IT Slave

"You'll l do. You're the best qualified on paper. You know your stuff and can answer questions in plain English. The last person I interviewed, I had to Google words to keep up." McTavish grimaced. And you passed the biggest test."

"Sir?"

"Every person I have interviewed for the position let themselves get distracted by Blossom. You kept focus. You also treated her like an enslaved person rather than a thing. I don't tolerate staff mistreating penal slaves. You're the first applicant to manage all three."

"God's honest sir, it wasn't easy," which got a muffled snort from the slave cunt on the floor next to his chair. McTavish gave a wintery smile and touched the screen of his computer.

"Indeed. Based on your credentials, I can offer you the middle of the Director salary range. It's all spelled out in the offer letter I just emailed to you. There's also an addendum with some special requirements"

"Sir?"

"I require all staff to have a certain level of fitness. Penal slaves at the Lodge are required to perform two to three hours a day of exercise. Correctional officers have three hours a day, support such as yourself I allow to just do two minimum. Although three hours a day on average is encouraged. "

" I got out of the habit of regular workouts in college and graduate school. But I certainly have no problem getting back into it. Work permitting, of course."

"Ah, perhaps I didn't make myself clear. It's a work requirement. I believe you will find that you will get more done at a higher level of fitness."

I can't lose this job. I can't lose this job. Chris reminded himself. If it's part of the job I can spend some time taking walks and working out.

"Understood sir. I just tend to be job oriented."

"And I like that. But being fit is part of the job. One other thing. My policy is to run all staff through the Correctional and Enslavement Officers' course before formal assignment. However, the next class does not start for nine weeks. I need you sooner than that, so I am willing to allow you to take the virtual classroom course."

"That shouldn't be a problem." Chris had already reviewed the materials thanks to the friend that had told him about the position.

"However, you will need to complete the slave familiarization segment."

"It's not part of the online package?"

Chris heard a muffled giggle at his side. The Colonel smiled with teeth.

"No. it's not that kind of course. Anyone working for me at Hidden Hills is required to spend two weeks as a penal slave."

Chris had to remind himself that he would never get an opportunity like this. He had plenty of offers. He could either be working as a drone in one of the major cities in the state in boring positions, or go to the west coast, and barely survive after dealing with the higher costs of living.

"Sir, I haven't ever been convicted of anything."

"Not so much as a parking ticket," McTavish agreed. " There is a little-known provision of law that allows for voluntary servitude up to thirty days provided that the person is a state employee and the indenture holder is the state. The only grounds are for training or disciplinary purposes."

"Disciplinary?"

"There are times that state employees monumentally screw up, but for whatever reason, the State thinks they are salvageable. Rather than fire them, they spend time as a penal slave. The vast majority of cases it's for training. Experiencing slavery firsthand tends to cut down on abusive behavior."

"How will this work?"

"An order of enslavement will be entered. I need to be very clear on this. Once you formally sign the employment agreement and the enslavement order is entered, you are committed to two weeks in a collar. You can't change your mind midstream. It's part of the reason that we offer an above market rate compensation and relocation package. To be blunt, for two weeks you will be a slave. Two weeks of being subject to the whims of free people. Two weeks where you will almost certainly be taking it up the ass, sucking cock, licking pussy and slave cunt and being sexually used without regard for your needs or preferences. Not to mention two weeks of menial labor. I already know that if you take the job, I will assign you as a janitor, so you can see the entire facility."

Chris swallowed. Did he want the job that badly? He remembered a question he hadn't asked, "Colonel, what happened to my predecessor?"

"An aneurysm. She never knew what hit her. She had been one of my late wife's best friends." A look of genuine regret and sadness crossed McTavish's features before regaining his bland expression. "That's why time is of the essence. The senior IT slave recently ended her sentence. I have a couple of IT slaves holding the fort as it were, but for obvious reasons, they can only do so much. Worse, both are due to be released in four and five weeks, respectively. Neither is interested in staying on as paid staff after their release. Which is why I need an answer right away. I know it's customary to give an applicant time to consider an offer, but I don't have any to give at this point. Sorry."

