INTRODUCTION

 

The plain gray van drove for almost two hours to reach home base from the training center. It had to pass through several checkpoints along the way in the militarized state known as the Northern Alliance. The fact that the man sitting in the passenger seat was General Patton Barkley, the supreme leader of the country's military, they were immediately waved through every one of them. His daughter, Tasha, was driving them, but it was what they carried in the windowless van's cargo section that mattered. In this land, where slavery was legal, the General had just purchased four state-trained females for his family.

He was taking them to his private compound now and kept them in the back of the vehicle because he did not want his personal business made public. Patton was facing a dilemma regarding his adult children, more specifically his sons. Shane, his oldest at twenty-four, had an aggression problem. He failed his psych eval for military duty, so that made him even more frustrated. Then there was Patton Jr., who had a bright future until the head injury left him a bit slow. Now he just followed his older brother like a puppy from one problem to the next. The General's plan hinged on the slaves he was giving them to have a soothing effect, to give them a place to vent their frustration and release that pent up sexual energy all young men contended with.

Then there was Tasha, his eighteen-year-old daughter, currently driving him as they brought their new possessions home. She was named Natasha, after her mom who died four years ago from an aneurysm. After her death her fourteen-year-old namesake decided hearing her mom's name was too hard, so she adopted Tasha as her new one. But going through puberty in her father's military based masculine home had turned her from the little girl her mother doted on to a tomboy vying for her dad's attention along with her brothers. What disturbed him was that she liked girls as much as his sons did. When Tasha was told that the General was buying slaves, she requested a female for herself. If she were anyone other than his daughter he would have been appalled, but he could never find fault or deny Tasha anything she wanted. And it was that request which made this particular group perfect for his needs.

Then, of course, there was the General himself. After four years mourning his wife's passing he saw the picture of Marla Hopkins, the mother of the three younger slaves in the back of his van. She looked so much like his dead wife that it seemed like it was kismet, especially since Natasha was also his willing sex slave for their entire relationship. Now he had her doppelganger in the back of the van and wondered what it would be like taking her to the playroom that had been locked up for over four years now. As the van pulled onto his property and then into his private garage, he knew it was time to take this next step toward his family's future.

CHAPTER 1

 

"Daddy you promised!" Tasha cried out after she asked about getting the first choice of the slaves again. She only called him 'Daddy' when they were alone, using that term to try and play him.

"I said not right now," he repeated, "Once I get them situated and evaluate them myself, we will discuss who gets who. But consider this Tasha, it has always been my intention for us to share ownership of all of them. And it might be better to get to know these slaves before deciding which one you really want to call your own. Now go find your brothers and meet me in my basement office in half an hour," Patton said. She left in a huff and he wondered why he was so much easier on her than his boys. He went to the back of the van and opened the twin doors.

Marla watched her new Master unchaining their hobbles from the floor; he was very tall, at least six-foot-four. She could tell from his manner that he was very disciplined with himself and also with others, given the way he handled himself so far. Her trainer Seth, himself a very strong willed man, deferred to the General in a way she never saw while they were under his control. Belonging to this man intrigued her since she always responded to Seth's dominance so well, she hoped the General was as dominant when handling her as Seth had been.

"Out you go recruits!" The General barked.

His commanding voice had all four shuffling out of the van and into a line standing behind it. He closed the doors and turned to face them, rather surprised that none looked scared, they looked poised and relaxed instead. He knew the mark of good training and could see it in these sluts, but like Seth he did not want them getting too comfortable.

Facing them at full attention, the General snapped, "So you think you are well-trained slave girls, do you? Well, you have not even started my boot camp yet, so remember you all start fresh here. To begin you will show me what you have learned so far and I will decide if it is enough or if you need further training. I have high expectations for all of you considering what I paid, and I always get my money's worth. Now turn right and place your left hand on the shoulder of the slut in front of you." Once they had turned into that position he stepped in front of Marla, the only one without someone in front of her.

