Dark Erotic Fiction

TOY-TOY TALKS

(A Culbert”s Research Group Slave Think Tank Annex interview between Slave Toy-toy and Research Slave Haley. Toy-toy”s bio appears after the interview.)

Date & Time: Saturday, April 12, 2008, 3:30 PM Central Daylight Savings Time

Interview Location: Mobile office, Wheaton Heights neighborhood

Haley sat the young woman in front of the video camera for the interview. Haley was naked except for a locked stainless steel collar around her neck. The young woman in front of her was a slave, but Toy-toy wore an elaborate fetish costume: white high heels locked to her ankles and connected by a length of chain to her handcuffed wrists, white stockings held up by a white corset, white thong panties, a long veil, a sheer cape and a stiff white leather posture collar. Aside from the handcuffs, leg irons, chain and collar, Toy-toy wore no jewelry. Toy-toy”s heavy make-up was slightly smudged and Haley”s nose wrinkled when Toy-toy”s excessive perfume wafted over the interviewer. Haley began the interview with the standard 20 conversion experience questions:

1. q. Who converted you?

1. I don”t know. Momma could have requested it. It could not have been part of my student contract. I was as straight “A” Honor Society student and I gave them no reason to enslave me. NONE! I dressed conservatively. I even ran an informant network for Dean

2. q. Why did they convert you?

1. I wasn”t told. (Intent to Enslave forms do not ask “why” — see notes at end)

3. q. What white slaver was used?

1. Spellbooks Slaves and Games—agents Otto Hayden and Tiffany Mullen. Mistress Tiffany was my room mate.

4. q. When were you converted?

1. March 24, 2008, a few minutes after celebrating my 20th birthday with my mother and brother. They left me at my dorm so that I could study for my test tomorrow.

5. q. Where were you converted?

1. My dorm room at Eastlake University.

6. q. How did they convert you?

1. Mistress Tiffany and Master Otto came into my room. Well, our room—Mistress Tiffany was my room mate. I had seen Master Otto and Mistress Tiffany pick up slaves several times. When I panicked, Mistress Tiffany used a stun gun on me.

7. q. How many owners have you had?

1. One.

8. q. Who owns you now?

1. Master Ben Mullen. He is Mistress Tiffany”s father. The wife, Bethany, was enslaved by Master Ben and Mistress Tiffany ran the auction that sold her mother.

9. q. How did your current owner acquire you?

1. Master Ben has a lease-to-own contract with Spellbook Slaves and Games. If I give him satisfactory service, I will become his property in a year.

10. q. What slave training have you been given?

1. Master Ben is handling my training himself. Ingrid, Master Mike”s housekeeper, gave me some training while I was at Spellbook Slaves and Games.

11. q. What was your education level prior to conversion?

1. I was a sophomore at Eastlake University. I was an honors student with a major in corporate law and a minor in criminal justice.

12. q. What is your education level now?

1. I no longer attend school

13. q. What is the best thing about being a slave?

1. Is that some kind of joke? What is good about being a slave?

14. q. If you could do anything that you wanted to do as a slave (except gain manumission), what would you do with your life?

1. No response recorded

15. q. How do you feel about bearing children for your owner?

1. No response recorded

16. q. What issues do you have with raising your owner”s children?

1. No response recorded

17. q. Why is your sex life richer and more fulfilling as a slave?

1. I had no sex life before. Now I get fucked whenever Master Ben wants sex. Master Ben passes me around. I have been used by both men and women—other slaves, too.

18. q. What measures did you do in order to remain a free woman?

1. They didn”t work. Oh, okay—I insinuated myself with the school authorities. I spied for the administration. I was told that as long as I achieved a quota, the school would not enslave me. I reported to Dean Brigette Feldon, Dean of Women”s Studies. I dressed conservatively. I did not act like a slut or date—I kept my circle of friends limited to my spy network. During my two years at Eastlake University, 87 of the girls I informed on were enslaved. I kept a perfect grade point average. I went to church every Sunday. I was in the Honors Society and I was on the track team—academics and athletics kept the school off my back. I never said a bad word to anybody. I didn”t deserve being enslaved. I did everything else that would keep me out of slavery. I was my mother”s best friend. The only thing I can think of is that when she tried to get me to go out on a date with that creepy Harris Vandyne, Junior. Junior”s father is the Wheaton Heights Community Patrol Captain.

19. q. Why you resist being enslaved?

1. I didn”t believe it was happening to me! I did everything I could. Nobody had a reason to enslave me! Nobody! I panicked. I bet you panicked when you were enslaved. I couldn”t help myself—I argued that there had been some sort of mistake. Mistress Tiffany brandished the stun gun. I totally lost my mind when I saw the sparks.

20. q. What one thing would you change about the conversion experience (except that “it never happened”)?

1. No response recorded.

“Do you have anything to add?” Haley asked.

“Yes,” Toy-toy said. “How did you get enslaved?”

“I realized that I wanted to be a slave and I volunteered. I wanted to be Daddy”s slave, but he said that I should be my sister”s slave. Niki was my owner until she married Master Robert and was converted at the wedding—then I was Master Robert”s property.”

Toy-toy”s expression was classic.

“Have you been fucked by Master Harris, Junior yet?”

“Yes,” Toy-toy replied. “I was also fucked by every member of the Wheaton Heights Community Patrol. I”m supposed to spend the night at Momma”s tonight.”

“That”s nice,” Haley said. “I”m lucky that I live at home with my sister. My father and uncle visit me all of the time. Master Robert offered me to my father for sex, but Poppa said that he”s not into father-daughter sex. Too bad. I just finished a two-week sex school and I”m eager to show Poppa and Uncle Perry what I learned. But enough about me. About your enslavement; did your mother ever try matchmaking? Hooking you up with a husband?”

“I wasn”t going to get married! That”s one way to get enslaved—get married and the husband sells me or eats me! Not this girl! I don”t have sex with anybody either. I don”t want to be PPC”d and I didn”t want Momma to convert me for being a slut.”

“What about your father?”

“He died when I was 11.”

“Did your mother ever ask you about your boyfriend?”

“I didn”t want one. That is funny, Haley, because Momma asked me about settling down and having babies. She called Junior “that nice young man.” I told her that she should try sleeping with him, that Junior had B.O. and was just like his father.”

“I wonder,” Haley told the dressed slave. “I think your mother was trying to get you married off so that she would have grandchildren.”

“That”s insane!”

“I could be wrong. Is your brother older or younger than you.”

“Younger. He”s barely 16.”

Note: shortly after this Roberta Denise Greene-Remora was converted by a person of personal contact, Mr. Harris Vandyne, Senior. Her minor son, Kelly, was over the age of consent and now lives with Mr. Vandyne.

Toy-toy”s Bio:

Slave Name—Toy-toy

Free name—Constance Remora

Birth date: March 24, 1988

Age at conversion: 20

Conversion type: Parental (mother: Roberta Denise Greene-Remora)

Height: 5″7″

Weight: 124 pounds

Measurements: 34B-26-37

Hair color: brown

Eye color: brown

Sex tests: virgin at conversion, testing not performed

Educational level: sophomore at Eastlake University, Major—corporate law, minor—criminal justice

Robert”s Slave Owner”s Diary: Day 74—REASON IS OVER-RATED

Robert Donner (with Og Beater)

WHO—Debra, Sandy, Niki, Mandy, Jeanie, Jillian, Jolin, Fawn, Donna and Hope

WHAT—Niki and Mandy reveal the secrets behind the Slave Think Tank Annex to Robert (and to Jillian)

WHERE—Slave Think Tank Annex/Culbert”s Research Group

WHEN—Saturday, March 29, 2008

Working with gifted people can be frustrating. Many “ordinary people” are intimidated by the gifted—jealous, even. Just because someone has talent doesn”t make him a star basketball player. Basketball is a team sport, not an individual event. Besides, there is more to basketball than merely shooting hoops. The same things inhibited Jeanie Knapp, a potential star player with the Culbert”s Research Group”s Slave Think Tank Annex. Jeanie scored 160 on the Stanford-Binet intelligence test (average of three scores: 157, 160, and 163). At the end of the third test, Jeanie demonstrated a near-photographic recall of the test. Not bad for a woman who has been whipped recently, who has had her head shaved for almost a month and who has been kept naked since her conversion! Jeanie had collapsed in despair while on the suck trainer—a device that was used to instruct slaves in oral sex techniques. Her problem wasn”t willingness; Jeanie”s problems were lack of self confidence, being placed in a confusion state by a situation that works just fine with ordinary women and being unable to let go and do one thing at a time while ignoring everything else. The latter problem rose because Jeanie was trying to split her attention between the suck trainer”s display, Pain Slave Donna”s instructions and the shock dildo embedded in Jeanie”s cunt. Jeanie was willing—very willing. She was also totally submissive—submissive to the point that Jeanie took the shock dildo without any distractions and requested the incremental shocks up to the maximum level Jillian allowed in training. Jillian cheated and slipped in a few pleasure jolts—which only confused Jeanie at first.

“You are doing fine,” Jillian told her. “I thought you deserved a bit of pleasure. Just relax and let me run you through the pleasure settings.”

Jillian did though some punishment shocks into the pleasure mix. She likes to keep her trainees from going stale. Jeanie didn”t notice-expectation often trumps experience. Jeanie was expecting pleasure and experienced the punishment shocks as intense pleasure. Jillian later confided in me that Jeanie may not be hard-wired to code.

“You”ve got something special there, Master Robert. I see why you went through extra effort with Jeanie.”

“Thank Anita. She recognized talent when she saw Jeanie.”

Anita told me that Jeanie looked like a lost puppy and that Anita acted out of compassion—it was sheer luck that Jeanie was a genius. Speaking of my first slaves, I was running into the “so many women/so little time” problem. I didn”t think that I was paying enough attention to them all. On the other hand, I didn”t want to exhaust myself—I couldn”t pay attention to everyone all of the time. I brought this up to Jillian and asked her advice—yes, Jillian is a slave. Get over it! I was working with a think tank staffed by slaves—very smart women.

“Very simple, Master Robert,” Jillian told me. “You bestow your favors as a reward. There are other men here, too. The women have each other. Finally, you can permit or require them to have sex with outsiders, both men and women. They are slaves. It is the primary lesson I”m driving home in them. Master Robert, you do have good slaves. They all accept being enslaved. Most do not want to be free anymore. A few do—I”ve noted them in your file. The main thing you wanted was superior sexual performance, correct?”

