Chapter 12: Enslaved Professionals

One day, at the "facility", my trainer said the words I had been waiting to hear. These were words I feared, but also words that meant the end of the endless repetition of exercises designed to prepare me for my future.

"Stephanie, your new life is about to begin."

I remembered clearly that I had once been proud, that I had once possessed freedom and dignity. I had been able to choose what college to attend, what profession to prepare for, what employment offer to accept, what men I would date, with whom I would have sex. All these things were a distant memory now. Since the jury verdict at my trial I had been stripped of all that even as I was stripped of my clothing. They told me it would "only" be for ten years! Then I would be restored to my freedom. So they said.

I had been trained at the Richmond Slendabond facility to obey orders from anyone placed in a position of authority over me. While I still had a will to disobey any ability to disobey had been systematically trained out of me. Escape was impossible due to some device they had implanted in my neck. I had no standing to appeal to any court concerning my status as a slave. Disobedience was pointless since, if I were slow to obey, they would just take over my body in some mysterious way and cause my body to do what they had commanded independent of my will. If they wanted me to suck a penis I would suck a penis whether I did it of my own volition or my body just did it against my will. It wasn't for me to know how they did these things to me.

When they spoke of my "new life", all I knew for sure was that it would somehow involve me working at my profession as an accountant. I could not even imagine what it would be like to apply my professional knowledge and skills under conditions of slavery. Would I be able to speak freely my professional opinion about how best to carry out the tasks assigned to me? Probably not. Could I refuse an assignment if I found it morally repulsive? Almost certainly not. Would I be forced to have sex with my business superiors and their clients? Does the sun rise in the morning?

The day for me to leave the 'facility' finally came. I was brought down to the loading dock where I waited, my hands securely cuffed behind my back. They could have controlled me quite easily without the cuffs, so I supposed that was done mostly to impress upon my mind that I was no longer a free girl. They had dressed me in low-rise blue jeans that fitted me like a glove, leaving little of my lower form to the imagination. Much of my midriff was bared by the low cut of these jeans together with an abbreviated and tight fitting t-shirt they put on me. The contours of my firm breasts were visible through this t-shirt as were my nipples. When I used to dress like this in college guys would often tent their slacks.

Shortly two more young people were escorted to the loading dock, similarly cuffed. I soon realized that these two were people I had known during my physical training in the gym. There was Jennifer Maisten, the blonde ballerina from the National Ballet of Capitallia. She was nearly as slender as I and had been similarly dressed in low-rise jeans and midriff baring t-shirt. The jeans revealed her highly muscled legs while the t-shirt revealed how thin and fragile her upper body was. Her breasts and nipples could also be quite clearly seen through the translucent t-shirt. The other one to join us was Harold, the lawyer, clad in tight fitting jeans and a tight t-shirt that showed his biceps, shoulders and bared six-pack abdomen. An impressive bulge could also be seen in his jeans at the juncture of his muscular thighs.

Soon an extended body SUV pulled up and two smartly uniformed female security guards got out and approached us. They wore badges, stun guns in holsters and their uniforms proclaimed them to be working for Richmond SlendaBond. They announced that we would all be going to our new owners. We all nervously eyed the controller devices on the wrists of each of these guards. We knew only to well that either guard could render any of us unconscious at the touch of a button. They opened a back door of the SUV and we were escorted in to a carpeted and upholstered space where there were two long padded benches, one on each sidewall. As each of us took a position on one of the benches a guard shackled our feet and one wrist to convenient eyebolts attached to the wall and floor of the truck, then belted each of us in with seat and shoulder belts.

There were no side windows so we would not be able to see where we were going, though there was a long ceiling window that admitted plenty of light. This space was evidently designed for carrying human cargo and was completely walled off from the cab up front where the guards would ride. I noticed a video camera that would enable the guards to keep an eye on us. We were all dying to ask one of the guards where we were being taken but no one did. We had all been voice trained. One of the female guards announced that we had permission to speak freely during the trip but only to our fellow slaves. The rear doors were closed and locked and the SUV began to move.

The trip took about two hours. I suspected we had been heading toward New York City, and this was confirmed when I heard one of the guards announce our first stop.

"This is your stop, Jennifer. We are at the stage entrance to the Montmarcy Theatre, home of the National Ballet of Capitallia. You will be one of a growing number of professional dancers who will work at your craft while enslaved. Enjoy."

