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Author’s note: This part is mostly set-up and introduction. If you just want to get to the juicy stuff, that’ll start with chapter 1.
The movement for sexual liberation for all began in the twentieth century, but It only truly caught fire in the twenty-first. Where sodomy laws had been abolished in the twentieth, the new century saw the recognition of marriage as a purely religious institution, separate from legal unions that were made available to everyone of any gender or number who desired them. As the movement for greater freedom spread, it was eventually determined in the mid-2050s that since an individual’s body was his or her own, it could be bought and sold freely, even with the condition that the seller lost the right to change his or her mind. It was the rise of a new wave of slavery.
Initially, many feared that this would be used to recruit cheap labor, but such a thing never materialized. Virtually all workers, no matter how poor, wanted far more than minimum wage for work they could not walk away from until their contracts were up.
Instead, the new slaves were playthings for the wealthy. Young men and women, fresh out of high school at the age of 18, were allowed to sign contracts with slave dealers to be trained and sold to the super rich. While there were no requirements for what the contracts could and could not specify, some things became standard practice for such contracts: Typically, the slaves were to be owned for 20 years after their sale, were to be sterilized before beginning service (albeit by a method that was easily reversible if their owner desired a free child by them), were not to be harmed in any way which would be likely to greatly shorten their lives or leave them permanently disfigured after their service ended (although, with the medical technology available to the elites, this was not much of a limitation), were to be immunized against all known STDs, and 70% of the money from their sale was to be set aside in a trust fund for when they were finally released (while it varied from slave to slave this was typically in the tens of millions of dollars).
Within a few months of the first slave being sold the industry was further revolutionized by two new developments: the company SlaveWatch began work with slave dealers to implant tracking chips next to the spines of slaves, where they would be all but impossible to remove and would remain active until remotely deactivated by a computerized system upon completion of their contracts, and the approval of the chemical Lynodon on human subjects. The drug, already having established a small market among pets and livestock, had two effects on any skin it touched: It permanently removed all hair, and increased the healing capacity of the skin so that scarring almost never occurred, giving the owners even more leeway with how they could physically abuse their slaves. Almost immediately it became standard practice to have all slaves “chipped and dipped” up to the neck, although a few were submersed entirely or not submersed at all for niche markets. It is now 2083.
Introduction
I looked across the table at Ivy as she talked. Her perfect breasts bobbed up and down, her hairless hips and pussy swayed side-to-side, and her bowl-cut white hair swayed in front of her eyes. The hair wasn’t died, my parents experimented with several different colors, and when they settled on white they had it altered at the roots. I was so hard I could barely focus on what she was saying, but I could hear it enough to be angry. I was being denied again.
When the slavery laws were passed my parents had been the first in line. Within twenty-four hours of the announcement they had paid the first slave company, Super Slavers, a huge advance to insure they were able to bid on the very first class of slaves to complete training. And three months later, when basic slave training was complete, they had Willa, their first slave. I barely remembered her, but twenty years later she was freed and they got Ivy. I had only been 10, she was 18. But she was beautiful. Like most slave owners, my parents kept her perpetually naked except for shoes outdoor and heavy clothes in the winter. While they had gotten her before chipping and dipping started, they promptly arranged the procedures. And every night, while I lied awake in bed, I could hear all three of them crying out, them in ecstasy and her in a mixture of pleasure and pain, from down the hall through the dungeon door, that I was not allowed to pass through.
I was in agony when my parents died in a car crash four years later, but deep down I guiltily took some pleasure in knowing the slave girl would be mine now. I soon found out that wasn’t the case, though. I was only 14, and while I technically own the entire estate including Ivy, it was under the guardianship of the trustee. Ivy was the trustee. What infuriated me even more was that she chose to continue to honor her position as the estate slave by remaining naked and staying in peak shape, even as she served no one and acted as my guardian. Every night I would plot my revenge for my eighteenth birthday, while crying and whacking off to the thought of her.
Now my eighteenth birthday was here, me still a virgin, and Ivy a 26 year old beauty who I would love to finally have my way with, and I was being told there was another clause in the will: If they died, Ivy’s contract length was changed from twenty years to “until my eighteenth birthday.” Apparently my parents felt there was something wrong about me using their slave, and now Ivy could walk away with all the money.
