Chapter 12: Infiltration Flight

Hank lifted off in the pre-dawn sky. Hank wore a tan flight suit and his slave girl Amanda was naked except for her slave collar. Amanda struggled to remain awake, failed. Sometime later the bright sky woke Amanda. She blinked, shielding her eyes.

"I can turn the screen down," Hank offered. "The canopy is clear only when all power is shut off. It can opaque, darken, even show cartoons."

"Where are we?"

"About 30 minutes from Colorado Springs. I'm going to refuel there. Too bad we don't have commercial in-flight refueling or I'd not spend that hour landing, fueling and taking off. If you want to nap some more, go ahead. I can entertain myself by watching you sleep."

Amanda stared at Hank with a muzzy expression on her face.

"We're alone here, Karen Amanda Coalfield," Hank placed his hand on Amanda's. "Something is bothering you. Tell me so that I won't have to guess."

"Those little girls," Amanda said as she sadly shook her head. "You lied to them."

"Serena and Sarah? Yes, I promised to find their mother. I'm not ready to tell them that their mother was murdered."

"When will you be ready, Master?" There was no resentment in Amanda's voice, only concern. "They will have to know."

"It will take a week before their mother is ready to see them," Hank grinned. "Ryder's mother has the same problem that the twins had--Ryder's mother died horribly in front of Ryder two years ago. That's why Ryder has attachment issues. I'm treating Ryder for PTSD. I like to think I've cured her."

"Sybil Truemon is dead," Amanda said.

"Amanda, Ryder's mother Emma died. The Kingbees were living in Reno and a gang tricked its way into their home. Roger was in the lab or he would have died, too. The gang came to the door in coveralls and claimed to be a work detail that Roger hired. Ryder had it rough--very rough. The police found Ryder holding on to her mother's corpse and sucking the remaining breast. Emma's other breast had been sliced off as a souvenier--Emma's breasts are almost as good as yours. It took me several weeks to erase that memory from Ryder's mind, to put something else in there. Ryder had curled up in her own shell. She had injuries, too."

"Wait, you said that Emma was dead. You didn't bring Emma back from the dead?"

"Emma is a cyborg with all of Emma Kingbee's recorded memories," Hank replied. "I only had Emma's memories because Emma Kingbee wanted me to clone her. I offered her a cyborg because they can be made cheaper and more quickly. Emma wanted to give her husband a second woman, one that would not be a rival. If not for Emma's gift, all of her would have been lost."

"Emma's a robot?" Amanda scowled. "That's impossible! I drank milk from her breasts. She eats food. She pees and poops just like the rest of us. I watched her!"

"She can also be made pregnant, Amanda. Cyborgs are a fusion of machine and organic. I'm going to do that with Sybil, too. She worked for your father so I'm able to get access to most of Sybil's recorded memories. It was something the Dream Warriors pioneered in Colorado Springs--recording memories. It is the best I can do. Look at Ryder and Emma. Ryder knows that something happened and she cannot bear to be away from Emma for long. There are so many memories levels that some always leak through, given time." Hank's eyes roamed over Amanda's naked curves. "Cyborg bodies are one life-extention technology. Cyborgs are not yet on the Capitallia lawyer radar, so I'm registering Sybil as my slave on a long-term medical contract. Emma has been on that contract since Ryder was three. Until Emma has something resembling human rights I own part of her and Roger owns part. It's the only way we can protect her right now."

"You promised Ryder that she could be your slave," Amanda said softly. "That's not legal."

"Unofficial slave," Hank responded. "I only have a few slaves. I have indentured servants, too. Then there are the concubines--that is sort of a slave and isn't. Her children are acknowledged as mine. Citizens only have to register their children after birth so that the children are legal resident non-citizens. Adult non-citizens are required to get a license to ensure that the child is cared for. Non-citizens who have children without a license can be indentured to make sure that the child is cared for."

"The average life expectancy is 90 now," Amanda objected.

"That's for slaves and citizens," Hank frowned, "the low-income Legal Resident's life is hard--much harder than it is for the slave. Life expectancy is shorter for the low-income free legal resident due to lack of food and medical care. On the other hand, all the low income people have to do is find an indentured servant position."

"Many would rather die," Amanda murmured.

"They get their wish," Hank scanned his instrument panel and then resumed his talk with Slave Amanda. "Speaking of wishes, your enslavement is open-ended. You want a daughter. Ned and I want you to have more than just one child. You will be around as a parent and role model until the child is at least 12--I'd prefer you to remain enslaved until your youngest child is 25. The future is murky. Lots can change. At a minimum you will remain a slave for 15 years and your enslavement may last more than 100."

"I'll be really old when I am free again," Amanda commented.

