Slave Owner Costume Novels & Stories

He did the same for Lisa. Mistress led us to a room filled with lockers, and told Master he could put his clothes in one if he wanted, and wear the key to the locker around his neck. "Some of the dominants maintain one item of clothing to identify their status, but I think it's foolish, since all the slaves have harnesses." She removed all of her clothes and Master chose to do the same. He had nothing to be ashamed of.

"Sexy French maid or tortured slave?" One was an expensive, French maid outfit made out of silk. It wrapped around the small of her waist and covered a small part of her breasts - a little adjustment and she would be exposed. It had a small skirt that ended in the middle of her ass - she would flash her cunt when she walked. The tortured slave outfit was a torn black dress that, as the name suggests, put her on display from the torn areas. "French maid," I replied. "You'll be 'serving us'. It's more apt."

And very swiftly she began stripping down until I was bare in nothing other than my panties and bra, I stared at her as she nonchalantly kept dressing me in a longsleeved wedding dress that seemed more fitting for the victorian era. It had puffy sleeves and lace all over, a turtle neck that buttoned down my back. The dress was long and poofed at the bottom as it hit the floor, gulping my eyes instantly shot up to look at Lilly who was still meticulously at work preparing me for a wedding. "So you're a slave?" My question suddenly stilled her as she stopped working on the dress and looked up at me with tension in her eyes, "Yes," She nodded, "I've been a slave since I learned how to walk, my

The smiling women strutted around in front of the Doms as they filed out from behind the stage. Camilla was a little puzzled to see that the slaves were to all intents and purposes stark naked. They had all primped and preened in their lovely costumes earlier in the bathroom, but they had removed them before coming on stage. She wondered if she was supposed to be naked, but she remembered what Sir had said about a little clothing making a woman sexier. In her soft sub space haze she decided that she didn't want to worry about it. Some of the lovely bare slaves had their collars on, and some still had their leash attached. Some had other types of jewelry and various bits of decoration, but ot

"If she sticks around, she'll be exposed to a lot more. All three of you have way too many clothes on for slaves." "Yes, Master." Clothes flew everywhere.

Relieved to be alone, I plop down on the stool and breathe. I can still hear the screaming. I think I’ll hear it even after it stops – definitely it will haunt my nightmares tonight. A moment later, another slave enters the chamber. Her garb is similar to mine, but with an additional halter top under her silken tank top. Perhaps she is favored to earn more clothing. Or maybe… it’s the opposite. The King might prefer not to see her flesh.

The fabric was so thin it might as well have been air and it barely covered anything important. The dress they forced on me was cut low in front and high on the sides and every movement threatened to expose more skin than I could bear to show. The other slaves looked just as miserable in their matching outfits and we all understood the message these clothes sent. We were not people but decorations meant to make the wolves feel superior. "Remember the rules." The head guard said as servants painted our faces and fixed our hair which in my case meant rubbing more ash into the white strands that kept trying to show through the black dye.

He seemed regret to inform me this. “Thanks Ben.” I inhaled deeply before forcing a smile to him and getting up. My face twitched as I felt a great muscle soreness spreading over my body. Benjamin told me that Mrs. Manson had prepared two suits of new uniforms for each selected slave to serve through the celebration. Just like what Samantha had anticipated, the new uniforms were made of cloths in high qualities and the size fitted us better. “You look nice!” Benjamin exclaimed when I got dressed up and stepped out of the pantry.

I grabbed the clothes she had knowingly tossed onto the floor and dusted them off. Raising them up, I couldn't help but grimace. It was a khaki shirt paired with a knee-length skirt in the same material. It looked dreadful, and I couldn't imagine myself wearing it. "This is what the maids wear. You're only wearing it because we don't have official outfits for slaves yet," she explained. "You'll wear this all the time, or you'll face severe punishment."

The king and his family, for example wore midnight blue. She was naked under the robe, as befitting her new status as a love slave, and it was a plain white color, so as not to imply previous ownership, although Keanna was one of the only slaves who was new to this process. The Sechuan traders had warned them that potential buyers would be asking them to open their robes so they could inspect the merchandise before they bid on it. Just one more humiliation she was prepared to accept. She’d come this far—she was committed now to going through with this.