Slave Foot Patrolwoman

Roberta strode out of the station wearing her uniform: her cap, mirror shades, her collar, a navy blue tube top emblazoned with POLICE on the back, her badge pinned to the top (also through the skin of her left breast, she liked to feel some pain while working) a blue canvas shoulder bag, a wide leather belt from which hung a key ring with many keys, a pair of handcuffs and an electric prod, and a pair knee-high black boots. The fact that she was walking outside with her ass and pussy exposed might seem unusual but she was wearing a regulation summer uniform for a slave courtesy foot patrolwoman on the Briarton police force.

Briarton had been founded in 1870's in what was then an unsettled place by a group of old-timey BDSM enthusiasts in order to pursue their lifestyle without outside interference. The town grew and thrived while the country grew around it. It was now a prosperous town of over 20,000 inhabitants where three quarters of the adult woman and one third of the adult men were permanent voluntary sex slaves, more than half the adult population.

Laws and customs are different than most other communities: for instance, there are no indecent exposure laws, adults may be nude or wear whatever gear they or their owners see fit in keeping with the town's safety and efficiency ordinances. Prostitution was legal, in fact, an uncollared person (the Briarton term for a non-slave) allowing the use of their slave by another for a financial consideration was just considered neighborly.

Don't think Briarton was a free-for-all sex resort. It was a working town with businesses, families, government and most everything else a modern town has. Over the years the Board of Masters had developed ordinances in order to insure that the town ran safely and efficiently without undue distraction or danger. Because Briarton's only serious crime was occasional slave abuse, (the uncollared were expected to inflict pain on slaves: slave abuse was intentional behaviors that cause lasting negative effects on the physical health or functioning of the slave) it was Roberta's job as courtesy patrolwoman to see that the ordinances were followed.

It was a bright summer Saturday morning meaning there would be a lot of pedestrian traffic. Briarton has automobiles just like everywhere else but it is a walkable town and most Briartonians prefer to walk (or crawl) in order to better see and be seen. As required by town law all slaves were recognizable by their collars. Collars could come in various styles but they had to be black and be of regulation width with a metal tag in the front embossed with the name and address of the slaves owner. All slaves were owned by some one, most by individual uncollareds, the others by one of Briartons many social clubs for the use of their members or one of the agencies that rented slaves to uncollareds willing to pay the fees and abide by agency rules.

A surrey rolled by pulled by a male and female team of two pony slaves, nude except for boots, bits, and harnesses. Roberta glanced at it to make sure its permits and safety equipment were in order. The elderly man in the seat must be fairly well off. A team and surrey along with permits would not come cheap. At least here on the street his whip would be for show. It was against the ordinances to inflict pain on slaves in public. The town had no objections to slaves being in pain, slaves thrived on it. It had been found that public infliction was distracting and reduced productivity. Much of the gear that slaves wore caused them pain but could not be put on or taken off except in designated areas (i. e. restrooms, variously equipped adult privacy rooms found in nearly every public building, social clubs, and adult play parks.)

A male uncollared walking his all-fours bitch slave talked to converse with a female uncollared walking her all-fours male dog slave while their slaves sniffed each others butts. Roberta smiled. Pet slaves love to sniff.

As Roberta walked past them, the uncollared man said, "Morning, worthless slut." and the uncollared woman said, "Nice day, stupid twat." Roberta answered back, "Fine weather we're having, sir and madam. The "abusive language" was considered the polite way to address a slave and Roberta enjoyed it. What was not considered polite was for an uncollared to publicly raise his or her voice to a slave or unnecessarily touch them with out their owner's express permission. They were not actually illegal but Roberta was authorized to give citations for disorderly conduct for more extreme instances of bad manners.

A man was walking her way wearing a black hood, cock rings, shackles, and too small spike heels. His hands were mitted and cuffed behind his back.

Roberta took her report pad out of her bag and checked his tag and wrote down the name of his owner."Your mistress sent you out like this?"

"Urnh," he said. He was gagged beneath the hood.

