Part 1

In a land three hundred years in the future where fossil fuel has been exhausted and the Green Revolutionary Army has smashed every Nuclear installation leaving the population unable to maintain their great cities or even feed themselves, where satellites are a memory and planes and automobiles almost extinct, where no steel or aluminum is produced or rubber, where in the Northern Confederation teams of operatives work treadmills to provide power when the photocells lack sunlight and the population is managed to match dwindling resources, and in the Southern States the Slavery laws see the Slaves toiling for up to eighty years in the fields while the Free Citizens are ruthlessly culled  as young as twenty five if they do not earn sufficient credits to match the Quota...

Louisa's Tale part One.

I was working at my needlecraft when the messenger arrived.

"Miss VanGelder, Sheriff LaMont  he say can you come please miss." Henry the ancient negro messenger requested.

I asked "Why Henry, what is it concerning?" and he looked troubled.

"I don't rightly know miss but he said get right along straight away, and he wants you to come right along."

He looked tired, "Have some wine" I suggested.

"No, Miss, us Slaves ain't allowed no alcohol as you rightly know miss."

"It will me that gets into trouble Henry. have some."  He seemed reluctant but I poured him a glass and he drank it with relish.

"I hope you will remember me in the fall," I told him, " I'm due for C in July, I'll look down on you I hope," I paused "I guess there won't be much chance of me getting a plum spot on Gods right hand but I stayed chaste and pure so I guess I might stand a chance of getting in." I joked, but he looked sad C, cullment, death it was all the same thing.

I saw a tear in his eye.  "It ain't fair miss, you done such good, teaching us Slaves reading and writing, it's so tough they decided to scrub religious leader cullment credits."

"Its God's will Henry, we can't change it, what will be, will be."

"But why miss?"

"Quota's Henry, remember, when the 94th President reintroduced slavery?"

"No, I never heard of it."

"Well, when the great disaster came, and all the folks were dying, they set up cullment, so the useful folks lived and the useless died."

"Yes Miss?"

"Well, the idea was that doctors and scientists lived and the bankers and politicians and unemployed manual workers were culled, but Senator Obama suggested they bring back slavery, at least in the southern states, that way blacks consumed a tiny fraction of the energy of whites, and they could survive outside in the pollution so any Negroes or anyone not pure bred Caucasian who could not escape to Africa could become slaves with a hundred year cullment credits, as long as they got their owner to sign they was still useful."

"So whites had twenty five years and credits for breeding and attainment and quotas and  a lot depends on the Confederation, how many credits they allow," I continued, " you do know we send food, and energy north, because in the Confederation they don't have segregated slavery, white folk can be slaves but their cullment age is much lower than ours they have white slaves," Henry looked like he thought I was joking,  "Henry they even have white whores, yes white whores Henry, think of that,"  I saw a smile cross Henry's face before being quickly stifled.

I thought with disgust of Mina our Negro town whore who they kept at the Court House, who spent her days lewdly enticing men to debauchery and sin, sitting with her sex organ on show, sometimes spread with her fingers and her titty mounds, even face and hair splattered with the ejaculations of me who used her, she even showed her sex to me and hummed hymn tunes as I passed, what use could such a person be to me?  I could never understand why she chose her life of debauchery over a life of honest toil in the fields or as a house slave,

"I set out to be a slave teacher, Henry, then they said no more slave schools, then I wanted to be a doctor and the quota was down, so they said cull the doctors, let the sick die if they can't work, and if first aid won't fix em up, you remember Henry." He nodded. "Then I wanted to study religion." I had to stop the words choked me.

I wiped my eyes and continued. "So I wanted to be a Preacher, bring god to everyone, then they said the role could be done by anyone, the credits were withdrawn."

He looked at me.

"You speak real fine when you lead our prayers Miss."

"But I know in my heart any simple honest man like you, could do every bit as well, Henry, I am useless, and it is right I should be culled."

"Why'd you never breed Miss"

"I wanted to do something with my life teach, heal people, preach religion, and to preach religion I had to be a virgin, it seemed more important than bringing children into the world.

"I got ten or more." he said

"Yes but they face full lives, forty years,"

"Ha forty, I'm eighty three miss"

My legs buckled and I grabbed the chair.

"I never realised." I said,

"Tom Chambers he never married, I thought you and he would be together?"

"So did he, but my mom said I was not pretty enough to keep him and I wanted to do religion." I remembered Tom's attention, right from school, he was near a year older, September against July, and we were in the same year group our teacher Miss Rawlings.

How we cried when they closed the school and she had to be culled.

I remembered little Tom's kisses, and the play fights, then he grew a snake and our fights became real, he pawed me relentlessly seeking the swellings on my chest, and the softness  between my legs, and finally My father told his father to keep him away after he ripped at my clothes pawing at me as I tried desperately to keep my knees tightly together to save my maidenhood, and I had succeeded, sending him away bleeding.

I often prayed for reassurance that I had followed Gods will that night, but I was never sure.

"Yes, but Miss we best see the Sheriff." Henry intoned bringing me back to reality.

We walked together to the Court House, the Sheriff was checking some papers in his office,  when I knocked his open door and walked in.

Plans of my house and land holding were spread on his desk and a pile of blank chattel record forms stood on his chair .

"Hello Lou, come on in." he greeted me.

"What is it Sheriff." I asked. "Dividing up my worldly goods before I am dead?"

"No Lou, read this, it came from Salt Lake, I'm sorry." Sheriff LaMont said quietly.

He handed me a long roll of paper, several feet long, I had never dreamed anyone would waste so much paper on a Document.

"Your family tree," he told me, "Top left."

"What Antonia LaForge,?" I asked,

"No Winston Church - Hill."

"Oh yes, so what does it mean?"

"Lou I'm so sorry, but you're part Negro."

"No, it can't be." my legs wobbled and I pulled out a chair and sat down heavily.

"Sorry Lou, but that is it. your great grandmother's grandfather was a Negro."

"Why do you say that?"

"The name, no one calls a white boy Winston." he suggested.

I nodded, confused and shocked.

"So, what does it mean?"

"That you ain't white, of course."

"But, how was I to know, Granddaddy and Daddy they were part Negro too, they never said, how was I to know?"

"Lou, it's up to you to know, you know the law, do you accept that you're guilty?

"Oh, Lord. I guess I must be." I admitted.

"I suppose you know what this means?"

I nodded.

"I don't think you do," he suggested  "You had better read the regulations, I'll lock you in a cell while you read them through. It sounds like you intend to plead no contest so I have to lock you up in a slave cell. I'm sorry."

He held out his hand and led me to the ground floor, the cell door opened from the foyer but the cell was open to the street, all the side street side of the building was slave cells, the upper floors carried on pillars and the cells just bars to the sides and front so everyone could see right in, the corner one was adapted with an outside door for the town whore to live and work in. I saw Mina, our present whore plying her trade in her cell.

I remembered how Mina broke an ankle after our slave doctor was culled, I was one who of several people who tried to set it for her but she found work in the fields too painful, so she became town whore for a while, but she seemed content and showed no sign of wanting to return to work in the fields.

I stood in the cell and tried to read, I knew much of it by heart but I read.

1) A person of  other than pure Caucasian descent shall be designated as a Slave,

2) A slave (i) may not own property.

