The Wild West and Sex Slavery Ch. 03

Chapter 3 Angela enters the duels

June 2045

IN A CONFERENCE ROOM IN A HOTEL IN HAMBURG

The Markus Söder Hotel was named after the Bundeskanzler, who agreed in 2027 to keep Bavaria from forming an independent country as long as he became Chancellor of Germany for life. At the hotel, the Reverend Mark Tailor Brown, Elvis ("Neck") Wallace of the Wallace Import & Supply Co., Senior "Kultur, Sex und Sport" reporter, Lena Fesch, and junior reporter,Angela Assad, gathered for Ms. Assad to sign a contract. Under the contract, Assad would receive 5000 Euros (worth about 2000 Euros in 2020 Euros) from the Wallace Import and Supply Corp. to participate in a paintball gun duel at High Noon the following Saturday with 15 other women.

Merely participating in the duel was not the major component of the contract. Assad was to receive much more money for winning a duel and would leave the field after she won a duel. If she lost, there would be another duel. But if, after three losses, she made it down to the final duel and lost that final fourth duel, Angela Assad would become an indentured servant -- some would say "sex slave" - for twenty years on a large ship cruising on rivers or seas flowing in or near the Free American States under God (FASUG). The FASUG is one of the countries formed in 2030 from the national divorce that broke up the United States.

"Reverend Brown," Lena asked, "does one of the major Free States under God ministers attend every contract signing in the FASUG?"

"No, Ms. Fesch, of course not," Rev. Brown replied. "But we need a holy witness to the first contract signed by every woman who agrees to participate in these indentured servant contests to make absolutely certain that there is no form of coercion involved in the agreement."

"Is poverty a form of coercion?"

"Loosely speaking, maybe some socialist-minded people might say it is, but if the desire to have material things were considered a form of coercion, there could be no contracts for anything, and no work would get done," the reverend answered.

"I'm sorry, just one more question, and I'll be quiet for a while," Lena said. "Has anyone ever completed their obligation to be an indentured servant and returned to where they were before they were the loser in one of these contests?"

"No, of course not, Ms. Fesch," Rev. Brown said, "as you know full well, we've only been holding these contests for 9 years, so no one has finished a twenty-year contract obligation. There are a couple of women who were on boats in penal servitude who finished the terms of their sentence. They were encouraged to emigrate to the Social Democratic States of America or some other place as ex-convicts who have served on the boats do not fit well into Free State society."

"Nun, Angela," Lena Fesch said, "Do not tell anyone I told you to do this because I did not suggest you do this."

"You've done much crazier things than this, Lena. What you are doing is like James Bond telling someone not to become a traffic Polizei because being a policeman is a dangerous job. I have been practicing my shooting for a whole month, and I do not think I will lose before I write a story that will make my name as an investigative reporter. And I do not think I will have to work as a prostitute, be raped in a war zone or risk death in a dozen ways like the crazy Schlampe now telling me to be cautious," Angela said.

Angela signed the agreement, gave Lena a smug look and suggested that they head for the office of "Kulture Sex und Sport," the publication for which Lena and Angela worked.

Lena said, "Wait, I have just thought of a couple more questions for Reverend Brown. Reverend, why is it okay to do things on the boats that are not otherwise permissible in the Free States under God? Does it have to do with holy water?"

"No, Fraulein Fesch, it has to do with the fact that the boats are isolated from Free States society, and activities can go on without contaminating the society."

"Reverend Brown, I think you have been watching old movies. 'Fraulein' has not been used to address grown women for decades. But to follow up on my last question, why are some things considered by you to be sins allowed on the Boats, such as gambling and sex outside marriage, while other things, such as abortion and birth control, are not."

"Why is gambling allowed but murder not allowed? Is that what you are asking? Obviously, the religious leaders who make decisions for the Free States have had to make some concessions to the imperfections of human character and allow some sins and not others. Abortion is murder, and anything that prevents a potential human being from developing into a baby is abortion."

"What if I abstain from sex for the rest of my life and all the potential human life from my eggs goes unrealized. Did I commit murder?

"Are you trying to be funny? Your eggs are not a human being; they are half the genetic material needed to make a human being."

"Does that mean that every time I have a menstrual period, I commit half a murder?"