"No, you will not BE old, you will just have been alive 130 years," Hank said as he leaned over to fondle Amanda's breasts. "Modern medicine can halt the aging process. Some age reversal is possible. Besides, I still need to test you, to find out what is best for you and your children--and your female partners."

"Female partners?" Amanda grumbled. "What is it about men and girl-girl action?"

"You asked," Hank launched into a long-winded explaination. And eternity later Hank concluded, "So you see, if you are intimate with the right woman, there's no possibility of jealousy, no hurt feelings. You are happy for each other. Besides, as a slave you have no say in the matter. Your partners are Dawn and Eve."

"TWO women!" Amanda sputtered.

"Yes, Amanda," Hank grinned at the shocked woman. "The three of you will bear children for me. The only question is if the three of you can get along. Dawn and Eve don't need you. They're twins and they can get along just fine without another woman. You, on the other hand, need them. I'll know in a few days if things work out between the three of you. Amanda, you aren't going to have to raise your daughter alone. You will have help."

"Whether I want it or not," Amanda mumbled.

"Exactly," Hank replied. "I'm beginning the decent into Colorado Springs for refueling. We'll be on the ground in about 10 minutes."

Ten minutes later Hank left naked Amanda strapped in her seat as he climbed out of the open canopy. The chill of the thin mountain air left Amanda's nipples rock hard. The canopy closed, trapping warm air inside and cutting the wind.

Outside, Hank was talking to the person filling the fuel tanks. It didn't take long before the operation was completed. After the fuel handler left, Hank walked around the sky car. Hank used a control fob to open the canopy and he climbed into the cockpit. Hank's sky car was a four-seater, a small aircraft. Hank managed to slip out of his flight suit and boots despite the cramped quarters.

"Once we are at our cruising altitude," Hank buckled his naked body into his seat, "you'll become a member of the Mile High Club."

"What's that?"

"An informal recognition of people who have had sexual intercourse at least 1.62 kilometers off the ground," Hank explained as he started the lift engines. "A mile is the old unit of measure and it equated to 1.62 kilometers. We are actually going to be at 6700 meters altitude, so I guess you'll be a member of the Four Mile High club."

The sky car's engines were started, their roar a purr heard in the sky car's interior. Hank talked on the radio as the sky car's auto pilot handled the actual flying. In minutes the sky car was climbing past the 6000 meter mark.

"Unbuckle your safety harness," Hank commanded as he slid his own seat back as far as it would go. "This is a small aircraft, but your seat reclines and is designed to double as a bondage bench. Do you need to urinate before we begin?"

Amanda numbly nodded. Hank reached into a compartment and withdrew a package. Hank opened the package, unfolded it.

"This is a disposible urninal." Hank helped Amanda use the device and cleaned her up afterwards with a moist towellet. "You are wondering why you feel no embarassment despite your shy bladder. I put you under hypnosis just after take off from Silver Orb. Right now you are incapable of being embarrassed or frightened or anything. Your first lesson is that you will never be abandoned. Listen to this song."

The song about a castaway was sung by a young girl. Hank kneaded Amanda's breasts. When the song ended, Hank wiped a pearly drop from Amanda's nipple and rubbed Amanda's lips.

"You're lactating. Good. You will milk bond with Dawn and Eve," Hank instructed as Amanda licked her lips. "You need to totally accept other people's love if you are to get the total acceptance and love that you crave. You feel like the castaway in the song, abandoned and alone. I know because I am an empath. I can read some thoughts. Amanda, you are never going to be alone again. We are going into danger and if we seperate, just reach inside yourself. I'm there. That's how I know your feelings. Amanda, you couldn't accept love before because you were lied to when you were told that good girls only loved Jesus. You have to read the Bible yourself sometime--you need to know that Jesus preached that the way to love Him was to love others. So be a good girl. Love yourself and love others. I will direct you to lovers that will return your love. Dawn and Eve have been my slaves for the past six years. I know that they and you are compatable. They will need you to help them empty the milk from their breasts, too. Like this."

Hank spent the next ten minutes massaging, suckling and squeezing Amanda's breasts. Within seconds Amanda began a series of orgasms from the combination of talk and breast stimulation. The orgasms increased in intensity until Amanda almost passed out. Sweating, panting, moaning, occassionaly screaming, Amanda surfed the orgasms as if they were waves washing up on the beach. The sky car's environmental controls were inadequate for removing the scent of female musk Amanda generated. A sticky secretion dribbled out of her slit--when she screamed, she spurted. Amanda's scalp hair was saturated to the point that an observer would think she had been standing in the rain. Amanda's eyes rolled up and her eyelid's fluttered.

The sky car's comm unit buzzed. The caller was identified as Joan Jakefield.

