21st Century Subterranean Slavery Pt. 03

"Relax dear and begin to contract at a rate you are comfortable with. That's it; I can feel it in my hand. Over the next hour the assistant inserted several different devices including one where she had to stand. "There you have nothing to worry about dear I'm sure you will pass with flying colors in seven days."

"How long does this training last?"

"For as long as you're a sex slave, as you get older and loose that youthful glow; it becomes even more important. Some client chose sex slaves exclusively by the VSM rating, noted in the dossier with your photo-layout."

After the class she was led out in the hall way and told to sit, most of the rock tunnels seemed to have benches along on or both walls. There were sex slaves sitting for a far as she could see in the dim light. Tall carts were then rolled along with shelves of food trays. Every slave was handed a tray with her number on it. She looked around and noticed everyone else setting it on their laps and then eating with cutlery. So it was only in the warden's office where you ate like an animal.

"Surprised honey?" A buxom black female sitting next to her chuckled as she spoke; "you're new, right out of the Warden's cave of horrors aren't you? I'm two-seven."

"I'm One-eight-six and yes my first day out. You look to young to have been here a lot of years with that number?"

"Barely one, "I'm twenty; they give retired numbers as they become available. I'm British by the way, abducted in Jamaica while on vacation; I probably drowned or was eaten by a shark while scuba diving." One-eight-six replied with her own allowable information. They ate in silence and then stood up sliding their empty trays into the slots as the cart rolled by.

"Well," the British female said; "it's sleepy time."

She was led to a cell block with two rows of beds; she guessed fifty in the middle of the room. One steel post at the head of each bed held a sign with the slave's numbers and at the foot end a post held a receptacle for the ball. There was no bedding only a thin mattress. She was led to her number and ordered to place the ball and lie down. The guard then told everyone to rest and think about nothing as the lights were turned down low with elevator music played softly. She fell to sleep and woke to the sound of a soft bell.

They were then ordered to file out in the rock tunnel and led to a large dimly lit room with a thickly carpeted floor. It turned out to a combination of show and tell plus some acting. They were arranged in circles of ten sitting on the floor with their iron balls centered in a neat circle. The guards did not take part at first but circulated listening.

For a while they took turns describing every sexual detail of the previous night; how they had satisfied the client, how many times and if they thought the client had been completely satisfied. Some would get up and show the bruises they had received from the client or the madam from a complaint. Others would then make comments stating what they would have done different or praise for doing something out of the ordinary. One-eight-six was left out since she hadn't served a client yet.

Next they would playact; each female would pretend that a female across from her was a client and say how much she loved her. One-eight-six thought at first that this was very silly but she soon discovered that constructive criticism from others was very educational. She learned that the volume, tone of voice, facial expression during the statement and especially after, could be infinitely varied; eyes and lips open or close, head cocked or turned slightly, eyelids fluttering. There was no end to it and then every face was of course different and what worked for one did not work for another but mainly a submissive sweet expression was the key.

When her turn came as the last one she actually came off fairly well, with two slaves giving her advice.

Everyone then stood up and posed one at the time way they would do in the evening lineup. She was surprise that there was no bump and grind movement but apparently the object was to display the body to prospective clients front, side and back; hands behind the head most of the time then folded behind the back, down to rub the thighs a bit and back up flipping the breasts lightly in passing; lifting the long hair if that applied, swinging it a bit and then behind the head again. The facial expression had to be distant, not icy cold like a runway model but sweet and fearful. Equally important was breathing, heaving the chest displaying your breasts to the best advantage. She learned later the reason for them posing in a regimented manner was that the syndicate wanted every sex slave displaying their body features and not distracting the client with a dance competition.

At this point two guards came inside the circle, one with a clipboard and the other began to fondle one of the slaves very slowly in a loving sensitive manner, while the other guard watched the expression on her face. The next female was treated roughly; the guard clawed her tits, slapped her ass and then rammed her hand into her crotch. The slave responded by shaking, breathing rapidly with a fearful expression. The third slave was made to flex her biceps while the guard felt them and then forced her mouth open checking her teeth, her ears and then made her bend over showing her crotch while she poked a finger into her vagina.