"This is wrong", Jennifer muttered under her breath, "they can't make me dance for them if I am not free!"

Jennifer was unshackled from the bench and escorted out of the SUV where a uniformed male guard from the ballet company came out to meet our guards. I heard some conversation about Jennifer and then the ballet company guard was talking with someone on his cell phone. He then announced that Jennifer was not expected here until evening rehearsal. Our guards indicated that Jennifer would be escorted on to her day job and returned to the theatre in time for the evening activities. So that was how it was going to work, I thought. None of us would have any say about who used us or when or how.

The SUV began moving again and after about 15 minutes we sensed the vehicle going down a ramp into an underground parking garage under some office building. When we came to a stop we were all unloaded. Another SUV had pulled in to the parking spot next to ours. On the side of this one was written "Maxim's Slaves" and "We Specialize in Full Figured Types". A man of perhaps 40 years with a rather portly pear shaped physique and a slave collar around his neck was being led out of this vehicle. If he was Maxim's typical product I thought, rather irreverently, then they might as well rename their business "Porkers-R-Us". Evidently his future owner would be valuing him more for his mind than for his body. They had given him baggy jeans and a baggy shirt to wear. This was the man we would later know as Edgar, the economist and statistician. After he disembarked there was also a woman getting out of that SUV who could accurately be described as "full figured" but certainly not obese. Our respective guards then herded all of us from both vehicles into an elevator.

When the elevator stopped I was amazed at the sight before us. It was a very large gymnasium that was currently being used as some kind of processing center for physical exams. There were lines of naked people everywhere queuing up to stations where doctors and nurses were examining them. A pair of orderlies in white coats met us. Our SlendaBond guards announced that the clothing we were wearing belonged to SlendaBond and must be returned. Maxim's guards said the same to the portly man and the full figured woman. We were all instructed to undress. I did not feel comfortable doing this in such a large space where so many people could observe us, but I knew better than to disobey or even to hesitate. In no time we were all naked. Then the orderlies cuffed our hands behind our backs so that we could not even protect our modesty. I thought this gymnasium looked vaguely familiar.

We were guided into the first of several lines. I noticed from their collars that some of the people in the line were slaves like us. There were other naked people in line, however, who did not have slave collars but had, instead, those non-citizen wristbands. When we reached the table a nurse checked our blood pressures, listened to our hearts, drew blood samples, and had us produce a urine specimen. There was no privacy here. We had to produce a specimen in full few of several hundred people. If you couldn't produce one, they had an electric probe that would make you urinate.

As I was leaving the first table and getting into the second line I looked up. There was a kind of balcony or mezzanine overlooking the gym and there were fully dressed people up there looking down at all of us in our nakedness. Suddenly I knew where I was. I looked more closely at the people up there and I spotted my former co-workers June and Lacy. They were looking directly at me and smirking. They had just seen me forced to urinate into a cup. I had once stood up there on that balcony looking at the naked non-citizens on my first day on a new job. This was the facility of my former employer, Masterson Automotive!

There were several more lines to go through and more indignities. At last Harold, Jennifer and I and the "fat guy", as I then thought of him, had completed the processing and were waiting in one corner of the gym for further developments. We did not have long to wait. A guard wearing a company uniform came over to us. Steel collars were placed about our necks and locked shut with some sort of special tool. The collars bore the inscription "Property of Masterson Automotive" and each had multiple attachment rings to which a leash might be attached. June and Lacy came down to collect us. I noticed the two of them were really looking over Harold's naked body, his six-pack abdomen, his most impressive low hanging balls and his thick uncircumcised penis. I had seen Harold naked before at the training facility but he was a novelty to my former coworkers. Our fat fellow traveler stood by self-consciously with his pear shaped obesity, his love handles his rather small penis and a tight scrotum that had not fully descended. I felt sorry for the guy.

Lacy and June attached leashes to each of our collars and took the four of us, still naked, up the elevator to the floor where I had worked when I was still employed by Masterson Automotive. I was most unwilling to step off the elevator but I had no choice. I thought I would die to be seen naked and collared by all my former coworkers and by my former bosses. All four of us would have covered our genitals if we could, but of course we all still had our hands cuffed behind us. I felt a warm flush on my face and breasts and that my nipples were getting stiff. I told myself that it was because I was cold but the truth was I was feeling some degree of sexual arousal being paraded naked before everyone I had known at this company before I was fired.

