Slavery Games Ch. 01: Coaching

The Chief Editor decided I should investigate Slavery Games. This is the result. I suggest not to let children read this article, and those of you, dear readers, that are against the new slavery laws should read the "How to brew my own beer" article in this edition of our newspaper, instead of this one.

First off, I met Patrick Saint Andrew, the Slavery Games CEO.

"Hi, Mister Saint Andrew, could you explain to us what Slavery Games Ltd (SGL) is?"

"Err, Bridgett, can I call you Bridgett?"

"Well, I suppose you can."

"You can call me Patrick. Well, Bridgett, I would begin by explaining what SGL is not; if you permit it. SGL is not a Registered Slaver company."

"That means you cannot enslave people?"

"Well I don't like the 'enslave' word, but that's the idea. The Registered Slaver companies (RSCs) are the only ones the authorities allow to make a slave out of somebody. And we are not one of them. We work for them. Our job is to make volunteer-slavery popular."

"Perhaps we should explain the difference between 'volunteer' and 'legal' slavery, Mister Saint Andrew, shouldn't we?"

"Of course, and please call me Patrick. Legal slavery is when a courthouse decides somebody would be a slave. This person is then assigned to a Registered Slaver Company, which trains it to become a slave. It concerns homelessness and bankruptcy, mainly. At the opposite, with volunteer slavery, the future slave chooses its Registered Slaver Company. It chooses when it becomes a slave."

"But you cannot choose how long you will be a slave?" I interrupted.

"Not yet. I hope the law will change because most volunteers ask for it. Nowadays, this choice is definitive."

"Why do Registered Slaver Companies want you to make volunteer-slavery popular?"

"Oh, volunteer slaves are easier to train. Legal ones are in denial period and fight against their training. Volunteers have passed that step."

"But why would someone volunteer to become a slave?" I asked.

"You have never wondered yourself?" Patrick launched. I recognised I blushed a little. I'm glad temporary slavery doesn't exist otherwise our beloved Chief Editor would have asked me to test it!

"No matter" he continued, "First of all, there are some that are about to become legal slaves. Becoming a volunteer slave would allow them some choices that legal slavery denies them. But there are also a lot of people for which freedom is boredom. In fact, they would prefer to have someone else decide for them. They would prefer not to be 'in charge'. But it is difficult to say, difficult to realize. Our society promotes being 'in charge'. Our games allow them to play at being a slave, and perhaps to choose to become one" Patrick explained. I was surprised to hear this.

"They choose to become a slave, or they lose?" I asked.

"It's the same! Losing is a way to choose to become a slave without having to say it!" I was shocked to hear that.

"The game you propose tomorrow is a crucifixion. Isn't that cruel?" I asked.

"Crucifixion has been a cruel death sentence. In our case, it is a game. First off, a doctor will be monitoring the players throughout the game. If their life is endangered, they are to be brought down. Second, all our gamers volunteered." He said playfully. From his face, I could tell he was enjoying the show in advance. Perhaps he was enjoying his benefice also.

"Do you think I could meet these people before the game?" I asked. How could someone volunteer for such a game? If he refused my request, I would be sure that the players did not volunteer.

"Of course, tomorrow's participants are in some of the cells below. You can meet them now. Of course, they may be scared, but you'll see that none of them has been forced to participate and perhaps they will convince you, or your readers, to book for the next time!" He said in a smile.

"How many of them?"

"6, 3 men, and 3 women. The games will be played simultaneously, but each gender is a category in itself." He began. I looked at him for more information.

"The first of each gender to be brought down will be a slave, the last of each gender will be the winner and will get 10% off the slave sales." He smiled.

"Is that enough compared to the risk of becoming a slave?" I asked.

"But they are not here for the money. They want the thrill of having to fight. They want the risk of becoming a slave." He explained. I shivered at that thought. I found it exciting for the first time. I thought again 'losing is a way to become a slave without having to ask for it.'

"Technically they are not slaves already. But they are locked to feel like they were" He explained.

"And imagine tomorrow when they will be led to the place naked" He continued. I thought of myself being forced to walk naked in a crowd. I crossed my legs. I had to concentrate on this article!

"What happens to the middle person, the second to be brought down?" I asked.

"It depends on the delay between the people being brought down. You understand, otherwise once the first one would have given up, the others would have followed." He explained. I thought about the misery of waiting on the cross, to avoid being enslaved.

