Free A Family In Slavery by Peter King Page A

men that controlled her only called her ‘mama slave,’ constantly reminding her of her and her daughters’ new lot in life. With each passing session she endured, her grip on her old identity was slowly torn from her mind. Coupled with the constant sexual stimulation, she found that like her eldest daughter, it became the only solace she experienced in her bleak existence.
    Sam decided that while she was well built for her age, her body could shed a few pounds and be more toned. Hence she was started on a daily exercise regimen, albeit with a kinky twist. She would jog on a treadmill with her hands bound behind her back and wearing high-heels. Of course she was naked, not allowed to wear a stitch of clothing since she stripped for Sam in his bedroom. Keeping her balance with her hands bound and her tits flopping on her chest was a trial, taking several spills before learning to keep up with the machine. The whippings she received for each failure did speed up her learning curve and after just a few sessions she was jogging for half an hour without incident. Then they gave her higher heels, starting the process again.
    After her runs she was fixed to a special machine that kept her head up and hands next to it, locked into wooden stocks. The stocks were attached to two vertical poles on both sides of Monica, but were not fixed and could slide up and down the poles. Her legs were kept spread out to the bases of the poles with chains and cuffs. She would then do squats onto the dildo mounted on a short pole between her legs, sometimes driving it into her cunt and other times up her ass. Every exercise session was monitored by one of her masters, always berating her with awful insults as she sweated and strained.
    That was just a small part of mama slave’s day; most of her time was spent in severe bondage, usually designed so they could fuck her every hole while totally helpless. She was fed by hand and made to beg for every scrap of food she received. This was humiliating enough, but not nearly as much as learning to piss and shit with an audience and never in a toilet. She was grateful when she could use a bucket, too often they would make her pee in a cup and then pour it over her head, or worse, make her drink it.
    There was no aspect of her life that was not designed to humiliate and degrade her. Their verbal taunts increased her own self-doubt, and started to make her believe she was truly worthless. The fact that their insults were juxtaposed with them forcing terribly powerful orgasms from her body reinforced her new view of herself. During the first two weeks of her captivity her old self retreated into the recesses of her mind, as all her conscious attention was focused on the constant stimulation she underwent.
    While her daughters were being guided into specific roles in the way they were being trained, Monica was left in an utter state of confusion. While Katia extolled the virtues of slavery to Meg and the brothers’ trained Maria to be a true animal, Monica had nothing to focus her mind on and it was affecting her sanity. She was never spoken to, unless being ordered to perform a function or berated for her ineptitude. She was like a toy, used for their pleasure without a word of encouragement or even acknowledgement.
    She had no idea Sam was simply peeling away her past life and leaving her an empty vessel. He saw her girls as young and malleable, which is why their training started immediately. Their lives had yet to really start, while Monica’s had to be erased. By leaving her no purpose or meaning for her life, he left her in the pit of her despair. Soon he would reach down and pluck her up, offering her a new purpose in life. Then she could truly become his slave, looking to serve him in any way he desired.
    After nearly two weeks, with her daughters’ training progressing well and Monica nearly lost in despair, he started the rebuilding process. She had just finished a grueling exercise session,