21st Century Subterranean Slavery

21st Century Subterranean Slavery Part III

     By Reavan

Training Classes.

In the morning after she’d served the madam sexually and as furniture the previous evening, as well as having been fucked and sodomized by the warden during the night she was led out of his office for the first time in five days, except for the photo shoot and short session in the madam’s office as live furniture. After going through some tunnels, she was led into a large gym and then to an adjoining room for a psychical fitness assessment. She was weighed and every part of her anatomy was measured flexed and soft; her fat index measured and recorded. Another woman wearing a robe without a hood entered from a back door and studied her chart.

“Let’s see now, One-eight-six, I am the health and fitness mistress, you will refer to me as mistress. You will train here at least five days a week, an hour to start, mostly cardiovascular to increase your stamina and some weight training.

“The syndicate has classified you as a soft-body sex slave; a calculated marketing strategy focusing primarily on the male, older Asian demographic; as well as other men with an obsessive fixation or fetish with large rubenesque white females, particularly blondes.

“Your body fat index will be monitored and based on your body size our initial objective will be to add five or ten pounds, following a planned diet and exercise regimen to maximize your appeal. Even though you have nothing to say in the matter, there is no need for concern. Ruben’s models were actually fat. You will never have rolls; your waists to hips ratio as well as your breasts size is highly marketable and will be maintained or even improved. Now, I see that you have belonged to several health clubs when a free citizen and have worked as an assistant trainer plus a short time in a massage parlor; so you are well aware that motivation is more than half the battle. We can soon tell if you’re only going through the motions and if so, you’ll be severely punished!

“It is my responsibility to maximize the syndicate’s profits and I’ll do that in your case by fine tuning your curves to suit the older male’s fantasies and then increasing your stamina to endure long sexual sessions. So in your own words, what is the purpose of this gym?”

“To make my body sexier for older Asian men and make me stronger so I can provide sex for extended periods.”

“Yes primarily Asians, according to our records but also older men of other ethnic groups. Do you know why it can take longer with older men?”

“A prostitute once told me that older men take longer to cum and don’t have the staying power so she would get on top and do the work.”

“That about right,” she studied the chart, holding it with one hand while feeling various parts of her body, asking her to flex and relax. She then handed it to the assistant and grasped her ass cheeks with both hands asking her to flex several times. “You’re right,” she said nodding at the assistant. “We can improve the firmness and protrusion somewhat, that is unusual really for a white female who already boast more overhang than many blacks.” She slapped her ass lightly a couple of times and then reached around feeling her stomach, ordering her to suck it in and relax several times. “No improvement necessary there, she then felt her breasts like the doctor had. “Best set of DD’s I’ve felt some time One-eight-six; Hem…I think I have time to check you out rights now.” She took a deep breath while she continued to caress them.

For the first time since being abducted she felt a rush from someone touching her and, wished she wouldn’t stop. The mistress then grasped her chin, drawing her down to her level kissing her softly while slipping a finger into her vagina.

“Um I like your response, One-eight-six,” she turned her head to her assistant. A-1 Prepare my chambers.”

“Yes mistress, she opened a door at the back and left. The mistress then continued to kiss her while ordering her to respond.

The assistant reentered after a short time, “your chamber is ready mistress.”

“Very well bring her in,” the assistant ordered her to pick up the ball and led her through the door by the neck chain. They entered a very comfortable bed sitting room with a large bed in the middle. The mistress was by now sitting in an arm chair studying some papers. She was ordered to set her ball in a receptacle on one bedpost. She then disconnected her neck chain and told her to sit on the edge of the bed.

“The trainee is ready mistress.” She continued to read her papers for a minute and then got up nodding at the assistant who removed her robe hanging it on a tree. “Do I leave now mistress?”

“No, you will watch,” One-eight-six watched her walking towards her, a Latino probably in her mid thirties with a shapely very fit olive skinned body. She sat down and grasped on of her breasts kissing her. “You will make love to me now at your own volition; what position would you like me in?” She barely understood the word but assumed she was to take the lead and embraced her while moaning with genuine passion.

