My Prom Afterparty

This story takes place in a parallel world where non-hereditary slavery exists.

What had started as titters during a sleepover had grown over the years into a full-fledged plan. After our post-graduation prom, we would be slaves to the guys for the rest of the weekend. It was hard to tell whose idea it was, as both Jenny and Ash were totally into the idea, Mallory and Bree were interested, while me and Kayla were kind of uncertain. I had had sex with Matt, my boyfriend, but being a 'slave' was a whole new level. I went along anyway, as I didn't want to be excluded. Besides, what is the worst that could happen? It was just role play for a day and a half. One thing we all agreed on, secrecy was absolutely required. Our parents would kill us if they found out, mine in particular.

The 'Slavery Act' as everyone called it had been passed a generation ago, and we all kind of knew about it, but only in general. It wasn't discussed in school, so most of our information came from rumors. I suppose I could have looked into myself, but I had a life to live. As it was, I knew more about the law than most, as my mom was almost a full time advocate for its repeal. That's why I could never let her find out what we were planning.

Abolitionists like her were convinced that women were being enslaved against their will, but supporters pointed out that no one had ever found a slave who agreed with that claim. Estimates were that approximately 0.5% of the female population had agreed to become slaves, and of course some criminals also agreed. Hey, don't do the crime if you can't do the time. At any rate, the Act was still very controversial. One thing the Act was very clear was that no slaves were allowed around kids under 18. The law was so strict, you couldn't even have one in the same house as a kid. As a result, some of us had never even seen one. I had seen one once on a trip to the city, when she was out in her 'slave robes,' an outfit that bore a striking resemblance to a red burka with the face uncovered.

Nonetheless, the concept was there, and I had to admit it did sound kind of hot, not having to study late into the night to keep your grades up, just being at the disposal of a hot, rich master. Not having to think for yourself, just giving in to pleasure. It was not for me, though, I worked hard at school and on soccer, I was driven. I was going to college to learn to help my mom's foundation overturn the law, but I could still see the appeal for some girls. Apparently, 'Slave' parties were a thing at fraternities. Being accused of being 'slave wet' was a slur directed at girls by rude boys, or being told you have a 'slave mentality.' I was grateful that the guys me and my friends were dating weren't immature like that.

Matt, my boyfriend, was great and easy on the eyes. Tall, dark, and handsome. He was 20 of course, as were all the other guys in our senior class. Politicians had finally agreed with the research that boys mature much slower than girls, so guys spent two extra years in middle school. The extra years of schooling had finally closed the test score gap between boys and girls and had resulted in near parity in college enrollment. I found Matt so much nicer than boys my age. If I was going to play slave, Matt would be a great candidate for a master. So I swallowed my vague concerns and played along.

The existence of slave women resulted in a whole industry catering to free women who wanted to toy with the idea, kind of like a vacation from reality. There were all sorts of different 'slave spas' that offered a variety of different experiences, some pretty harsh, others quite soft. It was the latter kind that Ash booked us into. We lied to our parents, telling them we were just going out for a 'girls weekend' at a resort, when in reality we would be getting slave graded and spending a weekend playing slave. No guys, of course, just us girls and the staff.

The spa was actually run by a slave, Sparkle, an incredibly beautiful woman who just oozed sexiness. I'm not even a little gay and I gawked at her. She was dressed in a shimmery red translucent tunic that definitely caught the eye. It was the first time any of us had ever actually met a slave, and she seemed happy with her life. She had been a business executive, MBA and all, before trading it all in to be a slave. Her master had her run the spa while he worked and then...well I guess he used her as he wanted when he got home. She explained that she couldn't 'advise us' to become a slave any more than she could advise us to be straight or gay, that it was something each of us had to decide on her own. While I had no interest in becoming a slave, interacting with her definitely put a new spin on the whole concept.

Sparkle told about 'slave haze,' a mental state that a slave slips into when they embrace their slave soul. It happens when you release yourself from your burdens and live to please your master. Everything just seems right and you feel as if doing the bidding of your master is the best idea ever. It sounded kind of weird, but okay. She also asked that we embrace the role we were playing.

