When I was younger I remember reading history and not quite getting what was so bad about being a slave. Not having slaves, mind, but being one didn’t seem like it was too terrible. I realized as I got older that it was more complicated than just serving someone else, and the public part of me felt guilty about this, while the private part of me still got warm and excited by the idea of having no control over my own life anymore.

So I guess it shouldn’t come as a surprise how quickly I was roped into a life where I had no control.
Here’s how it happened.

About a month after graduating high school, I had started making a habit of hitchhiking. I never went far, and I always came back home, but it became a kind of a hobby. I liked the thrill of getting into a car with a stranger, of having conversations with random people, and seeing where they took me. In that month, I never encountered anyone that had any ill intentions for me. The furthest I ever went was less than a hundred miles from where I started, and the most unpleasant experience I ever had was with a fellow who didn’t say a word as he drove, and took me a bit further than he said he would. I lived in a relatively mild area, so it didn’t come as too much of a surprise. But then I met James.

James was a long haul truck driver. He lived 90% of his time in his truck’s cabin and the other 10% at rest stops. He was probably in his late 40’s and had a gruff, attractive, sun baked exterior. When he first stopped for me, he was sweeter than pie. He had a light southern drawl and the habit of calling girls “sweetheart” – including me, at least at first. When I first got in his truck, I commented on how it was the first time I had ever ridden in a semi before. He laughed and told me it was likely because most truckers he knew wouldn’t stop for hitchers. It was too dangerous, and they could lose their jobs over it. He told me there was just something sweet about me and he knew giving me a lift would be just fine. It didn’t take long for him to glean that the reason that I really liked hitching had nothing to do with the conversations or travelling, but the fact that I was putting myself in a position where I didn’t have control. That I didn’t truly know where I was going to end up when I got into the passenger side of a stranger’s vehicle. It was true, and being told that at point blank made me sweat a little, made my heart race, made my cheeks flush.

That first night, when James pulled over at a rest stop and showed me his cabin, he asked me to take off my shirt.

My cheeks flushed deeply. This was the first time any of my rides had asked me for anything beyond a cigarette. But my heart pounded, and I felt my loins warm. Biting my lip, I slowly pulled my shirt over my head while he sat on the edge of his cot.

He reached out, and without asking, pulled first my right, then my left tit from my bra, leaving the bra on but with my chest completely exposed. My heart was pounding even harder, my nipples rock hard, completely turned on. Gently, he slapped one of my tits, looking at my face and gauging my reaction.

“Do you like that?”

I nodded, knowing how red my cheeks must be. He pinched my nipples with both of his hands gently, then much harder. Then he raised one hand and slapped my tit harder than he had before.

“Get on your knees.”

I obeyed immediately. Almost too quickly. He chuckled at the speed at which I knelt, and unzipped his fly. My heart felt like it was going to beat its way out of my chest. The warm feeling radiated throughout my entire body. I felt, in turns, like a whore, and completely at peace. I felt that this was right – whatever this was, whatever was happening. He pulled his cock out of his pants, and started stroking it. He laced one hand’s fingers through my hair and pulled my face down towards it, laying his cockhead on my cheek while he stroked.

“You know what I think?” he asked. I barely squeaked a response. “I think you’re looking to be an owned slut. Does that sound right to you?” I shivered, staring at his groin, at his cock growing harder against my face, at his pubic hair that I knew I was about to be getting very closely accommodated with, and with my red hot cheeks flaring, I nodded. “Is that what you are? Just a slut?” I nodded again. “Just a worthless slut?” Nod. “Look at me.”

I looked up at him just in time to get a full handed slap against the cheek. I yelped, immediately putting a hand against the slapped cheek.
“Put your fucking hand down, slut. Worthless sluts don’t get a say, you understand? Worthless whores like you don’t get to complain. Worthless whores like you take what they are given and are thankful. Do you understand?”
I nodded, putting my hand down and feeling the sting radiate through my cheek. Still, my pounding heart would not relent. I felt my blood pumping through my system as if I was a new person. Here I was being told something that made sense to me. I wasn’t what I had been told I was my entire life.. I was a worthless slut. I would take what was given to me. I would not complain.

James nodded, taking his other hand and slapping my other cheek harder than the first. I kept my hands at my sides.

