The Betelgeuse Rules

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Ignorance of the law is no excuse.
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(These two short stories are set in the time following the 34th Amendment legalizing slavery. The main title is a subsection of that amendment which allows for self-enslavement, commonly known as the "Betelgeuse" rule throughout the industry, but generally considered to be a myth within the general population. Any similarity between characters and anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters are 18+ )

VYING FOR ATTENTION

"What are we doing here? I'm scared."

"You were graded weeks ago; you've got nothing to worry about. Just get your I.D. out, I'll pay for us," said Mike. "You said you wanted to do something different today. How much more different can it get than being on the viewing side of a grading instead of strapped to a frame being graded? Besides I got word Tank is being graded today along with a couple of your classmates. Poor guy was passed over by the football scouts and now has to get loans for college. You have to see this guy, okay?

"Why do they call him 'Tank'?"

"What do you picture when you think of a tank?"

"I picture a battlefield with those funny looking machines with the big cannons running around."

"Exactly, come on, let's go in."

"Okay, I guess it might be fun to tease a couple of my classmates, especially if they were among the ones who came to see me exposed on the grading table in all my naked glory." All the while pondering to herself, "What's so special about this Tank guy, anyways."

"Okay, listen up, everyone. Have your I.D.s and your $10 ready. You must be 18 or older in order to enter this slave evaluation. Ladies, today is your lucky day as Wednesday's are free for you. Now here are the rules, you may touch, fondle or squeeze gently. You can talk to the 'slaves' but they are all devoxed so they can't answer, only nod. There is to be no penetration of pussy or anus. If you do, you will be violently ejected and banned from any future viewings. If your contact with a stud causes him to ejaculate, you will be stripped, handcuffed, be force to lick it all up, and be chained at his feet with your mouth open to show his load until the viewing hour is over. Potential buyers want to be sure a stud can perform and you will be the evidence of why he is drooping when he is supposed to be erect. That goes for guys as well as gals. If there are no questions, form a line at the door, you'll have 30 minutes before we have to make room for the registered buyers. Enjoy your visit. The exit is through the gift shop."

The line of gawkers moved slowly into the viewing room, occasionally jerking to a stop when someone entered for the first time. It can be quite a daunting sight, 20 exam tables, 5 in a row, two rows deep on each side of the center aisle. Today, only 12 of the tables were angled at 45 degrees and occupied with tied down bodies to be examine, 2 males and 10 females. The pheromones in the air were intoxicating causing a variety of sensations amongst the viewers.

The women on display varied in age from 18 to 52. Four of the younger girls were there to collateralize loans for college. Two of the 20-somethings had tried to avoid a public grading, like the Big D, and had gotten in too deep with the same loan sharking operation. Connie, a 28-year-old, had her loan called in when her small, independent bank was gobbled up by one of the giants. (Bankers are the worst.) Two women in their 30's were there to renew their indentures to a BDSM club as vanilla sex didn't cut it for them anymore. The 52-year-old Jenny was fortunately still a 'hottie'. Her daughter had been critically injured in a car crash and the family had run out of funds trying to nurse her back to health. It was a highly, emotionally charged moment when her husband checked her in and said good-bye. She struggled on the table to try to be sexy and alluring despite slowly dying inside.

The two males were as different as can be. The thirty-five-year-old had signed a pre-nup with his heiress wife, which committed him to enslavement if he ever cheated on her. The infamous, '7-year itch' or 'mid-life crises had put him in a crisis of a completely different kind, and she was busy selecting shackles, gags, strap-ons, floggers and paddles in the gift shop.

Tank, the 18-year-old, ex-high school football player, had worked out a plan of his own. At a buff, 6'5 and 185 lbs., the talent scouts figured he was just a little too light of frame for college football and had passed him over. He had contacted the Tribade Training Ranch's owners, Moira and Sylvia about a possible indenture as a stud and racer. Once they saw his package, they knew he would be a perfect racing partner with Arnold and an incredible stud. Today after his grading and branding, they'd be taking him home and really building him up.

Katie held Mike's hand as they walked around through display of human flesh. Katie saw the ache in Jenny's expression and took a tissue from her purse and wiped a tear away then squeezed her hand and smiled. Jenny weekly smiled back. Mike being the immature pig that he is, merely squeezed her tits and turned his attention to the younger girls.