(ii) Must have a registered owner, who must ensure

a) The name and address of said owner must be detailed on a collar to be worn around the slaves neck at all times.

b) Nose and Nipple rings or other such suitable securing points must be provided.

c) A twenty pound weight attached to a leg Iron or other suitable provision for restraint and prevention of escape must be provided

3) A Slave

(i) Must obey all commands of the Lawful owner or his designated representative.

(ii)Must follow the state or town dress code.

(iii) Slaves must seek written permission to conjoin with anyone other than the Owner or his designated representative, This shall be attached to the aforesaid slaves collar and such permission shall cover all other persons.

(note)(iv) The Owner may of his own volition give such permission and this shall be attached to the ownership collar.  The owner may revoke any such permission at any time.

My heart sank, I had only a few weeks to cullment and I would spend them as a slave,

I skimmed through the details of the green sheet, "Impersonation"

A crime punishable by immediate forfeiture of possessions and if the Slave will not reveal it's ownership then resale at auction at a town meeting. The sum to be held in trust and paid to the lawful owner if ownership can be proved.

A reasonable number of lashes should be administered and the Slave branded if the Skin Colour is below number 12 on the approved list.

Branding shall be the letter R on the right breast and L on the left breast in letters not less than three inches high. If deemed necessary the word slave or whore as applicable shall be branded above the eyes and nose.

I saw Mina, "What you looking at?" she shouted as she walked towards me.

"Hello Mina" I said.

"You're the preacher who tried to teach us things."

"Yes," I said.

"So what you done,?"

"I got Negro blood" I said and a tear formed in my eye."

"Oh my, Oh my, the way you look at me when I am working, now perhaps you'll do my job, and I can work the fields, make friends all that shit."

My mouth must have flopped open.

"Yeah you get a big penis in there, Taylour Perkins his is biggest." she said happily, "Look trick is to keep yourself damp, fingers, but of cold cum, anything so they slips right on in and gets it done."

My tears were flowing freely.

"You got tit rings?" she asked.

I shook my head,

"I got tit and clit, old LaMont chains me up on this long chain or seals the weights to my rings, and Lady you don't hurry with them on, tear your insides out or tits off if you try."

I stared at her clit ring nestling among the stubble of her lower belly and the navel ring and labia rings, and nipple rings, "Get them flaps ringed" she said, "Makes em easy to pull apart, and let the big ones in." she demonstrated and I could see deep inside her, I felt strangely damp myself.

"He lets me wear this skirt, but thats all, I guess he'll keep you naked"  She added helpfully.

Naked, I looked down, My blouse buttoned from neck to waist, my jacket in blue green, my long skirt reaching to the ground, my pantaloons from waist to my boot tops over stockings and suspenders, corset, brassiere and panties, I could not face the world without these yet I was to be forced to strip naked and remain naked in public.

Sheriff LaMont brought me to the lavatory beside the Council Chamber tand asked me to clean the lavatory floor, I almost refused but when I saw it was sparkling clean I realised why, as a Negro I would not be allowed to use the whites only facility, I would have to use the hole in the yard that was provided for slaves, this way I could use the facilities and save some dignity. The reality of slavery was coming home to me as I pulled up my underwear  for the last time possibly, and I pondered my future as I walked back into the Council Chamber.

Sheriff LaMont sat me by the prisoner dock, "I ought to cuff you really but," he said with a wink" I forgot."

Six o'clock approached and the folks started filing in, the news had travelled fast and folks who never came to a town meeting ever in their lives came for this meeting. At ten past six when most everyone had found a seat, the Sheriff opened proceedings, Apologies, Minutes of the last meeting then Quotas, he outlined the position, Cullment, he read my statutory 30 days notice, fhen he read out my provisional inventory, everything I owned, listed for division when I died, the last of my line, no next of kin, so everything sold and taken by the lawmakers far away.

I wondered about my old oil paintings, from England five or six hundred years old, perhaps the paintings would go to the Confederation up in Niagra, where they had power to spare and wealth, they even had lights on poles to light up the streets, in Niagra City powered by the amazing three hundred year old turbine generator and dam. 

The agenda items dragged, the six Councilmen in no hurry, wandering off into pointless anecdotes, then the door creaked and a familiar face appeared, Tom.

"Councilman Chambers where have you been."

"Sorry, my slave went lame I had to carry." he paused, "It delayed me."

"Then sit down" the Sheriff ordered

"Right, Impersonation, I have it on impeccable authority that Miss Van Gelders great great Grand pappy was a Negro."

The shocked silence seem strangely theatrical. "Winston, he was called Winston. see it says so here."

He passed the long roll of paper around the table, the Councilmen all nodded, they muttered among themselves,  "All in favour" asked the Sheriff,  all their hands went up.  "That's settled then"

Sheriff LaMont stood up and started to intone loudly "By the power invested in my by the United States of the South I call upon all here present to declare any opposition to this Council decision that Louisa VanGelder is a Negro and a slave." he paused.

"Speak now or forever keep silent." He paused, half a minute passed, a minute, "Then Miss VanGelder, we find you are a Negro."

I burst into tears, someone shouted hooray, but he was quickly silenced.

"I therefore go on to the appeal, If there be anyone who should wish to appeal this judgement speak now."

I stood to protest but someone rabbit punched me and I fell back into the seat.

"Then that is finalised, so it merely falls to auction the slave."

"Not so fast John, there is the question of Impersonation," Councilman Oates reminded him.

"She is guilty of course."

"No she has to be asked John. hell she's still Impersonating a white right now, sit in a white seat not stood at the back, and in white clothes.

The Sheriff stood and spoke to me, "Do you admit Impersonation?"

"I never knew until today." I explained.

"But you seen the evidence?"

"Yes"

"And"

"It looks like I got Negro blood, so yes I admit it, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"Then come up to the table, I guess we best rename you Lou, and your new masters name."

I nodded and I shakily made my way to the area between the Council men's tables, in their U shape.

"If you would undress please, Lou" the Sheriff asked.

"Hell tell her Strip, she's a slave now." ordered  Leeman Jones.

"Hell Martha, "John LaMont addressed his wife as she recorded the proceedings in the minute book, "Give the poor girl a hand would you."

Martha rose from her chair and came up to me, "It has to be done."

She took my bonnet from me, removing the hat pin to release it.

She helped to lift my jacket from my shoulders, then she undid my cuff buttons, and started to undo the buttons at the neck of my blouse.

"Hey Mrs MaGuire shouted, "That should be sold, I see you eyeing that jacket Martha LaMont."

"How much am I bid then Norma" asked the Sheriff.

"Twenty,

"Martha,"  he asked.

"Thirty."

"Norma"

"Let her have it, but I want that blouse." replied Norma Maguire.

Martha placed the Jacket on her own chair, then she began once again to unbutton my blouse, I sat still, staring at the floor, just raising my arms to allow her to slip the garment from me, leaving me sitting in my corset and brassiere.

"Ten," someone offered and Norma glanced at her husband and admitted defeat.

Martha undid my belt and had me stand so she could slip my long skirt off, my long pink bloomers must have looked ridiculous, but someone offered ten for the skirt, I hoped they would not mind that I had darned the back, then my bloomers, she undid the drawstring and slid them down, showing my stockings, Two bidders simultaneously bid "Two" and as Martha had me remove my boots so she could remove the bloomers they were bid up to five.