“Please mistress would you stand up first and flex for me?” She appeared surprised but got up and went through a series of poses. One-eight-six gasped with excitement, this woman was like some of her muscle building lesbian girl friends. She got up and ran her hands over her rippling muscles for a while as she continued to flex. One-eight-six then gasped and threw herself on the bed reaching for her. “Please mistresses squash me.” She landed hard on top of her as their bodies and lips locked, both gasping with pleasure; one groping and relishing a soft and the other a hard body.

After five days with the Warden and Madam, being coerced to moan with pleasure, she was truly making love to a woman and moaning of her own free will. She had a body like many of the women she’s met in the gyms, females with that male muscular feel. She spread her thighs and clamped her legs around her body, rocking her pelvis as their mounds, one shaven and one hairy met. They both reached and fingered each other while still necking. “Oh mistress I want your tongue, my chain is too short would you?” she rocked her pelvis wildly while her lover reversed position. Their tongues plowed the inner labia’s while twenty fingers clutched four ass cheeks. She climaxes almost instantly and then several times before her mistress moaned loudly and rolled off, her eyes closed while breathing with total satisfaction.

The assistant took her hand, motioning for her to get up and pick up the ball. She then led her into a bathroom where she used a wet towel to wipe her off. The mistress was still lying with her eyes closed when they reentered. She opened her eyes while the assistant hooked up the neck chain again.                 

“My assistant will get you started in the gym now,” she closed her eyes again obviously enjoying her climax.

The assistant smiled at her knowingly, raising her eye-brows, uttering a quiet. “Um wow, follow me then and we’ll get started.”

For the first time as a sex slave she was fulfilled. She had climaxed with the madam and even the beast but that was just part of her nature this time she felt warm inside. She had been loved not just used. 

The trainer put her through the paces for nearly an hour; mostly on a treadmill with probes attached, monitoring and noting the results. She had time to think about what the mistress and that spark of electricity between them, a bond felt right in the pit of her stomach; something that had happened to her only a couple of times in her life and only with women. The madam of course had told her that she would be serving staff supervisors at their digression.

Her final exercise simulated sexual intercourse with her on top. There were probably fifty slaves in that section doing the same. They were all on their forearms and spread knees bouncing their asses up and down to a beat by an electronic metronome. She found it impossible to keep up for more than twenty or thirty bounces at that speed. The trainer watched her carefully noting her performance level. When the beat finally stopped after probably ten or fifteen minutes she just dropped flat on the floor gasping for air. She noticed a few of the females near her had never missed a beat.

She was then led to an auditorium, given a sort of paddle with her number on it and told to take a seat in the front row. Each seat had a receptacle on the floor for the ball. A male instructor wearing a robe with no hood appeared on a podium and addressed them.

“Good morning sex slaves, welcome to motivation: sexual submission is your life. Please remember to keep your numbers visible. Again let me remind you that not paying attention; that is not knowing the subject if I ask you, will be severely punished as some of you have discovered; Seven-nine what is the punishment?”

“Lashes from the madam or Snakes, master.”

“That is correct: three times is a charm, isn’t it Seven-nine.”

“Yes master, no more snake charming for me!” 

“I like a sex slave with a sense of humor; OK then. Today let me start by touching on your responsibility of totally satisfying all clients… I know…once again. You must keep in mind at all times that a satisfied clientele encourages repeat visits and more clients by word of mouth, adding thereby to the financial well being of the syndicate. You should know that your owners, even while they of course pay you nothing as captive slaves, has a large financial investment in this facility plus your training, the staff necessary to support you, feed you etc. You are all then as a group responsible for satisfying each and every clients totally with your body, mind-set and sexual skills. Therefore you are then indeed to blame if any client does not return or lodge a complaint. In such cases you deserve and will be lashed or spend time in the pit due to the syndicate’s financial loss; not to mention their reputation. Total dedication is therefore vital; every client must leave one hundred percent satisfied.

”The sex act must be so intensely loving and stirring, that he or she will think about nothing else when leaving and be eager to return; to be loved by you, to dominate you, to beat you or whatever turns that client’s crank. You are responsible for offering your body and soul to every client with as many sexual acts he demands or you can encourage him or her to try.

