Slave Immigrant Ch. 20

"Crap," snarled Uncle Paul, "he was talking to a ghost."

"Okay let's say he is," said Prince Otto, "that means he has talent you will be stuck with paying off his bond. Worse still we might have to re-examine all the Earth/Ancient Bonded Slaves. I believe in two days the Boom-boom Room will be getting thirty more. Do you know what kind of an expense that is? More than that, I'm the only Talent of my staff of one hundred and twenty who can see Ghost. You want me to interview every Earth Bonded Sex Slave? Do you want to pay for my time."

"No sir," said Uncle Paul, "but, what can we do?"

"Do you trust me?"

"If you can't trust a Clairvoyant Governor who can you trust?" Everybody in the room agreed.

"Fine, Liza Metallica," said Otto to a business woman in a pink silk suit. "You technician gave Mister Jones an injection designed for an Ancient, it that true."

"Yes, you're Excellency," she said handing a ram-stick to a Criminal Technician, "here is a security records." We all paused to watch a full video with audio.

"Miss Monica Ballvah," said Otto, looking at Mistress Cupcake. "You realize how much trouble you are in?"

"Me," she said.

"Do you know the difference between sixty-two point eight and one hundred."

"I don't understand."

"You nearly killed Mister Jones by giving bad information. I fine you one million credits." He pounded on the table, "case closed."

"One million," cried Mistress Cupcake, "I don't have one million credits."

"As a representative of the Boom-boom Room," said Marcy McDermott, "we will take up that bond."

"Wait a second," said Uncle Paul, "she is the daughter of a good friend of mine. I wish to take up the bond."

"That's a matter for the Commissioner to take care of," said Prince Otto. He lead the three of us to the elevator. "Try not to let it worry you okay."

"Yes sir," I said.

"Look," said Charles, "it's an honour that you came here to see us."

"I'm sorry you're so overworked and all," said Dianna.

"Me too," sighed Prince Otto, "by the way my secretary never misses a show Miss Dianna, she thinks you're a great actress."

"Why thank you," she smiled as the elevator door closed.

*

Much later Prince Otto told me what happened after the door closed. He turned and saw the lone ghost of Marty standing in the elevator foyer. To him Marty was still young with bullet holes in his old style combat fatigues, and looked very pissed off.

"So eventually he will be able to see me," Marty asked him.

"He will, eventually," he mentally communicated to the ghost. "You have to realize that we changed his body by adding our DNA to his. He now has a genius IQ, can run three miles a day and not get tired. Just let him enjoy his sexual freedom, he may need these memories for the trying times to come."

"What kind of trying times," asked Marty?

"We're at war, and we need everybody we can find."

*

I didn't even remember the trip home or going to bed. Charles and Dianna were met by Mandy who carried me to my room. By law I had to have my own room and Dianna converted a guest room into the slave's quarters. A bunk-bed that she purchased from an auction of used military ship parts, was at one time a real bunk bed used by space marines. She felt they had a nice prison ship flavour to them. So too was the rest of the furniture which she felt would be dull, uncreative, and make you want to be any place but here. I didn't mind it.

Charles sat at a pedestal chair near my bed watching me, fidgeting and biting his nails. Mandy was in an alcove or closet space of some sort standing motionless but watching. Dianna was horny, she paced about the apartment stopping by my open door to see if I was awake.

"He's awake Master Charles," Mandy finally spoke. "He's probably pretending to sleep and get some more rest. He's being naughty."

"You faker," laughed Charles as he pressed on my Chastity Belt's back plate and forced something huge further into me. "He's been awake for some time," he told Dianna.

"Approximately two minutes," said Mandy.

"What is this," I asked, as I struggled in my restraints. Magnetic shackles on my wrist, below the elbows, ankles, and below the knees forcing me into a kneeling submissive position with knees as far apart as possible. Once the chastity belt would be taken off I was ready for buggering.

"We didn't want you struggling when we took out the medical cone," said Mistress Dianna. "You got it," she asked Charles.

"Oh yea," he chuckled as I felt him fumbling and removing something wide and huge out of my ass. "A little goopy here." There was the sweet smell of ham filling the room.

