She awoke from a deep sleep and streched lazily and luxuriously. She thought that she had heard her name being called but there was no one in the room with her.

Her sleep had been pierced by dreams she could not quite recall. She had been on a platform, kneeling naked and chained in place. People who she thought she knew but whose names she could not recall came to look at her. "She looks good in chains," they said. "Yes," said others, "she will make an excellent slave." She tried to cry out, No, No, Help Me, Free Me. But she could not make the words come and the chains stopped her from rising. "Yes, an excellent choice. The first of many." That was the voice of a man and she felt herself become moist and excited at the sound of his voice.

She was lying on her back on a low mattress looking at the ceiling. She had never seen that ceiling before but she felt good and unworried. She was naked but the air was warm and she had a warm tingling feeling in her cunt. She ran her hands down her body touching her breasts and reveling in the good feeling she had. She brought her hands to her face to rub the sleep from her eyes. It was then that she received her first shock: there was a ring in her nose! She sat up abruptly to find herself looking at a mirror at the foot of the bed. There she saw herself: there was not only a ring in her nose but a steel collar around her neck. It had writing on it but not an alphabet she recognised and appeared to be locked on to her. On her body were the smeared stains from the letters written on her in her own blood.

Then it all came back to her: the kidnapping in Oxford Street; the ceremony and her reaction to it: her declaration of her own slavery. The thought of that last event brought back again the wave of lust that she had felt then and she found her hand reaching down to begin frigging her cunt.

With a shudder she forced herself to stop and think and look around her. She was in a very low little room. She could not have risen above her knees in here and she would have to crawl out of the small hutch-like door on all fours. There was a small window behind her through which morning light was coming. Opposite it was the mirror beneath which was a shelf and beside it was a clothes rack, empty at the moment.

For a moment panic overwhelmed her; she could not absorb everything that had happened to her, all the things she had felt. She was naked and alone in a very strange land and her status was the lowest of the low. What was more she had been fucked publicly by a stranger and declared herself his slave! The thought of the ceremony began another wave of lust and she was about to start frigging herself again when a voice sounded in her head:

Slave, you are to leave your kennel now and go with the man outside. You will obey his orders and he will bring you to me when you are ready.

She had no difficulty recognising the voice: it was the man she had called Master. She had no idea how he had spoken to her but she found herself hurrying to obey his commands. The prospect of being with him again was exciting in the extreme; she knew this reaction wasn't like her normal self but she had no choice but to obey.

As she crawled out of her 'kennel', she found herself in a long corridor lined with similar doors. She was on all fours at the feet of a man dressed like the ones who had fetched her to the ceremony: in leather armour and carrying a small five-bladed whip. She looked up at him nervously. He spoke in a thick accent and it was clear that English was not his native language.

"Kneel up, slut."

As she did so he clipped a leash to her collar.

"When you kneel, you keep legs wide apart. That better. I Slatrov. You call me sir! You come along with me, we wash you and get you ready for Master. Clear?"

"Yes."

He brought down his whip on her back twice and she fell to the floor, crying.

"Stupid slut! I tell you call me SIR! Now THAT CLEAR?"

"Yes sir!"

"Kneel back up. For that you keep mouth shut until you with Master. And you keep on all fours too! Come along, stupid slut."

She was lead by the man along the corridor, crawling along behind him like a poodle. She passed the other 'kennels' and saw they were empty of even the mattress that was the sole furniture in her own. She was lead to a room at the end of the corridor where there were huge communal showers and crude toilets. At his command she emptied her bladder and then showered in front of him. After she had dried herself he took her to a nearby cupboard and outfitted her in a skimpy outfit made of suede, shaped like a poncho and open at the sides. It tied at the waist with a belt of the same material. She combed her hair and left it lying unbound over her shoulders. Then it was down on her hands and knees again and she was being led out into the open.

Around her the day was warm and the scents of tropical flowers hung heavy on the air. She could see other women dressed like herself, wearing rings in their noses and collars, scampering along paths between the buildings. Some were on domestic errands, carrying laundry or bowls of fruit. One group were working at a garden plot under the supervision of another of the leather-clad, whip-weilding men. She saw two harnessed like two-legged ponies to a small cart containing harvested vegetables. All were extremely beautiful. As the man lead her along a path towards a large, central building they passed one of the women who fell to her knees and bowed her head as the man went by.

The man led her up a flight of stairs and into a huge room. The walls were lined with huge leather bound books. On the walls hung star charts and diagrams of the human body marked with astrological signs. Seated at a desk t the far end of the room, reading from a book and making notes with a quill pen was her Master! Her heart pounded as she saw him and a new wave of lust washed over her. The man with her had her kneel before the desk and then spoke for a while in an unknown language. Her Master nodded and then spoke.

