(Declan Brand)

Mary - Story of a Slave

Chapter 1




I screamed as the whip bit into my lower legs.

Whiz!  Smack!

I screamed again as the next lash smashed into my ass.  I tried to make it miss, moving as much as I could, but I was helpless, my arms locked above me, my feet just inches off the floor…

Whiz!  Smack!

I cried out my anguish, begging the whip holder to stop.  He didn’t—after all, this was what he wanted and I was at his mercy.

The lash hit me again and again.  I cried out, begged for mercy, I screamed…

And then it was over.  The man put the whip away and stepped to my side.

“Every girl starts with ten,” I felt him run a hand down my side.  Moaned when he touched the sore spots left by the lash.

“You’ll learn to obey me.” He said, stepping away.  “You will.”  He smiled and stepped to one side.

The windlass holding me up turned at his touch and I was slowly lowered to the floor.

“Stand up when your feet touch,” he told me.  “Do it or I will punish you again.”

I shivered at the thought of more punishment, and the moment my feet touched the ground I did everything I could to get my balance.

I barely succeeded.

“Good job, slave!” He smiled at me.  “Now…”

He stepped behind me and put a huge ball in my mouth.  It was so big it would have done damage to me if I did anything to stop it from entering.

I stood there and allowed him to gag me—there was nothing else I could do.

“Very good,” he smiled some more.  “Now,” he snapped a collar on me—one that had a leash attached.


He walked away, the leash in his hand.  I had to hurry to keep up.

We walked a fairly long way—perhaps a hundred feet, and came to an area that had been cleared, save for a plastic matte and a bucket.  He took a moment to clip the end of the leash to a snap at about eye-level, then turned to me.  “You have enough room to lie down,” he judged the distance.  “And there’s a bucket you can do your business in.” He pointed to it.  “Now lie down and be quiet for the night.  I’ll see you in the morning.”  He turned and started to walk away, then stopped and turned back toward me.  “By the way, your name from now on is DIMA, remember that.”

He was through the door and gone a moment later.




I spent the rest of the night where he put me.  Lying on the matte, I couldn’t help thinking about how I had gotten here.  I had left the school (yes, I’m a college student) late—my research in the library had taken longer than I expected.  I walked through the alley that connected the library to the rest of the school without problem and headed up the street.  My place was only two blocks away.

Halfway there, I noticed a man walking toward me.  He was older and leaning on a stick so I paid him little notice.

Big mistake—he came closer and before I could cry out, his stick was around my neck, pulling tight…

I fought back, kicking out, trying to scratch his eyes.

Nothing worked, and the hold was choking me. 

I finally lost consciousness.

I woke up here, in the—I guess it’s a basement, where the man has been busy turning me into his ‘slave’.

I’m not a slave.

I settled down, staring at the wall until, finally, sleep came.




The man was up early the next morning.  I know because he rousted me from my sleep before the sun was even up.

“Here,” he told me, setting down a bowl of some sort of chow.  “Eat this.”  He undid my gag, pocketed it.

Then he was gone.

I tried the chow.  It was almost tasteless, with the slightest hint of some kind of fish.  I found I was quite hungry and, before much time had passed, I had emptied the food dish.

I spent the next half-hour or so studying my leash.  It was held in a complicated clasp on the wall, just high enough that I couldn’t reach it.

I shook my head and sat down—there was little else I could do.

The ‘Master’ returned a little while ago.  He slipped a pair of handcuffs on me then took down the leash.  I didn’t fight him—maybe I should have.

We walked across the open area toward the spot where he’d whipped me and stopped a little past the hoist.

“We’re going to try something new.” He told me.

He quickly released the leash then, before I could say anything, took out a new gag.  This one was bigger than the other!  He slipped it into my mouth, just barely, and buckled it in the back and on the sides.  I bit into it but could not dislodge it.

He bent me over and replaced the leash with a line running down to an anchor of some kind in the floor.  Then he bound my feet to anchors on each side—the combination kept me bent over, my head at an angle to my body.  It was a helpless situation. 

I swallowed hard.

He then picked something from the wall and stood behind me.

“I’m going to teach you to obey me,” he said.  “We’ll start with a switching.”

I swallowed hard and braced myself—but it wasn’t enough…


Pain flowed through me—he had barely touched my rear end but it felt…


I tried to pull away, tried to move…


He kept hitting me.  My ass was on fire, and the fire was spreading across my bottom.  I tried to move away, tried…


I screamed as he hit me—as loud as I could.  Nobody seemed to hear…


Finally, it was over.  The ‘Master’ came over to check me out, running his hand across my red and painful ass.  He smiled at me.

Then he plunged his hand into my cunt.  I screamed again—but he ignored me, feeling around, touching me…

I started to cry, the enormity of the situation striking me. 

“Stop!” He yelled at me.  “No crying—you hear me—no crying!”

I looked at him, my body bent almost double, a rope holding me to the floor…

“You are a slave!  You will do what I say!” 

I started to cry again—I couldn’t help myself!

He growled an invective and turned away, leaving me as I was.