He grabbed the leash that was still attached to her collar; all of the slaves were still wearing them from when they were taken from the training center. They also wore wrist and ankle cuffs, the latter attached to the heels of the black four-inch pumps on their feet. Their wrist cuffs were locked together behind their backs. Other than that, they were naked and freshly shaven from their necks to their ankles. Marla was the tallest; the way the General liked them considering his own imposing physique.

"Stay in step with each other slaves, I expect my recruits to move in a precise and orderly manner. We will now proceed to the training room, I am sure you will feel right at home once we get there," he said, while leading his new slaves to a door at the rear of the garage. It took them down a long staircase and into the basement of the house.

He led his cabal of slaves into what looked like a large family room with a bar and pool table. The General took them through the room with all four slaves feeling a hint of loss seeing the trappings of normal life. Since being taken from their old lives they had seen nothing but cells and training rooms, so this kind of room triggered fading memories of their lives before slavery. At the back of the room there were two doors, one being a bathroom with the door left open revealing it had a sink, toilet, and shower. The other was closed and locked, but the General pulled a key from his pocket and opened it.

He ushered them into the room, releasing his grip on Marla's leash, as he pointed her toward the front of his desk in the middle of his study. They formed a line facing the large ornate desk and watched as the General took a seat in his large tufted leather chair behind it, facing his naked slaves. He opened the briefcase he had been carrying and dropped a thick file on the desk.

While patting the top of the folder with his hand, he said, "This tells me all I need to know about you four. What you need to know is that I will be referred to as 'General' or 'Sir' for now. You have also met my daughter, who you will call Madam. Then there are my sons, Shane and Patton, who you will also refer to as Sir until further notice."

"Your duties here will grow over time, but to start we will test your current training to see how thorough it is. For now you all belong to me, but you will be shared among all of us regularly. Eventually I will pair each of you with one primary owner, but you will always be subservient to all of us. My children have no experience handling sex slaves, but I do, and when I am sure they can take your reins I will give you to them. For now you will follow my lead, are there any questions?" he finally asked them.

Surprisingly they all responded in unison, "No Sir!"

"Good, then let us begin," he said.

They did not notice him depress a floor switch under his desk, but did see the bookcase behind his desk slide sideways to reveal another descending staircase behind it. He stood up and grabbed Marla's leash from across the desk before saying, "Turn and march to me slaves."

While holding Marla's leash high enough to keep it above the desk, the General watched his new slaves pivot and march around it just like they had from the van to here. When Marla reached where he stood he began to descend the steps with all of his slaves in tow. He was impressed by their behavior so far; apparently they had at least learned the importance of strict obedience to their new owner. He believed that would help expedite the training he had planned for them. If only his own brood was so disciplined, but that was the point of this, to teach his family some self control.

Marla counted fifteen steps down into the first basement and then thirty more to the next level, feeling a bit like the day they first descended to the depths of Seth's training facility. But this time she knew what she was facing. Though she was sure it would be hard and taxing, she also noticed that her cunt tingled whenever her new owner spoke. Her girls were equally compelled, all of them thoroughly trained to respond to commanding figures. The General was certainly that, but the girls also wondered about his children, believing their mother would become the General's primary slave. But for now they at least knew they answered to him.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs they were shocked by the size of the room they were in, it was forty feet wide and over sixty long. It was so deep they could not see the far end with only half the room lit. What they could see was a wide array of equipment, much like at their last residence, all designed to hold slaves so their owners could toy with them. What no one but the General knew was that this was where he and his lost Natasha practiced their form of affection. Though he had added more equipment over the last few months to accommodate his new slaves, there were still plenty of well-used pieces he remembered fondly.

This entire space, along with smaller rooms along the perimeter was built as his secure bunker. The roof was fifteen feet below the ground with six feet of steel reinforced concrete keeping the room safe from detection. But it also offered a very discrete space where those inside it were the only ones who could hear the howls of slaves, both passionate and pained. The General planned on keeping them up in the house in the long run, but he wanted to test their abilities and devotion to him down here in the beginning.