“That”s right, Jillian. I wanted the slaves” oral and anal sex to be so good that the exclusively-gay men could enjoy the women.”

“Master Robert, I”d like you to consider something,” Jillian eyed me warily. “Don”t answer now. Take your time. What I”d like you to consider is being trained in gay sex.”

I managed to keep myself from reacting.

“You have a training outline?” I asked. “A syllabus?”

“Yes. I”ll work it around your schedule. Most of the training will be conducted by my pain slaves. You won”t have to have much contact with men. This training is only for learning skills.”

“One of the CRG projects is revamping sex education,” I had to force myself to focus on Jillian”s eyes. “If I seem angry, I apologize. I”m just upset. Gender identity is very much a foundation for personality in our society. People are crazy when it comes to sex because they are protecting their self-image.”

“They are also protecting the mask,” Jillian smiled. “Master Robert, I wouldn”t force this on you even if I could.”

“If you could, “Mistress Jillian,” it would be because I was a slave and you were either my owner or working for my owner,” I spoke deliberately mechanically in an effort to keep from screaming. Oh, yeah–I was protecting my ego! “Possibly neither of us would have a choice in the matter. I understand that students have to pass sex tests—performance tests—in order to graduate now.”

“That”s not correct, Master Robert. Yes, the Educators, Academics and Teachers Society is pushing for mandatory performance-based sex education at the secondary school level. Right now, a limited pre-enrollment sex hygiene course is required for freshmen in colleges and universities. Women attending vocational, business and technical schools are also required to pass a state-mandated course. It mostly covers the White Slave Act of 2000,” Jillian grinned. “There is a mandatory physical and most schools mandate either marriage, enslavement or birth control for females. The birth control requirements are sometimes linked to a discipline code that makes getting pregnant a convertible offense unless the woman is married. It”s something new and the cases haven”t been tested in court—not yet. These contracts are not state law. They”re something some schools are doing using contract law and their status as minor jurisdictions.”

“My ignorance is showing,” I glanced at the three pain slaves as they entered my office. They waited quietly for an invitation to join in the conversation. “Donna, Fawn, Jolin, what have you got for me?”

“Master, Jeanie has turned around,” Fawn announced. “That tit sucking worked. We”ll have to try it.”

“There may be a problem with some slaves,” I gestured at Jillian. “I was just talking with Jillian about it. I force my slaves to have sex with both men and women.”

“No duh!” Donna clapped her hand to her mouth and immediately went to her knees. “Master Robert, this slave apologizes for her impertinence and begs that master punish her appropriately.”

My mind went “huh?” My mouth said, “You are forgiven.”

“Master,” Jillian gently reminded me, “you need to practice inflicting punishment.”

I sighed. “Very well. Donna, what is a fair compensation for your crime?”

“Twenty lashes with the quirt, Master. Three on each tit. Four across my stomach.” Donna was squirming with excitement. “A couple on my cunt. Then stripe my thighs with the rest from knee to butt.”

I met Jillian”s gaze.

“Yes, I know, my technique is mechanical,” I admitted. “Jillian, do you have time? I”m going to do a “just because” whipping on every slave. I seek your permission to do the same to your pain slaves—they”re yours, not mine.”

“You don”t need permission, Master Robert, but it was nice of you to ask. I need to be back at the studio for a show. Master, I cannot refuse, but I need to appear unblemished for the show.”

“That”s why I prefer electro-torture,” I rubbed my hands together. “Painful, immediate, yet very limited physical damage. I”ll do water-boarding, too—with medical supervision. That tank treatment—you say that you want to put the three sisters back in the tank?”

“They really are good girls, Master,” Jillian almost growled, “but I”m tempted to drown them in the tank. They are smart assed bitches—not quite Donna”s level, but give them time. You know that they will do anything for you, Master. I was afraid at first - most masters merely use slaves. You actually love them. You don”t have any real problems here. You could if you don”t maintain a firm hand. Right now, you have a good mix of punishment and reward. In another week, the sex training program will be finished. Many masters will slack off on the discipline and ruin good slaves. That”s the main reason I recommend refresher training.”

“It seems to me,” I was grinning, “that refresher training is a cash cow. No matter—CRG will be acquiring more slaves in the future. I”d rather have your studio train the new slaves than ship the girls off to a slave factory. We humans bond under shared stress. It is a basic survival mechanism. I”m the one who needs refresher training. As long as I maintain standards, the slaves should be okay. If they aren”t it is because I have failed to be a good master.”

“Master Robert is wise,” Jillian bowed. “Most masters think that they know all of the answers.”

I laughed. “I don”t even know most of the questions. That is the secret of good research—asking the right questions. Slave schools typically break a woman”s spirit. Sometimes the product is little more than a zombie. This is a think tank. Getting a woman to adapt to being enslaved without ruining her inquisitive nature is quite a trick—and we need that if the slave think tank idea is to work. There are few benefits to being a slave. One of them is promiscuity. Slaves are already regarded as sub-human—so having sex for fun is expected. Nobody will think less of a promiscuous slave. I rather like the naked female form. Slaves aren”t subject to the indecent exposure laws.”

“Beg pardon, master, but you haven”t made your slaves go out in public much.”

“That”s because the weather is too cold, Fawn. Oh, I”ll make them go out in bad weather—but for a short time only. I”ve rented a theater and we”re having dinner at a restaurant to celebrate graduation. I told you that you and a date are invited. For you pain slaves, clothing is optional. I am forbidding the CRG slaves any clothing until the end of summer because I like them naked.”

“You make exceptions for health and safety, Master Robert.”

“Yes I do, Jolin. In fact, if I send a slave someplace alone I may have to order her to wear clothes. I”ve gotten dispensation to run the slaves naked at the main CRG office as long as I don”t overdo things. Constantly running hot and cold slaves through the main office is a no-no. Oklahoma is still in the Bible Belt. Many people equate naked with sex.” I stopped, my face and ears hot. “In this case, it”s a valid connection.”

At that moment Mandy showed up. Saved by the belle-even if Mandy was a bit bald at the moment.

“Mandy, we need to talk. I do not intend to inflict any punishment for the subject under discussion. It happened prior to you becoming a slave. You spent a week being treated as a slave while a free woman. I inadvertently took you out in public naked. I exposed you to judicial enslavement—or worse. I should have been more careful—but what were you trying to accomplish? When I found out I had been putting you in danger, it scared me.”

Slave Mandy, the former Amanda Shields, stared at me for a long moment. I just watched her. Mandy began slowly at first, feeling her way along. I could tell—she didn”t trust me. Why should she? Bit by bit I drew her out. Oh, I guess I could have just hooked her up to a suspension harness, wired her for electrical shocks and subjected her to drowning—but she”d tell me anything to stop the pain. “Anything” might not include truth.

“I just had to!” Mandy finally exclaimed. “You can”t understand!”

Another data point for the theory that men and women are co-dependant species rather than the same species! I held Mandy while she sobbed her heart out.

“I guess I”m going to have to whip you, Mandy,” I said softly. She gave me the Jeanie “lost puppy” expression. “You hurt so much inside that I need to apply pain to the outside.”

“Yes,” Mandy smiled faintly. “You are wise, Master. I do hurt inside.”

“I need to find out what made you risk yourself. I wasn”t careful enough with you, Mandy. I”m worried that I could have lost you. What happened?”

“I don”t know.” Fair enough. Psychologists finally admit that most of the human experience takes place below the level of consciousness. I”ve heard figures as high as 95%–but the consensus seems to be 80%. I was musing on this and almost missed Mandy”s next words. “It was something I had to do. I couldn”t just give myself to you. You had to take me. You have to MAKE me. Oh, this is so difficult!”

For the record, Mandy”s IQ averaged 147 on three Stanford-Binet tests. Men, don”t snicker at Mandy”s “urges.” We men have our own. Mandy was another genius and the slave think tank was fortunate to have her.

I was glad to have her.

“So, I could say that I had to prove my worth by conquering you?”

“I wish you wouldn”t put it that way, Master,” Mandy stared at the table top just in front of her. I slipped over behind her and began kneading her shoulders. “I like to pretend that I have free will. Master, I”m happy as a slave. I knew that I had to become your slave, but I couldn”t just volunteer. You had to make me your slave.”

No, I don”t understand. Perhaps people will in the future. One of our functions at the CRG slave think tank annex is gathering data on the social aspects of the White Slave Act. I told Mandy to stand, got in her chair, and then had her drape herself across my lap. I spanked her slowly, gradually pinking her butt. Mandy sniffed a little.

“My turn,” Jillian moved Mandy aside. “I have just 15 minutes, Master Robert—I have a show to host.”

“Shouldn”t we be getting this on video?”

“We are, Master,” Jillian smirked. “We have this place wired. I itch, Master. Smack my ass.”

It didn”t seem any different to me, Jillian”s spanking. Jillian had rubber legs when she stood up. Her face was shiny, her eye-lids were half-closed, her lips parted as Jillian stumbled to the bathroom for a quick shower. I caught her when her knees buckled.

“What”s wrong?” I asked.

Jillian regarded me for a long moment.

“You really don”t know, do you?” I shook my head. “Master Robert, I need to bathe. Please help me, Master. I will try to explain.”

Jillian secretly enjoyed severe bondage and discipline. No, discipline is the wrong word—Jillian liked being tortured. All I was doing was slapping and rubbing Jillian”s butt, with occasional fingering of her nether creases. Jillian”s cunt leaked. In the shower I bathed her—and she nipped me with her teeth! Donna sent Fawn to drive Jillian to her studio. I was left to ponder the day”s events.

Jillian did tell me that I had gotten the whipping thing right. There were two reasons to whip—corrective punishment and pleasure. Often, the pleasure was all for the master/mistress. If the slave had any pleasure, she had better hide it or else! If I got the whipping thing right, it was an accident.

Niki and I were alone for a chat. Niki had agreed to let me marry her and then convert her using husband enslavement. That allowed all of her property to transfer to me without losing most of it to taxes. Years ago I had decided that my wife would have to be a slave.

“Yes, that makes sense,” Niki said after I told her about my conversation with Mandy. “It doesn”t make any sense, I know, but it feels right. The other girls and I decided that you were going to fore us into slavery.”

Niki laughed at my expression.

“Sorry, Master.” Niki wiped tears from her eyes. “You just—”she hiccupped and wiped more tears from her eyes. “Okay. It is a girl thing. We want our man to take care of us. You had to take us before you could take care of us. I never had any doubt that you would be a kind master, that you would do what I needed.”

