedge.  A few more hits to her clit and she would cum.  Then the words Thomas said echoed back into her mind.  ‘Remember the rules.’  And one of them had been no cumming without permission.
Rosemary began to cry again, this time her panic taking her where pain had been dragging her.  She shook on the wedge, pulling on the cuffs and trying to free her legs.  Nothing worked.  She was fully trapped on the device, the pain it was delivering climbing into every nerve she had.  The more she fought, the faster she breathed.  Each breath was getting harder and harder to draw in fully.  Her pussy ached, her ass ached.  She felt like she was being suffocated and split in two.
She had worked herself up into such a state of panic that she did not hear the door open.  It was not until Thomas and another man stood in front of her that she even noticed that she was no longer alone.  She took gulping breaths, hot tears running down her face.  She was trying to calm down but the new man was staring so hard at her.
“Thomas, you really have out done yourself this time!” he said.  “Lancaster was just getting rid of her?  Really?  After outbidding every one at the auction for the entire lot?”
“Yes, Master.  Martin Lancaster.  Apparently, according to their porter Tony, he deflowered her and was not satisfied.  He instructed them to sell her at The Last Chance,” said Thomas.  “She had been there all day by the time I bought her for you.  Happy Birthday, Master.  I will train her hard so hopefully she will ready for your party.”
“Please no!” begged Rosemary.  “Please, Master, have mercy on your slave!  Please Master!  I want to serve you!  Please!”
“Thomas, it would be a shame to break her.  See how willing she already is?” Lord Malone said to his butler.  “Go gather the laborers and the slave hands.  I need to tell them about Tina.  And it will give me a chance to get to know my new property.”
“Yes Master,” said Thomas, giving Rosemary a sideways look.  He had every plan to be harsh with her, just as he was with all the slaves.  He knew that the truly submissive ones would cling to Master even more when they experienced just a hint of Master’s kindness after Thomas had disciplined them.  He smiled, pleased at how well she was being pulled into her servitude to Lord Malone.  
“Tell me, slave, what is it you want most right now?” Ian asked her, sweetness in his voice and the leather loop causally in his hand.
“Master, this slave wants to cum please.  I am hungry and I hurt and I know cumming will feel so good I can forget about all that for a moment,” said Rosemary, pleading with her Master.
“You really want to cum, do you?” he asked, sliding a finger into her slick pussy.  He fingered her a bit, enjoying how she closed her eyes at his touch.  Once his fingers were moistened, he curled them and slid up along her clit.  Her reaction was just as he had hoped.  She started to moan and shiver, grinding against his contact.  He moved against her clit several times while watching her increase her movements.  
Rosemary was quickly approaching the orgasm she had been seeking when Ian let go of her clit and struck her several times on her tits.  She screamed, pulling the strap at her wrists, lifting herself off the wedge.  “I did not say you could cum,” he said calmly to her.  She opened her eyes to see his hunger looking right back at her.  He stroked her tits, easing the pain he had caused.  
“Thomas decorated you enough my Rosemary.  I really don’t want to break you on my wooden horse. I don’t want you broken at all.  I want you to willingly serve me, as best as you are able.  Would you like that too?” he asked her, hoping for a particular answer.
“Master, please can I cum?  Will you please let me feel your cock in my pussy?  I really want to have sex, Master,” she nearly begged.  She twisted and squirmed on the wedge, her crotch still in agony.  The fire he had ignited was still burning and she felt that a penis inside her would be the best way to relieve it.
“I wont fuck what Martin Lancaster violated so recently,” he said to her.  He succeeded in holding back the smile he got when she started crying.  “In case you carry his seed, I won’t touch you like that.  Ask me to fuck your cunt after your next cycle.”  Rosemary sobbed, feeling like Martin had ruined her for her new Master.  “But.  I suppose you can suck my cock, if you feel you can do a good job.”
“Oh yes, Master!  I can suck dick very well! It was part of my daily training.  Tony and Brent never complained!  Please!  Please Master can I suck your cock?  Please!” she begged, opening her mouth wide and offering her tongue, tears still running down her face.
“You just want off that horse,” said Ian, testing her resolve.
“Master, please!  I am so hungry! Can I please have your cum?  Please!  Master, please let me have your cock!” begged Rosemary.  Ian could hear the truth in her desperation.  He knew she was starving, and not just for attention.
She began to cry tears of joy when he untied the leash holding her wrists above her.  Her arms would be useless for a few more minutes as the blood began to flow normally again, so he unbound her ankles from her legs for her.  Once her knees were loose, he lifted her off the wedge and she simply fell against him.  He smiled deeply when she felt at his crotch.  Even in her current state, she had kept her mind on the proper goal.  He would indeed enjoy having this new slave in the house.