Spouse Slaves

I've read several stories about judicial slavery becoming legal. I thought that I would take a crack at that. I took some inspiration from Gamblnluck's series Slave Camp. It's a good read, and I recommend taking the time to read the entire series. As with his stories, Judicial slavery has been legalized in the US. Instead of being sent to prison, convicts are sold at auction as slaves. This is the story of a husband and wife that commit a crime, are convicted, then sold. No, it isn't real. This is a fictional account in a fictional near future.

OK, so some disclaimers, although I'm sure that there will be at least one comment about it anyway. All characters are over the age of consent. That means that they are at least 18-years old. This story contains sexual content. Yes, sexual encounters are described herein. There is incestual contact in this story. That means that this story contains scenes of sexual contact between immediate family members. This story contains non-consent and reluctant sexual contact. It also contains scenes of BDSM. There is forced feminization in this story. This story has aspects of male domination, female domination, lesbianism, forced male homosexuality, forced lesbianism, and just plain forced sex. It is about a straight married couple that are forced to become slaves with a strong sexual content. If you are strongly offended by any of the above, there are plenty of other stories for you to read. If you think I did a bad job writing this, feel free to write your own story. If you feel that I've stopped too soon, feel free to write a sequel, just reference this story in your intro. I do self-edit and have absolutely zero interest in changing that.

Spouse Slaves

I'm looking back at how I got myself into this predicament. I had it all, a great life, wonderful husband, beautiful house, big bank account, and a country club membership. Our son had graduated college and went off to a great career in finance. He had a large trust fund, and after only a few years, already had become a multimillionaire in his own right. My husband and I were official empty nesters, and we had begun traveling. We also renewed our love life. Now that we were alone in the house, we would make love anywhere and everywhere as the mood struck us. We rediscovered the love and passion that defined our relationship in the early years. Yes, thinking back, I had been living a very enviable life.

"Next up for auction is Lot F-63. As you can see, she is 32-years old, blonde hair, blue eyes. She is in great shape, and perfectly healthy......."

The announcement brought me out of my revere and back to the present. There were three more women before it was my turn. As you may have guessed, I was at the slave auction about to be sold off. My husband (I still thought of him as such, even though our marriage had been voided when we were convicted. Slaves cannot be married.) was somewhere else in the building. The male slaves would be sold later in the day. All I was currently wearing was my slave collar, shackles and chains, and 6-inch heels. Women wore heels for the auction. It increased the sale price by making their legs and ass look better. I mean, let's face it, most women would be sold to be used as sex slaves. If not full-on sex slaves, then housekeepers, nannies, maids, etc., with a side of sexual service thrown in. Men were typically bought for manual labor, although some were purchased by gay men as sex slaves as well. It really didn't matter if the male slave was willing or not. A slave had no say in what they were forced to do.

Yes, slavery was legal in the good old U S of A again. How did this happen? It was legalized about five years ago. Crime was out of control, and there simply was not enough space in the prisons. After a few too many bad experiences with violent offenders being released early to reduce overcrowding, a Constitutional Convention was gathered and repealed the 14^th Amendment. Congress then met and passed new laws allowing convicted criminals to be enslaved. Minor crimes could have sentences of up to 10-years of slavery. Serious felonies, including theft of over $100,000 could result in slavery for life.

Of course, there were different levels of slavery. Defined term slaves could not be permanently marked. They also could not be bred. Slaves for life could be permanently marked and bred. Really, the only things that you could not do to a lifer was permanent injury or kill them. There was even a provision for free citizens to indentured service under a negotiated contract. This turned into a popular form of getting money for college. An attractive woman could negotiate a deal with an older man to be a servant for five years, then end up with a full ride for college.

As the woman was sold and the next woman was led up to the stage, I thought back to how I ended up here. We had been fairly wealthy. Everything was great, then the economy tanked. It had started several years ago with COVID. We weathered that. Then there was another virus, and another. Our finances were taking hit after hit. We were still OK, but we could see problems ahead. We knew it was wrong, but my husband convinced me that we wouldn't be caught. He began embezzling from his company. I was helping him by moving the money around to keep it from being found. It was going smoothly for several months. We had just passed $500,000 when the shit hit the fan. There was a surprise audit. We weren't really worried, because my husband had pretty well insulated himself from suspicion. Apparently not well enough, though. We ended up getting caught and convicted.