Mike walked away to sample more flesh while Katie was drawn to a small group of women around a table in the back row. OMG! Katie almost swooned at the sight of Tank's erection and magnificent body. Moira and Sylvia were in the crowd and gave Tank a big 'thumbs-up' as they stepped back to watch the crowd's reaction. Katie was mesmerized and made her way to the side of the table to stare at and touch what was before her. She was there for a good 10 minutes as the rest of the crowd dwindled away. Mike was otherwise occupied and since the wranglers were starting to move people along, she took her chance. While no one was looking, she stepped into the gap in the frame between his legs and after one more quick glance around, took as much of him into her mouth as she could without choking. She moaned slightly and looked longingly into his eyes as he smiled back. Two seconds was all she dared to stay on him and quickly backed out of the frame to go find Mike, who was already in the gift shop.

Mike was deeply engrossed in a conversation with a cute blonde behind the counter, maybe too deeply. After 10 minutes of being ignored, Katie looked around the shop and spied a collar on the counter to her right. She picked it up and saw that it was very similar to the shocking collar she had worn when she was graded. She slipped it around her neck and it closed it a light, magnetic click. She took it off with a slight tug and looked at it again. She put it back on and turned to Mike, who had his back to her and said softly, "Look Mike, I'm a slave." A sneeze from a guy behind her covered up the beep from her collar. "Bless you," someone said and everyone went back to what they were doing, even Mike, which annoyed Katie even more. In a normal tone, Katie repeated, "Look Mike, I'm a slave." She heard the second beep and looked around to see where the noise came from as she fingered the ring in the front of the collar. Finally, in desperation, she grabbed Mike's arm and spun him around and almost shouted, "Look, I'm a slave!"

Three rapid beeps and a heavy locking click later, she was trapped by her own hand. The P.A. system blared, "Slave acquired! Slave acquired! Slave acquired!", and two wranglers rushed into the gift shop. "What's happening?" asked Katie in shock at all of the sudden activity around her.

"Congratulations, you have successfully enslaved yourself for the next 4 years under the 34th Amendment, Article 5, section c. "Pursuant to this subsection, anyone, who in any manner exhibits any interest in life as a slave and declares openly someone as 'Master or Mistress' three times, or confesses themselves to be a slave or want to be a slave, the afore-mentioned three times, is hereby enslaved to their owner for a period of 4 years."

"You can't be serious, this 'Betelgeuse' thing is just a joke, right?"

"No joke, I just read you the statute, now STRIP!"

Katie panicked and tried to run but was quickly grabbed and cuffed. One of the wranglers wasted no time in pulling out a knife and started cutting her clothes to shreds while the other one pulled off her shoes and socks and slid her shorts down her legs. In less than a minute, Katie was standing nude to the amusement of those around her.

"What happens now," asked Mike with a smile.

Rebecca, the profit-mad accountant, rushed in to the gift shop just in time to hear the question. She had heard the alarm and had coming running with dollar signs in her eyes and her tablet in her hand. "Since she put on our collar, she is our property. Did she come with you?" Rebecca asked looking at Mike.

"Yes, we are together."

"Well, not anymore. Guys, get her ready for the 2 p.m. auction. You've 15 minutes to get her into 'slave heat', eagerly motivated, and into the chute. Now where was I....oh yeah, since you brought her here, you are entitled to a 15% 'finder's fee'. You can claim your money at the check-out desk in about an hour."

Mike waved as they dragged Katie away crying. He promised to tell her parents why she wouldn't be home for a while, then turned to Cindy behind the counter, "So, what time do you get off work today?" Typical pig.

Even though Katie was previously graded Prime, her performance on Broadway was dismal and even the whip cracking on her ass failed to motivate her much. She went for only $60,000 when on a good day, even a little smile would have added $100,000 more. She was dragged from the stage and taken directly to get her 'Sandy Foot Girl' Big D Prime badge. In a way, she was perversely happy that she hadn't made more money for Mike or that bitch, Rebecca, but then she worried that at that low a price, she might be going to a brothel.

Entering the blacksmith shop, she was surprised to see Tank anchored in the frame about to get a Prime brand as well. He blushed as red as the stripes in 'Old Glory' when he saw her smile at him. Moira walked out of the shadows and went over to talk to Merle. Merle smiled and nodded. Moira then went to Katie and kissed her on the forehead and said, "You're mine, baby girl. I saw what you did in the viewing room and knew I had to get you for Tank. Would you like to help Tank get through his branding?"