One-eight-six now understood that they were practicing to deal with different client personalities while the guard rated their response. Sometimes she would start over, telling the slave this or that was wrong. When she got to her the guard crossed her arms and just stared at her scanning her body with a superior expression. Not knowing what to do she turned her head closing her eyes acting like she was really scared and tried to tremble. The guard slapped her face and pointed at her own eyes. She made eye contact again and the guard nodded and moved to the next slave. She drew a deep breath in relief; maybe she would be good at this?

She walked back to her cell block and ordered to sit on the bed. They were then told that this was free time and they were allowed to talk quietly with their neighbors.

"I am One-eight-six," she said to her neighbor and held out her hand.

"You new here, we're not allowed to touch; I'm Seven-nine. I've been here more than three years; born in the Ukraine, lured to France with the promise of a job and forced into prostitution. My pimp must have sold me to an agent who drugged me and brought me here.

"Thanks for the warning; I was born in the US and abducted in Las Vegas. I've just been five days in the Wardens office."

"Oh yes, five nights with the beast. "And you got used to him and didn't show disgust anymore with his ugliness."

"Well I did get use to it sort of, yes."

"That's when you get the booth."

"What do you mean?"

"He thrives on disgust in his slaves. Once he doesn't sense that anymore you're in the lineup. We've all been there," she smiled, "whenever we make a mistake and have been punished by the madam we spend a day or night of makeup sex with the prince of darkness. So you seen the worst, I've never seen a client that ugly. Most of them are fairly handsome, you know old but distinguished; that goes with being successful I guess."

"That sweet little Asian seems to loves him madly."

"Ah yes but what you don't notice is that she's always trembling and her eyes show fear when he touches her. He buggered her a few week ago lying on top of me while I embraced and kissed her. She trembles like a leaf but you have to touch her to know it. He sends her out most days because her skills and innocent looks in the photo spread makes her a real money maker but he sometimes brings her back at least during the day. He also sends her for very special repeat clients in private rooms, who are willing to pay a premium. They dress her up usually in a school girl's uniform, ribbons in the hair with two little pig tails and you know a cute white blouse and tie, a short plaid skirt, white socks and flat shoes.

"Most of the time it's a rape session, sometimes with an older Asian slave playing the poor mother selling her for cash or playing the outraged mother while her daughter is raped or gang raped. She plays the horrified sweet innocent young girl just perfectly. I think she's one of the biggest money makers they have. I've been at one such gang rape session with her with me being use as a mattress. A lot of men like that when fucking a petite female. You will probably also be used that way with your body"

"I already have with her in the warden's bedroom."

"How much time did you spend in the pit?"

"I think nine days initially and then five more with the rats after I talked back to the madam while she read me my lack of rights."

"Some right we have, I bet you won't do that again; I was there 10 days the second time for refusing lesbian sex."

"You don't have a problem with that now?"

"I'll fuck anything with a pulse and may even without, before I'd go back down there."

"I'm naturally bisexual; you still have a sense of humor after three years."

"After a while it becomes your home, they keep you so busy with training and meditation, you don't have time to think of much else. Everything is done for you, they wash you, do your hair, shave your legs, put on your makeup, you can't even wipe your own ass and then they lick it. I mean that's better than royalty.

"Yes but we don't get paid."

"Very funny, yes we're humanitarians giving it away; we spread our thigh and the syndicate makes a fortune."

"Why don't they shave my pubes I'm not used to that?"

"Again we are here to fuck older men and they don't like bald pussies; it's a turnoff they say. Shaving down there came about with the thong; that was long after their time.

"Why did you go back to the warden's office if you been here two years."