“Nine-two, do you satisfy our clients by acting in a loving and passionate manner?”

“No master I do not act; I satisfy the client by responding to his or her needs with the proper mindset. I truly love every client not only with my body but with all my heart.  

“That is correct, this is not a motivational acting class, this is about total dedication to the only reason you breathe, so why do you exist, nine-one?”

“To submit my body and soul for sexual pleasure to whatever client selects me and of course any staff member when ordered; my life has no other purpose, master.”

“And what do you do for the rest of your day, One-two-two?”

“I prepare for my body and mindset for my evening client or staff member, in this and many other classes.”

“You think of nothing else then.”

“No master, that would be sacrilegious and there is no time, every hour of my night and day is filled with thoughts of or actual sexual intercourse; except of course when the client falls to sleep.” 

“Yes and you hopefully have sweet dreams about submission. Remember the syndicate’s profit margin is…always…your number one priority whether awake or asleep. One-twenty-nine, give me an instance of additional profits for the syndicate?”

“The riding crop, master bruises cost the clients more.”

“That is correct; the riding crop or other implements are profitable since bruises are subject to an escalating fee schedule, adjusted incrementally to the number and severity of those marks. In other words the more bruises recorded in the morning, the higher the client’s final invoice. This can be a two edged sword since many client with that inclination prefer to paint on a clean canvas. We try to recommend slaves being requested for severe physical discipline, who we know are close to their period, giving you four or five days to heal.

“You can be assigned to dungeon service with bruises where clients paying for a one evening session can be given the illusion that the same slaves are being beaten daily for extended periods. Some client will pay handsomely for adding to those bruises and then rape you as a helplessly shackled victim.

You can of course also encourage a client to discipline you near that time of the month by being a naughty girl and then beg for more. Most of you already know that only works with some clients. Other clients will of course beat you harder while you scream and beg him or her to stop. It’s up to you to make those judgments and once again encouraging the client to hurt you…is your responsibility to maximize the syndicate’s profits.

“Twenty-three, give me one method of encouraging the client to beat you harder or longer?”

“Sometimes by not crying out with the first few lashes the client will become frustrated and beat you more or harder until you cry out or scream with pain.”

“That is correct but again every client is different and you must use good judgment.

“So why do we offer your bodies to clients for sexual pleasure? One-eight-six, address the class;” she was shocked to be single out on her first day.

“The syndicate offers our bodies as sex slaves to…to clients to…to make a profit, master?”

“That is correct and what is your responsibility?”

“To…to have sex with the client, any kind and truly love him so he will come back and tell his friends so the syndicate can make even more money.”

“That is correct, Nine-seven can you expand on her statement?”

“I think so master. In my mindset the client is the prince or princess of my dreams.”

“That’s good Nine-seven can anybody add anything to that? Yes One-two-five go ahead.”

“Well master no but I have question. You say we should try to encourage more acts or positions. What if he doesn’t like being told?”

“Good question One-two-five. That is a delicate matter; many men are set in their ways. As a sex slave it’s your duty to submit to any position demanded, that goes without saying. You should however try to sense the client’s needs. As you both move around in the bed or the room, try to encourage groping and kissing by responding breathlessly to his moves even though they might seem strange. Remember some of your male clients have been married for many years and some have only experienced the missionary position. It’s your responsibility to encourage experimentation, different positions and sex acts, especially fellatio to a man like that can be a fantastic turn on. A fantastic turn on, can lead to repeat business and what does that mean, Eight-nine?’

“Profits for people we’ve never seen.”

“Eight-nine is getting slightly cynical this morning but that’s fine. It is actually a good question but  not exactly true; no one outside of the front office knows their identities. Not even our warden and madam. I’m sure however that many of you have sexually satisfied some of your owners. Yes Seven-two?”

