Slave Immigrant Ch. 28

After receiving a cloned body I immigrated 127 Light Years from Earth to Free Skyes. Unfortunately I had to work and pay for that cloned body and I had very few skills a high tech society could use. So it was either I become an Unskilled Labourer or a Sex Slave. In the end I guess Human Recourses had figured me out correctly. All those years in BDSM chat-rooms and websites were tracked alright, but not by Homeland Security. I was a 24/7 Bonded Sex Slave with a 5 million credit debt to pay off. Worse still I didn't have any say on how or what I would be doing, I wasn't a citizen. After taking a Citizenship Test all that changed. I had choices and options, by remaining a slave/citizen I paid about 2 million back through earned commissions as a prostitute and sales of Slave Beer.

For reasons beyond my control I thought I caught a cold. You catch a cold, yea, sneeze in your elbow, wash hands, maybe even wear a surgical mask to keep from infecting other people. As it turns out after a hundred years of finally eradicating diseases a simple cold becomes a deadly virus and if you don't call in EMS immediately you are arrested and put into a high security hospital. I'm also going to b punished for that, there was no way of getting around that, so I'll tell about it when it happens as this story rolls along.

Now for some unusual reason I'm the Planetary Governor's Cousin eight times removed. This is a matter of having a DNA similar to his race and family by 62.8% so I'm no longer an Earth Human. I guess you could compare me to child offspring of two races and leave it at that. I don't know why but he likes me and has paid for me to have language training so that I could read a couple books written by 'Relatives' of his on the Heredshe.

Heredshe, is a description of their sun, her-red-she, the red sun which is the mother of all life on the planet. The planet evolved differently than our home planet. Almost all species there do not have wombs as you would put it in Earth terms. In many cases two creatures would meet, the female would take from the male a seed, fertilizer it, and then place the seed into or on another creature to hatch their off-spring.

The best example of this would come from observing the primates at the Keeper 2 National Zoo on Heredshe Prime's southern region. The dominant female would court the strongest male and induce him into having sex with her. She would then force herself on either a lesser male or female or her won species and through anal sex impregnate them. The Zoo Keepers have to keep track of these activities and work hard to prevent insect and have their dwindling population from dying out.

As for the human population of Heredshe people are self restricting, but the Planetary Registry of Births and Marriage has a very specific purpose. More than that, it helps them keep track of which households and persons are more likely to produce talents. For a household to have a submissive male talent, the breed with a female talent could hopefully produce enough Clairvoyants to keep the family buoyant. So science aside, I kept asking myself why men are second class citizens. The answer got bonded with politics and religion.

At the same time Prince Johanass was ripping the Middle Kingdom apart a tribal war with nuclear weapons happened on Heredshe. At that time Heredshe was ruled by political male elite, while their religion was ruled by females. Nations and families hid in bunkers for a very long time. The men became sick and not wishing to give up their power ruled from their beds, which became their prisons. Their dominant wives took over, men found themselves tied to their beds and the ruling elite died in their beds.

The revolt united the female politicians with the female led religion. Power deals were made and the planet eventually united under a false banner of universal freedom. Women had the freedom to lead, but men, became subservient seed givers and child bearers. The political social revolution took place.

The gene where the Human body can produce lubricant making sexual insertion possible and pleasurable while originally being prevalent in both sexes of Heredshe was suppressed in the female population. While many humans may have their tonsils removed Heredshe women have them removed in their female children to prevent sexual submission. To other simply ignoring the gland is often enough to prevent this from happening.

So while the female tentacle/clitoris can self impregnate, or any other human, including a primate, human males are preferred. Hormonal changes caused by pregnancy can make them submissive. Changes to Heredshe in itself took even more time. Even today male and female children are taught separately and a separate sets of moralities. With the help and direction of the Coalition's Planetary Governor, changes are being made. After looking over the final books; I made up my mind to make some changes in our version of the Heredshe House of the Thunders, and promote that change too.

