Slave Immigrant Ch. 29

After receiving a cloned body I was immigrated 127 Light Years from Earth to Free Skyes. Unfortunately I had to work and pay for that cloned body and I had very few skills a high tech society could use. So it was either I become an Unskilled Labourer or a Sex Slave. In the end I guess Human Recourses had figured me out correctly. All those years in BDSM chat-rooms and websites were tracked alright, but not by Homeland Security. I was a 24/7 Bonded Sex Slave with a 5 million credit debt to pay off. Worse still I didn't have any say on how or what I would be doing, I wasn't a citizen. After taking a Citizenship Test all that changed. I had choices and options, by remaining a slave/citizen I paid about 2 million back through earned commissions as a prostitute and sales of Slave Beer. But my own Earth style of living got the better of me, I caught a cold and instead of calling EMS, I went along and kept working. Bad move, I got fined and am now back to owing 5 million again. At least I have nice owners.

My owner Dianna Chase instructed me to dominate her that evening. She wanted to stay wet and horny in order to keep in character for tomorrow. So I gave her a dose of humiliation, fed her and tied her to a chair while I made love to her husband. I left the two of them in their master bed in chastity, and in an exhausted sleep. For some reason I couldn't sleep just yet. I went to the bathroom to wash my face, looked up and saw myself.

For some reason I thought I would see myself in my 30's looking back at me. What a shock; it was me at sixteen looking back at me. Full head of hair, not even the slightest of a receding hair line, and a buff physic. There was a set of six-pack abs looking at me. I never had a six-pack of abs, beer gut from time to time, but not a six-pack.

"What happened to you," I said to my reflection.

"You're growing into your part Ancient body," reminded Mandy my training android.

"You knew this was going to happen," I asked it.

"Only projections," responded the machine built in a humanoid forum. Soft cyber-skin body that had an almost human feel and a limited range of facial expressions characteristic of most androids but still a beautiful body. Mandy was programmed by a master android programmer and its main function was to make sure I was kept in very good health. "It would take time for you to develop into your proper potential," it explained, "most Ancients only need between four to six hours of sleep. This is why you kind is often recruited to serve in the Military."

"I've done soldiering before," I told it. "It was a fun adventure, but too boring and too many incompetents running it."

"The Coalition is not controlled by incompetents," Mandy snapped. "I'm sorry," it apologised, "a programmed response. Can I explain?"

"Go ahead," this was interesting.

"The big difference between the Coalition and your planets is that we have Talents," it explained. "Our world leaders have more than a think tank of scientist, religious morality, and businessmen behind them. We have people who are Clairvoyant, and Telepathy. A Clairvoyant can see into the future, where a Telepath can feel the thoughts and emotions of the population. As much as we try, there are no easy solutions, and we learn from our mistakes."

"I know," I sighed feeling the peeling healing tape on my ass. They had a strict rule that when you feel sick call an EMS immediately. On Earth we go to work with head colds all the time because if we lose work we lose money. I ended up in isolation for two weeks, was fined the costs of all expenses and then publically caned till I was bloody to remind me.

"Why did they recruit me," I asked, "why not just die in the hospital?"

"The only answer I was programmed with was that there is a personnel shortage," explained the android. "We're at war and people from, dare I say; primitive cultures. Make the best recruits."

"What if I don't want to be a soldier," I had to ask.

"You can run a successful business," said the android with a smile and a shrug, "pay taxes to feed the war. Who cannot say you are not already helping us?"

"Great," I sighed and headed into my bedroom. At first I considered it to be a kid's room and I guess it suited me. Old style computer built into a computer desk moulded together. Bunk beds, the lower was wider than the top. A poster of Jane Speedwell almost naked sporting guns, ammo belts, and knives on the wall; she was definitely hot. "And she wants to marry me," I sighed.

"No," corrected Mandy, "she will marry you. Which means you do have a choice, just that you will probably want to marry her some day?"

"Now that is serious," I said to it. "Marriage out here means a very solid commitment. Dianna and Charles want to get married, but they still don't have approval. What am I to them?"

"A fuck-buddy," said Mandy blankly. "Us androids are seen and yet unseen. The two speak freely in front of me. They see themselves as mentors, friends, and fuck-buddies. They even half dread that Uncle Paul will probably want to keep you as a sex slave for a while. And don't forget, as property of the company he can pass you about like some hospitality slave to fuck and please the clients."

