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Selling Four free porn video
4 July, 2011 - It started with my advertisement online. My previous Master is a member of a few sites and even has his own sites that he uses to display his property. The following was the first and only advertisement ever allowed on his site because it was to his personal benefit. This is the advertisement.
For Sale: One owner, unique high end toy for the person who has almost everything.
Hi, my name is four. My street name is Bella, but that’s just a name that works well when I’m out in town with my master. At home, I’m called four by my master and the others. Actually, it’s a number, not a name. In fact, I may as well admit right away that the number is tattooed on the upper slope of my left breast, but I prefer to think of myself as ‘four’ even though master explained that a number is what his slaves have, not real names like free people. Just so you know, Master has allowed me to spell my name when I write it although I’m not allowed to capitalize the ‘f’. It was his gift to me on my 30th birthday.
The reason I’m writing this advertisement is that Master and I are soon to part ways. I’ve been his slave for 7 wonderful years but the time has come for me to find a new home. We’ve talked a lot about it and I can see that I’m no longer able to hold his interest like I was once able to. Now that he has 6, I’m really not needed either. Master says that when you look at me and 6 side by side, it’s like looking at a 1957 Chevrolet next to a 2009 Camiro. They’re both really great but the Chevy just doesn’t have the same lines.
Master liked my suggestion that I find a new home for myself rather than him having to, but being my Master, he wants to control how I go about it. I think I can still surprise him with a monetary gift when I sell myself yet I worry that no matter how hard I try, it’s not going to be enough. A low price would insult him and make him angry with me, so I beg that only serious bidders read on.
I understand that ‘slavery’ is illegal and I agree that the ‘international slave trade’ should be put out of business, but I’m a willing participant so I don’t think of myself as ‘forced’ or ‘coerced’. As such, I’m free to give up my rights to my Master and I’ll willingly give up all rights to whoever gifts my Master with the highest dollar amount. Although I use the word ?slave?, that is my choice of words, since we live in a free society. Whoever buys my services may only want me as a model or as a servant and it’s my choice to give away any monetary gain for my time, so it’s not prostitution either. They may put me to work or they may retire me. So if you’re in the market for a trained female slave, or even an above average looking woman to do your office work, please read on.
This is my personal resume;
Name: Four Gender: Female Age: 31 Height: 5’8? Weight: 112lb Ethnicity: American Indian/Dutch Measurements: 36/22/34 Hair: Blond, straight, 27? long Tattoos/Piercings: 2? tall #4 tattooed on left breast, Nipples (12g, both), 1 septum (18g), 1clitoris and ears (5 each side)
Medical: Teeth /gums/eyes and ears all in excellent condition. No diseases andfully functional reproductive system
Fitness: 3 miles on a treadmill in 3? heels in 36 minutes Education: 2 yrs College (Art Administration) Special Ed: Runway Model from 2000-200212-week pony-girl training at La Roche, France 2003
Bondage and Torture studies assistant/model, 2005-2008
Family: Mother (currently residing as a slave in California)About me (and those around me)
I became a slave in October 2003 after Master found me in a nightclub trying to purchase ecstasy. He wasn’t very happy that someone would seek out narcotics and I ultimately paid a price for my efforts. I have not touched any sort of drug in the last 7 years. Before I met my Master, I’d played with the BSDM scene (it was hard to avoid it with a parent who has always been an open, full-time slave.) Master found me to be very eager once he’d overcome my willful side and it’s true; once I’d truly submitted to him, I felt freer than I’ve ever felt before. I’ve learned that I’m happier with someone who knows how to control a female and give her what she needs, be it pleasure or pain.
I’ve been used as a prostitute (to help me understand the difference between love and sex), I’ve been loaned to Master’s friends and associates (with glowing testimonials), I am experienced with lesbianism, water sports, bondage, torture, group sex and humiliation training. I’ve even been mated to an animal as a punishment for being self-centered. I have exhibitionistic tendencies and have been arrested once for public nudity (Master got that charge dropped so I do not have a criminal record). I have not been allowed alcohol in 12 months after I got drunk one night and became needy in front of his friends.