"Yes, Mistress," she said with her head bowed low.

Moira raised her chin with her riding crop and said, "Our ponies are proud ponies, keep your head up high when you are with me or my partner, Sylvia. Now crawl under the bench and get him off, he's going to need all the endorphins you can generate for him.

Katie smiled broadly as she once again took him in her mouth and went to work. The exact moment he came, Merle laid a perfect brand on his left cheek causing him to jerk violently against the bench and spray all over Katie's face and chest. The Tribade brand wasn't as pleasant.

Katie smiled as she licked up all of Tank's glorious cum and thought about how a horrendous mistake might actually turn into a blessing in disguise. She happily humped the branding iron handle before Merle gave her, her trophy. She peed, screamed and blacked out during the Tribade brand and barely woke when the vet finished dressing her wounds and updating her chip. Moira praised her for being so good and told her that tomorrow she could call her family and let them know she was okay. As long as she behaved and took to her training, her family was welcome to visit anytime they wanted. but if they became a distraction, they'd have to go.

Sylvia pulled the truck and trailer around to the loading dock and everyone helped Tank and Katie lie face-down on the bed in the back. A quick shot of morphine for both and sleep came instantly.

Sylvia hugged and kissed Moira before they jumped in the truck and headed home with their treasures.

The End

JUST PLAYING

"What's in the bag, Sally?"

"Is anyone home besides you?" Sally asked nervously looking around.

"No, just me. Dad is out of town and Mom went to a matinee with a couple of her girlfriends. She said she'd be home around 4 and then we could go for pizza. Why the drama?"

"My sister just finished her voluntary, 2-year indenture as a nanny to Mr. Flynn, the widower. She looked after his two, young daughters during the day while he was working and generally did everything their mom used to do, and I do mean, 'EVERYTHING'. He proposed the day she was freed and she said, 'yes'. She won't need these anymore," and dumped a beautiful, stainless, slave collar and matching wrist cuffs on the kitchen counter.

"Whoa, that is the classiest set I have ever seen. They look very expensive. I guess if you own multiple car dealerships, you can afford nice stuff for your slaves," Tara replied. "Look at the ornate, scroll work all over this stuff."

"I know, right? Do you want to try them on?"

"I don't think so, those things are dangerous."

"Nah, I was playing with them before I walked over here and the magnetic clasp is easily separated. Watch, I'll do it." Sally slipped the cuffs on her wrists and there was a mild click as the halves snapped together. A quick tug and off they came. "See, nothing to worry about."

"Put everything on I want to take your picture then I'll try them. Those will make you look gorgeous."

Sally smiled at Tara and said, "Okay, but if you are taking a picture, I'm not getting naked like I did in my bedroom." She quickly put on the collar and cuffs and smiled for the camera in Tara's phone

"How much have you been playing with this stuff; do you want to be a slave?" asked Tara.

"Do I want to be a slave? (beep) I don't think so but my sister didn't mind it and look where she ended up. Did you hear a sound?

"I think it was the wind chimes by the outside kitchen door."

"If I want to be a slave (beep), I'd want to be able to choose my Master. Hmmm, it wasn't windy when I came over here. Are you sure that's what it was?"

"It could have been the timer on the oven, I suppose. Did you bring the clip that lock the cuffs together, I want you cuffed like a real slave girl. BACK HANDS!"

Sally giggled and followed her 'slave poses' training from high school as Tara clip the cuffs together. "Be sure and photograph my good side. Look, I'm a slave girl." Beep! Beep! Beep! Clunk! and the pocking pins in the collar and cuffs sprung home. "What was that?"

"I think it came from your collar. We'd better get them off." Tara pulled on the cuffs but they wouldn't budge. She was able to unlink them but that was all. The collar was the same.

"What happened? I'm scared. Let's go get my mom." The two of them ran across the back yard into Sally's back yard and slipped into the house. "Mom, help!"

Sally's mom, Dee, (short for Delores), came up from the laundry room carrying a basket of clothes. "What's all the commotion? Here, help me put the clothes away." It was when she looked up that she saw the collar and cuffs. "OMG, what have you done?"

"I don't know, I was just showing Tara how they worked but now they won't come off?"

"Did they beep by any chance?"