"It's no fun to just dress up and act normal," she said, "While here, get in the mindset of a slave. Live it, believe it, because in a few days you will be going back to your normal life."

It sounded like good advice to me, and I tried my best to imagine that I was actually a slave. Sparkle interviewed us to find out what kind of experience we wanted. Ash wanted to go all out, but Mallory wanted to go easy. Sparkle counseled us that, since it was our first time, we ought to take the easy route, so we agreed. We looked at the brochure and planned out our weekend. Sparkle taught us the basics of slavery, the seven slave poses, including the slave squat. She told us that slaves were to be clean-shaven, no hair below the eyebrows. I had taken care of that already.

She taught us that a slave struts with her eyes down and arms by her side. While a master could have his slave do the poses naked, at this spa I did them in my bikini bottoms. Ash and Jenny did them completely naked. We did have to get totally naked once, and standing completely bare in front of my friends was intimidating, but I endured. I couldn't help but imagine how it would feel to have to do that in front of a guy...I mean master. Or a real slave grader for that matter. So far only Matt had seen my body.

We also learned about punishments, flogging, spanking and caning. Other, harsher punishments were mentioned but only in passing. At first, I turned down trying them out, but Ash and Jenny each agreed to get caned. In the end the rest of us tried it also. The caning was done bottomless, and holy shit that stung, fortunately just one strike. I couldn't help but stare at the red welt across my bottom, wondering how in the world I would explain it to mom if she saw it.

A big part of the weekend was practicing slave skills. We practiced looking lustfully at our master, rotating the roles of master and slave between us as Sparkle coached. We talked about intimate things, how far we had gone with our boyfriends. So much so I learned that Jenny and Bree had been friends with benefits for about a year. We each got a slave name, and mine was Cummy Cat. The name was based on our own sexual tendencies. In my case, I had admitted I loved the taste of cum, the feeling of a guy cumming in my mouth. Mallory admitted she moaned a lot during sex, so she got the name Moaner, and so on.

One of the major skills we practiced was learning oral techniques. We started at a table with a new dildo still in its box. After opening the boxes, we practiced giving blow jobs. The dildos were incredibly life-like, other than being purple, and had sensors in them that could rate how good you were doing. Sparkle gave us instructions, and as we worked we could track our effectiveness on the screen. It was all new to me; previously, when I had sucked off Matt I pretty much just went at it and had gotten no complaints. Discovering there were ways to improve the experience was interesting and I couldn't wait to try it out on Matt. When you were 'successful' in completing your practice blow-job, a bitter vegan fluid was pumped into your mouth. After a few hours I had learned to conquer my gag reflex.

The food was wonderful, and after dinner we just hung out in a room that looked a lot like I imagined a harem would look like in the olden days. The only bad thing for me was the night. We were all together in a dimly lit room, giving me no opportunity to relieve the stress that had built up between my thighs.

On Sunday we held our graduation competition, where we all got to display our new skills and get graded. Sparkle coached us up, and as we were all smart and competitive girls, we all want to be the best. The final part was a simulation of three different blowjobs. The spa had mannequins with dildos attached so that we could demonstrate our blow job skills. This was done by putting on VR goggles and headphones, which allowed us to 'see' the man we were blowing. While on your knees looking up at the VR generated man you were blowing, it was hard not to believe it wasn't a real man. Different men reacted differently, and you had to adjust your technique based on his reactions, and we had three different scenarios.

The first scenario for me was pretty tame, just blowing a guy in a bedroom. The second one was blowing a guy in a library in the stacks. It felt so real, my ears on alert as I listened to hear if anyone was going to walk down our aisle and discover me. The third one really got to me, though. I was on my knees in a crowd at an outdoor concert, blowing a man while others watched and made comments.

"Hey, she looks like she loves it!"

"What a good slave, take him deep."

"No, Dave, I won't, I'm not a slave."

"Are you loaning her out?"

