The Cost of My Dreams Ch. 04

One of the men was looking thru his deck of trading cards and held one up, looking at me. "Is the biographical information accurate? Was this one really hot for the collar?"

"Read carefully, it doesn't actually say she was hot for the collar. It only says she tried horny juice at uni, willingly indentured herself, and eagerly sought out the attentions of the commonplace slaves, her trainers, and her slave sisters."

"I'd like to try her out."

"This is only a two-hour flight. You've got an open invitation to schedule a session with any of these slaves at Cape Canaveral. That applies to all of you, of course. Have your people contact my people and these slaves will be happy to serve you."

"Six Seven One Nine," Master Marshall said "climb up on this table and assume fours facing me."

I did as ordered, going on my hands and knees facing Master Marshall and then dropped to my knees and elbows.

"Over," he ordered, and I flipped over onto my back, put the soles of my feet on the table and my hands behind my back and lifted my body, arching my back. I held the position for half a minute before he ordered "Missionary." I dropped back to the table, kept my legs spread but extended them, and placed my hands crossed above my head, as if for binding.

"As you can see," he said "these are real slaves, as eager to serve your pleasure as any pleasure slave. But they are also trained astronauts, and will continue working on the program until the final selection is made."

One of the men said "It seems a damn shame to free the losers after only six months service. You should have specified two years for all of them."

"They wouldn't have agreed to two years for the losers; it wouldn't be a fair offer. Besides, their talents are rare. We need their brains far more that we need their embonded bodies and it may be that some of them will reup for the Ares four mission in a few years."

"You two," Master Marshall ordered Erin and Denise "serve these guests of mine coffee and donuts."

Erin and Denise went around the table. They would fetch a cup, kneel near the person they were serving, pour coffee in the cup from a carafe and offer it up to the person they served. Then they would fetch a tray of donuts and offer it up to the person they served, return the tray of donuts to a side table and move on to the next guest. One of the guests stood up, reached over, and fondled me. I smiled at him and thrust my hips up from the table. Master Marshall had Master Peterson secure me spread eagled, got out a vibrator and demonstrated my sexual response, making me come several times.

The meeting continued, discussing details of the various mission related marketing, until it was time for us to return to our slave transport seats and bind ourselves for landing.

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The third day we were back at the company, Susan and Cheryl joined us after lunch, just before Master Peterson started to show the free members of the crews how to put us thru our paces and demonstrated the proper use of his whip on a dummy and quite a dummy it was. It came with resettable buttocks that would actually show reddening and welts when stuck hard enough until reset.

"Control is the key," he said. "It will sting with even mild force if you hit your slave properly. Control your whip, control yourself and control your slaves. You're must correct misconduct or bad attitude promptly, but never let your anger direct your blows. Most trained slaves obey, not because they fear punishment, but because they accept their status as long as you enforce their submission. They are counting on you to keep them in their place. With these slaves, of course, it's more complicated because they must also serve you with their minds, but it's exactly because you need their minds that you make it clear to them that they are your property and must use their minds for your pleasure and convenience, not just their own.

Commander Black, take your whip and show me how to administer a quick, mild correction on the dummy. Remember proper form and control."

One at a time, they demonstrated their use of the whip, and then put us thru our paces with firm verbal commands and increasingly confident gestures. After our time at the Sharks, none of us should have required correction during the drills, but during the second hour I got distracted and earned a mild, well-placed stroke from Mistress Gonzales, which hurt a lot and for which I thanked her.

When Master Gardner was in charge, Cheryl had a similar screwup and Master Gardner was too hesitant in his blow. Master Peterson patiently drilled him in using his whip on the dummy, then had Master Gardner order Cheryl into position for a more formal punishment and Master Gardner stuck his blow with perfect form and control. Cheryl yelped but thanked Master Gardner and held position until released.

