Virtual Slavery Pt. 02

All characters are over 18 and this fictional story involves non-consensual sex. Many thanks to editor Volunteer_ for valuable improvements and encouragement.

This is the second part of a two part story. You will need to read Part 1 first to make sense of this part.

The story takes place in the fictional world of legal slavery explored so creatively by Carl_Bradford, Gentlemanmariner, John_Doe_Stories and other Literotica authors. I recommend reading some of their stories to better understand the slave industry they describe. In this world, slavery is often used instead of prison time to punish people who commit crimes, default on loans, etc. The most common type, of course, is sex slaves who must do anything and everything their master commands. Those slaves are first forced into submission through humiliation and abuse.

But, instead of cages and whips and branding, I've taken the business side and slave psychology to a little different place. Enjoy.

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Part 2 - Paul's story

It's really hard now to remember my life before Beth had the accident. I know we'd been married about four years, and were doing pretty good moneywise. We were getting ready to make a down payment on a house. She's a beautiful gal and we loved each other completely. Our sex life was great, just the two of us - until it all fell apart when I was 27 and she was 26.

She hit a biker with her car and messed him up pretty bad. Unfortunately, she had been drinking with her friends and they called it legally drunk.

The judge was harsh and seemed to enjoy giving her a long prison sentence (five years). He's a cruel son of a bitch. I couldn't bear the thought of life without her - but I had no choice. The only thing worse was thinking about Beth's life in prison - the danger and despair she would have to endure.

I was confused when her friend Liz suggested slavery instead of prison. I had only ever felt contempt for the naked slave women I had occasionally seen around town. Just whores, I thought. Beth is no whore. But one year instead of five seemed a little less horrible. When she told me her decision to become a slave, I knew I couldn't argue with her. But, I struggled to accept the fact that my wife would probably have sex with strangers. Neither one of us had any idea what it would do to her - and me.

The day they took her away was terrible in so many ways. Liz had arranged for us to meet with Beth's parents and some friends in a hotel room near Triangle Slave Management (TSM). We were all sad and felt angry and helpless. They came at noon and clipped a huge black collar around her neck and slapped handcuffs on her. Then they made her strip right there in front of everyone and we all felt her shame and fear. They wrapped some kind of blindfold around her head that terrified her and walked her out stark naked. I jumped up to give her a last hug but the guard guy stopped me. I yelled "I love you" to Beth, but she didn't seem to notice. I picked up her clothes and hugged them. I got drunk in the hotel bar that afternoon and the cops called my friend Sammy to drive me home.

There was no news, no information about Beth from the moment she walked out of the hotel. TSM refused to release any information about her. I knew she wouldn't be able to call me, but I didn't expect to be so worried about her. I didn't know if she was dead or alive. I knew she was probably being abused and raped and tortured so my imagination ran wild. My last memory was seeing her, naked and helpless, being taken away by strangers. I was living in my own torture chamber.

It's bad enough to have your wife suddenly leave you and not even call. But knowing that she going to be fucked many, many times by lots of different men cuts a man to the quick. I had to give up the feeling that she was my woman. That hurt - a lot.

I was mostly drunk for a week and I was fired when I didn't show up at work. Sammy finally dragged me to his house and made me straighten up. He got me a job cleaning offices at his company and made damn sure I stayed sober. It took about two weeks before I could think about anything other than Beth's horrible situation.

I tried to call Beth's friend Liz to share my fears and seek any information about Beth. But she didn't return my calls and I remembered that she had never really cared for me anyway. I was confused about some of the things she had said and done before Beth was taken away. She had seemed to have her own agenda while supporting Beth. I guess I also resented her conferring with Beth in private, without my input or knowledge.

I slowly started to come back to the real world and my deep depression began to go away. I tried to imagine a future where Beth came back from her exile and we might try to rebuild our lives. I tried to keep up hope that our love would survive.

But that hope was smashed when I got an email from an account at TSM.