“That blows,” I turned my head to Tom, who sat beside me. He was my closest friend, from a family almost as rich as mine. He had recently turned eighteen, and his father had bought him his first slave: Sarah, a skinny, if a bit flat-chested, girl from the local public school with curly blonde hair and an adorable smile and slightly larger than average lips. She stood next to him, keeping her eyes focused down. He had offered her to me, but I had wanted my first to be Ivy, as my slave.
“Yeah, you kind of get away with everything,” I said.
“Well, yes Ryan, I suppose I do. But, I do have an offer for you.” She laid the piece of paper she was holding on the table, and spun it around to face me. It was another contract, with her signature already affixed and a line for mine. For a moment, I was excited, but then I began to read.
“…partial servitude. What does that mean?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s a situation where some of the conditions of slavery are met, but not all. First off, I won’t be naked. You get to dress me, and it can be scantily if you want, but my pussy, nipples, and ass crack and cheeks must be covered.”
“So, no thongs?” I asked.
“No exposed thongs. If you want me to wear one underneath just to make me uncomfortable you can.”
“And if I make you so uncomfortable that you can’t stand to keep the clothes on.”
She paused a moment. “Then I take them off and you get me naked. But, just so you know, you can’t make me wear anything that would maim me or be humanly impossible to wear.”
I smiled, pervertedly. “I think I can handle that.”
“Secondly, you’re limited on punishing me to twenty lashes per day. And they don’t roll over.”
“So I could just keep you around to give twenty licks to a day?”
“Yes, you could, but not if you want any obedience, since once those are gone you can’t touch me. Instead, if you really want revenge for me never being your slave, I’d recommend you give me ten a day and hold the other ten in reserve.”
“I can do that.”
“Finally, there’s the matter of price and duration. This will cost you three million dollars, and will last either a year or until you perform a sexual act with me. Just so you know, though, if you do so my freedom doesn’t take effect until the next morning, and in the mean-time my status is reduced to the same as a slave, so if you want to fuck, beat, and humiliate me during that time, you can.”
“What sort of legal mumbo-jumbo led to that stipulation?” Tom asked.
“It wasn’t a standard part of the contract, I had it added in.”
“Why?” I asked.
She sighed. “Because, I want that money, and I figured that making your fantasy the thing that ends my time here would insure I’m not here much longer.”
“So I could just take you to bed tonight?” I asked.
“Well, tomorrow night, or tomorrow day. Before midnight tonight you’re still 17, so I’m your guardian slave. After midnight tonight, if you sign it, I am your servant, but you wouldn’t get a full night, because tomorrow’s sunrise would free me. If you took me tomorrow or early tomorrow night, youd have a lot longer.
“I don’t think my parents would have been happy about this. They set up the will the way they did to keep me from having sex with you.”
She shrugged. “And so, I haven’t let you. But, my duty to them ends at midnight, and then I’m looking for the next big paycheck.”
I smiled, reached for the pen on the table, and moved to sign…then I paused “…but, you do think I should fuck you tomorrow?”
“Well, it would get me out of here faster, but it would also be a huge waste to not accomplish anything for that amount of money other than to get a rich birthday boy’s rocks off.”
“What do you suggest, then?”
“I could help you build your harem. We both know you’re going to want slaves of your own. I can help you pick the ones that are right for you, and get the best deals.”
“…and when I have them I fuck you?”
“Yep.”
I signed the contract, she picked it up and took it over to the wall terminal to scan into the house computer, and forward to city hall. Then she came back over. I looked at my watch. 11:37 PM.
“Ready for my suggestions?”
“Make this good,” I said, or the instant the sun rises ,you have a dozen studded dildos in you.
She laughed. “You really are your father’s sun. You need four slaves, for starters. I have no doubt you’ll find more later, just for fucking, but I assure you you won’t be satisfied with less than four.”
“Why four?” I asked.
“Because that’ll get all the bases of things you want to do with slaves covered. First, you’ll need a maid. For that, I recommend basic slave training. They do a special course for slave maids that lasts an extra three months, but the truth is that’s just money gouging. Any slave who’s gotten through her three months can take care of a house, even a mansion like this. Especially if you just leave the doors to all the rooms you don’t used closed.”
I nodded, approvingly. I knew I was messy, although due to Ivy’s handiwork that wasn’t obvious.
“Next, you’ll want a puppygirl slave.”
I felt a rush of panic. “Don’t you mean doggiegirl?”
