Collared Slutgirls

Sally swallowed nervously as she approached the great dome in the center of the acres of parking lot. Cinching her belt tighter around her waist, pulling the unfamiliar jeans higher as she did so, the high school senior began to walk toward the building, looking straight ahead under the low brim of her baseball cap.

Around her, hundreds of others walked toward the Slave Expo, the nightly trade show, auction and marketplace for nubile female girls. Most were men, but there some women among them – confident business women in suits and pencil skirts, placid housewives in long dresses, eager college students in halter tops and miniskirts. Entire families could be seen, chatting happily as mom and dad carefully ushered in sons and daughters to see the new merchandise recently enslaved.
Signs dotted the paths leading to the dome entrance – “No one under 21 admitted without an adult,” “Please register new slaves at the door” and, most concerning to Sally, “Unaccompanied girls between 18-21 will be summarily collared.”
She pulled her cap lower, her long red hair piled carefully underneath. She was taking a great risk coming here, but at 18, she had to know what was inside at last.
Now Sally had to stifle her reactions as the sellers came by. Licensed slavers with a coffle of naked girls threaded the crowd, while others were just parents ridding themselves of an excess daughter or two.
Sally drifted to the right as a family of five passed her, the parents holding the hands of a boy and girl, both under 12. The father’s hand not grasped by the little girl gripped a leash which led to a leather collar locked around the throat of an 18-year-old with large breasts – tits, Sally realized, they would be called now. Slaves had tits and cunts, not breasts and vaginas.
“Is Betsy really going to be sold tonight?” the little boy asked, looking with eager wonder at his naked sister, who flushed as she walked quietly, eyes downcast, behind her free family.
“Maybe,” the mother said. “They might keep her for a while as a showpiece or for the games.”
“Wow,” the younger sister said. “Will I be sold someday?”
“Probably,” the father said. “Let’s hope you’ll fetch as good a price as your sister will.”
The adolescent girl grinned at her nude sibling, show looked at her little sibling and winked, even as her blush deepened. Yet her nipples were rigid and pronounced, her pussy leaking fluids down her inner thighs.
Sally shuddered a bit and slacked her pace until the family disappeared in the crowd. She did her best to ignore the other slaves – some whimpering or sniffling, barely holding back tears, others eager, rubbing their thighs together with every step, some ashamed yet unable to hide growing excitement and curiosity.
The crowd was slowly filtering into a tunnel leading to the main gate. Guards stood along the walls, eyeing the crowd, and Sally looked away, pretending to be absorbed in examining the swaying ass of the slave girl in her path.
Those with slaves in their retinue soon drifted to the left, where the girls were inspected, their value assessed and an ID tag inserted in their left nipple with a piercing gun. Squeals and cries could be heard from the girls as they were molested in the name of commerce.
Sally joined the line on the right, her hands clasped tightly before her. This was the moment of truth, she knew. Either her fake ID would work and she’d get in or it would not and she’d end up in the other line to be collared and inspected as chattel.
Yet when the guard drew close, he barely looked at the disguised youth or the ID declaring her as “Mike Smith.” He waved her in and Sally was in the Slave Expo.
Only the constant push of people entering behind her kept Sally from stopping and gaping at the sights. Her parents had never cared for the Expo and refused to let her come on the school field trip most kids took at some point, so this was her first time seeing what went on inside the dome.
The amount of naked female flesh was overwhelming. Everywhere slave girls in nothing more than collar and brand were parading about, following on leashes or calling to visitors from perches locked above vendors booths.
The first thing Sally focused on almost sent her back out the door. A grouping of pillories, several occupied by squealing girls, stood to one side of the entrance. Each slave was freshly collared and nude and visitors were welcome to rape the new sluts. The unfortunate girls writhed in their bonds, their cries for mercy unheeded, their calls for more indulged. Above them was a simple sign that sent fear through Sally’s spine – “Gatecrashers.”
These were girls who tried what Sally was doing, sneaking in under age and now paid the price for their curiosity. Sally looked away when she recognized of the gatecrashers as Abby, the girl who might have been their high school valedictorian had she not been converted into property. Abby’s face was contorted in equal amounts of outrage, shame and lust, but all she said, between gasps of pleasure, was “More!” Behind her, Charles, her rival for the position of top of the class, pounded her tight slavecunt, grinning widely as he finally put his former nemesis in her place.