Now, Mistress Gonzales from the primary crew, Master Washington from the backup crew, and Mistress Whitacre from the second backup crew, while they were allowed to remain clothed, had to experience both sides of the training. While they would never be indentured as long as the fourth crew member (the slave crew member) remained healthy, their indentures would be activated if the fourth crew member died or became incapacitated. Since this was unlikely, their slave training had consisted of a five-day course of the sort normally sought by those hoping to improve their slave rating. A course for tourists, Master Peterson called it. One of those three was in for a very rude awaking if something happened to the fourth crew member. With their poorer training, they received multiple corrections via the shock collars they wore for this session.

Three hours we drilled, and then they granted Erin, Denise, Susan, Cheryl, and I sexual release, assigning us to pleasure the male crew members and Mistress Gonzales and Mistress Whitacre. Master Washington satisfied himself with one of the male slaves competing for the first backup crew. Mistress Henderson and Mistress Bowman, both from the first backup crew, declined to participate.

After that, we were sent for slave hygiene and showers, and then taken to our kennel area for an unstructured study period.

I was skimming an electronic edition of Beyond the Thirty-Fourth Amendment: The Origins and Doctrine of Modern American Slavery, attaching rude electronic notes to various passages and having unkind thoughts about the authors for a half hour or so when Cheryl kissed the back of my neck.

"Cheryl," I said "I'd love to but we're in unstructured study, not free play. We're not allowed to do that now and I'm sure Master Michael is every bit as attentive as Mistress Esmeralda."

"Are you sure?"

"Master Michael was real clear on the matter. I'm as frustrated as you are but our masters had decreed that we have to wait until free play," I said.

"What do you think they're going to do with me and Susan? The tabloids were right; we're also rans."

Whatever her other flaws, Cheryl could see the facts in front of her. I tapped my head with the pointing finger on my right hand. "You've got value up here way beyond your value as slave meat. They're not going to waste that. Worst case, they'll start having you entertain important investors and corporate officers and brief them about what's going on. You are in the thick of it. You're smart, you're pretty, and you have the best slave skills of all of us."

She gave me a wan smile and said "What did you do as an astronaut mommy? Well son, I fucked investors and blew corporate officers."

"Daughter," I said "I took it up the ass from ugly old men and spanked some important people who I am afraid to name."

Cheryl shook her head and said "Not the same; you're still in the running and I think you'll make it all the way to Mars."

"I think Erin is the one they wanted from the beginning. She's smarter than I am. Denise plays the political game better. I'm a long way from any sort of a finish line."

"At least you're still in the race."

"I'm sorry, Cheryl. I didn't create this contest and I'm not the one picking the winners. I'll be happy to lick you silly when we're in free play."

And so I did. At least, I tried to give as good as I got, but Cheryl really did have the best slave skills of all of us. Still, she seemed satisfied.

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Angela joined us during free play on the thirteenth day after we first arrived.

"I've missed you all so much," she said. "I hope you haven't gotten too far ahead of me but I will work to be worthy of your company."

"We're starting simulation next week. It's been mainly the crew learning to wrangle us and routine updates. You'll catch up in no time," said Denise, uneasily.

"Oh, I hope so," said Angela. "I don't want to hold anyone back."

"What did they do to you those final ten days"

"A lot of horny juice and a lot of the practical. They even taught me the ski pole trick, doing five guys at once."

"Do guys actually like to do that?" Erin asked. "I thought even double penetration is more of a party trick. Guys get creeped out when they have to be that close together when having sex with a woman."

"Don't be jealous 'cause I've mastered it, Erin. People love to watch it."

"Have you been keeping up with the changes in the S7M2?" I asked, referring to the Scorpio 7 mod 2 maintenance vehicle.

"Oh yes. Do we have a simulator for the revised vehicle yet?"

"Erin and I have been working with Master Bradley on that. Master Bradley say it should be ready next week."

"Working *with* Master Bradley? Is that a proper attitude for a slave?"

WTF. "Ah, no, this girl supposes it is not. Seeing as we're slaves, it would be better to say we worked at his direction." Especially, I thought, since our licenses are suspended because we're slaves. Nobody actually has to know how much of the work was ours. This would be, I reflected, a violation of the NSPE Code of Ethics II.5, (deceptive acts) but not only was I not currently an engineer, I was wasn't even human. I was livestock and was free on any professional obligations. I could hardly be expected to go against the will of my masters. "We do his bidding like the good slaves we are."

