my very first story

Sat, 09 Sep 2006 16:28:00 GMT

** A Slave's Journey - Through the Portal **

I was a beggar in a temple having just eaten my daily meal given in exchange for being
on a kind of spanking bench all night, waiting for a warrior goddess to appear. The cult
worshiped the warrior goddesses who sometimes came through the portal and provided them with us as sacrifices in this manner. After all who cares if a few beggars each night disappear never to be heard from again?

But perhaps I should explain a little about my position in what was once my world before I continue on with my story.

I was born as one of the scum who inhabit the appened. On a few nights the Goddess Ayesha appeared, or rather that's what the priests called her. They were never present when this happened, only those of us who were sitting on the benches ever saw her. And we never saw her face, unless we were the one selected. And that one always disappeared. At best we might catch a glimpse of leg, foot or waist.

Also sometimes there were more than one. Always they selected exactly one and only one of us apiece for their needs. If there were two of them, each would take one of us. So that two us disappeared. If three of them, three of us disappeared. I had never seen four of them at the portal.

Sometimes they would peruse us, pausing and touching us as if unable to decide
perhaps, and, I had felt their touch and even heard their voice in my ear, but never did
I see their face. I had a glimpse of their skirts and leg wear sometimes as they would
browse the row of beggars in front of me. I even saw a belt and weapons. I liked what
I saw.

They were clad in Roman armor and leather with greaves on their shins and were
wearing sandals bound to their feet in the Roman manner. All in all more of the warrior
than the goddess. They would have a whip or other weapon in their belts. If a goddess
existed she could grant me my wish, a full belly. Yes, I wanted to be taken.

Sometimes one would pause behind me, examining the merchandise perhaps, and
murmur a promise to return for me, that if I was still there she'd pick me tomorrow but
that another was selected that night before me. Promises, promises. I was there for the food that the priests gave out and no other reason or so I told myself.

One night one of these warrior goddesses picked me, caressing me lovingly and
undoing the ropes that bound me to the bench. Admiring me as if I were an athlete instead of a weakling she led me to the portal. I gazed at her face which I now saw for the first time. She was clad in Roman armor with Roman battle skirt, armlets and a helmet with Roman crest, her face was gorgeous, however I remembered thinking that
I'd love to worship her as a goddess. She seemed to have some particular destiny in
mind for me. I knew that I was going to disappear from my world and I didn't care. She
escorted me, tying me up, my arms bound behind me, and -poof- we exited my world
exchanging it for hers where I was to become a slave. I have never returned to the world which was once mine nor do I care to do so. I was granted my wish. As a slave I will always have a full belly. In fact I am very well cared for by The Masters to whom I owe obedience. I am in fact an athlete where before I was a weakling.

I learned later that the warrior goddesses are a kind of slaver coming to our world to collect slaves both men and women for her world's needs. She bears weapons like the sword, whip and riding crop in her belt, the slaver collects the slaves her world needs or desires with impunity from worlds lacking the technology or the will to resist such exploitation. In their world the most advanced warrior technology is the bow and arrow
or the sword, not because they neglected to learn of the gun and bomb but because they eschew them because they are not sporting. Once they had technology far more advanced than any other world. They grew arrogant with the power this technology gave them. They warred amongst themselves and almost exterminated themselves. They ended this war by agreeing to exploit the nearby clone Earths, those worlds in the endless possibility of worlds where the physical conditions allowed for identical biology, thus they became The Masters and we became their slaves.

Once selected and taken through the portal I would be confronted with the following
fantastic scene, a line of slaves, both men and women, all naked, accompanied by
the slavers. There was an ancient castle where once long ago a terrible war had been
fought. There were eight more slavers clad as the one accompanying me. Their mounts
are all over sized women and men, obviously slaves, collared and branded, otherwise
naked, save for the riding gear they were clad in. The normal sized slaves like myself
were newcomers, without collars, most were branded, but some like me were not. None
were collared. As I look at the giant slaves there is just a hint of envy in my gaze. What I would not give to be one of them!

