Party Slave

Anastasia laughed again. "You mean that little bit of fun by the pool? Well, we didn't need a slave then. But when Father got really excited, then we brought the slave out. He gave her such a good thrashing, I can tell you. Didn't you hear her scream? No, poor dear. You were sleeping so soundly." Anastasia kissed her lover on the shoulder. "And Sergei and Father did a double rear entry while I gave her a bit of a whipping myself. That was fun! If you'd been with us, you'd have been able to play."

Zee's face disintegrated into disgust and revulsion. "I just can't believe you're saying all this, Anastasia. What you were doing doesn't sound like sex to me. It sounds like humiliation and cruelty. Surely, this girl, Themira, she can't enjoy all of that."

"Fuck what she wants!" Anastasia snarled. "She's a slave. We bought her as one, and we can do what the fuck we like with her. Until we get tired of her, and then she'll just be chucked out. Then she can be a beggar or a whore or whatever else slaves do when they're not slaves any more."

Zee pulled herself off her lover, astonished by Anastasia's callousness. "Do you mean you seriously don't care?"

"Of course I don't. No one cares about slaves. We give her a bit of a beating. Make her suffer. Make her hurt. That's what slaves are for. And as long as you don't damage them too much they've got everything to be grateful for. At least they're not starving to death in the streets."

"Starving to death? What do you mean?"

Anastasia frowned. "Things are too soft in your corner of the solar system. You have it too easy. Here in Theseus, not everything is wonderful. Many, if not most, people here are just not doing that well. They can hardly afford food. Fuck knows how they even manage to afford clothes to protect their precious privacy. What do you think a slave would rather do? Give us pleasure? At a cost. Or starve?"

Zee didn't like this side of Theseus' culture at all. Nor her friend's unsympathetic attitude to it. Back home, there was no poverty. Not very many people were as wealthy as Anastasia's family either, but everyone was cared for. Everyone had a full, rich life. There were those who worked or had a particularly fortuitous inheritance, and therefore had rather fuller and richer lives than others. Zee could count herself in that fortunate category. Her father worked as a set designer on cyber-television. But nobody starved and nobody was a slave. Zee had heard about poverty, of course, but like the other unpleasantnesses in the solar system, like the long-running war in the Asteroid Belt or that horrible plague in the Oort Cloud, she'd never really paid much attention to it. She'd just hoped she'd never have to confront it directly.

Later that day, Zee knew she had to see the slave girl again. Thoughts about her had just haunted her all day. It had had a detrimental affect on her lovemaking with Anastasia, which was nothing like as passionate as that of the day before. In fact, she was almost pleased when Anastasia said she had to leave to visit her friend, Natalie, and could leave Zee alone on the come- and sweat-soaked sheets. Zee wandered around her room naked and languorous for several hours, not at all sure what to do. She could log into cyberspace. She could watch a film. Even just relax on the veranda with a book. But she found she was spending most of her time staring at her naked black figure in a full-length mirror. Perky firm breasts with the large aureole dark brown nipples. The lighter pink of the flesh inside her vagina. The trim slim figure. How was it that she was any different to the slave in the basement? Who was just as pretty as her, even if her baldness and her welts and bruises made her seem less so.

Zee eventually built up enough courage to make her way down to the basement, past the lifeless androids in the hallway and the busy domestic robots that were eating the dust and preparing the house for the evening's party. When she arrived at the room where she'd seen the slave, she found the room just as dark and miserable as it had been the night before. And the slave, Themira, was chained up in exactly the same way, except that in front of her was a bowl of water and a bowl of some fairly unappetising gruel.

Zee was horrified to see that what Anastasia had been saying was quite true. There were fresh marks on the girl's back and buttocks, and scratches over her face and shoulders. One scratch was quite prominent as it cut across the light blue stubble of her shaven pate. Zee stood by the door and looked across at Themira, not sure what to do or what to say. And then she noticed that Themira was staring at her, through light blue eyes underneath pale blonde eyebrows, and the expression on her face was one of fear. In fact, the girl was visibly trembling.

"Please don't hurt me, miss. Not now. Later this evening, you can hurt me. Then you can whip me. But not now. Please not. I'm not ready."

