Mike
ran his eye over the latest circular from the Home Secretary’s Department. He smiled as he noted the photos. Oh yes, he would certainly be going down to
look over some of these beauties in person …
Times had changed. No longer could a criminal expect a term in
prison for his or her misdeeds. Oh there
was still a range of other penalties for lesser offences but if you erred in a
big way, forget all about jail for they had been abolished, razed to the ground
and the land sold. In their place, major
offenders now faced a life of slavery.
Yes, real slavery – for the rest of their lives.
Mike was reading down the
latest list of female criminals. He had
studied to be a slave trainer and had held his license for eight years. He was one of the best but any girl he bought
knew she was in for a bad time of it.
He specialised in
females. Others took only males and
some, a very few, took both. Licences
were not, however, restricted to males.
If you were a woman, went through the course and demonstrated you could
control your slaves, you were perfectly acceptable as a trainer and many women
bought exclusively males.
Of course you had to have
the money to start out, or demonstrate to a bank that you could make a go of
it. It wasn’t cheap. You had to buy or build a suitable slave
barracks, train and pay your staff and then have the working capital to
purchase the criminals from the state.
The system worked very
well. It actually returned a profit to
the government and got rid of the criminal element from society once and for
all. It had come about after a
particularly horrifying series of terrorist attacks in the United States during
which public demands had tipped the government’s hand into re-establishing
slavery for certain classes of crime.
And then the United Kingdom had been the victim of a similar attack
after which a perfectly sane serial killer had ritually tortured and then murdered
dozens of young men and women. The calls
to follow the American example had been overwhelming.
Gradually the scheme had
been refined to its present state where any major offender faced a permanent
loss of his or her citizenship and a life of shame, ridicule and very, very
hard work; very few, if any creature comforts and no possibility of a return to
his or her citizenship. It had an
immediate – and continuing - effect on the crime rate. It slashed serious offences by half and then
some, but of course there were always those who thought they could beat the
system.
Mike employed some six
other men, all of whom he had trained himself and were physically as fit and as
muscular as he was. All of his men were
required to be able to control any female slave single-handed and
without need of stunguns, whips or prodders. Now he called for Joel, his latest man.
“We’re going down to the
slave sales, Joel. I’ll want you to
bring the truck. Be there at three,
please.”
“Sure, Boss.” The young man grinned at his employer. For all his hard-bitten ways, the young black
admired his boss very much. He had
competed with a dozen others for this job and although he knew he was well
qualified for it (having successfully completed nearly half of the course for a
licence of his own), he also thought his infectious smile and good looks
probably had something to do with it as well.
He was almost as tall as Mike at 1.8 metres but his body was absolutely
superb without being gross.
Mike drove down to the
slave auction centre in the old prisoner holding area of the Old Bailey and
showed his licence to the porter at the door.
Only licensees were permitted entry here. It would be unthinkable to let the ordinary
public get their hands on one of these slaves before he or she had been
properly trained and conditioned to their slavery. The process was pretty severe but it was
necessary. These men and women were at
this moment still criminals. It would
take weeks, sometimes months to cow them and turn them permanently into proper
slaves. Only the skill and determination
of a licensed trainer could achieve that.
Once inside he turned
towards the primary display area and then into the female section. He wasn’t interested in males unless he
needed one or two as labour and at this time, with two big muscle hunks to do
the heavy work back at his barracks, he didn’t need any more.
There were over a hundred
and fifty females on display this morning and as Mike entered the room, he
looked them over with interest. Of
course he would only bid on the best: the youngest, the better looking and
those with good bodies. This was a
business and he was the best in it. He
only trained and sold the best slaves.
He smiled to himself as he
thought of the ultimate fate of those he trained. They would not be going to their owners as
domestics or even as sources of simple labour.
Oh no. His slaves were destined
as sex-slaves. The very rich and
powerful among the nation’s male leaders these days now all had their own female
body-slaves (most provided their wives with a male counterpart – and of course
the same went for the reverse). These
slaves’ functions were to give exquisite pleasure to their owners – for as long
as it was required. The road to this
goal was hard and rocky and not a few fell by the wayside to end up as drudges
or muscle-slaves. Mike still made a
profit from such failures but it was a very much smaller one and in any case he
didn’t like failures.
In the display room, the
girls stood on small stone plinths, showing off their wares to the licensees
who thronged around them. They really
were mostly girls for there were few older or even middle-aged women among the
criminal classes nowadays – age brings wisdom and few older women thought they
could beat the new, beefed-up methods now used by the Met. to
detect major crime.
They were naked. As soon as they had been convicted, sentenced
to slavery for life and taken down to the holding area, they had been ordered
to strip off their clothes; every last one of them, handing over watches and
any jewellery with the last of their underwear until they were quite nude.
The guards always felt
them over then, grinning lecherously at them and at each other as their big,
beefy hands strayed over soft breasts pert butts and fully exposed
vaginas. No-one ever criticised them for
this. These women had lost any right to
privacy or to the normal human courtesies the moment they became slaves. The same thing happened to the men of course
but there, while the guards were still big and muscular, they were also mostly
gay and delighted in feeling and fondling the naked young men in their care –
to their shame and chagrin.