"Amanda, you are emotionally looped with me," Hank explained. "I'm irritated, but Joan needs my attention right now. I'll give you a blanket--being naked in public is one thing, but you don't want to appear in public right now. Women always want to look their best. This is a two-way unit so that Joan can see me too. You think you look messy and I want you to be proud, not humiliated."

Amanda sighed as the ghosts of her intense orgasms echoed through her and she closed her eyes. Hank pulled a blue blanket out of a compartment and covered Amanda. Amanda pulled the blanket off, shook her head and grinned.

"Show me off, Master!" Amanda said.

Hank kissed Amanda. The comm beeped again. With a sigh, Hank returned to his seat and turned on the comm unit.

"Hi, Joan," Hank said as the head and shoulders of a handsome woman appeared on the windshield. "This is Amanda. She is going to join Dawn and Eve and possibly be their owner after Amanda is freed."

"Hello, Amanda. You look yummy. I'll want to get to know you better before you take off with my daughters." The screen image was three dimensional and it appeared as if Joan was on the other side of a window looking in. Her eyes shifted from Amanda's sprawled form to Hank as he shifted back to his seat in the cramped cockpit. "I needed your authorization, Hank. The Ellen Sterling Foster Home is being liquidated in one week and the staff wants to sell themselves and their wards to us." Joan explained that the orphanage specialized in girls from age 6 to 16, but currently had 17 girls in the ages least likely to be adopted--eight to thirteen. The three staffers were adults, of course, but were ages 44, 51 and 54. "I checked with Legal and we can apprentice the orphans. It won't be a problem to enslave the three women."

"What do you need me for," Hank struggled to avoid projecting his irritation. "And why not simply hire the adults?"

"They need to be chattel slaves if we are to use the Fountain on them." Joan replied.

"And you need me to authorize that. I see. How far back will you revise them?"

"We also need to fix some health issues on the young girls. Hank, some were abused before they came to us." Joan's image flinched on-screen. "The children will never be normal. You'll have to help them cope with their past. I recommend that we age regress them all."

"How far back?"

"I was thinking that the adults should all be around ten physically, and the children should all be five. We should keep them there for a decade while we treat them," Joan explained. "At the end of that period we'd re-evaluate them. Since they have a voluntary enslavement on the adults, we can manumit them when we wish--after the initial ten-year commitment, of course."

"Since we are going to own those adults, I want them to be sexually active. They'll need to go through puberty far enough so that intercourse won't injure them." Hank glanced at Amanda. "I can authorize all twenty to be taken into Project Cassandra. Find them an underwriter so that we can take the children under a medical treatment contract."

"I just needed your recorded verbal authorization to do so, Master," Joan grinned at Amanda. "I used to be Hank's slave. You wouldn't know it, but I used to be a man. I fell in love with Hank. We found a way to make me a real woman and to keep me young and beautiful. Dawn and Eve are my daughters."

"Joan Jakefield?" Amanda asked. "Doctor Joan Jakefield? The creator of the Jakefield Slave Control Bio Digital Implant?"

"The same. Hank was never satisfied with that animal control device. I still have mine in me from my slave days. Jakefields can be deactivated, but they are not removable. They were designed for military working dogs so that human handlers and the dogs could talk to each other, so that the dogs were under complete control. Hank's system has a removable module. Jakefields can be reactivated with the right equipment. I'll tell you a secret, Amanda; mine was reactivated after I became a citizen."

"Isn't that illegal?" Amanda asked. "Citizens cannot be controlled by other people."

"I felt so empty with a deactivated implant," Joan explained, "so alone. Hank will never hurt me. You'll find that out if you haven't learned it already. You look like he did the tit workout with you. Our Jakefields permit us to connect to each other so that we feel each other's orgasms. My daughters have that ability and during group sex everybody participating can fully share pleasures. It is something very few owners can share with their slaves--they lack both bio digital implants and Hank's psychic abilities."

"Was there anything else?"

"Muffin really misses you."

After the connection was broken, Amanda asked, "How many people do I have to share you with?"

"Counting non-humans such as Monty and Muffin?"

"Hank, who is Muffin? Or should I ask 'what is Muffin?' I'm starting to worry."

"Muffin is a Chincoteague Pony. she was born with severe defects. I obtained her and used her to develop much of the advanced animal control technology used in Monty and the cheetahs you met at Silver Orb. She is nearly 30 years old, too. If you don't know, Amanda, ponies can live 35 or 40 years. Muffin and her partner are still young because I've been using the life extension medical technology on them both. They stand a meter twenty at the shoulder and weigh 110 kilos each. Muffin is white with brown patches. Muffin has the personality and intelligence of a 9 year old human child and she has full vocal implants, but she needs a projector if she is going to read--Muffin's computer is linked directly to her brain so the pony can use her computer without hands or talking to it. I can do that for you, too, set up a computer to read your Jakefield so that you can run a computer without being physically next to your box. You'll be able to access that computer even while caged up and you can watch videos in the privacy of your mind, write poems, and even network with my other slaves on the same server. You can network with me."