"Really," I asked feeling slightly aroused.

"The problem is," said Mandy as it towered over me, "you'd probably enjoy it." It fell on top of me in a sudden rush. My hands were shackled in front of me and to my neck. Legs shackled wide apart, I was naked on the bed facing up.

"Why did you do that?"

"To keep you from masturbating all night."

"Well what if I have to go pee?"

"Don't!"

"And if I have an accident?"

"I will take the bandages off your ass," Mandy explained as it moved against the wall. "Then turn you over to Master Charles and tell him you deliberately wet the bed because you want to be in Diaper Bondage again."

"You stink," I cursed as I closed my eyes and tried to go to sleep.

*

For the next two weeks life went back to normal. Daylight hours working at the station handling one emergency after another. Show's had to be edited, longer, shorter, don't put a Pepsi Commercial next to a Coke Commercial. Send a memo to Master Control to keep the machinery maintained, if a commercial closed two seconds too fast the client will demand free time. Meanwhile the papers went through for a live Real Time channel, the Naughty School channel will go through. Over a dozen small stations catering to various Free Zones invested in the channel, I was nervous.

At least Uncle Paul liked my idea about hiring Amanda and Mike as teachers. But I knew that a 24/7 reality channel will have its problems. I kept quiet. Over a dozen independent stations across the planet who had their own Free Zone channels had invested into the project. Then Uncle Paul sent me down to Master Control and see how the real work was done.

Deep in the basement of the Ringo Building was Master Control. We stepped out of the elevator into the subterranean world of the Master Control. The air had an artificial tang to it as if heavy air fresheners were used to cover some odd smell. The staffs were very casual, nudity, and bondage was everywhere. Uncle Paul was in his usual business suit, while I was still in my mind cross-dressing by wearing the upper half of a man's suit. Lower half, stilettos, stockings held by a garter belt lace panties and mini-skirt that matched my suit jacket.

"We don't let the sponsors down here," Uncle Paul explained. "Or it they insist we give them a half hour to clean up. You familiar with this kind of equipment?"

"Well looks like triple redundant broadcast units," I answered nodding to a group of old style computers. "How do you store the shows, RAM-Sticks?"

"Very good," smiled Uncle Paul. "These little sticks work best, we could go smaller but they become hard to find. Even with RAM-Sticks they can still get lost." He pointed to another room where a couple techs worked various monitors. "This is our live camera colour balance room. Say as you want with computers, the human eye is best at this job. The rest of the live news shows are directed in the news control room."

"Just like back home," I noted, then looked through the window to the Control Room. Both staff members were naked except for bulky white diapers and plastic pants. "Let me guess," I asked, "no bathroom breaks?"

"It helps them stay focused," he added with a pat on my bottom.

"Oh," I groaned.

"Sorry but you spent your vacation time in Medical Prison," said Uncle Paul sternly. "I'd said I would punish you for all this. Both you and Cupcake have been taking liberties so both of you are going to spend the next two weeks right here."

"Yes sir," I sighed.

"We have sleeping cots," continued Uncle Paul, "a well stocked kitchen, and Mandy will be here making your meals too. Also as company slaves, you will both be allotted time work as Courtesans to the staff. Meet their sexual needs, and keep up their moral."

"Do they usually have Courtesans here," I had to ask.

"Nope," smiled Uncle Paul as he reached under my skirt and gave my bottom a familiar squeeze. "This is a first out here. You seem to forget you're a company sex slave."

"What about Cupcake?"

"That's private," he snapped with a hard slap and I dropped the subject. He showed me a room that might have been a photocopier room at one time but was now a B&D punishment room. Two women were tormenting a tough-looking guy. "Hi'a Holly," Paul smiled. "Just showing your new temp around."

"Hi Boss," he smiled while the two girls untied him. "Nice legs," he laughed as he looked me over. "Aren't you that new Director everybody's been talking about," he asked me.

"I guess so," I stammered as he reached under my skirt and felt my cock.

"He's also company property," Paul added.

Before I knew it, Holly spun me around and bent me over the spanking-horse. He lifted my skirt and whistled at my sore bottom. The girls giggle as he whistled in approval.