“Why is that?”

“You always treated me with respect. At first, I thought you were just a wimp. That was back when I thought that strong and brutal were the same thing. I watched how you treated Sandy, Debra and Anita. I checked up on you when I borrowed Anita and loaned you my little sister. You still treat me with respect even when you whip and fuck me. I”d bet my life that you”d snuff me with dignity and respect.”

Niki laughed at me again when my brows knitted in confusion. I am NOT a reluctant slave owner. I had carefully considered the slavery option while Congress debated the White Slave Act. My choice was to build a harem of slave wives—it was legal to do so. The reason for slowly building my new family—the best money could buy—was to avoid losing what I had. At the moment I had more women than I could handle. Now my slave was laughing at me.

“Are you going to let her get away with that?” Donna came in leading four of my other slaves: Debra, Sandy, Mandy and Jeanie.

“Yes,” I flashed a grin. “She”s teaching me something. I wanted to know what possessed nine very intelligent women to enter slavery.”

“Master,” Mandy fell to her knees, “the goal of the slaver cabal is 36% of all females enslaved at the end of this decade. That”s about half of the adult female population and about a quarter of the entire population. It”s estimated that in 2010 the females will be 62% of the population and males will be 38%. Don”t forget that with one in five males exclusively gay, so nearly 8% of the total population will be exclusively gay. Daddy is a member of the Committee for Universal Enslavement.”

“He is? Brian told me that he didn”t want you enslaved.”

“He didn”t. I just gravitated to you. I was the moth and you were the flame. I don”t want to change, Master. I”m where I belong.”

“There is something else, Master,” Niki put in her two cents worth. “My father and uncle were going to staff this place with slaves. I was originally going to be in charge as a free woman. Master, the Committee for Universal Enslavement has a goal of 70% female enslavement by the year 2025. It could reach 90% if Congress mandates a uniform age of consent—a lower age of consent. Only a few women would remain free. This institution is one of several think tanks that will produce the raw data for Congressional decisions.”

“Master,” Donna said, “I have a favor to ask.”

“Donna, I see the difference you and your crew has made,” I looked around at the other five slaves. “You want a favor? What is the favor? And don”t you have a date tonight?”

“I do, Master. May I borrow your slaves? I need these five and we”ll be back before midnight.”

It didn”t take long to make a decision.

“Who is the designated driver?”

“Jolin.”

“Have fun. Be back by midnight.”

The house seemed empty for a moment. Only a moment. Hope padded into the office on bare feet. She knelt naked by my side as I worked.

“Go ahead,” I said. “Lean your head against my leg. I”m almost done here.”

Mandy said that 90% of the women could be enslaved in17 years? That would be nearly 60% of the population! It is hard to focus on future worries with a warm, willing female body beside me. I logged off my computer after filing the daily reports and bade Hope to follow me. A quick shower, and we cuddled in bed together. I guess I was tired. I fell asleep almost immediately. There was no rush—we could make love in the morning.

Robert”s Slave Owner”s Diary: Day 71—JEANIE”S STORY

Robert Donner (with Og Beater)

WHO—Jeanie, Donna, Jolin, Debra, Jillian

WHAT—Jeanie explains why Max Knapp sold her off

WHERE—Slave Think Tank Annex/Culbert”s Research Group

WHEN—Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Jeanie was curled up in a tight fetal position, sobbing her heart out on the floor. I glanced at Donna, flashed the signal for “do I play good cop now?” Donna nodded. I got on the floor and held my slave. She latched on to me as soon as she recognized me. I waited until she stopped apologizing.

“Jeanie, pull it together. Wash your face. You and I are going for a walk.”

It was cold and windy outside, too cold for a naked slave. The Slave Think Tank Annex was set in an old hotel or girl”s school or mansion of some type, so we walked the halls. At first, we just walked. Jeanie had clearly been overwhelmed.

“What was that all about?” I asked when Jeanie”s hiccups quelled. Jeanie was silent for a while. “You tested out with an IQ of 160, Jeanie. You had a 3.90 GPA from Dutch Hall, which means that you are very smart. What made your father sell you off?”

“I don”t know.” Her face screwed up again. “I”m not even a good cock sucker!”

“Tell me anyway.” I kissed her forehead. “Go through what you remember from that entire week.”

Jeanie may seem mentally slow to most. It is because she over-thinks things. Ask her “how are you” and Jeanie will think it over before delivering a detailed status report. She took nearly half an hour relating every thing about that week. Anita had warned me that Jeanie had that lost puppy look—more like a whipped puppy. She had given up—that”s all. I listened carefully.

“So what happened was you didn”t put out even when you were all but raped by a date your father forced on you,” I said. “When caught, your date—he was no boy friend—defended himself by saying that he and the entire basket ball team had sex with you. The next morning you were at Spellbook Slaves being sold.”

“Yes, Master. I don”t expect you to believe me.” Jeanie hung her head. “There is now no evidence that I was still a virgin. Some of what Papa said was true. Yes, I am no good at housework. I”m just messy. I daydream a lot. Sometimes I forget things.”

“I believe you.” Jeanie gaped at me. “I am convinced that you are telling me the truth. I am very lucky that Anita picked you up and I am glad that you are my slave. You”re smart, you”re pretty—”

“Me? Pretty?”

“Yes, you. Your major blemish is that you have no self confidence. You don”t believe in yourself. We can fix that—IF you don”t give up on me.” I held her close against me. “Your father has the same problem. He knew you. I think you never lied to him.”

“I didn”t. He could always find out the truth.”

“Yet he took the word of a stranger over that of his daughter, didn”t bother checking the evidence, and sold you at a giveaway price. In a few months I”ll follow up on Max Knapp for statistical purposes. His form said that he sold you for being a slut and neglecting your school work and never doing housework. You”ve done everything I”ve asked until now.”

“I just don”t get cock sucking, Master.”

“What don”t you get?” She explained for several minutes until a dim candle lit up in my head. I”m no genius. Jeanie was. She had overwhelmed herself with the task. Jeanie TRIED too hard and put herself in a “confusion state” before despair set in. “I see what you were doing wrong. Let”s go back to Donna and apologize for giving up. I”ll try explaining.”

Donna and Jolin were finished with the session. They were chatting with Debra.

“Master, I know what is wrong with Jeanie,” Debra was almost dancing on her toes. She had her own “aha” moment. “Jeanie isn”t taking it one step at a time.”

“We know that,” Donna said. “Jeanie was trying too hard. That caused her to not pay attention.”

“There is another factor,” Jolin said, “Jeanie is so submissive that she doesn”t have an ego. All she knew was that Donna beat her for being no good.”

“I have a suggestion,” Jillian entered the room as I spoke. “Switch to breasts for a while, then return to cock sucking. Tits and women are more like dicks to men—they still define a woman.”

“What are you talking abut, Master Robert? I came here to deal with a problem. Jeanie has virtually no sex skills. She was given the minimum scores across the F&S board. Her pain ratings were the only thing that came out normal.”

I explained about chicks and tits.

“So tits are more like dicks for a woman”s image. Men get proud of their size and how firm and what they can do with their cocks. Women want a big pair of breasts that are firm and can give pleasure. Those feminist who tried equating clits with cocks didn”t factor in the psychological factor. They were blinded by structure and didn”t pay attention to behavior.”

“Behavior,” Jillian repeated.

“We humans are complex,” I steered Jeanie towards Debra. “We love complex. We complicate our lives for the fun of it. Right now, Debra and Jeanie are going to suck each other”s nips while we watch. Donna, you”re off duty right now-correct?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Once Jeanie gets the hang of sucking nipples, she can work on the suck trainer.”

“What”s wrong with using a natural suck trainer? You”ve got a yummy cock.” Donna had a point about natural—but I could neither confirm nor deny that I was yummy. Auto fellatio would further erode the hold women have over men. Would most men give up “relationships” with drama queens if they could suck themselves off? “”Jolin and I were going to stay the night. This looks interesting. We were leaving breast play for later. I didn”t think of breast play as a route to cock sucking.”

“Another thing,” Jillian added, “Jeanie is going to start over and take one thing at a time. It will hurt more and use more time. Jeanie, you are going to work on the suck trainer without any distractions—no harness, no dildo. We will put the dildo in you later and introduce you to all of its functions. Your problem is that you try. DON”T TRY! Do. Doing doesn”t require thinking. Just let go and do what you are told to do.”

“When I entered Marine boot camp, only thought that I could walk,” I said, reliving those awful first days. “I didn”t even think about it. When my DI yelled at me and I thought through each drill movement, I couldn”t tell left from right any more. I tripped over my own feet, crashed into the recruits around me and in general botched up the simple task of marching. Donna and Jolin are your DIs here. Sex skills are very important for a slave. You are going to learn to give pleasure, receive pleasure and even take pleasure from giving pleasure to others.”

“I want to, Master Robert,” Jeanie teared up, “but I”m no good!”

“Let me try hypnosis,” Jillian said. She and I had discussed each slave prior to the start of their training. For training purposes, Donna”s pain slaves established their superior status through pain. The CRG slaves had no rights—Jillian”s pain slaves had the right and duty to inflict pain to establish the status inequality between pain slave and trainee. “I like the titty idea, Master Robert. But 80% of human activity takes place below the level of consciousness.”

Donna and Jolin were off the clock. Debra hung around because I asked her to. Jillian was able to put Jeanie in a light trance. After about an hour, Jillian called it a night.

“Much better, Jeanie,” Jillian said. “Master Robert, I”m spending the night here. I want Jeanie to sleep with you tonight. I”ll be there, too.”

It was a crowded bed that evening. In addition to sandwiching Jeanie between myself and Jillian, I was sandwiched between Jeanie and Debra. Humans don”t really sleep well solo. Jeanie will require close contact to lead her through a very vulnerable stage.

I will listen very closely to the trainers” instructions. Yes, they”re slaves—but they are the experts. I wasn”t aware that 80% of sex was below the level of awareness! Even a master has things to learn.

Robert”s Slave Owner”s Diary: Day 69—CHOP!!!

Robert Donner (with Otto Hayden and Og Beater)

WHO—The Claiborne Sisters, Jillian”s Slave Training Studio, the STTA staff and slaves

WHAT— The guillotine arrived right after F&S had finished testing, the Claiborne sisters submit

WHERE—STTA/CRG

WHEN—Monday, March 24, 2008

Fuck and Suck Testers are recognized standards in the sex trade. They are also excellent sex trainers—but I wanted independent evaluation of sex skills when the two-week sex training program ended.