Time passed.  How much, I couldn’t say.  I just slumped there, held from sitting down or standing fully upright.  Finally, he re-entered the room and walked to my side.

“I’m going to try you out now,” he said.  “Don’t move.”

I didn’t know what he meant—but I soon found out.  He took a moment to walk behind me and drop his pants, then I felt him as he started to enter me.

I tightened myself, trying to keep him out—he slapped me, and thrust in harder—too hard for me to prevent.  I closed my eyes and endured it as he moved himself inside me, in and out.  In and out.

Finally, he was done and pulled himself back.

“Not bad,” he said.  “A little rough, but not bad.”  He moved to my side.  “I’ll have to even you out a little, smooth down those reflexes but…” He smiled.  “I think you’ll be just fine.”

I stared at the floor, the only thing I could do.  I felt the result of his act rolling down my leg and onto the floor.  I started to cry…

This time, he stepped forward and took my head in his hands, forcing me to look up.  His eyes stared into mine—black dots of evil. 

He smiled—and forced another of those gigantic balls into my mouth, securing it behind my head, then he spoke.

“You’ll get to enjoy it, I promise, all you have to do is let go—give yourself over to me.”

I closed my eyes and wept—but I didn’t even get the time to be sad.  The ‘Master’ stepped close and attached weights to my nipples, first one, then the other.

It hurt.

Then he picked a whip from the far wall and started beating me.  It went on and on and I screamed over and over into the ball gag.

Which did no good.  He finished giving me a set of stripes, then untied my ragged body from the floor and ceiling and took me back across the room, tying me to the divot in the ceiling once again.

Then he turned and left.



Chapter 2


The next day he left me alone.  I slept on and off, and ate the food he had put out for me.  I tried to get free but eventually gave it up as impossible.  I tried to think of what had gotten me into this.  I hadn’t played on any of the BDSM boards on the computer and I definitely hadn’t played any bondage games with my friends.

How had he found me?  What was his criteria?  I thought about that all day and into the evening without finding an answer.

He came to the basement late that night, but he didn’t do anything to me.  Just changed the food and water and smiled.

He watched me until, finally, I fell asleep from the strain of the day.




I woke up early.  I was alone, the man had returned to his own bedroom.  I took the opportunity to see how things were around me.

The leash that held me was still beyond my reach—which was, in turn, kinda unnecessary since my hands were bound behind me.

The room was clean, the matte that held me appeared to be ten feet square and was untouched by human excrement—I was pretty sure. 

The far side of the room was equipped with a hoist and holders sunk into the floor and on parts of the ceiling.  It was obvious that the whole room was equipped to handle a captive like me.

Again, I wondered how he had found me—there was nothing in my background to bring me to his attention.  He must have just taken me because I walked into his path.

That would make it harder for the authorities to track me.  In no way was I connected to the ‘Master’.  He was just a stranger who picked me up…

The fact that I couldn’t really remember that was just the result of the drug he used—had to be. 

I struggled to an upright position where I could see what was coming.

A few minutes later, I saw him—with a companion—enter through a door in the side wall.

“Here she is,” he said.  “Not much to look at now, I’ll admit, but when she’s properly trained, she’ll be something special.”

“I can see that.” The other man replied, stepping closer.  “How long have you had her?”

“Only three days.” He smiled.  “The cops just started to look for her today—not that they have much chance.”

“How much do you want for her?”

I became very alert then—he was going to sell me?  To that guy?  What…”

“No sale just yet,” he smiled at me.  “I want to train her some more—have some fun with her.’

“Yeah,” the other man said, smiling.  “I can see that.”  He half turned.  “Let me know if you decide to get rid of her, I can get you a good price.”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know—I might have something for you upstairs—already trained and quite docile.”

They walked toward the door. 

“Let’s see her,” the other man said.  “Maybe we can do business.”

The two of them disappeared through the door.

Time passed—how much I’m unable to say.  Eventually my ‘Master’ returned to the basement alone.  He studied me for a time, then he undid my leash and led me across the room.

“I’m going to take it easy on you because I can see you’re not used to this.” He said.  “I’ll only give you ten lashes today.”  He took me under to hooks, caught the leash in one.  “Of course, I’ll have to make you uncomfortable first.”  He pulled the leash tight. 

“Now, let’s see…”

He walked to the far wall and seemed to be studying things there.  I couldn’t really see him as he was behind me, but I heard him moving things around.

Finally, he returned.

“Your breasts are quite beautiful.”  He stepped forward.  “So this should hurt.”

With that, he touched my right breast, stroking until the nipple, despite anything I did, became rigid—then he attached some kind of spring loaded device there.

“Now I’ll add a little weight…” 

A wire chain with a five pound weight was in his hand, then on the device on my nipple.  He looked at me for an instant, then, smiling, he released it.

It did hurt—a lot.  I thought my nipple would be pulled from my body.  I looked down, unable to scream because of the gag in my mouth.

And then he turned to the other breast.

I tried to pull away, tried to stop him.

It did no good.  When he finished, I was dangling two weights from my nipples.