"I am not going to put up with this insulting nonsense, Fraulein," Reverend Brown said as he and Neck got up, with Neck trying his best to maintain a straight face.

"Fraulein, you and your kind mock beliefs that were generally accepted until 80 years ago, a mere blink of the eye compared to the 6070 years since God created Adam. Of course, couples should be fruitful and multiply, women should obey their husbands, and sex is only proper within marriage for women who naturally must remain pure as women are to raise innocent babes.

We do not encourage men to go onto the boats to have sex with women outside the community, but we recognize that many men cannot control their sinful impulses and must be granted an outlet. Women are naturally better at controlling such unholy impulses, and the dangers from them failing to do so are far more grievous. The creator knew all this and made women accordingly."

"Thank you for your candor, Reverend," Lena said before turning to Neck and saying, "One last thing for you, Neck, where's your friend Killer?"

"Killer had a late night, last night. You kin guess what that might be about. I think he said somethin about meeting a woman in St Pauli when I suggested we meet for dinner after the duel. That's all I know. We don't get into each other's personal business and Killer doesn't explain much what he's doing or why. Knowin Killer, though, I bet she was really hot.

"You and Frau Sprengler can be my guests again for the duel on Saturday. Angela won't need no ticket to get in at the door she's goin to," Neck concluded.

THE JUNE DUEL

Saturday at 11:50 found Lena and Frau Sprengler sitting with Neck in the grandstands at the Winnetou paintball duels. Frau Sprengler asked Neck, "All your contestants are what one might call conventionally sexy women, Neck. They look like they hopped out of a fifty-year-old Playboy Magazine. Do you ever give a girl with a flat chest, over 50, a crooked nose, a bit of fat or a big bottom a chance?"

"Not in these contests," Neck answered. "I ain't so restrictive myself. I think you're plenty young an pretty for me, Frau Sprengler, but we're paying too much to find and obtain women through these contests to risk gettin someone that the boats won't buy because they fear the customers won't pay much to screw them. There are some, shall we say, older and less conventionally attractive women that come to the boats through penal servitude and bank foreclosures. Most of them are on the lower-priced boats, although the boat owners are not rigid about that, at least. Sometimes a woman has a lot of skill and class or a special look, and the owner of the Everleigh, the Risin Sun or another one of the higher price boats thinks he can peddle her services. But that's the exception. I can't take a chance.

Down on the field, the June Duel did not go as Angela, competing with the name "Angel Eyes," imagined it would. When she saw the random-selection device put her up against undefeated Gertrud Fassbinder in the first round, she knew her chances of winning the first round were nil. Sure enough, Fassbinder easily beat Angela to the draw and hit her with a paintball to the heart before Angela moved her gun.

In the grandstands, Lena noted in a detached manner, "Angela was correct in conceding that she would not be among the best, but it remains to be seen if she is among the worst."

In the dressing room below, Angela replaced her white torso suit for one that did not have an ugly red spot in the center and learned that her second round was against Batty Mastercouri. Angela thought she had a good chance against the sultry Greek from Heraklion, and Angela beat Mastercouri to the draw by a milli-second. But Angela's shot passed an inch over the Greek woman's right shoulder. Mastercouri's hit Angela's shoulder.

"Cretan Archers were known for their skill and accuracy," Frau Sprengler said to Lena. "Perhaps that also goes for their paintball warriors."

Changing her white torso covering the second time, Angela was more confident and nervous. Angela was two losses away from two decades of sex slavery. Two more losses, and Lena, not her, would be writing a story about the Winnetou paintball gun duel. Only Lena would write about how Angela was on a boat providing sexual services on a river or the Gulf of Mexico. Angela imagined that Lena would enjoy writing that story and was horrified at the prospect of Lena getting that satisfaction. I have to focus and not panic, Angela told herself.

This third duel, though, was also a loss for Angel Eyes. Kitty Carsonari had had a few rocky starts and had a record when she faced Angela of 2-7. Angela and Kitty missed their first two shots, but Kitty nailed Angela about on her belly button on Kitty's third shot.

"Looks like Angie might be travellin west soon," Neck said to Lena and Frau Sprengler in the stands. "The Italian Carsonari seems to have learned more from spaghetti westerns than Angela did. Perhaps Angela shouldn't have taken the name of the Bad in the Good, Bad and the Ugly."