“Good slut. Open your fucking mouth.” I obeyed, opening my mouth as James slid his cock in, one hand firmly gripping my hair and pushing my head down. I felt his cock slide into my throat, choking and gagging me, but he was relentless. For the first time ever, I had my throat fucked. I’d given blowjobs before, but this was different. This was a man using my face like it was a pussy – banging into my throat at his heart’s content, and not thinking of the fact that I needed to breathe out of that face. He would let me up for air once in a while, but for the vast majority of it, his hand simply banged my head up and down on his cock, choking and gagging me. By ehe end, my lips were tingling and my throat was raw. Tears streamed down my face and drool littered my tits. When he came, he took both hands and held my head down on his pulsing cock as he unloaded deep in my throat. While I gagged, I could still feel his cum sliding down my throat in waves. I nearly came myself. He kept my head down to a count of ten after he blew his load, and instinctively, I sucked at his cock as he pulled my head off. While I gasped for air, he let his hands untangle from my hair and sighed contentedly.

“You’ll sleep on the floor, whore. Go wash your fucking face, then get some sleep. I have plans for you.”

. . .

The next day, James woke me up with my new name.
“Get up, fuckmeat.” I heard him say. I rose slowly, a crick in my neck from laying on the awkward floor. “I said get the fuck up. I need to piss. Get your mouth over here.”
I swallowed. Did I hear him correctly? But I didn’t ask questions. I climbed into his cot with him. He pushed me down to his cock again and instructed me to hold the tip of his cock in my mouth.
“Don’t you dare fucking spill. You’ll take this and you’ll fucking drink. If you think you’re going to yak, you raise your hand or so help me, I will slap you silly. Do not get my sheets dirty, cunt.”
Obediently, I lowered my mouth to his limp cock, putting my lips around the head and suctioning slightly so nothing would drip. He let his piss flow almost immediately. Without warning, his hot urine filled my mouth and I was forced to swallow before I started to overflow. the taste was acrid but mild. Unpleasant, but not nauseating. The act itself even turned me on, and I was beginning to realize how much my whole life I had been holding back now that I realized that I was actually enjoying the act of drinking a man’s piss just so that he wouldn’t have to get up in the morning. After three full mouthfuls, he was done. He instructed me to lick his cock from base to tip to make sure no piss was missed, and I obeyed. He regarded me afterward with a fierce sternness. “You’ll do that every morning, cunt.” I nodded.

Before he got back on the road, he had me stand. With scissors, he cut my clothes off piece by piece. First my shirt came off in four pieces. One cut down the front, one down the back, and two along the sides of my chest. Then my bra was snipped between the cups, rendering it useless. My pants were cut down the sides of each leg and from crotch to ass crack. My panties were last, and he cut them once from my navel to my ass. Before taking them off, he had me stand with my legs spread, my cunt peeking through the cut, while he pleasured himself. After his cock was hard, he pulled me over to it and slid into me with the tattered remains of my panties still on me. He went in without a condom, which I noticed briefly but didn’t mention.

He fucked me doggy style, pulling my hair into a ponytail as he did. He commented on how wet I was already, and I didn’t mention that the ritual of cutting my clothes off had nearly given me an orgasm. After he came inside me, he pulled off my panty pieces. He threw all of my clothes into a corner. He had me turn around, and with a zip tie, he fastened my hands behind my back. from a drawer, he fished out a large white tee shirt, pulled it over my head for me, and told me what my assignment for that day was.

Assignments were going to be a big part of my life. I didn’t know it at that moment, but this was the first of many. Every day I had to do something, and if I didn’t succeed to his expectations, I was punished handsomely.

Today, I was to choke on his cock.

That may not sound like a big deal, given the night before, but this was different. He had to drive, so I was to kneel between his legs while he drove without being too in the way, at the same time as I was pleasuring him. This meant kneeling in a very awkward way between his legs and sucking on his cock for hours on end. By the end of the day, my lips were sore, my cheeks exhausted. I had no idea where we were headed or how far we went, as the only thing I saw for the next 5 hours was his pubes, and his cock. He didn’t speak much, and he only came twice in that entire time. The rest of the time it was mostly me attempting to choke myself on his cock, at his instruction. He made a game of it. For 30 seconds, I was to push my head down as far as I could, and hold it there. I was to count internally to 30 – if he thought I didn’t count long enough, he would abruptly grab the back of my head and push me down without letting me up for air. That meant if I counted to 30 but he thought I was one second shy, I would have to go back down for another 30 seconds straight without getting air. I started hedging my bets and counting very slowly, so that every 30-45 actual seconds, I would be able to get air. His seat was a mess by the time we took a break. It was completely wet from my drool and even though it was completely unavoidable, he still slapped my tits as hard as he could as punishment. My nipples were bright red, on fire. I gasped for air while he did it, my cunt raging with pleasure. While he took a short break, he layed me face down on his cot in the back. My arms were starting to bother me from being behind my back this entire time, but I didn’t complain. I knew this was something that would come with the territory that I had stepped into, and I feared that if I was too much of a frustration, that he would just drop me on the side of the road.