She smiled and said "I'm looking forward to seeing if they fixed the guidance system issue."

"That's a physical issue not a simulation issue. They've replaced the original system with the one from the mod 1, which was is still a little clunky but works fine. That was in last week's update."

"Oh," she said. "I've been so distracted since you've left me. I must have missed that."

"Well, you're back with us now," said Denise. "We'll help you catch up. Leave no astronaut behind."

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It was 10:50 and I had been called for the personal service of Master Peterson at his quarters. Per instructions, I put on wrist and ankle bands and walked to his rooms on the third floor of the guest building. He gestured me to the foot of his bed where he had some things laid out for me: A leash, a ring gag, a slave belt so my hands could be secured by my sides, and a spreader bar.

Without exchanging a word, I attached the leash to my collar and to an eye bolt in the floor. He never gave me orders to restrain myself. Just another game he played, as though putting myself in restraints was my idea and was for my benefit. I put on the gag and I clipped my ankle bands onto the spreader bar. Finally, I did the belt, which he helped me with as it buckled behind my back. He clipped my wrist bands to the belt, had me lay back on the bed. None of this stuff locked, yet I was helpless to free myself nor was I able to complain much, not that I wanted to.

Master Peterson joined me on the bed and positioned me to his liking and started to kiss and caress me. With the horny juice flowing thru me, I heated rapidly and came for the first time right after he mounted me. Gagged as I was, I didn't have to thank him for the gift of his seed after he came in me. Afterwards, he held me for a while, and I enjoyed his embrace.

This man was a slave wrangler and there was no one he was stricter with than me when he directed the slave yoga sessions. My timing and form had to be perfect; my mantras loud, clear, and completely accurate. He tolerated nothing less than my best and somehow, I found that I liked him. I liked him a lot and even occasionally dreamt of him.

While we lay there, he removed my gag and talked with me. Today he brought up my reading habits.

"While I appreciated your comments on Beyond the Thirty-Fourth Amendment, you really need to stop with the garbage tear slave psychobabble. Thirty Days to a Better Slave? What were you thinking? OK, Five Years a Pleasure Slave has its points, but you're not a tourist and this isn't some fantasy. The Eight State Standards is about the only sensible choice you've made recently. If you're really interested in slavery as an institution, you should stick to the professional works. Kahn's Handbook would be a good start."

"Thank you, master, but Kahn's Handbook isn't in the free library."

"I'll send you a copy."

"Master is too kind to this lowly slave."

"I'll also test you on your reading."

"This slave expects nothing less from you, master."

"So, you have expectations for your master? Is that proper slave behavior?"

"Forgive me master, but this slave has come to expect strict and competent discipline from you. She is pleased that master cares enough to ensure she becomes the best slave that she can be."

"I guess I shouldn't beat you for that kind of expectation but I will test you on Kahn's handbook and send you links to some other publications that you will also be tested on. I'll send a note to Michael so you don't get overloaded on study."

"Thank you master. This slave endeavors to understand the institution of which she is now part, master."

"Any questions on the Eight State Standards?"

"No master. This slave was an engineer and is used to reading standards, master. Kahn's Handbook should be more of a challenge, master."

And so my reading came to include not just the Eight State Standards (more formally, Standards for Slave Marking, Restraint and Training for the US States of Arizona, California, Georgia, Louisiana, Nevada, New Mexico, North Carolina, Oklahoma, and Washington and the Mexican States of Chihuahua and Sonora - which, yes, is eleven states) but also the tenth edition of Handbook of Slavekeeping aka Khan's Handbook, though Khan was now only listed as a coauthor; relevant parts of The Code of Federal Regulations, specs of various slave hardware, study guilds for apprentice slave wranglers, a test preparation guild for Florida's Journeymen Wrangler exam and several forums where wranglers disused practical applications of their craft. It was like watching a train wreck; I was appalled but I couldn't stop reading because it was all about controlling me, about how I should be treated and Master Peterson tested me on all of it. He knew his craft and I often left his exams better informed but well punished if I hadn't put in the work he thought was required. I was never punished for a wrong answer, but he would not tolerate slacking in his student.

