New Slavery Laws Pass Supreme Court Muster


by Charlotte Eaker


Special to the Washington Post, 4 July 2021. By a vote of 7 to 2, the Supreme Court upheld the right of states to use slavery as a punishment for crime, stating that the 13th Amendment did not prohibit such practice, and that while the punishment was “unusual,” it was not necessarily “cruel” under the 8th Amendment.

Four states so far have instituted legal slavery as part of the Shame Coalition’s political agenda, which is designed to use public humiliation and degradation as a tool to promote a lessening of criminal and antisocial behavior.

Three states have also permitted the use of voluntary slavery for economic gain, in which people sell themselves for a stated period of time for an agreed-upon sum. The courts are expected to uphold these laws as well, as long as appropriate legal protections are available for such slaves.

Another part of the Court’s decision permits the use of various mind-altering drugs and devices for criminal slaves to ensure their obedience and good behavior; such drugs and devices can only be used for voluntary slaves if their contracts permit.

Public reaction has been mixed, especially on those parts of the law specifically permitting sexual use of slaves.


Chapter One


“The most important thing in a relationship between a man and a woman is that one of them be good at taking orders.”

- Linda Festa




Like a lot of young girls, Sabrina Swann had fantasies about slavery...being a slave was a sexy thought, a cute fantasy, but never something a nice girl would dream of. Owning a slave, or using a slave, either male or female, was a shuddery, kinky kind of thought, best reserved for private dreams.

Sexual slavery was for pay-per-view movies or late-night cable, a quick furtive peek at a sexy world where good girls (and not-so-good boys) found themselves trapped and used, always finding true love at the end.

Slavery —real slavery —was for criminals who deserved the shame and humiliation, or for sluts and would-be gigolos looking for a fast dollar. While her life had not been one of high privilege, it had been a comfortable one in the upper levels of the middle class, public school but a good one in a good suburban neighborhood, private college assured, good social connections and a strong future. She was smart, she was capable, she was attractive, she was class-appropriate. Sabrina Swann was a good girl.

She lost her virginity to a college boy on a skiing trip and then fell in love with another college boy —the son of a Senator, handsome and rich with a hot car and great prospects. He couldn’t keep his hands off her and she delighted in the feelings those hands awoke, and grew to love the feel of his pulsing cock under her hand and sliding between her legs and into her, and the feel of his mouth on her mouth and her pussy, and even the feel of her mouth on his cock. The back seat of his car and sometimes their respective parents’ house when they were away and sometimes a friend’s apartment or a dorm room and once even a hotel room were places of passion and growing love. But even better was being on his strong arm in public, at the right parties and events. She had a clear picture of their future together, and it was good. She graduated from high school and entered college and had a 4.0 going into her junior year, majoring in business and finance.


College provided a world of new temptations and she sampled some of them, privately, somewhat gingerly, finding the emotions and passions they unleashed to be somewhat overpowering. She pledged a good sorority, and her initiation was to be a party slave. They dressed her in scanty clothes and she served cocktails at a party. The guys felt her up and teased her and it was embarrassing and humiliating for her, though she played along like a good sport. But what was most humiliating was the powerful erotic charge she got when her sorority sisters cuffed her ankles and her wrists, and she really felt like a slave.

Then came the paddling line and she had never been spanked before, and the paddle-wielding sorority sisters were strong and cruel and she found herself reduced quickly to tears, but at the same time she felt wet, humiliatingly so because she had never had a sexual attraction to women and now she was so aroused she was nearly ready to do anything.

They blindfolded her and tied her hands together over her head and slipped the rope over a hook in the ceiling, then when she felt utterly helpless and vulnerable someone dropped an ice cube down the back of her short dress and the sensation was so surprising and so maddening that she screamed and wriggled trying to shake the ice cube out. When she heard male laughter she realized there was a voyeur audience watching her, and with another ice cube she found herself putting on a stripper’s dance for an unknown audience. Her nipples were so stiff they hurt; her thighs clenched together and sent pulses of pleasure through her pussy —with a shock, she realized she was secretly masturbating in front of an audience! And all the helplessness and all the teasing and all the humiliation finally triggered a powerful and secret orgasm; she moaned and twisted and hoped she convinced everyone it was only the ice cubes that made her dance and twist so erotically.

That Saturday night she made her boyfriend get them a motel room and brought her little slave costume with her and she couldn’t believe how hot she got, how submissive she felt as she knelt in front of him to suck his cock. She wanted him to really use her, to treat her as his slave for the evening, but he didn’t quite understand, couldn’t quite cope with her level of arousal and need, and it was basically unsatisfying for her. She never shared that sort of feeling with him again.

In her sophomore year, a few of her sorority sisters banded together to buy a fraternity initiate as a weekend slave. She watched the auction, mouth dry with increasing passion as the boys were paraded out one at a time, wearing mere loincloths and the shackles of slave status. More than one had bulged out the loincloth with growing passion and arousal; it was as sexy for them as for her. She was too embarrassed to bid, but her sisters did and she gladly paid her share and they took a young victim from the stage, giggling and blushing with their own aroused embarrassment. Sabrina brushed her hand lightly over his loincloth, not quite believing her own action, and started with surprise as his cock gave a sudden lurch.

The girls paraded their acquisition through the dormitory, letting the other girls toy with their new pet, showing off their new possession. It was so much fun to tease, and the combination of blushing boy-toy and stiff erection was too much to resist. Giggling and clustering around, they mocked his helpless lust in cooing expressions of fake pity, commented on his equipment, and probed his helpless, shackled body with teasing fingers until he squirmed in near-ticklish agony. And then —to his utter horror and the girls’ delight —he let out the first stifled snort of restrained ticklish laughter, which prompted the girls to observe, “Are you ticklish, little slave boy?”

