Dark Erotic Fiction

Chapter 7: Frustration

Beth started up a buzz on her pole, but Laura sat there with her hands out to one side, trying to look at the control and press buttons without knowing what the buttons did. She finally figured out VibOn meant Vibrator On, and pressed it, and found arrow keys adjacent to the button to turn it up. The resulting buzz was pleasant, but wasn’t going to be enough. She was puzzled by Heat, and tried it, and found that the warming was very pleasant. She didn’t turn that up much. The section of the control labeled Electro scared her a bit, but found that the low intensity electrical stimuli were not painful, and eventually found a setting that helped, getting her wet. However, she could still tell that it wasn’t going to be enough.

Beth was bouncing on her pole, with a loud buzz. She gave out frequent gasps. Laura tried to ask her questions about the control, but Beth was lost in her pleasure. An attendant walked by, finally, as Laura’s frustration began to boil over. The attendant smiled and took pity on her, and took the remote. “First, we’ll move the clit nub into the proper position for your clit. That should help quite a bit.” Laura felt the direct buzzing and the rush of pleasure, and gasped agreement. “We can also try different electrical things. This always works for me.” Suddenly, there was a buzz deep in her vagina, another near the entrance, and one halfway down that really felt good. Laura ground herself into the device. The attendant then pressed one more button, and the feeling at her clit was suddenly much greater. “A little electricity in just the right place.” The attendant studied Laura’s face and shaking and said, “Will that do?”

Laura gasped out “Yes.”

The attendant put the control in Laura’s hand and said, “Next time, stop and get a lesson from the attendant before you start,” and walked off. Just then Beth had a climax and sat still, and turned off her device. Laura was rising rapidly to a climax, and soon had it. She left the device doing its work, though, and reached a second. She then slowly rose from the pole. “Please turn this off for me. I would have liked a bit of help using that thing.”

Beth took the remote, turned off the device, and put the control in a hanger low on the pole. “That was on purpose. Too many women try to turn it on too high at first, and that seems to be the best way to get people to start slow.” She unhooked the leash and led Laura out of the room. As they left, Laura noticed the attendant cleaning the newly vacated poles.

Chapter 8: Armless

As they walked down the corridor, Laura saw a slave coming their way who didn’t seem to have any arms. Laura thought that this meant that the woman was wearing an armbinder that kept her arms tightly together. As the slave passed them, though, Laura saw that she in fact had no arms. Beth saw the look of amazement on Laura’s face, and said, “That’s Sandy. The story is that she was in some kind of accident that got her hands and arms mangled, and her owner just had them remove her arms. She ended up here after her skill with her mouth made her famous in some circles. She’s also quite in demand by men that want absolutely helpless women. She’s the only woman here that doesn’t need her arms bound to enter the bar.

“How can she survive with no arms?”

“It’s not easy. She has a sex staff slave permanently assigned to her, and she gets other slaves to do some things for her when she isn’t around that dedicated servant. She’s usually with a guest, though; she’s in great demand. It makes some of the others around here nervous that management may try to get more like her by cutting off a few arms. If they do that I think they’ll offer a few on the sex staff the chance to go to asset status in return for their arms.”

Chapter 9: Hot Tubbing

Beth led Laura back toward the pool. “Would you like to sit in the hot tub for a while?”

Laura said, “Yes. That would be relaxing after a nice orgasm.”

Beth led Laura to a room with several spas in it. No one else was present. They went to the farthest tub and stepped in, and Beth started the spa. As they relaxed, she said, “You wanted to know about me. It’s safe to talk for now.”

“How did you end up here?”

“As a slave, you mean? Poverty. We were poor, with no prospects. I had no way of going to college. When my parents sold off my older sister when she got to be too big of a pain, I knew my turn was coming. I just wanted to get to a place where I could stand it. I asked around, did some checking, asked a few people with connections, and found this place. Their recruiter showed me the package. I didn’t think he was telling me the truth, but the asset contract said that I couldn’t be snuffed or tortured except for special reasons, that I would get a vacation every year, and a chance to get more education. I had a lawyer at a free law clinic look at the contract, and he thought it would work. I get medical care, a stipend, and a retirement plan. I also get fucked a lot, whipped occasionally, and tied up a great deal of the time. Most of the time my life is quite pleasant.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Three years. I expect to be here for another ten to fifteen. When I get too old to be interesting, they can have me do administration work, or just let me go. It’s a lot better than being a general slave. They don’t have any outs, and there is nothing stopping the owner from doing anything they want.”

