Slavery in our Time

Slavery in our Time

Part 1 – Her Strange Fascination

Laura walked down the aisle gazing at all the merchandise around her. Since she was a child, Laura had always been fascinated with the selection of slaves at the department store.  Highclass was a superior department store and the quality of the slaves was high. Highclass offered a wide selection of quality slaves from domestics and nannies to gardeners and chefs. Slaves varied in price due to a number of factors such as age, health, experience, training and attractiveness. These were luxury items that only the upper crust of society could afford and Laura often fantasized about what it would be like to own one and, even more, what it would be like to be one.

As Laura walked down the aisle she found herself in the domestic section.  The majority of the domestics were women although around 10% were men.  Each slave was dressed basically the same, in National Slave Dress. For women, this meant an oversized five-buttoned cotton short sleeve shirt that went down to their knees – most shirts were white but a few were black - and their National Registered Slave Collar, a rounded ring of shiny steel with four D-rings.  This had been locked onto them by a computer-controlled locking device which made it irremovable, except by a long official procedure.  Each collar was fitted with a metal tag: “SLAVE FOR SALE”.  They were barefoot; their left leg was hooked to the floor by a metal chain and their neck was fastened to a horizontal pole above them by a chain clipped onto one of the D-rings. Being thus bound at both ends of their bodies, they could move at most two feet in any direction and were compelled to remain upright; slouching was not an option. The outfits, whether white or black, were plain and the slaves’ appearance was also undecorated.  All seemed aimed at eliminating a slave’s individuality and reducing him or her to her identity as slave.  Each of them was bound to a life of domestic servitude and obedience; all customers were interested in was their strength of body, some also in their sexual attractiveness, both of which were easily ascertained by examination.  Both were regarded as attributes of slave status, not of individuality, which was to be left behind at enslavement.

Laura seemed to be lost in her fantasy when she heard a familiar voice.

"Laura, is that you?"

Laura turned in the direction of the sound and saw her friend Stephanie. Stephanie and Laura were classmates at New Forest University. She was wearing a smart two piece grey skirt suit with a light black pinstripe, nude pantyhose and cute two-inch black trainers.  The suit complimented Stephanie's 5'8" frame and athletic build.  She wore her blond hair in a cute

French braid. "Hey Stephanie, what's up? Why are you so dressed up?"

"Believe it or not, I got a job here."

Laura was surprised, "Really? How do you get a job here? You do not have any experience selling slaves."

"Well I can't take too much credit," Stephanie smiled. "My father has a friend at the company and mentioned I was majoring in business. He put a word in and I was offered this position."

"Wow that is really cool. How has it been going?  I mean I’ve always been fascinated with this section of the store.  Since I was little girl I used to imagine what it would be like to buy my own housemaid, or even to be one.“  Laura seemed to drift off in her fantasy again.

"The job is great. It’s pretty easy. I get to work about an hour before we open and familiarize myself with the merchandise. Then I come onto the floor and talk to potential buyers.  I make £20/hour plus a 10% commission. When a buyer expresses interest in a particular slave, I have to take him or her into the Examination Room and, if the deal is completed, prepare the slave for transport.  Given that the average slave sells for around £25,000, there is a huge opportunity to make some great money."

"10% commission," Laura's eyes perked up. "That is some serious cash. Have you sold any slaves yet?"

"No not yet. I have been here about a week.  The other salespeople mentioned that in a good week you can sell up to four, but it is not that common.  I mean this merchandise is more expensive than most cars! Those kinds of decisions take time to make."

"Yea, I would imagine so."  Laura wandered around a couple of the slaves. "Do they talk much? I mean it seems like they should be nervous or something. I know I would be."

"They are not permitted to speak except when we require it of them, and, no, they do not really seem nervous. True to its name this is a high-class store and most of the merchandise have had years of training not only in the work itself but also in obedience.  This includes a lot of mental training, so that they come to accept that this is their lot in life.  Still, I am not sure how they remain so calm. I think it would be a bit scary to be on display, but they are treated well.  For every four hours they are standing we let them rest for an hour. They receive three meals a day and the holding pen is quite nice. Their silence is a bit tedious, even for me, but things liven up when a customer is interested in one of them and especially when the slave is taken into our Examination Room.”

“How are they examined?” asked Laura, who found herself fantasising again, and not a little aroused.  But she controlled herself so as to appear calm as Stephanie responded.