My two former coworkers escorted us all down a well-remembered long corridor, plushly carpeted and with tasteful artwork, to an office that was all too familiar. There was that same spectacular view of the New York City skyline that I remembered from the day I had first come here for a job interview. There was Jeff Duncan, Human Resources Director, seated behind his elegant desk, speaking for a moment to someone on the phone. We all stood and waited. He acted as though it were the most natural thing in the world that there should be four naked and collared slaves standing in his office and waiting on his pleasure. After what seemed an eternity he finished his call, motioned to Lacy and June that they should disconnect our leashes and leave. He did not invite us to sit and he made no move to unlock our handcuffs. Evidently he wanted to make a point that none of us were free.

"Well, my most exquisite 'human resources' have arrived at last!" he said expansively. As a "Human Resources Director" I have long aspired to have the kind of human resources which you four represent!"

"Stephanie, Jennifer and Harold, meet Edgar who comes to us from an academic background in economics. You are probably wondering why you are here and what sort of work we have in mind for you?" he continued. "You all have permission to speak freely."

"Yes sir, we all did wonder that" Harold replied.

"Well you slaves should all know that Stephanie was with us as a well paid employee up until two years ago. Now she will be here again under rather different terms. It seems she got a bit uppity with Tom Jenkins, one of our department managers. Nearly all our female employees are smart enough to know that if a department manager wants to fondle their legs, they are obliged to submit to this. But not our Stephanie. Oh no! She was too full of herself for that."

"She even went so far", Duncan continued, "as to file a sexual harassment claim against Tom. Naturally I filed that in my circular file. We don't keep our female employees in line by investigating sex harassment cases. The general feeling of management here is that harassing the female employees is a perk that goes with any management job."

I felt the anger rising in me. My heart started beating faster and the muscles of my arms, shoulders, neck and upper back all began to tense. Duncan seemed to notice this and said something to me that didn't make any sense — something about "green moon", then "forget fourteen". For some strange reason I began to relax after he said that, and a short time later I couldn't even remember what I had been angry about. But I glanced at Jennifer and the two men and saw they were all still tense. That puzzled me.

"But lets get Tom in on this discussion" Duncan continued. "After all the four of you will be working for him now. And I assure you that, since you are all slaves now, Tom will be able to fondle much more than just legs. He is bi-sexual and may find interest in all parts of all your bodies!"

In my newly relaxed state it did not seem odd that a manager would have such access to my body or the bodies of the others who reported to him.

Duncan made a call. Tom Jenkins soon entered the room and took a seat. He openly stared at my naked body, at my firm breasts, my erect nipples and most particularly at my crotch which, still being handcuffed, I was powerless to cover. I was embarrassed of course, yet it did not seem wrong that the man who would be my superior would take such interest in my body. It was his prerogative after all. Duncan had said so. Yet this man Jenkins seemed vaguely familiar to me. I felt that I had known him in a past life that was now beyond recall.

"We have a project in mind", Duncan continued, "on which the four of you can collaborate. The New York State legislature has recently passed a new Apprenticeship Law. There was a widespread belief in our society that too much idleness has a corrosive effect on our youth. Teenagers have way too much time on their hands and this often leads to juvenile delinquency and the use of dangerous recreational drugs. It also often leads to young people entering the labor market with poor work habits or no work habits at all."

I found myself in general agreement with these points. I had long thought much the same myself.

"By contrast" Duncan continued, "in the early history of the United States most teenagers were either doing chores on the family farm, helping their families run small businesses, or were learning a trade after being bound as an apprentice to a master in that trade. It was not uncommon for a young boy to be indentured by his parents to a master printer, bookbinder, candle maker, blacksmith or any of dozens of other trades. The boy would be under contract to the master for a term of years at a very low wage, or perhaps for board and room only. In return the master would teach the boy a trade so that when the apprenticeship was up the boy, now a man, would be qualified as a journeyman in that trade and would have a marketable skill which he could freely offer to any employer. It was a good system. Many a boy got an education his parents could not have afforded to buy for him and learned to earn his livelihood in this way and eventually became a master in his own right."

Harold, our attorney colleague, raised his hand and was recognized to speak.

"Are you saying that the project we will be working on has something to do with this new law?"

