Slave Immigrant Ch. 27

"He did break the law," growled a voice behind him.

"My Minister of Justice is correct," he added, "you did break the law."

"What law," I gasped, "how did I break the law."

"Remember your citizenship test," he said solemnly, "the minute you feel an illness coming on you must contact EMS. Your bodyguard repeatedly told you to contact them and what did you say."

Flashback: "Oh fuck the Ambulance," I half coughed. Oh crap, I'm in the shit-hole now. "So what do I do now," I had to ask. "And what's with this place?"

"Your Earth DNA fought the poison, and the poison fought back," he concluded. "You now have a very contagious virus inside you. We are going to have to run test, cure you, and make sure you are not a carrier of the disease. So it will be about two weeks."

"Two weeks floating in Jello?"

"Jello," asked the Minister. Prince Otto on the other hand doubled over with laugher and the doctors who were in haz-sat, (hazardous environment,) suit ran to check him. The Prince waved them off.

"Ahh no," said the Prince as he contained his laughing fit, "only a day or two. Look we'll be back when they take you out of the Jello and this curious diaper," he added holding up what looked like a vacuumed tube. An odd face-mask was place over my face and the world went blank, however I could still hear the Prince and his Minister talking to each other.

"Sir," snapped the Minister, "we have to brand him a 'Silly Slave' he will have to be publically punished and he must agree to keep up the charade that this is an isolated incident while we track down this terrorist cell."

"He'll do that and more," Prince Otto calmed him. "Besides technically he's my Eighth Cousin, he knows his duty."

Eighth Cousin?!?

*

"Well," snapped Uncle Paul as he looked down at me through a clear window. Behind him was Cupcake, Mistress Dianna, Master Charles, and even Amadeus Paul was there too. "EXPLAIN," he demanded.

"Opps," I sighed. I was sitting in a wheel-chair, I-V tube in my arm, a clear diaper with a catheter in my penis and I could feel one up my ass. They gave me nothing to wear except for my bonded slave collar. "I," I paused, "I bumped into some courier guy and crushed his flowers."

"You idiot," he cursed back at me. "Don't you know how to walk through a crowd. I can't afford to have a limo take you about the city! They say you are going to be tied up in this hospital for another two weeks."

"I'm sorry," I said automatically as I tried to think of an explanation.

"The patient is tiring," boomed a voice from above.

"I just woke up," I snapped back. Uncle Paul shrugged and walked away.

"Al," said Dianna as she and Charles move to the window, "you have to get better, Mandy shut down and well, we're a mess without you."

"I talked to your Manager," added Charles, "we got you a lawyer and we should get you off with just a small fine. No problems." The two moved away.

"Hey Al," smiled Amadeus, "I just moved in with Marcy." He opened his shirt collar and showed off a metal collar. "I'm her new slave, and they made me a Switcher Operator for your shows. Ouch," Cupcake swatted him on the ass moving him away from the window.

"Hey Mister Jones," she giggled, "I'm getting lessons from Mister Mike. Uncle Paul has me work as his personal aid when he's in the studio. The Sex Ed show is now a half hour long and come the new year we will be on the air. You're the Executive Producer. You'll get paid even if you are not there." She quickly moved aside as Uncle Paul stepped in front of the window.

"You're starting to cheese me off," he snapped back. "When this is all over," he warned, "I just might have to take you to my bedroom. And you will get the cane when you get back to the office," he added.

"Visitation over."

The window went dark and somebody wheeled me away from the window. "Now that was easy," said a doctor in a Haz-mat suit. "Your friends are very impatient, the drugs would have worn off if they waited."

"They have time schedules," I mumbled as he helped me on to my bed. The tubes up my ass and cock were connected to a machine on the floor. "Is all this necessary?"

"Oh very," said Prince Otto as he strode about the room. The Prince was wearing a powder blue uniform with medical insignia and not a Haz-mat suit.

"You immune to me," I asked.

"No," he smiles as he touched the table and a flair of energy flashed and surrounded him for a moment. "I have a talent for generating my own personal energy field. So no germs can get in. I can hold this for fifteen minutes. So let's talk. Being ex-military even a Reservist you know the importance of secrets, so we can be honest with each other."

"Yes sir," I nodded.