“That is kept as a secret and I could be in trouble if I told you about it.” 

“Oh, please”, Laura pleaded, “just a little bit of it – and you can trust me.”

Stephanie took her to one side and quietly whispered behind her hand, “OK then, but you must tell no one about it.  I shackle the slave’s wrists together behind his or her back with heavy steel and link her ankles with a heavy 15” steel chain.  Then I unhook her from the floor the ceiling pole and compel her into the Examination Room.  There I re-fasten her to the floor and to ceiling chains and then remove the shackles.  My boss says we have to shackle them any time we move them from one place to another. Theoretically it’s for security but really it’s to keep them constantly aware of their powerlessness and feeling the full weight of slavery.  Then the customer is invited to check the slave’s body for firm muscles, healthy teeth  - and whatever.”  Stephanie smiled knowingly and ran finger tips over her left breast as she said “whatever”.  “OH!” said Laura, you mean…?” touching both her breasts.  “And!…?” dropping her hand to touch an inner thigh with her finger tips.  Stephanie nodded.  And they are usually given a pain threshold test”

“Pain threshold?  What does that mean?” 

“Oh some little pressure on their bodies, or a taste of the whip.  Nothing too bad really but enough to see what they can stand without flinching or protesting.  They have to remain as still and silent as possible.”

“WOW!” said Laura, now finding herself really once more aroused, this time by images of a slave being outwardly stoic as she inwardly writhed at what was inflicted on her.

“Finally I chain them for their Transport.  And all the time they do not speak, nor are they spoken to.  They are simply objects for sale; the merchandising discussion is between me and the customer only.”

Laura had heard of the Slave Transport.  Like the Dress, Collar and heavy shackles, it was part of national policy, but unlike them it was officially secret; all that was said is that it was specially designed to plunge new slaves immediately into the reality of their new existence and to remind existing ones of their status.  All who administered it were sworn to secrecy, the result being that rumours about its rigour were rife, which was of course the intention.  “As bad as the Transport” was a saying that had passed into the language.

“And where do you get the slaves from?” Laura asked.

“Under the Establishment of Slavery Act of twenty years ago, the 1.5 % poorest people in the country were enslaved overnight so as to help the economy and make life better for the rest of us.  They are slaves and their children are born into slavery.  The children live in some ways quite a normal life, but they do not mix with free children and must attend separate Slave Schools in which they are educated about their status and taught the obedience they must give to their owners and the respect and submission which is due to free people generally.  Their academic work is limited to just the basics of the “Three R’s”.  Of course there is a strong practical emphasis on hard work and the completion of tasks so that there is no nine-year old slave who cannot cook, wash, sew, till the ground and carry loads appropriate to their size. 

“At five they are initiated into being Infant Slaves, the day on which they first wear a collar.  At eight they become Junior Slaves; this initiation includes the imposition of ankle cuffs and their first corporal punishment.  In the ceremony the caning is very slight but they soon learn that disobedience of any significance will be lead to an encounter with the real thing!  At eleven they become Senior Slaves, when the ceremony includes the imposition of a waist-belt with hooks and a first experience of restraint and suspension.  All the time they are being generally socialised by a mixture of stick and carrot, into becoming docile, hard-working and obedient slaves.  During this time they and their parents cannot be separated. 

“Their big day is when they are fifteen, when they must undergo initiation into Adult Slave status.  This involves introduction to the sexual aspect of slavery, as well as the full adult standards of hard work, obedience and punishment.  This is also the age when they can first be sold, which of course might mean separation from their parents, siblings and owner, though in practice that happens only in unusual circumstances.  It’s very much their big day and, odd though it may sound, it’s come to be regarded as a kind of graduation.  The government has devised it all very cleverly; there are tests to pass, tests of work, obedience, self-presentation and sexual technique – nothing very hard, but it is possible to fail.  Those who fail suffer quite a lot of ridicule, mainly from their peers, so everyone tries very hard to pass.”

There was much here Laura had not known.  She was a little shocked by the thought of small children being slaves but also very aroused by the idea of compulsory sexual initiation – whatever that might consist of – at the age of fifteen.  She imagined herself having to strip before a free boy and being compelled to let his hands wander over her body.

“Laura.  Are you with me?”

“Oh, er - yes Stephanie, just thinking about the initiation.”

