Chapter 17: Three Unusual Meetings

I was told that my team would be making a presentation to Masterson's Board of Directors in two weeks concerning our research into the apprentice system. I was directed to make a study of the published literature regarding the economics of apprentice systems and correlate that theoretical knowledge with my own first hand observations from viewing the apprentice recruiting process.

I asked if I might be issued panties to protect my modesty from passersby as I worked in my glass cubicle. Jenkins said 'no way' but he did set a parameter in the computer program so that I could keep my legs together most of the time. I just had to learn to ignore the stares as I worked. Passersby who wished to do so could still open by legs by touching a button that operated a servomechanism. Quite a few availed themselves of this privilege.

I spent a very intense week gathering all this information as well as actual cost data from our accounting department relating to our costs with the present labor system in the circuit board assembly room that we had seen earlier. I made certain projections about how much money I thought the company could save using the apprentice model and prepared graphs to make all this quite visual for the upcoming board meeting.

While much of my research was computer based, quite a bit of it required me to make phone calls. Here I learned that I must operate under a tight set of restrictions. I could not manually dial a phone number, but had to choose from a list of pre-screened numbers that displayed on my computer screen, which could then be auto-dialed. This list of approved numbers did not include any news media, attorneys, or organizations concerned with human rights. It did include the bureau of labor statistics, local reference librarians, and economic think tanks. My employer clearly wanted me to have the tools I needed to do professional work but did not want me campaigning to attract any sort of unwanted attention to my plight as a slave.

But it went further than that. Whenever I would auto-dial an approved phone number, the recipient of that phone call would see a brief message alerting them to the fact that the caller was a slave, along with my slave ID number, and would be asked to press a certain key on their phone to indicate acceptance of the industry standard restrictions on communications with slaves. If they would not so indicate their acceptance of these restrictions the call would not go through. Of course my employer also recorded all calls.

My teammates were also working along similar lines dealing with other aspects of the proposed apprentice system. We compared notes at daily staff meetings.

The big day had arrived for our board presentation. We were to go up the elevator to the top floor where the executive offices and boardroom were located.

I was sure we would be issued some sort of clothing so that we would be decent as we made our presentation to the board. I was wrong about that. We were marched essentially naked to our rendezvous with the board. My female colleague and I wore only our high-heeled shoes, makeup and jewelry. Our male colleagues wore only their bowties and leather boots. We all wore our slave collars and the brands on our buttocks were visible to all.

When we filed into the boardroom the meeting was already in progress. Board members gawked at our nakedness. We were directed to sit on high stools that had been specially constructed to raise each of us so that our entire bodies were above the level of the boardroom table. Apparently the members wished to miss no detail of our anatomies as we made our presentations to them. The man chairing the meeting was Mel Zigler and it was explained to us that he was the chief executive officer of Masterson Automotive.

Jenkins had coached all of us as to "professional deportment" when appearing before the board. I was to act every bit the consummate professional as I delivered my report — as if it were perfectly natural for ten portly cigar chomping businessmen and two businesswomen to be ogling my nipples, my ass, my pubic hair and my vulva. I read my report out loud to them with my recommendations as to how using the apprentice system could save the firm money. My colleagues seconded my recommendations based on their own expertise in law and economics. Board members all stared at my genitals and those of my teammates, and they smirked! At first I carried this off with aplomb. Later I lost it at times and then was able to recover. They made cracks about our bodies and tried to embarrass us all into losing it. Sometimes they succeeded. Once I broke down crying in front of them all. I used my hands to cover my genitals I was so embarrassed. Jenkins walked over and zapped me with his electric cattle prod. I nearly jumped off my stool and everybody guffawed! I was quickly reminded of my station and put my hands behind my neck like an obedient girl. I was given leave to use my hands again only when necessary to point something out on a graph.

Then came the question and answer period. Various board members directed questions at my colleagues and me. Most of the questions were businesslike and most of the board members seemed to be satisfied with our responses. But some board members would also ask one or another of us to display our bodies in a different way, to extend or flex a leg perhaps or to open our thighs more, or to thrust our breasts out, or make our nipples erect. My male colleagues were even required by the two women board members to stroke themselves into erection. The old me, the formerly free me, thought I should have something to say about displaying my body like this. But the new me was quickly learning that such choices belonged to our masters! Sometimes I would refuse to do what they demanded of me. But my labia would always moisten when they would succeed in coercing me to do what at first I had refused! Perhaps I had a subconscious desire to be coerced!

Finally the meeting was over. Mr. Zigler crooked his finger at me and indicated I should follow him into his private office adjoining the boardroom. He closed the door and told his secretary that we were not to be disturbed. He offered me a drink of wine that I declined.