The three Claiborne sisters comported themselves well. At night, they were locked in the slave cages with a shock collar and ordered to be quiet. Monitors recorded that all three cried themselves to sleep on Saturday and Sunday night.

I got the story of why their father decided to enslave them through multiple sources. In a year or two I think I”ll have them look over this entry and tell me their own thoughts. During survival school, the Marines introduced me to being tortured. Oh, it wasn”t real torture. Nothing like I would have gotten in Singapore had I been arrested by their police. I just missed a meal or two, spent a few uncomfortable nights in a cage, nothing severe. The CRG slaves were going to get worse. For example, I wasn”t beaten. I was whacked once or twice with a swagger stick, but nobody tied me down and whipped me. The point made at survival school was that getting captured by the enemy was not going to be pleasant. If I knew anything, they would too, I would say anything once boredom, starvation, and abusive torment had been inflicted—I would beg to be killed. I believed!

So my reconstruction of the stories of Erica, Kayla and Kara may not be the right one. The three may have cooked up a story in order to stay alive.

“They sent Otto Hayden after us,” Kayla told me. “He was my boyfriend. It”s over between us—he wouldn”t let us go.”

The girls were wild. They were always partying. Kayla and Kara the 18 year old twins. I could tell Kayla from Kara because Kayla had a navel piercing. Erica was 20. They had sex with men and boys several time each week. While their mother was alive, they had kept their wild side hidden. Erica had even earned a bachelor”s in accounting through an accelerated business college! But when their mother died, Mr. Claiborne let them run wild. At first, he didn”t notice their antics. When the three women became more brazen, he ignored them. The last straw was on Thursday—he got his credit card bill and came home to the remains of a drunken orgy. After chasing all of the boys out, Mr. Claiborne confronted his daughters. Erica offered him a blow job—and passed out drunk. That was the last straw!

Mr. Claiborne went down to Spellbook Slaves and talked the problem over with Mr. West. Culbert”s Research Group had a standing request in for young women who were sets of sisters, mothers and daughters, or other close relationships. These three were ideal for CRG”s Slave Think Tank Annex—or so we thought. A deal was struck—Mr. Claiborne got $1800 out of the deal and assurances that his daughters would be safe. Later, after they had adjusted to being slaves, Mr. Claiborne planned to visit them.

Jillian is highly reliable as an information source. From her I learned that Mr. Claiborne rented a red Jaguar and left his car at the rental agency. He had “given” at Mr. West”s office, so Mr. Claiborne didn”t have to see his daughters again until they were well-behaved slave girls.

“Mr. West knows our policy on family visits,” Niki had told me when I asked in other contexts. Our slaves were not going to be forever cut off from loved ones.

The three girls were still hung over when the used car dealer arrived and drove off with their automobiles. They came out of the house screaming and holding their heads—and clutching various clothes around themselves. It was at this point that Mr. Claiborne informed his daughters that they had been sold. They were going to be picked up at noon by Spellbook Slaves.

“Get naked. Get a shower. Go to the living room and wait on the divan.”

Precisely at noon, Kayla”s boyfriend Otto Hayden showed up to collect them. Mr. Claiborne remarked: “She knew you were filming her and she still fucked you? Dumber than I thought. Looks like I made the right call. Come in and get them. They are in the living room.”

Erica gave Otto head as a bribe to “make this all go away”—and Otto used a stun gun on her when she asked, “So, Otto, want to go back to the office and say we weren’t here now?”

Kayla and Kara said that they realized only then how much trouble they were in. They were too shocked to move until Otto threatened them with the stun gun. Erica was out of it—stun guns tend to cause a gap in memory—the memory of being stunned unconscious and what happened next are usually lost. Kayla and Kara remarked how hard it was to move Erica”s dead weight. Hung-over Erica was given a higher Otto-rating than Kayla at her best, but “neither of them are good enough to keep as rental slaves.”

That condemnation of their talents was insult atop injury. F&S Testing bore this out:

Erica O50/V33/A40/41 pain tolerance Medium

Kayla O44/V29/A37/37 pain tolerance Medium

Kara O40/V21/A40/33 pain tolerance High

At the Ms. Perfection Slave Training Academy the three tried to disrupt their class. At first, it was time for the whip. Kara challenged them to beat her some more. The basic training course has limits, and Kara succeeded in taking everything the trainers could dish out. Yes, Jillian reported that the three had a death wish. They frequently threatened to kill themselves and to bite their owners. A night in the cages didn”t cool them off. If anything, it made the three sisters more bitter. When they were brought before the lead trainer, all three sisters fell their knees, turned around, and urinated on the lead trainer! Kayla passed gas, too. They struggled until they were stun gunned—and the report said that all three girls defecated on the floor at that point. It may not have been deliberate.

At Jillian”s all three girls begged for another chance. Jillian separated them without a word. One at a time she asked each woman why Jillian should let them try again. Jillian stressed them both on Thursday and Friday night. I didn”t ask for details. Whatever Jillian did must have worked. All three behaved impeccably on Saturday and Sunday. All three gave the F&S testers their best. Erica”s expression went vacant from time to time—she hadn”t had a proper meal in a week. Kayla got angry at her low scores, but she apologized to her tester and offered restitution—coinciding with her pain tolerance testing. Kara finished her testing, staggered to my office, and vomited on the floor. She was taken to the dispensary. Philip said that she was still fit for training, that he”d tell Donna.

That evening, just before dinner was served, a guillotine was wheeled into the back yard. All 24 slaves and the 6 slave trainers watched as the machine was set up. Jillian appeared and called out six names:

“Debra. Erica. Kara. Kayla. Mandy. Niki.”

As each name was called, the woman named was gagged and strapped face-up on a board. Jillian explained the history of the guillotine, the French revolution and all. She said that her shows sometimes required rapid executions. The boards they were attached to would connect to the guillotine and allow one execution every 15 seconds.

“That means you six have less than two minutes to live. This is how the guillotine works.” Two leather-hooded henchmen grabbed a board loaded with watermelon and snapped it to the guillotine while a third raised the blade and a fourth slid open the board that immobilized the head. It was over in seconds. The board pinned the watermelon in place and the blade was released. I began counting as the first board was yanked away and a second was thrown in place. Yes, 15 seconds. The third watermelon was sliced in half, and Debra”s board was grabbed and connected.

“STOP!” I shouted.

“Aw, Master Robert! I was just going to have a little fun!”

Sandy clutched Anita tightly. Both were crying. Debra was wildly thrashing around when I pulled her free. Yes, I had been let in on the joke. I intervened at the appropriate time.

“I agreed to watermelons only! I”m going to have to watch you more closely!”

Sandy and Anita tended to Debra. Jolin looked at the shaken woman closely—Jolin and Fawn were the psychologist slaves. Niki was pale, sweating profusely, and shaking. Mandy just zoned out. Erica had peed all over herself. Kayla and Kara were sobbing.

“The point of this demonstration is that your lives hang in the balance!” Jillian loaded another melon in the guillotine and released the blade. “It doesn”t take long. Your master is kind-hearted. If you want to remain on his good side. Learn your lessons well.

“Eat up. We begin training at dawn.”

Robert”s Slave Owner”s Diary: Day 67—Spring Rites

Robert Donner (with Og Beater)

WHO—The whole gang!

WHAT—Robert marries the boss”s daughter and converts her to a person of limited rights

WHERE—Slave Think Tank Annex/Culbert”s Research Group

WHEN—Saturday, March 22, 2008

I didn”t get enough sleep.

“Just suck it up and drive on,” I told myself over my third cup of coffee. I thought about the bad day that Niki and Mandy would have. Upon reflection, a little bit of fatigue was nothing. I laughed - and regretted it. My mild headache was nothing compared to what I was going to dish out. “Time to get cracking.”

It was eight already! The wedding was in two hours. I finished my coffee and went to the conference room. Niki and Mandy were being interviewed in one room. Part of the interview process was providing a urine sample—right there in the middle of the conference room over a portable chemical toilet! I needed a urine sample from Mandy and didn”t want to let her know that it was for conversion. Niki knew that she needed to provide one. Everybody was giving it up for their interviews. I watched as our white slaver snagged both bottles and tested them.

“Oh, there you are,” he handed me an empty bottle. I had to produce a sample too because I was requesting the conversions. We guys are better equipped for that sort of thing—more flexible. I also gave him the documents and the videos with Mandy on them.

Two hours flew by. It was difficult for me to get ready because I was tired. I felt as if I were moving in molasses.

Jillian arrived to witness the wedding. She brought the Claiborne sisters with her. I noticed that the three sisters were wearing no restraints. Jillian was barefoot as well as naked this time. The only clothed woman was Niki.

Soon, I was walking down the aisle with my bride. Mandy was Niki”s naked bridesmaid. Haley was a bit old to be a flower girl—but I have no complaints. Niki and I said our vows. As soon as “you may kiss the bride,” came out, the white slaver came forward and announced that he had valid warrants for the conversion of Amanda Shields and Nichole Kidd to “persons of limited rights” status. Mandy gaped at him—as she was already naked and had unknowingly already given him that urine sample, all she had to do is stand there in shock while the slaver launched into declaring them both slaves. I took Niki”s hand and led her to the whipping post. A moment later, she was secured to it.

“Mandy,” I pointed at the next post, “I want you there. Move.”

As Mandy complied, I grabbed Niki”s wedding dress and pulled. It was her mother”s dress and Niki had modified the seams so that I could undress her without destroying her clothing—I”d pull a thread and the entire seam would open up. In seconds, she was naked. I folded the pieces neatly and placed them in a box for later. Jillian took over from Donna at this point and inserted the anal egg and punishment dildo—and the penis gag.

“Don”t let that fall out or you will regret it,” Jillian hissed. “Anita, bring your shears.”

I locked Mandy to the next whipping post. Mandy was in tears, shaking in fear. I rubbed her shoulders and back.

“Who are the other four?” I asked Donna. She pointed at Erica, Kara and Kayla, and then at - Debra?! The four trotted to the whipping posts and were tightly secured. “Slaves of the think tank, I am starting everyone off equal. You will all have shaved heads until the beginning of May. Do not wear clothing—with the health and safety exceptions, I want you to remain naked until the first day of autumn. That will be September 22nd this year. I will be taking you out naked in public and in small groups.”

