Penal slavery was seen right across the globe
as the greatest boon to mankind since God knows when.
It began about fifteen years ago when the leaders of the
US, Russia, China, India and Europe got their heads together and decided that
the ever-growing incidence of major crime including a seemingly unstoppable
religious terrorism of epic proportions that had whole nations paralysed, major
fraud and theft, street crime including attacks on the elderly and defenceless
by teenage streets gangs, physical assaults including wife-bashing and child
abuse (especially paedophilia) to name but a few, had to be addressed and that
they must not baulk at developing a system that would address the problem fast
and definitively.
They came up with criminal penal slavery for all major
crime – and that it should be draconian in design and execution.
With no opposition, the proposal was agreed to by the
Security Council and then the General Assembly of the United Nations and twelve
years ago, it came into being.
The horribly expensive, and so useless prisons were all
abolished and razed to the ground, their land being sold to be replaced by
State Slave Centres that would process the newly-made
slaves. The former prisons had been not
only costly to run but were bursting at the seams and absolutely
useless as a remedial organ. Yes,
they kept the worst criminals off the streets but they were so overcrowded that
the courts were reluctant to send any but the very worst offenders there and
the whole judicial and penal system was seen as a joke.
My name is Andy Somers and I am (or was) the
only son of loving parents who moved to the Gold Coast about thirty years
ago. My dad was an insurance broker who
did pretty well for himself but never updated his house or bought expensive
cars and clothing, etc. Mum worked in a
real estate agency and was licensed so their joint income was pretty good.
They invested heavily in real estate which at the time
was relatively cheap on the Gold Coast and used the rental income to pay off
the loans they required – and did so pretty rapidly,
too, I might add. They chose the
properties wisely, and by the time of their demise had twenty-one of them, all
now worth an average of around $800,000.
Dad had also arranged substantial life assurance policies for them both
(as a backstop in case anything went wrong with the property market).
Dale and I are of an age and we both studied business
management at Griffith University and then luckily both secured employment at a
reputable business advisory firm here on the Gold Coast. We intended to marry but wanted to wait until
we had a substantial deposit to put down on a house. We thought another year of hard-headed
saving might do it.
And then tragedy struck.
My parents and Dale’s had become good friends and we had
seen the four of them off on an aircraft headed for Singapore where they were
to join a cruise liner to make its way back to Australia via Southeast
Asia. Alas they never even made it to
Singapore. In yet another of those awful
terrorist hijacks, the plane was flown into a mountain and everyone on board
died.
We both went over to recover the bodies and bring them
home and of course mourned the loss of two sets of wonderful parents. But then it was time to take stock of our
lives and what we wanted to do with them.
I haven’t yet mentioned that both of us are keen gymnasts
– this was actually how we got together in the first place, joining the
Griffiths University Gymnastics Club and training twice-weekly at the
sport. This branch of sporting
recreation creates the most athletic-looking bodies of any sport and that was
another factor in the development of our relationship – but it also qualified
us as physical trainers and over the months and years as we had watched the
introduction and development of institutionalised and legal slavery, we had
slowly come up with the idea that there was something missing from the mix of
levels in the slave marketing, training and sale system.
The state slave centres, already mentioned above, were
set up under the Department of Slave Management that replaced the old Ministry
of Corrections, but their purpose was merely to receive the newly-made slaves
from the courts, strip them naked and denude them of all hair below their eyes
(both for cosmetic as well as identification reasons) and then sell them off
the next Saturday.
But for the most part, they were an unprepossessing
bunch: overweight or skinny, ugly and of a surly disposition. Except for the white-collar, younger
criminals, they were therefore not at all expensive to buy as training and
guarding them was seen as a rather expensive burden for little reward.
But of course private slave dealerships also sprang up
and they took this raw material and tried to condition and train them to return
a profit. Dale and I, in our discussions
on this subject envisaged something much more sophisticated. We would select only the best of those on
sale each Saturday and then really get stuck into their bodies and minds in
order to create top-class personal slaves as valets/body-slaves, exponents of
the very best sexual pleasure and perhaps slave-ponies.