"What about meeting the participant girls?" I asked.

"Here we go!" he said, "Do you want to stay alone with each of them?"

I couldn't hope for such a proposition, and as we were walking down the stairs I asked: "What will you do with the collar? It has to be engraved with the slaves name and number?"

"The collars the slaves will be fitted with will be fake ones, they will get their true ones after the show is over." he explained.

"It will be the new ones, one-inch wide steel band. They are to be welded around the slave's neck and have a nearly impossible to cut inside-frame. The only way to cut them is with a saw, but the steel temperature wouldn't be bearable. They also have RFID that station and airport would scan to find any escaped slaves," he explained. I have seen these collars, and I could say they are impressive, but I haven't worn one myself, and I'm glad for it.

"Here is Stephanie's cell!" he announced.

The cell itself seemed antiquated and the naked girl looked frightened inside it. As the door opened, she used her hand to shield her breast and pubic area. She was a little brunette with copper skin.

"Hi, I'm Bridgett, I'm a journalist, may I speak with you?" I asked. The girl was embarrassed I noticed.

"I suppose you may... I'm Stephanie" she said with her head bowed.

"How old are you Stephanie" she was so little and thin, I gave her 16 at most.

"I just turned 18, we waited for me to reach 18 to participate in one of SGL's games," she said blushing.

"Who is the 'we'?" I asked.

"Brittany and I, we made a bet to participate in this... game," she explained.

"But, you're conscious that one or perhaps both of you could be enslaved?"

"Yes! I'm so frightened... I would feel guilty if Brittany ended up as a slave," she said.

"You think you can handle the game?" I asked. I wondered how such a thin girl would be able to last on a cross.

"I think I could endure heat and sun. I'm not muscular, but I'm not fat," she justified.

I was in fear for the girl. But I couldn't say she would lose if I hadn't met her concurrent yet.

The next girl I met was Brittany. When her cell door opened, she was laying on her mattress. When she heard the door opening, she stood up and hid her breasts and pussy. She was uneasy but far less than Stephanie. Compared to Stephanie she was bigger and taller. She was blonde and her skin was milky white.

"Hi, I'm Bridgett, I'm a journalist, may I speak with you?" I asked. I saw Brittany relaxed.

"Of course. You wanted to know why I subscribed to this?" She replied. I smiled.

"You made a bet?" I tried.

"You already met Stephanie? Yes, I made a bet. She proposed it, I agreed and tomorrow she will be a slave!" she laughed.

"You're sure you will win?" I asked.

"Not at all! It will depend on who's the third one. I'm sure I can beat Stephanie. I trained with my coach making long running sessions. It's just my skin, I'll get sunburned, for sure!" She explained. I felt some fear at the end of her sentence, but Brittany seemed sure of herself.

"And what if you finished as a slave?" I asked.

"If I'm not able to beat Stephanie I would deserve it. I know I'm taking risks, otherwise, there would be no thrill!" She said smiling a forced smile.

She almost frightened me. Neither of them were conscious that they could become slaves for life. I then continued onto the third cell.

The woman in there was in her thirties and wore a string belt to which her hands were tied.

"Oh, Hi, I'm sorry, I can hardly move." said the woman.

"Ho... Why are you tied this way?" I asked. She looked at me and seemed uneasy.

"Oh... I asked for it, don't worry it's not an error. The purpose is to feel like a slave. So, I asked for it." she justified.

"Well, I was just surprised, as the other contestants were not tied..." I apologized.

"Why, were you coming to?" she asked. She looked confident, but in her voice, I felt fear.

"Oh! I'm a Journalist, Bridgett!".

"I'm Alejandra, I subscribed to this craziness," she said shrugging her shoulders.

"Why did you subscribe, for the money?" I asked.

"Of course not, for the feeling of being a slave for a few hours, for the fear to become one permanently. I know I'm kind of mad, but at least I'm not dangerous for the others," she laughed.

"And you're not afraid of becoming a slave?" I asked.

"I'm really scared... but it's what I want... being scared. Not becoming a slave!" She said blushing.

"How did you prepare?" I asked. I found her more interesting than the others that seemed too young and immature.

"I keep myself fit, and I didn't want to prepare, like if I had been sentenced... I'm sorry I'm in my own fantasy." She recognized. I began to like her fantasy.

"Do you think you can win, tomorrow?" I asked.