This time Stephanie ignored her answer and went on: “Though slavery is in principle for life, slaves can be redeemed after twenty years in certain circumstances but it needs someone to provide a lot of money, which of course they are not permitted to accumulate themselves. 

“They come to us every time their owners wish to sell them.  There are liberally mind people who try to raise funds for freeing children at fourteen, the earliest age permissible, but release at that age is not very popular as that’s just the age when slaves start to become really valuable - not to say interesting, if you get my meaning”.  She smiled her suggestive smile again.  “This category is our biggest cargo. 

“Then there are those who have been sentenced to slavery as a punishment for serious crime; the judge gives a minimum term, say 20 years, within which they may not be liberated.  We expect that by that time very few will find anyone to buy freedom for an ex-criminal.  You can recognise them because they have to wear black National Slave Dress.  We get a steady stream of criminals.  There are statistics which, interestingly, indicate that a young woman is more likely to end up in slavery than an older one, for the same crime.

“Most interesting, however, is a new third category.  Believe it or not, there are people who volunteer to become slaves!  They have to wear red.  There’s not much research yet on what motivates people who do this, but preliminary findings suggest sexual fantasy is often a factor.  Whatever the reason, this group is now recognised by the state. 

“All they have to do is to come alone to a store which is licensed for the sale of slaves and declare they want to be a slave.  They are then put into their National Registered Slave Collar and their National Slave Dress.  They can change their mind up to the point at which they allow me to chain them to the floor and the pole.  Normally this is their last free act; once both locks have snapped shut and the collar has received its First Click they are told their moment of enslavement has come.  The First Click signifies a prospective sale, but it can be undone if necessary quite easily by anyone with access to the computer.  The slave then waits for purchase and it is only when their first owner has paid that I can give their National Registered Slave Collar its Second Click.  This makes the collar irremovable except by special court order (hence the expression “as permanent as two clicks”).  They are then not permitted to change their mind and must serve a minimum of 20 years – and only then if someone wants to provide the money that costs. 

“The government was pressured into adding the category of ‘Volunteer Slave’ to “Born Slave“ and ‘Criminal Slave’ by those who wanted to volunteer and by the interest some people in the wider population have who find the very idea that anyone should voluntarily give up their freedom and become a possession arousing.  So they have taken some steps to make it unattractive.  One is making their National Slave Dress colour red.  This makes them very conspicuous and whereas other slaves just fit into the background of the lives of the free majority, slaves dressed in red arouse interest wherever they go.  Just walking down the street can be quite an endurance test for them as it is legal to subject them, unlike the other two slave categories, to touching, poking and all kinds of suggestive remarks and questions.  It’s not allowed actually to attack them, but there is nothing to stop, say, a group of young men forcing a pretty red-dressed girl slave to stop for groping and arousal, even orgasm, though not intercourse, just there in the street - so long as no one under 16 is present.  So you can imagine that there are sixth form boys who dream of coming across a girl Volunteer Slave in a suitable location.  You rarely see one, however, as most owners want to keep them for themselves, but it can happen.

However, first, they do have a day on which they are able to claim they were acting under duress.  If they claim this, they are allowed to bring a case before a judge.  If anyone is found guilty of having put them under duress, for instance threatening them with a gun or blackmailing them or bringing them here by force, it’s a very serious crime and anyone found guilty of it might find themselves enslaved.  But to make a claim which is dismissed is regarded equally seriously, as shown by the especially severe punishment which is inflicted on them: they are branded “LIFE SLAVE”.  That means those words are burnt into their skin beneath their right breast and they will never taste freedom again. The person they wrongly accused can also choose three words to brand on their right or left arm, meaning that every time the slave looks at their arm there will be a reminder of the one they tried to blame, and his or her freedom.  Also, unlike ordinary slaves, for them there is an interesting special rule.  This provides that at no time can the body of a Life Slave be free of restraint.  Awake or asleep, working or resting, there must always be some physical restriction imposed.  It may be slight, like fastening two fingers together, or it may be severe, like a ball and chain, but there must always be something.  There are inspectors who check this and owners found to have permitted an unrestrained body can be fined. 

“So volunteering is a very serious step.  The state allows it but, as I said, has taken these measures to deter people from volunteering capriciously.  In practice, therefore, almost always, once a person has volunteered for slavery there is no turning back, only a lifetime of bondage, obedience  and, I guess, in many cases, bitter regret.

