Slave Owner Costume Novels & Stories

"But not quite right. Kira, bring the uniform." The golden-haired woman stepped forward, and I saw the triumph in her green eyes. She held a bundle of gray fabric that she dropped at my feet with deliberate carelessness. "Servants wear gray in Blackthorne Keep," Dante explained, his tone almost conversational. "As do slaves. And that's what you are now, Princess. Not a prisoner of war. Not a hostage. A slave. My personal property, to do with as I please." "I am the heir to Silvermoon—"

I shake my head, wipe the tears that slip down my cheeks, and climb out of the bed. I look around the room and find the closet, enter and relax a little as I take a deep breath and smell the Master's scent everywhere. I search through the closet and find one of the slave dresses I know he would have had hidden in the back. I slip off the dress and underwear from last night and pull on the slave dress.

My pain didn’t concern him and why would it? Still, I didn’t expect this from him. Should I thank him? “T-thank you, Master.” I rushed past him to go to the bathroom. He was gone by the time I finished up in the bathroom. A neat pile of clothes lay on a chair in front of the fireplace. I removed the robe and wore the simple undergarment and gray dress. There was nothing suggestive or pretty about it. A dress for a slave. Thick woolen socks and black pumps finished the uniform. My hair was a mess, and I had nothing to comb it with. There was nothing for it but to use my fingers to disentangle the mess.

I couldn't bear the thought of losing anyone else. My chaotic thoughts were abruptly interrupted as we stepped into a large courtyard. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. It looked like a celebration. My eyes widened in shock at the sight before me. Men and women were dressed like me-in sheer, revealing clothing-and they all had collars around their necks, most of them in gleaming gold. They were slaves, just like I was now. So, this was it. I was Elijah's property now.

My mind was consumed by questions, doubts, and a profound sense of unease. Lost in my own troubled thoughts, I was startled when a knock resounded on the door. Slowly, I opened it, finding one of the pack slaves standing before me, holding out a simple attire worn by the others. The garment seemed to serve as a stark reminder of my new reality, a visual representation of the division between me and the rest of the pack. It was the attire usually worn by the slaves during training. "You're to put this on and join us in training by noon."

Her tongue darts out to lick along her lips, her sharp canine teeth poking out from her exposed lips. Material sliding across my body from behind causes me to tear my gaze away from the hungry look that was quickly appearing on her face. My gaze meets Mr. Jones’ as I turn to my right, his lips are thinned in disapproval and the undertones of fear can be seen on his usually relaxed face. I have no idea who that woman is, but I can tell by both of their body languages that whoever she is isn’t good. “She is nothing, my love.” Cassius’ harsh words bring my attention back to where he stands in the doorway with the gorgeous redhead draped over him like a scarf. “She is just a slave that we have r

I'm sure you guys can only recognize me by my voice but i can recognize both of you even with your shadows. "Bella? What are you...... Dad said he sold you out as a slave. You are not supposed to be here. This event if not for a people like you. What the hell are you doing here?" Bella asked, ignoring the fact that she doesn't look like someone who was sold as Slave. She could tell that the cloths she was wearing was a very costly one, not to talk about the shoes and hair. "Maybe she came to work. Her master must have chosen her to work along with the bartender to serve drinks. Just that.." He stared at her dress. "She didn't dress like one." Donald said, still checking her out. Her outfit w

I glared at him, knowing I wasn't going to like whatever would come out of his mouth next. “You two are dressed beautifully. Are you going on a date?” He beamed. Scarlett choked at what she heard, and I sent a menacing look her way. “In her dreams,” I scoffed. “I am taking her to the person in charge of slaves. I have some instructions to give to him concerning her.” “This doesn't sound good.” He looked at Scarlett sympathetically. “It does to me,” I said. “Follow me, slave. Your most pleasurable moment awaits.” I spat out sarcastically, leading the way to the slave ground.

The captured slaves were branded and put to work into different sectors. And the particular look she wore was used to decorate the pleasure slaves (the ones bought for the sole purpose of sexual pleasure) from regular slaves. The collar being the way to know the one owned by the richest man because it would be very expensive. Her mouth twisted cynically as the weight of the gold and jade collar weighed her down. “Answer me, Esme!” His voice cut like a whip through the silence, ringing with vibrating angry impatience. “Who the fuck gave you these to wear? I had already sent up a dress for you to wear. Why didn’t you wear that?”

Carla When we finally arrived at our chalet, the first thing we did was head inside. Our purchases, along with two slaves who were chained together, were handed over to us by the slave trader. One of them was a stout guy with brown hair and blue eyes, and he was one of them. He was dressed in clothes that were not tailored to his body and were made of a rough material; these were clothes that were typical of those worn by laborers. His muscles protruded from under his clothing, giving the impression that he was exceptionally powerful. In spite of the fact that he appeared to be tough, he was smiling warmly, which gave the impression that he was not dangerous.