Animate Rentals

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A slaver's job is never done.
12.9k words
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This story is part of the On The Job Challenge 2023. Thanks to HeyAll for herding the cats and organizing the event.

The story is set in the same near-future universe as my Penal Slavery series set in an alternate world where criminals are sentenced to terms of slavery rather than jail or prison per se. Because this is Literotica, there is a lot of sex. No rape or violence, reluctance at worst.

Be warned, there are lesbian, oral, anal and the like. Slaves can't say no after all. If that offends you, please move on. I have other tales.

I thank those of you who will give the story a read. Your feedback is important to me.

If you enjoy this story, then try the Penal Slavery and Mom and Daughter Face Penal Slavery series, along with Office Servitude, Celebrity to Penal Slave, IT Slave, and Visit to the Lodge set in the same universe.

Thanks to ZZchromosome, Carl Bradford, Avicia,Dannicalli299, and Mr. Smith for all of their helpful and insightful comments and edits that help improve my stories.

**************

"I so love my job," I thought to myself as the little minx kneeling under my desk flipped up my kilt and engulfed my hard cock with her wet, warm mouth.

The two unexpected visitors were making it hard to feel the love.

"Why can't you send our daughter home to us?" Mrs. Pettigrew wailed. Her husband, Wilber, patted her shoulder.

"Trish, Mr. Langford has to follow the law. It's why he couldn't... purchase... Penelope for us like we asked him to. At least he made sure she didn't wind up as a whore."

Trent Langford counted to ten. In English, Spanish, Latin, and French for good measure. The Pettigrews were annoying enough with their naïve attempt to ask him to commit multiple felonies a few weeks ago by having Animate Rentals buy their daughter with their funds as a straw man and give her to them to hide away for her four-month enslavement. Thanks to a church friend, Mrs. Pettigrew found out that Trent had in fact outbid the Cunt Castle for the slave formerly known as Penelope Daisy Pettigrew. And here they were, without an appointment and interrupting a really outstanding blow job with their urgent request to "rent " their precious Daisy.

His assistant, Maria, had passed them through with just enough warning to give him time to stuff the slave cunt under his desk in deference to his prudish visitors. Normally, he wouldn't care, but they had sent him some business.

For just a moment, he considered renting her to them. Of course, he would have to report the lease and his misgivings to law enforcement. Enslavement for violation of the terms of a penal slave lease would likely follow. Trish Pettigrew could stand six months taking it up the ass and a cock shutting her mouth up. Years in the business had given Trent the "slaver's eye" to see under the frumpy outfits and gage the potential slave meat hidden beneath. The woman took care of herself. Trish would be an excellent MILF brothel slave.

Her husband wouldn't fare as well. He was fit enough for forty something, but he was self-employed and his plumbing business wouldn't survive his enslavement. Plus, he had made commitments for their newly enslaved daughter.

"Mrs. Pettigrew, as I said before, Daisy is being oriented to her current situation and trained for the next two weeks. Then she will be an au pair for a family at their summer cabin. I know the family personally and I know she will be treated well. I even made sure that she kept her name."

Trent felt warm lips licking his length. He bit back a moan.

"Oh good!" the matron beamed. "Who are they?"

"I can't tell you. Our customers value their privacy and expect our discretion." Trent thought he ought to get an Academy Award for making his voice sound regretful and not screaming at them to leave so he could bend the insolent slave cunt over his desk and plow her ass. Again.

With a tremendous effort, he pulled away, coming to his feet. The little slut under his desk gently scraped her teeth across his shaft as his now rock-hard cock slid out of her mouth. Trent extended his hand. " I can promise that I will personally assure that your daughter will get the best treatment possible within the law as she repays her debt to society. If you will excuse me, I have a conference that I need to prepare for."

"Of course, Mr. Langford. Thanks for seeing us without an appointment." Mr. Pettigrew shook his hand with a firm grip and a thankful look in his eyes. "Come along, Trish, we've taken up enough of the man's day."

"But..."

" NOW, Trish,"

"Yes, dear,"

As the door closed behind the pair, Trent sat down and hit his old school phone. "Hold my calls, hold my appointments and if you let anyone through the door till I open it, you'll spend the weekend leased to the House of Pain."

" Yes, dominus," the humor laden voice responded.

