Castleman Trust Chapter 53
A Cloudy Day at Ellisia
Ellis Wilson, Sr.”s birthday fell on December 5th. In 2001 that was on a Wednesday, which had been set aside as a clothing optional day. Ellisia was open from 10 AM to 8 PM that cold, windy autumn day—and there were no reported nude guests in the park. The Defensive Enslavement Volunteer work force wore their winter clothes on their walk to work. If that wasn”t enough to make even Shawna shiver, the day was overcast and threatened rain.
“I don”t get it,” Darcy said. “You are letting me wear clothes?”
“No,” I corrected. “I am MAKING you wear clothes. You don”t get a choice in the matter. I have determined that it is too cold outside for you to be exposed to the weather. As soon as we return to our trailer, you get naked and I will lock you in the cage.”
“You always were weird,” Darcy said as I took her left hand and began to examine it closely. “What are you doing? That makes me feel deformed.”
“I told you the first time—this makes you unique. I wish I could magically replace your missing finger. I”m accepting it because it is you and we can”t do anything about it. Tell me again how you lost your ring finger. Do it in French so that Annette and Marie understand. I want the Woulfe”s to practice French too—not everyone speaks English.”
Darcy was engaged to be married in high school in 1996. Her fiancé, Mark Aster, had given Darcy an expensive engagement ring. Darcy never took it off. One day Darcy was in the football stadium at Mid-Eastland High School cheering for her fiancé. She was on her way to the restroom when she was shoved. Darcy fell off the bleachers—but in a freak accident she caught her ring on the safety rail and her finger ripped off. Darcy fell fifteen feet and broke her right arm and leg. Mark disowned her because Darcy was no longer perfect. All this happened before I met Darcy at UOKE. Darcy was still bitter about her treatment by her ex-fiancé and still felt that being maimed made her worthless. Now she was a slave, too.
Clothing for a slave isn”t the same as what free women wear. Nudity is almost always acceptable even though naked slaves are still novel. Next is fetish gear—lingerie or leather or school-girl uniforms. Don”t forget the slave shift! Seldom does the slave wear underwear AND regular clothing—unless you count the SINO. Basically, a Slave in Name only is a free woman who has become someone else”s property—someone who treats her as if she were still a free woman. SINO”s are often accused of being pets—pampered playthings. SINO”s generally wear “normal” women”s clothing. Work slaves frequently required clothing for protection—and that was usually just a pair of cheap shoes. Often, though, a rectangle of cloth with a hole in the center for a head was draped over the slave. Sometimes this was secured by a belt or bit of rope and sometimes the slave shift fluttered in the breeze, randomly revealing and concealing the slave”s charms. A few work slaves wore lab coats or aprons only. Some wore “business attire.” It depended on the owner and the function the slave filled.
Castleman Trust slaves were normally nude because I preferred them that way. Even they needed clothes from time to time. This was usually a pair of shoes—and a short cape when the weather was foul. I insisted that they wear a flight suit when they flew in my twin-engine airplane for safety reasons. At Ellisia the slaves complied with a dress code in the park”s public areas—except on the clothing-optional Wednesdays. Today it was just too cold. Too windy, too. It might rain. Today I had everyone wear leg warmers with their shoes and capes. The capes were reversible, dark blue on one side and red on the other, with the Castleman Trust logo on the back in gold. I left it up to the women if they wore more underneath their capes—except for Darcy.
“Everyone is getting Ellisia clothing for winter,” I said. “Slave guests are not permitted in the dressing rooms—you will be changing right out in the open in front of mirrors.”
I forgot who came up with this—having slaves change in the open area on the edge of the store. Free women might be using the open dressing area—but to use the dressing room, an Ellisia passport had to be shown. There were basically season passports, adult (free citizen) passports, children”s passports and slave passports. The slave paid the child”s price to enter Ellisia. Slave tickets were about 3% of Ellisia gate receipts, children were another 20% (except on Wednesdays, when they fell to just 1%–few people brought children to Clothing Optional Wednesdays), annual season passes accounted for 4% and the rest were adult tickets. In the slow season, an “adult” was 12 years old. Slave tickets were bright pink. Children”s tickets were sky blue. Adult tickets were silver. The annual pass was a gold colored card. All tickets were the size of a credit card—but printed on thick paper. Children had to be accompanied in the dressing room area by an adult. It was rare for a slave to buy the overpriced clothing in Ellisia.
