This is a dystopian fantasy about a women who is sold into sex slavery which ends in romance with her new owner. If the slavery aspect bothers you, please skip this.
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I guess in one sense I was lucky, though it sure as hell didn't seem that way at the start. I am Emily and was 20 when this all started. After they changed the bankruptcy laws to make personal bankruptcy impossible, they made other changes. The lenders wanted their money back and were not too particular how they got it.
They had laws changed to allow for what they ironically called voluntary servitude. Basically you 'discharged' your debt by becoming a slave. Then in every lending contract they added a stipulation that defaulting on the loan was tacit agreement to voluntary servitude. Voluntary, my ass. Pretty quickly, increasing numbers of people became slaves.
They also changed the laws so that death did not allow one to escape repayment. The next closest relative automatically became liable for any loans of the deceased. My father had a good job and had taken out large loans because my mother required expensive medical care. When my parents died in an auto accident, I became liable for those loans, under the new rules. Insurance could not come close to covering it all.
I quit school and took two jobs and struggled to make payments on the loans. It was hard and I often was up to the deadline before I could make the payment. I had a payment due by noon on the first, so I needed to drop off my payment before going to work at 7am. Of course the lender was not open that early, but they had a drop box, so I left my payment there and went to work, confident that I'd made my obligation one more month.
I finished my first job and went to the second and worked that. I got home after 9pm and was exhausted. I no sooner got home than there was a knock on my door. I had no idea who would be at my door at that hour, but went and opened it. There were three very burly guys there and they pushed their way into my tiny apartment.
"You have a loan through Friendly Finance Company."
"Yes, and I'm current on my payments."
"According to our records, your payment was not received on time."
"I left that in the drop box at 6:30 this morning."
"Items in that box are not processed until after the close of business."
"But I left it there before the deadline."
"It was not received until after the deadline."
"But you have my payment."
"Not received on time."
"I work two jobs, neither of which is close to your location. I had no way of getting to your place during office hours."
"Not our fault. Not our problem."
"Whatever, you still have your money."
"Because your payment was received late, you're in default on your loan."
"This can't be happening."
"The company is calling the loan. Unless you have $48,362.59, we have to exercise our option."
"I don't have that kind of money."
"Then by your agreement, you are entered into voluntary servitude."
"You can't do this."
"Yes, we can, it's in your loan agreement."
"Please don't do this. I made a good faith effort to get that payment in, and left it there in time."
"You can either cooperate, and this will go easily, or fight us and we may hurt you."
I wept. I was getting screwed by a loan company that was using the rules to their advantage and my disadvantage. Two of the goons took my arms and took me from my apartment. The third goon snapped a metal collar on my neck. There were enough stories out there that I knew it was a slave collar, was locked on and had GPS so I could easily be found if I tried to run away.
My hands were handcuffed behind my head as they led me to a van outside. One goon drove while the other two kept watch over me. Between handcuffs and the collar, I had zero chance to get away, but they were taking no chances at all. They had me lying on my stomach, so I couldn't really see where we were going, not that it mattered. I was in their complete control.
"Remember that cunt last week who kept ranting that her daddy had money and would save her?"
"Yeah, what about her?"
"She was half right. Her daddy bought her slave contract. She's a slave but now daddy is her owner."
"So is she free and clear?"
"Naw, man. Daddy is making her his for real slave. Bitch has to toe the line for the first time in her life."
"Serves her right. She was such a bitch when we picked her up"
"She figured whatever she ran up, daddy would pay off."
"In a way he did."
"Just making her pay for it now."
"So what do you think they'll do with this one?"
"Just look at her - as sexy and cute as she is - we both know what they'll do with her."
"What? What are they going to do with me?"
"You'll see - soon enough."
"Any more pickups after we drop this one off?"
"She's the last one for the night."
I wanted to cry, but didn't want to give them the pleasure. I was afraid of what might be in store for me, but prayed for some sort of reprieve. I guess I got it, though not quickly or as I'd expected. We finally arrived at where they were to drop me off, and they lifted me up off my stomach so I could exit. I dreaded it all, but had little choice. They frog marched me into a building.
"Well, well, what have we here?"
"Name used to be Emily Robinson, before her loan default."
"I dropped off my payment before the specified time. This isn't fair."
"Life isn't fair, bitch. You might as well accept that now."
"Damn, about 5'2", maybe 115 pounds, nice shape, cute face, and young. We'll get a good price for this one."
"Please, isn't there anything I can do?"
"You can shut the fuck up and learn to be a good slave."
"With the way she looks, I'm thinking sex slave."
"God, please, no."
"Get her clothes off her."
"You can't do this to me."