Themira's voice was soft and tremulous. And peculiarly submissive. Zee had never heard anyone speak in such a humble tone before. "Don't worry, Themira. That is your name, isn't it? I haven't come to hurt you."

The slave turned her head away and then bent down to sip the water from the bowl. For the first time, Zee noticed that the bowls were fixed to the ground and Themira wasn't able to drink or eat by lifting the bowls to her mouth. And there were no feeding implements. Furthermore, her wrists were chained together, and the trail of the chain went through a network which pulled taut her nipples and tugged on her vagina. Even the smallest actions were at best uncomfortable, and at worst positively painful.

"So what have you come for? What else would anyone come to see me for, if it's not to abuse me or hurt me? And why are you a funny colour? Have you had some operation to change your skin colour?"

"It's my natural colour!" said Zee proudly. She knew that some people spent a lot of credit to change their skin pigmentation. Not just black or brown, but also blue, red or green. Zee was born black. She looked at Themira again. "In truth, I don't know why I came here. I'm a friend of Anastasia's. I'm visiting from the inner solar system. We went to college together. It's just I've never seen a slave before."

"Well, you've seen one now, miss. Are you satisfied by what you see?"

Zee was puzzled and confused. She wasn't at all sure what she wanted to achieve. "I just thought that maybe… perhaps… I don't know… I mean… Why are you a slave? Was it a career decision?"

"'Career decision'? I don't know what you're talking about, miss. My father sold me into slavery because he was in debt. He used to drink and gamble. And it went wrong. And he'd already sold my older sister. So, it was my turn."

"You were 'sold'! Can they do that?"

"Of course, they can, miss. I really don't understand why you're asking these questions. I'm a slave. Unless you're one of the abolitionists you hear about, what are you going to do, miss? My father had no choice. If he didn't pay his debts then he'd have been killed. That's what these debt-collectors do. They're ruthless they are. He'd already lost two fingers and an ear from his last debt before he'd sold my sister. So, he had no choice. Him and my mother and my two younger sisters. They've got to eat, haven't they, miss?"

"That can't be right. It's the Fourth Millennium. Not the Second or First. There can't be slavery, extortion and racketeering today. It just doesn't make sense."

"I don't understand you, miss. Perhaps in the Martian or Terran or Venusian orbits things are different. But out here, in Theseus, when the going gets tough, there aren't that many options. And rich folks like having slaves. They've had them for generations. It's like a status symbol for them. Big house. Nice address. Set of realistic androids. And a sex slave. And while people want to buy them, there'll always be people willing to sell them."

"But you can't possibly want to be a slave."

"Of course I don't want to be, miss. But I can consider myself lucky. Some of the richer slave-owners kill their slaves. It's like a sport for them, miss. It's called 'Snuff'. Of course, only the richest ones can afford to do that. And be able to get away with it. Here, I just get beaten, humiliated, abused and fucked up the arse. Is that what you want to do, miss? Fuck me up the arse?"

"Goodness! No! Of course not."

Zee left Themira feeling fairly dissatisfied. She'd tried to talk to the girl, tried to be kind to her, and the girl had just not been grateful, or responsive or anything. Although, when she returned to her room and immersed herself in the artificial reality of a history show, she told herself that it was not surprising that someone who'd been sold into slavery by her father and was daily subjected to arbitrary cruelty and humiliation should feel somewhat bitter, she also felt that Themira should have shown some gratitude for her trying to offer the girl comfort. Even though of course she'd no idea what she should do. She couldn't very well free the girl. She was Anastasia's guest, after all. And she didn't have a key to all the manacles and bolts that there were constraining her, even if that were not the issue.

Later, Zee ventured out into the garden where preparations were underway for the party. Anastasia and her mother were giving orders to the domestic robots of where to place the buntings and balloons and other decorations. Anastasia's father was busy supervising an android whose task was to barbecue sausages, burgers and steak. Sergei was dozing naked on a lounger by the swimming pool. Zee strode over to Anastasia.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked.

Anastasia smiled. "Not on the preparation front, sweetest. But you could help Sergei. He's been dying to get to know you better."