Anita had reduced Niki”s locks enough to use electric clippers. Niki was weeping. A woman who loses her locks feels as if her femininity has been taken away. That was part of the reason I had ordered mass shearing. Submission was NOT optional.

“Mandy,” I was close enough but I didn”t lower my voice,” you did something very dangerous. Why did you impersonate a slave? If I had known, I would not have exposed you in public until you were safely converted. I am concerned—and I can”t be mad at you. Not now. I should have checked more carefully. The free citizen called Amanda Shields is no more. Slave Mandy isn”t responsible for what Citizen Amanda did. I need to know, anyway. Why did you pretend to be a slave? Why did you let me force you into slavery? It was almost the same as volunteering. I want to know so that I can keep you safe.”

Mandy was trembling too hard to answer. I glanced at the medical team. They shrugged. I looked at Donna. No answers there. Jillian just grinned at me. I was on my own.

“I waited until you were my slave before asking,” I told Mandy as I stroked her buttocks with my palm. “I thank the free woman for letting me have Slave Mandy. I”ve got time to find out why you let me enslave you. The next few hours are not going to be pleasant. It is necessary that you feel fully enslaved. That knowledge has a painful price.”

“You”ve figured out part of your answer, Master Robert,” Jillian informed me. “Your slaves need to feel that they are truly enslaved. That is one secret for my programs” success. Even my pain slaves know that they are first and foremost slaves.”

It took a while for Anita to finish shaving Niki”s head. Had Anita been the only slave working on making scalps bald, she would have been overwhelmed. The Ms. Perfection Slave Academy had helped—9 slaves were recently at that academy. When Anita had finished Niki”s head shaving, I bucked the penis gag harness to Niki”s head. I handled each punishment implement before settling on the cat o-nine tails Niki had requested to be used on her.

“Slaves do not control things,” I told Niki. “I decide when, where, why, how, and how much you are punished.”

I put my feet in the correct location and delivered a forearm slash with Niki”s cat. Niki stiffened and groaned into her gag. I don”t know how much pain I caused Niki. I know how much it hurt me to get whacked by this very punishment instrument. Niki was not me. I was not Niki.

After a dozen slow strokes, I put the whip around her neck and returned to Mandy. I didn”t inflict pain. Instead, I caressed the helpless woman. I made my rounds to the other four slaves secured to whipping posts.

“I may need to inflict pain on you in the future. You need me to inflict pain on you right now. You also need to know that I care about you.” I was cupping Debra”s small breasts in my hands and lightly rubbing her nipples. She leaked milk. “I require obedience, even when what I command frightens you, causes you pain. Sometimes you will have to delay gratification. You have something to say, Debra?”

“Master, I”m sorry that I didn”t,” Debra dissolved into sobbing, regained control of herself, tried to talk again. “I should have surrendered to you the night you asked me to be your slave. I knew then that I had to. I fought you.”

“I forgive you, Debra,” I leaned against her and moved my hands down her belly, down her thighs, then sought out her nether crease. She was wet. “That Debra Glendale doesn”t exist any more. The real Debra does. You. I will still inflict pain and humiliation on you today. It has nothing to do with you misbehaving. The reason I am going to hurt you is so that you know you have no choices. Debra Glendale was right to fear that powerlessness. You have no future because you have no rights. You have no rights because you lack power. What are you going to do about that, slave?”

“I don”t know, Master,” Debra wept.

“You are going to submit totally,” Jillian told her. “Be enthusiastic. If your master wants to snuff you, thank him for his kindness. Eagerly embrace Death. Master Robert isn”t the type to kill slaves without cause—so submit. He won”t do things to you if they aren”t in your best interest. That is what you are going to do, Deb.”

“What about the Claibornes?” I asked. “What am I to do with them?”

“They are on probation, Master Robert.” The redhead told me. “I want them to take the sex classes with everyone else. My pain slaves won”t take any crap off them. You shouldn”t, either, Master.”

It was hard to tell the three apart. They all had large, firm breasts, brown eyes and bald heads. I managed to tell Erica from the rest, but Kara and Kayla? I”d learn. Soon.

“In a few weeks I want you to tell me what happened at Ms. Perfection,” I told Erica. “You”ll tell me after I”ve gained your trust. Until then, focus on your lessons.

“Jillian, most of what humans think and feel takes place below the level of awareness. How do I get around that obstacle?” Once I had asked a question, I had to wait for the other person to answer. It is worse when they ask me a question and I blurt out the answer before they finish their question. I”m often wrong because I jumped in without all the information. It is worse when I”m right because I spook people.

“It”s simple when you think about it, Master Robert. I”ve already told you the answer.”

I thought back to my conversations with Jillian. I relived them all in a few seconds. There! Want the date and time? I re-lived the face-to-face conversation with Jillian: “We take care to get all our trainees into the submissive slave mind set. That is hard to do for some without breaking them, so we have to assess things carefully at the beginning and adjust our methods individually. We also subject all trainees to a certain amount of physical punishment. Even if that isn’t one of your interests, we find that all non-SINO slaves eventually come to require it or get it in some form, and we need to teach them that it can happen to them and how to deal with it.” After I returned to the present, I nodded my understanding.

“Thank you, Jillian.”

“You realize that you will have to demonstrate your concern for them physically?”

“I do. I”ll need some supervision because I”m new at this,” I selected a thin, whippy rod made from some sort of plastic. It was about two feet long and lacked a handle, which kept it from being used with too much force. I held it up and Jillian shook her head. I selected the next size, which was thicker and longer. Jillian nodded. Without preamble, I gave each slave three slashes across the backs of their thighs—all six slaves. I used only wrist action after lining up for a perfect strike. I began with Debra, next the Claibornes, Mandy and last was Niki. They all yelped in surprise—those strokes weren”t forceful, but they were painful. After three stripes, I kissed the back of their necks and moved to the next woman. “You without the gags, I commend you. Nobody is whining.”

“Master is doing fine. Normally we don”t train masters and slaves at the same time. It upsets the slaves to find out that Master isn”t all knowing and all wise.” Jillian commented as she approached me. “My turn, Master Robert. Just like you gave the other slaves, please. Please demonstrate your concern for me on my body, Master Robert.”

I hope that I didn”t hesitate long. I was being trained, too. I gave Jillian the same three stripes and the neck kiss. Jillian was a pleasant armful. What was that about sexual harassment will be graded? Never mind—it was a stupid joke anyway. Jillian soon left.

I kept Niki and the others attached to the whipping posts for six hours. Philip and Morris continually checked them for medical problems. Donna”s pain slave team kept changing the positions of the six on the whipping posts-and their toys. Niki eventually was whipped 80 strokes with six different implements. The others got no more than 20 strokes each. Watch the video. I was worn out at the end of the session. I had to leave others to disconnect the punished slaves and clean them up. I don”t remember going to bed that night.

I woke up on Sunday morning between Jeanie Knapp and pain slave Jolin. They hopped out of bed immediately and fed me breakfast. I finished up this diary entry, did a spell check, decided against having one of the CRG slaves check this because they were all busy. Some are finishing their interviews—Niki is sore today. The other five whipped slaves are moving stiffly. They were being re-interviewed at the same time.

But that”s another story.

Robert”s Slave Owner”s Diary: Day 66—Mad Day of Preparation

Robert Donner (with Og Beater)

WHO—The Claiborne Sisters, Jillian”s Slave Training Studio, Philip and Morris Reynolds, Brian Shields

WHAT—Robert prepares for the wedding on the next day

WHERE—STTA/CRG

WHEN—Friday, March 21, 2008

I had a few days to prepare for the wedding—and for an important training program that would promote domestic tranquility. Several things happened Friday, so I am jotting them down before I forget. Friday”s activities began when Niki and I were engaged I pillow talk. I mentioned that I should have the entire slave staff trained in sexual techniques. There were my own misgivings about whipping Niki. I had seen Asian police kill during “corporal punishment” sessions. Just suspending someone by their wrists could induce a heart attack.

“We are getting a pair of LPN”s on Friday,” Niki said. “The Reynolds boys.”

That was the first I heard of the medical staff at the slave think tank. We were isolated from the main offices so that we would be out of sight of the customers, typically men in their 50″s and 60″s. A few were women of the same generation. While the clients appreciated the female form, nudity bothered them. Okay, I would have my two nurses during the wedding-day whipping.. Niki told me that Philip and Morris were twins and had served as Navy Medical Corpsmen. They had finished schooling and were going to work for us.

“The perks, Robert. They may be working part time for another clinic, but they will live and work here.” That was my answer to “why would they work for us?”

As for getting help whipping Niki and the sex training program, Niki had a solution.

“Jillian”s Slave Training Studio. I have “Training the Slave Wife” and “Fucking the Slave Wife” on DVD. Give me a moment.” Niki bounced out of bed. “Jeanie will keep you warm.”

I admit—snuffing slaves was not my thing. I did a few. It”s a waste—but nobody asked me. The next morning I called Jillian and explained my situation. She reassured me that her training studio preferred to keep slaves alive.

Jillian responded, “You must think we operate the same way all the time that we did in our link-up with ‘Fucking the Slave Wife’. We don’t. Those slaves included some hard-core bitches. We could have tamed them, but there were requirements for culling and time restrictions. We would have liked to have tamed them. We handle a wide range of things, all the way from those hard cases to classes of new young slaves converted by their families that need an introduction to slavery. Those classes are a mix of cooperative and uncooperative slaves. We cover being a slave, submission, proper attitude, and proceed on to sex. We leave domestic training to a partner training program. As I understand it, all of the slaves involved in your situation are either volunteers to you or have accepted being a slave already. That removes the need for strong treatment. They may still be in the free-women-acting-like-slaves stage, which requires careful adjustment. We take care to get all our trainees into the submissive slave mind set. That is hard to do for some without breaking them, so we have to assess things carefully at the beginning and adjust our methods individually. We also subject all trainees to a certain amount of physical punishment. Even if that isn’t one of your interests, we find that all non-SINO slaves eventually come to require it or get it in some form, and we need to teach them that it can happen to them and how to deal with it. Anyway, from what you’ve told me, most of your concerns are not in slave discipline, although I think you need to make sure that your slaves are well trained in that. You want instruction in sexual technique. Most women give lousy blow jobs. We can train them. We can teach them how to please men and women orally. We can teach them better sexual intercourse. Most good-looking women are a little lost about what a man really wants unless they have been with the man for a while. We teach them the various ways to enhance the experience, and ways to tell if what they are doing is what the man wants. We can also teach them anal proficiency. We also train them in how to enhance sex when they are bound. That is a harder skill, but one that we have found to be critical in keeping owners happy. Another thing we find we need to teach most women is how to guide a sexual encounter to a partner’s increased pleasure without acting like a master rather than a slave. There are subtle techniques for helping the partner without taking over. Are these things you are interested in?”