Paul, it's me, Beth. I'm using Ashley's email account. I just want to say that I was so hurt when you fucked that woman on the day I was taken. I thought you would wait at least a few months before cheating on me. While you're out fucking other women, you should know that I'm being fucked, mentally and physically every day, by multiple people. I had hoped that we might someday get back together, but now it's clear we are both sluts. I did love you, but, now, that can never be again. Your former wife, Beth.

Fucked what woman? I hadn't cheated! How could she call us both sluts? I replied to the email asking her to explain what she meant, what had happened. But there was no reply. I tried again, but my email was blocked by their system.

That message killed any hope that I had left. Sammy caught me researching methods for committing suicide and arranged for a therapist to help me. She put me on an antidepressant that made enough difference that I stopped considering jumping off a building.

My Beth was gone. She hated me and would never want to reconcile. I eventually came to accept that fact and knew I had to move on with my life without her. I filed the annulment papers and they went right through since my wife was a slave. I tried dating some women, but couldn't really enjoy it. I learned that I was a very boring date since I mostly talked about how my former good life, and good wife, had been stolen from me.

I moved back into my own house and was lucky to get my old job back. My boss had felt sorry for what happened to Beth, and after I showed I was functioning again, he decided to give me another chance. So, I had two parts of my former life back - but was still missing the most important part.

Four months after Beth had been taken from me, I finally settled into my new, simple life of work and home and watching movies on Netflix. I only thought about her and her horrible slave existence about ten times a day. I knew that her slavery contract would end eventually, but that date seemed too far off to even think about. And her message had made it clear that she wouldn't be interested in me anyway.

That's when Harry came into my life and my world turned upside down - again. His first phone message was short and exciting.

"Hello Paul. My name is Harry Stevens. We haven't met, but I have some very important news for you concerning your wife Beth. Please call me at ....."

For a few minutes I was afraid to call him. For some reason, my anxiety about Beth's situation made me believe that perhaps this guy was calling to tell me that she was dead. Though I had very little hope of ever seeing her again, I still feared the possibility there might be no hope at all.

After I got over my fear, I called him right back. "Mr. Stevens, this is Paul MacMillan. You left a message for me concerning my wife Beth."

"Oh, yes Paul. Thank you for returning my call so quickly. I have some very good news for you. Beth is doing well and I need to talk with you at length about her condition. Can you meet with me tomorrow or Thursday?"

I started to sob uncontrollably. All of my fears and worries about Beth had built up over the preceding months and the words "Beth is doing well" broke the dam of my pent up emotions. Harry waited patiently for me to recover myself.

"Yes, yes. I can meet you. Tomorrow is fine. What else can you tell me about Beth? Where is she? Is she all right?"

I stopped myself from asking the most important question - did she still love me.

"We can discuss all of the details tomorrow, Paul. How about 9:00 AM at my office on Blount Street? Can you meet me there?"

I instantly agreed and he gave me the address. I staggered around the house trying to absorb the shock, trying to figure out what had happened. Was he just going to tell me that she didn't want to see me again? Had she been injured and needed help from me? Had she got pregnant after being fucked by dozens of men and needed a home for her child? There were endless, terrifying possibilities. Obviously, I didn't sleep that night.

I was at Harry's office at 8:30 the next morning and waited outside, impatiently, till 9:00. He's a psychiatrist in a small practice and the receptionist looked at me a little sadly when I gave her my name. She escorted me to a small conference room and said Dr. Stevens would be right in. I was too nervous to sit down and just paced back and forth, staring at the floor.

"Paul, So nice to meet you. Please have a seat."

I reluctantly pulled out a chair and sat opposite Harry at the table. My fears were somewhat relieved when I saw the smile on his face.

"This is going to take a while Paul. So please be patient and let me tell you the whole story before you start asking questions. I know you must be terribly anxious to know about Beth, but we need to proceed carefully to ensure that she and you will both be all right. OK?"

I nodded quickly, accepting him blocking my questions.

"First of all, Beth is fine. She is in good health. She is living in a comfortable home here in Raleigh."

I sucked in my breath and felt my eyes fill. That was wonderful news! My nightmares of her being tortured could end. She was safe!