She looked confused a moment, then let out another laugh. “No, no, no. Don’t worry, no minors. No one who couldn’t agree to it. You see, what happens is that a lot of times bitchslaves and muttslaves are the most naturally submissive of all slaves. So, their owners will get together, and have them de-sterilized, and they’ll give birth. The child is free, just like every other child born to a slave, or anyone else for that matter. However, with the parent’s enslaved, as soon as the baby is off breast milk, the owners become his or her legal guardians, and raise the child like their own. Oftentimes they’ll do this twice, or use fertility drugs to get twins. One for each owner. If the child wants to get on with life, so be it. If, however, they prove to be naturally submissive, or like the idea of being a doggieslave, when they’re 18 they can sign a contract to be a “bred puppyslave.” This comes with extra prestige and extra money, and the owner typically sells them and gets to keep a “breeders fee.” Granted, there are cases in which the owner may influence their decisions, but child welfare services typically watch children of doggieslaves like a hawk, so if you know what you’re looking for, you can find a case where it was all for the right reasons.
“Ah. And so, why would that be perfect for me?”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “Because, you may not like to admit it, but you really need some gentleness in your life, and I assure you a puppyslave girl will be the most gentle companion you will ever have.”
I must have blushed, because I heard Tom snicker. Looking over, I almost thought I caught a hint of a smile from Sarah, although she hid it quickly. I looked back to Ivy. “Ok, and the third.”
“That’s a ponygirl.”
I looked confused. “Why would I want a ponygirl?” I had never shown interest in them that I could remember. At least no more so than any other class of slaves. Although we did have some old abandoned stables where my Dad had kept his horses. But, I hadn’t wanted them, so Ivy sold them off four years ago.
“Well, normal ponygirls you wouldn’t, but this is a special class. They’re called Quarter Horses, because they’re contracts are for five years instead of twenty.” She laughed at the clearly unfunny joke. “Basically, when rich kids are too stuck up, and even the parents can’t stand them, then they threaten to disinherit them unless they go through the Quarter Horse program. They cost a lot more because of the prestige and the thrill of owning one, and their training is separate from regular ponyslaves. They go through the same basic process: three months basic slave training, and six months ponyslave training, but they’re a lot softer on them than in regular training. They build up the physical strength, speed, and endurance of a ponygirl, but they don’t hit them every time they disobey, so they think they can get away with a certain amount of insolence, right up to sale day. They’re broken enough to obey about 90 percent of commands on the first command without cropping, but they whine in plain English about sixty percent of them.”
“Why would anyone want an insolent slave? For that matter, who wants a ponyslave who doesn’t know she’s not allowed to speak at all?”
“That’s where the thrill part comes in. They left them as partially broken brats so that the buyers can beat it out of them. You’re buying a bratty, annoying bitch who you can put in her place.”
I burst out laughing. “You really do know me. So, the last one’s my sex slave, right?”
“Actually, no, the last one’s your horse trainer slave. It’s usually not wise to trust ponyslaves to hired help. They haven’t been training in proper loyalty. You don’t know how to handle ponyslaves, and even if you did I don’t think you’d want to go through the trouble of the parts other than beating the insolence out of them. Technically you could get a partial servant to do it, but I’m guessing that if there’s another attractive young person working on your property, you’d prefer it were a naked female who belonged entirely to you. We can buy a few regular horses to keep her busy to. She can also dictate to the grounds keeping service whenever they come over. And make sure they stay far away from your mare.”
I looked at her confused. “Ok, and what about my sex slave.”
She chuckled. “You have free access to all four, on demand. That’s why they’re slaves.”
“Yes, but I wanted one to share my bed.”
She chuckled. “You get that, and she’ll get bored quick. Instead, you make it a competition.”
“A competition?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “The ponygirl’s out, it would defeat her purpose, but between the puppygirl, the maid, and the horse training, the most loyal slave every night gets to share your bed. Think about it: The maid will be taking over my old quarters, and my cot. The horse training will have another cot down in that cabin next to the horse stables where your father’s horse trainer lived. They’d both jump at the chance to sleep in a normal bed. The puppygirl, as much as she might love being a puppy, will appreciate the chance to make love like a real woman again for a few hours, not to mention getting off that mat.”
I let out a huge burst of laughter, just as the clock chimed Midnight. “I love it! It’s perfect!”
To be continued…
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