I live with Master and his newest slave who he calls 6, on a farm in the Ohio Valley. Master’s new slave is only 21 years old and in only 5 months, has already taken my place chained at the foot of Master’s bed while I have to remain caged in the kitchen. Occasionally Master will give me a pity fuck but mostly I’m at the service of his farm manager and house staff, who I work for on a daily basis, feeding the horses, cleaning their stalls and moving feed. I have served my Master well and can obtain a letter from him to that effect upon request. When I joined Master he had two slaves, called 1 and 3. I never found out what happened to 2, but 1 had to be put into a rest home not long after I arrived there. It was 3 that told me 1 was Master’s own grandmother but I don’t know if that was true or not. She was really old, like nearly 80 I think, but she could still do a great job sucking cock even though she needed a walker to get around. I could tell Master was truly broken up when she passed away in 2007. When 3 left in 2006, Master and I were both surprised. She just up and left in the middle of the night without a word. That’s when Master decided to give his slaves a sort of trust fund of $100,000 that they could only redeem when they left with his blessing. Oh, and he began securing us for the night, which made no difference to me at the time since I was on a comfy blanket at the foot of his big bed each night anyway. The other slave that Master had, he called 5, and she only stayed with us for a short while. It was Master’s first foray into web-based bdsm. The female he chatted to online wanted to be his slave in the worst way, so he paid for her to come to the States from Russia, sorted out her visa and everything, then by the end of the sixth week with her, he found that she was willing to be his slave for no other reason than the fact that it got her out of Russia. Imagine putting up with a solid week of punishment not because you enjoyed the challenge, but because you hated your homeland so much. Well obviously Master gave her money and sent her on her way. That’s not the sort of slave he wants. Now 6 was Master’s second dip into the online scene and 6 is everything 5 wasn’t. She isn’t docile, which provides Master with an ongoing challenge, but when she submits to him, I have to admit that she seems to be able to pleasure him more readily than I have in quite some time. Gosh, when Master tells 6 to pleasure me for his enjoyment, I can hardly stand it. She is certainly very talented in oral sex. All this extra information was included at Master’s request, because he thought it would be good for people to understand that I’m a social animal, able to get along fairly well with others.
That brings me to me. I’m not a slacker. You wouldn’t have birch me to get me to swallow or spread my cheeks for anal sex. I’m just as versatile as 6 but obviously I’m older. Maybe my pussy doesn’t grip Master’s cock like it once did, but I can take a double-fisting in either or both orifices if that’s required of me. Try that with 6 and she passes out every time. But Master has lost interest in me somewhat so it’s time to find a suitable home for myself. One, Master offered me the opportunity to go back to regular society and leave behind my current life; I could track down my father, who might take me in as his slave, but he was never interested enough after breeding my mother to even see me when I was born, so I doubt he’d want another mouth to feed now. That leaves me limited options for finding myself a new home and the idea of being sold quite excites me. I’d rather be put up for sale at a slave auction, but I’m in Ohio and there aren’t many of those around here, so I’m looking for a Master who has enough worldly possessions already, yet who wants something that those around him (or her) don’t and can’t have. By asking a price of $250,000 to get the ball rolling, I can be assured that my new Master is serious enough to be spending their money on something they can truly appreciate. I’d be theirs to do with as they pleased, to dispose of as they see fit. If their fantasy is to end my life, then they have paid well for the privilege. If they want to test my limits, I will have no say in the matter. If they want to use my body for profit, it would be their choice. Such an opportunity does not come along every day and whoever puts down a good faith payment of $10,000 will receive pictures of me in any form they desire. My Master has put together quite a few albums over the years of pictures that show my training is all its varied facets; picture he could not even post on his websites. The online auction is to start on 1 November 2010 and run for a week. It will be a no-reserve auction so if you want to start low to gauge interest, that would be acceptable.