"Well, I have no idea. That's the thrill!" she replied and I saw how excited she was. I must recognise it was infectious.

"And you are ready to become a slave?" I continued.

"Of course not, but if it happens I hope I would be able to be a good player. When you lose you have to pay the price, it's not like we had not been informed. I just fear... You know... Being on the cross will be exhausting, and doing it and losing to become a slave, and being humiliated, and being collared in front of the people there... It can be... too much..." she explained. What marked me was how she rubbed her thighs together while explaining that. I think I was beginning to understand what Patrick Saint Andrew explained. Alejandra wanted to touch slavery, perhaps she wanted to become a slave without having to ask for it.

"You did not train, but do you have a coach?" I asked.

"Oh no, I'm my own coach you know. I was afraid my coach would bring me down too early, to have me enslaved!" she reacted.

"You're not serious, why would he do that? If you're enslaved, the coach has to participate in the next session!" I explained.

"I didn't know..." she began

"And if you're your own coach you will be brought down at your first asking. If you have a coach, you could discuss with him..." I explained further.

"But... it's too late, who will I ask to be my coach?" she wondered. I thought to myself, if I was her coach it would give me a special view of the contest. I was feeling something for Alejandra.

"Do you want me to ask Mister Saint-Andrew if I can be your coach?" I proposed. She took some time looking at me before replying.

"I don't know, I don't know you... But I suppose it is best I got someone..." she rambled.

A few minutes later Patrick joined us.

"I cannot say it is regular, but nothing forbids it. I suggest you decide a code for Alejandra to tell you 'I really need to finish this now!' so when she will say I want to be down, you will know it's difficult, but not that unbearable that she is ready to become a slave" he said while laughing.

"It seems to me a good idea," I added.

"Spirit, I will say spirit," Alejandra said. "3 times, spirit repeated 3 times," I insured.

"Yeah... spirit, spirit, spirit..." she said. It seemed to give her some reasurance.

"I want both of you to know that it is the coach's opinion that is the rule. Do you agree on that, Alejandra?" Patrick asked. I saw how she clamped her legs. "I agree," she declared.

After Patrick left, she looked at me, and said: "It makes you my mistress for the time being...until I'm brought down from my cross" I saw she had goose bumps.

"Is there something you need..." I laughed, and then I realized how wrong I was. She did not intend for me to be responsible for her. She meant she was about to service me! Once the surprise passed I felt a sensation of power over her. Is that what every Dom felt toward their slaves? I don't know.

"You like to feel like a slave?" I asked.

She blushed and did not dare to look at me.

"I do mistress... Sometimes I would dream of being a sex slave that has to ... to satisfy her masters," she explained. I saw she was uneasy and excited. She clamped her thighs one against the other. I wasn't sure what she meant.

"You mean sexually?" I asked for confirmation.

"Yes mistress!" she replied. Her face was red in embarrassment.

"Are you bisexual or homosexual?" I asked unbelievingly.

"Not that I know... but ... would you like to try ... I mean... me servicing you!" she continued while her cheeks were becoming red.

I thought I was straight heterosexual, but at that moment, I doubted. I was so excited. The slavery, the crucifixion, and finally Alejandra's proposition: I needed a release!

I pulled my skirt up, while looking at her, her wrists still locked to her belt. "Just do it!" I ordered. She kneeled, and I saw it wasn't easy without using your hands, then she came towards me. She was uneasy, I saw. She didn't know what to do. So was I. She kissed my underwear. I was sorry not to have a penis she would have sucked but felt the power I had over her. I wanted to shout orders and orders at her. I contained myself, to give her some time. After kissing just over where my clit is below my panties she began to rub her cheeks onto my pubis. It felt good. Then she looked at me and tried to get the waistband with her teeth. Such a thing is easy in porn stories, but here she was unable to do it.

I helped her in lowering the waistband, and she took the opportunity to get it in her mouth and lower it even more. Again, it wasn't that easy. I liked to see her trying to reach it. Eventually, she went to my pussy. I spread my legs for her and her tongue went between my floods. I moaned in pleasure, and I heard her moan in return. Then her tongue ran up and licked my clitoris. I could not suppress a "yes!". Then she continued to turn and to vacuum my clitoris, so I quickly reached an orgasm. I felt I owed her something.