When James came back, he had a plastic Petco bag. Curious, I watched him get in the cabin and shut the door behind him, drop the bag on the bed next to me, and start fishing things out of it. First was a black leather collar. Then he pulled out a silver metal tag shaped like a dog bone. He held it out to me so that I could see – the word “slut” was engraved on it. I smiled.
“You like that huh? Yeah, they looked at me pretty funny when they saw that.”
He attached the tag to the collar and cinched it around my neck so that it was slightly too tight and uncomfortable.
“I want you to be able to feel that all the time, cunt. It’s a reminder of what you are, so you don’t forget it. You will not take it off.” My heart pounded again, feeling the collar around my neck was, in an odd way, liberating. I was liberated from having to make decisions anymore. I knew what my place was, and it was simple and easy and natural. I was a worthless slut, and I was going to be cared for.
Before going back on the road, James slid into my cunt again, this time while he was fucking me he clipped a leash onto my new collar and pulled on it roughly while he pounded into me, choking me. He wrapped his hand in the leash as he came, pulling hard on my collar, and my cunt exploded as I came harder than I ever had before in my life, my pussy grabbing on to his cock over and over, wave after wave clenching his shaft. If I could have breathed I would have been moaning so loudly, but my collar choked off all noise as I writhed beneath him.

After, he unclipped the leash as I gasped for breath and he pulled out from inside me. He ordered me to clean his cock and I obeyed. For the rest of the evening I was given a “treat” by way of a rest. He allowed me to nap on the cot until we got to the rest station that night.

. . .

When I woke, James was not in the truck.
I wiggled into a sitting position, my arms still tied behind me and the shirt allowing minimal coverage. It was dark, and we were parked at a rest area. Through the windshield I could see James talking to two other men by another truck. They were smoking cigarettes and having an animated conversation with lots of laughter. It was odd to me, that after being with this man for just over a day, how fond I was of him. I watched him shake one of the man’s hands and gesture towards the truck, and the three of them began making their way over. Immediately my heart started pounding again. James opened up the side door and ushered the two men in, and they squeezed into the back, both ogling me as they sat down on the cot next to me. James got in and shut the door, sitting in the front passenger seat. He turned to look at me raising his eyebrows significantly, as if to say “you’d better not fuck up.”

“Well fuck me,” the first man said in awe, pulling me up to a sitting position. He was a heavier set man who looked like he was in his 50’s. He had a pot belly but strong arms, and a beard that was black with silver patches. The other man was thin, probably in his 30’s, and had a large nose and acne. The larger man pulled the white shirt over my head and whistled as my naked body was revealed.
“So how the fuck did you get this bitch to come to you?” He asked James.
“Nevermind that,” James said, “you want to fuck her or what?”
“Hell yeah I want to fuck her. How much?”
My heart pounded. Only my second day with him, and he’s whoring me out already!
“Thirty for her cunt, fifty for her ass.”
“What about a BJ?”
James thought for a second. “Depends. Just a regular, run of the mill blowjob? Ten bucks. Deepthroat, thirty,”
“Thirty fuckin’ bucks? You kidding me?”
“She’s worth it, trust me.”
Potbelly looked me over, reached up and squeezed one of my tits roughly, shook his head. “Fuck. Fine. I want her throat.”
Skinny, who had been unashamedly staring at my ass and thighs the whole time, didn’t surprise me with his order, but hearing it set fire a tiny crackle of panic in my belly. “I want her ass.”
I’d never done anal before, and my eyes flickered to James, who was staring at my face. He nodded.
“Pay up then, assholes.”
Skinny and Potbelly fished out their cash and handed it to James, who slid it into his pocket. He looked at me and grabbed my face in his hand roughly. “You’ll do this and you won’t fucking complain, you got it?” I nodded, my heart pounding. I could hear the distinct sound of two zippers being undone. James lowered the cab lights and pulled curtains up in the windows, then sat in the front seat and pulled out a book.

Potbelly grabbed my head and pushed my face roughly down into his open fly. I could smell his sweat as he pulled his cock out and started slapping it on my face. Behind me, I felt Skinny pull my knees up on to the cot and slap my ass cheek. He put both hands on my cheeks and pushed them apart, then moaned. Potbelly’s cock, now hard, forced its way into my mouth and down my throat roughly. He groaned as he pushed my head down and held it there, and I choked and gagged on his cock, tasting the sweat invade my mouth and push down my throat. He slapped my face while I choked, making gagging and sputtering noises. At this point, I could feel Skinny’s cockhead pushing gently at my asshole. I was surprised that he was being gentle, given how rough Potbelly was being. I had still not been let up for air when I felt Skinny start pushing his cock into my ass. He moaned deep and long as his cockhead made an audible popping sound as it pushed into my hole. I tried to cry out but I only hummed against Potbelly’s cock, eliciting another groan from him, and his hips started bucking. My ass was already on fire, and only Skinny’s cockhead was in there!