She checked his hood; the eye holes were large enough that his vision was unobstructed. She looked down at his feet. The shackles and heels slowed him down but not enough for him to be a hazard or obstacle. The cuffs behind the back would have to be corrected. Bondage was fine as long as it wasn't deemed to be hazardous. The rule for arm bondage on unaccompanied slaves was they had to be able to bring their hands to their eyes, nicknamed the "peek a boo" rule. Before the rule there were too many instances of accidental blindings and facial damage because the slave couldn't protect themselves. Roberta found a key on her ring that unlocked the cuffs. (As a cop, she was issued a set of "universal keys.") She brought his hands around to his front and locked his wrists together.

"Now bring your hands to your face, so I know everything is safe."

He covered his face with his mitted hands.

"You know your cuffs were against the law. I'll let you go this time but I took down your info and if it happens again your mistress can be fined and you can be put in jail."

To show there were no hard feelings despite her stern warning Roberta gave his balls a friendly little stroke. He let out an appreciative "urnh" and hobbled on.

A master and his male slave approached all done up in leather. They were walking upright but the master was leading the slave on a leash. As the slave passed Roberta he darted his hand out and rubbed her pussy.

The master yanked on the leash. "Gavin, don't get distracted!"

Roberta grinned. "Yeah, Gavin, keep your mind on your master." Gavin was probably one of the many male slaves who despite being attracted to women submit to a master because mistresses are in short supply.

As you may have guessed while it is considered bad form for an uncollared to touch a slave, there is no such rule when it comes to slaves touching slaves. Public sex in frowned upon but the uncollared expect and enjoy seeing their slaves engage in friendly touching. While there can be jealousies and incompatibilities between slaves most slaves have affectionate attitudes toward their fellow slaves. Seeing their slaves touch each other makes the slaves seem to be the innocent sex animals that every good slave strives to be.

In former times most slaves were house slaves; doing only household chores and pleasuring their owners. Now due to present day social and economic conditions most slaves have paying jobs. The pay goes right to their owners; as property themselves slaves don't own anything but they can and do work in nearly every conceivable field and position except for elected office. Roberta is a cop. She graduated from the Briarton police academy. Other slaves go to Briarton's fine four year community college or vocational school. Many go away to "outsider universities" where after adjusting to the differences between Briarton and everywhere else they study whatever they and their owner think they have aptitude.

Every workplace has its own rules of conduct and what is best for the job may alter expected relationships between slaves and uncollareds. For instance, if Roberta worked her way up the ranks on the force she would eventually end up with some uncollareds below her on the chain of command. They might call her "stupid cunt" to her face but still would be expected to follow her orders.

Roberta saw a harnessed up chubby young slave girl aged about twenty sitting on the bench near the bus stop. She had a look on her face that wavered between anticipation and anxiety. An older uncollared man sat down beside her and handed her a wooden disc. The disc system allowed owners to lend out their slaves without telling the slave the particulars while preventing unscrupulous uncollareds from misusing slaves without the owners permission. Each disc was marked with signs that identified as belonging to the slaves owner. It also had the name of the lender and, usually, an expiration date and time. Once handed the disc a slave was expected to treat the lender as his or her owner and do whatever the lender told them until expiration. The slave looked at her temporary new master and smiled, he was older but rather handsome and didn't have a weirdo look that might indicate he'd want to do something she wouldn't like. Slaves do whatever their owners, permanent and temporary, want but they all have acts they prefer and don't prefer. As the girl willingly followed behind her master for a day, Roberta imagined she was in for an interesting time.

Roberta walked past a group of teens, three boys and four girls. Minors under the age of eighteen are not allowed to be or own slaves. They were wearing shorts and tee shirts similar to the clothes outsiders where, if anything a bit more conservative than what teens wear in other towns. When they came of age it was probable that four of them would become slaves. Roberta tried to imagine which ones

Roberta thought back to her eighteenth birthday when her life became what she always dreamed it would be. After finishing her cake and ice cream her father said, "I have something for you." and dropped a brand new collar on the table in front of her.

