Aspen and the Auditor Ch. 04

Author's Note: This story takes place in a similar universe to the 34th amendment stories by Carl-Bradford, Gentlemanmariner, Joe Doe among many others. Sit back folks, this a long chapter. I was able to write in between my main gig which is now over for a few months so I can concentrate a little on this story and "Amy" as well.

Federal Slave Auditor Arthur Frost has taken possession of his new slave, 01101001101513180, whom he has decided to call Aspen. Arthur and Aspen worked at becoming closer after she finished the tale of her trial. Now, the story of her indoctrination/processing begins.

Aspen and the Auditor Chapter 4

Part I

Arthur woke up to a warm, soft sensation engulfing his cock. He opened his eyes and looked down to see Aspen vigorously sucking on his manhood. As Arthur stirred, she released his cock and smiled. "Good morning, Master. I hope that it is okay to wake you up this way."

Arthur stuttered for a moment in surprise before finding his words, "You don't have to do this, Pet."

"I want to," Aspen said emphatically before returning his cock to her mouth. Arthur put his head back and groaned.

Arthur was quite torn. His morals demanded he put a stop to this but he knew that Aspen's sanity was on the line due to the attachment conditioning. "And," Arthur thought to himself, "this feels fantastic." The girl was quite skilled.

Aspen's tongue danced around her master's glans, ticking it and causing Arthur to flush with pleasure. It didn't take long before he felt his balls begin to tighten. "Aspen, I'm going to cum," he warned.

Aspen raised her head and smiled at Arthur, "Where would you like to cum, Master?"

The unpracticed look of seduction on Aspen's face alone nearly made him finish there and then. "Did she know how absolutely sexy she was," he wondered.

"In your mouth," he managed to choke out.

Aspen swallowed him whole again. Arthur could hold back no longer and he exploded in her mouth with a shout. She sucked every last drop of semen from his spend. After she tasted no more, she raised her head and asked, "Was that better than yesterday?"

"You could say that it was merely 'better', Pet," Arthur chuckled, "but that would do it justice. Where did you learn to do that?"

"I guess that's going to be part of my story, Master," she replied. Arthur felt a knot in his stomach. Today she was going to continue the story of how she came to be owned by him. Today would be Aspen's account of her induction at the slave center.

While Arthur knew his fast intervention protected her vaginal and anal virginity, he knew that her mouth had likely been used by both males and females and the thought made him...jealous. That was completely ridiculous, of course but Arthur believed and believed in the girl. He wanted to make things right for her. Arthur didn't even want to think about anything beyond getting Aspen her freedom back. It was far too early and he knew that when owners fell for their slaves it never ended well for either of them. But it was undeniable that the thought of anyone touching her made him angry.

Arthur looked at his bedside clock. He still had ninety minutes before his normal start of his day.

"Lay down with me," he ordered his slave, "we have time before we need to be up."

Aspen silently did as she was told. She returned to Arthur's side, and he rolled so he would be able to spoon her from behind. Arthur's cock hadn't softened all the way and when it came into contact with Aspen's soft ass cheeks, it hardened right up again. Aspen wiggled her ass until his cock slipped into the crack. The master pulled the slave close, holding her tightly.

When Arthur's arms closed around Aspen and she felt his cock press near her secret places, Aspen almost sobbed with how good it felt. Conditioning or not, Aspen had never felt this complete, ever in her life. When her master kissed the back of her neck, Aspen shivered as a mini orgasm travelled through her body."

"I'm sorry, Master," she said immediately, "I came without permission I just feel so good right now." She was playful in tone.

"We'll have to work on your control later, Pet," Arthur replied with the same playfulness. Something in how Arthur said it thrilled Aspen and she nearly came again.

"Aspen," Arthur said sleepily.

"Yes, Master?"

There was a pause and he kissed the back of her neck again. "Cum," he ordered.

Aspen's eyes rolled back and every muscle in her core contracted in pleasure for several seconds. If Arthur hadn't been holding her so tightly, she would have doubled up in ecstasy.

"Bit of a dirty trick, Master," she gasped between heavy breaths.

"It was," Arthur admitted, smiling and kissing her neck again.

"Would it be wrong to ask Doctor Samuels to leave that trigger in place," Aspen purred.