"I see somebody's been a bad boy," he told the room.

"You can be hard him," Paul told them, "just don't break him. He was a trained courtesan from the Boom-Boom Room, but you've seen enough work with his name on it go on the air. He'll be here for two weeks, confined to here and you should keep him naked." The girls giggled. "Just diaper him before he does his daily 4 hour rotation."

"I'd do an extra 4 hours if I can spend say 4 hours in here with him honey," smiled one of the girls who smiled at Uncle Paul.

"That can be arranged," smiled Uncle Paul, "just nobody better get any diaper rash from sitting in Master Control for too long."

"This is going to be interesting," smiled Holly.

*

"I'm not going to give you a spanking today," Dianna repeated as she gave me another kiss on the mouth. "You've been a bad boy so you can spend the next two weeks getting punished here."

"Come on hun," sighed Charles as he nudged her aside. "We have to catch the shuttle to Port Naughty."

Port Naughty was an orbital platform that was intended to be used as a L5 colony base, but the agricultural space was too small, no real manoeuvring jets; so it became a Brothel/Factory. It changed hands several times over but maintained an atmosphere of free sex. Now the gardens have been restored and the place is an orbital sex vacation home. Undoubtedly Charles and Dianna will be picking up visitors at the galactic bars for some interesting times.

"Have a nice time," I smiled back trying to be sincere and not sarcastic. I had surrendered the last of my clothing and eyed the R2D2 unit carry my clothing away. Charles smiled and looked down at my pecker. After all these months he could still make me feel naked in front of him.

"Okay bad boy," said Holly as he held up an adult size diaper in front of me. "Let's get to work."

I spread my legs as he stood beside me and slipped the diaper on. I watched Charles hold Dianna close as the elevator door closed and whisked them off to freedom. Meanwhile I had to deal with the thick bulk between my legs, padded ass and crotch as I stepped into a pair of plastic pants. I felt Holly's hand caress my ass inside the diaper as his finger inserted inside my asshole.

"Nice," he smiled, "your self-lubricating ass will make anal sex rather easy. Is it always this wet down here?"

"Only when I'm excited sir," I gasped as my cock arched against the thick padding.

"Well," he sighed as he pulled his hand out and used a tissue, "try to keep your mind on your work."

He lead me into the control room where a sleepy-eyed operator in a dirty diaper sat. We changed places and I took over. Holly watched me as I went through a station/break program change and seemed content I could do the job. He left me alone as a second operator a guy called Ted came in to work as my second.

For a TV-Addict like me working in Master Control might seem to be a dream job, but it is not. For one thing you can't change the channel if the show sucks; hell your station is putting it on. Second you have to keep track of the commercials. Every time I write a memo about commercials if it can't be written us as a mechicanical accident the operators are going to have some pretty sore butts. However that wasn't the worst of it: seeing my own smiling face at every other commercial break.

It was terrible, seeing myself wincing at every stroke of the cane as well as very colourful close-ups of my fat white ass turning red, and grey from so much bruising. It was bad enough viewing all the sugar coated sappy proto-Christmas stories some of whom have plot-lines stolen from Earth itself. It was confusing to try to decide which stories were genuine and which were copies. However in most cases religion was not the central theme, except for the Middle Kingdom which has a multitude of Norse-like gods who for the most part are champions of good behaviour. Even their version of Loki, is regarded the Patron Saint of Lawyers and twisting legalities. They took celebrate Yule-tide with the broadest of orgies since winter is a time of long nights. There was even an impromptu pie-fight, for the life of me I could not figure out. However I think I spent more time doing Courtesan Duty than Master Control.

I'm not sure if it was the novelty of the situation or Year's End but Master Control's Lounge became Party Central for a very long time. It seems that the News Room also had to work and often visited the Lounge where three tables a few yoga mats and you had a fucking area. Newsmen, weather girls, (all of whom wanted a spanking,) and an army of Editors and Technicians came by for a quick one. Mandy the Android was the only reliable centre during that time.

She made sure I was fed regular meals, bathed, exercised, and had four hours of uninterrupted sleep a day. This surprised me to find out my body needed so little sleep. With regular meals I was mentally alert, switching from submitting to a spanking, fucking, to dominating a person to sexual ecstasy and then working Master Control. Things just didn't let up. I figured after three days and being fucked once by everybody there people would tire of me. Not so.