"I understand sir. I need some time to at least review the offer letter." And decide if I want to spend two weeks with a collar around my neck and take it up the ass, Chris said to himself.

"Of course. Blossom, show Mr. Goff to the hearing room to think things through."

"Yes Dominus."

Blossom led Chris next door to an oversized conference room that was set out like the courtroom that his civics class had toured in high school with a raised desk with the state seal on the front and two tables facing it with a speaking podium dividing them. Chris sat and read the formal offer letter as Blossom sat on the floor in the exact pose that she had in McTavish's office.

"You don't have to do that. You can sit in a chair if you want."

"Thank you, Dominus, but I am fine here."

The offer was better than he thought. Not only was the salary in the middle of the published range, the job included reimbursement of relocation expenses, a free on-site apartment along with "staff board and exclusive reservation rights." He must have wondered about the last aloud as Blossom responded.

"Dominus, staff board includes eating for free off the staff menu. The only restrictions are no alcohol nor premium entrees like prime rib or leg of lamb. You can order those items, but the cost is deducted from your pay as I understand it."

Wow. so, no rent and minimal food costs. "Do you know what 'exclusive reservation rights' means?"

"It means that you can reserve any non-exempt slave to your personal use. Some slaves are in high demand and are exempted."

"So I could ask McTavish to make you part of the package?"

Blossom sighed, "At the risk of second-guessing Dominus McTavish, I suspect that he is that desperate. I am considered exempt. The problem with being a bedwarmer is that such a slave stands out with the general population. It can cause problems."

"Well, I don't want to cause you problems."

Chris came to the end of the document and the blank signature space mocked him. Time to address the thing that was keeping him from signing.

"Blossom, what's it like to suck a cock and take it up the ass?"

"Sucking a cock can be very empowering. Like licking a pussy, for that matter. For a time, you can make the domini shudder and moan like the sluttest slaves if you know what you are doing. That said, the experience can also leave you feeling helpless and used when you are being skull fucked or a domina is squirming on your face smothering you. Hygiene is also an issue. Taste and smell can vary widely.

"Yeah, my AC is busted. I was probably a little rank. Sorry"

"A bit. A bit. But at least you care. Realize that one of the things that got you the offer is the fact that you treated me decently. A lot of guests and some staff see slaves as two- or three-hole animated sex toys. You can never say no. You can never expect an orgasm from the domini. For those two weeks you have no choices."

"What about anal? I am completely heterosexual. I have never done that kind of thing."

"Taking it up the ass doesn't make you gay when you are wearing a collar and have a barcode on your butt. It just means you are a slave without choices. The anus has a lot of nerve endings. As long as you are lubed up, you will be fine. More than fine since guys can get their prostates tickled with a cock or a strap on. You learn to like it. "

"I don't know why two weeks is freaking me out. You have been doing this for years, with years to go and seem to accept it."

"This slave has her good and bad days. I am much less volatile than I used to be. I get plenty of sex, and I am getting an education that I wouldn't have gotten otherwise."

"It's only two weeks. I can do two weeks." Chris affixed his digital signature and hit send before he lost his nerve.

"Dominus, this slave would suggest that you make sure that you are cleaned out before you start your enslavement. Ass to mouth is very popular with the domini."

Before Chris could respond, the side door near the other end of the room opened and a smiling McTavish strode through, followed closely by the desk clerk, Tammy.

"Mr. Goff, thank you for your quick and positive decision. I think you have met Tammy Peterson. She will be helping you get relocated. She can get your things packed and shipped to the Lodge and drive your car up here with your permission. She mentioned to me that you wanted to leave this evening. Is that still the case?"

"Yes, sir. I have to clear my apartment in the morning at nine am. Everything is already packed. I think it will all fit in my car since I had a furnished unit. I was going to get a storage unit until I decided what offer I was going to take."

"This will work out very well." McTavish worked with his wrist comp. Behind him, a printer started whirring. I am printing out a limited power of attorney to allow her to clear your quarters, ship your goods, and get your car back up here. Tammy, use the state credit card. Book rooms for tonight and make sure he gets to the justice complex no earlier than ten am tomorrow."