"Please, put it on, master," Roberta said, trying to contain her excitement.

Her father put the collar around her neck and tightened the latches in the back. The tag in front had her father's name on it. When young slaves first become slaves they are considered the property of the head of household, usually the oldest uncollared, until they are transferred.

"Now strip naked and get down on the floor next to your mother." her father/master said."

As quickly as she could Roberta was naked and on all fours next to her mother, already naked and on all fours. Her mother glanced at her daughter. Mom's face was smeared with chocolate cake because she had eaten it off the floor like an animal as usual. She had a look of maternal pride on her face. Her only daughter had become a slave like her. Roberta had watched her father degrade her enslaved mother her entire life but, nevertheless, loved and respected her like all good Briartonian children respect their elders, enslaved or not.

Roberta felt a stinging pain on her bare upraised ass. Her father was giving her first caning. Most modern Briartonian parents don't use corporal punishment on their children so the pain she felt marked the beginning of her new life as an adult slave. Her father continued hitting her ass with the cane until Roberta lost count of the blows and began to fear she would not be able to stand the next blow.

When he finally stopped she rested with her ruddy stinging ass in the air for her father and brother to see.

"Are you all right, dear?" her mother asked.

"Yes, mom, I'm fine." She was more than fine. She felt the pride of being grownup.

"Please, mistress, don't pull so hard; I can't walk that fast." Roberta brought herself out of her reminiscence.

A mistress was roughly leading her female slave through town. The mistress was dressed in a pseudo-military uniform of black PVC with crotchless shorts. She was carrying a riding crop. Except for her collar the slave was dressed all in pink, pink hair ribbons, shear pink shortie negligee without breast coverings that exposed her large breasts with silver bells clamped to the nipples, pink spreader bar on her ankles, pink bunny slippers. Her wrists were bound with a pink canvas band with which her mistress was pulling her along. The slave looked to be around thirty years old.

"Mistress, please, let me go to a restroom. I really have to pee."

"Quiet and keep moving! You'll just have to hold it!"

Slaves don't usually complain but sometimes owners enjoy playing with whiny slaves. They both seemed to be enjoying the spectacle they were making. That was just as well. Mistresses are rather rare and mistresses with female slaves are rarer still. Perhaps because of their rarity, they receive extra interest from male uncollareds. Roberta noticed several uncollared men surreptitiously following the pair hoping they would go to a play park so they could watch what the mistress would do with the riding crop. Some of the slaves might have been interested, also, but they pride themselves on their discipline that causes them to only follow their owner's wishes and the duty of their jobs. Because of this, interest in mistresses could become intrusive; there were clubs where male uncollareds were not allowed.

Social clubs were an important part of Briarton life. Briartonians are tolerant and neighborly to each other but have different needs and tastes. The clubs bring together people with similar interests. Slaves are not members of clubs. They only enter them when they are brought or sent in by their owners, permanent or temporary. This does not mean they don't spend much time in clubs. They are usually a vital part of most club's activities.

It was getting to be lunchtime. Roberta decided to stop at one of the restaurants her master had authorized. On the way in she saw the two pet slaves she saw earlier. Their leashes were looped to a pet rack next to a real German shepherd. A pet rack is a metal frame with blunt spikes that leashes are looped to. Ordinarily, except in play parks, slaves are not allowed to be bound to fixed objects in public. Pet racks are a minor exception because if the pets have to be moved for any reason it just takes seconds for them or anyone else to remove the loop.

Roberta walked over to see them more closely. The female stuck her nose in her pussy and the male stuck his nose in her ass. Pet slaves love to sniff. Roberta tousled their hair and said, "You behave yourselves like good little pets." They barked happily. Roberta looked over their gear, mitts, knee pads, buttplugs with tails. The male was locked in a very restrictive cock cage. Many pet owners mask their pet slaves but these two only wore makeup. The male's makeup was quite impressive; his mistress must have some artistic talent. The bitch's was more slapdash as if her master had neither the ability or patience to do a better job. When Roberta wasn't working her brother sometimes put her in pet gear and took her out walking. She always enjoyed it. Roberta petted the German shepherd, a dignified old boy. She likes dogs almost as much as human pets. The two human pets seemed to be enjoying each other's company. Roberta was guessing that they were secretly hoping their owner's would take them to the play park and remove the male's cage so they could breed while their owner's watched.