Martha untied the ribbons from my white silk stockings and slid the stockings down and off my feet before holding them aloft, the repairs to the feet were all too obvious, but the bidding was becoming bawdy, male voices, Ten, Fifteen, Twenty, How about we have one each? Go on then Ten each."

"Gentlemen please," Sheriff LaMont insisted, It is one lot, Mister Lomax, it's with you, any more..... No." Bang. He banged the table with his little wooden hammer."Sold." my suspender belt, with the hideously expensive elasticated sides and silk ribbons, was removed next, and quickly sold for Forty, then Martha undid my Brassiere, although what use it could be to anyone else I could not imagine, it took ages to adjust the leather straps just right and I had carefully sewn the straps into position, removing the adjusters as elastic seemed too extravagant so I had always used the strapped type.

The men were bidding, I barely noticed my nipples had hardened with the cool air, I knew this was my future I had to bear it, the item sold among much hilarity, then they were selling my boots, black leather worn but highly polished with slightly raise heels, they had been my mother's.

The tears came, selling mother's things was more than I could bear.

I sat looking at the floor, wearing only my tiny white silk knickers, just two triangles of silk joined by two pieces of red ribbon tied at the sides.

"What about the pants? said Maxwell Howe "I bid two, for em"

"Leave the poor girl some dignity," suggested Jackson Oates but her knew John LaMont had to accept the bid,

"Three, Four, Ten, Fifteen, Fifty the bidding rose, Tom Chambers briefly joining in but shook his head, at Fifty plus.

"Fifty Five, Sixty if I can take em off of her," bid Spencer Lomax and Sheriff LaMont banged down the Hammer.

Martha carefully undid the ribbons and had me rise up so she could pull the garment clear, I sat again, now completely naked, staring at the ground but I saw with horror the front silken triangle was wet with my moisture, wet and transparent, thankfully the rear remained pristine and clean or my shame would have been complete.

Spencer came swaggering over and Martha handed me the panties, "He said sixty if he took em off of you." she explained.

"I meant pull em off." he said.

"But you said take," Sheriff LaMont reminded him to the crowds amusement.

"Right, now stand up Lou, turn around," said the Sheriff.

"Stand up dear, you don't want John to whip you, do you?"

I somehow managed to stand.

"One recovered slave, answers to the name Lou, what an I bid? will anyone start me at Two Hundred."

"Five Hundred," Tom Chambers shouted and Sheriff LaMont dropped his little hammer in surprise.

"Sorry," he said, picking the hammer up again, "now any advance."

"Point of order" Martha interjected.

"Shut up woman you can't have points of order," the Sheriff ordered but Leeman Jones had other ideas.

"John, the hammer went down, she is sold sir, point of order, she is sold." he asserted.

"I dropped the hammer," said LaMont.

"Yes sir when the hammer goes down it denotes a sale." reaffirmed Councilman Jones.

LaMont nodded, "In that case do you have the money Tom?"

"I have the statutory ten per cent deposit sir."

"In that case you can collect her when you bring the balance, which leaves the chastisement,

will you do it?"

He shook his head, "I don't want her beat up bad, would you do the honours Sheriff, I have a mind for her to do repairs and alterations to Ladies clothing, she done some mighty neat patching on them old things of her ma's what we just done sold.

"I wanted her for the whorehouse," moaned a voice from the back, and a great laugh went up. 

"Six and Six with a six inch belt," suggested the Sheriff, "any other ideas."

"Fifty" a voice from the back.

"Look, I'll have you up for contempt if you make any more cracks, Six and Six, agreed?"

"Aye" the murmur rose and then Sheriff Lamont was coming over, undoing his six inch wide belt.

Martha pulled out the chair, the whipping chair, she sat on it to do her records of the meeting but now she lifted her seat with the cushion and revealed the hole.

I stood and he guided me down, down till my hands were through the small hand holes and my head was through the main hole and  below the seat with my midriff painfully bent over the tall chair back, then the seat slid back trapping my neck and hands as the holes constricted, LaMont tapped the insides of my knees and I spread my legs slightly.

I realised my sexual organs and even my bottom must be plainly displayed I hoped I would not disgrace myself, and steeled myself for the blow.

Nothing had prepared me for that first blow, play fights with Tom were my last taste of violent contact, and that was years ago, but suddenly my back was on fire, torn open even from left shoulder to right buttock.

"Aaaaeeeeee" I screamed then the second blow from right shoulder to left buttock drove the breath from me completely, my tears flowed, as I struggled for breath.

"Uh," a fourth blow landed, then another and a sixth, then the pause.

John LaMont took off his jacket and had a drink, no more than six blows at a time were allowed to ensure the "Whipper" did not get tired and fail to deliver proper blows.

I had barely recovered when he started again, Whack, Whack, I was sure all the skin was flailed from my back "Eleven , Twelve" the crowd shouted and then "One for luck"

It came from directly behind, up between my legs, grazing both thighs and hitting me from lower belly to my bottom, the pain was unbearable, I screamed and realised had wet myself.

My shame was complete.

Martha released me, and she fixed my leather collar, sliding the needle with the thick thread easily through the predrilled holes, making a permanent job.  She did wrist cuffs as well, wide leather cuffs each with a shiny metal loop, sewn into place, she finally clipped my cuffs to my collar so my hands were almost over my ears.

"Tom, what rings do you want."  John LaMont asked as he watched Martha's handiwork with pride.  "Nose and Tits?"

"Tits and Clit, oh and Labia," he announced.

My Labia, like Mina's, to be ringed so I could hold it open, and Clit, I was nor even sure where my Clitoris was.

"Up on the table then, Lou." John LaMont muttered as he lifted me gently onto the table, "best lose the fuzz," he continued.

I saw someone had bought a ladle full of something hot and as John lay sacking on my belly so the Jacob Hunstanton, a slave, began to paint the hot stuff from the ladle onto the sacking.

It was wax, they covered all he area of my belly and between my legs and when the wax had solidified the two of them ripped the sacking from me. I thought my skin had come off, I passed out.

Someone was stroking my nipples when I came round, watching, waiting, and someone was playing with my sex, they were waiting, stalking my clit, I tried to stop myself being aroused, I tried so hard, and I know God in heaven knows there was not a single thing I could do but suddenly she was interested, aroused, sneaking from her hood, looking for something, my clitoris, the devils instrument, mother called her and I had tried so hard to suppress her with complete success, cold baths and early mornings serving to keep her demands in check, but seemingly my humiliation had inspired her.

The trap was set, unseen by me as I drowsed she grew to her full length, poking from her hood and then suddenly "Twang" the piercing machine had impaled her, I screamed,  my poor tortured scream echoed around the room, and once more I fainted swapping the pain of reality for the safety of the land of dreams.

I woke as they impaled my nipples the gold bar brutally forced through and curled round to make a ring, ready for soldering, and then to my horror I found my Labia had been ringed, both sides, in Gold.

"No playing now, Mister Oates will solder your rings then you can rest in your cell." Sheriff LaMont ordered and I saw Mr Oates with his small blow lamp approaching. He used heat shields and heat sinks so the pain was almost bearable, but I was firmly ringed.