"Because her original owner has been declared Non Compos Mentis - that is mentally incompetent - her slave contract is available for purchase. The contract runs for a year and the court requires that she serve her full time. I am managing the owner's estate and must put her up for sale."

I froze. "You mean you're going to sell her to someone else?

"Yes, Paul. I am." He smiled. "And for qualified buyers like you, the price is one dollar."

I understood. He was giving her back to me. Her slavery was over!

"Oh, thank you misterrr...I mean, Doctor Stevens. That's the most wonderful news I've ever received. When can I see her?"

"You must understand that she was subjected to the slave training program at Triangle Slave Management. She has been a sexual submissive for four months and that has changed her psychologically. PTSD is only part of her condition. She will be a different woman than the one you knew before. You will need to be considerate of that when you meet her."

I couldn't hold my questions. "When will I meet her? Does she still want to see me? Does she still... love me?"

"Yes, Paul. She does still love you and she wants to see you again as soon as possible. But, we must arrange your reunion and set expectations so you can both rebuild your relationship successfully. That's why I asked you here today. Will you work with me on this?"

I memorized every word that Harry spoke that morning. I told him I would do anything he asked to get back to a life with Beth. Harry explained that Beth's "friend" Liz was his sister and had suffered mental health problems for many years. His own choice of career in psychology had been influenced by his experience with her. He described her unrequited love for Beth and how it had driven her to take advantage of Beth's prison sentence for her own purposes. It was a lot to absorb. How could one person be such a good friend and so terribly cruel at the same time?

Two days later, I drove to a gated community on the west side of town to meet him and Beth and begin our new life. The mansion was still owned by Liz, but Harry was managing her affairs while she was held in some institution. Harry suggested that I move into the house for a few days to give Beth some time to adjust to my presence. I brought two suitcases - one containing my clothes and the other some old things of Beth's. I'd never had the nerve to throw them out. I arrived around 10:00 and he led me into a very large living room full of wide, colorful couches and decorated with lots of large erotic paintings of naked women. Weird, I thought.

"Now, Paul. Remember that she has been trained to be submissive to everyone. She always waits for others to tell her what she is allowed to do, so she will be very reserved when she sees you. I have warned her that you are here and she fears that you will hate her because of her activities as a sex slave. She needs to see your acceptance of her."

"I can't wait to accept her, Harry." I confirmed. I hadn't told him about my concern about the one email message and her accepting me. I felt my body shaking in anticipation.

"Hello master Paul."

I spun around. My eyes jumped open but my vision was clouded with darkness around the edges. Beth was kneeling in front of me, gazing at the floor. Harry interrupted, "Stand up and look at your husband Beth."

She rose gracefully in one movement. She was beautiful. Detailed makeup made her eyes seem larger and her lips fuller. Her soft cheeks were flushed. Her blonde hair was long and brushed to a luster. Her light blue dress was low cut, revealing the tops of her perfect breasts. The curves of her body were shown off by the close-fitting waistline of the dress.

I stepped forward and hugged her, giving in to the longing for what I had missed for so long. I squeezed her against me and felt the warmth of her body - but not of her spirit. She put her arms around my waist, but simply held them there. There was no passion, no emotion. I felt a chill run through me.

I stepped back and looked into her face. She was smiling, but it seemed like a rehearsed smile. I had a moment of panic that she wasn't really happy to see me, to hold me. Harry interjected again. "It's alright Beth. Show Paul how much you missed him. You can express your true feelings for him."

Beth's face softened and her smile became genuine. "I love you master Paul," she murmured. My happiness was complete - but my anxiety increased. She still loved me, but referred to me as "master". I began to realize the extent of the damage she had suffered.

We spent the next hour telling each other about the previous four months, and each appreciating how much the other had suffered. Her experience was much worse, of course, and I could tell that she was protecting me from most of the most horrible details. We both cried in sympathy for the other's pain.

Harry was very supportive in helping Beth open up and explaining her condition to me. He also told us about his sister's mental illness and apologized for the horrible things she had done to us. He advised that we take our reconciliation slowly, especially our sexual relations. He had earlier explained to me that she had been trained to be a passionate, submissive slut and I shouldn't judge her by my own standards. I was both concerned and also a little turned on by his advice.