Roberta walked into the restaurant. The hostess handed her a hygiene protector, a pair of paper painties with an elastic waist. They were on-size-fits-all and not flattering at all. She pulled them on. Health regulations state that anyone in a business serving food or drink must have their ass and genitals covered. The hostess led her to one of the tables designated for unaccompanied slaves and handed her the menu. Roberta looked over the slave food section, her master didn't have a problem with her ordering from the regular menu but today Roberta was in the mood for slave food. She ordered the vegan mash. Her father and brother ate meat but she and her mother thought it was wrong for slaves to eat animals that they were no better than.

While she was waiting, she took a two quart flask out of her bag. It was filled with her father's urine. When she got home he would check to see that she'd drunk it all. Today that would be no problem. It was a warm day and she was thirsty. Some restaurants forbid outside drinks but this was a casual place and she was a regular and a member of the force. The flask was aluminum so patrons who wished to believe she was not drinking piss were free to do so. She took a long satisfying swig.

Her mash arrived, a lukewarm unappetizing bowl of peas, chickpeas, tofu, beets and other vegetables mashed together. A large spoon was placed beside the bowl. At home Roberta often ate out of a bowl on the floor like an animal. This was not allowed in restaurants; food had to be eaten sitting at the table using the provided containers and utensils. The large spoon and the stickiness of the mash made it difficult to eat neatly. Soon, the mash was smeared on her lips and chin and some had dropped on her tube top. Every few bites she washed it down with a mouthful of urine.

Roberta was having a good day. She was thinking she'd like to do something to improve her afternoon. She remembered she had a large hard rubber butt plug in her bag. After she finished her meal she went to the restroom. She looked in the mirror and wiped the mash off her face and tube top. She went into a stall. She considered simply pissing in her hygiene protector but decided against it; the person who took out the restaurant's trash might not want to deal with her piss. She sat down on the toilet and listened to her piss flowing into the bowl. She stood up and flushed. She took her buttplug out of her bag. Since she could discreetly insert the plug here in the stall, she decided not to go to the privacy room. As with all gear, plugs could be openly worn but had to be put on and taken out in private. She pushed the butt plug into her asshole and felt an exquisite mix of pleasure, pain, and shame as it stretched her anus. The rule at her house was she could insert a plug when she chose but once it was in it could only be removed by a master. She figured that would not be long; her masters always had use for her asshole.

She walked to the counter and handed the cashier her master's debit card. As a slave, she had no money of her own. The card allowed her to make incidental purchases. A record of all purchases were immediately sent to her master's phone to prevent her from making unapproved purchases. On the counter, she saw a jar marked "pet treats." She found the table where the master and mistress of the pets outside were sitting.

"Sir, madam, please, would it be okay for me to give your pets a treat?"

"I guess it would be okay, dumb twat. But only one each, we don't want to spoil them."

"Sure, stupid slut. By the way, their pet names are Pippa and Happy."

Roberta went back to the counter. "I'd like to buy three pet treats." This was not an authorized purchase but it was small and her master liked it when she interacted with other slaves on the job. She probably wouldn't be punished if she told him all about it.

"Sure thing, honey," said the cashier as she pulled three small, round lumps out of the jar. The cashier was also as slave. Slave sometimes speak "owner talk" to slaves they know well but usually call each other things like "honey" or "sweetie."

Roberta knew how the treats tasted, a nondescript chewy taste, but she always enjoyed eating them when she received them as a pet reward.

As she walked out of the restaurant, she pulled off her hygiene protector and threw it in the trash. I felt good to get that thing off.

She walked toward the pet rack. "Pippa, Happy, I have something for you!"