The plinths were made of
limestone and were half a metre high.
Each slave was locked to it by an ankle cuff on a very short chain
attached at one side of its top and every single one of them looked somewhat
dazed, as if still unaware that she was now a real-life slave, about to be
auctioned to the highest bidder among these dozens of licensed slave trainers.
Mike had his program in
his hand and while he checked out each of the girls as he passed down the first
row of blocks, he already knew which of them he was interested in. Number twenty-six was the first. She was black and from her photo, had a
really good body. She had been convicted
of multiple burglaries – she was a cat burglar and her body showed her fitness
for this most exacting of criminal activities.
He wasn’t disappointed
when he saw her in the flesh, either.
She was quite tall and superbly built with fluid muscles that bespoke a
natural grace often attributed to the Negro races. Jeanne was tall and
magnificently athletic but for all her young years – she was only nineteen and
thus perfect for a sex-slave – her face displayed an arrogance that indicated
she would need severe discipline to bring her into line. Mike made a note to bid high on this one.
He didn’t feel her
down. He didn’t need to. Not that it wasn’t done;
many of his competitors were doing so to this so beautiful black girl but he
was well aware this was as much for their own lecherous enjoyment as a real
need to assess the girl’s flesh.
He moved on to his next
selection. This one was a blonde. She had been a lady in society. Not titled but definitely upper-class. Alas, she thought she was immune from the new
laws in her nefarious schemes to extort money by blackmailing her lovers. She wasn’t as tall as Jeanne but her body was
just as svelte if not quite as muscular.
Her name was Courtney (they didn’t use surnames here since these were
lost to them at the moment of sentence) and her face was haughty. She too would need a lot of pain to bring her
into line.
The next girl was
Japanese. Her name was Alula and she was
just twenty years old. Her body was
quite exquisite: slender but with beautiful curves while still being trim, taut
and terrific. She was already quite nude
of hair all over her body and Mike smiled as he stared down at her beautiful
pussy, the lips were not too prominent and they hid her inner charms but he
knew that would be a plus for many of his clients.
The last girl on his list
he rejected as soon as he saw her in the flesh.
Her photograph had not shown the coarseness of her skin and this was
something he could not rectify. He spent
some more time checking out the other girls on offer but then went for a cup of
coffee and a sandwich. The actual
auction would be at one and it was held in a different room in the complex.
At five to one he was
sitting in a good seat near the front of the room, waiting for the chain that
drew the slaves out of the holding area and into this room to start
moving. He grinned as he thought of how
shameful this method of displaying them for sale was. The chain was attached to the heavy rail that
was suspended on bars from the ceiling as were carcasses in the old-fashioned
butchers’ shops of the previous century.
Ah, the motor had started
up and here was the first girl coming out.
She was suspended with her feet dangling a half metre above the
floor. Her wrists were encased in leather
manacles that dangled from a short chain on a runner that ran along the
rail. As the motorised chain moved, it
drew her and behind her, every other one of the slavegirls
on offer today, out of the holding room through the aperture from the top of which
dangled heavy rubber strips. Each girl
was drawn through these to begin her journey right around the four sides of the
big room, only stopping when she was adjacent to the auctioneer’s podium.
The girl dangled quite
forlornly, breasts flattened against her chest from her suspension, legs
kicking a little, showing off her nakedness wonderfully. Behind her, separated by three metre
intervals, were the other girls on offer, all in the same order as their
program number so those who wished to buy would be quite sure which one they
were bidding for.
The auctioneer didn’t
waste time extolling her virtues. These
men (and a few women) were all experienced slave trainers. They had already looked over the merchandise
and would be annoyed by a drawing out of the sale process.
Mike sat patiently through
the first twenty-five items but he had had his eye on number twenty-six from
the moment she had emerged through the aperture over there to the left and
behind the auctioneer’s podium. He had
then watched as she had been dragged down his left side, stopping every three
metres while the next girl in line was sold.
She would then move another three metres and so on. He didn’t follow her while she was behind
him. He didn’t want to advertise his
interest in her but when she came back into his line of sight on the right side, he kept looking at her, thinking how good a profit he
might make from her body.
And what a body! Few of his slaves thus far matched her for
beauty but those muscles bespoke a great deal of sexual energy – at least after
she was trained, anyway.
He didn’t bid at
first. He knew she was one of the best
on offer and she would bring a good price to the Exchequer’s coffers without
him pushing the price higher than necessary.
But then at the end, when the auctioneer had already knocked her down
once, he topped the bid by four units – and clinched the deal for himself. She disappeared back into the holding area to
be tagged with his name and licence number and then to a cell to await
collection by Joel.
They didn’t give her any
clothing. Not even a rag to cover her
sex or her lovely breasts. That was a
matter entirely for her trainer. He might
allow her a modicum of covering or he might not. In Mike’s case, not. He kept his slaves totally nude for the whole
of their training. He felt it added to
their shame and humiliation and thus aided in the conditioning process that
turned them from free citizens, albeit criminal ones, into compliant and
competent slavegirls.