"Yes, Harold" Duncan replied. "You see Masterson Automotive wants to be a pioneer in taking full advantage of the new Apprenticeship Law. The new law allows boys and girls to be apprenticed under indenture from the age of 12 up through the age of 19. Contracts are initially written to go from age 12 to age 16, with an option for the

apprentice, having reached the age of majority, to extend the apprenticeship to age 19 if both parties agree."

"Would the child be free to quit the apprenticeship at any time?" Harold asked.

"Not at all" Duncan replied. "You see the employer makes quite an investment in providing a child with a useful education and is entitled to something in return. He is entitled to have full control of that child during the agreed contract term, so as to be able to fully exploit the labor of his pupil to his own advantage."

"So there could be all kinds of abuses, just as there were with the historical system of apprenticeship!" Harold exclaimed.

"Well not quite." Duncan responded. "Our new law is called "The Kinder and Gentler Apprenticeship Law". It implicitly recognizes that apprenticeship does create a kind of slavery for the young pupils, and so they need all the same kinds of protections that we afford to adult slaves under the Kinder and Gentler Slavery Law. For example no corporal punishment may be used, the hours of work are limited to 20 hours a week so that the child may attend regular school classes, the best medical and dental care must be provided, good nutrition, opportunity for the child to exercise, and a small trust fund setup that will be under the child's control when he or she becomes an adult."

"What about sex?" Jennifer asked. "Are the children ever used sexually by their masters or mistresses during the apprenticeships?"

"The new law absolutely bars any sexual contact between master and apprentice while the apprentice is below the age of consent. In New York the age of consent is 16. So the question of sex would only arise if the apprentice freely agreed to extend the apprenticeship for an additional 2 or 3 years after reaching age 16. Such extension would give the master free reign, sexually speaking."

"But if a child doesn't agree to extend his or her apprenticeship after reaching age 16, then would that child would have to enter the labor market at that point?" Jennifer persisted.

"True" Duncan replied, "but a 16 year old boy or girl entering the labor market with at least a basic apprenticeship training accomplished would command a much better wage than if he or she had to enter the labor market at age 12 with no such training."

"Nevertheless" Jennifer continued, "there would be quite a bit of pressure on the 16 year olds to sign off on the sexual consent business to get the benefit of the extended apprenticeship training!"

"I won't work on a project where 16 and 17 year old boys and girls can be forced to have sex with their teachers!" Harold declared.

"I feel the same way. I won't do it either!" Edgar said.

"No fucking way anybody is going to make me do work like that!" Jennifer expostulated.

"Your freedom of speech can be taken away, Jennifer, if you abuse it! Do not forget who and what you now are, Jennifer, Stephanie, Harold and Edgar. As slaves you don't have any choice about what projects you work on any more than you have a choice of your sexual partners!" Duncan exclaimed as he pounded his fist on the desk.

I could see the muscles in the backs and shoulders of the other three tightening up and their faces turning red with anger. I remained strangely relaxed about the whole thing. But of course Duncan was right. None of us had any choice about anything anymore. We could be commanded to do anything and we must obey!

"Keep in mind", Duncan continued in a more conciliatory voice, "that in Capitallia there is no system of publicly funded education beyond sixth grade. Even the K-6 program will eventually be eliminated as other ways are found for private financing of education. Children of poor families have, until the recent legislation, often found it necessary to enter menial jobs immediately after completing sixth grade. Now there is a way for such children to continue their educations and prepare for much higher paying occupations — all without being a drain on the taxpayers."

"When you put it that way it sounds like we will be helping these children" Harold remarked.

It sounded like child prostitution to me, but obviously my opinion would not matter in the least. Duncan would only respond that 16-year-old youths were hardly children anymore and that, in any case, they were not being asked to turn tricks.

"Another point to consider is that all apprenticeships are entered into initially as a contract between a child's parents or guardian and an individual teacher and practitioner of the skill the parents want that child to learn. Children are never apprenticed to impersonal corporations or passed around from person to person. The individual practitioner may well be working as a highly paid professional employee of a corporation when the apprenticeship begins, but if that individual moves to a different corporation, or goes into private practice, his or her apprentice moves with him. A special, and very personal relationship exists between teacher and student that is often consummated sexually when the student has reached an age of suitable discretion and consents to do so. Not every apprenticeship will work this way, but many do."