Eleanor Hargrove was a twenty-three-year-old secretary from 1967 Chicago. She had long chestnut hair, bright hazel eyes, and a curvy 1950s-60s figure — full breasts, narrow waist, and wide hips that filled out her pencil skirts beautifully. She was adventurous for her time, secretly reading scandalous books and dreaming of more than typing letters and marrying a boring accountant.
One rainy night, while walking home through an old alley, she discovered a strange glowing archway behind a demolished building. Curious and a little tipsy from cheap wine, she stepped through it.
The world twisted.
When she opened her eyes, she was lying naked on cold metal flooring in what looked like a futuristic laboratory. The year was 2030.
A tall, powerfully built man in a black uniform stood over her. His name was Master Darius Kane — a wealthy man who owned one of the last private Gorean compounds on Earth.
“Welcome, girl,” he said in a deep, commanding voice. “You are no longer in your time. You are now property.”
Eleanor tried to cover herself, but two guards quickly restrained her. She was scanned, injected with translators and fertility blockers, and taken to the Training Center.
The First Days – Breaking the Free Woman
For the first week, Eleanor fought like a wildcat.
She was kept naked at all times. A heavy steel collar was locked around her throat with the word “Kajira” engraved on it. Her wrists and ankles were fitted with slave cuffs.
“You are no longer Eleanor,” Master Darius told her during her first lesson. “You are now kajira. You will speak of yourself only in third person. You will call me Master. Your only purpose is to please men with your body and obedience.”
When she cursed at him, she was punished.
They put her in the cage. Then came the whipping. Not brutal enough to scar her beautiful skin permanently, but hard enough to make her sob and scream. After the whipping, Master Darius fucked her for the first time.
He bent her over a punishment bench, still red from the lash, and drove his thick cock into her tight 1960s pussy in one powerful thrust.
“No! Please!” Eleanor begged.
But her body betrayed her. She was soaking wet.
Master Darius fucked her mercilessly, gripping her hips as he pounded deep. “This cunt now belongs to me,” he growled, slapping her ass hard with every thrust.
Eleanor came hard against her will, screaming as her first orgasm as a slave ripped through her body.
From that moment, the training became intense.
Kajira Training – 2030 Style
They taught her the positions.
Nadu — kneeling with thighs spread wide, back straight, breasts thrust out, palms up on her thighs.
Tower — kneeling with knees together, more elegant and modest.
Sula — lying on her back, legs spread, ready to be used.
Bracelets — wrists crossed behind her back, offering herself for binding.
Every morning she was oiled until her skin glowed. Her pussy was kept completely shaved. Her nipples were pierced with small silver rings that jingled when she moved.
The trainers used her constantly.
She was taught how to suck cock with perfect technique — deepthroating, swirling her tongue, looking up submissively at her user. She learned to ride cock in every position, how to milk a man with her pussy, and how to beg beautifully for cum.
At night she slept chained at the foot of Master Darius’s bed.
One evening, after three weeks of training, Master Darius decided it was time.
He took her to the Great Hall where other Masters and their kajirae gathered. Eleanor — now called only “kajira” or “red” because of the way her face flushed when aroused — was put on display.
She performed the Dance of the Kajira — a sensual, erotic dance designed to drive men wild. Her hips rolled, her full breasts bounced, and her hands moved over her body as if begging to be touched.
When the dance ended, Master Darius commanded her:
“Present.”
Eleanor dropped into Nadu, thighs spread obscenely wide, showing her glistening pussy to the entire room.
“Master,” she whispered, voice trembling with shame and need, “this kajira begs to be fucked.”
The Full Use
Master Darius took her right there in front of everyone.
He fucked her in the center of the hall in multiple Kama Sutra-inspired positions, mixing modern dominance with classic Gorean use.
First in Missionary, pinning her wrists above her head while driving deep. Then he flipped her into Dog style, pounding her from behind while pulling her hair.
“Say it,” he commanded.
“This kajira’s cunt belongs to her Master!” she cried out as she came again.
He finished by making her ride him in Cowgirl, her heavy breasts bouncing as she impaled herself desperately on his thick cock until he flooded her womb with hot cum.
But he wasn’t done.
He invited two of his closest friends to use her that night.
Eleanor was put on all fours. One man used her mouth while another fucked her pussy. Master Darius watched with satisfaction as his new kajira was double-teamed, her eyes rolling back in helpless pleasure.
They rotated through all her holes. By the end of the night, she was covered in cum — dripping from her pussy, ass, and breasts.
She had become a true kajira.
Life as a Kajira in 2030
Months passed.
Eleanor fully surrendered. The fiery 1960s woman was gone. In her place was a perfectly trained pleasure slave who lived for her Master’s pleasure.
Every morning she woke Master Darius with her mouth. She served his meals on her knees. She was fucked multiple times a day — sometimes gently and lovingly, sometimes brutally and without mercy.
She learned to love the collar. She loved the feeling of being owned.
One night, Master Darius chained her wrists to the ceiling and whipped her lightly before fucking her ass for the first time. Eleanor screamed in pain and pleasure as he claimed her final hole, filling her with cum while she hung helplessly.
“I am your kajira, Master,” she sobbed happily. “This girl exists only for your pleasure.”
Final Scene
On the anniversary of her arrival through the portal, Master Darius threw a grand feast.
Eleanor was displayed as the centerpiece — bound beautifully in red silk ropes, legs spread wide on a raised platform. Guest after guest was allowed to use her mouth while Master Darius fucked her pussy.
She came countless times, lost in total submission and ecstasy.
As the night ended, Master Darius kissed her forehead tenderly.
“You are the finest kajira I have ever owned,” he whispered.
Eleanor, once a free woman from 1967, smiled with complete devotion and answered:
“Thank you, Master. This kajira is yours forever.”