"Branding tomorrow." Tom whispered, "Don't worry." and then he attached a long leash and I was being led through the crowd, and own to the cell, the crowd parted for John and squeezed for me, hands grabbed and groped at me, my secret places, places no man had ever seen let alone touched were displayed and explored, I felt shame but also pride that so many wished to be intimate, I had not even kissed a man. if you discount childhood play kisses with Tom. yet fingers were pulling my labia and nipples and agonisingly irritating my clitoris, I felt I needed something to soothe my agony, and that something it seemed to me was a man, yet I needed to stay chaste until cullment, less than a month, could my resolve hold?  

Sheriff LaMont led me to the cell, again open to the street, just bars not weather protection, Bread broken into chunks and a trough of water waited for me, and just a dirt floor with a hole in one corner, and there I spent my first night as a slave.

I woke from my dream, I dreamed I had been sold into slavery, and within seconds I realised  it was no dream, I had indeed become a slave.

Miss Louisa VanGelder

Tom Chambers

Sheriff  John  Lamont

Martha LaMont

Confederation in Niagra,

Part two

I sat in my cell, the slave holding cell, a dirt floor, a trough for my water and a single block for my bread, one side was open to the street, anyone could gawp at me, only one day ago I woke in my own soft bed in my warm bedroom in my own house, master, well mistress of all I surveyed, yet I had been stripped of everything because I had a Negro ancestor, why had they done it? I was on 30 days notice of cullment, would another month have hurt anyone, why could they not have waited, I had no descendants, I wanted to meet my maker pure and unsullied, yet her I was naked on the filthy floor with my piercings making me so painfully aware of my sexuality, my hands were secured to my leather collar but I needed relief eventually I found I could fit a knee through the gap between two roadside bars and rub...oh yes  coud rub.....

"Why Miss Van Gelder, what in the world, "

"Hello Mrs Yates." I replied, seeing my old friend. "I'm sorry but I just got to scratch this little Ooohhh, Oh my god."

"You are depraved," she said kindly, "Here use my umbrella."

It pressed against my lower lips and I wriggled down and down and suddenly the pain came and went,

"Louisa we heard" it was Mrs Forbes and Mrs Gates, my friends from school and there I was abusing myself on Mrs Yates umbrella.

"Gee Louisa, you will be taking over from Mina as the town whore soon."

I looked longingly to where Mina sat watching me, as I watched her as Harper Perkins took his pleasure with her as she knelt on her hands and knees, with his penis inserted deep inside her.

Yesterday I would have turned away feigning nausea, today I felt mere envy.

The day dragged, Miss Forbes took away her umbrella but my poor clitoris needed attention, every time she tried to retreat she found she was held by her ring, which aroused her, and all I had was the cell bar to soothe her.

The Sheriff came at noon, "Stretch your legs Lou, I'll just pop some weights on stop you running."

He fitted all five, my Tits, Clit and Labia, first time I moved too fast and hit the ground as I passed out with pain,but the feeling was wonderful as I walked slowly and smoothly almost floating as I walked the familiar streets of my home town, with the smooth grace of a ringed whore. I returned to the safety of my cell, and then Tom came for me.

"Hi lou, " he said, "I paid what I owe, I just got to let Martha sew my name on your collar and get you branded then we can go home."

"No, not branded! not that."

"Its law Lou."

Mercer Tailor was waiting at the forge, the branding irons ready. I stood with my eyes shut as the warm iron touched my breast. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"Paint mainly, I can't burn you Lou, so we dipped warm irons in black paint, John LaMont says it complies with the law so lets not argue.

The paint marked my breasts with the L and R the law required and Tom tugged my leash and I followed him to his house, past my old friends, and children, my weights tormenting me. I had to stop. I sat in the road in the dirt, and despite his tugging and admonishments I set my fingers to work, holding those lips apart so I could give her the attention she needed, my clit my only interest and preoccupation.

"No Louisa, not that, please." Tom cried, but I lay back under that hot sun I saw heaven, and then I was left in limbo, my fingers too small, yet my fist too large, I needed a man.

I sat up, looking at the crowd around me, and when I stood I saw my juices leaking from me running down my leg, attracting a coat of dust to their slimy trail.  

I walked towards his house, and within yards the torment returned I tried to concentrate, his folks had moved on leaving him the house, he had been so successful that they had enough credits to retire and live to eighty and more so they moved to the Hills.

I saw piles of junk spread round the floor. "First job sort these books and stuff."

I looked, "Its my library."

"Was, it's mine now,I bought it, you put it in order on the bookshelves."

"Tom, or should it be master, ?" I asked

"Master is safest I guess, Lou."

"The rings are driving me mad."    I told him.

"Then lie down," he said. "Lie down, on the floor, hold them lips apart."

He undid his trousers and stripped off his shirt.

"Tom, you'll give me a baby!" It was a stupid thing to say, I had twenty nine days to arrange to be humanely culled or I would be Hallaled my throat cut in the main square and bled to death, an agonising way to go.

"Thats the plan" Tom announced as he advanced, his penis looked firm and straight and potent and then I was holding my lips apart as he sunk inside, it hurt, he thrust harder, it hurt more then I felt something tearing, and he was invading me, and I knew peace. pulling him into me, urging him on until he suddenly filled me with his fluids.

"I love you." I told him. "Why did you let me fight you off all those years ago?"

"Same reason you fought me I suppose."  He replied

"My Mom said I was not pretty enough to keep you, that you would divorce me and I would be culled."

"Well, I guess we will never know, but I waited on you, even when your folks were culled, and you spat at me when I offered you move in here." he  reminded me.

"Move in, be your whore."

"I meant the spare wing, I thought you were to be homeless."

"But unmarried, in your house."

"I figured you needed time, Lou, it was too soon, Lou, why are you crying?"

"I hoped you would have wanted to marry me, when I was alone and free, I wanted you to offer marriage, not a roof over my head."

"Lou, I thought you needed time, of course I would have married you, if you had given me any notion of how you felt."

" Oh my, we could have been together all this time." I said sadly.

"Its all right," he said as he kissed me, "we are together now."

"Yes, but Tom, will you do something for me, promise please."

"Perhaps, but ask me and I'll say." he replied ambiguously

"I had a private cull arranged, for Wednesday, will you pay for it, please?"

"No Lou,"

"No, " I interjected, "No, yet you say you love me, and you wont pay for a humane cull, I have to have my throat ripped open, you beast." I slapped him, hard.

He took my wrists and clipped the cuffs to my collar.

"Lou, you're a slave now, you can't hit a white man, I could have you culled."

"Yes, I have only twenty seven days left that's what I want."

"But Lou, you're a slave, you don't run out of credits if I sign that you're useful, I thought Sheriff LaMont made you read the rules."

"I" I started to mutter but how to tell a man that I had not read the last document because I had been watching the town whore. "I didn't realise." I felt stunned, "I need time." I told him.

He slapped my backside, then he unclipped my wrists.

"Lou, I thought  you will have our children and they will live full lives, Lou, and one day they or their children or their children's won't be slaves any more."

"I don't really understand," I told him.

He took me by the arm and led me to his couch, "We hatched a plan at Council, well afterwards actually the Sheriff and me, neither of us could bear to see you culled, so we went through the records and found this black ancestor."

"But" I started to say, but he placed a hand over my mouth.

"No you must not talk of this, just listen, you are safe for now and if we have children then we must consider what is best for them but for now you are my slave and I shall use you for my pleasure."

"But I, you, we, we cheated the system," I protested.

