Padme Slave Costume Novels & Stories

I had no idea how he was going to do it, but I knew he would find them somehow. “There, our mate is there... She is one of the…” Grey abruptly came to a halt, and as the pheromones grew closer, I saw a girl walking forward with chains on her hands and legs, escorted by some guards. “No way, Grey, that’s not our mate! Our mate cannot be a slave! A filthy slave! Is the moon goddess playing with us right now? This has never happened before, and I will not accept it!” I said, my voice agitated. I wasn’t going to let this happen.

Her slim and slender waist perfectly danced from one angle to another as she made her way to the closet. The towel covering her body falls to the ground revealing a very clean and scar-free skin. She looked nothing less than a runway model. Sarah walks in carrying a tray of freshly picked fruits served on a golden platter. “Why that?” Sarah asks her mistress, who tilts her head towards her, giving her a gentle smile before focusing back on her attire. With a satisfied smile, Seranda steps out of the room not after having a good amount of fruits to start her day. It was obvious she was important to the lord and seeing her step out dressed in his sweatpants and hoodie was all the servants need

Celeste had contemplated not going, but Vada’s kind smile resonated with her, and Vada had sent a message requesting her attendance, so she pushed herself out of bed after a whole night of no sleep. Her closet was filled with beautiful clothes, but a simple pastel green dress had grabbed her attention. Its long sleeves were easily maneuvered under her slave bracelets. The A-line skirt barely swept the floor, and the sweetheart neckline was left bare. The plaits from last night had been let loose to let her curls free. Her eyes were lined with coal, and rose dye had been powered to her lips and cheeks to give her a rose tint. A knock on the door startled her. She headed to the door, and just

A scent she couldn’t name, something that sent a chill down her spine. Two slave women were already inside, emotionless. The older one held a tiny piece of fabric, a sheer, short garment that covered almost nothing. "Dress her," the handler ordered, leaving the room laughing. Selene stepped back, growling. "Over my dead body." But they grabbed her. The slaves didn’t speak. They were fast, trained. Even though Selene kicked, shoved, and bit, they forced the outfit onto her. The so-called "clothing" was an insult, a thin-strapped thong and a top that barely covered her nipples. She was practically naked. Humiliated.

Lucas started crying and Rhonda took care of him since she wasn't going to be participating. Lisa and I got all the toys we'd be playing with today, the whips, the paddles, the anal plugs, gags, the Slave Trainer, nipple clamps, and strapless dildo's. We got out the camera and lights. The masks were taken out and Master removed all jewelry identifying anyone by name. It was all replaced with generic collars, cuffs and cunt badges, saying only things like 'Sex Slave' or 'Property of Master'. Evelyn didn't have non-personalized slave jewelry with her, but we provided it for her. I thought the diamond jewelry on her nipples and clitoral hood would look spectacular lighted up in photos.

But the men inside still lounged like kings, still held their drinks with slow arrogance and watched her like they deserved to devour her. Jasmine walked through the smoke and warmth, and the world narrowed to the sway of her hips and the flick of her gaze. She wore black. Not mourning-black, not submission-black. Her gown was midnight silk, slit to her hip, with sheer panels that shimmered like water. No jewelry. No paint. Just lips the color of bruised plums and a mouth that moved like a prayer half-spoken. She didn’t need more than that. She never had.

Today was the day I was supposed to join the training. I pushed aside the soft, delicate dresses that Jay liked me to wear, and I reached for the boldest, most commanding attire that I had, a warrior set that was made especially for a Luna—it was sleek, it was imposing, and it was made for battle. The dark material, a combination of leather and light armor plating, was embroidered with intricate designs that featured gold and silver, all signs of power and dominance. The attire fit me to perfection, hugging my physique not to highlight its beauty but its power, which was something that Jay hated.

' I almost screamed. I did an outfit check again. I didn't have anything too flashy or expensive to wear, considering my condition as a slave. I was in a short, sleeveless, tight black dress that only reached mid-thigh. I wasn't a fan of makeup, so I had only a light red lipstick on. My curly ginger hair was down and bouncy; I decided not to put it in a ponytail or bon tonight. I knew I looked stunning. “Miss Jasmine, "I heard a familiar deep masculine voice.

A sheer long robe draped over it, with feathers trimming the bottom and dramatic sleeves. She had donned a deep emerald corset with fishnets and velvet emerald panties. Harland had also reluctantly agreed to join us, after I had begged him to support our cause. No one would be able to touch them. Not when I was around. They deserved happiness, just like the rest of us. The Goddess chose them for a reason. There was always a reason, even when they didn't want to see the bright side to it. "Dargan will be here in a few minutes to take us down," Teagan pointed out and put her matching earrings in. "Are you ready to face them yet?"

That very quickly fell quiet as all eyes turned to me. “Amara?” Tara questioned her eyes wide with worry, and I forget that she knew Amelia, Tara was the only girl here who was here at the time and was old enough to know what it all meant, and Amelia was the only girl that was ever allowed to dress in clothes other than the slaves uniform.