The VR was quite good and it was almost believable. Finally, when the man 'came,' articulated hands gripped your head as you received your prize. Bree won the final competition, with me coming in second. The memory of the three 'guys' I had blown stuck in my mind. I wondered if I should count them as actual blowjobs, since they looked like real men to me.

Then, finally, Sparkle graded us. It was unofficial, of course. I got a Prime Minus, but I certainly wouldn't be surprised if that was inflated. I know I'm pretty, but all of us got a Prime Minus except for Jenny and Bree who were awarded full Prime. Sparkle mentioned that an actual grading is much more intrusive, but I really didn't care. She also said that if you didn't want to become a slave, all you had to do was not orgasm. Failure to orgasm is taken as an indication that you either were not sensitive enough to be a slave or are not doing it voluntarily. I just nodded, it's not like I was ever going to do that. All in all the weekend fueled an interest in our planned post prom party with the guys. This was going to be epic.

The plan for the after-Prom slave party was the responsibility of the guys. All we knew was that after Prom finished Friday night, they would whisk us away to start our slave weekend. Asking questions just led to the refrain 'slaves have questions, masters have answers.' It actually did sound like a lot of fun, and I spent many nights fingering myself to blissfulness as I imagined serving Matt like a good slave. I started to really appreciate the fantasy. During our dates I still played it straight, as I was not an actual slave. He had to compliment me, hold the door open, pay for dinner. Afterwards I might reward him, or not if I wasn't in the mood. Usually I was in the mood and I really enjoyed practicing some of my new oral skills on him. Hoping to make him more excited, I got him hot and bothered before I turned him down after our last date before prom. I told him I wanted him to get extra aggressive after prom. Also, I refrained from masturbating in the week leading up to the prom, wanting to be extra sensitive for my...master.

One day after class Matt pulled me aside. Apparently the guys had made some sort of bet about which of us girls was going to be the worst at playing slave. Matt actually seemed a bit concerned, even though he wouldn't tell me what he bet. He seemed worried that I would not be able to hold up my end of the deal. I assured him I was all in and that I wouldn't disappoint him. I asked him what they had planned for us and he booped my nose.

"Slaves have questions...," he winked and walked away.

Prom night finally arrived and the wool was suitably pulled over parental eyes. They thought we were just going to the mountains for a post-prom party, which I guess in a way we were. I was in a blue shoulder-baring gown, hair down like Matt liked it, makeup light but perfect. Matt was dashing in his tuxedo, and the other couples were as lovely. There was a definite sexual tension in the limo as we arrived at the hall that was hosting the prom. The prom was great, we danced a lot, took plenty of pictures, but finally it was time to go. The guys led us out and then, in the first surprise of the night, led us further into the building to another ballroom.

Jason brought forth a case and we each took out a collar. I vaguely noticed it was a lot more substantial than the play collars we had used at the spa, but thought nothing of it. A pit formed in my belly as I realized our slave party was starting. We were in a row, the guys facing us, and we gave our little slave speech, speaking it together as we had practiced, committing ourselves to slavery for the weekend, and agreeing to the punishment scale. We handed our dates our slave collars. One by one we were all collared by our new masters. Something clicked in my mind as Matt put the collar on me. I looked up at him and everything just felt different. I was no longer a girl with dreams and ambitions, I was a slave whose only purpose was to please my master. I felt dreamy and turned on despite no longer being in control of my life.

Music started playing and we danced again. I smiled up at Matt as we swayed across the floor, and then suddenly I felt him start to tug down my zipper. I tensed and glanced around, seeing Bree's zipper also being opened, revealing her bra strap. A flush washed over me as I felt the zipper finally bottom out. Matt stopped us, and with a shrug my dress fell to the floor. I heard similar rustles behind me, knowing that all my friends were being similarly undressed. Matt looked at me with a smile.

"Slave, take care of your dress. Go hang it up."