"The system cheated you remember?" he added, "But you have duties, Dinner, I hope you can cook, and needlecraft you are superb with the needles,"

"I don't have any needles" I protested.

"Use mine," he grinned as he handed me my old needlecraft box, "Read the dress code and adapt it," he insisted, "Protective clothing, be inventive."

I made clothes, I layered them so my breasts were exposed but only the undersides, I wore an apron all the time, and a skirt, and some panties except they drove me wild rubbing my rings, and I cooked and cleaned for Tom and I tried to be the most obliging and obedient wife a man ever had.

But even as he used me, and every evening he did what he could to sate the craving my Clit and Labia rings induced, pushing that magnificent tool of his inside of me three and sometimes four times each evening, over the kitchen table, or on the floor, or in bed there was not one single position which we had not tried, but for that my happiness was undermined by guilt.

I should be dead, but for his kindness.

I ever saw how happy and contented he had become, too busy worrying about my feelings when he should have made me forget who I had been and treat me like a slave, if only he had taken the strap to me, shaved my head, branded me, kept me naked, made me pull his pony cart or loaned me to his friends when their wives got their period, then I would have been all right, I would have felt resentment and hate, which would have driven me on, but no, he treated my with a respect I did not deserve, and the guilt became unbearable

"I can't do this any more, " I told him one morning, I felt nauseous again and knew it was because I was cheating the system.

"What?"

"Live as your wife, when I am a slave."  I told him, as I took off my blouse and apron to stand bare breasted as the slave regulations stipulated.

"So what do you suggest?"

"I should work in the fields." It seemed obvious.

"Your skin will burn," he pointed out, "you will end up unable to work,"

"Then,"

"Then there is nothing else for you." he insisted, "Unless you want to spell Mina as town whore?"

I thought of Mina.  He read my mind.

"Perhaps I could work a treadmill," I asked hopefully.

"No, Lou, we sent the last good generator north last fall, I guess the batteries have kept the power on but, no we culled the team."

"Oh my god you mean?"

"No, disbanded, most of them are clearing more fields for production, its just we have no backup for storms any more."

I sat there, listening. "Tom," I said. "When the South broke away, and the new order came in, why was it."

He replied patiently "because their skin burned if they tried to work outside so they did a deal, to equalise energy, it came out something like twenty times as much energy was used by whites so they fixed a twenty to one cull ratio, and Whites were dying by the million from skin disease, whites had to keep under cover while some strains of blacks were immune, but you know this."

"Tom, where is your automobile, air conditioning, air plane."

"Yes, the deal looks a bit sour, but we got electric light."

"So have the slaves." I pointed out.

"And we make the rules."

"So you can change the rules?" I queried, "I don't think so, they are laid down in the Bible or by the Southern States government, you just fiddle with quotas." I got angry, but my clitoris ring let me down, I moved about to rapidly and the weight tormented me.

I lifted my skirt, he stared.

"I can't Lou, not again, not three times in a morning, maybe you better spell Mina,"

"Yes." I said plunging the handle of the butter knife inside me, "Perhaps I should."

He reached down my favorite piece of broom handle and pulled my hand away to start to pleasure me with the wood, "Its wood, I need your cock, your cum, please try again."

I saw from the smooth line of his trousers that he was not interested, he kissed me

but it was meaningless, I needed cock not kisses. "you are useless, I need a real man."

"Fine, lots of them, I'll arrange it, you can spell the town whore, let her take a vacation, she has a sister in the Confederation, she can go visit."

"As long as I get satisfied, Its fine."

"You would be dead if it was not for me, how can you be so horrid and ungrateful?" he asked, in a horrid way that only a man could.

How could he know the torment a woman with a ringed and weighted nipples and clitoris must endure daily, the constant arousal and infrequent satisfaction, the battle to concentrate on daily tasks when she needs constant attention.

I dreamed of a succession of cocks each filling me with lovely warm cum, and I pushed his had away and speeded up the rhythm of my wooden friend, I knew what I needed and where my destiny lay.

"So I'll see the Sheriff." he said.

"Yes."

"You would rather live as the town whore than as my wife."

"Yes," I needed a cock, if he had just taken me there and then life would have been different but I had outgrown him.

"The past three months have been the happiest of my life yet you throw them back at me?"

"No Tom" I explained, "You don't satisfy me."

"Then you choose, be faithful to me or something else."

"It's not that, I'm cheating the system, it is not right."

"And I don't satisfy you, do you know how hurtful that is?" he demanded, "do you?"

My clitty was throbbing, I could not think straight.

"No, yes whatever, I can't do this anymore, I can't do it."

He slapped my face, "Fine, if thats your decision." he said and taking his knife he cut the stitches and took my collar off.

"Slave regulation of Ammendment Act 2149 section 3 (iii) Slaves must seek written permission to breed with anyone other than the Owner or his designated representative,

Notice of this permission shall be attached to the aforesaid slaves collar and such permission shall cover all other persons." he intoned. "Do you want me to sign."

"Yes,"  I said.  My life of pampered privilege was more than I could bear.

He slid the sleeve with private property of Tom Chambers embroidered on it off  and took a plain sleeve from his drawer.

"Embroider, whore to be used by any as pay her, no just whore, on there. I'm off to see the sheriff."

I waited while he went, I tipped the small table over and climbed onto the the smooth shiny leg, standing on tip toe then guiding it into my vagina and then sliding my sex down upon the smooth penetrating leg, it soothed my fire for the moment, yet I needed more.

I took my sewing box and with trembling fingers I embroidered the "whore" across the sleeve then I waited for Tom.

He returned with Sheriff LaMont, a while later.

"Louisa, what in gods name got into you?" the Sheriff enquired.

"I can't live like this, I'm living a lie John," I told him "I can't work the fields so this is the only way."

"What about Tom?" John enquired.

"She don't care what I think." he muttered.

"I got do do what's right."

"Then if it's what you want put that sleeve on your collar, slut."

"Yes John."

"Its sir, now" the sheriff told me, "white folks are sir or ma'am, if you want to be treated as a slave whore then so be it."

I slid the sleeve into place and the sheriff fastened the collar temporarily with some wire.

"You best get naked," he suggested.

Then Tom told me, "if  you are serious your brands need doing again, burned this time, you understand, w h o r e across your forehead, and L and R on your breasts, and."

"Yes, I had two months extra after my culling date, I can't take the guilt, I can't work the fields, I'm too pale, the bible says no taking your own life, its the only way."

"For Gods sake Lou," Tom said "show some respect, speak when you're spoken to, you're a slave not a Sunday School teacher now. and I was going to say you should be covered as your brands have faded, I have an old blanket with a hole in put that on."

Sheriff LaMont spoke, "Come on girl, strip."

"Leave her John," said Tom, "I can't bear to watch, let her be, she can still change her mind."

They left me alone, and I quickly stripped, it felt good, unconstrained, I felt the bonds of domesticity falling away.

I heard banging noises upstairs then Sheriff LaMont came down alone, " Time to go."

"Where is Tom?" I asked.

"He assigned me control, lets have Martha sew your collar then Tailor can do the brands."

Suddenly I was unsure but John hooked my wrists to the collar and led me away, it was a strange sensation, the passer bys' looks were less intense now, I was no longer the main freak show, just a sad unfortunate, I looked around, I had enjoyed sixty days with my man, and he had tired of me so I hoped I would find something satisfying in my servitude.