For a moment, Arthur started in surprise before he caught the humor in her voice. They both laughed long and hard. She pushed herself further into his arms.

"You've called me 'Pet' a few times. Am I to be your pet, Master?"

"Yes, Pet. But I hope you don't think of it in a demeaning way."

"I don't," she said with a yawn. Then, meekly, she asked, 'Will you always take care of me like your pet?"

"Yes," he promised,

"Even if I'm free?"

"If that's what we both decide, yes."

Part II

Arthur and Aspen fell asleep with Arthur still holding her close. When his alarm went off an hour and a half later, Arthur stayed under the blankets with his young slave for several minutes before shaking her awake.

Aspen stirred and stretched before making a face, "I'm nasty and sticky," she said aloud.

"Go get a bath," Arthur said, "and take your time. Come down when you're done."

The slave girl got out of the bed and said with a smile, "thank you, Master. I would like that." She left Arthur's bedroom to find the clawfoot tub in the hall bathroom while Arthur went to his own shower.

Part III

Fifteen minutes later, Arthur walked into the kitchen where Mrs. Frain was busy preparing breakfast.

"Good morning, Mr. Frost," the servant greeted him.

"Good morning, Mrs. Frain. I hope you had a pleasant evening."

Mrs. Frain smiled, unable to resist the dig. "Not as pleasant as some of us had."

"I take it you heard us this morning?"

Mrs. Frain nodded, "I'm not asking questions or casting aspersions, sir."

"I didn't..."

"Mr. Frost," she interrupted him, "please. I know you won't do anything that isn't what you think is right." What she didn't add was, "and she sure sounded happy."

Arthur looked uncomfortable with the direction he found this discussion going. He snapped his mouth shut, lest it make a fool of him and he picked up what was already prepared for breakfast, turning to leave the kitchen.

"Mrs. Frain," he said at the last moment, "I apologize but there's a significant mess in my room. Uhm..."

"Think nothing of it, Sir," Mrs. Frain said, "it is to be expected."

After Arthur left the room, Mrs. Frain smiled to herself and said, "It is far from the first time I've cleaned the carpet and the mattress in that room." She remembered well what it was like being taken in there by her master before she was freed. She prayed that Arthur was a better man than his father.

Part IV

Arthur went to his study and waded through his morning work while eating his breakfast. He had completely lost track of time when there was a knock at the door.

Without thinking, Arthur called out, "Come!" He heard the groan of an orgasm on the other side of the door and he cringed. Aspen entered the study, carrying a box from the Department of Justice. She was clearly shaken up.

Aspen quietly put the box on a small table near the sofa and then stood in the "present" position. Arthur waved her along and she relaxed. "May I wear my robe today?"

Arthur nodded as he looked at the box.

"And I may continue to speak freely in this room?"

"Yes, yes," he said, distracted and feeling guilty about activating her trigger inadvertently.

Aspen put her robe on and said, "I think you secretly enjoy that."

Arthur looked up, confused. "Enjoy what?"

"Making me cum on command."

Arthur's face turned red from embarrassment. "That was an accident," he assured her.

"I enjoy it, Master. At least when we're alone."

Arthur cleared his throat and changed the subject, "Open the box, what's in it?"

"Oh," Aspen exclaimed, "it's my clothes! My clothes from my parents' house and my dorm room."

"Good," Arthur responded, "I plan on sending you out shopping with Mrs. Frain tomorrow."

"What for, Master?"

"A wig for you to wear until your hair grows back."

Aspen was delighted. "When my aunt and uncle are here, I won't be a cueball?"

"Correct, Pet. And you'll be able to wear clothes for the visit, as well. I won't force you to be naked in front of your family."

"Thank you so much," Aspen said, her smile nearly splitting her face.

"It is as much for them as it is for you; I don't think they need to see you that way," Arthur said, then he muttered, "The collar will be bad enough."

Aspen absently fondled the collar around her neck. She hated the thing. Though she doubted that Arthur would ever use the shock feature, the collar remained an extremely effective reminder of her place in the world now. No matter how well Arthur treated her or how many privileges she may have, as long as she wore the collar, she was property: a literal slave.

"I'm sorry, Aspen," Arthur said, reading the girl's body language, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't, Master," she said sadly, "Sometimes I forget it is there when we're talking and I almost feel..."