"You obviously broke the law in not calling EMS or an ambulance, so I guess we're going to go with that. The re-action to the exotic flowers, we can sum that up to Earth DNA, we can hide that too. As for the courier, well, he was found dead in a trash compactor. The people who killed him died of a drug-overdose, which lead us to a drug-house that caught fire in the raid on the place. All not connected, we'll hide the files for about five years. Anybody who accuses you of a cover-up, well you can point to the whipping you publicly got and ask to cover that up."

"Public whipping," I asked.

"We'll be lenient on the fine."

"Fine!"

"Ten percent of the use of the hospital and research facilities. This is a totally new virus we are dealing with here. So I turn it into a research paper, and test how fast we can deal with a new disease. Interestingly enough you are sixty-two point eight percent Ancient. Many of the Bonded Earthmen are below forty percent. So as you can see we are breaking new ground here."

"Then you should be thanking me, for all this research not fining me."

"We can't tell the public about all this testing," explained Prince Otto, "all they want is that you were cured and the disease will no longer spread. They find out we're testing and the next thing you know somebody accuses us of cultivating a biogenic weapon."

"Are you?"

"We don't," he told me flatly, "we don't fight that way simple. Now, let's talk about Fanta, you wanted her to find you some real information on Heredshe right?"

"Okay, yea."

"Well you'll need to learn High Middle Kingdom," he pointed to a table where DNA/RNA teaching equipment sat. "You can take 4 hours of lessons a day, and have the language down you can read that book." He pointed to a large leather bound book that sat on a table on the other side of another window. "It was written by my Grandfather Alexander. He was a Spirit Wizard. He could step outside his body and move about with nobody seeing him but he can observe. He spent ten years at our Embassy on Heredshe long before we accepted them into the Coalition. From those notes you will find lots of information on the Heredshe."

"Thank you," was about all I could say.

"We have an on-going series of observations," continued Otto, "next week, I did say you will be here for two weeks. Next week you will need to learn Middle Kingdom Common."

"Why Common," I had to ask.

"Grandfather Alexander made his observations one hundred years ago," he explained. "The Middle Kingdom has always had a Commerce Embassy on Heredshe. The second electronic book is observations and deployments since the first contact. Some are done by Spirit Walkers, your TV show is about Heredshe today, not old Heredshe when the Male population was enslaved to their female families. They are suppose to be free citizens, but you will see."

"Why are you doing this, cousin?"

"Cousin," he smiled, "because I think the truth can set people free. And I want you to get out of Bondage, looks bad on the family."

"You can always shrug me off as Johnass's son."

"He didn't have any sons," Otto paused as his shields flared, "he would have seen you as an enemy and had you killed the minute you showed any sign of empathy towards people. I have to run, look just do what you have to do. I'm sorry you did break the law."

"I'm not a silly slave."

"It's a nice label to hide behind when you screw up. But you get punished all the same. Just don't do it again. When you sneeze call EMS."

"Yes sir," I sighed feeling tired.

*

"Hey Al," smiled Amadeus who walked about the visiting room, "how ya doing. Look I can't sit down, Mistress Marcy really put me through my paces this morning. We finished shooting the first four shows of the Sex Ed Show, ah man, I never thought would get the cane twelve times. Twelve cuts, ouch! All the time I was bent over a desk, I didn't even scream."

"Well if she caned you yesterday," I had to ask, "why can't you sit down today?"

"She put irritant strips in my panties," he whined, "whenever I sit down it hurts. She says I spend too much time sitting around at work. As an inter I have to be on my feet to run and fetch things." He gently sat down in the chair. "Oh," he groaned. "Fine I'm sitting. Here, he passed a memory-stick through a sanitizer to me. Uncle Paul wants you to view these show and make comments. How much longer will you in isolation?"

"One week," I sighed, "then off to public court. I've been watching the trial from my room and giving testimony. It's done, I really screwed up kid. Don't forget I come from another planet and culture. We get sick, we go to work, and we're too insecure. I'm going to get punished, I've been publicly whipped, twenty-four actually. I can take it, even go to work a couple crying hours later. My Manager is more worried about the fine, they could wipe me out and add more years to my Bondage."

"Ah man that sucks," he sighed, "but hey you don't mind being owned by us do you?"