We walked the dusty road, past the big houses, along the wide avenue where automobiles once queued and lights on poles had illuminated I felt helpless with my wrists secured yet the blanket hid my nakedness and the and there in the distance was Mercer Tailor, waiting by his forge.

The building had once been a ten story apartment block but now just one story and part of the lift shaft remained, this very shaft formed the base of the chimney from which smoke belched and drifted over the town.

"Hey John, " said Tailor "Right on time."

"Yes here she is, just branding, no leg irons."

"Sit down girl," Tailor suggested. "let's get you sorted out."

I sat down and Tailor lifted the old blanket off me, and brought the leather straps round from behind the chair to hold me in place, I realised he was going to secure my neck with a second strap,  and then he secured my feet to the chair legs.

"Where do want them John?" Tailor called.

"Whore on the forehead and tits done."  John suggested.

"Best gag her then," Tailor suggested and suddenly someone wrenched my head back and rammed something vile in my mouth, a leather harness followed, pulling the filth into my mouth then something pulled my chin up closing my mouth on to the gag.

"No" I screamed but it was too late.

Tailor went to the forge and returned with the brand glowing, not the black smoking brand of my first branding but a bright fiery red he quenched it in the black oil then he advanced, an L why the L when the WHORE should be first, I felt the heat searing the tiny hairs on my breast then I smelled the burning and passed out.

They woke me with a pitcher of vile liquid thrown in my face the pain was near unbearable,and as I woke the heat came again and the sizzle and smell of the second brand.

I stared but could not tip my head down far enough to see how they had mutilated my poor breasts,

"Shall I do the WHORE now." asked Tailor.

"No, I can't see her face burned, Tailor, how about that little brand?"

"Whore, or hows about Tom and a heart shape."

"Hey, do Tom on each ass cheek and whore in tiny letters on the sole of each foot."

I tried to shout "No" but no sound came out.

They loosened my left leg and I kicked Tailor so they just tipped the chair right over and Tailor burned that word right into my sole. The pain was unbearable, I barely remained conscious, and I heard Tailor laughing.

"That's clever John, burning whore into her sole, sole, soul, get it."

John looked perturbed "Hell Tailor it weren't no joke, I just wanted to avoid burning her face."

My foot sizzled, and the searing red hot daggers of pain shot up my leg, as the brand burned into my soft flesh. It was the smell, my flesh burning, that made me nauseous  and I fainted again.

I woke to find myself free, the pain unbearable yet I was bearing it, "could childbirth be this painful," I mused, my breasts, and feet were agony, I stared in disbelief at my poor tortured breasts, Tailor had treated my burns with thick black oil.  I looked round.

"You awake little lady," he asked.

"Ahhh I cried, what have you done?"

"Branding, oh and I doused it in oil to help the healing and stain the brands black, ole John he couldn't bear to scar your pretty face, sentimental fool."

"My feet, what have you done to my feet?" I asked, "He never said anything about my feet."

"It was Johns idea, look miss, they think you will get tired of this and want to live with Tom again, this way no one will know you are a branded whore, if you stay clothed and move away."

"Oh god." I said and then, blackness. next thing I knew Tailor was lifting me, out of the chair, onto his workbench, and his trousers were open, he eased my thighs apart, and nuzzled the bulbous purple tip of his penis against my soft slit, he lifted my wrists from the clips securing them to my collar and instinctively I pulled on my labia rings to open myself up for him.

He took me, no tenderness, just a simple primeval urge, and my clit welcomed the pressure and warmth of his body even as my conscious mind recoiled from the horror of the moment.

The welcome release of his fluids came too soon to quench my fire but as he withdrew his young apprentice took his place, and without a word he began to thrust wildly into me, artlessly, lovelessly, using me.

I tried to stand but the pain was too intense, I passed out again and as I woke Tailor had laid me down inside the door of the Town Whore's cell, Mina's cell, at the Court House, except Mina was gone and it was mine now, I was the new Town Whore.

I saw elegant ladies, clustered around, then I saw my things, stacked in a corner, placed on sheets so they would not be dirtied,  "That's mine" I protested. My clothes everything, my sewing box had gone already, "Where is my sewing box."

"No miss, it ain't yours, slaves can't own nothing," John LaMont told me "Tom said bring it and let anyone take it."

"Oh, my paintings!"

John looked at the dusty frames, "Worth a bit, better ask questions how Tom got them so cheap." he said and collected them up and took them upstairs.

To be Continued,

Part Three.

They left me alone, lying on the dirt, in the town whore's cell at the Court House, watching as my former friends picked over what had been my possessions which had been stacked in my cell for anyone to take, a cell with a roof and one wall under the corner of the upper floor of the Courthouse, hemmed in with bars yet with a doorway to the street.

Next to my cell were the slave cells where any slave convicted of crime or considered useless and awaiting cullment would be held, but  they were hardly ever used.

Martha LaMont came as the women squabbled over my treasures, she checked the places I had been so brutally marked with the hot branding Irons and then she did my hair, weaving it into a single ponytail weaving the frayed ends of an old rope into it and looped the rope around a hook to tie me up, finally she stitched my collar into place, Her husband John had previously pulled the temporary wire fastenings out when she struggled, and when she finished she kissed me and wished  well.

The men kept away as their women sorted through my things first the elegant white free women and then the slaves and only when all my things were gone and the women had dispersed did the men come.

Mercer Tailor had been my first when he branded me and he was the first at the Court House, I spread myself for him and he landed a great gob of spit to lubricate me and he just fucked right on in to me like I as nothing at all, then Stephen Mann, Jessica's husband, and Hugh McGrath, then the slaves, big, fit, fragrant, urgent, queueing outside, blending one into another, my mind floated detached above the crudity of my predicament, the pain of my brands, and the joyful thrill from my loins, my clit leaping with joy at every thrust, sad at each withdrawal ecstatic at each insertion, and soon morning came.

Ronald McLoud, a great Bull of a man allowed me to drink from my trough before he took me and fed me tid bits of broken bread as he thrust into me, laughing as he did so.

They let me sleep, slaves worked from dawn to dusk, but a frustrated slave is an inefficient slave so they sent them to me, I dozed in the shade eyes closed legs wide, the ejaculate of many oozing from me, I felt sick, nauseous, and I did not understand, I had left the security of life as Tom Chambers' personal slave because I felt nauseated, but I knew I was useful, at last, they did not need my services as teacher or preacher and I could not work in the fields so I would be the best whore ever.

They tired of me gradually, Chester Perkins, I remember his huge purple helmeted penis as he chose to use my mouth, was it three days or three weeks, I did not remember, it was horrible, I nearly choked as the hot sticky goo slid down my poor parched throat, and then before he was finished another penis was sliding within my soaking Vagina, his touch exciting my poor overwrought Clitoris once more.

They became bored with my sex, but my anus was a new challenge, at first they forced things up my backside because they claimed my vagina had become loose and sloppy and an anal insertion tightened it up, but soon the smaller ones, Raphael Potomac I think was the first, a small wiry man of around thirty, with a prick like a pipe cleaner according to his friends was the first to penetrate me there, then they found they could do me in pairs, and on rest days a crowd formed, watching, as the men formed up one in front with my arms and legs wrapped around him and one behind spearing into my anus.