"Oh you didn't," I cursed.

"I hate fumbling with lube," said Charles offering two dripping wet finger to my mouth. I obediently sucked them clean. This was different, a sweet ham taste.

"What is that," I had to ask.

"New designer Heredshe male glands," said Mistress Dianna, as she smiled down at me. "Former Mistress Cupcake was asked what flavour, she said sweet. Good thing they didn't show the selection, she might have chosen peppermint."

"I thought bubble gum was amusing," laughed Charles as the last of it came out. "Ahh," he smiled, "see a little bit of blood where the new nerve endings are."

"Nerve ending," I asked.

"You now have a set of nerve endings similar to a female clitoris in your rectal tract," laughed Charles.

"Not much different from mine," said Mistress Dianna thrusting her vagina in my face. "Free Skyes women can cum rather quickly compared to your Earth Female slaves. No wonder they are always begging for more."

"Or having Free Skyes Female clitorises added to their own," added Charles. "The Body Shop is making good business." He took the rest of the chastity belt off me and the shackles released. "Turn over and lift your legs into the diaper position."

"Ouch," I grumbled, "what time is it? Do I have to go to bed, can't I use the bathroom?"

"It's early Saturday morning, 10AM," explained Mandy. "You just had an anal operation we want to make sure there is no leakage. So tighten those ass muscles of your up. Besides I bet you are hungry."

"I know I am," said Charles, he caught a look from Mistress Dianna. "Mistress," he added. That's when I noticed Charles was naked except for his chastity belt. He also had some noticeable welts on his red swollen ass.

"Mistress, did Charles do something wrong," I respectfully asked as I got out of the cot and adjusted the plastic pants.

"I caught him trying to stick his dick in your mouth while you slept last night. So we agreed he will be in chastity for a week. Even when he is in-charge."

"How can a guy be in charge when in a chastity belt," I asked.

"You'll find out," he smiled and stroked my cheek. "Come on," he patted me on the bum and we followed Mistress Dianna to the kitchen.

Mistress Dianna and Charles preferred eating in the kitchen. The table was made of a sturdy wood with four matching wooden chairs. The chairs had hard seats except for one which had a cushion that had embroidered on it, "I'm in charge." Dianna sat on it. Mandy served a balanced home cooked breakfast to us. Charles and I had slave ration porridge, but with twelve grain toast with lots of butter, and a bowel of assorted toast toppers. Fruit juice, and Mandy's blend of coffee, which taste like coffee to me, but it claims is health. Mistress Dianna had a full breakfast of various items Mandy made for her.

"Well this looks very healthy," said Mistress Dianna, "we usually have leftover doughnuts."

"I recycled them with more wholesome ingredients," snapped Mandy. "What you two have been eating is okay by me. But I have to report to the Board of Bonded Labourers Health about what you feed Mister Jones here. You two should be publicly whipped." This made the two of them chokes on their meal. "Besides," it added, "I went over your household budget; you two are overspending, over eating, over indulging, and will probably be bankrupt in a few months. Then your Uncle Paul can re-possess Mister Jones and I'll be making him breakfast."

"Can he do that," asked Charles.

"Why would we be whipped," asked Dianna.

"For promoting bad health of a slave," explained Mandy. "Earthmen can get fat so easy. And you two are putting on the pounds too."

"Alright," snapped Charles, "the android's right we have been a little lazy. I surrender, what next we move to a smaller condo, or an apartment?"

"Neither," snapped Mandy, "you just eat what I prepair you folks and I'll manage the budget. Everything coming in, including your dressing room Mistress Dianna will now be checked by me. Free samples, gift baskets, gifts, we can either use, re-cycle, or donate to charity. Throwing out trash is not efficient."

"So what happened to our doughnuts," asked Charles.

"I mashed them into your porridge," said Mandy. I pounded on the table with laughter, no wonder the porridge tasted so good.

"So I get to eat the nice stuff," said Mistress Dianna as she popped a piece of sweet fruit into her mouth.

"No," corrected Mandy, "I overheard you two talking about who the cushion goes to. He or she who is in charge gets the nice food. Slaves and submissives get their portion. If you want a special meal consult with me first. Now tell Mister Pontiac the arrangements."