Soft hands made their way under his kilt.

"Oh no," Trent pushed away from his desk and looked under his desk. A face with a pug nose and green eyes framed by auburn hair looked back at him with an impish expression. The same face that could easily have belonged to Trish Pettigrew twenty years ago.

"Is it time for more orientation to my current situation?"

"Daisy, I want you bent over my desk and your slave ass presented for fucking right now. "

"Yes, Dominus." She scrambled out from under the desk, her firm, full breasts topped by diamond hard pink nipples. As she stretched to her full five foot nine, Trent admired her long legs and curvy body. Bending over his desk, she wriggled her fine ass and then reached back and spread her ass cheeks, exposing her moist, freshly shaved cunt and shiny asshole. Decisions, decisions.

"My convict cunt is so ready to be plowed again by my owner!"

Asshole it is, Trent thought wryly as he flipped his kilt and plumbed her starfish, driving his cock balls deep into her ass.

Daisy yipped, then cried out, "Please Dominus, slow down!"

"Daisy, you left your right to choose behind with your clothes in the courtroom." Trent picked up the pace, "My company, or whoever you are leased to, owns your holes, your body, your choices for the next four months. You have a nice tight ass and cunt. We will train you on how to keep them tight. You suck dick surprisingly well for an eighteen-year-old. By the end of your enslavement, you will suck cock even better and crave taking it up the ass."

"It's starting to feel... good. Just like yesterday." She moaned. "Am I turning into a slut?"

Trent ran into that question a lot from new slave cunts. A lot of enslaved women rationalized being used for sex as a consequence, and tried to enjoy it as much as possible, especially anal. When the collar came off, many reverted to the same sexuality they practiced prior to their enslavement. One of his neighbors picked up a DUI and spent three months keeping house for and licking the pussy of her lesbian neighbor. Trent asked her at a neighborhood party if she and her former domina Keighly, were still friends.

"Keighly was, is, and will always be my friend. She had just broken up with her girlfriend and was horny. And I was available by definition. It was a change of pace, but three months of dining at the Y confirmed I am a sausage girl." A fact she proved beyond doubt later that evening, Trent recalled fondly.

Others didn't fare so well. Some couldn't have healthy relationships. Some even rejected sex altogether after their terms. Young slave cunts like Daisy could often go from one extreme to the other. Trent's uncle had taught that while slaves were the authors of their misfortune, you still take care to keep them as healthy, both mentally and physically, as possible. You protect your investment and maximize its return.

Trent remembered when he saw Daisy on the auction block. The tear-streaked face was to be expected, five lashes, even to just the back and buttocks was going to sting and, from what he had seen of the Pettigrews, it was probably the first time she had ever experienced corporal punishment in her life. But she wasn't the naïve, scared teenager that he expected to see on the block. She didn't try to hide her body or hesitate when the auctioneer put her through her block poses. The broker standing next to him muttered.

"She's a delightful piece of fuckmeat, but I am not paying virgin prices for her. She not only has had a cock, but licked her lips after she swallowed. "

Trent didn't disagree, but saw what the other bidder didn't, that her slut act didn't reach her eyes. Daisy's sphincter muscles clenching around his pumping cock broke his reverie.

" I don't care if I am turning into a slut. This feels so good. And you're still hard. It can't get better than this." Trent noticed that pounding her had her head just clear of the front of the desk.

" The only way that this could get better is the sight of you licking a pussy while I plow you."

"Eww gross. Why did you bring that up? I'm no muff diver."

Trent hit the silent call button for Maria. Moments later, she entered without knocking. He surveyed her body. She was a little older than Trish Pettigrew, but Maria was nearly as firm as Daisy. Her brown skin betrayed her Latin heritage, but all that hinted she might be older than late twenties was the occasional strand of silver in her waist length hair made up in a high ponytail and the slight lines around her gray eyes. The grey office slave dress didn't clash with her red collar and wrist and ankle cuffs like her original red dress did.

"You rang, dominus?"

Trent was close to cumming and had called Maria in as a way to delay the inevitable. "Daisy here tells me she's not a muff diver."

"Oh, that's too bad. Mrs. Thomas will be so disappointed. So I need to find another au pair? The family is scheduled for two thirty this afternoon to check her out."