"Help Sergei?" Zee wondered. He didn't look like he needed helping. But as she found out, the assistance that Sergei wanted was of a sexual nature. And so it was that for the first time for weeks, Zee once again enjoyed the taste of cock. And, Zee had to admit, Sergei was well endowed. It took very little time for him to ease off her clothes and for the two of them to get down to business under the approving eyes of Anastasia and her parents. Zee had been warned about Sergei's predilection for anal intercourse, but she made sure that she got her vagina stuffed first. She straddled Sergei as he reclined on the bed, after having brought his penis to a full erection by her sucking and chewing, and guided it into her vagina. Fuck! It felt so good! Stiff and hard and pumping! Just as a cock should be. Zee supported her weight by placing her hands on Sergei's shoulders and pushing her buttocks up and down, up and down, as Sergei pushed up and down himself, so that each inward thrust was that much deeper and that much more urgent.

And soon, after having fallen off the lounger and onto the lawn, Sergei was able to penetrate the orifice of his choice. That dick of his! Already big enough to fill a cunt as slippery wet and willing as Zee's. It was a much tighter fit now as he pushed into the smaller less elastic hole at the rear, parting her buttocks with his thumbs, and pushing and thrusting. And all the while grunting and snorting. While Zee's own cries were throatier, more urgent, louder, and more passionate. Where was this passion coming from? Why was she feeling so excited? Zee decided that it must have been as a result of seeing Anastasia and her family make love together the night before, but they weren't intervening in Zee's lovemaking with Sergei. It was as if they had decided that the two should get to know each other exclusively. But Zee was conscious of Anastasia and her parents busying themselves around the garden, and observing her and her fucking on occasion with a kind of semi-detached interest.

Zee didn't really notice the start of the party or the guests arriving. In fact, her evening seemed to be an unending sequence of sexual encounters all in the large expanse of Anastasia's garden. There was little pause between partners. Just enough time to drink, smoke or pop a pill. Zee was certainly a very popular guest. Her black skin, her enormous bush of thick curly hair, there wasn't a guest who didn't want at least a taste of it. Zee's arse was penetrated again. Dicks queued up to penetrate her vagina. There was a splatter of semen on her chest. Both men and women, boys and girls, took advantage of her body. And Zee was more than up for it. Her body was one hot, perspiring, sex-smelling, slippery mass of black love flesh. She rolled around on the grass in a huddle of bodies. At one stage, Anastasia rejoined her friend. At another time, there was Anastasia's mother. But most of the other men who fucked her or the women who licked, sucked and chewed her: Zee had absolutely no idea who they were. Often she didn't even see their faces. Just their genitals, breasts and the intimate details of their bodies.

But Zee was not a sexual athlete. However hot she was, (and she guessed that some of the drugs she'd had made her even hotter), she didn't have the stamina for too many hours of passion. She tired, no longer really enjoying the sex. She let the last dick come inside her and then slumped exhausted on the grass, closing her legs as a sign that shop was shut up for the moment. But although her physical strength was exhausted, she was still in a heightened state of arousal. She lay on the ground with her friend, Anastasia who was naked and hot herself.

It was then that she noticed Themira. Well, there was no mistaking that naked white flesh with the shaved head. She was roped up in a most uncomfortable position, and was surrounded by several men, none of whom she recognised. Not that it was at all unlikely that she'd only recently enjoyed sex with one or all of them. There were two dicks poking at Themira's face, one person was thrusting into her vagina from the front, and Zee could see that another dick was penetrating her anus from underneath. Zee had never seen that kind of multiple sex orgy on one person before, although it was quite possible that moments ago she herself had been the centre of a similar number of male admirers. However, it was obvious that Themira was not enjoying this attention at all. Her eyes were red. There were streaks of tears down her cheeks. Her face was also splattered by thick creamy splotches of what Zee could only assume was semen.

"Do you like what you see?" wondered Anastasia, nonchalantly sipping from her glass.

"What do you mean?" Zee wondered.

"The slave. Do you like what you see? The bitch is having a bit of fun now. But she can't enjoy herself too much. She has to be punished again soon."

"It doesn't look like it's much fun for her at the moment."

"Fuck! Zee! It's no different to the sex you were enjoying a moment ago. If you enjoyed it, then why wouldn't she?"

"It's different. It's a question of choice."

"Is choice a privilege or a curse, Zee? Our little slave doesn't have to do fucking anything except do what we tell her to. Anyway, it looks like her friends are finishing now. And look! Our little slave's been a little tardy in licking the shit off that dick. She's gonna get it now."