“Really master that is exciting I’d love to know when I’m serving someone who actually owns me. I don’t know why but that turns me on. I know the clients theoretically own us for the night but the syndicate owns us permanently. We truly are the property of these people. ”

“Well you never will know but after four years as a sex slave, Seven-two, I’m sure you have probably satisfied one or maybe several of your owners, who knows? It’s a large syndicate and I’m sure they dip into the till. Yes One-six-three?”

“How much do we cost a client, master?”

“Again only the front office knows that. But I can guess that, because of the secret, illegal nature of this operation and the fact that you are actual slaves abducted and brought here unlawfully from around the world, only the very rich can afford any of you. Probable five or ten times the most expensive call-girls.”

“Why would anybody pay that much if they can get a call-girl for less?”

“Think about it. A call girl is a free citizen who can leave anytime, refuse certain acts and haggle for payment. You are all permanently in chains and cannot refuse any sexual act with any client, who actually owns you for the night. The client is in total charge of you, body and soul; there is absolutely nothing you can do to refuse him, short of a severe beating and in such a case definitely the pit. That is a fantastic turn on to many clients even though they don’t know about the pit. They know however that you are true slaves, Yes Seven-eight?”

“I love being owned master and I love to hear you talk about it; it makes me all tingly inside; especially the idea that an actual owner has fucked me.”

“Does anybody else feel like Seven-eight? Let’s see a show of hands; nearly half that is a nice surprise to me; mostly long timers over three years. Six-two, why do you feel that way?”

“Same as Seven-two I think. After two years it’s my life now, I was always a submissive nature. I acted, no rather was, the sub in a sex club; maybe one of the syndicates slavers found me there. I don’t care about being free, I love submission even the pain of being lashed by a client, the madam or slapped around by the warden, though I don’t think I’m a real masochist. I just love my life here and as long as I’m young enough to be desirable, I wouldn’t leave if I could.”

One-eight-six found it hard to believe what she heard from Six-two and Seven-eight; she couldn’t imagine ever feeling that way no matter how long she was here.

“Six-six, what did Seven-two just say?”

“I…I’m sorry master. I’m so tired from last night. No sleep at all master.” The instructor filled out a form on the podium. “Guard, take this slave to the madam’s office for corrective action.” She was led out with tears flowing down her cheeks.

One-eight-six, noticed that not only the girls ass but also her thighs and back were welted with stripes of all colors. She wasn’t much over eighteen; a short buxom blonde with a sculptured body and Scandinavian skin. She wondered if the madam would let her off with a few lashes; since she had earned a large bonus for the syndicate last nights.

She was led to the next class in another large room where about fifty female were on or getting on what appeared to be massage tables. She was brought in to a small office where a guard ordered her to get on similar table and then left her alone after leaving her clipboard in a slot. A mistress and an assistant then entered, the assistant picking up the clipboard handing it to the mistress who studied it and then handed it back.

“One-eight six, I am the mistress in charge of VSM, which stands for vaginal sphincter manipulation training. Spread your thighs.” She sounded very officious, like a city hall bureaucrat. She spread her thighs and the mistress placed one hand on her stomach and penetrated her vagina with a finger asking her to squeeze it. She tried with little success. “Reaction barely ten percent,” she was speaking to her assistant who made a note. For the next five minutes she was probed and ordered to flex her pelvic and other muscles in her lower body and thighs while listening to a lot of medical jargon she did not understand.

“You pelvic floor is weak for a nine-teen year old. You will train here seven days a week in order to bring your contraction pressure and frequency to an acceptable performance level. This is vital due to the client category you are being aimed at. Motivation is essential and by your chart I see you have already had a second tour in the pit. For the first few weeks we require an incremental weekly improvement of eight percent in both pressure and frequency. Six percent will result in a visit to the madam’s office; four percent, snakes and rats for an indeterminate period. My assistant will get you started immediately.” She left the room and the assistant put her hand on her stomach and inserted and held a long soft dildo in her vagina.

“Relax dear and begin to contract at a rate you are comfortable with. That’s it; I can feel it in my hand. Over the next hour the assistant inserted several different devices including one where she had to stand. “There you have nothing to worry about dear I’m sure you will pass with flying colors in seven days.”

“How long does this training last?”