Lena tried to act horrified but was not feeling that way. In fact, she had to admit quietly to herself that the vision of Angela having to submit herself to the life of a sex slave turned Lena on. The thought of herself being in such a position seemed a nice fantasy to put in her vast collection of fantasies, but she knew for herself it would only be tolerable as a fantasy. It was safe, though, for her to fantasize about Angela's slavery.

And damn it, no one could say that Lena had tried to eliminate a potential rival. Lena had told Angela that participating in this contest was not prudent. Angela's response that Lena was a supreme hypocrite was accurate but missed the point. The advice of hypocrites should generally be followed as they know well of the evils of which they speak.

"Also dann, what exactly happens to the loser next?" Lena asked.

"Big gang bang. Very carefully supervised, as we don't want to risk any sort of damage to the new acquisition," Neck replied. "Killer an Dr. Galton watch to make sure nothin gets out of hand. Some of the guys who participate are so full of anticipation, horniness and ED pills that the gang bang could resemble a piranha feed fest if you let it. Killer is there to make sure the guys don't go crazy. He's an expert in two or three martial arts.

"Dr. Galton and the nurse check the woman frequently to make sure she is feelin okay. Most women are so pumped up from the duels and dazed by the loss when they reach the gang bang area that they seem to sail through the three-hour gang bang with orgasm after orgasm and never a thought for the future or the past. Course, the type of person who would sign up for the paintball gun contest is perhaps predisposed to enjoy that sort of big party sex thing.

"It would not be the first such event for Angela," Lena noted.

"Nor for you, Lena" Frau Sprengler added. Lena smiled, remembered that she had been the center of a gangbang herself more than once, and said, "Yes, but this is different. I always went back to work a day or two afterwards."

"Well, the women who lose our contests won't see many gang bangs after they get onto the boat. There aren't many gang bangs on the high-end boats. Too much wear and tear on the equipment, and the boats can make more money charging a high rate to some rich dude for an hour than trying to market to six guys for the same hour. Course, all the boats have their own styles, marketin ideas and offerings.

"So anyhow, the losers are generally pretty calm through the gang bang, and most all of em seem to enjoy it. Ain't til they're on the plane for Memphis that the losers start gettin thoughts an concerns about what the hell they just did with their lives. Later, though, they figure that out, and they settle down. At least they all have up to now."

"Some great philosopher said 'freedom's just another word for nothin left to lose,' so the women on the boats gotta think they should make the best of what they got," Neck opined.

"I do not think I would settle down," Lena said, "working as a sex slave on a boat, I would feel I had lost opportunities to do important things."

"Well, maybe, Lena, that splains why Angie is on the verge of becomin an indentured sex worker for the next twenty years, and you are in the grandstand," Neck said.

"And, Lena, a bullet in your head from a pimp or a soldier or an enraged man with a knife you have misled might end a bunch of opportunities too," Frau Sprengler added. Turning to Neck, she asked, "I gather you don't go down for the initial party Mr. Wallace?"

"As a rule, no. I go to the even more important place, to the ticket booths, to make sure all the money is away and accounted for carefully," Neck answered. "Fact is, generally, I don't go in for big parties. I prefer one-woman, one-man, multiple fucks."

On a multi-sided scoreboard down on the field, some highlight films were shown to heighten the tension during the clothing change.

"Pistol Packin Mama mainly packs huge boobs," Neck offered. "If she loses, she might be one of the few women who come through the contests who goes to one of the less classy boats. She'd fit right in on the Josie Mansfield. They specialize in women who have a lot of woman to offer.

When the contest began again, both Angel Eyes in the black hat and Pistol Packin Mama in the white cowboy hat looked and acted nervous as one can be. The closing music from the "Good, the Bad and the Ugly" played. They slowly, wearily neared each other. The crowd fell silent, as did the music when the women were about 25 meters apart.

Angela reached for her mock Colt 45 paintball gun first. She failed to draw cleanly and, weak in the knees from the tension, fell down as she pulled her right leg out from under herself.