I was. Jillian also offered expert instruction in slave discipline procedures. I made an appointment to see her that afternoon.

Then the Caliborne sisters arrived. Ms. Perfection”s basic slave orientation course lasts ten days and is adequate for 90% of new slaves. Some will break under that stress, but Ms. Perfection monitors for that and shunts the weak ones to another program. There is a 13-week program for “hard core cunts” that was intended to break nearly every woman to the harness—but I would have had to sign a “hold blameless” waiver because some women died or went insane. Ms. Perfection was careful, but they had some breakage. Kara, Kayla and Erica had almost gotten themselves snuffed for servile insurrection. At the last moment, I had been called and I met them for the first time. They were naked—of course. Ms. Perfection shaved heads for their basic course—some of their instructors had been military women and they considered it an important psychological tool. The three women were striped with welts and were tightly bound. I was on my way to Jillian”s, so I took them along with me.

“What have we here?” Jillian was a redhead with the classically perfect centerfold face and body. It was the type of perfection that caused people—other women especially—to cluck about plastic perfection. So what if it is “artificial”—we humans are NOT natural. Natural or artificial, Jillian was nice to look at. She was entirely naked except for some boots that had stiletto heels and that reached nearly to her knees. Jillian was refereeing to the three bald Claiborne sisters.

“I”m not sure. Look, before we begin, I need to establish a protocol when dealing with your instructors. They may be slaves, ma”am, but they are professionals hired to do a job I can”t do. They deserve my respect and they need me to demonstrate respect for them if they are to achieve what I want. Most of that respect is staying out of their way while they establish the pecking order.”

Jillian regarded me for a while. I am inexpert at body language, but I know enough to remain silent while I”m being evaluated. While waiting for her judgment I realized that she was immensely turned on. I”m sure that it wasn”t me. Perhaps she had a lover and had just left him? Or was the lover “her?” Not my affair.

“You are rare,” she said at last. “Most men would want to try running things. Why are you willing to let us do things our way?”

“Experience. I tell you what I want. You determine how to do it. If I knew how, why would I hire someone else?”

“What are these three? Who beat them?”

“Ms. Perfection rejects.” I briefly explained their adventures over the last few days. “I would like to keep them because they are clever and resourceful. They”re cute, too, and I”m a sucker for a pretty face. I need to have a team dedicated to troubleshooting and brain storming. My slaves are think tank researchers. These three should be excellent at breaking the groupthink log jams. Problem—I cannot tolerate misbehavior. I won”t have them disrupting operations or creating drama that hurts the other slaves. These are #22, #23 and #24 on my slave list. They were supposed to join us next weekend. Now, I don”t know if I have to snuff them or not.”

“Why would you have to snuff them?”

“If I kill one of them, I”d better get rid of the rest,” I hung my head. “I know first hand how vindictive the helpless are when they have been hurt. Killing one sister is not going to sit well with the other two.”

“These three are going to be hard cases,” Jillian looked them over. “I will charge you $250 each for evaluation. I need them to remain here with me for a few days. I can tell you more about how much time and money it will take to tame them later.”

“I”d like to make videos of the training,” I said. “We discussed joint video crews. I know a bit about proprietary methods, but I need data for research projects. I need reliable data. Most primary research is, well, the process is corrupted by marketing requirements.”

Jillian laughed. Her laughter made me feel much better. We agreed that we”d meet again on Friday and I”d get the report on Erica, Kayla and Kara. I bid my three slaves goodbye. They looked so forlorn when I left without them.

The six-slave training team was to arrive on Friday and set up for the wedding day whipping and the initial individual interviews from Friday through Monday. Monday would be the F&S testers and a meat grader from Hill”s—they were to establish a baseline for measuring training program progress.

“You do realize that F&S leaves out orgasmic response,” Jillian pointed out.

“Yes. They say it doesn”t matter. I”d be interested in comparing your before and after scores on sexual performance. F&S only does women—free women with a release form, slave women anytime.”

“You have only slaves at your place?”

“Right now, there is one free woman. She”s being converted at our wedding. Niki said that you should handle the sex training program and I can see that Niki was right.” I got that look again. “There are 7 men on site. One is a gay couple and the other two couples are bisexual men in same-sex unions. Then there”s me. I expect to get another three couples in the next 90 days. I have a pair of twin brothers, Philip and Morris Reynolds, arriving Friday. They”re my medical team.”

I was introduced to the slave trainers. Their names were Donna, Mickie, Fawn, Jolin, Belle and Kuri. There wasn”t time to get to know them well. We went over the plans for the wedding, the preliminaries for sex training and I left feeling pleased with myself. I was set up to chain six slaves to whipping posts on Saturday.

All this occurred before Friday morning—this morning. I woke up early—around four. I was able to finish most of the planning before the rest of the house woke up three hours later. It was a good thing—Friday began early and went on and on and on and on—if only my laptop batteries had that much juice! I got all 21 slaves and the male support staff together and briefed them on the weekend”s events. By nine, Niki”s home was humming with activity.

Donna arrived at nine with the other five trainers—and there were several people as a video crew. The trainers would be around for the next 15 days. The video crew would vanish except during the scheduled training sessions. There was also a team of psychologists to conduct interviews of the 21 women. Niki was first.

Brian pulled me aside while the interview teams were working.

“You have a problem that you are unaware of,” he told me.

“That”s why I hired you,” I responded. “If I knew everything—well I don”t know what I”d do if I knew everything. What is it this time? What did I forget?”

“You forgot to enslave Mandy.”

Amanda Shields was Brian”s daughter. I felt the blood drain from my face. I had taken the naked Mandy out in public several times during the last two weeks. The things I did -

“Robert, breathe,” Brian commanded. “It is okay! We can fix her.”

“I have videos,” I said, still light-headed. “I think I can convert her at the wedding tomorrow. I”m going to string her to a whipping post, too—don”t tell her. I will leave her until I”ve finished whipping Niki and who ever else I think needs it, then I”ll tell Mandy that what she did as a free woman doesn”t count because Mandy is no longer that person.”

“Good,” Brian said. “You got so pale that I was going to call an ambulance.”

“It”s just that Mandy was in so much danger!”

“Yes. I didn”t want her to become a slave.” Brian had that thousand yard stare. “She didn”t want to become a slave. I don”t know what came over her.”

Donna”s training team brought some heavy equipment. One piece of gear looked like a large aquarium. It had Plexiglas panels that were an inch thick and was 10″x10″x8″. When it was set up, the tank began filling. It would take more than 59,000 gallons to fill! While not as much as a typical swimming pool, that was a lot of coffee pots! Several stocks and pillories were set up, along with suspension systems.

“Master Robert, Jillian will drop in from time to time,” Donna said. “You are my special project. I will teach you to whip well. Once you have the technique correct on the practice pell, you will run each of us through the whipping post.”

“Okay,” I was uneasy, so I resorted to my default coping mechanism. “I think distance estimation is the most difficult part of using flexible weapons such as the whip. Let me measure and mark where I should stand so that I keep the distance the same each time.”

Lunch—I forgot. Dinner was hectic. I began whipping live backs a few minutes after dinner. Donna and the other five women were pain slaves. The following principles guided me:

* “Remember that you are controlling the session—not Niki.” Donna was replaced by Mickie as team leader when it was Donna”s turn to be whipped so that this principle wouldn”t be violated.
* Use the appropriate tool. There were several different whips of various weights and all had a purpose. I was only going to use three on Niki. Whips weren”t the only tool—there were shock collars and punishment dildos and canes and water boarding -
* Apply enough force in the strokes—not too much, yet enough.
* Use the appropriate number of strokes—and I would determine what that number was.
* Consistency in technique and correctly judging distances were the key to effective whip use.
* There were many targets on the human body that could take a whipping, several sites for causing pain. I whipped backs, thighs (all four sides), stomachs, pussies, breasts, calves, the soles of the feet, hands, and arms.
* Use appropriate safety equipment. Covering the kidneys and spine when using a cane was appropriate.

“I don”t need them because I don”t miss,” Donna explained. Practice makes perfect!

I finally was permitted to stagger into bed around midnight. It may strike many owners as funny, putting myself under the command of a slave—but I needed the skills Donna gave me. I tested those skills when fatigued and passed the test. By no means was I an expert—just proficient within a narrow range of tasks.

It is entirely possible that the trainers let me sleep simply because I was dead on my feet—not because I met minimum performance standards. If so, I thank them for being merciful.

Robert”s Slave Owner”s Diary: Day 64 - Fresh Meat from Dutch Hall

Robert Donner

WHO—Charles Bourbon, Jethro Earlshire, Nichole “Niki” Kidd, Maryann, Lisa, Cynthia, Dawn, Opal, Jeanie and Anita
WHAT—five former Dutch Hall students join the team—and so does a blast from the past!
WHERE—Culbert”s Research Group Slave Satellite Research Station (AKA Niki”s House)
WHEN—Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Niki”s home was now my home. I finished moving out of my ranch house with the help of a bunch of slaves and two rental moving trucks. It felt as if I were burning my boats behind me—or at least a bridge. The logic was that I had a place to live and I didn”t need two.

When I went into the dining hall for dinner, I saw a ghost.

“You were executed.” I don”t think I sounded that calm because the ghost laughed at me.

“No,” the ghost laughed some more. “Like you, I was given a show trial. The media made a big deal about me having my own gun in a combat zone. Ours were locked up, weren”t they? Just like the anti-sabotage measures at Pearl Harbor: they worked, no line crossing guerrilla got his hands on a loaded US weapon. The guards had only one magazine and five rounds. I had more for my gun than they did!”

“Aren”t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Niki asked.

“This is an old service buddy, Chuck Bourbon. I thought he had been court martialed and executed.”

“I visited you in the hospital, Rob. You were out of it after surgery. How”s your head?” Chuck chuckled again. “This is quite a set-up you have here. Well, aren”t you going to welcome me to the team?”

“He doesn”t know,” Niki said. “Better get your spouse. After he signs the contract on Friday, he will be your boss. Right now, it”s not official.”