"I have to ask to masturbate," I told him, "do you have to do that? Before you became Mistress Marcy's slave."

"No," he groaned, "she's got me in cock bondage. And because I'm still a sex-a-terry I still get fucked, and have my ass played with during breaks. And I don't know what Uncle is going to say when he sees these panties. Every day he's pulled them down and inspected me. He won't say anything, just how often, did it hurt, and be a good boy. He would pat me on the bum and then tell me to do some errand."

"Cock bondage," I sighed feeling aroused and wet inside my diaper. "And I'm dying for sex. Even your cock is long enough to go up my ass and stroke my clit to make me cum."

"Really?"

"I'm fucking horny you little pervert," I snarled. "Ahh, yea even a chubby like you looks good right now."

"I've been working out too you know," he got huffy and paces about while trying to appear non-chalant as he adjusted his irritant panties. "Mistress Marcy has me work out twice a day. Her servants shower and bath me. I haven't been able to touch myself for over a week."

"You're touching yourself now," I told him. That stopped him dead in his tracks. "I'd be remiss in my duties as a friend to not let her know you were touching your ass."

"Oh please don't," he begged falling to his knees at the window. "Please, please, when you get out of here I'll talk Uncle into having be your fuck-boy, I mean Sex-a-terry. I'll suck your might cock and swallow your cum, you can spank and play with my ass whenever you want to."

"Will you wipe my ass after I take a shit," I asked him.

"Yes sir," he gasped, "and kiss it too."

"Well too bad," I said as a nurse in a Haz-mat suit directed me to my bed and put my feet in stirrups. I was hoisted up and the messy diaper came off. "We could use you right now."

"Yuck," he gagged. "What the hell is that?"

"I've had uncontrolled diarrhea ever since I came in here," I explained. "And some form of diaper-rash, hurts like hell too. This is not normal either. My crap is hazardous material too. So you see, I spend lots of my time on my side or stomic."

"Visiting time is over," boomed the Voice from Above.

"I have to go," sighed Amadeus as he awkwardly walked out on three inch heels.

"Amadeus," I called, and he looked back. "Take your weight off your heels. Walk on your toes, rest on heels, you'll get better and your legs will look good." He nodded and shrugged as he walked on his toes and moved a little more graceful.

*

"Now class," teacher Marcy addressed the studio audience, "trust is the most important element in any kind of relationship."

"And with that we have to pause for this fine sponsor," interrupted Cham Smart the announcer.

"How many times to I have to tell you not to interrupt me," snapped Marcy as her cane landed with a dull thud across his bottom. Cham's reaction seemed slow and fake. "What are you wearing under that skirt," she demanded.

"Why nothing," he smiles and mugged the audience who half laughed. He clung to his podium which had a teleprompter and computer screen with instructions from the director.

"What's this," cried Marcy who lifted his skirt revealing a pair of padded fake bums that covered his bottom with padding.

"Make-up Department insisted on that," he explained quickly, "said my bottom didn't have enough shape to it."

"We did not," said a hard voice from off stage.

"I see," snapped Marcy who drew a switchblade from out of nowhere and cut the fake bottom off his body. "What's this," she added pulling on a black thong that stretched so much he was on his toes.

"Nobody wants to see my cock and ball," he whined.

"We'll decide that," she snapped as the thong was cut off his body. A mini-camera hidden under the podium showed his rising hard-on. A couple whacks of the teaching cane made it go limp. "That's better," Marcy smiled at the camera. "We now pause for a message from our sponsor."

A card came up place commercial here, as Marcy joked with the audience at Cham's expense. He on the other hand remained submissive and frightened of her and Mike. I watched the rest of the show and quickly made notes. The other shows were the same, there was no way it could be kept to fifteen minutes and it would take creative editing to shorten the show to thirty.

I checked the rest of the shows on file and all of them could be reduced to a thirty minute broadcast including commercials. Occasionally I had to pause for a coughing fit and dealing with my dickey stomach. I posted a memo that the shows should be kept at thirty minutes but a complete un-edited version should be made available on a pay-per-view specialty, as well as keeping any footage we have left-over, interviews, discussions, and that sort of stuff aside for Digital Sales of some sort.

Even from my sick-bed in the hospital I was still working.