I mentioned above that the institution as envisaged by
the governments of the world were to be draconian in design and execution. This meant, among other things, that they
were to be worked as hard as their bodies were capable of for at least fifteen
hours a day, every day of the week, every week of the year – no
exceptions!
But the cost of keeping a slave or slaves was also of
prime concern. The catering departments
of the old prisons had been expensive operations and so the dieticians and
food-processing boffins were charged with finding a cheap but adequate means of
feeding slaves.
They came up (even before the institution was actually
legalised) with a product they called Slave Chow which was produced from cheap
but still nutritious cast-off foodstuffs including meat, vegetables and grain
that could be measured in the right proportions into the cauldrons of giant
machines that first steamed, then masticated the resultant food to a mash,
partially dried it as it was extruded in one-centimetre thick tubes and cut off
at the two-centimetre mark, then fully dried and either bagged in paper bags
(for single-owner slave-holders), sacks for a few, or in bulk for large
slave-owners.
For this latter system, dispensing machines were invented
that were affixed on the inside of an outside wall of the slave quarters, and
on the outside and at the same place in the wall was attached a medium or
large-sized hopper accessible to a bulk delivery truck to feed the actual
dispenser. The hopper/s could then be
topped up as required.
With these dispensers, the slaves merely lined up night
and morning and moved forward, placed their cupped hands under the chute and
leaned forward to press the delivery bar with their foreheads. They then moved off, swallowing the pellets
as they did and then drank copiously from a water fountain nearby. And that was it. No cooking, no mess room, no cleaning up –
and as cheap as chips. And best of all,
as it was totally tasteless in its pelletised form, it was not at all
satisfying as regards flavour. Yes, once
the pellets reconstituted as whole cooked food in their bellies once more,
their physical hunger was assuaged, but certainly not the pleasure of eating a
meal.
And they also had to learn that there
were now only two meals a day. One before
they started work, usually at 6:00 a.m., and then they worked right through the
day, non-stop until nine that night and then were again fed and moved to their
sleeping quarters.
These too, were as basic as it was possible to make
them. There were no beds – no furniture
at all, as it happened. Just a long
wooden bench with a series of stocks to secure the wrists and neck at the head
– and there they lay, naked, probably cold and enjoined not to speak a word to
their neighbour during the night.
In fact, speech for slaves was restricted to
conversations of an essential nature with their immediate supervisor and this
was enforced automatically by another item I haven’t yet mentioned: their
genital chip.
This is a tiny, wafer-thin silicon leaf nor more than a
centimetre square. Its insertion is
simplicity itself and is undertaken on the first day of their slavery at the
SSC. All that is required is for the
genitals to be thoroughly cleaned with methylated spirits (an horribly painful
process in itself), a tiny slit then to be made on a male slave’s scrotal wall;
the peeling off of the wax paper on the adhesive side of the chip and then it is
placed onto the gonad itself. A small
Band-Aid is all that is then required.
With a female, the chip is glued to the inner, moist area of her clit.
These chips are initially linked to the master computer
at the SSC but upon sale, are transferred to the new owner’s tablet or smart
phone.
They are truly ingenious in their application. In their standard mode, they not only act as
GPS tags but also function as an attention getter or as a punishment
device. In the former role, they reveal
the wearer’s exact location to a tablet or iPhone and in the latter, give a
short, sharp zap indicating to the wearer that he or she must report to his
immediate supervisor of the moment. This
is not painful, unlike the punishment zap which is extremely so. It sends a series of highly painful shocks to
a male’s testicle or a female’s clitoris and it lasts for thirty seconds.
But there are other functions that may
be programmed into it quite easily by its owner. For example, if the slave has been ordered to
undertake a labouring task, say digging a trench, the computer system
controlling the chip will be fed information on the bodily movements of the
slave and if that class of movement is not repeated for as long as is
programmed into it, he will automatically be zapped in the punishment mode.