"If there is a slight problem in the clients report, he'll fuck you himself to check your performance level and you better be good unless the pit entices you. I think he also has some kind of rotation schedule to keep us sharp, so we all take turns in his beastly arms. You know yourself he fucks five or ten different slaves every day. So that's about two hundred and fifty in a month. That's about right I seem to end up there every six to eight weeks."

"You don't seem to be depressed with your life here as a sex slave. Don't you miss being free?"

"You'll soon realize that there's no time for that. Twice a day we get half an hour to gap like this. Other than that, you exercise, go to classes, eat and sleep; then they tell you who to fuck; you don't have to bother with the dating circuit or worry about finding the right partner; you never get to decide anything. I think we would be totally lost on the outside."

"But...but you don't get good looking young guys just old men."

"They're all good looking in your mind even the Warden; you must have used that trick already."

"Well what I had in my mind when kissing him, it was him or the pit and the rats."

"That is one way; you'll get a few lookers in their forties, maybe even thirties but with your size most of your clients will be like mine; usually shorter that me I'm five foot-seven. Mostly Orientals they're nuts about big white woman, they can be harsh and are usually not lovers; you do it obedientlyor else and it's usually over quickly; unless they're really old, then it can take forever but it'll be usually only one act. You can go to sleep until the guard picks you up.

"So you and I will never have sex."

"There are party rooms where client have dinner parties with friends and some of us are brought in to entertain. Usually dressed up as French maids with no panties and exposed tits; being groped when serving food and drinks. Others are used as live statues in bondage, some are chained to walls or columns and the guest will use us any way they see fit. A common form of entertainment is watching lesbian lovemaking or cat fights, that's mostly for male parties but some women like to watch that too."

"Have you been in catfights?"

"Look at me I'm a bear, many, many times and it always ends up as lesbian orgies in some way. You know the loser being force to eat out the winner; that's what men like to see, and then of course after that you get fucked or sometime gang banged, another male fantasy?"

They were interrupted by the gong and told to lie down with their eyes closed. The guard then spoke to them.

"We will focus now on the reason you exist. In two to three hours depending on your assignment, you will perform the only task sex slaves exist for. Sex, sex, sex, there's no other purpose to your lives. You submit, you submit, you submit.

"Until then your mind will be focused with a few breaks on nothing else. Nothing can enter your mind except the intoxicating feeling of totally sexually satisfying the client who will choose you out of the line-up or has picked you out of the register for private parties, dungeon bondage, rape sessions etc.

"Concentrate now on your client and caress your breasts lightly One-eight-six heard a low moan from her cell mates. She moaned along with them feeling her breasts. "Circle both areolas with your fingers, his lips are near. Finger the nipples...now grasp your breasts, squeeze them gently repeatedly presenting your nipples. Feel your client kissing one...then the other. The moisture makes it wet and cold." There were collective gasp and then the moaning got passionate and louder; as they continued for ten minutes to present their nipples to imaginary client's lips.

"Now, whisper the name of the body part where you now feel a strong craving;" fifty pairs of lips whispered: my vagina. "What is the purpose of your vagina," The words 'client's penis' whispered through the cellblock. "What will the client experience from your vagina?"' Fifty slaves whispered: pleasure, with a deep passion as their breathing became labored.

"What is your anus for?" Again fifty pairs of lips whispered my client's penis. "Feel it I your anus." She clenched her cheeks

"What are your lips for?" Once again, my client's penis "Feel it in your mouth." she opened her mouth wide and pretended she was sucking on a penis.

"Move your hands slowly down your body dig your fingers into the thigh creases, thumbs touching above the vulva while spreading your thighs slightly you will now perform and recite the vaginal pledge.

"Open your thighs wider, inhaled deeply and raise your pelvis, the orifice is relaxed. As you exhale clench the orifice pinscher, lower your pelvis and close your thighs slightly. What did you close your thighs on?" A hoarsely throated: 'my client' filled the room. "What do you feel in your vagina?" Fifty pairs of lips whispered breathlessly: 'ooooh my client's penis.' Repeat the vaginal wow until ordered to stop.