"I understand," Arthur said to her, "but for your own safety you must never forget it is there. If you were to forget about it in front of the wrong person, I would have to correct you. In front of the wrong person, it would not be pleasant."

Aspen nodded slowly. She understood his warning and the thought of what he was eluding to made her blood freeze. She was very grateful for the robe.

Swallowing her fear she asked, "Do you want me to continue my story now, Master?"

"Yes, I'm ready when you are."

Aspen sat down in her chair and Arthur began the recording.

Aspen took a deep breath....

Part V

I took a deep breath as I was led naked from the prison van and through a loading dock door.

"Cunts in one line, cocks in another," a uniformed woman demanded. I moved quickly to the indicated position but one young man did not. The poor boy let out a yelp as a cattle prod was pressed to his buttocks. He moved quickly after that, to his indicated spot.

"The next time one of you doesn't respond fast enough you'll get the shock prod to your no-longer-privates," the female handler threatened. I could tell she wanted someone to give her an excuse to punish us.

The girl next to me started to cry. I wanted to tell her to stop, I knew she was going to be made an example of. The female handler, who I dubbed "The Matron" in my mind, got right in the poor girl's face.

The girl couldn't have been older than eighteen. She was a little shorter than me but her breasts were bigger. When the Matron came over the poor girl tried to cover her breasts and vulva with her arms and hands. I learned enough from my slave studies class that this was a huge mistake.

"Please," she cried, "nobody but my future husband should see me naked."

The Matron smiled sweetly at the girl. "Are you religious, sweetheart?"

"Yes, ma'am. Amish."

"Oh, that's nice. Put your hands to your side."

The girl hesitated and began to cry again. She shook her head from side to side.

"Don't make me ask twice."

With a heart-breaking sob, the girl dropped her hands down. The Matron swiftly pushed the prod into the girl's crotch and pushed the button. My line neighbor went rigid and she let out a terrified and painful scream before collapsing to the floor.

The Matron roared, "Get up, cunt!"

The Amish girl, however, remained on the floor in a heap, sobbing in terror. The Matron's helpers roughly pulled the girl to her feet.

A man in the men's lane called out, "Leave her alone, you bitch! Can't you see she's terrified?"

The Matron seemed to move faster than a lightning bolt. Her cattle prod thrust out and connected with the man's scrotum and with a crack of electricity he went down, pissing all over himself. All the handlers erupted into laughter as the Matron sneered at the twitching boy. She said to her latest victim, "If you're not on your feet in ten seconds you'll spend your first night as a slave in the infirmary, hero."

The boy stood up slowly, glaring at the Matron the whole time. I was certain this wouldn't be the only time he'd feel the prod.

"Do you want more, hero," she snarled at him like an attack dog.

The boy's gaze wavered and then broke. He looked down at his feet, meekly saying, "No, ma'am."

The Matron smiled and then turned to address everyone. "You five cunts and three little cocks have one thing in common. You are convicted felons and will spend as little as five years and up to life as slaves. You became slaves the moment that gavel came down and you will remain so until your manumission or until you're buried in an unmarked grave. You are no longer citizens. You are no longer men or women. You are barely animals."

The Matron pointed to the men, "You are nothing but slave cocks. And one of you is a rapist so you won't even be a cock by the time you leave here."

She pointed at the five women, "You are slave cunts. None of you have names; you have registration numbers which will all be tattooed on your worthless asses and inside your lower lip." The Matron paused to let the horror set in.

"Everyone on their knees," she ordered, "you have five seconds."

The young man who had been shocked looked down at the puddle of piss below him, hesitating. The rest of us dropped to our knees immediately.

"Too slow, hero," the Matron said with dark glee. Once again, faster than my eye could catch, the prod whipped out and as soon as it came into contact with his penis the Matron pressed the trigger and "hero" let out a scream of agony. He collapsed and instead of kneeling in the puddle of piss he was laying in it. One of the assistants grabbed him by his hair and hauled him up to his knees like the rest of us.

The Matron went up both lines, correcting our posture and telling us to spread our knees apart to the point of discomfort. We were then ordered to put our hands behind our heads with our elbow parallel to our shoulders. For the women, this had the effect of forcing our breasts to jut out. The Amish girl began to cry again.