"Sir?"Tammy asked quizzically

"That will make sure that Chris doesn't have to hang around too long before the Lodge transport arrives."

Chris noted that a lightbulb seemed to go off for the desk clerk, "Indeed sir. Very good."

McTavish turned to Chris. "Tammy can fill you in on what to expect. Follow her advice. She will get you out of here discreetly. Blossom, I don't think I need to ask for your discretion."

"Understand Dominus. No one will know."

Tammy had an overnight bag slung over her shoulder and quickly had them outside on a graveled walk that led to the parking lot. Chris had to ask.

"That seemed a little too easy to get out of the building."

"For us sure. Anyone with a collar wouldn't have gotten locked up in the hallway to the outside door. Control would have locked them up. Before the liquid metal collars, going down that hall would have required requests to unlock both doors. Where is your car?"

"Right here," Chris opened her door, causing her to smile.

Tammy was less amused when she discovered his ac was out. "How do you get around in the heat?"

"Not well. I didn't have a spare two grand to fix it when it went out. At least its cooler in the mountains. And it should be cooler in the city by the time we get there."

Over the two-hour drive, Chris learned quite a bit about his traveling companion. He found that Tammy was also a font of information regarding the Lodge and the nuts and bolts of being enslaved, answering questions that he had not thought to ask Blossom about.

"Tammy, you seem to be awfully knowledgeable about penal slavery. Have you worked at the Lodge long?"

Tammy smiled at him and asked, "You really don't know, do you? Rubbing the pale band around her neck., she said, "Haven't you wondered about this? I just completed a three-year term for accessory to vehicular homicide. I've only been free for two weeks."

"I had wondered about that, but honestly didn't make the connection. What made you stay at the Lodge? I would have thought you would have wanted to get away from the place."

"I had been studying hospitality management before I let the wrong person drive my car because I was too drunk to drive. The Lodge has several programs to let inmates continue their education, so I continued mine. I graduated about a month before my release. The Col. was kind enough to hire me on."

*****

Chris shivered a bit in his old t-shirt, ratty gym shorts and flip-flops that Tammy had bought in a drugstore on their way to the justice center. The morning rain and stiff breeze had cooled things down and he was a little chilly. His hind end felt oddly stretched. Tammy had insisted on using the extra shower nozzle she called an "aquacock" to clean out his rectum. Normally, he would have been fascinated by the attachment that flushed and cleaned his bowels. The discomfort overwhelmed his inquisitiveness, and he grumbled to Tammy, who replied.

"Trust me, you will thank me later."

"Why did you have me wear this? I am cold."

"Because you won't miss them and it will be weeks before you get what you leave in there. They were notified sixty days prior to my release that I was out processing at the Lodge and I just got my wrist comp the day before yesterday. Speaking of which, let me have your wrist comp and wallet." She handed back his driver's license.

"So, what about that?"

"Worst case, we can get a replacement issued pretty quick at the Lodge itself. Knowing the Colonel, he will probably have it overnighted up there. Ok, go through that door there" pointing to a nondescript metal door marked "intake" To his surprise, she leaned up and gave him a kiss.

"For luck."

"You better not be my long-lost sister," he quipped with a smile. "On with you. See you in a few hours."

Walking the few steps to the door, he heard a clicking sound like a lock releasing.as he pulled the handle. As it shut behind him, he heard the same sound.

Chris was in a room that was a bizarre cross between " government office" and "locker room. " Two rows of plastic seats ran back-to-back to a metal door on the far end. Six desks were arrayed three to a side. Four were unoccupied. The walls behind the desks were covered with lockers. A thirtysomething black-haired deputy waved him over to a desk.

"Here to surrender yourself?"

"Yes sir." Chris was proud of the fact that his voice didn't waiver.

"Ok, ID. Place both hands flat on the panel in front of you. Keep them there till you hear a ping."

Taking his driver's license, the deputy inserted it into a reader. Chris put his hands on the white plastic sheet on top of the desk, which softly glowed when touched. The deputy grabbed a plastic bin from a stack behind him and placed the bin on his desk. The pinging sound caused him to look at a screen. Without looking away from the flat-screen, the deputy said, "Strip"as if that were the most natural instruction imaginable.

