Times have changed - Part 4 (repost) (Patreon)

After the judge had been inspected and welcomed by his former slave, Viola had been asked to escort him out of the salon. Usually, she would just grab the bounty and leave, but in this particular case, she happily agreed. She attached a leach to his collar and lead him away. The judge was in shock. He still could not believe he had ended up at the handy of all these vengeful women, thousands of miles away from the border and with everyone who could have helped him either outside the country or enslaved as well. Forced into a humiliating kneeling position, he did his best to shuffle over the wooden floor and follow the clicking boots of his captress. It was surreal to be here, in what had been his home for decades, with all his furniture and belongings still there. He, however, was now a mere slave in his own house.

When Viola and Judge Ashcroft left the salon, they stumbled right into a disturbing scene. In the fading light of the day, kneeling between the Judge’s expensive telescope and one of his antique side tables, a young woman was chocking on Darius’ cock. Before the revolution, when men like Ashcroft had still been in power, Darius’ had been the manor’s gardener. Ashcroft noted the man was wearing his clothes and shoes, a realization filling him with terrible but futile rage. “Oh Jesus, I didn’t mean to disturb you!”, Viola said and stopped. “Hey, Vi!” Darius replied while he casually guided the blonde head up his shaft. “You never do, always a pleasure to see you around here… hey, the judge is back home! Let him get a nice look at this!” With a plop, Darius’s shaft left the woman’s throat, covered in thick streams of saliva. As the liquid dribbled down to the floor, the slave’s tearful eyes met with Ashcroft’s. And to his great horror, he recognized her as Maribelle Baker. The bakers had been friends of his, and while they had fled a few hours before the judge made his escape, their daughter had obviously not made it.

Maribelle had been an important part of the community, one of the prettiest girls around and always a welcome guest at every dinner party. She had also been renowned for sadistically punishing her own slaves for every little mishap. Now, she was all tied up, her jaws held apart by a steel gag, desperately looking at Ashcroft as if he was in any position to help her. Maribelle’s body had been smeared with filthy words, her tender nipples pierced. Between her legs, the judge spotted a row of shiny metal rings, piercing her most sensitive flesh and keeping her labia shut. He shuddered, for he knew what that meant: the poor girl was doomed to serve as a chastity slave, serving her masters and mistresses only with her mouth and anus. A pull on his leash signaled him to continue his slow walk after Viola. “Think he’s seen enough!”, she said and walked on, “Mistress wanted me to show him the gardens. I’ve heard you did a nice job there?” Darius laughed. “Yeah! You’ll like it! The judge… not so much!” Ashcroft got a last look at Maribelle’s pleading eyes before he was pulled further doe nth room. Next to the door leading to the hallway, he saw a painting leaning on the wall. It showed him back in his pride, a work of art to intimidate his visitors. It was all dusty and looked like it was about to go to the trash.