Chapter 18

Tara:

While the gruff older guy on my left buckled the collar around my neck, he asked the guy I only knew as 'Jack, ' "How many women do you think you can handle, Lieutenant?"

Jack looked sheepish and replied, "I plan to stop interviewing now, Sir."

"It sounds to me like you still have a babysitter to exploit."

"That's collateral damage," Jack replied.

I rotated the collar a bit and asked, "Is it straight?" The little chick, Frieda, grinned. Well, she had my number...

Nobody else did -- except MAYBE Jack. You see, being picked up was a dream come true -- and if they weren't bullshitting me, it was more than I'd ever expected -- but the collar was enough...

Yeah, just the collar. I know, being a black woman, 'slave' ought to be a dirty word -- but to me, it wasn't. To me, the whole idea of being a slave brought excitement! I was soaking my panties, sitting there in that chair thinking about what Jack had ALREADY ordered me to do!

I was pretty sure little Frieda had my number -- and that made her the first. Boyfriends had worked around it, but they hadn't gotten it; even Nate, my missing husband, just thought it was dumb luck that I didn't bitch when he fucked around on me or he wanted something kinky; even then, the stupid bastard hadn't cared enough to hang around ... You don't meet people who understand on the street -- and if you do, they're likely to just take advantage of you. Nobody expects you to want to be owned, to have a fire in your belly that can only be quenched by being forced to give it all by someone who will take and take and demand more -- and treat you like furniture in the process -- ESPECIALLY if you're a black woman! People just don't get it...

Jack -- well, the first thing Jack did the other night was rub my nose in the fact that I'd watched other women get used and abused and done nothing about it. Then Frieda had come along and stunned me again and again, apparently seeing right through me! "So how often do you have to fuck the bartender?" she asked, right out of the blue after discussing my husband and kids!

I didn't even deny it -- in fact, I went in to full confession mode and was brutally honest about it -- even the fact that I was gonna want Jock to stick his nasty little dick in me after watching Jack and his girls...

Frieda asked Jack if he was interested in me -- and it was a blow to me that he wasn't, but it wasn't a surprise. Still, I didn't expect him to ask after my schedule, and that brought SOME hope...

Tonight, with another woman and another -- well, two more -- men, Jack came wandering back in and was all friendly -- and the women were dressed for the bedroom, rather than a bar or a restaurant, so there was just NO WAY I could stay away -- it was too exciting! There was too much of a draw; Jack was the kind of guy who could make women get naked and suck and fuck in public -- didn't that make him MY kind of guy? He was for DAMNED sure the closest I'd ever come...

'Put on the dog collar and you're my slave... ' That's what he'd said, in so many words. It's embarrassing to admit it, but Keisha and the kids were side issues; I sat there, fingering that collar, realizing that I was about to be freed! I know -- you're sitting there going 'Huh?' -- but I WAS being freed -- freed to do what I always wanted to do, freed to be what I'd always wanted to be! I settled that collar around my neck and glanced around, triumphant -- and at least two sets of eyes looked back with understanding in them...

Looking carefully down at the table top, I said, "If you don't mind, I'd like to go check on your dinner now ... Master."

"Good idea," Jack nodded and waved me away and I got up to run my first errand for the man I HOPED would control me for the rest of my life...

Jack:

Tara had no problem at all putting on that dog collar -- anybody could see THAT! I was more involved with dealing with the Major's comments as he buckled it on. Then she asked permission to go off and check on the food, and I let her go without even thinking about it.

Frieda sat there, shaking her head. "What?" I asked.

"You know, even if you WEREN'T going to take her, she'd have put that collar on," Frieda announced.

"Yeah, right," I replied.

But Frieda held my eyes. "I'm serious, Master. You KNOW she likes to watch; why do you think that is? It's because she wants it to be HER! You don't think she couldn't tell Jock to piss off? She WANTS him to dick her -- and she WANTS him to treat her like shit while he does it! She gets off on it!" She turned to Beth, "Am I right?" Beth nodded, her eyes hooded. "We've both got it, too, in varying degrees. I'm happy to do anything you ask because you're the best thing that ever happened to me and I don't have much in the way of limitations. Beth is happy because she wants to be your brood mare and she's totally in love with you -- but Tara will let you use her for a doormat because she LIKES being on the bottom of the totem pole!"

