Chapter 2

Interview Deep in Depth

I TOOK JUDY to her apartment and went home to jack off to the image of her butt in my head. When I woke up, I was still imagining myself sprawled between her legs. I fixed myself a cup of coffee and thought about how much better my simple drip coffee was than the espresso Judy served at Bikini Baristas. That’s something that she’d need to improve.

I had to wonder if I was serious. I wasn’t a rich man. Good income, but not the kind of wealth I figured it took to own a sex slave. I started thinking of how much she could cost and resolved to tell her it wouldn’t work when I went to see her this morning. Yes, I’d already determined I would be heading to Bikini Baristas as soon as I was sure she was there. I was sitting in the car at ten till ten and forced myself to wait until a quarter after before I drove over to see her. I was looking forward seeing that butt again. The transparent one-piece had kept my attention on her all through our glass of wine the previous day.

What was I thinking? Of course she wouldn’t wear the same outfit, such as it was, two days in a row! No. This time she was, indeed, in a bikini—made of loose knit. In fact, it was more like she cut a fishing net into shape and tied it around her boobs and between her legs. Yesterday, I’d seen her clearly but through a dark lens. Today, one nipple stuck right out through a gap in the knit. I really needed to get my hands on that. And my mouth.

“Good morning, Master,” she greeted me. “Hot, strong, and black?”

“Yes, Judy. You look yummy today.” I heard a snort from just beyond where I could see into the little kiosk.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Do you have company?”

“I’m sorry, Master. Marcella insisted on staying until she could verify you were real. Marcella, get up here and meet my master.” A tall dark woman with abundant boobs peeking out of her loose bikini top slipped up behind Judy. I thought she must have deliberately arranged the top to look like an accidental nip slip. The more accidental it looked, the more I was certain it was intentional.

“Why is it no one ever came to my shift and asked to buy me?” she said, looking at me. “I look far more like a slave than she does.”

“Which is probably why no one would dare suggest it to you,” I answered. “Are you satisfied I’m for real?”

“I see you, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying about Judy. You’re not a serial killer or anything, are you?”

“Even if I was, I would still tell you ‘no.’ You need to sharpen your investigative skills. Maybe start by asking if I prefer eating breasts or thighs.”

“Judy already told me she figured her tail was going to be dinner one night soon. I was just hoping she was not being literal.”

“Move aside, Marcie. You’re interfering with me serving my customer and master,” Judy said. Having Marcella there made it awkward to tell Judy it was no deal. I did the next best thing in my addled mind while looking at four pronounced nipples in front of me.

“Don’t cover that top when I pick you up at four,” I directed.

“Of course, Master,” Judy said. I handed her a ten and a five as a tip. Marcella waggled her tits and I handed her a five, too. Well, that was lunch for me. I did think about chewing on those nipples. The driver behind me was beginning to look impatient so I left the espresso stand.

I didn’t have a big selection of places I could take a girl who was basically topless. I spent some time driving around just looking for an inspiration. The river front looked like a good option. It was undergoing a revival restoration and the old factories and warehouses were gradually being converted to a shopping mall and restaurants. We could stop for a malt and walk on the boardwalk. That would work.

Somehow, after seeing her in that mesh bikini, all thought of telling Judy it wouldn’t work got infinitely delayed. Instead, I started thinking about making the most of this week before I had to hit the road again. I went home and fired up a graphics package on my computer, quickly designing my own version of a CAP card. (Capacity, Aptitude, and Potential—from the Swarm Cycle.) I gave myself a respectable 6.8 and Judy a 5.3. On the back of the card I printed a lot of information I didn’t really know in very small print. It included all the categories I could remember from my reading of the Swarm stories, like integrity, loyalty, sex, aggression, motherhood, and submissiveness/dominance. Of course, once I’d created all that mythical information for Judy, I had to do the same for myself. I wished someone who actually knew the stories could review it, but I was just creating something to get our conversations started.

I pulled up to the back of the kiosk at four-o-one. Judy bounced out of the door, waving behind her. A big-titted blonde came to the door behind her and waved. I’m not sure, but I think she was taking down my license number. I was more interested in the up-close look at Judy’s boobs. Even nicer than I remembered with their nipples sticking through the mesh.

“I hope your tips reflected the quality of your tits today,” I joked.

“Yeah. I made a bundle. A lot better than if I was working at TGI Friday’s.”

“It’s a family place. Yours would only be appropriate there if you were feeding your own family.”

“You mean a baby?”

“You wouldn’t even need to lift that top up to feed her.”

“I’m going to soak through my shorts,” she sighed.

“I can imagine that bikini bottom isn’t very absorbent.”

“I took it off,” she said. I snapped my eyes over to her. Don’t know what I expected to see. “They aren’t really very comfortable. Especially under other clothes.” She reached in her bag and pulled the mesh bottoms out of it to dangle next to me. I took them from her and lifted them to my nose.

“Mmm. Definitely want to smell more of that,” I said. “Did you get a chance to read any of the stories?”

“Oh, yeah. Both of them and a couple others, too.”

“What do you think?”

“So, basically, my responsibility is to be a good wife.”

“Wife?”

“Sure. It pretty well describes the role of a woman a century and a half ago. Be a domestic goddess and see to every need of my man. Cooking and cleaning don’t really bother me, you know? I’d probably get used to a baby hanging off my tits. Are you ever going to check them out? Up close and personal?”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you until we both understand it’s for real. There will be a test drive, though.” I knew the stories she had read put plenty of emphasis on the master testing the slave sexually before a commitment was made. I was looking forward to that phase.

“I should ask you if you are sponsor grade, first. Mister sir, do you have a qualifying CAP score?” I reached in my shirt pocket and pulled out the card I’d printed. She grinned as she saw the big 6.8 score and then started to study the card, squinting at the fine print. “I didn’t do that well. It’s above average, but not good enough to sponsor.” I handed her the card I printed for her and she wiggled in her seat when she saw my assessment closely resembled her own.

“Here we are. We’re going to take a walk on the boardwalk after we get a bit of ice cream. We need to talk about some serious matters.”

“That sounds ominous. You still want me, don’t you?”

“That’s not at issue.” We stepped up to the ice cream stand and the soda jerk’s eyes about popped out of his head looking at Judy’s display. “I’ll have a chocolate malt and she’ll have strawberry ice cream in a waffle cone.” I didn’t give her a chance to choose but chose the flavor at random off the menu card. She took it with a big grin. “We don’t actually have a few of the things the denizens of the Confederacy have. We don’t have replicators and med tubes. All our needs aren’t paid for by Big Brother or whomever. We need to talk about the costs involved.”

“I’m not very high maintenance. I don’t even need to wear clothes if you don’t want me to.”

“I’m sure I’ll want you naked most of the time. But there are other costs of owning a slave. What kind of health insurance do you have?” I asked. She tilted her head to catch a drip of ice cream while she considered the question.

“It’s pretty good. I joined a cooperative kind of thing when I got out of school because I didn’t like just showing up at a clinic and getting prodded by a different doctor every time. It’s pretty reasonably priced at just over $500 a month.”

“Okay. That’s $500. What about medications?”

“I’m only on birth control. And from what you’ve said, I won’t need that for long. $10 a month co-pay.”