"Yes, but we thought it was the wind chimes. What is it, mom?"

"I think you have somehow invoked the 'Betelgeuse' rule by accident and now have enslaved yourself."

"I can't be enslaved; I start my freshman year at the community college September 10th. What can we do?"

"Let me call the Texas Board of Agriculture and Enslavement and see what can be done." 20 minutes later, Sally's mom put down the phone. "We have to go to the Ag board right away. A runaway slave BOLO has already been issued; we've got to hurry. Get in the car."

Just as they were backing out of the driveway, Sonja, Sally's sister pulled up in front of the house.

"Leave your car there and jump in here with us, we're in a hurry. I'll tell you all about it on the way," said Dee.

"Does this have anything to do with a call I got from the Ag Board asking if I would like to register my new slave? When I told him I didn't have a new slave, he just hung up on me." She glanced over at Tara and Sally and gasped, "Why are you wearing my old, slave collar and cuffs? Tell me you didn't self-enslave."

"We are afraid she may have," replied Dee, "It's very complicated." Hearing all of this caused Sally to finally breakdown in tears, only to be comforted by Tara and Sonja.

Arriving at the Ag Board itself was a relief. They had managed to avoid being stopped by any slave catchers, which would really have made a mess of things. Dee approached the window in the lobby and asked, "Where is the enslavement department, please?"

"Second floor, end of the hall," the clerk said without ever looking up.

Opening the door to the office, they were greeted by the manager, Mr. Hansen, who asked, "Who did I talk to on the phone a few minutes ago?"

"I called you," said Dee.

"Does the collar belong to you?"

"No, sir, it is my old collar," replied Sonja. My sister, Sally is the one who put it on."

"Then you must be Sonja Benkstrom, is that right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Here's the issue. Everyone listen carefully. The cost to remove an unauthorized collar and cuffs is $1000. The punishment for unauthorized use of enslavement devices is branding as a criminal and 6-months enslavement minimum. Then the question becomes, as with a firearm or other dangerous items, who allowed access to the collar and cuffs? Do I have to send Sonja to criminal court?" Mr. Hansen paused to let the gravity of the situation sink in. "Sally, come over here and please stop crying, I'm not going to send Sonja to court. While you all were driving over here, I talked to Cesare over at the U.S.Dept. of Involuntary Servitude (USDIS) and he has a proposal that will benefit everyone and educate people that the 'Betelgeuse' rule is not a myth. It could save a lot of people and prevent some young life from being ruined. Are you interested?

"I'll do anything to help Sonja, sir."

"Here's the proposal, first we issue a SIN and then register you as Sonja's slave. Second, we film a series of short public service announcements, (PSA's), warning others of the dangers of enslavement devices, earning you and Sonja $1000 each, and finally, since you are of legal age, you must report to any authorized slave center for formal grading and updating of information in the National Slave Registry. Upon completion of these steps, you will be Sonja's slave. Upon completion of your service to us, you will be granted immediate manumission, unless of course, Sonja wants to keep you or sell you," he said with a smirk looking into Sally's eyes.

She simply nodded and smiled back.

"Good girl, you are very brave but first, let's see what went wrong." With that he plugged a cord into Sally's collar and said, "The sensors in the collar record every enslavement confession, so let's listen." He hit 'replay enslavement statements.' The computer speakers played it back: "Do I want to be a slave? (beep)' If I want to be a slave (beep), Look, I'm a slave girl." Beep! Beep! Beep! Clunk!" "Now that's interesting. The sensor couldn't tell the difference between a question and a declaration. That's a glitch that needs to be rectified immediately."

Mr. Hansen called Cesare back and told him about the malfunction of the sensors' analysis. Cesare told him it was clearly a case of involuntary servitude and he should remove the collar and cuffs unless Sally was still willing to go through with the program.

Mr. Hansen thanked Cesare and turned to the Benkstrom family, "Well, what do you think? You should decide this as a family matter but let me tell you the rules Sally would have to abide by, if you all agree to let her help us: 1. Slave naked except at Sonja's choosing, 2. Collar must be visible at all times, even if clothes allowed, 3. Daily 'slave yoga', 4. Complete subservience and instant obedience to all free persons, and 5. Failure to film all five announcements requires all moneys paid to date must be returned plus a 20% fine. I'm going to notify IT of the sensor problem, be back in 10 minutes."

12