"Actually, we can. Besides, we need to tattoo your slave ID on your ass."
I was wearing jeans, and one of the men unzipped them and pulled down jeans and panties in one quick move before I could even react. They got those completely off me, along with my shoes, and I stood there naked from the waist down. They took my handcuffs off but held my arms tight as they took off my blouse and bra.
They handcuffed my hands behind my head, hooking the short chain of the cuffs to my slave collar. I was now naked with no ability to cover any part of me. Another man came in the room, and the three that had taken me left for the night. The two remaining walked me to another room, and made me lie face down on a table, still quite naked.
There was a stinging and burning feeling on my ass as they tattooed it. It didn't take too long. They weren't doing anything fancy of artistic, just a number and a symbol to indicate that I was now a slave. That was part of what they did with every slave, tattooing and putting on the collar. Supposedly, this was voluntary, but no one who went onto slavery did it voluntarily.
After they were done with the tattoo, they took me to another room, where they applied some cream to my underarms, muff, and legs. The cream was one that not only removed the hair there, but prevented it from ever returning. They didn't want slaves, particularly female sex slaves to have any hair in those areas.
I was now thoroughly marked. Even if I managed to be freed from my bondage, I'd still have the tattoo and hair removal marking me as having been a slave. This was all very quick. They clearly processed a lot of slaves and had this all down to a science and wasted no time or effort. Still naked, I was marched to another room where I was given my slave indoctrination.
My owner was always to be addressed as master. I was only to speak when spoken to and only if what was said to me required an answer. I was to look down in the presence of non-slaves and to be submissive. I frankly would have cried, except I was almost beyond crying. I tried one more time to protest being enslaved, and was punished for speaking out.
There were certain standards for the treatment of slaves. We had to be fed decently, cared for and cleaned. Our owners could not break any bones or do anything that left scars. We were to get proper medical treatment. It all sounds pretty benign, but we could still be punished, and we could expect constant humiliation.
They took me to another room, where they gave me a complete medical examination. They took blood and did xrays and scans. They implanted something that would keep me from getting pregnant and also minimize periods. They said I had no sexually transmitted diseases and seemed to be in perfect health. After that, I was taken to a small room with a cot, and provided with some food and had my handcuffs removed. The room had no windows and the door was locked from outside.
"In case you were wondering, little girl, you won't be given any clothes. Shit, since you're going to be a sex slave, you may not wear clothes again until you are so old and ugly that no one wants you anymore."
He laughed and left, closing the door behind him. I did check the door after he left and it could not be opened. I sat down on the cot and began to eat the food that was left for me. It seemed to be on a par with airline or hospital food - bland, unappetizing, but probably nutritious. A little later, the lights dimmed and I lay down on the cot and cried myself to sleep.
...
I was awakened the next morning by someone bringing me food. After I ate, someone came back, put me back in handcuffs behind my head, then hooked a leash to my collar and led me from the room. They took me to a bathroom where I peed and shit, and then received a douche and an enema 'to clean me out'. They took me to a shower where someone else washed my body, since I was still cuffed.
After the shower, they took me to someone who dried and styled my hair. They spent far more time on my hair than I ever bothered to do. Then someone else put makeup on me. After they made up my face nicely, they didn't stop, but put makeup on my nipples to make them more apparent, like they weren't already. They also put makeup on my labia, making them darker and redder.
After they were done, they talked among themselves about how they were sure I'd bring an excellent price at the slave auction. Since I'd already had a few punishments, I said nothing unless they spoke directly to me, which they never did. I was nothing more than a piece of meat that they were prettying up for sale. It didn't matter to them what I thought.
I was taken to another room, hands still cuffed behind my head, and told to stand with feet well apart. They made it clear that they'd use a spreader bar to do that if I didn't cooperate. I did as they asked and stood there as six men came in the room. These were the potential buyers and they were here to inspect the merchandise.
"As is normal, you aren't allowed to touch the merchandise until or unless you buy it. If you touch her before then, you are subject to a ten thousand dollar penalty."
"Damn, this one is almost worth paying the fine."
"Come on, George, fucking behave."
They all got about as close to me as they could without touching. They went around me, looking at me from in front and in back. One asked if I could bend over so they could get a better look at my ass. I did as they requested and he even got one of the staff to spread my ass cheeks so he got a better look at my asshole. They had me stand straight up again and began asking questions.
"Okay, slave, how many men have you been with in your life?"
"Two, sir." I had to address an owner as 'master', but none of them owned me yet, so 'sir' was the proper term.
"Roughly how many times have you been fucked in your life?"
"Ten times, sir."
"Only ten times?"
"Yes, sir."
"Does that include sucking them off and taking them in the ass?"