"Yes, you are even more lovely by daylight. Remove your garment, my dear and let me look at you. Yes, very lovely indeed. Do you know who I am my dear?"

"Uh, no...sir. But I know what you are."

"And what am I?"

"You...are...my Master."

"Very good. Yes I am. For that I will not even punish you for not addressing me properly. From now on remember to call me Master at all times. Understood?"

"Yes, Master."

It felt good to her to be kneeling like this with her Master watching her. When he said nice things about her she got dizzy with pleasure and excitement. She had forgotten everything else in the room, in the world except pleasing her Master.

"As to who I am. You are now the property of Kandolus the Mage. Of the City of Chur. In the Land of Dathbar. You have never heard of these places before have you?"

She shook her head.

"And do you know why you have never heard of these places?"

"I...I think so Master." He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I think that this place...this land is on another world, Master. Last night I saw that there were two moons in the sky. This cannot be the Earth, Master."

"Bright as well as lovely. Yes, my slave you are quite right. This is the world of Belas. The light from the sun in our sky will never reach your Earth, no matter how long it travels. You were brought here across dimensional bounderies unknown to the scientists of Earth. The distance was bridged by the only force that is capable of it. The force of Magic. Here on Belas it is not the puny wisdom of Science that rules. It is Magic. Those, like myself, who have the Gift control all of this world. Kings and Merchants may rule Kingdoms and Cities. But only because WE allow them to. When magicians can bring fire down on your cities or make the dead rise from their graves and march on your palace, then you give them whatever they want. You understand?"

"Yes, Master."

"But by and large we prefer to dedicate ourselves to our Art and leave the details of ruling to others. In my researches I have found the way to your pitiful, Magic-less world. Since I have the Power I can take whatever I wish from your world. The first thing I have taken is you and the other women I snatched from the cities of your world. You will be raw material for another interest of mine. Tell me, my dear, how do you feel about me?"

Being asked the question made her focus on the wave of feelings that were flooding through her.

"Master, I feel...I feel I want to crawl to your feet and lick them. I want to serve you, touch you. You are my Master, my Owner. I...Please, Master let me serve you. I know I am not worthy. Please let me..."

"Be silent!" At her Master's displeasure, Susan felt her throat dry up and she trembled.

"Your feelings are perfectly natural. You are now my slave, magically bonded to me. For the rest of your life you will feel like that about your Master. I have complete control over you, body, mind and soul. Let me demonstrate. What is your name, Slave?"

"Susan, Master. Susan Browning."

"Forget that name. Forget all about Susan Browning and the life she lead. Forget all about the world she came from. Now what is your name?"

She cast about in her mind for the information that she knew had been there the moment before. There was nothing. Not even the memory of where she had come from before her Master had made her his. She felt panic rising in her.

"Master, I...I don't know. I can't remember my name!"

"Be calm my slave. There is no need to panic. From now on your name is Shemba. Who are you?"

"I am Shemba, Master." Shemba felt herself calming down again. Her Master had given her a name and everything would be alright.

The Master smilled. "This is my favourite form of Art: the making of slave-girls. There are none of your foolish laws here to prevent me. The owning of pleasure-slaves is a common habit of the richer classes here and my House is famed for the quality of its product. But though you are mentally bound to slavery you are not yet a trained slave. You will be trained by the best slavers in this land until I am satisfied with you. Do you understand?"

"I don't know, Master. I feel terribly confused. I have never felt like this before. But I will do my best for you."

"Yes, you will. When you are properly trained you will be permitted to serve me, personally." A wave of longing swept through her at the thought. "Until then you will obey the commands of my men and you will please me by learning to please them. Treat a command from them as a command from me. They have my permission to punish you if you are displeasing or disobedient. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

"Slatrov, try her out for me. See what she knows." He turned back to his desk and began studying the papers there.

"Yes, Lord Kadolus." The guard tugged on her leash to bring her round to face him. "Slut, do you know how to suck cock?"

Shemba shuddered, her mind split between wanting to look at her Master and wanting to obey the man in front of her. What she felt when the guard ordered her about was a shadow of what she felt for her Master and the crudeness of the question made her frightened of what was to follow. Then the man's huge paw was backhanding her face, knocking her to the ground and bringing the taste of blood to her mouth.

"STUPID SLUT! Pay attention to what I say or you get worse than that. Now kneel up and answer question. Answer question, slut!"

Shemba knelt up and managed to make herself speak: "Yes, sir. I think so."

"You think what?"

"I think I know how to suck..c..cock, sir."

"Let's see. First you show me how humble you are. You get down on all fours and lick my boots. Get them clean, stupid slut."

She found herself down on her hands and knees and enthusiastically licking the guard's boots clean of the dust and mud they had accumulated during the journey here. He kept her at it for a good long time until his boots were shiny with her saliva all over and she had the smell of the leather in her nostrils and a vile taste in her mouth. Then he jerked her to her knees again with the leash.

