Slave Owner Costume Novels & Stories

I followed the slave master obediently till we arrived at a small building. "Here... Take your bath in there. The clothes you are going to wear are already in there. Scrub real nice and be out as soon as possible." He ordered. "Yes sir" * I was dressed in a clothing that made me look like a waiter or some sort of entertainer. I had only seen the waiters a few times when parties were held in the mansion and I had the luck of running into them. Looking in the mirror, I looked good with this outfit. My hair was still a bit damp and I had pulled it into a ponytail. It was long and overgrown but of course, slaves had no access to barbers.

he would not be kind and gentle as it should be. I stopped at his knees and he took a deep breath. I wasn’t wearing much, the slave collar, and a white, silk, spaghetti strap gown that was practically see-through. I was told as the king's slave that undergarments weren’t allowed.. so obviously I don’t have those either. I was surprised when the maids handed me this..I’m a slave and it’s not proper slave attire, but apparently, the King requested it.

Even though it was already late, the night couldn't hide the beauty of the castle. "Master!" Some ladies came running and bowed when they reached his side. Master? are they all his slaves? She looked at them, and they seem nothing like slaves. They were dressed in luxurious wears like the nobles, beautiful. This is not what she expected a sex slave to look like. "She is the new slave I bought, you have a week to teach her everything she needs to know" He ordered and walked inside with his guards behind him. "A week?" Imogen thought. After a week, what happens next? Will he have her then?

the red-haired maid said coldly as I pulled off my night dress. I had worn a night dress from Guham to Prussiate! And seeing this maid's hair reminded me that I hadn't washed the dye on my hair, and my being a slave meant that my hair would damage a lot. I pulled into the slave uniform, which was comfortable as it didn't tighten my belly. I stared at it with so much distaste as it seemed like a curse. "Where is the Queen of Guham?" A man's stern voice came. He didn't even mind that most maids were naked; it looked normal to him… He looks as deadly as King Theo.

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.

the red-haired maid said coldly as I pulled off my night dress. I had worn a night dress from Guham to Prussiate! And seeing this maid's hair reminded me that I hadn't washed the dye on my hair, and my being a slave meant that my hair would damage a lot. I pulled into the slave uniform, which was comfortable as it didn't tighten my belly. I stared at it with so much distaste as it seemed like a curse. "Where is the Queen of Guham?" A man's stern voice came. He didn't even mind that most maids were naked; it looked normal to him… He looks as deadly as King Theo.

“Sold for sixty million!" Did I just spend sixty million for a slave?

"Don't you dare claim to love the woman whose life you stole. You are only alive because our Alpha wants to see you suffer. If it were up to the pack, we’d have fed you to the forest shadows the moment you arrived." They didn't speak again. They dressed me in the bundle they had brought. It was a gown made of the finest, most translucent silk I had ever felt, the color of charcoal and ash. It was designed to be beautiful, but its purpose was cruel. The neckline dipped dangerously low, and the sides were slit up to the hip, held together by nothing but thin silver chains. It was a garment for a concubine, a plaything—a visual representation of my status as a slave.

“As long as all parties are willing, treated with respect, and not minors, there is nothing wrong or right. It just is what it is.” “Give me…” He struggled. “Take your time,” she replied, easily, her eyes rising to beyond the booth. A man dressed in a pink dress that stretched over tightly across his chest and just covered his assets, and thigh high fishnets held up with pink ribbon, worked his pink glittery heels and glittered red beard as he served them. A pink collar around his neck read: SLAVE. He set a metal shaker, a cocktail glass, and two tall glasses of clear liquid onto the table.

Not until I saw a man approaching me. The man appeared disheveled and unkempt, with tattered clothing that showed signs of wear and tear. His face bore traces of dirt and grime, making me realize that I was no different from him because he was a slave too. But despite his work appearance, his eyes held a glimmer of resilience, reflecting the strength within him. His posture seemed weary, hinting at the possible hardship he must have endured in the slave establishment. "Miss, are you working here as a slave?" He asked, his voice gentle yet firm.