“I hear that you”ll own all of this on Saturday,” Chuck said. “Let me go get Jethro.”

Spouse? Jethro? I was fine when I woke up this morning. There weren”t any rabbit holes to fall down.

“Dear, don”t think so hard. The other men have to be in a same-sex marriage. CRG did a study and determined that bisexual male couples would be the most effective support staff for the slave research groups.”

“I”m glad to meet you, sir!” Jethro was a slender lad that didn”t look old enough to shave. Jethro and Chuck made a stereotypical pair—Chuck was, of course, the big hairy football-player ex-Marine type spoofed on sitcoms. Except for this fact—Chuck had a brilliant mind. What was he doing here working for me? I thought that he was dead. “Chuck says that you saved his life in Korea.”

“Vietnam, Jethro,” Chuck grimaced, tousled the hair on the younger man”s head. “Boss, is there any chance that you will let him attend classes with the slaves? Jethro needs to correct 13 years of public miss-education!”

“All staff needs continuous education,” I replied. “I”m no exception. Why would the male staff be exempted? What does your contract say?”

Chuck told me. I was unsure that I heard correctly, so I will verify before I write it down in the diary. There were seven men on the station: I was to be the only “single” guy. The other six men had married each other. What did I let myself in for? The only marriage requirement in my contract was that I had to enslave my wife at my wedding ceremony. I was expected to marry again in the future.

After Chuck and Jethro I was a bit distracted throughout dinner.

“Do gay guys bother you?” Niki asked.

“They did. Now it”s different. This is the 21st Century. Besides, I don”t have to bed them.” I looked my fiancée in the eye, “All these years I have been thinking that the Corps threw three of us to the wolves. I thought that Sergeant Chuck Bourbon had been executed for having an illegal Browning High Power pistol in his sea bag.”

There was another reason, too.

“I had a brief flashback,” I confessed to Niki. “I flashed back to the battle and the court martial. Given a choice, I”d rather do the battle than the court martial. I didn”t have time to feel fear or that I was being screwed over when those satchel charges went off. I just grabbed my tool box and ambushed those…”

“Typical male,” Niki cooed. “I could talk my way out of anything. Which reminds me, right after you enslave me, you have to hang me up and beat me.”

“Huh?”

“Yes,” Niki continued brightly. “Fifty lashes with a cat-o”nine-tails. Just start in and let me have it at one stroke every ten to fifteen seconds. You are going to be my owner. You have the right to snuff me at any time. I need you to beat me so that I understand in my very core that you are my undisputed master and lord.”

“That wasn”t in the contract.”

“No. I need to be conquered. You are a gentle soul,” Niki stroked my bicep, “and very intellectual. We humans are savage animals. Not every slave needs to be beaten by you. Your Sandy would happily submit to you beating her to death if she thought you wanted that. Haley is like that, too. I know that you are my best mate logically, but we humans are not logical. I need you to whip me and fuck me on our wedding day in front of my father, my uncle, all of the other slaves and the male staffers. Do you want to practice?”

My psychology teacher was right. Everybody is crazy. Speaking of crazy, it is incredible that Niki was as naked as the slaves. It was her house, she was a free woman, so I didn”t think twice about it until Chuck ordered Jethro out of his shorts.

After dinner, I was introduced to the newest slaves in CRG”s slave think tank. They were from Dutch Hall and had been converted two or three weeks before. The five women had fresh welts on their skin. Their slave obedience school had scalped them—their heads were smoothly shaved, just as Debra”s had been. They had been sent to a rather severe slave obedience school, the Ms. Perfection Slave Academy. Normally, non-marring electrical punishment was the rule. Ms. Perfection used pain, embarrassment, humiliation, exposure, discomfort, hunger, terror and boredom to brainwash the new slaves. Niki explained as I inspected the new think tank workers that she had specified whipping.

“It will have to be part of our incentive program.” Niki caressed the nearest shoulder. That slave was the tallest one. “Do you know how Dutch Hall works?”

“No,” I admitted. “I was a product of the public school system and college isn”t the same thing.”

“Dutch Hall Preparatory Academy has become a slave trap,” Niki explained. “The senior class enslaves a third of its female students every year. It is a kindergarten through 12th grade private school on 81st Street. There are about 1000 students and the campus is 59 acres—that”s enough, mister!”

“Now what?” I was irritated. Niki was just getting to the good parts.

“Better,” she said. “You were geeking for a moment. These five were part of a Spellbook Slave package. The female students may either be enslaved, under a conditional conversion contract, or free with no contract. Four of these were under a conversion contract. Let”s start with Opal, here. Opal, tell your new master why you were converted?”

“Master,” Opal fell to the floor on her knees. She mumbled into the floor.

“That won”t do,” I said. “Opal, stand up. I can”t hear you. Now, tell me again.”

“Master, I accumulated too many demerits.”

“This is Dawn.” The slaves had been seated in height order. Dawn had a vacant expression. “Dawn, tell the master why you were converted.”

“My parents just walked into the slaver office and had me converted.” Dawn snapped out of her reverie and began to weep as she pleaded for mercy.

“You have been a bad girl,” Niki said. Niki delivered three rapid barehanded slaps to Dawn”s rump. It was a joke after what Ms. Perfection had done to the five girls. “You have been punished. You are forgiven. Don”t do that again.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Dawn hiccupped.

“Cynthia? You are next.”

“Yes, Mistress. I got too many demerits, Master.”

“Lisa?”

“Yes Mistress. Master, I failed a “can”t fail” test and was converted.”

“Last is Maryann.”

“Yes Mistress. I also failed a “must pass” exam.”

“There is one more working with Anita this evening. She”s Jeanie.” Niki took me to the kitchen. Anita and a young bald woman were pushing racks of dishes into the dish washer. The kitchen is a dangerous place, so in here the two slaves wore lab coats, rubber gloves and rubber boots for protection. Niki had to yell to be heard over the commercial dishwasher. “Jeanie, meet your new master!”

“Master!” Jeanie said.

“Jeanie, as soon as you finish here, you are the master”s companion for the night,” Niki said. “Anita will take you to his office. Don”t forget to bathe first.”

“Jeanie, how did you get converted?” I asked.

“Daddy took me in, Master.” Jeanie”s face clouded up. “He said that I might be good at cock sucking, but that I was useless as a slave maid and that I had a low pain tolerance. He didn”t even say goodbye. Master, I want to please you any way I can. Command me!”

“Obey Anita. I will see you later tonight.” I jerked my head towards the door and walked out. Niki followed. “Niki, do those five know each other?”

“Yes they do. Maryann, Lisa, Cynthia, Dawn and Opal were all in the same dorm room. If the entire dorm room is emptied out, there is less stress on the rest of the school. Take out a few of the girls in the same room and it hurts morale. Jeanie was their dormitory manager.”

“It strains credulity that all six of them would be converted on the same day for trivial offenses.” I glanced at Niki. “What obvious fact am I overlooking?”

“It wasn”t an accident,” my fiancée confirmed. “Two out of three women in the senior class will be converted. It is part of the plan. There are three lists: must convert, may convert, and must not convert. Roughly 80% of the girls in the junior and senior classes are at risk on any one day of becoming a slave. The rest are already slaves or their parents refuse to sign a conversion contract. Dawn”s parents were one of those. They changed their minds when we waved enough dollars in front of them.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Even without a conditional enslavement, it is easy to convert a girl at Dutch Hall. The academy has a zero tolerance policy on drugs and weapons. There are other convertible offences even without the conditional enslavement: cheating on tests, fighting, stealing. About 25% of the girls entering the 11th grade are on the “must convert” list. Actually, if you don”t count transfers during the senior year, half of the junior girls will be enslaved by graduation. From there, more will be converted just after graduation. The Dutch Hall Board of Directors is all part of the Slaver Cabal. Now I said that a quarter of the female students are tagged for conversion. There is a very slim chance that someone on that list will not be converted. The “must convert” list has two inputs—merit and parental preference. Jeanie”s father converted her because he caught Mrs. Knapp screwing the gardener. He snuffed the mother on the 8th, roasted her. Max Knapp was actually merciful to his daughter. He could have had her snuffed as well. It was his legal right. Mr. Knapp didn”t—he sold Jeanie to Spellbook. Anita saw this lost little puppy and asked that we buy her. You need to review the Ms. Perfection reports on each of your slaves. Jeanie did everything she was told to the best of her ability. I think that Jeanie will respond to your laid back leadership style.”

“I was never really a leader,” I said. “I basically got corporal because I had high grades and I signed up for six years. I wasn”t a very good Marine. Poor attitude, for one. I can”t do that here or someone dies.”

“Good! But some of these girls are so submissive that they need a strong, loving hand to guide them. You just do what you did with Debra and you”ll be okay.”

“You said that there were three lists at Dutch Hall. What about the other two lists? And other schools?”

“Geeking again! Oh, well! The “may convert” list covers 50% of the students. The “must not convert” list is the rest. The Board of Directors sets out the lists based upon academic, artistic, and athletic achievements and on the students” citizenship scores. I graduated from there prior to WSA 2000 or I might have already become a slave—instead of expulsion, Dutch Hall converts now. Parents are encouraged to exercise their right of parental conversion at any time. The Board would not shed a tear if every female student at Dutch Hall was converted tomorrow—that means every girl down to the kindergarten level, Robert. In that event, they”d also convert every teacher, too, and they”d only spare some of the top women. Doing so would turn Dutch Hall into an all-boys school and they”d have to close up because they wouldn”t have enough students. The Board has determined that removing some of the juniors and one in three seniors won”t panic the students or make them feel hopeless, yet will yield the maximum amount of slaves. It is hard, with about half of the junior girls getting converted through the school over a two year period. With those girls already enslaved by their parents, the odd PPC or conversion by magistrate for criminal acts off-campus, and the post-graduation conversions by parents, over 2/3rds of the girls that enter their junior year at Dutch Hall will be slaves within 30 months. Eastlake Tech is a different school entirely. There is Eastlake University. Most of the schools in Eastlake are slave traps. It is possible for a girl to avoid enslavement. Hard, but possible. About like a boy going through grade school—boys will be boys and girls will be girls.”

“I don”t understand.”

“Society is left brained and very much anti-human,” Niki said. We had reached my office by then. “Boys are perpetual motion machines. In school they are supposed to sit still like little statues. No noise! Don”t day dream! For girls, becoming a woman is anti-social. Having any sort of fun is bad for you. I would be surprised if nobody was converted for getting fat! Don”t enjoy mood altering drugs! No sex! Spend all of your time studying boring stuff! It”s going to get worse. That”s why your contract requires you to convert your daughters. As the ratio of women to men rises, more women will be enslaved.”