Or perhaps he has been ordered to undergo repeated
exercise for a specified period. The
program can remember the sequence of movements and zap the slave if he or she
deviates from it.
Yet another function is to program a destination and
timetable for an errand and if the slave deviates from either the route or the
timetable he first gets a warning signal that if he doesn’t quickly return to
the proper course on time he will be zapped with a punishment shock.
But to return to Dale’s and my plan, as
mentioned above, we believed there was room for a rather upmarket type of
dealership where top-class slaves only, would be available to the top end of
society.
We would be selecting the best of the younger end of the
slave herd at the SSC, probably mostly white-collar criminals, and we would train
them in the domestic arts and in the practice of good sex, while utilising
whatever skills they may have possessed prior to their criminal acts.
We thought it politic to start small and in that regard
as we had immediately moved into my parents’ house upon marriage, this we
undertook once our mourning for our respective parents was over.
As our discussions continued we both recognised that
continuing our work at the firm was now superfluous to our needs. But we would start small. Buy two or three likely candidates, train
them as indicated above until we were satisfied they would be perfect personal
slaves to a man or woman and then market them privately.
If we were successful in this trial operation we might
try five or six but still keeping them in my house. And then, once we were happy with the results
of our operation thus far, we might consider building a dedicated slave
training school to cater for perhaps dozens at a time.
As a result of our parents’ deaths, we were both very
wealthy people, her parents having admired my father’s investment strategy, had
followed suit and while they hadn’t had the time to achieve the same success he
had, they had managed to purchase and maintain ten properties. They had also followed him in taking out life
assurance and so we were both property and cash rich once all the legal stuff
had been taken care of.
We had decided that the property market still looked
secure and would leave the properties as they were but the insurance policy
moneys we placed on short-term deposit intending to use it to finance the
building of our school and dealership if that was what we decided to do with
our lives.
Accordingly we both resigned from the firm and then did
the rounds of our two nearest SSCs, one here on the Gold Coast and the other up
in Brisbane. They are pretty
basic buildings. Here in
Australia as in most countries the message to be imparted to new slaves was
that they were no longer considered as human beings and in fact rather less than
animals. The buildings were consequently
made of stark, un-faced concrete with iron bars for windows (and open to the elements);
the bedding, simply concrete benches and no other facilities other than a vast
exercise hall where they were put through their paces all day (except during
the inspection period) until the Saturday when they were to be auctioned.
There is one other room however: it is the display room,
where from ten in the morning until three in the afternoon, they are made to
stand on one metre high columns and pose their naked
bodies to the visiting public. It was
very early recognised that there would be hundreds and
perhaps even thousands of gawkers who would delight in coming in but with no
intention of later buying a slave.
And so to get in you had to register your genuine interest in purchasing
a slave but even so, when Dale and I looked at the other people inspecting the
slaves when we visited, we were pretty sure many of them were not genuine
buyers.
The auction room and this display room are the only ones
in the building that possess any creature comforts at all. They are panelled, carpeted and have decent
lighting as well (in the case of the auction room) as a quite attractive stage
from which they are auctioned.
On our first visit to the Gold Coast SSC, we strolled up
and down the passageways between the columns bearing the slaves on display and
stared up at them with interest. As I
indicated earlier, most of them were unprepossessing souls, especially the
middle-aged and older men and women. But
the staff in the centre had graded the slaves, firstly by sex with the
considerably lesser number of females on the right-hand side of the room, but
also by age and appearance.
Because of this, the number of people inspecting the
younger, more appealing slaves to be sold was considerably more than with the
others. Nevertheless, we were able to
tentatively select one male and one female whom we thought might be suitable
candidates for our fledgling school.