“For as long as you’re a sex slave, as you get older and loose that youthful glow; it becomes even more important. Some client chose sex slaves exclusively by the VSM rating, noted in the dossier with your photo-layout.”

After the class she was led out in the hall way and told to sit, most of the rock tunnels seemed to have benches along on or both walls. There were sex slaves sitting for a far as she could see in the dim light. Tall carts were then rolled along with shelves of food trays. Every slave was handed a tray with her number on it. She looked around and noticed everyone else setting it on their laps and then eating with cutlery. So it was only in the warden’s office where you ate like an animal.

“Surprised honey?” A buxom black female sitting next to her chuckled as she spoke; “you’re new, right out of the Warden’s cave of horrors aren’t you? I’m two-seven.”

“I’m One-eight-six and yes my first day out. You look to young to have been here a lot of years with that number?”

“Barely one, “I’m twenty; they give retired numbers as they become available. I’m British by the way, abducted in Jamaica while on vacation; I probably drowned or was eaten by a shark while scuba diving.” One-eight-six replied with her own allowable information. They ate in silence and then stood up sliding their empty trays into the slots as the cart rolled by.

“Well,” the British female said; “it’s sleepy time.”

She was led to a cell block with two rows of beds; she guessed fifty in the middle of the room. One steel post at the head of each bed held a sign with the slave’s numbers and at the foot end a post held a receptacle for the ball. There was no bedding only a thin mattress. She was led to her number and ordered to place the ball and lie down. The guard then told everyone to rest and think about nothing as the lights were turned down low with elevator music played softly. She fell to sleep and woke to the sound of a soft bell.

They were then ordered to file out in the rock tunnel and led to a large dimly lit room with a thickly carpeted floor. It turned out to a combination of show and tell plus some acting. They were arranged in circles of ten sitting on the floor with their iron balls centered in a neat circle. The guards did not take part at first but circulated listening.

For a while they took turns describing every sexual detail of the previous night; how they had satisfied the client, how many times and if they thought the client had been completely satisfied. Some would get up and show the bruises they had received from the client or the madam from a complaint. Others would then make comments stating what they would have done different or praise for doing something out of the ordinary. One-eight-six was left out since she hadn’t served a client yet.

Next they would playact; each female would pretend that a female across from her was a client and say how much she loved her. One-eight-six thought at first that this was very silly but she soon discovered that constructive criticism from others was very educational. She learned that the volume, tone of voice, facial expression during the statement and especially after, could be infinitely varied; eyes and lips open or close, head cocked or turned slightly, eyelids fluttering. There was no end to it and then every face was of course different and what worked for one did not work for another but mainly a submissive sweet expression was the key.

When her turn came as the last one she actually came off fairly well, with two slaves giving her advice.

Everyone then stood up and posed one at the time way they would do in the evening lineup. She was surprise that there was no bump and grind movement but apparently the object was to display the body to prospective clients front, side and back; hands behind the head most of the time then folded behind the back, down to rub the thighs a bit and back up flipping the breasts lightly in passing; lifting the long hair if that applied, swinging it a bit and then behind the head again. The facial expression had to be distant, not icy cold like a runway model but sweet and fearful. Equally important was breathing, heaving the chest displaying your breasts to the best advantage. She learned later the reason for them posing in a regimented manner was that the syndicate wanted every sex slave displaying their body features and not distracting the client with a dance competition.

At this point two guards came inside the circle, one with a clipboard and the other began to fondle one of the slaves very slowly in a loving sensitive manner, while the other guard watched the expression on her face. The next female was treated roughly; the guard clawed her tits, slapped her ass and then rammed her hand into her crotch. The slave responded by shaking, breathing rapidly with a fearful expression. The third slave was made to flex her biceps while the guard felt them and then forced her mouth open checking her teeth, her ears and then made her bend over showing her crotch while she poked a finger into her vagina.

One-eight-six now understood that they were practicing to deal with different client personalities while the guard rated their response. Sometimes she would start over, telling the slave this or that was wrong. When she got to her the guard crossed her arms and just stared at her scanning her body with a superior expression. Not knowing what to do she turned her head closing her eyes acting like she was really scared and tried to tremble. The guard slapped her face and pointed at her own eyes. She made eye contact again and the guard nodded and moved to the next slave. She drew a deep breath in relief; maybe she would be good at this?