"Well," sighed Mistress Dianna, "okay."

"Hey I can taste the doughnuts in this," said Charles who was more interested in eating.

"Charles," snapped Mistress Dianna, "the arrangement."

"Okay," said Charles. "Al, can I call you that. Pontiac has too many syllables and Mister Jones sounds like a teacher about to give me the belt."

"Al's fine with me."

"Okay," we shook hands, "pal. Sunday, last day of the week. We need to rest and not make decisions, no stress. You're in charge, fuck us, spank us, get the stress out of us. Make us rest. You're in charge, read our profiles, you and Mandy helping you are in charge."

"So I get stressed," I chuckled, "by not stressing you two. Okay, by me."

"Monday, Tuesday and Wednesdays are mine," said Charles. "And I do like playing with boy's young bums, namely yours. I also like seeing my wife get satisfied, so you'll be fucking her while I play with your bottom. You should have hid that spank/fuck thing."

"Thursday, Friday, and especially Saturday night parties are mine," said Mistress Dianna. "We're even having some guest over tonight. Can we afford that?"

"Only once a month," said Mandy. "Unless you want to serve the guest slave food, we have plenty of that. Including Slave Beer; I know Master Charles will not enjoy that."

"Why's that," said Charles as he spread jam on his toast.

"One sip and you're a walking hard-on," I told him. "It's embarrassing," I looked at Mistress Dianna, "I shouldn't have said that." I sighed doing my best Robbie Coltrane.

"Oh crap," sighed Charles, then to me, "she would have found out sooner or later."

"They send me two cases every week," I gagged.

"I use a small amount of it in the coffee," added Mandy. "His meal supplements and free sample can easily be a part of the household budget."

"Well that makes sense," I added, "the stuff would only go bad."

"Speaking of going bad," asked Mandy, "what is with the container of red bananas in your closet."

"Ouch," I mumbled, then speaking up, "I was going to explain to you Mandy, but I guess my owners should know. They are the raw version of the red anal lube that well itches and excites a submissive. However I've only see these bananas being inserted up Ancient's bottoms, they don't eat them only grow harvest and use for sexual activities. I'm not sure how the react to humans. I know they hurt me like hell, can't shit them out, ass on fire, only way out is to have some of the guys fuck and mash it out. Sort of an Ancient party joke."

"Sound interesting," said Mistress Dianna as she smiled at Charles, "want to slip one up his ass before you fuck him?"

"I'm not sure if they are good for humans," I quickly explained. "I don't want to have Master Charles have to go to the hospital with a fruit taken through customs from a Diplomatic Ship."

"Diplomatic Ship," panicked Charles, "you haven't been smuggling dangerous good."

"So that's what happened during the week I was shut down," assessed Mandy.

"Wait a second," I said, "maybe Mandy can covertly analyze these red bananas first. No need to jump to conclusion."

"Maybe we should interrogate Mister Jones here about the missing week," continued Mandy.

"That's between me Mistress Jane Speedwell, he fuck buddies, her Grandfather, and the ship's computer," I added. "Which you almost every sentient machine talk to all the time."

"We do not talk," snapped Mandy imperiously, "merely exchange information so that we can better take care of our owners."

"Speaking of owners," I had to ask, "What happened to Cupcake. She must be in a terrible situation owing a million credit fine."

"Unless she can find a way of earning her keep," laughed Mistress Dianna, "she'll be Uncle Paul's personal house slave till she's twenty-five."

"That's terrible," I snapped, "poor girl like that being owned by that horny old man. When is she going to be like a kid, have fun with her friends and all?"

"Oh Uncle Paul has that figured out," chuckled Charles. "I'll be working on that Monday. A few other networks are working on this one, a live action BDSM show. It will be about a group of teenagers much like Cupcake sent to a Free Zone finishing school. Plenty of girls in plaid skirts, down the knickers action. Of course there will be a boys side to the school. And if you don't pull up your socks as a Sex-a-terry you may have an acting job too."

"Me," I choked on my toast.

"As one of the boys," he laughed, "you do look the part."

"More like a late teenager," smiled Dianna. "So let's clean house, we have a party tonight."