There was a placard placed into a holder at the foot of
each column indicating the slave’s name, age, his crime and the sentence. In many cases, this was for life, for
governments around the world were determined to stamp out once and for all the
crimewave in the classes I have mentioned earlier in this account and being
sentenced to slavery for the rest of one’s life was seen as a most salutary
means of achieving this very rapidly. However there were some whose term was either ten or twenty years
but nothing less than ten.
Both of the slaves we earmarked were lifers, one having
been convicted of major fraud (the male) while the female had been a rather
successful cat-burglar. She particularly already possessed a superb
body which of course is necessary in her chosen nefarious profession. But even the male had a good figure. We could improve them both, we thought, and
we would.
Of course in our own lives, our gymnastics had always
been performed either in the gym at the University or in the local one here at
Miami, near us on the Gold Coast. But we
had immediately commissioned a building to house one in the quite substantial
back garden of my parents’ home and stocked it with appropriate gymnastics
equipment. The building did not cost
that much and the equipment we could take with us to our new school if that’s
the direction we were going to take in the end.
The male’s name was Carl; he was just twenty-three years
old and yet had been at his fraudulent activities for the last three of them,
netting some $300,000 over that period. And
yet he was a quite charming-looking fellow, the old saw about ‘butter not
melting in the mouth’ being particularly appropriate in his case. He was blond with gold curly hair and bright
blue eyes and a nice face. His skin was
to be envied: smooth and velvety and without blemish.
As the genital organs of all of our slaves were going to
be a highly important part of their new role as sex-slaves – we were both very
interested in his. It was both long and
thick with the rather large testicles dangling attractively below its
root. We both wanted to see it in its
erect state but touching the slaves in any way was forbidden although we
learned that it was possible to see the manager and ask for a personal inspection
if one wished.
The female was called Fran and she was a real beauty: she
was black or rather a dark chocolate and her skin was absolutely
stupendous; so was her body: slender but as athletic as you could wish
for. Her face, like her body, was long
with high cheekbones, flashing black eyes and a cheeky smile that never seem to
leave her face.
Her sex was of the closed type which pleased me personally
for I dislike intensely an open vagina with the inner organs openly visible. I had been so pleased to find Dale was of
that form or variety but that’s rather by the way.
No other of the slaves on display here appealed to us but
having discovered that a private inspection was possible we made our way to the
office and asked if one could be arranged for these two slaves as we were
definitely interested in purchasing them come the next Saturday.
The manager was most friendly and helpful and he
personally arranged an immediate inspection of the pair of them at which we
both ran our hands over their bodies, assessing the tone of their muscles and
of course their reaction to sexual stimulation.
The expression on their faces was comical. Remember they were both new slaves and had
only been convicted days before so the whole concept of their slavery was very
new to them.
The manager had made them take up the pose known as the
Position of Inspection. It involves a
slave spreading his legs apart so as to expose his or
her sexual organs and then clasping his hands up behind his head with his
elbows pulled right back to show off the whole of his body for a hands-on
inspection of every aspect of it.
As we gazed at this display presented to us we were both
in a state of awe at the splendour and sexual excitement we both felt. I knew that because I knew Dale very well
(and of course she, me).
Not that I was tempted to have sexual relations with
either of them but especially the so beautiful Fran (for I am not at all gay or
have ever had thought of having sex with a man). In this regard, Dale is all I could ever want,
however we had discussed this aspect and had agreed that as we were both pretty
full on when it came to our own sex, we would research this matter with experts
and seek their advice as to whether we should hire specialists in this field or
whether our own competence would suffice.
The manager had assured us that as we had indicated that
we wished to train these two as sex-slaves it was therefore perfectly
acceptable for us to check out their sexual responses to stimulation. For a start, I took Fran and Dale, Carl.
I stood side on to the girl and with my right hand
stroking her so muscular and boyish buttocks, allowed my left hand to cup her
vaginal mound and to wiggle my finger against her clit, watching her face
carefully to mark her responses.
They were, as might be expected given her incredible body
and cheeky disposition, rather spectacular, giggling, squirming and clearly
delighting in my actions.