A cart was wheeled into the room stacked with eight thick steel collars and one tubular device that I didn't immediately recognize. The cart was brought to the center of the room between us.

An assistant pointed a scanner of some sort at the arraignment collar of the first man in line. It beeped and the handler read out, "Slave 0210100411552367, formerly Steven Anderson. Convicted of embezzlement. Sentenced to fifteen years of slavery."

The second male assistant handed his partner one of the new collars. The first assistant pressed a button on his scanner and the arraignment collar popped open. With practiced speed, the permanent slave collar was put around Steven's neck and it made a click as the locks engaged. The assistant pointed the scanner at the new collar and pressed a button causing the slave collar to light up with a beep.

The ritual was repeated with the next man. "Save 02101004226413167, formerly Andrew Benes. Convicted of multiple counts of rape. Sentenced to slavery for life and chemical castration."

The handler fastened his new collar and then reached for the tubular device from the cart. For the first time, I saw it had a metal ring with it. The handler detached the ring from the tube and locked it in place at the base of Andrew's shaft.

"No," Andrew cried and pushed the handler away.

"Half shock," the Matron said without any pity in her voice.

The handler with the scanner pointed it at Andrew and he pressed a button. Andrew's collar lit up. Andrew made a strange noise and collapsed backwards. As he lay on the ground, twitching, the handler fit the tube over Andrew's penis, attaching it to the ring and it clicked home when it locked. "Don't worry, rapist, you won't have to wear this long. Pretty soon your balls will be nothing but a shriveled memory." They drug Andrw back to his knees and into the collaring position.

The collaring continued. The final male slave had been named Michael. He was enslaved for ten years for hacking a bank. I stopped paying attention until they got to my neighbor, the Amish girl. She was Sarah Zook once. Now, she was a slave for twenty-five years for possession with intent to distribute cocaine.

Finally, they came to me: 01101001101513180, formerly Aspen Myers. Sentenced to slavery for life for acts of sedition against the United States Government. Oh, how they sneered at me as they locked my collar in place.

I can't recall what I thought as we kneeled there, looking at each other, all newly collared. A small, dark-haired woman came into the room pushing a mop and bucket. She was naked, like us, and wore a slave collar that was colored blue.

("That indicated community service," Arthur said over Aspen's tale)

The matron stood in the middle of all of us and held up a device similar to the scanners. It had multiple lights on it and seven of them were lit green. She thumbed a button and my world went white.

When my vision returned, I was on the floor looking up. My body felt like it had been set on fire and I was trembling. I heard sobbing and looked around to see it was poor Sarah. She was quietly praying between piteous sobs and sitting in a pool of her own urine.

"All of you," the Matron ordered, "on your feet. Keep your hands behind your head just like before. Legs will be spread a little more than shoulder width apart."

While we all rose to our feet, my poor neighbor was pulled up by a handler and held in place until she could stand on her own. I realized that the mop was for the custodial slave as she mopped up several puddles of urine and then wiped down the legs of the slaves that couldn't hold their bladders. With some embarrassment, I found that I was one of them.

"That," the Matron began in a condescending tone, "my little cum dumps, was a fifty percent power shock. If any of you get any cute ideas, I will shock you at full power. You'll survive it but you will wish that you hadn't."

The matron moved among us, correcting our posture and our stance until we were all standing exactly how she wanted us to be. We were told that this was the "inspection" or "present" position and that as slaves we were to stand this way upon command or anytime our masters or mistresses came into a room.

Above the door at the far end of the room, a green light came on. With a couple of loud clanks, the door slid apart.

"It looks like they're ready for you. Line up; single file," Matron ordered.

We were marched through the door and into a circular room with eight steel frames around the circumference. In the center of the room was a pair of television cameras and on the wall, a series of large TV screens that all had the ominous words, "Corporal Punishment begins in fifteen minutes."

One by one we were led to frames surrounding the center of the room. I looked at the one in front of me and saw four loops at each corner. It was obvious what those loops were for, our hands and feet and these were punishment frames. I'd seen these in books but I never once expected to be standing naked in front of one about to be locked into it. As I was cuffed into mine, I was glad I had peed in the other room, or I was certain that I would have done it now. Oh yes, I knew the function of this device well from my classes. We were all about to be beaten.