Before Harry left, we moved the suitcases and Beth's little wardrobe into the larger bedroom that Liz had occupied. We locked the door to the room Beth had been confined in. At each step, Beth hesitated and waited for instructions from Harry or me. She couldn't even decide which side of the closet she wanted for her things.

Harry very generously offered his psychiatric services to Beth at no cost. I could tell he felt guilty for his sister's actions. Since he had control of all of Liz's assets, he had arranged for grocery deliveries and a housekeeping staff to visit every few days to maintain the huge home as long as Beth had been there. That allowed us to just focus on each other. He promised to check in daily and gave us a group hug before he left. He seemed as nice a guy as his sister was horrible.

As the front door closed behind him, Beth and I looked at each other and smiled.

"You are my master now Paul. What can I do to please you?" she asked.

"Oh, Beth. Everything you do pleases me. Are you ready yet to make love with me?"

"Yes, master. I am ready for you."

In seconds, Beth and I were in each other's arms, kissing passionately. After four months of frustration, my own lust was volcanic. Beth surprised me by leaping up and wrapping her legs around my waist and thrusting her tongue deep into my mouth. When I began to respond, she pulled her face away and yelled "Please fuck me master, fuck me now!"

I was shocked by her attitude, but didn't hesitate to comply. I staggered to the nearest broad couch and threw her down on her back. She instantly raised her hips, pulled her dress up around her waist and yanked her panties off. I dropped my pants and underwear in one motion, not bothering to pull them off my ankles. I fell on top of her and she grabbed my cock and pushed it into her pussy. We both moaned and humped furiously and it took only a minute for me to come. I lay on her, stunned. By the time my brain began working again, Beth was pushing me off and flipping me onto my back. The passion in her face was indescribable. She was an animal in heat. She leaped over me, straddling my waist, and tried to plunge herself down on my now semi-hard - thus useless - dick.

She moaned in frustration and said, "May I please suck you master?"

I nodded furiously and she quickly shimmied her body lower and took my shaft in her mouth. I had always enjoyed her blow jobs, but this was a different experience. Every nerve in my groin was being stimulated at the same time. I felt her tongue stroking the underside while her fingers tickled my balls. She was sucking so hard I could feel the blood being drawn into my penis, engorging it in seconds. As it grew, she drew it deeper into her throat and began swallowing motions to stroke the head. Incredibly, it brought me to orgasm again in a short time. I screamed to express the pleasure and felt my cum shooting into her mouth. She continued to suck until I pulled myself out.

Beth lowered her eyes and timidly asked "Did I please you master?"

"Oh my God yes, Beth. That was incredible. I'm so happy to be back with you, to have you in my arms again. I love you."

"I'm glad, master. I love you too. Perhaps someday you might give me permission to cum also?"

I froze. What had I done? I had gotten off - twice - with no concern for her pleasure. What a selfish prick. Our first chance to make love again and I had simply got myself laid.

"Oh, Beth. I'm so sorry. Of course, you have my permission to have as many orgasms as you possibly can. I will try to please you as much as you please me. Let me be your slave now."

I rolled her onto her back and pushed my face between her legs - and into her hairless pussy. I stopped for a moment to inspect this treasure that I had never seen bare before. She was clearly aroused with feminine juices coating her lips and my cum running down her slit. I tried to control myself this time and used my tongue delicately and teasingly. She squealed and shuddered as I explored her labia and clit. She soon grabbed my head and slammed my face into her wet, velvety tissue. I answered by thrusting two fingers into her passage and sucking viciously on her clit.

Beth and I had made love hundreds of times in the past and I knew how she acted and reacted when she experienced a good orgasm. But, this time was very different. She was loud. Very loud. "Fuck me! Fuck me!" at the top of her lungs. She violently thrust her hips (and my head) up and down at a frantic pace. My face was sprayed with her essence. It went on for almost a minute until I pulled my head away to catch my breath. I felt proud of myself for having given her such pleasure.