Civil Penalty Pt. 04

At 9 pm, they reluctantly leashed me and took me back to the lobby. I reminded them that my name was 9608. They were handed an iPad, which Allison took, to answer questions about my performance and leave a review. All four of them contributed to the review while Allison typed the answers, and I grew increasingly embarrassed as they excitedly described out loud everything they'd done to me, including me cumming without permission, and they claimed I loved having my pussy spanked.

As they left, they said loudly enough for the wrangler to hear, "Don't worry, 9608, we left you a stellar review and hope to see you in college the semester after next."

The wrangler asked me, "You know them?"

I groaned, "Yes, I'm indentured for six months, and the boys are my students at Georgetown. I will be teaching them after my manumission, and they videoed everything they did to me to show other students."

He laughed, "Wow, you really are unlucky. Anyway, they left happy, and their review was, in fact, stellar. A copy of their sexually explicit answers will be sent to your owner. Well done, 9608; you should get the maximum 35% from tonight."

As we sat on the bus taking us back to camp, I wondered how HR would react to the write-up of my slutty slave behaviour tonight. I bet they would pass it around the office giggling and show Eamon what I had been trained to do. I later learned that the stellar report had helped me out of a tricky situation.

I pondered the ambiguity of my situation. Tonight I'd been a slave to the four students, but in six months, I'd have the power to negatively impact their careers which had caused them to be careful with me. I feared what they might have done if they hadn't needed good grades from me.

When I was allowed to return to work, I'd be in charge of the engineers and have power over their careers during the day, but they would have power over me at night. If I was harsh to them during the day, they could punish me at night and vice versa. It was the employees who weren't under my authority that worried me. In particular, I knew the Sales team resented my honesty with customers, and I would need allies to help deal with them.

When we returned, they offered food to anyone hungry. Most of the slaves had not been fed by their clients and went to the dining room to get lukewarm slave chow. I had been fortunate having clients that were acutely embarrassing but had taken good care of me.

I quickly found my sleep mat but sleep eluded me despite being dog-tired. I had too much to process as I grappled with how humiliated I had been, how turned on I'd been, and how much I'd enjoyed the evening and that I would do it all over again if asked.

Lying there, I fantasised that the students' video was shown to the assembled faculty, destroying my career, before a wrangler arrived to strip me on the stage, collar and leash me, and, to the sounds of catcalls and jeers, haul me away to spend a sabbatical year as one of the college's resident pleasure sluts serving coeds all day. I think it crystallised all my fears about my professional reputation after my indenture.

My last thought as I finally slept was that maybe this short period of slavery would be less scary and more fun than I had feared.

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