“Let’s leave those there for a while,” he said looking at me.  “Shall I attach one to your cunt?”

I shook my head hard, pleading with my eyes.

“All right,” he stepped back.  “We’ll leave it like this for now.”  He moved to the leash and did something I could not see but I was pulled forward and down a bit.  A moment later he finished the tie by securing my head to the floor.

I was helpless.

“Now,” he said, picking up a long piece of wood.  “Let’s put down ten strokes, shall we?”  He smiled.  “I think the ass is the place for these.”

He set himself—then thought better of it.

“Wait a moment,” he stepped up beside me and undid the buckle holding my gag in place.  “Now…”  He removed the gag. 

Drool came pouring out of my mouth—I tried to stop it but…

“I want you to count.” He looked at me.  “Do you understand—count!”

I looked at him, thunderstruck.

“You’d better get ready.”  He moved back a bit.  “I won’t count the stroke unless you count it for me.”  He picked up the long stick.


It struck my ass, hurting like hellfire.  I screamed.

“You’re not counting!” 


This one hurt more than the first one.  I hung there, bent over, my breasts and nipples aching.

“You’re still not counting!” He roared.


The hurt was averaging out—my whole body ached—but I had to do something.  What…


Oh, yeah, I had to count the strokes…


The pain was intense, but I had to count.  How many was it?  “Four,” I yelled.  “Four!”

“Wrong!”  He shook his head.  “That was one—say it!”


“Good.” WHIP!



The rest of the whipping was a terrible thing.  He hit me and I responded with a number.  I kept it up right until the end, then hung onto consciousness as hard as I could. 

The ‘Master’ gave me no rest.  He came out and wrapped ropes around my breasts, constricting them and causing them to hang out.

I didn’t care anymore, the rigors of the day caught up to me and I passed out while he was working on me.




When I woke up, I slowly became aware of my predicament.  I was still gagged—unable to yell or scream for help.  Ropes had been tied around my breasts which were turning an ugly purplish color.  I was standing under the hooks in the ceiling, one of which was holding the rope of my leash.

My legs were spread a bit and secured to the floor with more ropes.

I was quite helpless.

The man who called himself my ‘Master’ was standing a few feet away, admiring his handiwork.  He started toward me.

“I see you’re awake.” He purred.  “That’s good—don’t have to use any water.” He looked down.  “The floor soaks it up but it takes forever to dry out properly.”

He reached my side.

“Your breasts have reacted well—I wasn’t sure they were big enough but I see they are.” 

He ran a hand down one of my breasts—it hurt, but the hurt seemed to come from far away.

“Now we’ll try a little experiment.” He smiled and stepped forward, a short wooden peg of some kind in his hand.  “First, with the ropes on…”

The little rod zipped out, barely touching one of my nipples…

It felt as if he hit me with an atomic bomb!  The hurt radiated through my chest until he hit me again—and again—and again.

I passed out, the pain too great for me to bear.

He must have been waiting for something like that.  A bath of very cold water brought me back to consciousness.  I stood there shivering for a second…

Then he began hitting me again.  Targeting my aching nipples, making my chest hurt more and more.

After a time, I passed out again.  This time, he left me alone.




I woke up several hours later.  My breasts had been untied, the weights removed.  The gag was gone and I was lying with my hands still behind me in one corner of the basement.  My leash had returned and was holding me to the wall in the usual way.

The whipping of my breasts had really hurt.  I looked at my nipples.  They looked okay if a but worn.

I laid back, using the wall to half-hold me up and thought as hard as I could.  I knew he could do this to me every day—in fact, he would do it to me until I agreed to be his slave.

Did I want to be a slave?  I had been two years away from a degree at the school—and had a huge student debt to repay.  I wouldn’t have to worry about that if I became his slave.

I had to think about that.

I fell asleep still thinking—and awoke to a new day—and a new problem.

“Feeling better, slave?”  The ‘Master’ strode up to me looking quite dapper in his khaki outfit.  “I have a little problem for you to solve.”  He took a loop of rope from the far wall.  “I just need a minute to string this…”

He ran the rope from one corner of the basement to the other—sixty feet or so, then he came for me.

“Come on,” he said, taking my leash.  “It’s time you learned how to be a proper slave.”  He led me to the rope.  “Climb on.”  He waited while I did as he asked.  “Now,” he came closer, inspected to make sure the rope was securely in my cunt.  “Walk!”  He snapped a little whip.  “Right now!”

I began to do as he asked—and found how painful it truly was.  I hesitated.


The little whip caught me on the shoulders.

“I said WALK!” The ‘Master’ thundered.

I began to shuffle forward, the rope hurting constantly as it rubbed against my insides.  Twenty feet I went, thirty, fifty…

I was breathing hard by the time I reached the far end, and hurting from a number of thumps from that damned little whip.

“Good,” the ‘Master’ told me.  “Now turn around and go back!”

I walked up and down that damned rope for two hours.  By the time I was done, my insides felt like they’d been filed down and my exterior felt like it had been beaten by six men.  My ‘Master’ fastened the leash to the ceiling again and left.

I fell asleep almost immediately.