She walked back to her cell block and ordered to sit on the bed. They were then told that this was free time and they were allowed to talk quietly with their neighbors.

“I am One-eight-six,” she said to her neighbor and held out her hand.

“You new here, we’re not allowed to touch; I’m Seven-nine. I’ve been here more than three years; born in the Ukraine, lured to France with the promise of a job and forced into prostitution. My pimp must have sold me to an agent who drugged me and brought me here.

“Thanks for the warning; I was born in the US and abducted in Las Vegas. I’ve just been five days in the Wardens office.”

“Oh yes, five nights with the beast. “And you got used to him and didn’t show disgust anymore with his ugliness.”

“Well I did get use to it sort of, yes.”

”That’s when you get the booth.”

“What do you mean?”

“He thrives on disgust in his slaves. Once he doesn’t sense that anymore you’re in the lineup. We’ve all been there,” she smiled, “whenever we make a mistake and have been punished by the madam we spend a day or night of makeup sex with the prince of darkness. So you seen the worst, I’ve never seen a client that ugly. Most of them are fairly handsome, you know old but distinguished; that goes with being successful I guess.”

“That sweet little Asian seems to loves him madly.”

“Ah yes but what you don’t notice is that she’s always trembling and her eyes show fear when he touches her. He buggered her a few week ago lying on top of me while I embraced and kissed her. She trembles like a leaf but you have to touch her to know it. He sends her out most days because her skills and innocent looks in the photo spread makes her a real money maker but he sometimes brings her back at least during the day. He also sends her for very special repeat clients in private rooms, who are willing to pay a premium. They dress her up usually in a school girl’s uniform, ribbons in the hair with two little pig tails and you know a cute white blouse and tie, a short plaid skirt, white socks and flat shoes.

“Most of the time it’s a rape session, sometimes with an older Asian slave playing the poor mother selling her for cash or playing the outraged mother while her daughter is raped or gang raped. She plays the horrified sweet innocent young girl just perfectly. I think she’s one of the biggest money makers they have.  I’ve been at one such gang rape session with her with me being use as a mattress. A lot of men like that when fucking a petite female. You will probably also be used that way with your body”

“I already have with her in the warden’s bedroom.”

“How much time did you spend in the pit?”

“I think nine days initially and then five more with the rats after I talked back to the madam while she read me my lack of rights.”

“Some right we have, I bet you won’t do that again; I was there 10 days the second time for refusing lesbian sex.”

“You don’t have a problem with that now?”

“I’ll fuck anything with a pulse and may even without, before I’d go back down there.”

“I’m naturally bisexual; you still have a sense of humor after three years.”

“After a while it becomes your home, they keep you so busy with training and meditation, you don’t have time to think of much else. Everything is done for you, they wash you, do your hair, shave your legs, put on your makeup, you can’t even wipe your own ass and then they lick it. I mean that’s better than royalty.

“Yes but we don’t get paid.”

“Very funny, yes we’re humanitarians giving it away; we spread our thigh and the syndicate makes a fortune.”

“Why don’t they shave my pubes I’m not used to that?”

“Again we are here to fuck older men and they don’t like bald pussies; it’s a turnoff they say. Shaving down there came about with the thong; that was long after their time.

“Why did you go back to the warden’s office if you been here two years.”

“If there is a slight problem in the clients report, he’ll fuck you himself to check your performance level and you better be good unless the pit entices you. I think he also has some kind of rotation schedule to keep us sharp, so we all take turns in his beastly arms. You know yourself he fucks five or ten different slaves every day. So that’s about two hundred and fifty in a month. That’s about right I seem to end up there every six to eight weeks.”

“You don’t seem to be depressed with your life here as a sex slave. Don’t you miss being free?”

“You’ll soon realize that there’s no time for that. Twice a day we get half an hour to gap like this. Other than that, you exercise, go to classes, eat and sleep; then they tell you who to fuck; you don’t have to bother with the dating circuit or worry about finding the right partner; you never get to decide anything. I think we would be totally lost on the outside.”