"Miss Glenn, I think you may be able to help my wife and I with a marital problem", he said at last. "You see we have been trying to conceive a child for two years now and we learned that my wife cannot conceive. I have decided that you will make a baby for us!"

I was dumbfounded. Surely he could not propose to force me into motherhood! My abdominal muscles and uterus involuntarily contracted with nervous tension.

"It is quite simple really. A week ago I had you taken off the anti-pregnancy drug most of our female slaves get. You still got the shot in your buttocks along with the other slaves, but I had them change the drug in the shot to one that would make pregnancy more likely rather than less likely. So you are fertile as of now. I will fuck you today and then fuck you again every few days until the doctors confirm you are pregnant with my child."

"Do I have anything to say about this?" I asked.

"No, you have no say. You will conceive my child, carry it to term, give birth to it, then you will breastfeed it until it can be weaned from mother's milk. At that point the child will become the exclusive responsibility of my wife and I and you will not see the child again."

"NO! NO! NO! I won't do such a thing! My womb is not for you to use! I won't let you fuck me!"

He just smirked at me, and then uttered a couple of words I had heard somewhere before, perhaps in my slave training. But I could not recall exactly what these words meant. The next thing I knew I was meekly laying down face up on his sofa and he was undressing and mounting me. I was strangely not resisting him in any way. I wanted to fight him off but my muscles just would not cooperate. I was not paralyzed but it was as if my muscles would only respond to his verbal commands and not to my own will.

He was a large man with a rather athletic build and a very hairy chest. When I saw his genitalia I thought I could never fit that man inside me. But soon I felt his penis begin to enter me. It was even larger in diameter than Jenkins penis so the going was slow at first as my vagina stretched to its absolute limits to accommodate him. But his penis was also longer than Jenkins had been. After an agonizing insertion process I felt the tip of it banging up against my cervix. Soon he began to piston in and out, very slowly at first because there was considerable friction due to his size and only minimal lubrication.

I sensed that he was enjoying the fuck but only in the way that men nearly always enjoy a fuck. There was not any particular cruelty or vindictiveness motivating him, as there had been with Jenkins. It was just that I was an object that could fix his childless marriage and at the same time provide him with some momentary physical pleasure. This was a man who was accustomed to regarding other human beings as just means to his ends.

Finally he grunted and I felt warm sticky fluid discharging deep within me. When he was finished he stood me up, handcuffed my hands behind me and made me sit in his office for an hour while he worked on his papers and made phone calls. No doubt he wanted to be sure I would not go somewhere and douche his sperm from my vagina.

Just before he dismissed me he said some word that was familiar to me from my slave training.

That evening my fellow slaves and I gathered in the lounge of our residential quarters for the hour before dinner. Usually we would watch TV. Tonight we began talking instead over glasses of wine. Until then we really had not gotten to know each other's background much. That may have been because each day had been so stressful that most of us had just wanted to zone out during that hour. But tonight was different. Our curiosity about each other finally overcame our earlier emotional overload.

"Harold", Jennifer asked, "how was it that a smart lawyer like yourself came to be enslaved? I think we would all be interested, if you are willing to talk about it?"

"Not a problem Jennifer", Harold Vick replied. "I am not proud of what I did. I was a partner in a law firm that did a lot of estate and trust work. My partners and I were all making a very good living. But I had a weakness for gambling and had run up a tab with one of the casinos. The casino could have me enslaved if I defaulted on my tab with them. I didn't find that convenient — so I stole money from two of the trust accounts I was managing for clients. That paid off the gambling debt."

"Of course I told myself at first that it was only a loan and that I would pay it back eventually. But eventually never came. Instead I was caught by one of my partners who turned the whole matter over to the public prosecutor. The bottom line is I was convicted of embezzlement and sentenced to 7 years of slavery as punishment. I was taken straight from the courtroom to the public auction platform, stripped of my clothing, and sold to the highest bidder, along with all my worldly goods."

"Did they make you ... I mean when you were being auctioned from that platform, did they make you ... you know?" Jennifer stammered.

"I guess you have heard the stories", Harold replied. "It has become standard procedure when a male slave is being auctioned to make him publicly masturbate and ejaculate in front of the bidding audience. It was no different in my case. The bidding goes higher when the prospective buyers can see that the slave is vital."

"That must be so ... well ... humiliating" Edgar chimed in. "So what happened next?"

"I was bought by Masterson Automotive, sent to Richmond Slendabond for my slave training, then here to report for work. The rest you know. What about you, Jennifer?"

"I was a dancer with National Ballet of Capitallia — a free employee, not like now", Jennifer Maisten responded. "But I was barely making ends meet on a dancer's salary. Only the principal dancers were well paid. I wanted to become a principal dancer which is what led to my downfall."