“Wow, that’s brutal!”  Laura was horrified, but at the same time consumed with a strange excitement about all she was hearing.  Imagine being harassed in the street and being powerless to stop it!  Imagine being branded!  Once again she drifted off into her fantasy while Stephanie spoke, in the end ceasing really to hear the words coming out of her mouth. This was so very different from anything she experienced in a typical day. Sure, slavery was legal, but the average citizen rarely experienced it first hand.  Only the wealthy and upper middle class could afford personal slaves.  Clearly there were slaves all around her, but they tended to do the low level service labour.  It was almost if they were non-existent.  Laura rarely even noticed them at the University and had no memory of ever seeing a slave dressed in red.

"Laura, Laura, you still with me?"

Laura was startled from her dream by Stephanie calling her name, "Uhm, yes, I am with you, Stephanie. Sorry I was just thinking about slavery, about being branded, about a whole life of being property. I mean there are slaves all around us and I hardly even notice them. It really makes me want to know what it must be like to be one of them."

Stephanie paused for a moment. "Well I am not sure; it seems kind of boring to me. They just stand around all day."

"You are looking at it from your perspective, not theirs. Clearly it looks really boring, but inwardly they must be terrified. I do not care how much you are trained to be a slave, it must be frightening to know they are only property and that their sole purpose in life is to please someone else."

"Maybe you’re right," Stephanie said, “maybe you are right!”  Suddenly a smile came to her face. "Hey! I have an idea."

"What?" Laura looked Stephanie a little suspiciously.

"Listen Laura, why don't we try a little experiment."

"What kind of experiment?"

"Laura this is going to sound crazy, but hear me out. We could dress you up as one of the slaves and put you on display."

Laura interrupted, "Are you mad?"

"Listen, it would be easy. I could get you prepared in the back and put you on display.  There are five hours left before we close. We could put you on display until the end of the day."  Stephanie was getting quite excited by the idea.

Sceptical, Laura said, "Look, it sounds exciting, but I do not want to be sold, I do not want to see the inside of that Examination Room, and certainly not the inside of the Slave Transport."

"You won't be sold, Laura, and I can keep you out of the Room.  We do not have specs on you and I will mention to any buyer that you are on layaway and not able to be purchased, but you would still experience what it felt like to be a slave.  There is no risk.  I mean in reality we only sell three or four slaves per day in the entire store.  We could even pair this up for our sociology class.  You know we need to do an experiment.  Wow, this would be a guaranteed A!"

Laura's interest seemed to peak up a bit, "You’re sure there is no risk. We are not going to get into trouble?"

"I promise there is no risk and we will not get into trouble. Everyone would just think you are a slave on sale. At the end of the day, we end the charade, you go home and we get an A on our sociology paper."

"Ok, let’s do it!"

"Great, come with me!" Laura followed Stephanie through a door that was set off to the side.  Once through the door, she noticed that the room was rather plain not like the display area. The floor was tiled and there were a few couches and a vending machine off to the side. As Laura got her bearings Stephanie spoke, "This is our staff break room. We should not be disturbed but we need to move quickly and you will need to do exactly what I tell you. I am not supposed to be on break for another two hours. Wait here, I will be right back."

Stephanie was only gone for a minute but it seemed like an eternity for Laura.  She kept going over things in her mind.  Was she really going to do this? This was crazy.  Slavery was not a game.  She felt the appeal but at the same time she also felt a bit guilty playing around, given that everyone on the floor outside was a real slave.  As her mind wandered, Stephanie walked back into the room. "Okay Laura, STRIP!."

"What?" Laura asked startled by the order.

"Laura, we do not have much time and you will get changed.  Here, put this on." Stephanie handed Laura one the over-sized shirts that the slaves were wearing outside. Laura hesitated for a moment but then began to slip out of her clothes. First she removed her black skirt sliding it down her legs.  This revealed her dark blue tights and the bottom of her blue cotton blouse. Next came the blouse and then Laura was standing in front of Stephanie in just her floral bra and panty set, blue tights and cute black ‘Mary Jane’-style shoes.  Stephanie had decided that giving her a taste of being an ‘object’ was going to be essential to Laura’s experience, so she did not look away but instead stared intently, taking in the fullness of her shape: the curves of her 36C breasts, the slimness of her 22” waist, the elegance of her 34” hips, the fold between her thighs and her well-formed legs.  She did her best to give the impression that she was assessing her.  This made Laura blush, but she continued removing her clothes next by slipping out of her shoes and then sliding her tights down her legs.  Once the tights were off, Laura reached for the shirt.