Tammy had warned him this was going to happen. He made quick work of his tee and gym shorts and underwear. At least it was warmer here.

"Gather your clothes and put them in the bin. You will get them back when you are released."

As soon as he loaded the bin with his flip-flops, shirt, and shorts, Chris was instructed to interlock his fingers and put his hands behind his head. The deputy then asked him a series of questions, mostly about his health, medications, and allergies. The last question Tammy hadn't warned him about.

"Are you homosexual, bisexual, or heterosexual?"

"Errr... I am straight." He resisted the urge to proclaim that he was a meat popsicle.

The deputy smirked. "That going to change. Come around..." The deputy's wrist comp went off. Looking at it, he scowled. "Ok slave. Your ride is running early. Hands behind your back and turn."

Cold handcuffs were snapped around his wrists. Chris was firmly directed towards a metal door at the far end of the room. Stopping in front of it, Chris had the deputy say. "Open Door Nine. One for slave processing."

Mortification kept Chris from really focusing on what was going on around him. He could hear his bare feet slapping on the floor. He felt the coolness of the concrete. He saw uniformed men and women around him, ignoring him like they saw naked, handcuffed people every day. Which they probably did.

"Stop." The deputy reinforced the command will a hand on Chris's bare shoulder. A pair of deputies were escorting a green collared brunette him with full breasts and a tearstained face between them out of the door marked " SLAVE PROCESSING " The slave reminded him of his cheerleader crush in high school that stood him up for prom.

"That slave cock has a nice dick. Twenty, thirty fewer pounds and he'll fetch a good price. How's his mouth Curtis?"

The deputy behind him snorted, "good question. He's shipping out today and I didn't have time to test them out when I first stripped him.

"Trish has an open spot so you may get your tryout sooner rather than later."

"That's true. My break is coming up, after all."

"And we need to get this little piece of fuck meat to her date with the auction block," the blonde slave let out a whimper.

The other deputy remarked as the trio pulled away from Chris, "Buck up, dearie. The next two years will be over before you know it."

Chris was directed into the room the slave had just been escorted out of. The first thing he saw was the enslavement station. He had read descriptions of it both in his civics classes and later when he was preparing for the interview at the Lodge. The term "high-tech pillory" had stuck with him and he could see the reason for the description. The one large and two small padded circles within the two-piece metal frame certainly matched the historical device. The two metal retracted arms above the unoccupied station, along with the stainless-steel construction, indicated this was a modern take on the historical punishment construct.

He also got the first sign of what he was about to look like in the device in the form of an African-American woman in the station next to where he suspected he was going to wind up shortly. Only her back and ass along with her rather shapely legs were visible, the metal yoke hiding her face and hands. The two metal arms were busy with her backside. One was plunged into her anus. The other was scribing a barcode in white ink that clearly contrasted with her dark chocolate complexion.

Firm hands turn Chris away from the enslavement machine toward a row of shackles hanging from the ceiling above a matching set of shackles on the floor. He was led to the far-right set.

"Slave will spread his legs," Chris complied with some trepidation. Tammy had told him about this as well. Chris felt the cool metal cuffs secured around the first one and then the other ankle.

"Slave will raise his arms."

The deputy clipped one of the hanging cuffs over his left wrist just under the handcuff link, followed by his right wrist. The handcuffs were then removed. Chris heard a whirring sound as the chains retracted into the floor and ceiling, leaving him stretched into an X-shape.

A new female voice spoke, "pursuant to sentence corporal punishment shall commence."

The first lash caught Chris by surprise, and he cried out in pain. The fire along his back reminded him that he never asked how many lashes he was going to get. As stroke after stroke kissed his back, buttocks and thighs, never twice in the exact same place, he wondered when it was going to end. The shards of his pride drove him to not make any sounds beyond a grunt after each strike of the whip.

Apparently, seven was his lucky number. A female deputy with brown hair streaked with gray entered his field of vision to stride to a table where she put down a flogger, donned a pair of nitrile gloves and grabbed a tube with writing on it. A few moments later, cool relief replaced the burning of his back.