One-eight-six opened her thighs, inhaled deeply, and raised her pelvis relaxing her orifice. She then tried to clench her orifice while lowering her pelvis and closing her thighs slightly, whispered 'my client and then, 'ooooh my clients penis', along with her cellmates. They repeated the exercise over and over again maybe for an hour.

The feeling in her crotch became increasingly real. As she relaxes and inhaled, raising her pelvis, meeting and welcoming an imaginary penis entering her vagina, her orifice then squeezed it as she lowered her pelvis closing her thighs on his body while whispering the words with an ever increasing mesmerizing passion becoming feverishly more intense with every repetition. . She gasped in disappointment along with her cell mates when the gong rang three times ending the session. A spasm flashed though her body as she desperately squeezed her thighs and vagina on nothing. The illusion was gone but her body ached for more.

The gong rang again after a few minutes and the guard ordered the entire cell block, except for some females in red shorts to enter the cleansing room. They were hosed standing close together ten at the time. Some got caps and others had their hair washed and then moved into the fan room. Next the hair salon with more than twenty chairs; staffed mostly by slaves in red short, setting hair, shaving legs, armpits and then makeup.

Back in the cell block they were fed. Every slave was on her own diet determined by a dietician. There could be no food left on the tray and sharing or trading food was strictly forbidden. After the trays were removed the guard ordered the breasts routine and then the vaginal promise for about ten minutes. They were then ordered to lie down and just focus for a time while elevator music played over the speakers until the gong rang and the guard addressed again.

"Within a short time you will be at the mercy of client who has paid a high price to the syndicate for the temporary ownership of your body. The reason for that price is that this is the only place on the planet where true slavery exists. The reason I say, at the client's mercy should obvious. He can beat you, fuck you, and beat you, again and again, because for about ten hours you're his property like any store bought article.

"Technically the client can't actually rape you, rape implies an illegal act and since you're not protected by law, the client is free to abuse you in any way he or she sees fit. There is only one difference between you and historical slaves is; he can't kill you and is not allowed by the terms of the lease to draw blood. Remember as a slave you're nothing to him but a triple receptacle for his cock. Despite that you will love him madly as he uses one or all of those receptacles during the night to satisfy his lust.

"Focuses on that thought now, tell yourself that tonight's client is your legal owner holding you deed for the night and there's absolutely no way to resist or deny him. Think about that for the next ten minutes; concentrate hard."

Ten minutes passed by quickly for One-eight--six even with the treatment she'd received from the Madam and the Warden or because of it, she suddenly realized how hopelessly helpless she was. She had to love all clients madly whatever they did to her and she knew she would. The alternative was a night with a monster warden and or the snake pit.

"Now think about your client again. You do not want to resist abuse. You can't resist; you do not have the right to resist. You will love your client no matter what he or she does to you or whatever act he or she demands because you want to submit; you need to submit completely or you life has no meaning. What is your life about?"

"Total sexual submission," every voice except One-eight-six whispered in unison. "Repeat that until ordered to stop." One-eight-six chimed in, repeating the whispered chant with her cell mates over and over again. She had no idea how much time had gone by when the gong sounded three times. No one moved or spoke, she felt as if she'd been hypnotized and kept her eyes closed while total sexual submission resonated through her mind.

"One-eight-six keep you eyes closed and tell us how do you feel?" She was shocked to be singled out again.

"I...I feel very strange like I'm in a different world."

"You are...in a different world slave, in less than two hours a very wealthy citizen will chose your body to pleasure him or her. It is his or her world, therefore being a sex slave object it can't be your world. Many of very rich believe that their money give them the right to control the lower classes. They dislike democracy and come here to vent their frustration by using your body in any way they chose.

These people can easily afford whores or mistresses or toy boys, for a lot less but they're free to spend what is given to them and can leave if they want. Whores also sometimes demand more money for special sex, like blowjobs but beatings are out of the question.