I frowned. "I never intended that."

Frieda leaned forward and said, "Well, get used to it. She's happy, because you are the closest thing to her ideal man she's ever run across. You're perfectly comfortable bossing women around -- out of habit, because that's how it is where you live. But she's used to the good ol' U. S. of A. where every woman is liberated and 'slave' is a dirty word and being a slave owner is up there with mass murder and pedophilia!"

Perplexed, I asked, "Are you sure?"

Frieda started poking the tabled top. "Master, when the time comes, she's not gonna just shuck out of her clothes, embarrassed -- she's gonna give you the best striptease she is capable of, with a big grin on her face. Oh, she'll BE embarrassed -- but she'll ALSO be hot enough to fuck the whole bar! Wanna bet on it?"

I frowned. "So..."

"So I might slip up at some point, and Beth still has a ways to go with being embarrassed or asked to do crazy shit -- but Tara will spread herself on top of the pool table and hang her head over the edge and take on all comers if you tell her to BECAUSE IT'S WHERE SHE WANTS TO BE!"

"That's a little extreme," I opined.

Frieda shook her head. "I bet NOTHING is too extreme. You got a slave there, Master -- the real thing. You need to, like, get it through YOUR head this time, because it's gonna make a difference."

I eyed her. Frieda seemed to have radar where the dark side was concerned; she could be right. What did that mean, exactly? At a guess, I needed to limit myself; stuff I might wave in front of Beth to embarrass her, Tara wouldn't even think about, if Frieda was correct. Well, I'd bought it; if it was more than I bargained for, then I would just have to deal with it...

Tara came back, wormed her way between Frieda's chair and the bench on my left and knelt. "Ten minutes, Master."

I nodded. "Very good. Go back to the chair -- we don't want Jock to get excited any earlier than we have to."

"Yes, Master." Tara got up and settled into the chair. Frieda sat there, grinning at me. Well, we had ten minutes...

Tara:

When my new master released me, I went straight to the kitchen and told Pedro to make DAMNED sure he gave this order all prime cuts! Those dickheads at the bar could eat the stringy stuff; my Master deserved the best!

"Yah, fine," Pedro waved me off, then peered at my neck. "Whazzat? You go Goth?"

"It's a slave collar," I replied, fingering it. "Like it?"

Pedro eyed me as if I'd grown a second head. "You're a weird bitch, Tara."

"Yeah, maybe." I waved and headed back out.

Seeing an opportunity, I worked my way between Frieda's chair and the bench on my new master's left and knelt to deliver my report. Oddly, no one seemed surprised; I expected a gasp or two, but got nothing -- and didn't know whether to be disappointed or elated. My Master had me sit in the chair again -- not because he was embarrassed, but because he was delaying a possible scene with Jock. I liked that; he had a reason -- he wasn't just embarrassed ... I sat and fixed my eyes on the table top.

"So, are you happy with this turn of events?" Master asked.

"Oh, yes, Master! Very happy!" I was ecstatic!

"Why, exactly? Because you're being extracted? Because your children are being taken care of? Look at me..."

My heart thudded in my chest. Had I done something wrong? "Those are important, but..." I steeled myself and made the plunge, "More important, I have a Master."

Master flicked a glance at Frieda. "What did you major in at college? Psychology?" Frieda grinned and opened her mouth, but Master was looking at me again. "What do you want from me?"

I was confused. "Why, nothing, Master. It all goes the other way! I want to give..." I ran out of words -- was there a better word than 'everything?'

Master eyed me, musing. "So it's my job to take..."

I blinked. "Um, yes Master." It hadn't occurred to me that taking could be a job...

Master Jack grinned crookedly. "Even I may not be as good at that as you've hoped, but we'll give it a shot. At the very least, if I can't fill the bill, you're a LOT more likely to find what you're looking for with us."

"What are your plans for me, Master?" I asked.