"Finally," the tribunal judge looked down at me, "you are to be fined the cost of your hospitalization and taken to a place of execution. They you shall be whipped in a prescribed manor and in accordance with your plea-bargain make a public announcement warning others of your crime against society. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"Thank you for allowing me to speak," I said daring to took up and back at the three judges, one man, a stern looking woman, and another woman from the Wild Cats. I guess I could have said a lot of things, but what could I? My lawyer and Uncle Paul's lawyers did the best they could. So now it was my turn. "I guess the difference between a slave and a citizen is that a slave forgets to think sometimes. I wish to thank my lawyers and you representatives of the Ministry of Justice for pointing out my grievous crimes against society, and thank the gods nobody but myself has been hurt. I hope this never happens again."

I bowed my head and waited. Uncle Paul stood next to me during the trial. He told me Charles, Dianna, and the rest were too busy, and he didn't want them to make fools of themselves. The gavel landed, and the police officers came to lead me away. They were very polite, and I followed them.

"This case is close," the three judges concluded and banged their gavels. Uncle Paul sat down with what looked like a female sex-a-terry standing next to him with his brief-case. It was Mandy in disguise; he wanted to have it around to carry me home.

The whipping with a judicial cane is no different than any other. Uncle Paul had to stand in aFriends of the Prisoner's Boxto watch. There were news cameras as always, but I couldn't be as confident as I was at the Boom-boom Room Balcony. From where I stood somebody was behind Uncle Paul and talking to him. I tried to focus and listen in, but the boom of the marshal music and sting of the cane filled my head. I repeated my apology over and over again, in several languages but the strokes continued. At twenty I was crying, it hurt so much. Twenty-five, I was screaming, welts from my hips to just above my knees and my poor ass. At thirty I could feel something cold running down my legs. I looked down and I was bleeding. I screamed, but couldn't pass out but just take the pain. The punishment stopped at thirty-six. I've heard of people who too that many before, but never in real life considered it. I half walked, half staggered off the platform and fell to the ground.

"Get up and walk out of the Punishment Court," an official voice snarled down at me. At first I thought it was Bill the Cane Master, but it was just another Middle Kingdom cop working for the Justice Department. "The cameras are watching," he told me. "Now you can lie there and cry your miserable little slave eyes out for all I care. I'm getting triple time for being here and watching you bleed. So do you want to cry like a silly slave, or get up and be a man?"

"You're the pride of the Middle Kingdom," I snarled as I got up. "Ever thought of becoming a Motivational Speaker," I half smiled as I forced the pain away and walked towards the door.

"Only if you were in a Cadet Uniform," he snarled back at me. "Are you really Prince Johnass's son?"

"Fuck no," I told him, "he'd have a hard-on after all of this." He looked down at my naked cock. "Got-ay," I laughed. That stopped him for a moment.

"No wonder Uncle Paul says he's interested in your mind," snarled the Sergeant. "You're a smart-ass officer."

"Thanks for the complement Sergeant," I said stopping and getting a good look at him. "Sorry you won't get too much triple-time," I got moving. I was sore and leaving a trail of blood but I made it to the door with a bright set of lights flashing over it.

A medical orderly of some sort grabbed me in his strong arms and laid me on a cot. He was an older fellow seemed very strong and was from the Middle Kingdom, probably ex-military. He quickly swabbed my ass clean of blood and sprayed some cool liquid on me. He quickly explained what he was doing as he worked.

"No instant-heal for you," he told me quickly. "This is the same stuff we use on combat soldiers in the field. It will leave no scar, but you will hurt like hell for a few days. Even Ancients hate this stuff sir." I could hear what sounded like a roll of duct-tape being unrolled. "This is Surga-heal Tape," he continued. "This stuff will heal, prevent bleeding, and leave you without a scare. But you have to leave it on till it falls off. No pulling or it will rip the scabs off, peel off skin, and well then it's in for some very expensive surgery at your cost sir." He actually slapped me on the bottom." You got that?"

"Auggghhhh," I gasped, "yes sir I got that."

"Don't call me sir," he smacked my bottom again, "if you stopped whining you would see my name tage, it's Sergeant Tookson." He slapped my bottom again, "and if necessary you will get slapped and it will not slow this process. I told your owner that too you silly slave."

"Yes Sergeant," I had to gasp, "Thank you Sergeant."

He finally let Uncle Paul, Mandy and my Lawyer Antony into the room. Mandy quickly got me dressed in Company Regulation business suit which included a mid calf length skirt. Anthony looked amused while Uncle Paul listened very carefully to Sergeant Tookson.