I lost track of time, Martha would sometimes speak of the world I once knew, how much or how little time families had together, eighteen years, it seemed cruel, children of four seeing their mothers culled, because their eldest sister had reached eighteen and could take over their care, cullment was supposed to be sixty, after a life driving automobiles and flying in aeroplanes, a life of air conditioned luxury not the life they now had, most walking everywhere, sweating in summer, freezing in winter, while slaves now enjoyed the same electricity as Caucasians as the population contracted.

Shambling old men of eighty signed off as useful while beautiful young women and men of twenty five were ruthlessly culled

I never saw a Hallal but pretty often there would be a private cullment and menfolk would queue up to use me, especially husbands, who lost their wives.

The men were pitiable, the quotas only allowed twenty five years, some got diminution for crimes and misdemeanours, others like Tom who had been a grade A student throughout so his High school credits and Land Management diploma had just about guaranteed a cullment of forty by the time he was twenty and with his success since in improving yields he could live to sixty, even eighty, but the young less gifted guys struggled.

We had a physician, he checked everyone, even slaves, every three months, and whores every week, for disease, and against the cullment lists. we pretty much kept ourselves apart but he checked every stranger and everyone who had been away for disease as they came back to town.

Most diseases had been eradicated but Hepatitis meant the Cullment man had to torture the full list of contacts from the diseased person and cull them within one calender day and seal their body in quicklime.

The weed got some of them, it grew along the old railroad route, it tasted real good and played tricks with the mind so plenty of young guys tried it, and then their school grades dropped, it never worried the slaves, they just seemed happier more relaxed, but the consequences were serious for the white guys, there was no safety net once the treadmills were de commissioned and their little used generators sent north, it was graduate or die.

This summer Alexis DuPre and Karl Wineberger had been competing for the final trades man's course, the prize two years deferred cullment,  Alexis twenty four, hardworking, short overweight, pretty stupid, facing imminent cullment, against Karl, nineteen, with two counts of three years diminution for abusing slaves after drinking illicit Alcohol, also due for cullement.

I heard Sheriff LaMont say "Hell if the assault course don't sort 'em it's down to potency."

The feeling of dread flowed through me as neither pulled a clear margin over the other, school room, or slave-craft down at the facility, nor even on the assault course, up ropes over the Court House, under the platform and then up the flag pole in the Town Square to stand on the top button, if either could do it.  The Town Square was pretty full as the word got around, two guys competing for their lives.

They both failed that last wobbling sickening lunge to stand on the top of the pole, they reckoned fifteen men had gotten there of which ten died getting down, the area all round was hard rock paving so a slip could mean death.

"I make that Nine Eighty to Karl, and Nine Forty to Alexis." I heard  John LaMont shout, "I guess we better get the whore."

I remembered talk of how Mina sorted a pair of guys before, she chose, The Town Whore chose who was the best lover and he lived. How could I live with myself if I did the same, suddenly I longed for my old life, life as a slave I could bear but not life and death decisions, My respect for Sheriff Lamont and his wisdom increased, what a dilemma, to chose who lived and who died..

They had put a white wedding dress on Mina and she had been laid on a mattress on the raised platform in the Town Square the other side of the Court House, away from my cell, and folk had watched as the two guys had pleasured her taking turns and then after a while one ran out of fluids, they said he could not get hard and she had smiled at him and said.

"I guess you came second."  They said he swore and screamed, but his daddy hit him with an upper cut and said "You shamed the family."

They came with the Wedding dress, it felt real odd being dressed, even though the thin silk showed me as clear as if I was naked, and they took me to the square.

All the people who had been my friends were there, watching, their contempt for me subdued as they saw the vision of loveliness was a sham, my feet and legs filthy, hair matted, the bite marks clear on my neck and breasts, I was so far from my old prim self I just squatted down to answer a call of nature right there before them, "Lou" someone shouted and I remembered who I once was and suddenly I did not need to go anymore.

I tried not to think of the responsibility I carried, but then I saw Mr Longthorn, the cullment man, he was an awful travesty of a man, lazy, fat unpleasant, and all he did was run the cullment parlour, he was about fifty, a strange anomaly I thought, why did we need a cullment professional when we did not have a doctor for the slaves.

He came over to me, "Now Whore, you fuck them boys good now d'you hear, I want to get the loser culled so I can get my supper."

"You are supposed to test the equipment." I told him as I swept the thin white covering from my crotch, "Do you want to test it? do you?  look how wet and slippery she is, waiting for a big strong man like you," I continued  "I always wanted you, the man who wields the Hallal knife, what's it like to kill Mr Longthorn, tell me as you fuck me, you have to test the equipment."

His beady eyes lit up, he had always wanted to show what a fine fucker he was, the quart of illicit alcohol he just drunk was messing with his brain as I took his hand and guided him up to the platform, I got his trousers down and pulled him down on me in a smooth well rehearsed motion.

"Oh you're so big." I lied

"For Christs sake Lou." Johm Lamont shouted but Martha silenced him.

"She's going to fuck him to death," John, "Look."

His wiry little prick flopped uselessly round my stretched vagina as he fucked into me, I kissed his filthy diseased mouth and lied about the way I felt, his heart was pounding and sweat flowed from his stinking unwashed body then all too soon he spurted into me and lay still.

My plan was in tatters as I rolled him off of me, but then I straddled his face lowering my sex over his mouth, "Do me with your tongue." I ordered," Take me to heaven again" as I smothered his face with my cunt."Yes, Oh Yes, Yes." I squealed in theatrical hysteria as I ground my spunk filled pussy against his nose and lips and then as his struggles grew weaker I choked him with my sweet golden piss, His mouth was open, his nose crushed and I just let that flow go right on in, filling his mouth blocking his windpipe, and I was holding his weakened body so firm he could do nothing, no escape, no shouts no breathing,just piss bubbling as he gulped it into his lungs as my crotch filled his mind as he writhed, apparently in ecstacy as he died.

I collapsed over him, and only when I was sure his heart was no longer beating, I asked "Where are the Guys."

"Henry!" some woman screamed.  "Henry"  She was old and worn, she rushed up to Longthorn, "Is he all right?" she asked.

"Ecstatic!" I told her, but his head lolled sideways and the piss spilled out.

"He's dead!" Sheriff LaMont announced, "Shit we ain't got no cullment man."

"Hell Sheriff, Alexis done cullment for his diploma."  Karl Wineberger told him.

"That right Al" Sheriff LaMont asked.

"Yes Sir,"

"Looks like you come second then Al, lucky I can offer you a vacancy as Cullment operative, hell you even got the ugly po face and fat belly you need for the job."

"I should say thank you, but I guess it's Miss Louisa I should thank." ALexis said as he took my filthy hand and kissed it.

"First off cull that useless bitch." John LaMont ordered,  as he pointed at Edith Longthorn "She ran out of credits ages ago."

I stepped down from that platform to a standing ovation, something I could never have dreamed of if I had lived my life as I intended.  I had killed a man and saved a man, it seemed monstrous.

I returned to my cell ad discarded the dress, customers queued and I let them do as they pleased as my mind floated and mused these weighty things as my body thrilled to the constant attention of the men.

I had suddenly become popular again, over the next few days I was seldom alone, but I became aware that men were queueing and then they brought the chair.

One stood against the wall, he lifted me and lowered me on to his penis, then number two pushed up my anus, then the third stood on the chair to the side and I was able to suck him as well,  I saw my old friends watching, their mock disgust hiding envy, it seemed so unfair.