“If you feel cold, tell me. This is supposed to be fun. I can”t have fun when I”m too cold. Now stay with your groups at all times. Do not separate from each other.” I had them in groups of four. “That includes bathroom breaks. When one of you uses the bathroom, all of you do.”
My group consisted of me, Darcy, Button and Lana. Heather and Jane were with Penny and Susan—they were a different group, but we”d stay together. This grouping had a purpose. I really wanted to tour with my sister. Ellisia is my favorite theme park. Where penny went, Susan went. The same with Jane and Heather—I kept them together as much as possible. It wasn”t always possible. Button and Lana were paired up because of Darcy—I didn”t trust Darcy to behave. Button and Lana were with me just in case Darcy became a problem.
We went through the main gate with the rest of the opening-hour crowd because Ellisia had opening and closing ceremonies. There was the flag thing, a band, and various Wilson Productions characters in costumes. I was a little surprised to see that Olive Pit”s two historic characters, Maid Marion and Molly the Pirate, were represented. Olive, of course, was in Cougar County teaching school. She would teach a seminar in Eastlake at the EMTC that weekend.
The first stop after all the festivities was at the Locker Room, a sports clothing shop. There we bought some warm-up suits and gloves—and hats. It was that cold. Next, I took my contingent into the bakery shop in the World War movies area. My happy slaves sat chatting, sipping cocoa and eating rolls. Darcy watched as the bake shop cast served Annette and Marie and their party of four.
“When their English is better, I might have them work down here,” I commented. “They know the real Europe.”
“Are all these workers really slaves?”
“Let”s ask. Did you notice how much service we”ve been getting? How there is no discrimination against slaves here?” I waved at one of the staff and had three girls at our table: Jean, Carrie and Selma. “This is Darcy.”
“Hi, Darcy!” the three chorused.
“She is new,” I said, “and hearing your stories will help her adjust. Don”t get yourself in trouble with the boss.”
“They won”t get in any trouble, Master Peter,” the master baker—a man—said. “We know you. Besides, you are good for morale. When you are in town all of my girls are happier.”
Note: he said “my girls” and not “goddamned cunts,” “bitches,” “sluts,” “slaves” or something else derogatory. The name tag said Jacques, but that may have been for atmosphere. It was a Swiss bake shop. Marie was standing nervously behind Jacques. I used my French to ask her what was wrong. When she answered, Jacques laughed and gave her a hug.
“An import?” Jacques asked me? I nodded. Annette got near her partner and the two briefly told Jacques what happened to them. “Well! I”m glad that most of the guest don”t speak French! That tale would dampen their Ellisia Experience!”
“Darcy would like to know your stories,” I said to the three bakery shop slaves. “Keep it brief because there are other customers.”
A girl of perhaps ten shyly approached me with an autograph book.
“Are you Peter Castleman?”
“I”m often called that,” I explained briefly about the Castleman Trust show and its replacement, the Pearl Hour. “How do you want me to sign your autograph book? I”m called “Peter Castleman” so often that I might have to adopt that as my stage name.”
“Master Peter, can I be your slave when I grow up?” This provoked a response—a mousy looking woman rushed up to her “baby” and took the child”s hand.
“It”s okay,” I said. “Anything can happen. What is your name?”
“Penny.” I was shocked. My Penny and her partner Susan giggled.
“I”ve got a surprise for you.” I introduced my sister and her partner. “Would you like all of our autographs?”
The mother was quite nervous. Her name was Winifred and she was obviously very submissive. My sheepdog reflexes kicked in.
“Join us, please,” I said as I scribbled my signature and a message to Winifred”s Penny. “I know things about this park. I can make your stay pleasant.”