"Maria, now, now we can't have disappointed customers. Daisy, what did I tell you and the other new slaves in the van on the way here?"

"The domini... oh... are... ohhhh.... always right. "

"And?"

"Animate Rentals never disappoints the customer because... that feels so good... we provide superior customer service. "

"Right. I would never have you start muff diving domina just because you're a slave. That's why you will start with Maria's nice, smooth convict cunt.," I nodded my head. Maria hiked up her skirt and stepped into Daisy's face just as Trent came into her ass. Daisy gave a muffled moan.

The older convict frowned after a minute. "This really is your first time licking the peach, isn't it?"

"Yes ma'am. It actually tastes good. Not smelly and fishy like my mother said."

"We need to practice. For now, just do what you enjoy being done to you. "

"No one's ever licked me down there. Jake Martin tried, but I wouldn't let him... Ohhh... Ooohhh... Oh my God."

Trent loved licking women. He didn't care if it was a free woman or a slave cunt. Daisy's newly enslaved cunt was fresh and tangy. He made a note to have her shaved smooth. The jailers always left a lot of stubble.

"That's right... slide your tongue around my clit. Tease it. Gently nibble my folds. Gently now."

Trent mimicked Maria's instructions to Daisy to give her an idea about how her actions were pleasing the elder slave. His wrist comp went off. Damm.

Pulling away, Daisy gave out a muffled whimper. Maria petted the top of her head and crooned, " Dominus Trent has a business to run. He doesn't have the time to get every horny slave cunt off. Domini are like that. Keep licking, girl. Tonight, you'll get plenty of slave cock during recreation, provided the dominus doesn't keep you to himself. "

"May I cut in?"

"Of course, dominus. You own my cunt and her mouth, after all."

Daisy hesitated for a moment, then licked his cock clean. His wrist comp beeped again.

"I need to go. Carry on."

"I never thought that something that came from my ass would smell and taste minty." Maria chucked at Daisy's observation as the licking sound resumed behind Trent as he left his office.

Making his way out of the office lobby, he smiled at the wisdom of his late, unlamented father. He might have been a terrible dad and a worse husband, but he could see the potential in property. Animate and otherwise. The current headquarters of Animate Rentals started out as a very nice motel and restaurant that catered to travelers along the busy US highway. The advent of the interstate system coupled with an unwise loan to refurbish the property into a resort destination led to his father purchasing the entire complex, including the riverside land and six hundred acres of forested mountain side for pennies on the dollar.

Over the years, the company grew and expanded. The location was remote enough to discourage escape attempts but close enough to be an easy commuting distance to two major cities and several large towns. Best of all, it gave Animate Rentals proximity to several rural county courthouses and their slave auctions. Gifts of baked goods and regular conversations with the various court clerks meant that Trent and his staff often got tips on "interesting" upcoming auctions.

It didn't hurt that Animate Rentals paperwork was always in order and slaves who had served their terms were promptly returned to court on time rather than days late. Most of the rural counties tended to be smaller and more tightly knit and while people make mistakes that got them in a collar, it generally wasn't held against them at the end of their terms. Humane treatment of slaves and respect for the local justice systems made Trent's company a favored business in the eyes of most of the counties where the company took part in auctions.

Trent crossed the green space that used to be a parking between the first and second line of the motel rooms and made his way to the corrugated metal structure that served as a gym and training area. As he entered the door, he met up with his senior straw boss, Malcolm. The red collared slave was pushing seventy, but to look at his body you would think he was half his age. Convicted of the mercy killing of his terminally ill wife thirty years ago, he had had the misfortune of committing his crime when the legislature was taking a very dim view of euthanasia. Any mercy killing resulted in a mandatory life sentence with discretion to allow the possibility of parole. That bit of mercy by the sentencing judge was why Malcolm went on the block rather than Dante prison. Trent's father had purchased him and take advantage of the man's extensive managerial experience gained in his prior life of running a successful manufacturing operation rather than the slave spending a far shorter and infinitely more miserable life in the mines of Dante.

"Dominus Trent, I'm sorry to have to bother you, but Ms. Priss has been giving me trouble all morning completing her exercise program. Now she won't get on the exercise bike."

"I refuse to use that bike with the dildo. He's a lifer slave. He can't tell me what to do!" A shrill voice interjected.