“Why do they use asset slaves, then, if they have to pay them and have other obligations?”

“They get better workers that way. Many of the general slaves are judicially enslaved or just plain stupid. I get good ratings for my work, and get treated as well as a slave gets treated in return. They have classes in sucking, fucking, bathing men, pleasing men in other ways, pleasing women, and charm. I took all the classes. I get a nice room, a TV, vcr/dvd, magazines, and the use of the sex staff in my off time. I have to use the gym and stay in shape.”

“They don’t beat you?”

“All staff slaves have to be whipped at least once a year, and unless I get whipped for an infraction or for not pleasing a guest, I get mine on my birthday. So far, I’ve only been whipped on my birthday.”

“You mentioned sex staff. They are separate?”

“Yes. They wear the green collars. Most of them are not assets. They are basically fuck toys. If a guest wants a body in a pillory for any reason, they just grab a green-collar. If a guest wants to whip someone, they just grab a green-collar. If a guest wants a suck, or to fuck, they can use any available staff slave, but there are so many green-collars around that they usually grab one of them. They don’t have as good a life.”

“I hope I don’t have to see any snuffings.”

“There aren’t many here. Management discourages them for slaves brought in. Enslaved wives can’t be snuffed. Sex staff slaves have been snuffed in rare cases, but always away from the guests. Slaves that don’t work out are usually sold.”

Another group entered the room, so they stopped talking about slave life, and discussed activities that Laura might want to try at the resort, and activities that her husband might want to try. Laura was concerned about one thing. “He’s been careful not to let anyone else fuck me enough to enslave me. If he takes off this red tag, I could get enslaved.”

“Not here you can’t. All male guests have to sign an agreement that they will not enslave anyone using sex at the resort as a basis. You can get fucked all day long and not get enslaved here.”

Laura thought that getting fucked all day sounded painful, but somehow alluring. “That’s good to know. It would be fun to pull a train again.”

Suddenly, Beth sat up straight. “My collar buzzed. That means I am to call the desk. It probably means that your husband arrived. Let’s get out, and I’ll make the call.” Shortly after that, Beth was towelling them both off. “Yes, he’s here. I am to deliver you to him in his room. The desk clerk said that he might keep me, too.”

Chapter 68: Joan Goes Home

Joan walked into her room in the dorm and locked the door behind her. That was a privilege reserved for supervisors. She unlocked her collar and removed it — something reserved for her alone, as far as she knew. She got out clothing and dressed. It felt odd any more, wearing clothes, when she spent so much time nude. She picked up her purse and left, locking her room, and left the dorm by a little-used side door.

She rode a bus to her father’s neighborhood, stopped at a grocery to buy supplies for dinner, and continued to her father’s apartment. She had considered it their apartment, but she had spent the last year living mostly in the slave dorm. She let herself in, and winced at the mess. She spent a while cleaning things up, then started to cook. When things were in the oven, she surveyed her old room and the rest of the apartment.

When her mother had died, she had left a lot of her possessions to Joan, including a rather large sum of money in a trust that Joan couldn’t access even partially until she was 21. Joan figured that was a way to protect her from her father enslaving her to get the money. Even several years ago, her mother had seen the beginnings of the decline of her father, and had acted to protect Joan as much as she could. Joan wondered whether her mother would have approved of the way she had protected herself, but decided that it was the best that she had been able to do and would have to suffice. All of her mother’s nicer things also went to Joan.