He led them to a set of four wooden frames standing in a line next to each other. They were all four feet wide and eight tall, more than large enough to secure a slave in a standing spread eagle within it. In just a few minutes he had locked all the slaves' ankle and wrist cuffs to the eyebolts mounted to each corner inside the frames. With his slaves securely bound the General paced around them, taking some time to stop and inspect each of their bodies. The young sluts had lithe and supple physiques, while Marla, though fifteen pounds lighter than before her enslavement was in a more voluptuous packaging. He liked them both ways.

He suspected that his sons, like Tasha, would not see the resemblance that Marla had to their mother. Mainly because Natasha was blonde and Marla was a brunette, but as he stared into her eyes he saw the same spark of devout submission that burned in his lost slave's eyes. He wondered if it was real or manufactured, not that he thought it mattered. He expected she would soon learn who controlled her now. If she was half the slave Natasha was, he would be a very happy man, and her training file showed she held that kind of promise.

Looking right into Marla's eyes he asked, "What is the rule regarding speaking amongst slaves?"

"Sir, it is not permitted Sir!" she answered; using the technique Seth taught her to address her owner.

"You may lose the opening Sir, it will suffice to end each answer that way. I will leave you for a little while before I return with my offspring. Just one more question, these sluts bound next to you, who are they to you?"

"S...we are all simply slaves who belong to you Sir," Marla answered, and it was the truth. The training at the facility had shattered the familial ties that used to bind them together turning them into rivals along the way. Having punished each other brutally as a result of attempting to help each other proved to them that any compassion for another carried too heavy a cost. It was not a price worth paying.

He reached down and cupped her sex, making Marla gasp when his fingers found her wet gash. "You want me to use you, don't you bitch?" Patton asked her, his grip tightening on her crotch.

"Yes Sir!" she chirped, holding back the sudden urge to climax on his hand.

"I understand you and your slutty girls all squirt when you climax, I have seen it and it fascinates me. Show me how you come slut," he said, now squeezing his hand tight with his fingers hooked into her sex.

"Yes Sir! Thank you Sir!" she cried out, all while soaking his hand with her abundant juices.

"Remarkable cunt," he said before pulling his fingers from her snatch and making Marla lick them clean. Liking how that demo went, he moved over to Bette next and did the same thing, the eldest sibling responding just like her mother. He was not generous, allowing them each a rather minor orgasm, which was not at all what they were used to experiencing. It did have two purposes for him though; the first was just to show him the peculiar talent each slave possessed. The second was that it got them stimulated, fully geared up to deal with what he had planned once everyone was here.

When he finished having Tessa lick her come off his fingers the General moved in front of them again. He saw they were all glistening from the sweat of arousal, and the way they were spread open within the frames enhanced the visual effect. He admired his handiwork, though minor in the grand scheme of things, the dramatic way he planned to introduce his family to the art of slave training was designed to get their attention, not any easy task. But four naked, bound, and very aroused women should do the trick, he thought.

He assumed the stance of a commander speaking to his troops before saying, "You will remain silent and contemplate what price you will pay for having such nice climaxes without yet earning them. I will leave you now to collect my daughter and sons, when I return you will show them how well you all can handle a punishment. It will be the start of your training with me, and when you each prove your dedication and obedience to us, you will earn the right to live with us in the main house. Now think about that and wait quietly for my return."

When he left all the lights in the room went dark, except for four spotlights right above each of them. They were not only bright, but also hot, keeping the slaves stewing in both physical and mental heat. Though it was the first time they were ever left alone and not gagged, none of them dared to speak, too well trained to even consider disobeying an order from their new owner. They all had also realized that their new home was going to be just as strict and challenging as the last, and thanks to the prior training they received, it aroused them even more.