"Thank you, Mistress, to let your slave service you," she said while staying kneeled in front of me. I hesitated. On one hand, I thought I should make her cum in return, on the other hand, she was in her slave fantasy, so I should be a cruel mistress and not let her cum until the next day. I wish I knew what she was thinking of. Once again, I thought of wanting to become a slave and not wanting to ask for it. I thought she wanted me to forbid her to cum, but she wouldn't be able to ask for it. Then I thought of the next day. I thought of the trial she would go through the next day. If she became a slave, I would be in her place awaiting the same trial. It was not in my best interest if she could not rest.

"You do not deserve it, slave. But you need to rest this night. So I knelt down next to her, and I turned her over, and let my hand reach her pussy. My god, how wet she was! I did not need to stroke her clitoris for very long before I saw the signs of an orgasm.

I don't know how the girls' night was but mine was haunted by antiquated images of crucifixion and sex melded together.

The place was closed, and a ticket was required to enter the event. Despite it being only 10:00 AM, many people were there to see the six people struggling on their crosses. I chose a black leather skirt to be Alejandra's coach. All of the coaches were waiting next to the main door that would open to let the 'condemned' enter the 'arena'. On the soil were six beams, and on the other side of the place there were the six pillars. Three on one side, three on the other. And, between the pillars were the stocks in which the losers would wait for the winners to finish their time on their cross.

"You've thought of everything!" I said to Patrick.

"No, I haven't but I have a clever team around me!" he replied as the main doors opened and the lorry went in. The back door opened, and they were there, sitting on benches with guards between them.

I thought the guards would be dressed as Roman soldiers, but no they weren't. Patrick's team chose a sober black outfit. The spectacle was not the guards, but the naked people they were escorting.

I realized at that moment that I had not visited the men. One was a muscular black athlete. The second was a blond thin white man, with some beard. He wasn't as impressive as the black one. The last one seemed to be a Latino. He was not big but a little fat. Perhaps I should have spent more time on the other side of the jail I thought.

Of course, the six of them were naked, and none of them was easy with that! Like the other coaches, I went to them. They had their hands cuffed in front of them and getting down from the truck required some help.

"Oh my god, it's about to happen!" is all Alejandra succeeded in saying.

Then two guards surrounded each of them, and their wrists were uncuffed. They had no time to notice that two other guards put a beam on the shoulders of each of them. The synchronicity of the process was hard to believe. So quickly were their wrists tied to the beam.

Whips were produced, but as soon as they heard that sound the prisoners began to walk around the place. They might have been prepared, as the men went on one side and the women on the other. Each group of three went along the border of the place, just in front of the crowd. The beams were heavy and their steps laboured. I looked at them. Some of them peered at the pillars. The others ignored them or tried to. It was the pillars they would hang from in a few minutes. There was some stress in the air.

'It's about to happen' I thought. 'Some of them will be slaves once we leave this place' I also thought. I swallowed, because if Alejandra was a slave by then, I would have to walk along this place with a beam on my shoulders. How would it feel to be exposed, naked like that I kept on wondering. Like the previous day, I felt a nice heat in my crotch.

The two groups crossed at the opposite side of the place and went by the pillars again, turning around them. The guards stopped the prisoners and helped them to stand back towards a pillar. Ropes dangling from the top of the pillars were tied to the end of the beams. The guards pulled on them, and the beams raised. The guards pulled again, all of them at once, and the beams raised again, but this time, the condemners' feet left the soil. Some moans of pain were heard. The guards pulled again. The feet were trying to find a support on the slick pillars. One more pulling and another pair of guards came to each pillar and caught the feet to tie them to the pillars. They tied the ankle's, so the legs were bent and spread. Each of them was displayed and had no way to hide his or her genitals. It must be so humiliating I thought. The guards were fixing the beams to the pillars now. With the other coaches, I went to support my crucified.

As I approached the pillar, I noticed holes on it. The guards were behind the pillar, then one held Alejandra by the cheeks and the other pushed something through one of the holes below her crotch. It went out on the side she was hanging and it was bent upward. A kind of dildo was right between her thighs. When the former guard let her cheeks drop Alejandra's crotch felt onto it. She moved and tried to find a way to thread it in her sex, but the end of the dildo was too short. The only way was for her to let it impale her anus. She struggled to avoid it. She tried again to get it in her pussy, but it was not possible, and from all the moaning all around the place, all of them were facing the same dilemma!