Joan knew that her father would start selling things off, and she didn’t know what might happen to her things, so before signing the asset contract she had worked with her lawyer to rent a secure storage locker downtown. It was inside with a secure door, not one of the cheap garage-like things that let water leak in and were regularly ransacked by burglars. She had borrowed a truck and taken all of her childhood things — books, mementos, records, old birthday cards from grandparents, photo albums, jewelry — and put them in her locker. She also took her mother’s things, like clothing she wanted to keep, the silver service, sterling silver cutlery, china, photographs, and books, and moved them there too. Many of the pictures on the walls were copies she had made on her computer. Her father hadn’t noticed that almost all of Joan’s stuff was gone or that his wife’s things were depleted. Joan had even taken the antique rocking chair and footstool that were the only heirloom furniture her mother had, apparently without his notice. She had noted that various things of her fathers had started to disappear. She had done her removals just in time. There wasn’t anything left in the apartment that she wanted to keep for sentimental reasons.

Joan finished making the meal and set the table, and hoped her father would come home at about the usual time. He didn’t expect her. He knew she was working in a bar, but didn’t ask which one, and didn’t know about her asset slavery.

Just after his usual time to arrive home, he appeared. He seemed happy to see Joan, and delighted at dinner. “What do I owe this visit to?” he asked.

“Just hadn’t been home in a while.”

“No, you haven’t. Is school out now?”

“Yes, the semester just ended. I’m not taking classes this summer.”

They had light conversation over the meal, which went pleasantly. That began to change after dinner, when her father fetched his drink, which she had not served at dinner, and Joan washed up. She came to the living room and sat, and saw that he was well on his way to being drunk. “How have you been lately?” she asked.

He replied, “Not so hot. I’m getting lots of hassle at work, and I’m slowly going bankrupt. I have to find a way to get more money.”

“I meant physically. Have you gone to the doctor?”

“I’m stumbling along. I don’t bother with the doctor because all he tells me to do is stop drinking.”

“Have you tried doing that?”

“Naaa. Don’t have to. I just need a way to make some money.”

He paused for a while, then said, “Buddy of mine told me that he got good money for his daughter …”

“Dad! Sell your daughter for booze money!?”

Her father looked offended. “Not just booze money. Rent. Car repair. Paying loans. Don’t have any other way of getting the money. Same buddy told me about a place that buys girls and swears to get them into nice places…”

Joan had seen the ads that she suspected were the source of his information rather than a “buddy.” She suspected that the people that said how well it worked were carefully selected, and that most girls that got sold out through there were dumped on the slave market. She decided not to tell him about how she had protected herself, and stood to leave. “Well, Dad, nice having dinner with you and the threat of slavery. See you later.” She left; he barely noticed.

Chapter 67: Delia Sucks

Delia was getting very tired. She had been on this suck trainer forever; at least it felt like forever. Her vagina was sore from the repeated shocks, and her neck was worn out from pistoning her mouth over the dildo. She had finally gotten her mouth position to match the display, and she had been getting fewer shocks, but they still came too often. Finally, the mouth position indicator went dark, and the machine dragged her down onto the dildo, positioning it deeply in he throat, and left it there. Delia almost panicked, but then found a way to breathe, and just waited. Shortly after that, Louise unhooked her from the machine and let her stand, then hooked her leash to a tie down point. Charlene looked at the display on the trainer. “Not a great score, but as good as complete newbies usually get. Have her repeat this program. I’ll put you on a deep-throat program. Clean up the dildos and get the shocker inserted, and I’ll be back.”

As Louise worked, she asked Delia, “Are you OK?”

“Yes, just sore at both ends.”

“You have to keep up on this thing, and pay attention.”

Charlene came back, locked the special cuffs on Louise, and started the machine. The neck strap dragged Louise all the way down onto the dildo and held her there for a while, then released most of the tension and the mouth position indicator started moving, almost exclusively indicating a deep mouth position. The program had Louise moving much more slowly than the previous program, at least at the beginning. Slowly Louise started to figure out the pattern of the program, and was able to keep up. This program didn’t last as long. When the cuffs fell off and the neck strap loosened, Louise saw that she had gotten a great score. Louise cleaned the equipment and put Delia on it.

Delia moaned. “First I get whipped, then tortured on this thing. Do you have to put me back on it?”