He pointed to a rack across the room, and I gingerly stepped out of my dress before collecting it and clutching it to my chest as best I could. Down to my bra, panties and heels, I had to walk past the other guys, feeling their eyes on my bare skin as I passed. I had picked my lingerie to be seen and to inspire, but I had never considered that it would be seen by so many. After we had all hung up our dresses, the rack automatically closed and locked them away. I gasped at the realization that our slave night really was starting. With an embarrassed glance at the other girls we returned to our masters, now unable to meet the eyes of the other guys as I hurried back.

The music started again and I finally looked back at Matt, the feel of his tux against my mostly bare skin reinforcing the power dynamic between us. I felt a little light-headed and absently wondering if I was slipping into 'slave haze.' His eyes drifted from mine, looking out at the scantily clad girls behind me as we danced. My heart jumped again as I felt his hand find my bra clasp, an eager grin on his face as he opened it. The tension released and it fell to the floor. He looked down at my bare breasts for a long moment before speaking the words I feared.

"Slave, go put your bra away with your dress."

I kept my head down the whole way, eyes glued to the ground, following the panty clad bottoms of my friends. I held my bra against my breasts, trying to shield them from view as I moved between the other guys. I put it in the locker over my dress and glanced at Bree, who looked as red as I felt. I paused before turning around, trying to control myself. I knew better than to cover up, although every fiber of my being desperately wanted to. I was about to turn, but then Mallory covered herself with her hands and ran back, and I followed suit. I dashed head down to Matt, hands covering myself as I ran. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kayla and Bree also running while covering up. I plowed into Matt, huddling against him for coverage, my breath coming short pants from embarrassment.

"Slave, what are you doing," he asked.

I looked up to him and saw a harshness in his face that hadn't been there before. I stuttered my apology, I knew a slave shouldn't cover up. I dropped my hands and showed my breasts to him, hoping he would be pleased. He wasn't.

"Go back to your bra like a proper slave and then walk back here. Do not embarrass me again or you will be punished."

I began to mouth a protest but his face hardened even more. It was my first indication that perhaps I had underestimated the boundaries of the weekend. Heart in my throat, I turned around, forcing my arms at my side. I walked to the lockers at a measured pace, noting that all the girls except for Ash were also being sent back. I tried to keep my eyes ahead, trying not to glance at the guys staring at my chest as I passed them. I had walked around topless before, alone of course, but somehow had never` noticed just how much my breasts jiggled as I walked. My face was burning in embarrassment, made worse from the knowledge that my nipples were hard. I touched the locker, took a deep breath, and turned to return to Matt. Looking in his eyes as I approached, he seemed satisfied.

"Good slave," he grinned as I returned to his embrace, and I basked in his approval. We danced some more, and then he whispered in my ear the words I was expecting. "Time to get slave naked."

As he knelt before me I could see the same thing happening to the other girls, their masters slowly pulling down their panties. I had expected him to have me take my panties back to the locker, but instead he folded them carefully and put them in his pocket.

"Now I think it is time to meet the other guests," he said. I was still processing being naked in a large room when he took me by my hand and turned us to face Adam and Mallory. "Adam, how are you doing this fine evening?" he started.

My panicked eyes remained on the floor as I curled into Matt, half aware of Mallory doing the same thing. My knees were shaking so bad I thought I was going to fall down. I hadn't even realized I was covering myself with my other hand until Matt stopped me and forced me to stand correctly, arms by my side, back straight, facing Adam. A haze descended over my mind as I stood there, naked and on display as they talked. It barely registered as Matt guided us over to talk to Jason and Bree. For the first time I truly appreciated the term 'slave naked,' standing before fully dressed men while my body was exposed to their eyes. This little game went on until each couple had met all the others. I had no idea what words had been exchanged between Matt and the other guys, I was just silent eye candy. I was so lost in my own world I barely noticed the other girls, probably going through the same hell as me. Matt's gentle caress of my bare bottom jolted me out of my malaise and I looked up to him, still too stunned to speak.

"You're doing very well, slave. I'm proud of you. Over here."

"I'm proud of you." Somehow I took that statement and held onto it, as if it was the biggest compliment in the world. He walked us over to a pair of tables, and I noticed the other girls were there too. One by one we were helped up, Matt taking a firm grip of my bottom to lift me.