Sally began to walk among booths, each catering to different markets. One vendor was stocked with nothing but big-breasted blondes under the title, “Busty Bimbos!” Right next door, “Ginger Trollops” did brisk business, while other booths offered girls with a variety of hair colors unnatural.
Specialization was popular – booths offered girls of various skin colors and heritage, many stereotypically crass. Black, white, Hispanic, Jewish, Asian, Indian – there were slaves of all kinds for sale.
Other booths offered sluts with various modifications – piercing, tattoos. One booth sold pregnant slaves, to Sally’s shock.
The girls on display – all naked, all eager to please if only to avoid the lash – were forced to degrade themselves for the customers, whether masturbating on a stage, dancing with a pole or just enduring caresses, fondling and even fingers in the private places as part of the selling process.
Yet while some girls were stoic, trying to hold back emotion, or just weeping softly, most seemed excited, even pleased to be there. They flirted with the men who held absolute power over them, even begged passing customers to buy them. Slavery, it seemed, suited them.
Yet despite the hundreds of girls on display – Sally saw Betty, the girl from earlier, prancing about a booth selling virgin schoolgirls with a smile on her face, all shame lost in her blissful enslavement – Sally couldn’t get enough. Her eyes wide, she took in the sights she’d longed to see for so long, only barely remembering in her current attire not to rub too much at her leaking snatch.
A quick trip through the bondage booths, where painsluts were trained and sold, did no better, though Sally was sure the girls being whipped and beaten with unusual objects were not what she really wanted. Then again, if she were a slave, she would have no choice to decide her own future.
She swallowed nervously and moved on as quickly as she dared.
The games came next.
The games booths resembled a standard carnival in many ways – shooting galleries, ring games, water games and more. These, however, involved slaves, or girls wiling to risk slavery.
Many of the game booths allowed free girls to enter and, if they won, take home a stuffed animal or jewelry. If they lost, however, they would be stripped and collared on the spot and play the games as official participants after that.
Sally stopped in front of a set of chairs, where girls would strip down and sit on a pair of dildos – one for each orifice – and then endure motorized thrusting. There were eight chairs, one with a fresh slave girl, the others empty. Seven girls could compete against the slave, competing to see who could hold off orgasm the longest. If the slave came first, the other girls enjoyed the ride and left. If one of the others came first, she was collared and stayed locked in the chair as another slave to compete against.
Sally walked away quickly, trying to ignore her arousal. She glanced at the other games – a shooting gallery using paint-tipped arrows, where free girls hit by the projectiles were collared and slave raped by their shooters; water guns that aimed at a device that operated a vibrator in naked girls’ cunts, trying to arouse them into orgasm; a dunking booth were soaked girls were pulled out and ravished by the lucky thrower. But still she kept moving, trying to take it all in at once.
She would have to check the auctions.
The auction pens were crowded with naked slave flesh, young girls pressed together, tits rubbing against each other, shaking limbs intertwined, cunt juices leaking onto the floor from the frightened, aroused sluts.
Sally walked slowly past, ogling the collared chattel in a mixture of fear and… was that envy? She kept moving, trying to force down unfamiliar urges.
She stopped in the midst of the crowd surrounding the auctioneer’s platform. Onstage, the man was proclaiming the merits of an Asian girl, who squirmed in her bonds in helpless arousal as her freedom was bartered away. She sold quickly.
And then a voluptuous, black-haired girl was pushed on stage and Sally gasped. This slutgirl was Tiffany, one of her best friends. She hadn’t seen her at school in a week, but thought she was sick. Instead, she’d obviously been captured or sold and was now little more than property to be used by men.
The slave looked around frantically, her large, bared breasts heaving in fear and unknown excitement. Her long, sable hair gleamed in the light, a matching strip glistening with juices above her swollen pussy. Tiffany pulled at her wrists, bound behind her back with clinking chains.
A large beefcake of a guard gripped Tiffany’s upper arm and dragged her to the stage. A shackle was locked around her ankle, linking her to the stage.