The woman in front of me moved up to the stand. I was next.

I had tried reaching out to my son to see if he could help us. He was disgusted with what we had done. We had completely embarrassed him when his friends and coworkers heard about it. He even came under suspicion from his boss. Apples, trees, all that shit. To say he was pissed at us was an understatement. He distanced himself from us as far as possible. He even went so far as to take out a full-page ad in the local paper disowning us as his parents. Obviously, there would be no help coming from that direction.

"Lot F-67. This is a 45-year-old redhead. As you can see, she is in great shape and very beautiful. Her tits have been measured at 38-Ds. She is also an anal virgin. She has admitted to never having had any interest in lesbian sex. She has been sentenced to lifetime slavery, so permanent marking and breeding are allowed, although with her age, breeding could be problematic and is not advised." He went on describing me and having me turn and pose in humiliating fashions. He then began the auction.

I simply cannot describe the humiliation I felt as I stood naked on that stage in front of a couple hundred people as they were bidding on me. My horror suddenly hit me at the realization that one of then would now actually OWN ME. I would never be able to be responsible for myself again. I would most likely never see my husband again. All decisions would be made for me. I would have to follow all orders, no matter how painful and humiliating. I could even be purchased by a woman and turned into a lesbian sex slave.

"And SOLD to bidder number 1002. You make claim your purchase after paying the cashier."

With that, I was led to the back of the building and placed in a barred cell awaiting collection by my new owner. The shackles were removed, and I sat on the floor. Being cells for temporary holding, there was no bed, or even a chair. My mind began wondering. I had no idea how long it would be before I was collected. If my new owner was only purchasing me, it could be a matter of minutes. If they were purchasing more slaves, it could be after the final slave was sold late in the afternoon. I also thought about the probability of never seeing my husband again. Being sold separately, it was very unlikely that we would ever see each other again. Lord only knows what his fate will be. If he ended up doing hard labor in a field, his life expectancy would be much shorter. I didn't even want to contemplate him being purchased by a sadistic homosexual. Charles was very much anti-gay. I couldn't bear the thought of him being forced to perform gay sex acts.

I was nervous, because I had no idea who had purchased me. Was it a sadist that would fill my life with agony? Was it a corporate CEO who would take me to the office and allow all the employees to gang bang me during their breaks? Was it a lesbian or lesbian couple that would force me to (shudder) service them all the time? Would I ever see a real cock again? Would it be a lesbian sadist that would torture me as I was forced to lick her pussy? My God. They could literally do anything they wanted except permanently injure or kill me.

It turned out to be several hours. That's not a good thing. My mind was running rampant with all the horrible things that I may have to endure. My mind was playing out my fate in being placed in an underground whorehouse where I would spend my days and nights servicing dirty old men multiple times a day, seven days a week. I was suddenly pulled out of my thoughts by a banging on the cell door.

"F-67. Move to the door, turn around, and put your hands behind your back." The guard ordered.

Resigning myself to my fate, I did ad ordered. He cuffed my hands behind my back, ordered me to turn and face him, then opened the door and clipped a leash to my collar. Stepping through the door, I was shocked to see my husband also being led by the guard. As I opened my mouth to greet my husband, who I had not seen for over a week, I was ordered to keep silent. No talking. As we were led down the hall, we kept glancing over at each other, attempting to communicate silently with each other. We finally entered the reception area, where we were to be turned over to our new owner. Apparently, we were both purchased by the same person. It was just too much of a coincidence that we were both purchased by the same person.

