Canada 2128 -

As a detainee of a country which Canada conquered in the 3rd World War, Darla had submitted an application to become a Canadian citizen. She was denied citizenship and became a prisoner of Canada.

Prisoners judged to be a minimal threat to Canada, were enrolled in a re-education program. Those judged a greater threat were branded P3, and executed.

Those who graduated re-education with less than 95% proficiency in the covenants of Canada's New Socialist Empire were branded P2. A P2 would be assigned to a labor district where they'd live out their life working in the oil fields, mines, or if they were lucky, in a factory.

Those who graduated in the top 5% were branded P1. Every P1 would be auctioned off to Canada's elite ruling class. Many P1 would later wish they were P2. The rumors that Canada's elite were a sadistic dark society, those rumors were true.

Instead of a diploma, Darla's prisoner identification cornea was updated to reflect her P1 status. Usually a P1 would ship out directly to the ruling class member who purchased them. When multiple members bid the same high amount for a P1, a run off auction was held in person. These were rare so they were broadcast for viewing on any Canadian citizen's government issued derma-screen. Darla's run off auction was tomorrow at 3 pm.

****

After devouring her dinner ration and given a required shower Darla was left naked in her prison cell for the night. Every guard and prison official that passed by could see her in all her glory. Some that did used their own Canadian employee identification cornea to access her prisoner identification cornea to read her biography.

As a P1 her data included a more detailed personal description...

Name: Darla Marisol Tiofilo

Citizenship: None, Former United States of America

Canadian Status: Detainee of conquered nation, Prisoner, P1

Prison Identifier: 2878097.USA.DMT.000000

Guardian Member: to be determined

National Origin: American / Florida

Race: Caucasian / North American

Age: 28.473

Height 170.18 cm

Weight: 58.998 kg

Eyes: Blue 368BC1

Hair: Golden Blonde F7D199

Skin color: Fair Porcelain 103

Tattoos: 1) above left ankle interior, red heart with initials MET 2) left ring finger, solid black band with 9-17-26 in gold ink.

Surgical alterations: None

Physical deformities: None

Visual assets: Peach shaped gluteus-maximus, Medium sized mammary glands with 33.71 mm diameter areola, Tulip shaped vagina with golden blonde pubic hair.

Mental deformities: Obedience Deficit Disorder. Disorder stabilizer mesh implanted to amygdala brain cluster.

Fertility: Government sterilized

Orgasmic dysfunction: None, fully capable

Location: 53.6460° N, 113.5382° W

Edmonton Prisoner of War Complex, American Wing 7, Floor 38, Cell 92

At least 30 stopped and stared at her for a few minutes. One, a guard, watched her for 15 awkward minutes or more. She slept surprisingly well. Little did she know a sleep aid was added to her food.

****

Darla stood naked except for hand cuffs on a quarter meter chain. An Auctioneer sat up high behind a podium. To her right was a middle aged man in an expensive suit. On his lapel was a red maple leaf pin. He was handsome, but his overly bushy mustache seemed out of place on him. He was introduced as Field Director Gary Hudson.

To her left stood a woman, maybe 30, so about Darla's age. She wore athletic attire and a baseball style cap. On the cap, the initials CR. Darla wasn't sure what CR represented. She was introduced as Haley Marshal, representative for General Alex Marshal, Canadian Rangers. Ah, the CR.

A gallery filled with dozens of Canada's elite ruling class sat in chairs behind the Auctioneer.

"Field Director Gary Hudson," the Auctioneer instructed. "You have 30 minutes alone with the prisoner, do you wish a guard to be present?"

"No sir," Gary answered in a raspy voice.

"Sergeant of the guard. Take them to Vetting Room A, and stand guard outside the door." The Auctioneer turned off his microphone.

The vetting room was at best twice the size as a prison cell but came with a queen sized bed and a foot locker. When the door closed Darla stepped aside and placed her back to a wall.

"Sit on the bed," Gary instructed.