"So you can spank him," explained the Medic, "just not too hard or long. One good swat will bring back the memory of today for the next three days. And if he's a sixty percent type like they day by day four he'll be completely healed and the bandages will fall off. And he can be bathed, although I think a hot-tub will be very painful to him. Raw nerve ending and all. Have a good day sir."

"Here's something for your trouble," said Uncle Paul handing him a plastic card.

"Sir I can't accept financial compensation, this is a free service."

"Take a good look at it," insisted Uncle Paul, "it's a one year free family adult pass to all our live shows at Action Network. You can even take your family or 5 friends to any show. Including our new live broadcast of theHouse of the Thunders on Thursday afternoons. So it's not money, you can accept that."

"Well," sighed the Sergeant, "I've heard so much about the Sex Ed Show, okay. What would happen if I come with 5 friends in Uniform?"

"Then my announcer will have to have you all stand and take a bowel on camera; if you don't mind?"

"That would be fun," smiled the Sergeant.

"They told me to do something other than physically punish you," Uncle Paul said to me as he pointed to the door. I got up and limped after him. "I'm going to have to think up a good punishment for you," he snickered. I could hear Uncle Paul's half insults half compliments but there was something about Anthony and the Medic that seemed off. He lingered with the Medic for a moment.

"Nice to see you again Son of Took," chuckled Anthony. I was surprised that Anthony was familiar with the Welsh term of being Took, is to be somewhat crazy.

"I see your Mistress still doesn't let you off the chain," the Medic chuckled back.

"Still shows," asked Anthony feeling his crotch.

"Nope," laughed the Medic, "now it does." Anthony shrugged and quickly ran after Uncle Paul and myself.

"I don't know why you're still here," Uncle Paul told Anthony directing him into the back of a hover-cab.

"Rich or poor," chuckled Anthony, "he's still my client." Uncle Paul sat beside Anthony and then pulled me inside across their laps.

"Mandy go back to the house and wait for us there," Uncle Paul ordered before shutting the door.

"He's still getting his regular pay cheque," Anthony asked quietly.

"Yea," sighed Uncle Paul, "it will be in his account on Friday." Then to me, "that's the last of your vacation/holiday pay."

"I get holiday pay," I had to ask.

"Of course you do," snapped Anthony as he smacked me on the head. "I got the wrong end here."

"His ass will get spanked enough," added Uncle Paul. "Two weeks, more like four, the idiot." Then back to me, "you'll be on the set this afternoon shooting Xmas announcements."

"How many," asked Anthony, "and what about the suits?"

"He'll only wear the upper half," snapped Uncle Paul, "and while the Sponser's are around you'll wear this skirt." He added with a light but painful pat on the butt. I groaned because it did hurt. "When they leave it comes off, somebody needs a little humiliation."

"Thank you Uncle Paul," I said as evenly as possible.

"That sounds like slave sarcasm," smiled Anthony.

"Hummm," pondered Uncle Paul. "He would have to thank me for the punishment, and be sincere about it. Are you being sincere?"

"Trying," I moaned knowing full well I would get a painful smack. "I know I have to be thankful and in sub-space, but I'm not getting too much of a chance to do that."

"I wonder if I should tell him," Uncle Paul asked Anthony.

"Look I'm getting confused here too," confessed Anthony.

"Then you two can figure it out by Monday and give me a written essay," smiled Uncle Paul. "No cheating," he snarled at Anthony, "did you get all that," he talked to the ceiling. The window to the cab operator opened and Lady Fantomina looked in.

"Yes Uncle Paul," she chuckled, "do a good job Anthony or I'll take you to a Cruise'n Bar that evening."

"Yes Mistress," he groaned.

We arrived at the Ringo Building and took the public walk into the station. Antony and his Mistress too the cab back to, whatever they do during the day as we went inside. For the most part the Ringo Building seemed it's mundane usual, people in conservative clothing going about their business. Inside the Offices of Live Action Network it was a homecoming.

"Welcome back Al," was on a banner above reception followed by balloons and cheers. I guess Uncle Paul had it all timed, because it was noon and everybody was on a Lunch break. All the offices including people from staging showed up to celebrate.

"People should get sick around here more often," laughed Uncle Paul. "Okay," he called their attention, "cut the cake, then finish your lunch and get back to work."