Meanwhile, Darcy was getting an ear full. The entire bake shop slave cast had wound up enslaved. Selma broke up with her boyfriend—who promptly PPC”d her and sold a part interest to DEV. He was actually a decent sort, but he didn”t want Selma to get away from him. They lived nearby—Selma didn”t live with the other slaves except for two nights a week due to slave schooling. Carrie had been converted for speeding in a small Texas town nearby and DEV out-bid the local AMS dealer because Carrie had been 17 at the time. She was now 18 and VERY happy to work at Ellisia. Jean was one of those Hill”s Fine Meats rescue jobs from Eastlake. Jean had failed her junior-year finals and had walked into Hill”s in June to end her life as someone”s dinner. Jean was only 17 then, so Jim called me. A bit of therapy, reconciliation with her very worried parents, an October birthday and Jean was working in Ellisia. She travelled home once since arriving to visit her family and her family would be spending Christmas in Ellisia. Darcy kept glancing my way.
“You set this up,” Darcy accused.
“Thank you, Darcy,” I replied. I told Winifred that Darcy”s remark was a compliment because think of all the coordination I had to do. “Of course, you can look up their backgrounds yourself. Either I”ve doctored the official records or I”ve stage-managed this to a T. Is it okay for Penny to go on the next ride with my Penny? We”re taking the Allied Flyer Rescue Adventure next. Besides, I think you should talk to me.”
That ride allowed the guest to experience getting shot down over Germany in 1943 and being rescued by the Underground. I was being a bad sheepdog, again—reeling in a lost sheep. Winifred reluctantly told me that she was divorcing her husband because she was afraid of being enslaved. He was behind in his child support payments—and I managed to get Winifred to admit that she really couldn”t afford her vacation here in Ellisia.
“It”s just one day,” Winifred said.
“What are your options? I suspect that you are about to lose your daughter. I think I can help—but you would have to work for me as a free woman. Penny is too young. Let her be a child for a while longer. I think we can fix your financial problems. Where do you live?”
“Anywhere you want me,” Winifred eyed me the way a mouse eyes a cat. “You aren”t going to enslave me?”
“Not right now. It isn”t good for your Penny to lose her mother. I have a number of free women living under my roof. Some will be slaves, but not right now. Some will remain free. I don”t know which. You would actually work for a slave. Does it bother you to have to obey a slave?”
“Will you use me for sex?”
“You are a free woman. Do you want to be used? I have more than enough bed partners. If you want to become one of my lovers, there”s a line. I”m not just bragging, Winifred. Heather handles my social life.”
“Master, I had to let Penny do that,” Heather grinned sheepishly. “She wanted to, and your life is getting complicated. We coordinate your business and personal lives and keep Angelica n the loop so that you are protected at all times. Penny and Susan do a good job, don”t they?”
I didn”t know that my sister was scheduling my love life. I was afraid at times that I would fail to please my bed partners.
“You are serious, aren”t you?” Winifred asked.
“He always is,” Jane replied for me. “Summer—that”s Doctor Kim Prince—says that Master Peter is a sheep dog.”
Jane explained that some people are wolves, most are sheep and there are sheep dogs like me. We protect the sheep from wolves. All the while I was greeting cast members, free and slave alike. Nearly all the free cast members were men and nearly all of the women were slaves. There were a few child actors—free, of course—who played some Ellis Wilson Productions characters. The few free women were either not eligible for conversion or had been grandfathered. Ellis Wilson Jr. was happy to leave it that way. New hire women would normally become slaves. There were a few exceptions.
“I”m afraid to ask this, but could I stay with you while I make up my mind?” Winifred asked. Yes, I have a soft head! I agreed. I told her that she would undergo evaluation and that she would get more information that way. “I won”t have to be sex tested, will I?”
“I”m sorry, I wasn”t thinking. I do have slaves sex tested. Free women working for me may volunteer for sex grading and I encourage them to take sex training, but slaves are not given the option of refusing. Darcy, tell Winifred your scores and what they mean.”
Darcy blushed, but complied. Darcy admitted to being a criminal, that she had volunteered to be my slave in order to avoid a trial and a very painful execution.
My cell phone rang. It was my boss. I was to immediately go to a secure area for a mission briefing. Darcy, of course, was going to accompany me. I had secrets from Darcy, but the way my alert was worded told me that Darcy was to be permitted to see everything. I left the other groups behind with Heather in charge. It was painful to leave Ellisia, but duty called. I was also in compliance with my own orders—I took Lana and Button with me.
The secure facility was just a quarter mile hike away. Angelica swept the place for listening devices and I had a minimum staff of five people: four Military Female Slave Detachment 46 Army slaves and Darcy. Colonel Murphy wasted no time when we established secure communications.