Miraculously, Angela's clumsiness worked in her favor. Pistol Packin Mama's first shot flew where Angela's neck would have been if Angela had not slipped. Pistol Packin Mama' second and third shots from the hip hit respectively the dirt and Angela's left big toe. About that moment, Angela had composed herself enough from her fall and embarrassment to fan fire her pistol at Pistol Packin Mama hitting her once on her left breast.

"Neck mused on how Angela's shot from an angle from the ground would have missed Pistol Packin if PPM had not had such large breasts that she pushed out with her fancy bra. "I guess you live by the boobs, you die by the boobs."

Angela just stayed on the ground while Killer and Rodger whisked Pistol Packin Mama out of the stadium to meet her destiny. Sprengler and Lena hugged and pretended to be terribly relieved that Angela would not be on Sunday's flight for Memphis.

Still, on the ground in the middle of the playing field, Angela felt she should be where Pistol Packin Mama was getting her brains fucked out. Her victory had been profoundly embarrassing. After that performance on the field and improbable conclusion, she deserved to be fucked in every conceivable way. She felt she needed to be fucked in every conceivable way.

Angela got up slowly and slowly walked to where she would pick up her 100,000 Euros for winning her duel.

In the parking lot, Angela met the three guys with whom she shared a house in Pinneberg and explained, "When I first moved in with you guys, I said I could not move in a house with three guys and sleep with any of them as it would cause too many misunderstandings and hard feelings. I am modifying that for tonight until you hear from me differently. You can all fuck me anytime I am home and not doing something else. Right now, I am feeling stupid, embarrassed and horny as all hell. As soon as we get home, I am going to take off everything and lay on my bed in the most obscene way I can, and expect everyone in the house with a cock to use it. But no tender, loving crap. I don't love any of you. You're just guys who share the house, and I'm just a crazy, horny Schlampe. Fuck me like an alley cat."

For the next four hours, there was not any time when Angela did not have at least one cock in her body. About an hour after she lost count of her orgasms, she wandered to the shower, washed eight or nine helpings of sperm out of her body and fell asleep. She dreaded waking up and did not get out of bed until Sunday afternoon.

JUSTINE'S BAR

Lena got to Justines and back into the Club at about 23:45. Lena was wearing only a very sheer dark covering that covered nothing. She was happy she didn't have to wear much. It was damn hot.

Killer had entered a bit earlier. Killer had stripped to his speedos after entering the Club with Eva and her two human pets, who called themselves Max and Moritzia. Eva was wearing her summer weight corset. Max and Moritzia wore only the collars and leashes that Eva had put on them.

In the Club social area, Lena instantly recognized Killer despite the Lone Ranger style mask he wore. Away from home and already having a nickname, Killer was just going by "Killer." Lena immediately surmised that Killer must have spent time with Eva and that Eva was responsible for him getting into the Club. I have picked up from Eva a number of lovers, Lena thought, but not allowing herself to think about Sarah Opfer, Eva's former wife, now deceased.

As Eva took Max and Moritzia off for discipline, Lena moved in on Killer. Eva had expected that. Eva had had Killer in her bed and body several times the previous week but knew she could not keep him from Lena and that it would be too dangerous to try. Indeed, too dangerous was her general feeling about Killer. Too dangerous is perfect for Lena, though, Eva thought.

Lena, officially in the Club, "Mutige Schlampe," started with some small talk, "I am told that it never used to get this hot in Hamburg; it must be 34 C in this old theatre. Air conditioning was installed in many buildings in Hamburg twenty years ago but not into an old wreck of a Kino turned into a Club. Later, to avoid wasting energy and adding to the climate disaster, the Bundestag banned air conditioning in everything but hospitals and a few other buildings."

"We continue to use air conditioning freely in the Free States. It is necessary to live through summer. We try not to emit more than we have to, but what the fuck," Killer answered. "The preachers say that God will make it cooler when he wants to."

Killer made no attempt to conceal his focus on Lena's body, from foot to head, or the physical signs on his body of his appreciation of what he saw. Neck hasn't seen her naked, but 10+ is right, if not 11 or 12.

Lena suggested, "You can save power by not overdressing. You look way overdressed now, particularly as it seems there is some sort of bulge under your clothing,"

Killer pulled Lena into a side room. All the usual cliches about physical chemistry were immediately applicable. Killer promptly pulled off Lena's slight clothing and his own briefs. "I feel liberated but not cooler," Killer said.