Zee watched with Anastasia's arms around her as Themira was roughly tied to a steel frame by cords, her arms and legs spread out to the four corners. Weights were tied to the rings in her nipples and her vagina, which must have added to the discomfort she was experiencing. In fact, Zee was sure that 'discomfort' was too weak a word to describe the pain the slave was suffering. Her head drooped down helplessly. Her eyes stared out. A blank, bitter, almost unseeing gaze.

Then Anastasia's naked father strode up to the girl, with a penis no longer fully erect but which he stroked with one hand. In the other hand he was carrying what looked like a cane. It was a long length of flexible wood with a curved handle. Did such things really exist? Zee wondered. Then Anastasia's father addressed the guests.

"As you have no doubt had the pleasure of seeing or even enjoying directly, our sluttish slave here has had the honour and privilege of providing you with her services all evening. It is now the time to decide whether she has served you well. She has been fucked and sucked and buggered for many hours now. Has she provided a good quality of service? Or do you think she should be punished for her shoddiness, her lack of willingness and her general sluttishness? How do you vote?"

Zee watched with morbid fascination as the guests trotted out reasons why Themira should be punished: reasons that really didn't seem at all credible to Zee. She had not expressed gratitude after sucking shit off a penis. She had objected to having a guest piss in her mouth. She had not smiled when a guest squirted his semen into her eyes.

"In that case," Anastasia's father announced, "our slave deserves to be whipped. And I think it's only right that my daughter's visitor from the distant Earth orbit should be given that opportunity."

"Ooh! That's you, Zee!" said Anastasia excitedly. "Come on, Zee! Give the slut what she deserves."

"What? Me? I can't do that! It's wrong. I can't hit someone else."

"Do you want Father to do it? He'll beat the girl so hard she'll bleed. He can get really brutal."

"It's still wrong."

"If you don't do it, someone else will. Someone with less compassion than you. If you worry about hurting the girl, do it yourself. Then you can temper your blows. Keep them on the soft side of vicious."

Zee was not convinced, but Anastasia's coaxing and that of the other guests pulled her onto her feet. She wandered unsteadily over to Anastasia's father, hardly able to focus on anything or anyone. She was still disorientated by all the sex and drugs and drink she'd had. Semen coated her pubic hairs and the top of her thighs. There was dried sticky semen on her cheeks and chin. She took the cane that was proffered and held it awkwardly in her hands. It was long and flexible. She flexed it slightly. It was made of real wood. Not plastic.

"What do I do?"

"You slap her, of course," Anastasia's father said. "You bring it back like this, " he drew back his arm in demonstration, "and then thwack it sharply like this." He brought his arm forward with a pretend swing, like someone demonstrating how to use a tennis racquet. "Thwock!"

Zee was still very unsure. She wandered over to Themira, tied up with her head drooping. She was clearly suffering from the strain of being strung up in this totally unnatural way. Zee put her face towards the girl. It didn't look very pretty now. There was thick scabs of dried semen caked onto her cheeks and her forehead. Snot was running from her nostrils and streaming down into her mouth, and off the end of her chin to drop on her breasts. Her eyes were red and raw, but there were no tears now. Plenty of streaky evidence that she'd been crying, though.

"I don't want to do this, you know," she whispered to the girl.

Themira raised her head and looked at Zee with a pleading expression. Her voice was soft and croaking. "Then please don't do it, miss. Please don't. I've suffered so much."

"But I have to, Themira. If I don't, then someone else will. And they'll be brutal. And cruel."

"And you aren't, miss?" asked the girl in a weak almost inaudible voice. "You're no different if you beat me. You're just the same as the others. Just a lot more sanctimonious!"

Fuck! That hurt. Totally out of order. Zee had tried to express sympathy to the bald, filthy slut, and the girl was so insolent. Red anger boiled in Zee's eyes. She stood back with the cane and slapped Themira's buttocks with it. The cane whistled through the air and hit the buttocks with a reassuring crack. Themira's body shivered and shook with the pain, and she struggled in vain against the cords that tied her and held her in place. She gave vent to a sharp cry. Something like the cry of an orgasm, but sharper and louder.