"STOP!," Stephanie said.

"What?" Laura looked confused.

"Put these on!" Stephanie handed Laura a very plain white bra and panty set. "Slaves are not permitted nice underwear like this. You are to look like a slave and be treated like a slave." Laura appeared rattled and alarmed. She was fairly shy and was reluctant to strip naked in front of Stephanie; also she did not like the peremptory tone Stephanie had now adopted.  Stephanie relaxed her style for a moment, lulling Laura into a moment of security by saying, "Hey Laura, it is just us girls."

Laura removed her bra and panties.  Stephanie smirked a bit when, looking intently at her bush she saw that that Laura was indeed a real red head, her trimmed pubes contrasting with her fair skin. Laura blushed again and quickly put on the simple white bra and panty set.  Once covered again, she relaxed for a second before sliding on the white shift.

“STAND UPRIGHT AND DO NOT MOVE!”, Stephanie commanded.  She then went over to a computer and typed in Laura’s name.  There would not be a spec but there needed to be an entry so that a collar could be issued.  Then she opened a safe and took out a slave collar, the same shiny steel, the same D-rings and the same tag “SLAVE FOR SALE”.  She also set running a camera on the wall. “I have to do that when placing a collar on a volunteer slave” she said, “though in this case it will be for both of us to use to get our Sociology ‘A’ grade.  She then placed it, not yet closed, around Laura’s neck. 

When Laura felt the collar a surge of sexual desire and arousal travelled though her body and she began to pant, to take in the fast deep breaths of excitement.  At such moments one will do anything.

“Laura,” said Stephanie, “I have to ask you formally: are you willing to go ahead with this?  Will you consent to wearing the collar of a slave?”

“Oh yes, Stephanie, I am!  I will!  Let me feel the collar close around my neck!”  Stephanie shut the collar with a loud, ominous First Click, signifying she was a prospective sale, but was not irrevocable, being easily undoable by an authorised member of staff with access to the computer. 

Stephanie was amazed at by the transformation and stood looking at Laura fixing her in the eye for a minute or two.  Now it was Stephanie who felt arousal, the arousal of one who, for the first time, has a new ‘slave’ in her power.  She smiled a brief cruel, suggestive smile, as Laura gradually calmed down. 

“Oh Stephanie, what have I done?” 

“SLAVE”, said Stephanie, addressing her thus for the first time, “you are about to find out!”  Rarely was a truer word spoken.

Laura shivered, excited still but also afraid, for now, other than for a bit of makeup, she looked just like any other slave on the merchandise floor, except of course for her superior beauty.  Stephanie walked over to Laura and handed her a face cleansing wipe. "SLAVE, REMOVE YOUR MAKEUP."

Laura took the wipe and carefully removed her blush and lipstick. With each wipe she felt a little bit more of her old self slipping away.  Stephanie walked over to Laura and put an earring into her ear.  Laura could feel something dangling down by her cheek.

Curious, Laura asked, "What did you did you place in my ear, Stephanie? I thought slaves were not supposed to wear jewellery."

"Its not jewellery, Slave, it’s your price tag. I thought £20,000 was an appropriate amount, seeing how young and sexy you are, as well as strong!  Altering her tone she continued, “Laura, normally, slaves would also have a bar code stamped on their wrist, but since you are not in our system that is not possible.  This will also guarantee that you are not accidentally sold since no one would be able to process you.  Now we need to get you onto the floor."  Laura seemed not to take this in for a second but her moment was interrupted by Stephanie,

"OK Slave, you are going out onto the floor. FOLLOW ME!"

Laura followed Stephanie out onto the main floor and the door closed behind her. The nice wood floor was cold against her bare feet as she walked nervously onto the floor. Stephanie led her into the middle of the domestic section. Before Laura had time to relax, Stephanie attached a chain to her left leg which was connected to a bolt in the floor and a chain from the pole above her to one of the four collar D-rings. "Stephanie, I am not so sure about this."

"Too late Laura, you are on display now to whoever comes in”, she said severely, but then relaxed her tone once more: “the store closes in four hours and I will be nearby. Nothing is going to happen to you."  The words were reassuring to Laura and she relaxed a bit as Stephanie walked off, leaving her there like any other slave.