Louise continued preparing the machine. “Yes. They can see if you are on it, and there is a computer record of the training session. I don’t want to be whipped for not doing what I was told to do. The whipping you got was next to nothing. You’ll get worse if you don’t apply yourself.” Louise started the machine and saw that this time Delia was doing better. “After this session and my next one, we’ll take a break for the bathroom and maybe something to drink.”

Hours later, Delia and Louise went to the dorm coordinator. Both were sore, but Delia was much more sore than Louise. Her scores had improved to the point of being acceptable at the introductory level. When they saw the coordinator, she assigned them to a small room with two bunks and two small bookcases. Delia saw the chain and the key, and figured out what they were for. “Why don’t you get a chain, too?”

“They told me that I will get a lower supervision level because of my record here. You don’t have a record with this place. You haven’t been a slave for long, have you?”

“Less than a week. Seems like forever.”

“Don’t expect things to be fair, or for every slave to be treated the same. The masters can be arbitrary, and they will be. It seems that they are going to be strict with you for some reason. You might as well get used to it and fit in to what they expect. We’ll be here for a long time. We can’t even catch a noose to get out. Most of the girls that don’t survive noose sucks don’t want to survive them. All we can do is try to make our masters happy, and that includes the slaves that have authority. Our lives will probably revolve around sucking cocks for years. All we can hope for is to get more privileges, and maybe a better job around here.”

“Do people ever get out?”

“You mean, like freed? No. Some of the assets have contracts that give them limited freedom at times. I wouldn’t doubt that some of the top ones have some kind of buy-out reward in their contracts. We won’t. I don’t even have a contract, because I’m not an asset yet. Are you an asset?”

“No. The bar doesn’t own me. I’m on loan for education in what it means to be a slave.”

“You’ll learn fast here. I told you how I became a slave. How did you?”

“I found out that my boyfriend was about to sell me out. I asked my father to accept my volunteering so I could avoid being sold. My being here is my father’s idea of learning what slavery really is and why I should have been more careful. I’m hoping that he’ll let me out of here.”

“You have a better chance than anyone has of getting out, then. I’d keep your story quiet, and if someone else asks, just say your boyfriend sold you out.”

“You say that no one leaves? Except, of course, the ones that leave by hearse.”

“No hearses here. Bodies go out by meat truck. Some leave by other ways. Every once in a while, they sell a black-collar to a customer that wants one. I heard that some of the others have been sold too, to customers that have fallen in lust with them. I don’t know whether that would be a better life or not.”

“I don’t see many older slaves.”

“There have only been slaves for six years. This place doesn’t buy old ones. Black collars that lose their appeal are sold or moved over to housekeeping and food service. There are a few older slaves that I think they got for special jobs. The funny case is Joan. She’s close to being the top slave, and she’s just out of high school. She’s really smart and good with people, so that may be why. I heard that she goes to college in the mornings and some afternoons, then runs the suck operation at night.”

Delia sagged at hearing that bit of information. She had been thinking that at the end of the summer that her father would let her out of here so she could go back to school. If Joan was here and going to college, it offered another possibility for Delia’s life. She figured that her mother would object, so maybe it wouldn’t happen, but…

Louise said, “There’s the dinner bell. Let’s go eat. Don’t overdo it. If you eat too much, you’ll be uncomfortable all evening while you suck.”

“I’m going to be sucking? Tonight? I just got here!”

“That’s what they told me. They’ll offer you as a cut-rate service. That may get you a lot of business. Whatever you do, keep your teeth off the cocks.” Louise rose from her cot, took Delia’s leash, and led her to the cafeteria. Louise had Delia sit at a table, unlocked Delia’s cuffs without letting anyone else see it, then used the cuffs to attach the end of the leash to Delia’s chair. Louise then got them both some food.

Delia asked, “Why are you always attaching my leash to things?”

“That’s what they told me to do. You won’t be doing much wandering. I think they’re treating you like a black-collar as much as they can. Just behave and it will get better.”