I had to wonder if this person somehow knew that we had been married. It turned out, that was indeed the case. There, standing in the middle of the room to collect us was our son, Mark. Joy swept through me. Our son had come to our rescue. Sure, we were slaves, but I had to believe that Mark had purchased us in order to bring our family back together. I just knew that things would go back to normal. Sure, we would still be officially slaves, but the reality would be a normal family. We could still act and appear as free people. Relief swept through me at the thought. That was when I saw the look on my son's face.

I should probably describe Mark. He's 6'2" tall, weighs approximately 210-pounds, and is in really good shape. He has brown hair, brown eyes, and is very handsome. He works out daily, so he keeps himself in really good shape. Yes, yes, yes, I know that you are all wondering what his 'manhood' is like. Come on, people. I'm his mother, not his girlfriend. I haven't seen him naked since he was 5 years old. I have no idea what it looks like or how big it is. He's 26-years old now, so I'm sure it's probably larger than it was when he was five.

"Please install this on M-162. I have absolutely no desire to touch his little dick." Mark said as he handed a strange contraption to one of the female guards.

I looked on as the guard knelt in front of my husband with a cylindrical cage like device. It was rather small. There was also a small ring with it. She placed the cage around my husband's penis, then connected the ring around the base of his testicles. Once both pieces were in place, she took a small lock and locked them together. Once everything was installed, she stood back up and handed Mark the keys to the lock.

He was not done yet. He produced a small metal object from his pocket and a tube of KY jelly. The metal object was tapered with a blunt point on one end. It gradually increased in diameter until it was about 1-inch in diameter. It then abruptly reduced in diameter again. The bottom of it was a disk. If you stood it up and looked at it in profile, it actually looked like a metal Christmas tree. Mark took the lube and liberally applied it to the metal object. He had my husband bend over and spread his ass cheeks. That was when I realized it was an anal plug. I had never been even slightly interested in anal play, so I had never seen an anal plug before.

"I have absolutely no interest in gay sex, but I do have some friends who aren't as discerning as I am. To them, a hole is a hole. They only consider it gay if they are receiving. You can expect that they will use your mouth and ass quite a bit. You can thank me later for being nice and getting you prepared." Apparently, this was not exactly the rescue I had envisioned when I first saw him in the lobby.

"As for you." He continued, looking at me. "I will be fucking your ass, but I'm not going to stretch you out first. I'm going to take your anal virginity, but I want my cock to be the first thing you ever take in there. I want it to be a true virginity when I first put my cock in there."

"But Mark. I'm your mother. You can't." I protested.

"No, slave, you are not my mother. You stopped being my mother the second you were convicted and became a slave. Slaves are not humans; therefore, slaves have no families."

With that, Mark lubed up the plug and worked it into my husband's ass. Charles, my husband, groaned and cried while Mark was pushing and twisting the plug in. Finally, the largest part slipped in, and his ass clenched down on the narrow part, sealing it in place. Charles was walking oddly as Mark led us out of the auction house.

"Mark! We're naked. We can't go outside like this. We need some clothes!" I complained as we were about to go out the door.

I felt a sudden stinging across my breasts. Mark had just used the leash he held in his hand to strike my sensitive breasts.

"First off, you will refer to me as Master. You no longer have the right to use my name. Second off, I can and will take you wherever I want, dressed or undressed, however I please. In case you still don't understand current events, YOU ARE A GODDAMNED SLAVE AND I AM YOUR OWNER! YOU DO WHAT THE FUCK I TELL YOU TO DO, WHEN I TELL YOU TO DO IT!"

With that, he jerked the leashes connected to our collars and pulled us out the door. Yes, it was completely legal to have naked slaves out in public. Most owners still had their slaves dressed -- at least somewhat covered -- while they were in public. Still, there was the occasional naked slave being led down the streets. Usually, that was just used as a punishment or by a cruel owner for the intent of humiliating their slaves. Dejected and not wanting another cruel strike to my sore breasts, I lowered my head and followed my son out the door.

The parking lot was busy, as the buyers were leading their new slaves to their vehicles. As expected, the majority of the owners had brought along some sort of covering for their new slaves. There were only a few slaves that were walking naked. At least it would be over with quickly. Once we were in Mark's car, it would be a bit more private.