With the approval of the owners, the sorority girls dragged their tickle-victim into the TV room and pushed him to the floor to begin their attack. He screamed with terrified laughter as the kneeling girls attacked with wiggling fingers. “Cootchie-cootchie-koo,” one girl laughed, her red-painted fingernails digging into his sides. It took two girls to sit on his convulsing legs, holding his body down in spite of his desperate struggles. One girl took each helpless naked foot and began running fingers over the exposed sole, bringing new shrieks of ticklish laughter from their prisoner. Underarms and belly became the property of still more sorority girls until he was awash in pretty girl-flesh, buried in a sea of tickling fingers and girlish perfume.

Sabrina noticed that his cock, which had slipped out from under the loincloth, was hard and purple and glistening with the first drops of his desperate need. Although she was reluctant to join in the tickle-orgy, she was fascinated by her slaveboy’s screams of laughing agony and found herself growing wetter by the moment.

By the time his laughter had turned into breathless wheezes, the sorority sisters were finally ready to show at least a little mercy, and the purchasers were ready to drag their slave into their own room for more personal service. Sabrina enjoyed the sense of envy as she helped lead the slaveboy away.

She was a good girl, though she hadn’t been one hundred percent faithful to her boyfriend in the post-AIDS sexual re-liberation period. Nor, she suspected (but didn’t ask), had he been completely faithful to her. But she didn’t screw around. Now she was part owner of a nearly-naked slaveboy for a weekend, and she didn’t quite know what to do. Buying him was mostly a lark, but she felt an amazing level of arousal. She stood back at first, letting her two girlfriends have first crack at the slave.

They tied him spreadeagled to the bars of the brass bed with scarves, removed his loincloth, and one perched on each side beside him. They began to stroke him sensually, but his body had been so hypersensitized by the insane tickling that even their gentle touches reduced him to giggles. That induced them to tickle him again until he was nearly ready to wet himself, and that made them stop.

Sabrina was embarrassed to get undressed and have sex in front of her roommates, but no such inhibitions slowed them down. The two girls slithered out of their jeans and shirts and panties, smiling down at their victim as he stared at them with his towering need. He begged, “Please...don’t tease me any more. I’ll do anything.”

“Of course you will,” they cooed, and returned to teasing, kissing him, stroking him, toying with his leaking erection until he was shaking with desire. And then one girl straddled his face to urge his tongue to worship her wetness while the other began to nibble and tease at his penis, licking off the drops of fluid as they appeared one by one.

Sabrina couldn’t stand it any more. She sat down in a chair beside the bed to watch the scene, first sliding her hand up her sides, then cupping her breasts, then slowly sliding up her skirt to slip one hand into her panties. She was embarrassed but aroused, riveted to the sight of a naked, erect slaveboy licking his mistress’ pussy while his cruelly teased cock twitched under its slow, delicious torture.

And when she finished in a gasping orgasm, the other girl announced, “I need cock in me.”

“What about Sabrina?” asked the roommate who’d just finished riding her slave’s mouth.

“Don’t mind me,” said Sabrina, nearly gasping with her own desire, approaching her orgasm. With a shrug, the other girl straddled their bound victim and with one hand guided his cock into her; he moaned and arched his back as his deprived cock received its deliverance.

“Oh my god,” the girl moaned as the cock filled her. “I don’t think he’s going to last. Sabrina —help. Wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and squeeze. Just for a few minutes. Please.”

Sabrina blushed but her arousal was too high. She slid her hand between the fucking couple, touching intimate girlflesh for the first time in her life, wrapped her hand around the shaft and imprisoned it in clenched fingers as she felt the wet slaps of fucking on her hand, faster and faster. “Yes —yes —oh god yes —OH! OH! OH!” the girl moaned as she shuddered through a convulsive orgasm and flopped wetly onto her slave.

Finally she slid off the cock, leaving it full of come and glistening with her juices. “Okay, Sabrina,” she commanded. “Now it’s your turn. Finish him off any way you like.”

The boy looked at her with pleading eyes and her pussy was wet and needy and his cock was hers to do anything she liked with. But what was sexiest of all was the expression of desperate need and desire on his face. At that moment, he needed her more than anything in the world, needed what she could do for him. That erection belonged to her, to tease or to satisfy. He belonged to her. Focusing on his eyes, devouring him with her gaze, she slipped her hand back between her legs and took his twitching, hot, pulsing cock in her tight little fist and slowly stroked it, teasing it as she got closer and closer to her own climax. “Now —” she whispered. “Shoot for me.” And she stroked him as his eyes got big and his body tensed and her hand moved faster right up to the edge and “Oh my god!” she gasped as he surrendered the messy evidence of his passion and need in spurt after spurt into her hand, their eyes locked together as her own climax began and she pumped him until his belly was sticky with come and she was quivering with spent passion.

“Why didn’t you fuck him, or at least have him eat you?” her roommates asked later.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t feel like cheating with him, and it was so sexy having him all tied up and needy and helpless —I had a good time and I got exactly what I wanted.”

“Whatever,” she replied, not quite understanding. But her roommates had gotten what they wanted, a weekend of fucking and sucking. And Sabrina had what she wanted —a vivid image of a naked, helpless slave.


Then her world turned upside down.