“But…but you don’t get good looking young guys just old men.”

“They’re all good looking in your mind even the Warden; you must have used that trick already.”

“Well what I had in my mind when kissing him, it was him or the pit and the rats.”

“That is one way; you’ll get a few lookers in their forties, maybe even thirties but with your size most of your clients will be like mine; usually shorter that me I’m five foot-seven. Mostly Orientals they’re nuts about big white woman, they can be harsh and are usually not lovers; you do it obedientlyor else and it’s usually over quickly; unless they’re really old, then it can take forever but it’ll be usually only one act. You can go to sleep until the guard picks you up.

“So you and I will never have sex.”

“There are party rooms where client have dinner parties with friends and some of us are brought in to entertain. Usually dressed up as French maids with no panties and exposed tits; being groped when serving food and drinks. Others are used as live statues in bondage, some are chained to walls or columns and the guest will use us any way they see fit. A common form of entertainment is watching lesbian lovemaking or cat fights, that’s mostly for male parties but some women like to watch that too.”

“Have you been in catfights?”

“Look at me I’m a bear, many, many times and it always ends up as lesbian orgies in some way. You know the loser being force to eat out the winner; that‘s what men like to see, and then of course after that you get fucked or sometime gang banged, another male fantasy?”

They were interrupted by the gong and told to lie down with their eyes closed. The guard then spoke to them.

“We will focus now on the reason you exist. In two to three hours depending on your assignment, you will perform the only task sex slaves exist for. Sex, sex, sex, there’s no other purpose to your lives. You submit, you submit, you submit.

“Until then your mind will be focused with a few breaks on nothing else. Nothing can enter your mind except the intoxicating feeling of totally sexually satisfying the client who will choose you out of the line-up or has picked you out of the register for private parties, dungeon bondage, rape sessions etc.

“Concentrate now on your client and caress your breasts lightly One-eight-six heard a low moan from her cell mates. She moaned along with them feeling her breasts. ”Circle both areolas with your fingers, his lips are near. Finger the nipples…now grasp your breasts, squeeze them gently repeatedly presenting your nipples. Feel your client kissing one…then the other. The moisture makes it wet and cold.” There were collective gasp and then the moaning got passionate and louder; as they continued for ten minutes to present their nipples to imaginary client’s lips.

“Now, whisper the name of the body part where you now feel a strong craving;” fifty pairs of lips whispered: my vagina. “What is the purpose of your vagina,” The words ‘client’s penis’ whispered through the cellblock. “What will the client experience from your vagina?”’ Fifty slaves whispered: pleasure, with a deep passion as their breathing became labored.

“What is your anus for?” Again fifty pairs of lips whispered my client’s penis. “Feel it I your anus.” She clenched her cheeks

“What are your lips for?” Once again, my client’s penis “Feel it in your mouth.” she opened her mouth wide and pretended she was sucking on a penis.

“Move your hands slowly down your body dig your fingers into the thigh creases, thumbs touching above the vulva while spreading your thighs slightly you will now perform and recite the vaginal pledge.

“Open your thighs wider, inhaled deeply and raise your pelvis, the orifice is relaxed. As you exhale clench the orifice pinscher, lower your pelvis and close your thighs slightly. What did you close your thighs on?” A hoarsely throated: ‘my client’ filled the room. “What do you feel in your vagina?” Fifty pairs of lips whispered breathlessly: ‘ooooh my client’s penis.’ Repeat the vaginal wow until ordered to stop.

One-eight-six opened her thighs, inhaled deeply, and raised her pelvis relaxing her orifice. She then tried to clench her orifice while lowering her pelvis and closing her thighs slightly, whispered ‘my client and then, ‘ooooh my clients penis’, along with her cellmates. They repeated the exercise over and over again maybe for an hour.

The feeling in her crotch became increasingly real. As she relaxes and inhaled, raising her pelvis, meeting and welcoming an imaginary penis entering her vagina, her orifice then squeezed it as she lowered her pelvis closing her thighs on his body while whispering the words with an ever increasing mesmerizing passion becoming feverishly more intense with every repetition.