"Who brought the cake," asked Charles.

"We did," laughed the office staff as the girls brought out a cake done in three part.

"We couldn't agree on which flavour," laughed Coco.

"So we did three parts," added another.

"Hey," Charles gave me a warm hug.

"I missed you," I sobbed into his shoulder.

"I know," he replied as his hand felt my ass and I gasped in pain. "It can wait a few more day."

"Oh," I groaned again. "Where's Mistress Dianna?"

"On the set getting ready for tonight's live show," laughed Charles. "Did you forget today is Thursday."

"Hey," called Amadeus, "what we all want to learn is; what did they fine you."

"That right," asked one of the reporters, "all official reports is that you were punished and fined. What is the fine?"

"You don't have to know that," said Charles who did know.

"No," I confessed, "they should know, because I wasn't thinking, I was a silly slave. They wiped out my saving and put me further into debt towards society."

"How much," somebody from the back asked.

"Five Million," I laughed, "I'm five million in debt again," I was honestly crying. "I can't even buy a can of soda from the machine if I get thirsty." This brought everybody down.

"Ah, there's a free drink table in the studio," Uncle Paul laughed and then to his audience of employees. "And pay day is tomorrow; his pay comes into his back account tonight. He's a Junior-Executive earning five figures, when he's not a slave sucking cock for fucking somebody. This is what we in the World of Comedy callIrony. So laugh, dance, party, this is what life is all about. Al just beat Mister Death; let's piss him off even more and get laid." He smacked Cupcake on the bottom and half carried her out of the room.

"Cue announcer," ordered the Director.

"Good afternoon," I smiled at the camera.

"CUT," screamed the Floor Director. Mickey Witch was a middle range Acting Director who compensated for his lack of motivation capabilities by wearing classic director's uniform of riding pants, high boots, silk shirt, beret and a riding crop that he used often enough. This off-set his reddish colour skin that marked him of the planet Jahss a desert planet that was once an illegal drug centre. "Al, I want you to be happy warm, you look like you just had a glass of sour milk."

"Yes sir," I cringed no wanting the crop to land again. He was very gentle with me while the Sponsors were around. Once they left I was naked except for my bandages from the waist down. He even gave my balls a few wicked twists to motivate me too.

"Give him a can of Slave Beer," he ordered. Then to me, "now drink it all." I gulped the can down and let out a belch. "Do you need to go relieve yourself Mister Jones," he politely asked me.

"Yes sir."

"Read the cue-card," he smiled. "All in one take quickly and maybe we'll let you go. Let's do it again."

"Test pattern," called the Director, as electronic recorders began rolling, colour registers were taken. "Camera One, ..... and .... cue announcer."

"Good afternoon," I smiled pleasantly, "this afternoon's story is Rock DJ's A Year's End Dream. Rock DJ has had a career that went from staggered beginning, a crash to the top, and then through misfortune cashed to becoming a Bonded Slave DJ at the Boom-boom Room." I chuckled and winked to the camera, "it could have been worse. With that he came to an agreement to re-write and star in the timeless classic remake of an Earth Classic, a Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. It was a ghost story if you could believe it and the only scary Years End story from Earth's Past which is re-done and translated through many systems. So sit back relax and enjoy another Year's End Classic."

"And cut," called the Director, "I think we have a good one sir."

"Checking the playback," said Mickey as he watched a set-up of a grainy cheep TV next to a plasma TV. "Good, good quality; we'll keep it."

"Thank you," I said and headed towards the nearest rest-room.

"Where in the Name of the Dark one are you going slave," he snapped.

"I have to take a pee," I whined.

"Fine," he took a metal bucked walked up on the stage and put it beside my mark. "You can piss in here."

"Yes sir," I sighed and went up to the podium and pulled open my panties.

"Take the panties off," he ordered.

"Yes sir," I submitted and took them off. I wasn't in any sort of chastity, my owners trusted me. I pointed towards the bucket and let go. Humiliating as it was it was a relief.

"Stop now," he ordered and the crop tapped my ass.

"Ouch," I gasped and cut myself off. "But I still have to go."

"Well we haven't got the time," he snarled, "ya little Primia-donna. Your Sponsors are not here to protect you. Now get to work."