Intro
First a word of thanks to the editor, Holly M.
Though the start is innocuous I hope the tale that follows will entertain you. I've used a futuristic setting to create a society where this story would seem ordinary. Chapter One is the real start of the story and will more than justify the use of the Femdom tag.
The passengers crowded forward to the viewports as we exited the wormhole. I sat nursing my scotch and let the excited chatter wash over me. The view was spectacular, a ribbon of bright metal shining in a black star studded sky. Most of the passengers traveling with me were tourists with a smattering of business types. I was here to work.
After a few days holidaying I was going to be working out there on one of the open ends, helping to build the ring out to circle the star. It was half a mile thick and ten miles wide, with a current length somewhere near ten thousand miles long. I'd read all about it. At the current rate, it would take another fifteen hundred years to complete, costing some ten to the eighteen credits.
It was a world so desperate for cash that, with enough money anything was possible if you knew who to ask. It was the only place in the universe where slavery was legal. There were entire districts where clothing was optional, and enclaves could be found that catered to every perverted taste man had developed.
My contract started on Monday at six a.m., leaving me three days to explore. There was a four-hour difference between local and ship time. There it was late evening Friday. Here it was only about mid afternoon? My visa and employment contract should see me through immigration and my few photos and souvenirs shouldn't hold me up in customs. Then it would be party time.
Customs was a breeze, but immigration was unbelievable. Though my credentials were all in order, they had strict health regulations. While it took them five minutes to check my papers, my ordeal in the health centre took over half an hour.
"This won't hurt," the nurse assured me, spraying a small aerosol onto my arm.
I blinked as the needle went in, and watched as she filled three vials with my blood. Despite my clean health record, these people were taking no chances. I'd already been scanned and x-rayed, and I now stood naked while some old biddy of a nurse took my blood.
She pulled the needle out and pressed the plaster on with practiced ease, hardly looking as she tossed it into the sharps bin. She looked up as she stuffed the rack into an envelope.
"I need a sperm sample next and I need to measure you flaccid and erect." she said matter-of-factly.
I would have protested that they were going too far, but I'd learned not to pick fights with bureaucracy and merely wondered what crazy law deemed this necessary.
She swiveled around with a vernier in her hand and scooped up my cock to measure it, her gloved hand reinforcing the strangeness.
"Five and a quarter," she said, turning her head towards a screen.
She began to masturbate me, her thin hard fingers bringing my cock to life and coaxing it to full mast in tens of seconds. If she'd been younger and prettier, I could have enjoyed this, but with her in these surroundings I felt embarrassed and exposed.
"Seven and three eighths," she intoned over her shoulder.
I watched, not wanting to argue, but my own measurement clocked in at seven and a half.
"Five and a quarter," she said as she measured the shaft. "Six dead," she went on after she measured my head.
I liked the sound of that, a six-inch meaty head.
"Here," she said as she handed me a small plastic cup. "Can you do it yourself or do you want films?"
"Do it myself," I found myself saying. It wouldn't take me more than a few minutes considering my enforced celibacy over the past few days.
Her eyes widened as I grabbed my cock and started stroking. No doubt they had a private room somewhere, but I had no hang ups about performing in front of people. I'd had enough gangbangs to cure me of that shyness.
My shudders splashed cum over my fingers as I filled the cup. I wondered if she would want to lick it as she took the cup from me and handed me a tissue.
"Right, just a couple of questions and we're finished," she said capping the cup then turning to put it in the rack. "What's your sexual orientation?"
"Straight," I answered.
"Any preferred fetish?"
Again I wanted to tell her to mind her own business, but I held my tongue. "No, I'm strictly heterosexual."
She turned back to the screen and tapped it a couple of times. "Right, you can get dressed. Turn right outside the door and follow the green line."
I dressed quickly, then grabbed my kitbag and was out. I followed the directions on my pad to find the tram stop and found a seat as I joined the queue. I'd booked a hotel in a nudist district and had an account stuffed with credits to spend.
It was now early evening here. I was hungry, a little tired, and stressed by the ordeal in immigration. A stiff drink was going to be my first aim, with food second and sex a close third. Maybe I could find some chick to have dinner with and bed her afterward. That would be ideal.
The queue stirred as the tram arrived. I stood and shuffled forward as the line closed up, while those on board alighted. I went upstairs to the open air seats, where I could enjoy the fresh breeze while taking in the view.
As we left the spaceport, the buildings gave way to fields of grain and vegetables, the Ring's main export, which got more profitable with every yard that the bots and I would be constructing for them. I settled back in my seat as the tram rumbled on, wasting my precious minutes as we stopped in a couple of small hamlets.
It took me half an hour to get to the stop for the lateral tram. The vehicle filled up with commuters as we got to the outskirts, I got my first proper view of slaves with their red and green collars; red for the natives and green for immigrants, the colour I'd sport for two years if I wanted to move here.
As I waited for the cross tram, I realized I must be out of the grey zone as I saw my first naked blue-collared slave. The man leading her looked like me, broad shouldered with a nice lean waist and the short cropped hair of a spacer. I had to wait until they sat opposite me on the bench to get a good look at her. My cock twitched in my pants as she sat open-legged next to him. She was in her twenties, breasts beginning to surrender to gravity, but looking tempting enough for my fingers to want to stroke and fondle them.