"Oh Mister Jones," smiled Heather the Weathergirl as she sauntered into the Lounge as I leisurely ate my dinner. "I've been a bad girl," she sighed reaching under her mini-skirt and rubbed her white panty-covered crotch.

"Oh," I smiled as my naked cock suddenly became hard. "Well now," I quickly wolfed down my meal. "Get over here," I ordered as I moved myself still sitting in my chair away from the corner table and made a little exercise room.

"You'll need to take in some liquids," warned Mandy.

"Okay," I smiled as I shifted the still dressed Heather across my lap. "Lift your top and let my suck your tits," I told Mandy.

A few open hand swats on Heather's skirt covered bottom made her settle down. A quick suck on Mandy's tit and my mouth was filled with milky espresso. Lift Heather's skirt, feel and rub her shapely bottom, oh how I wanted to fuck her. Memory check, yes she liked it up the pussy face to face.

So while in most cases a Courtesan would be very mechanical like the monotonous humping of the porn flicks of the 1980's I took my clients seriously. Heather was on the low rung of the News Room so she couldn't afford a large apartment or hiring her own slave. I worked her ass all over rising it to bright pink before I pulled her panties down, then kept on spanking. Soon she was squealing in pain, she had enough. That is enough to get her to a point of excitement ready for the next phase.

Turning her over I pressed her face to face and deeply kissed her on the mouth. Her mouth tasted like cheep minty mouthwash, her teeth were un-even from a second-rate publicly funded Dentist. I was hard and rammed my cock deeply into her. I fucked her hard against the table till I came but made sure I pulled out and sprayed on her pubis. I could hear a slight shuffling footstep behind me and had a good hunch who it was. It was Nathan.

Every department had a Nathan, that young geeky kid who is socially awkward and well; hade social problems. He had relatively good technical skills and worked in the control room as well. I'm not sure if it was modesty or a fetish, he wore diapers and plastic pants at all times.

"Well," I snapped at the kid, "get over here and clean her up." The kid took a tissue but I stopped him cold. "With your tongue," I snarled. I then added eyeing a growing smile on Heather's face, "now lick that cunt clean. And keep licking it till the lady is satisfied it is properly cleaned."

"You heard him Nathan," she moaned as he pressed his face between her legs.

I could hear Heather's moans as I headed down the hall back to Master Control to do my shift. A little later Heather was doing the weather. Okay over half of Central City is under a dome so how difficult can be the weather? She did however still had cherry red bottom under her white panties and a panting smile of a woman well fucked.

(Eventually Heather and Nathan did hook-up. Ten years later they asked me to stand a Godfather to their first child. But that's another story.)

Eventually the grind ended as Uncle Paul showed up with a security guard carrying a suitcase with my clothes inside. I quickly got dressed while Uncle Paul placed a ram-stick into Mandy with some new orders. He sighed looked at me and nodded for me to follow him. He didn't speak to me till we entered the elevator together.

"I got some bad news," Uncle Paul said breaking the silence.

"Oh," I said very intelligently.

"Charles and Dianna have requested that they no longer need your presence," he sighed.

"After two weeks along together they found each other all over again," I concluded.

"You don't seem too surprised," he said looking me over.

"Well," I summarized, "by adding me into the mix, they would either break up their marriage or make it stronger. So I made it my business to try to get them closer to one another. Although I didn't expect I'd be," had to think of the words.

"Things happen," concluded Uncle Paul. "I'm taking you to my home for the time being. But I guess where I'll be sending you."

"Colin and Jeff," I sighed, "well at least the both lost weight so I guess my mental block about fat people will not creep up."

"Still all the same," smiled Uncle Paul, "I still want you to keep reading those scripts for Hershe continuity."

*

The move into Colin and Jeff's apartment went smoothly. They did have certain peculiarities to being a gay couple. Mandy became Manfred, an anatomically correct male android but still maintained my diet and general health. I had no privacy, I slept on either a matt or in a huge party bed with the two of them and was hand fed by the both of them. Both kept control of me, and I was kept in a cock and ball harness at all times.