I became less submissive, making them wait if I wanted to use my toilet hole, and complaining if the men were not exciting enough, and then the seasons changed becoming cooler, sometimes I shivered myself to sleep, dreaming of Tom and his warm bed,

I felt insects living in my hair, how many months had it been since I had washed it, washed at all in fact,  I felt that I was getting positively fat, I felt disgusting yet still the men came, and they brought me presents food, exotic juices, and my old friends would stop and gossip, them dressed to the neck, me naked and often we chatted as some man fucked at me, I became inured then dissatisfied.

I doodled figures in the dirt with my fingers and decided things were not right, I needed to change things but men just fucked me and women had no time for matters of law and politics

One morning when it was all quiet, perhaps four in the morning, I woke and decided to take a walk, my hair rope was not attached to anything but after all that time walking felt strange my skin had healed but to take several steps in succession with no one to guide me felt most odd.

I walked slowly, down towards my old home, the gates had a fresh coat of paint but I stood stock still in amazement when I saw the house, it was gone. A new structure was being built in its place, I had never seen a new place being built before, but why on the site of my house?

I wandered on down the familiar road in confusion, down towards his house, Tom Chamber's house.

I remembered his kisses from my time as his personal whore as I gazed at his house, at his bedroom, it seemed so long ago that he brought me there I walked on beyond his house to the bridge over the steam, or was it a river.

I imagined when four automobiles could travel abreast across the bridge before the foundations spread and dropped three of its four girders into the water, and as the rising sun sparkled off the tiny ripples I decided it was a good time to die.

I  walked down the girder into the cool water and as it reached my chest I reached out to swim away, as I had seen other slaves do, but I sank, immediately to the soft mud that lined the bottom and my attempts to get back to the surface were hopeless.

I gulped for air but the mouthful of water drove me deeper, my lungs were agony and then my brain, a terrible pain in my brain, I began hallucinating, I thought had been scalped, I coughed up water and dragged in air. "Oh no you don't." I heard a familiar voice saying. and I realised Tom was holding me up with the rope matted into my hair,  "Sit on that girder and wash yourself, you are not coming in my house like that."

"Why, what, um. are you here?" I asked.

"I might ask you the same." Tom replied.

He rested a hand on my stomach. "Has it kicked yet?"

I held my head in my hands. "Oh, I it was a nice morning, what that? kicked?"

"You can't face having my baby, is that it, well sorry missy your fun's over."

Suddenly the nausea and everything made perfect sense, I was carrying his baby.

He carried me to the workshop and laid me down, and threw rag at me to dry myself then he  pliers and files and took away my rings and taking his knife he cut away my matted hair.

Finally he sat me on a chair and cut the stitches on my collar.

"Its over." he slid the embroidered sleeve from the collar. "Do you understand, over."

"Yes Tom"

He slapped me. " Say, Yes Master," he said, "now you try."

"Yes Master."

He slapped me again. across the other cheek.

"Ouch that's not fair."

He grinned, "You are a hopeless slave, total slut but hopeless slave."

"It was horrible" I said.

"John told me all about it they heard your wailing two blocks away at times."

I blushed, and he continued " but what have you been drawing in the mud, figures, sums?"

"What, every man in town had used me and you want to know about my sums."

"Yes." he said.

"Its about energy usage, the proportions are wrong now that we no longer have automobiles, or fly or have air conditioning."

"Yes" he said I noticed he was soaking wet as he peeled off his trousers and shirt.

I explained the hypothesis and he sat on the workbench by me.

"Turn to the right." he ordered. "And move closer." suddenly I was facing him his knees outside my shoulders and he gently eased my head forwards.

His penis smelled good and tasted even better, I made love to it cajoling the cream to spill down my throat, it was like drinking nectar.

I licked my lips, "Ummm"

"You didn't listen to a word I said," he accused.

"Sorry"

"John LaMont has made enquiries, and we got you a chance to petition the senate for a change in cullment, it means a cut of fifty per cent in allowable energy usage but a doubling of pre cullment years is the quid pro quo."

"Why me?"

"Because you are the teacher who became Town Whore to survive."

"And"

"Because you love me."

"And"

"I love you."

John took me inside the house and left me there, he went off out into the morning mists to return later with Martha LaMont.

"Stitch that collar on good," he ordered and she set to work, "And wash the bitch"  he stalked off.

"What" I said uncertain of what he wanted.

"Hush Louisa." Martha cautioned, "Hush." she waited until Toom was out of earshot.

"He has been in a bad way Louisa," Martha said, "Tom could not bear to see you the way you were, but he was often around, checking up on you."

"I know."  I admitted.

Martha told me Tom had lost patience with me, I was his  slave and I needed to learn obedience.

Tom returned an hour or so later Martha was being really rough with me scrubbing me all over she had clipped my wrist cuffs to my collar and I could do nothing to stop her.

He stood there, watching. "Mina was only too pleased to return to the Court House," he told me, so now you do exactly what I say."

"I suppose so." I said.

He turned to Martha and thanked her, asked her to leave us, and took me inside the house, it was like before except he told me to start cleaning the place, somehow it seemed more demeaning that being used by men, I felt somehow different, lonely, it was strange being alone, I found little to clean downstairs and so I went upstairs, looking around the familiar scene, except the clothes Tom had saved for me were no longer there, nothing.  It was somehow a shock  but in the back room I found my sewing box, and in boxes I found my books.

He made me cook his meal, I made enough for two but he tipped the extra away and made me watch him eat, then he let me eat bread and water.

He showed me a corner of the kitchen and told me to put the lights out and sleep on the floor there, it was cold and lonely. I dozed fitfully but after a while I could stand it no longer and went upstairs, "What kept you?" he asked putting his book down and throwing the bedclothes back.

I climbed in and he held me in his arms and fell asleep. and before I knew it was bright daylight and he was standing by the bed, "You are a hopeless slave, it really is time to face that fact," he insisted, so get up and read the Confederation rules on slavery and the slave exchange regulations, and I want a written report by tonight."

I checked the regulations, Whites could be slaves in the north, those who failed inteligensia examinations, were regraded, and Southern state slaves could be taken north and brought back again, except we did not have the same regulation in the south, failed intelligensia were slaves in the north, our free people retained their cullment dates even in the Confederation, and their Intelligensia, retained theirs in the south, Anyone who failed to pass an intelligensia test, my mind swam.

I ate some dinner, it was against regulations but I made myself some and sat and ate, then it hit me, anyone who failed an intelligensia test was regraded as a slave in the north with an equivalence to a southern slave, so if anyone in the south failed an intelligensia test they could be regraded as a slave under the equivalence rules.

I wrote it down.  It bothered me.

Tom came home, I sat waiting at his table, and showed him my work.

"I guess I was right" he said, "I figured that was the case, John LaMont said to get you to do it."

"What is this about?" I asked

"Cullment Quotas, Eliza Roberts is down for Cullment, her eldest Veronica is coming up eighteen."he paused, "and she can look after her sister when she is eighteen and "I stopped him mid sentence.

"Oh Thomas, no, you can't turn her into a slave."

"No, but her sister is only four, its fourteen years of her mothers life, is life as a whore really so bad?"

"Thomas!"

"Its only until we get the quotas renegotiated."

To Be Continued.