It seems that a starting bid of $250,000 mentioned was too ambitious. The starting bid was actually only $100 and that stayed the top bid for 2 days. It was a little humiliating to think I could be sold for just one denomination of US currency and I admit that I was upset for a short while that Master had made me add the last sentence to my advertisement. I quickly got over it though, realizing that I’m worth what I’m worth and what Master wanted was all that mattered. All of us gathered around the big screen television that master had hooked to his computer, to watch the final bidding. There were 3 players and we watched in excitement as the selling price got higher and higher. Just like what I’d heard happens on Ebay, a new bidder came in at the last moment and trumped the others. My final selling price, the price of owning a human female, well that worked out to be $37,500 plus shipping. I was excited and dismayed both at the same time. My pride told me I was worth more than that and it wasn’t even half as much as the trust fund my Master had set aside for me, but there was a sense of achievement that a slave had successfully sold herself. Master wasn’t all that pleased either. He was disappointed that I didn’t fetch a higher value, not because he needed the money, but because he’d placed my net worth at substantially more than $37,500. His car cost more than I’d sold for. He even mentioned something about my wardrobe being worth more than the wearer. I was punished for not doing a better job of selling myself. He was right too. I realize now that if I’d just kept the advertisement short and to the point, more people would have read the whole thing. Master gets over 10,000 hits a day on his websites so I should have easily been able to fetch a half million. My new Master likes it when I write, but hates it when I talk, so he instructed me to write about my sale and everything leading up to my first official unveiling as his property, which was of itself a wild story.
I was kneeling next to 6, one of us on either side of our Master as he sat in his favorite chair watching the final value on the screen. Master silently sat there for probably 2 minutes, just looking at the number. It felt more like 2 hours to me. I looked over to 6 and saw that there was a lot going on in her mind too. A hint of a smile told me she was glad to be Master’s only slave now. A dampness at the corner of her eyes suggested that she understood what that dollar amount meant to me. Although 6 is many things, including immature at times, we really were pretty close as friends.
Suddenly Master clapped his hands together quickly, 4 times. That meant one of his slaves was due for punishment. Although it could have been either of us, in this instance I knew it wasn’t going to be 6. In any case, we both immediately sprang to our feet and ran to the far wall. We stood straight, with our chests thrust out, facing it with our hands behind our heads, which was designed to stretch the chain connecting our nipple rings to our clit rings as a reminder that one of us had failed our Master. When Master approached us, he took a moment to look at us as he always did. We were dressed identically apart from color, in business suits since we’d been in a ‘business’ meeting. We each had 3? pumps on, skirts to just above the knee and white blouses beneath our jackets. Our hair was coiffed. As usual we wore no underwear since that was only for outside the house. Master reached around me and grabbed my blouse at stomach level, knowing he’d captured the chain as well. It hurt when he stretched my piercings but I remained silent. He then did it to 6 and she let out an involuntary yelp. As I said before, she has a long way to go. Master released 6, slapped her on her butt and told her to shush.
When Master spoke his instructions, it was all I could do to remain standing. My legs began trembling so badly and I just wanted to start crying when Master told us that it would be 6 whipping me and not him. A whip freaking hurts, no matter who uses it, but I was to be whipped not by my soon-to-be ex Master but by a slave. A young slave who didn’t know the proper way to do most things yet, much less efficiently handle a whip. My status had just been reduced once again. As was his custom, Master explained why I was to be whipped. I already covered that part. He also explained why 6 was to be the one to do it. Master said that if I was only worth $37,500, I wasn’t worth the effort to discipline personally. I couldn’t help letting a single sob escape because I agreed with him. His only concession to my safety was an instruction for 6 to avoid anything from my neck up when she carried out her assignment. Master asked if I felt I needed to be restrained and I knew that this time I would have to be, just to stop me collapsing from the stress before 6 had finished. Master’s final instruction was to cuff my wrists overhead, which substantially increased the pressure on my piercings, but that I would remain dressed as I was. If 6 ruined my outfit, it no longer mattered. Once I was in place, 6 began my punishment. The whip was more of a tickle through my clothes than anything, but she more than made up for lack of effect when she started on my thighs and calves. For an inexperienced female, she could sure lay them on hard. I was bawling long before she finished.
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