Chapter 66: Joan’s Instructions

Joan walked into the break room and found Louise talking with Charlene, a green-collar that ran the assignments for suckers in the afternoon and early evening. “Hello, ladies. I have some instructions for both of you.” The two lower-status slaves listened intently to Joan. “Louise, tonight is your first white-collar full shift. I’ll leave you on evenings for now. You are eligible for both cuffed and non-cuffed sucks. I’m giving you an additional responsibility: Delia. Take charge of her when you aren’t on suck duty. Except for the white collar, she has the same status as a black collar that is just starting. For now, let’s keep her cuffed most of the time. Also, keep her on leash and fasten it to tie down points when she isn’t moving about. I’ll authorize you to have a handcuff key; don’t let anyone else know about it. Keep it tucked inside your collar. Having that key means that when you are cuffed, it will always be behind your back. This afternoon, keep trading off with Delia on the trainer until 3:30, then go to the dorms and get a room assignment. You and Delia will be roommates. Her bunk will have a collar chain with an attached lock and the key will be on a retracting chain over by the door, so you can release her but she can’t get loose. She gets locked at lights-out. You don’t get locked. The dorm coordinator will set it all up and issue you the standard things for your room. She has your stuff from the black-collar dorm.”

Louise looked a little apprehensive. She did have a few things tucked away in the black-collar dorm, which the black-collars weren’t supposed to have. Joan saw the look and laughed. “Don’t worry, we know all about the stashes of stuff in there. We say that they shouldn’t have anything, but we know they will, and we only enforce it when there is too much stuff or on individuals causing problems. As soon as you were promoted, a dorm worker found your stuff and removed it, so your ex-companions wouldn’t get hold of it. Yours was a reasonably common set of things, a few pictures and about two dollars. The dorm coordinator will give it to you.”

Louise relaxed and felt happier. She really wanted the pictures. The money was mostly useless, but sometimes was used when bartering for candy and other contraband in the dorm. “Can I have stuff openly now?”

“As long as it isn’t excessive. There’s no problem with pictures and books, or small amounts of money. Larger amounts should be put into your account.”

“Account?”

“Yes, account. I should add that information to the White Collar Rules book. Assets have accounts that they can put money in. We consider it to be motivation. If there are disciplinary actions, access to the account can be restricted. There is also a supervision level we assign. You are starting at a lower level of supervision than most because your record here is clean and you have a good attitude. Delia’s supervision level is at the maximum.”

“You said ‘asset’. Am I an asset slave?”

“No. I told you that the promotion was probationary. Most non-black-collars eventually get converted to asset status, but I can’t predict if or when that will happen for you. You will have an account, though.”

Joan turned to Charlene and said, “Add Louise to the evening shift and flag it as her normal shift. Do the same for Delia. Put an in-training tag on Delia’s collar. Get Louise the handcuff key and mark it on her records. Leave instructions for the closing coordinator to escort Louise and Delia to the Fuck Room. Delia is guest of honor tonight.”

Joan turned back to Louise. “When you are in the Fuck Room, bind Delia the same way you were bound, then play with her to get her ready. When Mr. Johnson arrives, ask him if he wants you to stay. If he doesn’t want you to stay, wait outside the room for him to leave, then take charge of Delia again. There’s a pad and blanket in a cabinet there so that you can rest while you wait. Mr. Johnson will wake you. After you have her re-cuffed, take her back to the dorm, let her use the restroom uncuffed, and then chain her collar to the bed. If she gives you any trouble, call for help. You can play with her at your discretion.”

Joan stood and said, “I have the rest of the day off, and I have to go. Charlene, help Louise get started.” Joan left the room.

Louise asked, “Day off?”

Charlene replied, “Yes. The supervisors all get regular days off. So do lower ranking slaves, like me, but not as many. You may get one as a reward now and then. You may actually get privileges pretty quickly. Joan’s putting you in charge of another slave, which isn’t something they do often for new white-collars.”

“I didn’t know white collars had enough rank to do that.”

“It isn’t rank. You are in charge of Delia because Joan says you are in charge of Delia. Let’s get back to the trainer and check on Delia. She should be close to getting the dildo crammed down her throat, and we like to be around for that in case she gags.”