When the giant slaves are used as mounts there is a harness that they wear that allows their riders to put their legs in the slave's hands like a stirrup, the saddle is on the slave's shoulders, the slave's heads are bent forward allowing them to look down at their feet but not forward. The slaves must have total confidence in their Masters to guide them. There is a bit with reins in the slave's mouth to guide them. The slave's feet are encased in a metal boot like a horse shoe. There are leather straps binding the stirrups also metallic to the giant slave's sides. Otherwise the slaves are naked save for the ever present collar which is a token of rank in the slave society. The token of slavery itself is the brand. The over large size is a sign of being used as a mount, not all slaves are thus enlarged, those that are so made are highly valued as property, the highest ambition that a slave can have.

I am put into the coffle by my slaver who is now mounted on her riding slave,
an enormous female having the strength and size to easily carry her Master, saddle
and all the gear that she was clad in, made of leather and metal. My slaver positions herself just behind me and encourages me along with a flick of her whip. I am tied
up to the next forward in the rope chain and in turn to the slave behind me. My feet
are free so that I will not stumble and fall no matter how fast I am urged on. Another
is at my back, we are all chained, ropes tied hands to necks.

We march single file with slavers to the left and right of us for some hours. The slavers
mounts all seem to be dreamily happy with smiles on their faces rarely displaying any
other emotion. Every once in a while they would drop excrement of either variety without embarrassment or otherwise showing reaction. It is as if nothing had happened.
Neither do their riders notice in the slightest except to use their riding crops to flick at
a bug attracted by the deed. These riding slaves are clearly well fed and contented
animals who never utter an intelligent word. Occasionally they will startle at a snake or
imaginary fright and need calming from their riders. But the soothing is nonverbal or
at most a sing-song crooning given by the steed's rider.

We marched through a marsh to the sea shore and along that to a ridge where lay an
ancient castle similar to the one where I had emerged onto this world. There two of the
nine slavers accompanying us move to a stone that at first appears to be no different
than the rest. There is a flash of blue light and a doorway appears. The two slavers
step through the doorway. The seven remaining slavers guard us as we rest still linked
by the rope chain. The nine giant riding slaves are held by the seven and calmed. There
is a sense of dread in the camp emanating from all the slaves including the giants,
although in them it is limited as from a dimming in their intelligence. After a pause of
about fifteen minutes one of the two slavers emerges accompanied by a new slave.
After another five minutes the other returns with yet another slave. The two new slaves are females. They are attached to the coffle which has now grown to twelve slaves equal in number as to gender. We return to the march.

At nightfall we encamp and I am untied. The giant slaves are led to the side of the encampment where they are fettered and then they are hooded to calm them as shackled about their knees and feet they are clearly helpless. One of them relieves himself in terror and is struck about the neck as this is clearly forbidden. We are huddled into two groups, those that have been branded and those that have not. I am in the latter with the two new women and another man. The slavers make ready a fire. They eat their meal and afterwards the scraps are offered to us as if we were dogs. The hobbled slaves are given nothing to eat. One wonders if they need nourishment. Perhaps later they will be given hay and watered down like a horse or a camel.

There will be a branding. Mine. The slaver who abducted or rescued me from my world goes to the line of hobbled riding mounts and selects hers from the line, untying her and it appears that she stares into her mount's face and that the slave nearly faints, but both turn and approach me. The slaver takes me from the group and forces me to
kneel. I am terrified staring at the fire and the glowing object within. It is poker like and
I realize that it is a branding iron. The slaver's mount who being very much larger than
me has no trouble in controlling me, keeping me on the ground after the slaver has returned to where the other slavers wait. I am massaged by this giant slave and slowly I am soothed, I do not notice when I finally fall asleep.