Trent overhead a slave cunt doing yoga snickering to another. "She didn't have a problem mounting the slave cocks last night during free time."

Trent grimaced. Ms. Priss, formerly known as Dorothea Parker-Jones prior to her enslavement for assault on one of her servants, had been giving the staff trouble to where Trent almost regretted making a bid on her. He had intended to pass her through to an ex-boyfriend who could not make it to the auction that day and Trent was going to happily pocket the agency fee because he knew a collar would not stop her entitled attitude without some work. However, it turned out that despite getting an excellent bargain, the ex-boyfriend's pockets were not as deep as he had intimated to Trent in his office. That or mommy wouldn't advance his allowance.

Not for the first time, Trent cursed the law that prohibited penal slaves from having access to wireless devices. Mornings are always light on domini because the free staff were in the field at auctions, sales calls, or simply delivering slaves here and there. Straw bosses like Malcom would be fine delivering discipline to disobedient slaves like Priss. But no, some elected idiot in the capitol thought random slaves have the ability to disconnect their collars and trackers and run away just using the right keystrokes on a wrist comp.

The long-legged busty blond was as sweet looking as her disposition was sour. Trent had been finalizing an eleven-month lease for Ms. Priss to Madam Bell at the Cougar Club yesterday when her father, Garrett Parker-Jones had called him up and prevailed on him to keep her in inventory by offering to double the lease payment the club had offered, plus kennel fees. Hearing Trent's hesitation, Parker-Jones had said,

"She's a brat. It's my fault. I let her late mother spoil her. I wasn't any better after Laura passed. I let her have whatever she wanted. Now she is an adult and acts like an entitled child. I could have prevailed on Cook to not press charges, but I want her to learn consequences and hopefully some responsibility."

"Mr. Parker-Jones, Animate Rentals is not a finishing school. She will certainly learn consequences in a brothel. She really doesn't have any marketable skills other than her body. But... I have some ideas. She won't like it." By the end of the conversation, Parker-Jones was not only on board, but had inquired as to the availability of office trained slaves for a business expansion.

Trent was now realizing that, despite his brilliant idea, the fact remained that Ms. Priss was going to need an attitude adjustment. He pulled up her collar on his wrist comp and hit the level one discipline icon.

"OWWWW!" Priss went to her knees and writhed on the floor. Trent saw a couple of slave cunts rolling their eyes. Malcolm snorted.

"Priss. I can take you to level three if you want the pain to go along with the dramatics. Knees! Now!" She scrambled to comply. Trent noted she had slipped into the kneeling display position, fingers interlocked behind her head, tits out without being specifically ordered. There might be hope for her yet.

"Slave cunt, here's what's going to happen. You will apologize for back talking to Malcolm with your month by sucking his cock and getting it hard and wet. Then you will apologize for showing your ass by presenting it to Malcolm for fucking. That will get your asshole nice and stretched for the exercise bike, which you will then mount anally and do your exercise program. At some point, you may earn back the privilege of a cunt mount. Understood?"

Priss looked mutinous, but responded with a "Yes Dominus."

"Carry on Malcolm."

"Yes Dominus."

Exiting the gym, Trent heard the other slave cunt on the yoga mat whisper, "Yeah, she won't have any trouble taking it up the ass tonight."

Trent manfully resisted the seduction of the bright late spring day and returned to his office to find Maria typing at her desk. She seemed a little short of breath.

"Maria, where's Daisy? And are you ok? You look a little flushed."

Chuckling, the red-collared slave pushed back from her desk and a familiar auburn-haired imp poked her head up. The girl's shiny face explained the flushed face of his senior assistant.

"She's finishing her oral exam. I believe she will provide excellent customer service this afternoon." Maria said dryly.

"Glad to hear it. We can't disappoint our customers."

***

Trent had been so focused on his quarterly tax returns, he had completely missed lunch. He really needed to either find a bookkeeper that understood the ins and outs of slave accounting or better yet find some long term green collar slave with the skills that he could train. He had hoped to bid on a CPA with a five-year sentence several months back, but his chief buyer, Zach Reynolds, had a flat on the way to the courthouse that caused him to miss the lot. Word was that her ex-husband had won her after a huge bidding war that had driven up her price to nearly a hundred thousand dollars. A knock on the door interrupted his musing.