"Alright, slut. Now let's see if you know how to suck cock. First you ask permission, real nice."

"Sir," she found herself saying, "please may I suck your cock?"

"Nicer than that."

"Sir, may I please..uh..please may I have the honour of sucking your magnificent cock?"

He pretended to think about it for a moment: "Oh, okay."

She reached forward and undid his belt, letting his trousers fall. Underneath was a sort of loincloth arrangement and when she had ungirded his loins, his cock flopped in her face, long, thick and uncircumcised. She leant forward to take it in her mouth when he slapped her again.

"Stupid slut, you know nothing. Do as I say. First take length of cock in both hands. Good. Now raise it up but don't put it in mouth yet. Pull back the foreskin. Good. So."

As the pink tip of his cock was exposed she smelled the masculine fragrance of his cock and felt it throb in her hands.

"Now lift up cock and begin by licking balls. That's right. Gently. Now lick up the length of cock, all the way up, and down again. Get it wet all over. Good." His cock began to swell and jump in her hands.

"Now take the tip into your mouth. Just use the lips and the tounge. Not the teeth. That's good. Let's see how much cock you can swallow."

As she followed the guard's instructions she felt her nipples begin to harden and her pussy moisten. The experience wasn't as intense as being touched by her Master but she knew that she would soon be dripping wet. The taste of cock made drove out the taste of dust from her mouth and her jaws began to ache as her mouth filled with hardening cock.

Then suddenly he pulled his cock out of her mouth.

"Are you hot slave?"

"Please, oh please...."

He slapped her across the face, hard.

"I asked you a question, slut! Are you hot and juicy?"

"I...Yes. Yes, Sir."

"You want to be fucked, slave?"

"I...Please, Sir!"

"It is an honour for a slave to be fucked. You think you deserve such an honour?"

There was a question with a sting at both ends! "I...Only if it pleases you, Sir."

He smiled. "Pretty good answer. Tell you what. You beg nice, I fuck you." "Sir?" "You will be fucked if you beg pretty enough. Start now!"

She took a deep breath and then threw herself at his feet and began kissing and licking his boots. "Please, Sir. Your unworthy slave Shemba begs the privilige of being fucked by you. I am only an unworthy, miserable worm but please stick your cock into my pussy. It is hot and juicy and it is only there to serve you. Please Sir, I am only a lowly slave and it will be an honour for me to serve..."

Vaguely she wondered where she was getting all this from. She had never spoken to a man like this in her life but it seemed to be the most natural thing in the world.

"Get on all fours slut. You are to be fucked!" As he thrust his huge, hard, throbbing cock deep inside her, the slave cried out in pleasure and pain. Then the guard slapped her backside hard as he plunged deep into her with a regular, determined stroke.

"Aren't you grateful for the chance to serve, slave?"

"Yes, yes, Sir!"

"Aren't you grateful for the chance to show your Master what you can do?" She looked up to see her Master still bent over his papers apparently unconcerned at the writhing slave at his feet.

"Yes, Sir, of course, Sir!"

"Then what do you say?"

"Thank you, thank you, Sir. I'm sorry, Master. Thank you. Oh, God, oh Master, oh fuck! Oh, do it! Do it hard. My juicy cunt. My cunt. Your cock. In my hot cunt. Oh God, I'm commmingggggggggg!"

She collapsed into a heap of quivering flesh at the foot of the desk. The wizard looked up at the guard.

"Well, Slatrov?"

"She not too bad, my Lord. Nice and juicy, hot and tight. Come here slut. You clean me off with pretty mouth." Whimpering, Shemba obeyed. "She just need polishing up a bit. She don't know much about fucking but she got natural talent. Do up belt now, slut. That's good. Now kneel up."

The Master looked her over once more and then rang a handbell on his desk. A door opened and a slave-woman entered. Tall and full-breasted, she had bright red hair which hung down to her waist. She ran over to the desk and then knelt and kissed the Master's feet. Kneeling up, she said spoke in a strange language.

"Speak in English, Challya."

"As you command, my Master. How may I serve you?"

"The first of your pupils has arrived. Shemba, this is Challya. She is to be your trainer. You will address her as Teacher or Mistress. You will obey all her commands unless they are overrulled by myself or one of my men. She has the right to punish you. When you have completed your training to her satisfaction you will be permitted to serve me again. Slatrov, hand the slave over to Challya."

The guard handed Shemba's leash over and Challya came and stood over her.

"Pick up your tunic and kiss the Master's feet, Slave and we will begin your training."

Swiftly Shemba went down on all fours to do obeisance. She glanced up at her Master who had already turned back to his work. Then she was being lead out of his presence. It was the last she saw of him for two months.