This is another of my weird ones. No, it isn't realistic. This is a work of fiction that came out of the more warped area of my mind. As a warning, there is just a very tiny bit of incest at the very end. If that bothers you, skip reading the ending. For those of you that prefer not to read titles, this story contains scenes (actually, it is the main plot) of SLAVERY. I still can't believe that I have to add that warning.
For those of you that like my BTB stories, you will probably hate this one. Do what I do when one of my favorite authors publishes a gay male to crossdressing story - skip it.
This is being submitted under Non-consent/Reluctance. If that offends you, what the hell are you doing looking in this category in the first place?
Non-consent, BDSM, Lesbian slavery, Pegging, M/M, Anal, Bondage, Impregnation, M-F Trans, Gang Bang, Lesbian gang bang. If any of that bothers you, stop reading.
I self-edit and have no desire to do otherwise. You have been warned.
I had it all, until I didn't
Life was great. I was young, beautiful, extremely wealthy, and had a great husband. We lived in a South American country called Archapello. It was a small country, but it had a huge oil reserve that was exploited in a way that benefited all its citizens. Well, maybe not all the citizens, but most of us. Maybe I should clarify that, the true citizens. There were others that were not so well taken care of. You see, in this country, we were allowed to have slaves. Slavery was reserved for those who broke the law. A misdemeanor would get you a fine, and perhaps up to a year in jail, but felonies meant automatic slavery for life. Three strikes? That's funny. Nope, one strike and you are out. We did not have issues with repeat offenders.
This turned out to be a very profitable endeavor for Law Enforcement. When someone was convicted of a felony, the legal system would put the convict up for public auction. The proceeds would go directly into the coffers of the police department that apprehended the criminal and the prosecutors that successfully prosecuted the individual. Needless to say, the prosecutors were not overly interested in plea bargains to reduce any charges from a felony to a misdemeanor. Sure, there were the occasional rumors of police and prosecutorial misconduct, but that was just dismissed as criminals trying to get out of paying for their crimes.
So, here I was. I was 26-years old, 5'6" tall, 38DD breasts, long wavy red hair, slim waist, and 34" hips. Yes, I was very pretty. My husband, Tom, was 5'10" tall and thin. He worked for the government, and he had been born into a wealthy family. We lived in a large mansion out of town with several hundred acres on our estate. Tom had five male slaves to maintain the estate. Yes, they were former criminals, but I never felt unsafe around them. The penalty for a slave assaulting a citizen was extremely harsh, and definitely not survivable. Besides, I treated them fairly well. Tom did all the punishments for the male slaves. Sure, I was above them, and I acted it, but I never actually abused them. As for me, I discussed it with Tom, and told him that I would like a maid to take care of all the household chores. A week later, he came home with Clarice.
Clarice had been convicted of trying to embezzle money from her employer. She had been an accountant. She was a bit older than me at 30, but she had a decent shape and an attractive face. Her black hair came down to her shoulder blades. Her breasts were a bit smaller than mine, but that was generally the case with most women. Tom bought her at the auction to give to me as my maid. Again, I thought that I treated her decently. Yes, there were the occasional punishments that I gave her when she screwed up, especially at the beginning. Clarice was my slave, so I had to handle all her whippings. The severity of the offence also affected the severity and location of the whipping. Minor transgressions got 10 blows to the back. Others went on her ass, thighs, tits, and pussy for really big fuck-ups. Once, it was a whole-body whipping. Early on, I discovered that whipping her actually aroused me. After that, I would have her lick me to several orgasms after I finished with her whipping. Needless to say, I began looking for more excuses to whip her.
Yes, Tom knew about me having Clarice lick me after I whipped her. She was just a slave, so it wasn't like I was cheating on my husband. That only happens if someone has sex with a free person. I even let Tom fuck her ass a couple of times, usually as I was having her lick my pussy or ass. I allowed that because I had absolutely no interest in getting anything stuck up my virgin ass. What did Clarice think of this? Who cares, she's a slave. Eventually, I couldn't find things to whip her for enough to satisfy my urges, so I would just sit in a chair and order her to lick me anyway. I even had her lick my friends when they came over to visit.
"Have you heard what has been going on in the news lately?" My best friend Kim asked.
"No. I really don't pay much attention to that. It's all just so boring, and the journalists seem to be sensationalizing everything to get more ratings. It is all just minor stuff that gets over-blown, so people get scared." I replied. Kim was over for morning coffee. Right now, Clarice was serving it, and soon would be servicing us.
"Well, they have been talking about some slave rebellions. They even announced that they suspect an attack on the government itself."
I laughed. "Seriously? I doubt that very much. They wouldn't dare. There's no way that would happen."
We continued to chat as we sat and drank our coffee. Clarice performed her services on us, then went about her other household chores. About an hour later, Kim left to go back to her home, and I went about my day watching my soaps and reading in the garden. It was early afternoon when I was pulled from my book by a loud clattering and running feet.
"ANGIE! (That's me, Angie). ANGIE!" It was my husband Tom running through the house. I was startled because he was home from work much earlier than normal, and he seemed to be almost terrified.
"Tom, what's wrong? Why are you home so early?" I asked.