"How many slaves do you have, Hank?" Amanda asked as Hank leaned over her and fastened Amanda's hands over her head with straps attached to the headrest. "I trust you, Hank, but what are you doing to me? I want to help."

"Part of that is being in thrall to me," Hank said as he positioned and fastened Amanda's right leg to her seat. "Part of it is that Amanda is a good girl and Amanda wants to please people. I'm strapping you down and then I'm going to make love to you until it is time for landing--IF there are no further interruptions!"

Amanda giggled. "You're funny, Master. I didn't know that Dr. Jakefield was a slave."

"Joan is a citizen, and she is also my slave in spirit--just like my wife Kelly. They are not slaves in the eyes of the law. Joan is the commander of the Pensacola Amazon Militia and she also has several day jobs including running an orphanage in Pensacola." Hank clipped Amanda's other ankle to the side of her seat and then pulled a wide strap across Amanda's belly. "I'd better come clean on the slave business. There are unofficial slaves and four types of indentured servants with five types of chattel slaves. The unofficial slaves are just ordinary free people who have intimate relationships with each other. All non-citizens are required to wear a bracelet or necklace that will respond with their identification number when interrogated. Citizens carry devices that can interrogate the ID bracelet. There are four types of legal residents and even an ID series for illegal aliens."

Amanda giggled.

"What ever for?"Amanda asked--then giggled again. "Illegal aliens are not required to carry ID. They're illegal!"

"That's true, Amanda. But illegal aliens who have been arrested are fitted with an arrest collar and given an ID number prefaced with the letters 'R I' so that they can be tracked through the legal system. The basic ID number is the same for a person throughout their life, Amanda, only the prefacing two letters change when a person's status changes. For example, every newborn is an RM or Resident Minor. When they become citizens, they get into the C0series. Most people undertake an indenture, either the V-series or they get sentenced to the I-series. There are basically voluntary and involuntary indentures in two flavors each--those required to provide sexual series and those that can, but are not required to. A VN volunteer Indentured Servant isn't required to have sex with the indenture holder even when the VN is a registered prostitute."

"That sounds complicated," Amanda said as Hank began stroking the inside of Amanda's thighs. "Oh, that feels marvelous!"

"Most indentured servants don't have to provide sexual services. Oh, an indenture owner for either a VN or an IN--that's an involuntary indenture that isn't required to provide sexual services--the owner can apply to have the indentured servant's status changed to IS. The only VS are those who volunteer for that status. A vN may apply for a status change to VS, but basically a VN can become an IS if the indenture owner can prove that best use of the indentured servant is sexual."

"Please, Hank," Amanda plead, "Touch me. Don't bore me. I need you."

"You are only receiving pleasure right now," Hank switched topics. "Later, you will be permitted to give pleasure. Open up--not just your thighs, slave girl. You are a full SV slave, Amanda. You have few rights and someone else has to protect those rights for you. Your father put you on an indefinite enslavement. SV cannot be enslaved for life, but there doesn't have to be an end-date on their enslavement. SL's are enslaved for life usually because of a criminal act but they cannot be legally freed."

"You're torturing me! Why are you telling me this?"

"Many people don't differentiate between slaves and indentured servants. Even an IS gets to go home after working hours--but many people treat both VN and IN indentured servants as if they were full chattel slaves. Only the S-series are required to be implanted with both RFID chips and the bio digital systems. Ned talked you into SV status so that I could totally control you. The I and V series indentured servants cannot be implanted against their will. It is illegal--even though the courts routinely do implant indentured servants back east. The indentured servant isn't a slave. In Nevada only S-series slaves are implanted. California messes up and some indentured servants are implanted--but they are supposed to be turned over to S-series chattel slaves before being implanted. The only indentured servants are the military indentures, the VM's that are either warriors undergoing their initial training or the support personnel. Congress has limited the number of soldiers in Capitallia's armed forces, so military indentures are used for some support functions."

"Hank! Master!" Amanda gasped. "Fuck me! Please!"

Hank grinned at his slave before leaning over and kissing Amanda's navel. Amanda whined in frustration as Hank knelt on the cockpit floor. Hank nuzzled his way to Amanda's clitoris, licked her labia before sucking on that sensitive pubic nub. Amanda shrieked and trembled--the only thing keeping Amanda from thrashing was her bondage.