“I”m glad that you will be my slave,” I said. “I”ll have someone smart to talk to.”

“We”re all smart. Did you know that Jeanie has an IQ of 160? The reason she gets into trouble is that she is too smart. Jeanie is also submissive to a fault. The others are like that, too. I”m too dominating. It is why you will have to beat me occasionally. It is why there are men around to help you.”

I couldn”t help feeling that I was unworthy of these women. Do my best—that”s my motto.

“I need to review the personnel spreadsheet again,” I yawned. “Today wasn”t a hard day. Why am I so tired?”

“Stay awake, Master Robert! Tonight you have to take on Jeanie and me!”

Can”t beat the perks on this job. My worries weren”t over having slaves. I was worried that I”d do something stupid and lose them. At least I”d never have to worry about a dateless Saturday night.

Robert”s Slave Owner”s Diary: Day 61 - Anita”s Hope

Robert Donner

WHO—A cast of dozens—again! Debra, Sandy, Jade, Peach, Brian Shields, Amanda “Mandy” Shields, Tricia, Rhoe, Pam, Karen, Desiree, Loni, Kathleen, Nichole “Niki” Kidd, Haley, Anita Kitchener, Hope Kitchener, Howard Kitchener, Regina Anderson, James Anderson, Gary and Kevin

WHAT—Anita”s family merges with mine

WHERE—Donner Residence, Culbert”s Research Group Slave Satellite Research Station (AKA Niki”s House)

WHEN—Sunday, March 16, 2008

The party went on until the wee hours of the morning. Sometime Sunday afternoon I woke up with someone”s lips on my penis. I didn”t recognize her. We weren”t alone. Anita, Debra, Sandy, Niki, Mandy and a second stranger crowded around the bed. I really felt the two sleepless nights and unending physical activity at that moment.

“Thank you,” I croaked. “Anita, it is good to see you again. Who is this? Hope?”

“Yes, Master,” the woman said. There was a strong resemblance between mother and daughter. Hope had larger breasts—not as big as Anita”s, but big. Firm too. Like Anita, Hope was a brunette. “This is Regina.”

“She”s James” sister,” Anita explained. I know that my puzzlement showed in my face. “James Anderson! Howard”s partner.”

“Please,” Sandy intervened, “our poor master isn”t awake.”

“What time is it? I have things to do.” When I sat up, vertigo hit me. “Where did I put my glasses?”

It didn”t take much to convince me to retire early that night! I just needed to tend to a few things—such as the revisions to the contract.

“Monday,” Mandy told me. “The documents will be ready on Monday by 2 PM.”

The second thing was the move out from my ranch house. Niki and I agreed that I would move in this week. We also agreed that unless Niki had to go out in public, she”d remain naked. Yes, Nichole was still a free woman. She wanted to have a wedding and I was going to accommodate her. Then I was going to enslave my new bride—she”d become mere property in the eyes of the law. Later, of course, some of my slaves would gain authority to act for the company. I had reserved two rental trucks for Tuesday and Wednesday—and lots of supplies.

Next, I would be given a tour of the facilities. Niki”s large home had been converted into a think tank. The heart of the think tank was a single main frame computer in the basement and run by a two-man crew—-Gary and Kevin. There were conference rooms and telecommunications nodes and numerous computer work stations located throughout the house. All this was protected by a security system—-I was to find out that Howard and James were my security staff. Anita was going to manage the household staff—the kitchen, housekeeping, grounds maintenance, and the company motor vehicle fleet.

Scale efficiency of communal living should give a good idea of how much money could be saved by using slaves instead of free workers. First of all, the slaves are housed in kennels, rooms holding up to eight women. Second, slaves don”t need clothing. Third, food: instead of roughly 120 households providing the labor, there will be only 120 people living on site. Feeding them would fall on Anita and her crew. Yes, the 120 workers would feed themselves and Anita would need about 20 workers for the housekeeping and kitchen staff, and there”s be another 20 workers in support positions (including me), but the remaining 80 workers would be working 60 hours per week-—50% more than the free worker staff. Wait, it got better! There was still a need for housekeeping staff and support personnel: finance, personnel, and our own computer geeks. We could have worked the researchers 84 hours per week. Do the math—that is 12 hour days every day. Six 10-hour days permitted us to run continuing education. Think tanks are all about information. Running a school two hours per night for six nights per week was the bare minimum to keep up with the world. The “day off” was not a luxury. A think tank isn”t an assembly line. The slaves would need to recharge their batteries. The “day off” was to catch up on anything put off during the week. Oh, did I mention that the slaves had to exercise, bathe frequently, eat, sleep and recreate? In addition to all this high-maintenance stuff, I had planned to produce a dozen children and raise them right there at the think tank.

This wouldn”t work for everyone. Supermarkets and discount stores had to cut their worker cost. Worst of all was agriculture. Mining and logging are rough, too, but the true “field hands” of the 21st Century are the agricultural workers. Besides, most slave owners didn”t combine family and work force.

Items One and Two had to wait on other events. I”d look over the contracts again Monday afternoon and finalize with signatures Friday. If all went well, we”d officially begin operations on Monday, March 31st. All I was going to do today was tour the facilities. I put on a robe and slippers—no need to dress up. This was to be my first tour. I hadn”t even realized that Niki”s house—soon to be mine—was being configured as a think tank. The physical plant was simple when compared to most industries, but a nickel tour would still overwhelm with minutia.

“Good morning, Niki,” I said as I entered the first stop on my tour, the formal business offices. We needed a place to meet with clients and entertain them. “Let”s begin.”

“Coffee, Master?” Niki was still a free woman. She decided that except for Saturday, she”d live as a slave—for the rest of her life. I don”t really understand women. I appreciate what they were doing for me. They do not deserve contempt—-women deserve respect and praise for what they do. “I”m feeling last night, too. You stayed up and read that contract?”

“Yes. I regret it right now. I”ll appreciate it more sometime later. Much later. After I get some of that coffee and a good night”s rest. Thank you.”

“Before we begin the tour, let me ask why you didn”t marry Debra.”

“Master, may I answer that question?” Debra asked. When I nodded, Debra knelt in front of the free woman and bowed. “Mistress—”

“Do not call me mistress, Debra. In a week I will be a slave like you. Continue.”

“Yes, mistress—”Debra put her hand over her mouth. There was scattered laughter.

“Blame the Ms. Perfection Slave Academy,” I said. “I went through a milder form of brainwashing—-Marine Corps Basic Training. It still affects me, ma”am.”

“Master Robert offered to marry me and convert me. I threw my drink in his face and slapped him. I hit him with all my strength. I hit him twice. I called him names. I did this in public and Master Robert could have had me charged with assault right then and there. I walked out on him. I cried until nearly midnight, Sandy called me. She had volunteered to become Master Robert”s slave girl. I just lost my mind.” Debra”s voice became soft. “I was scared out of my mind. I was angry. I shouted at the police and got tasered. I spent a week in jail regretting my own birth. Master Robert had me kill three of my cell mates, and then I went to that place. Master, do I have to talk about that place?”

I shook my head.

“Sandy, why did you volunteer?” Niki asked.

“I wanted to be a slave ever since WSA 2000 passed. It was only a matter of finding the right owner. Deb didn”t want to convert me. As soon as Deb rejected Master Robert, I drove over and submitted to him totally. Deb was born to be a slave, too, but she needed someone else to make her see that fact.”

“Anita, I understand that you were enslaved by your husband.”

“Yes.” Anita glanced at her daughter, Hope, and smiled. “It has been a long five years. A few weeks after WSA took effect, Herbert was waiting for me at home with a slaver. The slaver informed me that I was being enslaved and that if I resisted I would be stunned. I tried to plead, but Herbert had me stripped and bound in front of my children. I was sent to a slave school and whipped as soon as I got in the door. I was fucked and whipped every day. I got only some foul tasting water the first day. There was little food while I was there. It was horrid stuff, but by the third day dried dog turds would have been welcome. When I left the school, I was a different animal—I was a slave. My new owners were my old employees. Herbert had sold them my beauty shop and me. The beauty shop had a staff of six slaves. The other five were from other places, but I used to run the beauty shop and I soon resumed running it. The owners were stupid bimbos—sorry, Master Robert. Girls, I just violated a rule and I need to offer restitution. Master Robert forbids us to slander our former owners—even Herbert Kitchener.”

“Continue with your story, Anita,” I said. “We”ll work out something later. I think it was an excusable slip.”

“Thank you, Master. The two owners soon had to sell slaves to make ends meet. The shop was down to three people when I fell ill. The owners couldn”t afford medical care for themselves. I was dying. One of my regular customers, Sandy Glendale, offered to buy me. Sandy saved my life. That was two years ago. I was prohibited from contacting my family by my owners and the slave school made me afraid to ask. “You are no longer Anita Kitchener,” they told me. “You are an animal called Slave Anita or whatever your new owner wants to call you. He might not even allow you to have a name. Get used to it, cunt!” Oh, my owners soon let me wear the normal smock. It was open at the back and showed my butt, but it was clothing. Our clients were offended by total nudity, but enjoyed poking fun at us slaves. Once Sandy nursed me back to health, I took over running the Glendale townhouse. Debra had three school mates working for her. Master Robert, I apologize if I am insulting free women, but I did a better job all by myself than those three did. I replaced them.”

“Facts are one thing and opinion another, Anita,” I said. “You replaced three people. What happened to them?”

“Master, may I?” Debra asked. I nodded. “Two of them were out drinking. Rachel and Janice were my cook and housekeeper. They went out with their boyfriends on Friday night. They didn”t come home Sunday, which wasn”t unusual, but I got worried. I found out that they had both been converted for being drunk in public and sold to an alternate meat source dealer and were already dead Monday morning. Master, that is why I panicked when you mentioned enslavement. They were my friends!”

“What happened to the third?” I asked.

“Kimberly was my office manger,” Debra was crying now. “She had gotten a second job, her dream job. Kimberly was working for a real estate office when she got converted a few months ago. I found out the story because her father is Judge Timothy Hammes. I was interviewed and I gave him Kimberly”s things. She got converted for credit card contract breach. She had to sign for a company credit card. The fine print was that she had to make the monthly payments on time—no grace period. Kim also had to h