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Heart broken, he goes to the family cabin.

The three Dommes picked her up and threw her over the wall!!!! It's a one hundred foot drop to the huge boulders below in the crashing surf. Those boulders have sharp edges. The water is icy cold, full of ice floes.

We heard her wailing and screaming become fainter and fainter as she fell. Then there was just the howling wind.

We learned a lot that day. Every one of us begged very sincerely, very fervently when we got back to the dungeon. We licked and kissed devoutly, knelt prettily, shoulders back, tits thrust out and held high, posed and showed off our restraints like jewelry models every time a Domme even glanced at us.

The girls crawling by me under the whips of their slave drivers must be 5's, newbies. Probably being taken to scrub grease pits in the kitchens or clean litter pans in the cells of higher grade slaves.

I do feel sorry for them but I also think they deserve what they get. If a girl doesn't know enough to thank a Mistress while she's being whipped then she deserves to be whipped harder. I may only be a trained animal but I know how to survive. I'm an 8 and very proud of it too!!!

The Mistress at the end of the chain of crawling girls looks sternly at me as She passes. She sees my pretty shackles. She sees I've got a carpet to kneel on. She probably even sees I've been given a very generous foot of ankle chain and guesses I do not belong with the slaves She's herding. She goes back to whipping the girls in front of Her, ignoring me. I consider begging permission to pee but decide not to chance it and keep quiet. I do NOT want to be added to THAT chain!

It was not long before another chain of slave girls was being driven by. These were different. They wear pretty manacles like me. Even more, some of them are in dazzling silk outfits like belly dancers with bangles, necklaces and even belled anklets! Others are in fabulous rubber corsets and skirts. Another has colorful swirly body paint covering every inch of her. One even has a golden collar and shackles all studded with sapphires! They all have gorgeous hairdos and makeup. "Gosh! They look lovely!" I think. "They must be 9's!!!"

I've never met a 10. I'm not sure they exist. A slave would have to have been be perfect in every way from her very first day. There are myths about 10's in the past. All girls, even Mistresses go quiet when telling the tales of their stunning beauty, their perfect servitude, their legendary grace.

I only know a couple of the girls. Sometimes high slaves can be bitches and don't talk to lower girls. But I see Juanita, Samantha, and Sarah who are nice. I smile at them. They smile back.

The lead Mistress stops and looks at me. I decide to chance it. I bow down placing my forehead on the floor.

"Mistress?" I plead just above a whisper, "may this slave beg to speak please?"

"Granted. What do you want slave?" She replies a bit wearily.

"Slave begs to pee please. This slave has not been walked all day and NEEDS it please Mistress," I whine pathetically.

The Mistress scowls, probably on a tight schedule to deliver the girls, looks around deciding what to do. She locks the leash of the first girl in Her line to a wall ring on the other wall to park the entire line of girls. I admire the girls deeply. Each one stands perfectly, like a model or perhaps a porn star. They ooze sensuality. They radiate sex like waves of heat you might see reflecting off the sand in a desert.

"Very well. Can't have puddles on the floor can we?" She states plainly as she unlocks my leash from my wall ring. "You may stand slave."

"Oh THANK You Mistress! Thank You!" I reply.

Inspired by the chain of slave girls, I unfold from my reclined position gracefully, stand with my right knee flexed slightly, right toes pointed down. I cock my hip to one side and flip my hair back over my shoulder. The Mistress studies me quietly for a moment. I'm not sure why.

She tugs my leash twice gently.

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