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I was working thru Alfred's Traditional Slave Ropework and Angela was assisting me, acting as my subject. Right now, her hands were tied behind her by a leather thong in a capture knot that I had gotten in place in less than ten seconds. Not a good tie for long term confinement, but I had spent another thirty seconds adding an additional tie and cinching, so it would hold her long term, just not as comfortably as I'd like. I was working on her ankles but after three tries it was still taking way too long to get her properly restrained and she wasn't even properly struggling. Modern slavekeepers mostly used dedicated slave restraints which are more secure, safer and more comfortable for the slave than traditional ropework, but some kept alive the tradition of rope and thong restraints and it was a skill Master Peterson had ordered me to master.

"I'm sorry, Angela. It's still taking me way too long to do this tie."

"That's OK, I like being tied by you. It makes me feel safe when you restrain me. I'm so glad Master Peterson is having you master traditional ropework."

"Why is he doing that?" asked Denise, who was making sure I took good care of her friend.

"Because when I started taking an interest in slavery as an institution, he disapproved of some of my reading choices and got me professional material. I've been going down the slavekeeping rabbit hole ever since."

"Maybe the masters could have you tie up slaves for them. You could be a slave mistress," said Angela.

"Do you imagine I could compete with Slave Mistress Ann or Slave Mistress Phillis?"

"In time you could. Master Peterson likes you. That's why he's so strict with you."

"Yea, and it's as fucked up a dynamic as One Nine Seven Five and her husband," I said, referring to the Japanese women we'd be grouped with at the Sharks. "Anyway, it's hardly likely. If I'm selected for the mission, I'll be the only slave on board. If not, my indenture ends and I get to figure out if I'll ever be able to work with anyone at this company as an equal again."

"Your indenture doesn't have to end, you know," said Angela. "Lots of slaves sign up for another go round."

"Yea, that's not happening," I said. "Maybe a FINO with a future husband, but I don't want to be a slave any longer than I have to be. Maybe I should change sides and become a wrangler."

"Don't you like being a slave?" asked Angela.

Well, that was a weird fucking turn. "Ah, I'm OK with it actually. Surprisingly OK with it, but I don't want to be one forever."

"But you should be. You're a trained slave. Don't you love pleasing your master?"

Denise and I looked at each other. I asked, "Angela, are you planning to reindent?"

"Oh yes. I've found my calling. I've never felt so happy as when I'm pleasing my masters."

Oh, shit. What had they done to her those last weeks at the Sharks? She had been showing signs of slave mind since she'd rejoined the group, but this way, way worse.

I tied her crossed ankles together, completing the tie and cinching it in just under a minute and said "Angela, thank you for helping me. You are a joy to work with, but I think we're done for now. Let me untie you."

"Please leave me tied for a bit. Set a timer and untie me later."

"I'll watch her," said Denise "and untie her in a half hour."

"Thank you," I said, and moved to my work terminal.

I was appalled by my exchange with Angela, but uncertain what, if anything, I could do about it. I had to contact someone who could help but the only people who could help probably already knew about it. I was a slave, an animal, but even a dog will alert and oppose his master if the master is about to do something stupid and I could argue that Angela was in danger of losing most of her value to the company. I sent an email to Master Peterson that read:

*****

Subj: Request meeting re concern about mental health of sister slave and crew member

Master Peterson:

Please excuse 6719 for being a master of the blindingly obvious, but this slave believes she is required to report this to her masters and being a master of the obvious seems to be part of this girl's role. 6719 begs you to meet with this slave privately to discuss her concern for 2493.

*****

I got a response about a half hour later that read:

"Meet with me at 1600 in my office. Equip yourself with wrist and ankle bands and bring a tawse."