Darla shook her head, no.

"I will ask just 1 more time, sit!"

"Why?" Darla asked.

"You are one of those," Gary said in disgust. "A typical American who makes everything complicated. Fine!"

Gary grabbed her chain, dragged her to the bed and forced into a seated position. Darla screamed, and tried to resist but he was too strong.

"Do you know why we are here?" Gary asked, both of his hands holding her shoulders down.

"No," Darla screamed. "Guard! Help!"

Gary laughed. "He won't respond to you. If you settle down, stay seated, I will let go and tell you what you need to know about today. Deal?"

Darla contemplated her options. She had two. Fight this guy off, and get beaten or worse. She had no fighting skills and he was very strong. Or, be cool and see where this goes. She'll probably have to fight him anyhow, but maybe not?

"Ok," Darla answered.

Gary let go, and slowly stepped back. Darla stayed put.

"P1's are slaves, that fact they omit from the re-education program," Gary taught. "Only a small percent are purchased for purely domestic service. Well all are. But the majority, nearly all, are sex slaves first and foremost."

"Oh no, not happening!" Darla protested. "Just execute me now. Fuck Canada!"

Gary wanted to slap her, and he raised a hand to do so. But she wasn't his property yet, so he could not harm her.

"General Marshal," Gary went on. "He has several. He wants you for one thing likely. Could his best blow job slave has fallen out of favor. Or he sold his whipping bitch who no longer cries in horrid pain upon each lashing, as she once did. You don't want to be his slave."

"Maybe I do," Darla contested. "Disobey him enough he will kill or sell me to someone who will."

"I forgot they turned off your disorder implant for today's proceedings," Gary shared, leaning against the wall. "So we can see what you are really like. The General's daughter, she will bid high. He likes them feisty."

"And you?" Darla inquired.

"A slave of mine committed suicide," Gary smiled. "I knew she would. About 10% do. But to answer you, I want you for sex. Nothing terribly rough, but you'll be shared with my closest friends. Some of them are, rough. Obey and you'll be cared for. Disobey, and you'll take your own life. Or, now knowing you already want to die, I'll make it impossible for you to do so."

"Sounds like two horrible options I have here," Darla stated. "What ever happened to Canadians being super friendly?"

Gary laughed hard. "You were taught recent history and current events in the re-education program. So you know why we are less, friendly. Hence, I'll not answer the obvious. As I said, obey, and you'll find me friendly."

Gary looked at his watch. "We have 13 minutes left. You can demonstrate your blow job skills for me, or, I'll concede you to the General. Who I know. And he will honor my request to make your life miserable."

Darla opened her mouth, and dropped her knees onto the carpeted floor.

"Good girl," Gary said as he stay motionless on the wall. "Perhaps too good. Suddenly I don't trust you to not bite off my cock."

"I won't," Darla said unconvincingly.

Gary opened the foot locker, and took out a vibrator. "Here, masturbate for me and maybe I'll out bid the General."

Darla took the vibrator and got on the bed. She wasn't going to bite his cock off, but she was relieved he thought she might. Masturbating was less humiliating, she thought.

The vibrator was average cock size, black, and loud when turned on. Darla began working it around her pussy lips. She squirmed on the bed as her pussy became sexually wet for the first time in months.

Gary pulled out his cock and began masturbating. "Don't mind me," he said softly. "Close your eyes!"

Closing her eyes helped take him out of her head. As her clit shivered on the plastic shaft gliding in and out of her pussy, waves of pleasure from deep inside her rushed to her fingers and toes.

Darla smiled as her body tingled, her pussy pulsed. Arching her back high, her orgasm was welling up inside. Her gaze found Gary, who watched her as he fucked his fist.

Moaning loud, she came. Her climactic sounds were the trigger that set Gary's cock off. Gary coated the floor with stream after stream of his seed. Darla twisted up into a ball as she squeezed out what was a great orgasm.

A red light flashed above the door.