In my dream the giant slave approaches me and she speaks to me, explaining that we are all slaves and that I am going to love The Masters as she does, that my happiness will come when they are pleased. That I am not to fear what must happen next. I wake, they are ready for me, the iron is red hot. I am taken to the fire and made to kneel on the ground before it. The iron is brought near, I can feel the heat. They hold me down. The iron is pressed to my flesh, I scream in agony through the bit they have put in my mouth. The iron is a very long time burning into my flesh, marking me as a slave for the rest of my life. Then it is over, the giant slave takes me again and comforts me, we sleep, we dream of the future. I dream of a Lord and a Lady whom I will love. I do not recognize their faces but I do see the face of the giant female slave and know her to be of their household. The slaves of this household are kin, but The Masters are beloved.

When I reach the city I am led to the slave market, I am hooded and put on a pole for viewing. The Masters, both Lords and Ladies, view the new slaves called boys and girls. My feet are shackled into the ground with a wooden shackle before the wooden pole, my neck and hands tied to it by bits of rope. As my head is hooded I am unable to see them, but I can feel them, touching me, admiring me, making sure that all of my body parts work correctly. I am taken to the place of sale where the auctioneer removes my hood. An assistant masturbates me, I am commanded to remain still while this happens. This point is made clear with gestures using a knife. The auction begins. One of the participants is the slaver who originally selected me in the temple. She bids, others bid. I am sold. The auctioneer takes me off the platform I look upon the face of the slaver who brought me to this world. She owns me. I am her slave. She is my Master. She has
a bronze collar in her hands that she places upon my throat. I have been told that as long as I am obedient I will be happy.

Later I have another dream during which I see the same giant slave, only she is normal
sized. Again she speaks and tells me things. She tells me that slaves can only speak
to each other and only in this manner, for coming from distant worlds their tongues are
all different. Also The Masters have a different tongue as well. They would not deign
to speak to mere slaves anyway, they use their weapons, but it will be all right, for
slaves teach slaves, not The Masters. But slaves always obey their Masters, so there is
no need for pain. We exist to give them pleasure. In my dream I see The Lady who
is my Master with her husband, The Lord, who also owns me and they are both very
much smaller than either of us. That is when I realize that I am dreaming that I am one
of the giant slaves myself. I am to be genetically altered into a giant male slave, I am to be ridden by The Lord and The Lady. I know now that I will come to love The Lord and The Lady. I am to know the joy of surrender. I realize then that I already love pleasing them and that the wish I had made when entering The World of The Masters will come true.

I am taken to the veterinarians who begin my transformation. I will have alterations
made to both my genetic structure and my physiology that will allow me to mutate into
a giant herbivorous primate. I will eat a special diet that will be digested in my new
stomachs, and I will be given shots of growth hormone. Eventually I shall begin to grow
larger, slowly at first, then more rapidly. my musculature will broaden to support much
more weight than what a human could and I will become much more massive. my mental abilities will be channeled into new directions as well, to suit my new role as a beast of burden. I will be capable of swiftly interpreting simple commands and gestures, obeying them instantly without even thinking which will come in handy as some of the sounds to which I will be conditioned will be words in a foreign language that I was never capable of understanding and nonsense words. All at the cost of some of my reasoning functions which I will no longer need, now that I am a riding slave. Thus some of the human being that I once was will have disappeared, but I will be more than happy in my new life because I will now please The Masters more than ever by being what I will become.

my alteration has begun. I have noticed that my higher reasoning functions have begun
to dim while at the same time my love for The Masters is growing. I am often upset or
terrified at the silliest things. The Lady has come to my rescue at these times. And so
I have come to love her even more. I have lost the embarrassment that would once have held me back in leaping to their commands. Still sometimes I befoul myself like an animal, but she comforts me when occasionally I notice this, rubbing my face down and mumbling nonsense words that I think in her Master's Language mean something like, "Silly horsey, of course you beshit yourself, you're a horse".

