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“Sit,” he commanded with a forceful tone pointing to the chair in the center of the room.

She did as he ordered. It was a straight back chair that made her sit up straight. There were no arms to the chair, which confused her for a minute as what to do with her hands. He glared at her and signaled two fingers on his right hand. She immediately put her hands behind the chair as if they were bound and crossed her legs. The short dress exposed her left stocking covered thigh and garter belt that was standard for whenever they were together. The approval in his eyes helped her confidence as she stared at the table ahead. There were four empty chairs, which made her breathing shallow and fearful of what was to come. She looked over at him and found her heart pounding. Nothing had happened and she was already terrified and very aroused by the whole scene.

The door opened. Three men and one woman sat down. Each opened the folders before them and began reading. She sat and listened to each page turn. It took forever before one of them said, “Are we done?”

“Yes,” said one of the men. “This slut looks to have the potential of being a good slave.”

“Slut indeed,” chimed the woman. “She certainly has plenty of sex experience, but not much in being a slave. She seems more like a submissive.”

“Astrid,” said another man “You always say that about the women.”

“Well let’s get started with this slut,” declared the man in the center.

“Stand up, girl,” commanded her man.

She did as ordered. The people at the table stare. Their eyes wander up and down her body. Her eyes locked with her man. He was so sexy and beautiful. Almost a God, she thought.

“You can leave,” Astrid told her man. “Say good bye, slut. You are unlikely to see him for some time.”

Before she could say anything, he left through the door.

“Now slut, take off your dress,” ordered one of the men.

“Never one for subtle build up, John,” remarked one of the men.

“I want to collar her first. You know Judith needs a slave for the house.”

Pulling the dress over her head, the slut as she was now known did as she was commanded. She stood in her black garter belt, stockings, bra, and lace panties. They all drunk her in and were intoxicated by what they saw.

“Very pretty,” said John. “Turn around.”

The slut did as he ordered.

“What a flat ass she has. The girl needs some sun. She is a white as ivory.”

They all smirked and laughed lightly as the girl blushed.

“Nice of you to say, Donald. You made her blush,” observed Astrid.

“So does she pass?” asked John.

“Yes,” said Donald

“Yes,” said Tom

“Yes,” answered Astrid.

“Let’s take her to the next room and see how much she can take,” declared John.

Heart in her throat, the slut was ordered to get down on her hands and knees. Donald bent over and grabbed her by her hair and led her screaming through a door into a padded room. She was made to stand and her arms were shackled to a pair of cuffs that hung straight from the ceiling. A light blinded her to everything but the voices. Her legs were spread apart and a bar with cuffs kept them that way. A hand grabbed her hair and pulled it fiercely causing her to scream. She then felt a pair of scissors cut into her bra then it was ripped away by Donald. A hand slipped into her panties and felt her mound making her gasp. She then felt it being cut away and saw it fall to the floor.

“You won’t believe how wet the slut is,” smirked Tom as he unbuckled her garter belt and let it drop to the floor. Hands began stroking her and twisting her nipples. More thuggish tugs on her hair made her moan and groan with pleasure and pain.

“The slut doesn’t like her hair pulled. Do you slut?” Observed Donald.

Another hand pulled her hair from the back making her scream.

“Answer him,” ordered Astrid.

“N-n-n-o-o-o. I hate having my hair pulled.”

“You mean it hurts,” Donald said.

“Yes,” she said before screaming again.

“Do you want us to never pull on you hair?” asked John.

Another sharp and painful tug so intense it made her eyes water.

“Ask nicely, slut, and we won’t ever pull on your hair again,” said Tom.

Usually, she didn’t mind having her hair pulled. It was sexy when her man did it but these people were ripping them out of her skull.

“Please. Don’t pull on my hair,” she cried.

“Well, well, well. She asks us nicely we should honor Tom’s agreement with the slut,” declared Astrid.

“Right, bind her arms from behind,” said John.

They released her arms from overhead and made her shake them. She felt relief and the circulation return. Her hands were placed behind her and a leather case slipped over them and was tightened. She was immobilized with her arms behind her.

“Kneel,” ordered Tom.

She complied and felt Tom attach a chain to the bar between her legs and to the bag encasing her arms. She now was kneeling and unable to move except to fall over. A bench slid between her knees and arms. Giving her something to lean against and she sighed in relief.

“Let’s get to work. Bring me the clippers,” said Donald.

Her eyes widened and words began to protest.

“What’s wrong, slut?” asked John as he held a camera to record the event.

“Please don’t,” she begged.

“Don’t what?” he taunted.

“Don’t cut my hair,” she said as the clippers switched on and purred in front of her disbelieving eyes.

“We said we wouldn’t pull on your hair and this is how we keep our word slut.”

Before she could say anything the clippers were running down the center of her hair. It ran again and again as hair fell before her eyes. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched her beautiful shoulder length hair litter the floor in front of her. Think that it was done, she tried to say something only to feel something cold covering her head. It made her shiver before she felt the razor began scraping her head. Time lost meaning as each of the four worked to remove all traces of her hair. When it was done, the chain was released and her hands freed. The bar that was between her legs was removed as well as the bench.

“Stand up, slave,” Ordered John.

She did but could open her eyes.

“Look at your new self, slave,” commanded Tom.

She couldn’t. She shook her head no.

“Do it!” demanded Donald as she felt a sharp sting across her ass.

“O-w-w-w,” she moaned and looked into the mirror. The slut had disappeared and looking back was a slave. A slave she wanted to be. The transformation shocked her into obedience.
Astrid came up behind her. Peering over her shoulder, Astrid stared at the slave naked, hairless head body as if it was her own. She whispered, “We must wax your landing strip away tomorrow, slave.” Slave looked down between her legs and nodded in agreement.

“As you command,” the slave said.

“Good. Your man is here. He will take you to the salon tomorrow and get it taken care of. You will begin your slave training at this location for the first week and then visit each one of us the next four weeks. When you have completed your training. We will sell your services for the next six months. After that, you can do whatever you want, slave. Now get down on your hands and knees and crawl out of here.”

“Good little piggy,” taunted Donald as the slave did as ordered.

“She is going to do well,” said John as she crawled out of the room. Her man was waiting outside leaning against his car. She made it to the car before he saw her baldness for the first time.

 He said nothing and opened the back door on the driver side. She climbed in and lay down.

He closed the door and started the car. “Slave?”

Her eyes opened, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Go to sleep. I’m glad you aren’t a slut anymore.”

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