Sex Slave Lottery Ch. 02

Chapter 2

The application

It was a couple days before I saw Mr. Anderson again. He came right out and asked me if I'd seen the lottery.

"Yes," I said.

"Well, what did you think, Dawn?"

"It's got to be a fraud, women would not do that."

"How are you so sure."

"Really, take a chance of being a sex slave or worse for the rest of your life."

"You don't know what they were offered, Dawn. For a small risk, you could make a lot of money."

"I don't see how it could be that much," I said, "they have to pay 100 woman to risk the rest of their lives."

"You don't know the chief of Bolry, Pyotr Toltski, with oil, natural gas, and control of several pipelines, he could put up millions on a whim. Are you going to apply?"

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Yes I do, but even if you weren't crazy, you could still fill out the application just to see what they would pay you."

"You're sick," is how I finished the discussion, but I sent an email to the address for the application materials.

The application materials came back promptly. Naturally, the Lottery wanted a number of pictures, including at least one recent picture of me in a bikini or less. They asked about my personal situation, and asked whether I had any dependents or relatives who would be hurt badly if I went off and never returned. There were also a lot of detailed questions about my sex life, what turned me on, and whether I had or had ever had any communicable diseases.

They also had a bunch of FAQs about travel arrangements (flight through London), money payments (only 20% up front as they could not grab me from my home if I took money and did not make the plane), what to wear and that I could not be on the show when I was having my period. Also, they answered a question I should have thought about but didn't – How do I know I will not just be taken and sold into slavery in Bolry whether I lose the lottery or not? To answer this question they said that if they made me an offer, they would give me a list of names and numbers for reaching recent contestants in places outside Bolry to talk about their experiences. Also, I could confirm arrangements with my home "sponsor." Further, every three months, every sex slave would be allowed to call home to whomever she pleased to confirm that she was being treated as a sex slave and no worse.

The FAQs also said that as a sex slave I would be a very valuable piece of property and would be well cared for but that I would have absolutely no right to say no to any safe act of a sexual nature and that I would have to be prepared to engage in every form of sex without hesitation 24 hours a day.

The FAQs also said that if I wanted a chance of more money and was willing to risk literally everything, I could enter the lottery as a potential chattel slave. If I lost having entered the lottery in that fashion, I would have no rights at all. I might well be mutilated or die under torture; in fact it was likely.

My first thought was, "What's this talk about a sponsor?" I had a good idea, but anyway, I sent in the information figuring that couldn't hurt. I had a lot of recent bikini pictures taken at the health club. Just for fun, I sent in the nude pictures from 7 years ago and said I still look like that under the swimsuit. I checked the box saying that I was willing to risk becoming a sex slave but not an animal that could be slaughtered at the whim of some very rich pervert.

The Decision

The response to the application came the following day. They would give me $10,000 to take the 1/100th chance of becoming a sex slave and there would be no deduction for taxes or social security. That was about one-third of my take home pay for a year, but this was nuts. I could picture myself like that Spanish woman being taken off to be an expensive prostitute for as long as I was good for that.

I went and found my "sponsor."

"You asshole, you were setting me up for this. Does it amuse you to think I would degrade myself this way for money?"

Anderson replied, "Yes, it does amuse me and I don't think you'd just be doing it for the money. What did they offer you?"

"$10,000"

"For the safer choice"

"Of course, I did not even want to think about the other."

I asked, though, "$10,000 does not make sense. If they are paying each woman $10,000, each slave is costing them a million bucks."

"But they are probably offering you a lot more than some very poor Chinese or Nigerian woman who might be happy to be a well fed slave. Also, you are a knockout and even paying a million dollars is not so much when you think of all they are making on the show subscriptions and on slave 'rentals' later."

"I guess you are right, you guys are always thinking about angles even though you let your pricks do most of your thinking."

"So, when are you leaving?"

"I did not say I was leaving. Even if it wasn't crazy to go, I have work to do for your company, and plan to go on a trip to the coast with Crystal and Stacy."

"You can certainly have time to go to Bolry, in fact, just for fun, you can have paid time off and even have $2000 to see London on the way back. It's too early in the year to go to the coast now, you can go to Bolry and London and then go to the coast in a month or two."

"Thanks, asshole, I will think about it." Then I walked off.

I thought about it a lot. It's pretty much all I thought about. I could use the $10,000 and the whole idea of taking such a risk excited me. But then I thought of the downside. I couldn't decide whether this was better or worse than being a prostitute, surely worse if I lost.

Anyway, I looked at the list of numbers with pictures of contestants and called Connie and asked her what happened after she was excused.

"Well, she said, it's wise of you to check with someone, but there is really nothing to worry about in terms of being ripped off or kidnapped. They are all perfectly nice and generous while you are there and hand you a big check as soon as you leave the studio. The checks cleared my bank immediately. I've now done it twice, and, despite the near miss, I'm thinking of doing it again. After all, one- one hundredth risk is one- one hundredth risk whether you are risking it the first time or the hundredth time."

"Are you sure the loser becomes a slave," I asked.

"Yes', she replied.

Still, I knew I had to go.