Sally gaped at her friend. With her large breasts and pillowy ass, the girl on stage looked so much more erotic than the demure girl she’d known at school. With the steel collar winking in the spotlights, it was clear this girl was a slave.
It took only minutes for Tiffany to sell to the man who had once been her cheerleading coach. He led the former cheerleader off stage on a leash, his fingers buried in her leaking twat. Already, the new slave’s eyes glowed with adoration as she meekly submitted to her owner.
Sally sighed with relief and a touch of confused jealousy. It was clear her friend was in good hands. And, having reached the end of the Slave Expo, it was time for her to go home before the risk grew too great.
She turned to go when a stray elbow slammed into her back and she sprawled on the floor, her hat sliding away.
She stood slowly, her hair falling in a curtain down her back. Before she could even try to back up, hands grabbed her tightly on either arm.
“You’ll have to come with us, miss,” a voice said. Sally’s heart squeezed with fear, even as her traitorous cunt pulsed with excitement, juices leaking down her pants leg. She’d just wanted to see the inside of the expo, but now, she knew, she would get a much closer look at what she now knew she’d secretly wanted.
Hands went around her neck and a collar was locked in place. Her nipples tightened to steel as her slavery began.
She made no sound as her clothes were cut away, until she stood naked on the auction floor. There were whistles and catcalls as the men took in her high, erect breasts and well-shaped legs, her soaked cunt and heart-shaped ass. Sally made no move to cover herself. Slavery had descended on her and property had no right to conceal its assets.
The guards dragged her away from the stage and back toward the door. She moaned in a combination of terror and hunger as she saw the empty pillory next to Abby. Her eyes locked with her classmate, who now had the dazed acceptance of her slavery in her gaze. Abby winked at her as the guards manhandled Sally into place, her arms shut in the padded cuffs in the wood, her ankles shacked to the floor spread wide, her cunt gaping open as juices dripped to the floor.
“Have fun, slut,” a guard said as she stepped away. Sally shuddered.
And then she saw the first man walk toward her out of the crowd. And not just any man – it was Charles, who had been watching Abby idly but now looked at Sally with avaricious lust in his eyes.
He walked behind her and Sally tried to twist her head around, but the wide wooden pillory shut off her line of sight. It was only by feel she knew when her former classmate’s fingers sunk into her pussy, spreading the swollen lips and forcing a strangled moan out of her.
And, without any fanfare, the fingers were gone and the man sunk his cock to the root in her virgin pussy.
Sally screamed as her maidenhead was shredded in an instant but her rapist did not pause. He began to fuck the new slut with rapid thrusts, until she was crying out in strangled squeals and abbreviated calls for mercy.
But the burning sensations was soon building differently and she changed tack.
“Please, Master,” she begged. “Rape me harder!”
Charles only laughed and slapped her quivering ass, eliciting a shocked squeal of pleasure out of her. But he did speed up and soon Sally was screaming in pleasure as she orgasmed as a slave for the first time;
Her cries were cut off then as a second man sank his erect member between her lips and she began to give her first blowjob.
Soon, Sally came again as she felt cum flood her womb, her erotic moans coaxing cum from the cock in her throat, flooding her stomach at the same time.
As her rapists walked away, Sally looked over at Abby, who was begging her own rapist for his seed. The two locked eyes again for a moment, each with the satisfied glow of a well-fucked slave, and then Sally descended into a haze of pleasure as new rapists came forward.
She and Abby were both cum-soaked and unsteady on their feet when they were dragged away from the pillories to be processed. They screamed as they were ringed and branded and moaned as they were raped one final time by their handlers before they were ushered to the holding pens.
Soon they were taken to the auction floor. Dazed with pleasure, they barely registered as they were both sold to Charles as a matched pair, the grinning teen deciding the cost was worth the hit to his college fund. 
The two could only sigh in contentment as their new master locked them in a small cage together and loaded them into the trunk of his car for the trip to their new home.
“I’m so glad I came to the Slave Expo tonight,” Abby said.
“Me, too,” Sally said, thankful her curiosity had gotten the best of her at last. “Me, too.”