Of course, he had to park on the far end of the parking lot. That just added to the time that we were displayed in public. It was worse for Charles. At least I still had on my heels. Charles was barefoot, and the small pebbles on the asphalt were hurting his feet as he stumbled along beside me. We finally made it to the car. I had a bad feeling when I noticed that he had brought his 1969 GTO convertible. I was expecting that he would have brought his SUV to transport us to his home. Even one of his other vehicles would have been better than what I feared. The simple choice of bringing the convertible seemed ominous. My fears were confirmed a moment later.

"You know, it's such a nice day out, I think we should drive home with the top down. Besides, your tits look like they could use a little sun." Mark announced as he opened the passenger side door.

Since our arms were still shackled behind our backs, Mark assisted us into the car. I was first, since he wanted me in the back seat. First, he laid down a towel for me to sit on. Wouldn't want to soil the seat on his immaculate classic muscle car, don't ya know. After placing me in the center of the seat, just perfect for looking at me in the mirror -- as well as ensuring the best possible view from any vehicle and pedestrians we happened to pass, he secured a three-foot-long bar to my ankles. That ensured that I could not close my legs and preserve even the slightest bit of my modesty. He finally buckled me in with the seatbelt.

Mark returned the passenger seat to its normal position, he had to tip it forward to allow me to step into the back, he set a wooden board on the passenger seat. I thought that was odd. Mark assisted Charles into the seat. I got an inkling of what the board on the seat was for as Charles grunted in shock when his ass plopped down on the seat. It was then that I remembered the large flat base of his anal plug. Apparently, the flat base of the plug was pressed to the board on the seat. After Mark got in the driver's seat and started the engine, I saw a strange look on my husband's face as the powerful engine rumbled and the seats vibrated to the deep, throaty idle. It occurred to me that those vibrations were transferring through the board and onto the plug in his ass. Charles began to try and curl forward in pain as his cock cage dug into his penis, preventing his growing erection from expanding. I began having serious doubts that our son purchasing us would be a good thing.

The ride to our new home was half an hour of pure hell. At every stoplight, pedestrians would point and laugh. Several took pictures and video with their phones. The people in the cars beside up would gawk and point as well. Several times, cars that were about to pass would slow down and pace alongside us as they looked and videoed us. There would be little doubt that those photos and videos would be all over the internet within a few short hours. It suddenly occurred to me that my sister might see those pictures. Worse yet, Charles's perverted brother would see them. Shit, shit, shit, shit!

An eternity of humiliation later, we finally pulled into Mark's driveway. As I mentioned before, Mark has done extremely well for himself. He has a large house that sits on about five acres of land. It is fairly well secluded from his neighbors. He isn't married, but he is engaged to a lovely young woman. She lives here as well. Also living in a separate small cottage near the main house, is their full-time housekeeper. As Mark parked the car in front of the house, I saw a contractor's pickup sitting beside the house. I was curious as to what Mark was having done to the house.

Charles was still whimpering in pain from his cock-cage as Mark assisted us out of the car. Thankfully, he removed the spreader bar from my legs before assisting me out. Wordlessly, he began leading us to the front door. Thankfully for Charles, there were no rocks or pebbles on the brick walkway from the driveway to the entrance to the house.

"I'm back. I managed to get them both, too." Mark called out as we entered the house.

There was the 'clack, clack' of high heels on hardwood floors as Jenny hurried through the house towards the entryway. A moment later, she appeared from around the corner of the room. She was, as usual from every time I had seen her, immaculately put together. Her yellow sundress fit her perfectly and fell to her knees. The neckline was fairly conservative, but tight across her 36D breasts. Her golden blonde hair was perfectly coifed and fell to just below her shoulders. She had on her usual minimal makeup to highlight her beautiful features and accent her light blue eyes. On her feet were tasteful 3-inch heels, making her 5'6" frame appear taller and really showing off her toned calves and tight ass. She was a very sweet young woman. I was shamed by being naked in front of this wonderful woman who was to be my daughter-in-law shortly.