I knew I was in for pain when I felt Skinny’s hands. One one each ass cheek, and they suddenly gripped me hard, his fingernails biting into my skin. Without any more warning, he bucked his hips hard against mine and his cock tore its way into my asshole. I screamed – or tried to – my eyes wild, looking around as my asshole flared up in pain. Skinny’s hands, finding purchase on my ass, gripped hard while he started pushing in and out wildly, grunting and moaning while he fucked my hole. Still unable to breathe, I struggled to pull my head up, only to be met with another hard slap against the face.
“Fuck no, bitch. I paid good for this,” Potbelly said, and he moved his hands from the back of my head to wrapping around my neck. He squeezed firmly, pushing and pulling my head up and down slightly, fucking my face with his cock. He never moved my head enough to let me a breath of air, and after seconds tears were streaming down my face from pain and from choking. A sudden wave of nausea washed over me and before I knew it, I was puking against Potbelly’s cock, the contents of my stomach unloading on his balls in one spurt. He laughed, holding my head down and choking me harder, whispering intently “yes, bitch. Fuck, bitch” over and over. My eyes searched for James, who was sitting in the front with a small smile on his face as he read. He made no move to stop anything. Soon, I was having trouble seeing. The pain in my ass did nothing to help keep me awake and I passed out for a moment. Potbelly, noticing my state, pulled me off his cock and slapped my face to wake me while Skinny continued to ravage my ass. When I came to, I gasped for air and let out a weak and sore whimper, to which Potbelly commented that I was worth every dollar, and promptly began fucking my face again. Once Potbelly came in my throat, he ordered me to clean his cock, which I obediently did. Finally thinking I was going to have a reprieve, I began breathing normally again.

“Sheathe his cock with your throat, slut. And stay there until he’s done in your ass.” James ordered. I looked up. He had put down his book and was watching me intently. Obediently, I opened my mouth and pulled Potbelly’s cock back in it. He was going limp by this point, but I was sure this was a lesson in humility for me more than anything. I kept his cock in my mouth, feeling it twitch against my tongue in its after-orgasm motions, and concentrated on how raw my ass was becoming. Skinny went on for another 10 minutes, relentlessly pumping in my ass over and over until he finally took a shuddering breath, bared down into my hole until I thought I would tear, and groaned bestially. I could feel his cum shooting into my ass in waves, splashing against my insides. After he was done, he pulled out, and James instructed me to clean him with my mouth. I could taste his cum and my ass on him while I licked him clean. The two men then composed themselves, expressed interest in using me again another night, and left.

For a while, James just sat on the cot next to me and stared at me. Then, slowly, he began to touch me. He started at my shoulders, rubbing them in a surprisingly gentle way, easing the knots from my arms. As he moved down to my elbows and my hands, he cut my bonds but held my hands together.
“Let them apart slowly.” he instructed, and I obeyed, letting my arms fall slowly to my sides as he rubbed and massaged the ache from them. He worked from my neck, down my back, to the base of my spine above my ass, rubbing and kneading like a professional, urging my muscles to relax. He spread my legs gently and layed me on my back, massaging from hip to foot on each leg. Once he was done, I felt like I was going to sink into the bed. I stared up at him – surprised, aroused, impressed.

“When you are an obedient cunt, I take care of you.” he offered in explanation. “You deserve to be used and abused like the whore you are, but I am not an animal.” He smiled, reaching down between my legs and pushing two fingers into my cunt. “I expect you to obey complicity. I expect you to always do your best to please me, and any man I tell you to. When you do that, you will be rewarded.” I nodded, feeling his fingers pushing into my cunt, exploring. He expertly slid them in and out, pushing up in just the right place, and after a few short minutes I was orgasming. He held one hand on my stomach while the other masturbated me, milking my orgasm. I grabbed the sheets of his cot as my body writhed, gasping for air as I spent myself on his hand. I looked up at him.

“Tomorrow you will have a new assignment,” he told me. “You might not like it, but you’ll obey me.” I nodded. That night, he allowed me to sleep at the bottom of the cot, curled up, naked except for my collar, like a cat at her Master’s feet.