Master Jack shrugged. "Simple stuff. Keep you barefoot and pregnant -- raising kids. You'll answer to Beth, who answers to..." He flicked a glance at Frieda, "I haven't figured that out yet. There are two others ... and Keisha, I guess. Any of you who are underemployed we'll find fun stuff for."

I flicked a glance at McGruff on my left, "That's a lot of slaves."

Master Jack didn't turn a hair. "I'm mildly augmented." Well, you heard tales ... Confederacy Marines were supposed to be these never ending studs with cocks ten inches long and as big around as a Coke can -- which sounded like bullshit, but I remembered Master Jack dealing with Troy and Tony...

"He makes two look easy," Frieda related, turning to Beth, "Doesn't he, Sweetie?" Beth nodded.

Master Jack moved on, "With your kids, there will be four on the ground and another added in three months. After that, well, I don't expect Beth to wait long. Confederacy medicine takes some of the wear and tear out of pregnancy, so we could end up with a small herd. I want your experience backstopping Beth's natural affinity -- she's the Earth Mother type -- and we'll bring Keisha on line as things grow, if it all looks good. Right now, I have one concubine with management skills but not a lot of motherhood in her and one ditz that needs watching to keep her from fucking up; I'm hoping the second wave is an improvement."

He was SO matter-of-fact about handling a whole herd of women! Things were going to be just fine... "I can't wait," I croaked.

McGruff rumbled, "You can't dock her for enthusiasm." He tilted up his beer, draining it. "I needed that."

Master gave me a look -- which was all I needed. "Anyone else?" I asked, rising.

"I'll have another glass of wine," the third guy at the table said. Frieda called him 'Mr. H', I think. I had no more idea why he was there than I had about McGruff -- but I knew that McGruff was Master Jack's boss. Well, it would all settle out. I headed for the bar.

"What's with the collar?" Jock asked as I delivered the order.

"Something different," I told him, remembering Master Jack's injunction not to get Jock excited before I had to.

"Joining the club?" Jock asked, gesturing in the direction of the tables.

"Maybe."

"Don't let it interfere with watering the customers."

"We're soaking them for booze regularly -- and a meal, Jock -- don't worry, the house is getting its cut," I assured him. "The more I'm around, the more they order."

"Yeah, whatever." The beer and the wine set up, Jock waved me off.

I went back and delivered the drinks; Master Jack waved me into the seat again. I glanced around. "Can I ask?"

"Who's who?" Master Jack replied. "Except for the Major, who is a bigwig at the colony you're going to, we're all family, after a fashion. Beth and Frieda you know, at least peripherally. They aren't related, but they're sisters under the skin. Beth was the initial draw, but Frieda has proven valuable for what she has between her ears."

That surprised me; Beth was, well, plain, and a little porky -- and she had that lisp, too. Frieda was petite and had a certain Lolita look to her, even though she had some baby fat.

"Oliver," Master Jack waved at the other guy, "is Beth's daddy, and Vera, there, is Beth's momma. Oliver owns her, now, although they used to be married. We're kind of breaking everyone in, since we haven't left yet as would happen during a normal pickup. Oliver and I are getting a little entertainment and the girls are getting a chance to get used to being naked and following instructions -- no matter how embarrassing they are -- which will be valuable to them in their new positions."

"So it really IS slavery..." I mused.

"Well, if you look at it from a purely legal and cultural perspective, the answer has to be yes," Master Jack replied. "You don't have any rights that I don't grant you -- and as far as other people are concerned, that's effectively zero. I answer for your fuck-ups -- and I punish you as I see fit, within some effective limits put in place by the colony government. Make no mistake -- if the fuck-up is bad enough, you could end up dead, and my only punishment would be the loss of your service -- but that's a pretty serious fuck-up. From a purely functional viewpoint, however, you're the mothers of my children, and while that doesn't grant you any rights or privileges, I DO tend to get fond of women who populate my bed and give me kids. Besides, I like having harmony in my pod, and you don't get that sleeping with one eye open because you're wondering when one of your women will crack under the strain and go looking for a way to end it all for both of you." Master Jack eyed me, "Life might therefore be a little easier than you were hoping for."