I looked behind me at the table of toys and my wetness grew in my panties. The door opened, I turned my head sharply to see him as he entered, dresse... all in black and his top clinging to him to show off his impressive arms. A smirk touched his lips for a second and then vanished. “Naughty girl. You are not prepared for me. This is going to take a little while.” My heart pounded in my chest with excitement. He closed the door and walked towards me, as his green eyes burning on my body. His. While some of this performance was an act, some of it was real - I did want to be taken and dominated, not just because that would improve my standing among the slaves, but also because that was the sole relevant measure of my value. In school my value had been set by grades, friends, and boyfriends; here my value was set by my ability to please men, and I deeply, psychologically wanted to be valued. I welcomed the taste of a master in my mouth, or the feeling of him in my body, as a valid sign. More

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