There are three forms of chariot which are used in riding besides the shoulder saddle.
There is the elaborate carriage holding three pairs of riding slaves equipped with smaller
slaves as ornamental pieces and a driver to guide the reins meant for formal occasions.
There is the single rider racing chariot, holding three riding slaves in a single row, built
for a wild race in the woods and sometimes with a passenger. And then there is the single rider racer for only one racing slave, a chariot designed for the very fastest of races, sometimes conducted in illegal matches to the slave's death.

Our typical day as riding slaves begins with a good exterior and internal scouring to
cleanse us. Then we are put to morning pasture. The girls are segregated from the boys as all breeding is conducted by arrangement in advance between Masters. I am always kept in a chastity device to which only The Lady has the key. I eat hay or grass digesting it slowly and regurgitate it from one stomach to the next. I have three stomachs now, given to me by the veterinarian scientists so that I can get every scrap of nourishment from this fare. I must maintain my monstrous weight and musculature so that I may carry The Lord or The Lady and anything they wish to carry on my saddled shoulders. It will take me all day to eat my full, with a pause in the middle of the day to be vigorously exercised. Occasionally as a special treat The Lady will feed me a carrot which I take from her hand. At evening we are again bathed internally and externally and put in the sleeping stalls in the stables.

Once after a thrilling ride as the center of a triple I was taken out to be wet down and
fed off to the side while a maintenance slave kept track of the other two racing slaves.
Off in the woods alone with The Lord and The Lady I was treated to a delight, my first
reward of pleasure/pain. As a slave it was my obligation to endure pain for my Masters
and my pleasure came from Theirs. But now with The Lady expertly wielding the flail
and The Lord using the bull whip on me I was soon beyond endorphins and in ecstasy.
I was treated to the rarity of my life, but soon it became the norm. I looked forward
to this more and more as I pleased my Masters. And I wanted to please them even
more.

One day The Lady brought me into the stable where my almost constant companion, the female riding slave that I dreamed of and with so long ago, is already receiving a body wash as a reward for a good day's workout in the pasture. The Lady signals the other slave to be brought near and forcing my legs spread slightly with my hands at my back, she commands the female to kneel and approaches her gazing deeply into her eyes. She cannot take this and falls asleep. It is but for a moment for that is all that it takes in REM time, but the commands have been given, and once commanded and understood, a slave cannot but obey. She gets up and approaches me and kneels again awaiting a hand signal. The Lady disappeared behind my back and after a moment or two I began to feel the strokes of her cat on my calves. She must have signaled because then the female slave began to suck me off. I think I may have climaxed at least ten times under pleasure/pain.

At an annual event in this world's fall, a race is held to see which riding slave is the true champion slave. This slave alone gets to wear however briefly the golden collar. There are a series of qualifying races in a fair like atmosphere. At the end of the day there are only eight slaves worthy of racing in The Great Race which determines the champion.

One of the senior slaves in my Master's household was competing. After a thrilling race he won the golden collar. Proudly he strutted in his new collar, then he saw The Masters and he felt something akin to pride (a thing that we had all abandoned in order to serve our Masters better) and smiled. They deigned to smile back at him. The Lord took out His bull whip and The Lady her flail. Together they bathed him in pleasure/pain
for hours, until he was unable to feel anything but joy and submitted to being hitched to the single chariot for the death ride. The Lord took him madly round and round until his heart gave out, all the while deeply in pleasure/pain, he felt nothing but joy at having served his Masters so well.

When he finally died they took him up in their arms and held him close. There will always be a home for slaves as long as they please their Masters. He was taken to the taxidermist and stuffed as an action figure racing the final death race in full tilt wearing only his gold collar and put on exhibit in The Great Hall of the Mansion of The Masters. The Lord and The Lady are so proud of him and the other slaves preserved there.

I hope that one day after much giving and receiving of pleasure I too shall be there in a
position of honor for a racing slave of my Master's household. I can think of no greater
pleasure than dying in their arms after having greatly pleased my Masters for a lifetime.

** The End **

johntes1

my very first story