"One minute left," Gary announced. He tossed her a towel from the foot locker. He didn't speak another word to Darla as the guard led them out of the room.

She was escorted to a washroom where female guards hurried Darla in cleaning up.

"Mrs. Marshall," the Auctioneer instructed. "You have 30 minutes alone with the prisoner, do you wish a guard to be present?"

"No sir," Haley answered. "That won't be necessary."

Once inside Vetting room B, a different room but identical one that Darla and Gary shared, Haley sat on the bed.

"Tell me about your time with Gary Hudson," Haley asked pleasantly.

"I'd rather not," Darla replied plainly.

"Not the sex," Haley corrected her request. "The lies he told about my father."

Looking at the ceiling, Darla let out a long sigh. "You know. The world has become so fucked up. I don't trust anyone. Not Gary, not you. Hey, you two could be acting together. Maybe you two are a couple, and this is how you both check me out. Is it?"

Haley lay back in the bed and laughed hard. Darla just let her laugh. Watching her, she noticed how physically fit Haley was. She had well defined arms for a girl, and she caught a peak of her stomach as she laughed, flat and tone.

"Thanks for that laugh," Haley said, sitting back up. "I won't clarify fact or fiction as you don't trust anyone. What I will do is paint you the picture you are ignoring."

Standing up, Haley paced beside the bed as she spoke.

"You are a prisoner and will die a prisoner. Only unknown is when you will die."

Darla decided to look back at the ceiling, she found Haley's fitness and commanding presence distracting.

"You will have sex with your guardian," Haley continued. "The unknown is how many beatings will you require before you submit."

Darla closed her eyes. Haley's picture was horrifyingly clear. She had no reason to assume otherwise. But that didn't mean she was going to comply.

"You will submit quickly," Haley said certainly. "As your guardian will assume control of your disorder implant. I'll crank that up just enough so you stop resisting, and hopefully you won't suffer the worst of its side effects."

"Huh?" Darla muttered.

"Finally," Haley finished. "You do have a more pleasant option. Submit. Obey. Behave. Do so, and I'll treat you properly. Grant privileges and protect you."

"Wait, again?" Darla spoke, confused. "Twice you referenced yourself, not the General. Gary said he was a beast, killer of slaves. Why is he not here?"

The red light came on.

"This purchase," Haley added. "It is for me, my own slave. My father has plenty, and recent law allows immediate family of ruling class members to own 1 slave. If, the member will agree to purchase the slave. Hence, my representing him today."

The guard opened the door and escorted them.

"Is it true Gary has a small cock?" Haley whispered as they came before the Auctioneer.

Darla flashed her a grin and gentle nod, yes.

"Mrs. Marshall," the Auctioneer spoke. "Field Director Hudson, please submit your blind bids.

Each looked at their forearm which glowed light blue and punched in their bids. When both bids were received, the Auctioneer dismissed the Field Director.

"Ms. Marshall, Canada thanks your father and your family for your continued excellence in service to her," the Auctioneer concluded. "This P1 is now under the your guardianship, as approved by your father. From Sea to Sea, Glory be to Canada."

"From Sea to Sea, Glory be to Canada," was repeated by all in attendance, except Darla.

"First order of business," Haley said approaching Darla. "Congratulations on your graduation."

"Thank you, Mrs. Marshall," Darla replied softly.

"Mistress, P1's address their guardians as Mistress or Master." Haley handed her a robe. "Second order. Put this on, you'll get clothes at home."

Darla quickly threw it on, she'd been naked before strangers long enough.

"Final order," Haley whispered into Darla's ear. "When we get into the limousine, you'll go down on me. Understand?"

Darla turned until they were face to face, almost touching noses. Haley's eyes weren't stern and cold as expected. They were warm, comforting. Darla hated the hell that was happening to her, and the hell to come. Perhaps accepting comfort when offered is how you survive this fucked up world now ruled by Canada.

"Thank you, Mistress," Darla replied obediently.