.

She gasped in disappointment along with her cell mates when the gong rang three times ending the session. A spasm flashed though her body as she desperately squeezed her thighs and vagina on nothing. The illusion was gone but her body ached for more.

The gong rang again after a few minutes and the guard ordered the entire cell block, except for some females in red shorts to enter the cleansing room. They were hosed standing close together ten at the time. Some got caps and others had their hair washed and then moved into the fan room. Next the hair salon with more than twenty chairs; staffed mostly by slaves in red short, setting hair, shaving legs, armpits and then makeup.

Back in the cell block they were fed. Every slave was on her own diet determined by a dietician. There could be no food left on the tray and sharing or trading food was strictly forbidden. After the trays were removed the guard ordered the breasts routine and then the vaginal promise for about ten minutes. They were then ordered to lie down and just focus for a time while elevator music played over the speakers until the gong rang and the guard addressed again.

“Within a short time you will be at the mercy of client who has paid a high price to the syndicate for the temporary ownership of your body. The reason for that price is that this is the only place on the planet where true slavery exists. The reason I say, at the client’s mercy should obvious. He can beat you, fuck you, and beat you, again and again, because for about ten hours you’re his property like any store bought article.

“Technically the client can’t actually rape you, rape implies an illegal act and since you’re not protected by law, the client is free to abuse you in any way he or she sees fit. There is only one difference between you and historical slaves is; he can’t kill you and is not allowed by the terms of the lease to draw blood. Remember as a slave you’re nothing to him but a triple receptacle for his cock. Despite that you will love him madly as he uses one or all of those receptacles during the night to satisfy his lust.

“Focuses on that thought now, tell yourself that tonight’s client is your legal owner holding you deed for the night and there’s absolutely no way to resist or deny him. Think about that for the next ten minutes; concentrate hard.”

Ten minutes passed by quickly for One-eight–six even with the treatment she’d received from the Madam and the Warden or because of it, she suddenly realized how hopelessly helpless she was. She had to love all clients madly whatever they did to her and she knew she would. The alternative was a night with a monster warden and or the snake pit.

“Now think about your client again. You do not want to resist abuse. You can’t resist; you do not have the right to resist. You will love your client no matter what he or she does to you or whatever act he or she demands because you want to submit; you need to submit completely or you life has no meaning. What is your life about?”

“Total sexual submission,” every voice except One-eight-six whispered in unison. “Repeat that until ordered to stop.” One-eight-six chimed in, repeating the whispered chant with her cell mates over and over again. She had no idea how much time had gone by when the gong sounded three times. No one moved or spoke, she felt as if she’d been hypnotized and kept her eyes closed while total sexual submission resonated through her mind.

“One-eight-six keep you eyes closed and tell us how do you feel?” She was shocked to be singled out again.

“I…I feel very strange like I’m in a different world.”

“You are…in a different world slave, in less than two hours a very wealthy citizen will chose your body to pleasure him or her. It is his or her world, therefore being a sex slave object it can’t be your world. Many of very rich believe that their money give them the right to control the lower classes. They dislike democracy and come here to vent their frustration by using your body in any way they chose.

These people can easily afford whores or mistresses or toy boys, for a lot less but they’re free to spend what is given to them and can leave if they want. Whores also sometimes demand more money for special sex, like blowjobs but beatings are out of the question.

You…on the other hand, is an object to be used by a client for any sexual or violent act This is not a magic illusion or fairytale; you’re not an actor or stunt double in a theatre or movie. This is real, you will submit with no thoughts in your mind. You’ll only obey. Only obey. Only obey.

“Now sit up slaves in the lotus position and slowly open your eyes. You are seeing nothing; because there is nothing in your world until you are selected and enter a client’s room. Then in your mind there’s only love, love, love.

When your number is called, called, called; you the sex slave, a mindless totally submissive object will stand and pick up your ball.

She opened her eyes breathing deeply but saw nothing, nothing, nothing.

To be continued

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