Growing up outside of the transparent geodesic dome of Nouveaux New York City, which is where the rich live, I'd wanted to be a Thrall for a while. I remember asking when I was younger what Thrall meant, and my parents told me that it was just another word for slave. Why would I want to be a slave? Well, that's partly why I'm writing this. I'm writing this journal to try to make sense of my experiences now that I am a Thrall. I'm trying to communicate with someone, I don't even know who, in some unknown future. I guess I'm just trying to communicate with myself. If I live that long, I'll just re-read this myself in maybe ten years or so.
Although I'm only 19 I've been well educated by my parents, my schools, and others in my community. I've read lots of books from the olden days, even paper books, which I prefer, including memoirs, which has inspired me to write mine. I'm going to be honest about even intimate details, because writings like that were the ones that appealed to me. Since I turned 18 I've enjoyed the sex scenes in novels, and sometimes wish they were even more explicit as I massage my hard cock to orgasm with lotion while reading them.
Life outside the Domed cities of the rich is difficult, which is why I wanted to be inside, and become a Thrall. The summers are very hot outside, and because global warming accelerated so much faster than predicted, parts of coastal cities like New York are now under about thirty feet of sea water. The melting of the polar caps continues to accelerate, and in another hundred years or so much of old New York will be under about a hundred feet of ocean. The halfway abandoned city is now a tourist attraction for some of the dome-dwellers brave enough to visit it, as one by one the colossal skyscrapers of Manhattan begin to slowly collapse, as their flooded foundations are undermined and their steel beams slowly rust.
But again, why would I want to be a Thrall? Mainly self-interest. Even as a Thrall life is better in the Domes than on the Outside, what with the diseases, lawless bands, poverty, heat, and so on. In the Domes even Thralls can be educated in the schools of the Masters, eat better food, live in air conditioning during the summers, enjoy heat in the winters, wear beautiful clothes, and so much else. I realize some of this is advertising spin by the Masters, to get people to volunteer to be Thralls. But I felt that even if some of it were exaggerated it would still be worth it. On the Outside electricity is only on about half the time, and many other things are often miserable.
I'd been working toward being a Thrall for a while. I educated my mind, and I also trained my body so that I'd be strong, muscled, and pleasing in appearance. I was fortunate to be handsome. And to protect myself from diseases, even after turning 18 I avoided sex, knowing that this would be one of my duties in Nouveaux New York. Virgins are prized in the Thrall markets, where we are sold so that our parents can get the money and have better lives, even though still on the Outside.
A virus-war in the mid-21st century rendered most men today sterile, and unable to have children. This has caused a population crash for the last fifty years, bringing the population of the world down from ten billion to two billion, with the projected numbers still falling as far as the eye can see.
But I was one of the lucky ones, because my sperm are good. This is one of the main reasons Masters buy Thralls from Outside--so that we can get them pregnant, even though legally we aren't considered by the Masters to be the fathers of these Dome children.
Anyway, to become a Thrall I took classes on how to physically protect my future Masters, classes on how to cook for them, clean their houses, how to give them massages and other personal services, and even how to give them sexual pleasure, and hopefully impregnate them.
Sex ed for me was done one-on-one with our next-door neighbor in our run-down suburban neighborhood. Her name is Lisa. This was awkward, because I've known Lisa since I was a boy.
The youngest age one can be sold as a Thrall is on your 19th birthday, but starting at 18, if you volunteer for it, you can be trained in the ways of being a Thrall. But being shy I put off my sex ed classes as long as I could, until a week before I turned 19. My parents almost forced me out of our house one night, and made me walk over to Lisa's house to get my first lesson, which turned out to be my only one.
Lisa is in her early 40s and a widow. Her husband was killed by lawless bands long ago, and her only son was lost to disease a few years ago. Lisa is dark-haired and just starting to go grey. But she's curvy and pretty for her age. However, the idea of getting sex lessons from her was strange to say the least.
Lisa opened her door in a revealing bikini, and laughed at my reaction as I stared at her only halfway concealed breasts.
Smiling, she said, "Come on in, Riley. It's not subtle the way you're looking at me, but it definitely shows interest. Given how long you put this off I was wondering if maybe you were gay--which is fine, of course. Gay Thralls are in demand, and can sometimes even earn a premium for their parents. But the best Thrall is one who can please women, men, and all in between, including the non-binary."
She closed the door behind me, and said, as I blushed a bit, "Listen, Riles, you're almost out of time, and so we really need to jump right into this. Don't think of me as your next-door-neighbor and friend, think of me as your Master, or your Domina, as they often prefer to be called. So give me a compliment, and then let's just start real-life sexual role-playing in my bedroom."
I smiled gently as I talked, saying, "Greetings Domina. You're looking very beautiful today. How may I serve you? Would you like a drink, some food, or anything else?"
Lisa smiled, and said, "Thanks, Riley. But I want you to service me in my bedroom, and then you can make me some dinner."
"Yes, Domina," I said, but was unsure what I should do next.
Lisa sensed my nervousness, and took me by my hand and brought me back to her bedroom, which was medium-sized and nicely furnished.
Lisa had a twinkle in her eyes as she said, "Take off my bikini for me, Riles, and then...I want you to pleasure me with your tongue until I orgasm. I want you to lick my pussy, Riley."
"Yes, Domina," I said, but suddenly I was almost paralyzed.
I'd never even seen a woman naked between her legs in real life, only in pictures and porn videos.
Lisa said, "Riles, you need to sound really happy. You're about to see your Domina's nude body, which is a wonderful privilege for you."
I smiled and nodded, and said in a happier voice, "Yes, Domina. Thank you so much!"
I walked around behind her, and untied her bikini top, which was easy to do. But it didn't fall off entirely until I gently removed it and dropped it on the floor.
I then whispered in her right ear from behind, "May I kiss you on the lips, Domina? And may I kiss and caress your breasts?"
Here my reading of the sex scenes in several novels helped, and I felt pleased with my improvisation.
Lisa laughed in a surprisingly girlish way, and said, "Yes, Riles, you may kiss me, and all the rest too. That's good."
I moved around and then stared in wonder at her breasts, which were beautiful and looked very soft. They weren't perky, like almost certainly they had been two decades before, but they were alluring. The parts covered by her bikini were less tan, and her pinkish-brown nipples were erect.
I first kissed her soft lips slightly awkwardly and a little too quickly.
It looked like Lisa was going to give me pointers, but instead she just raised her eyebrows humorously and said, "Go ahead, Riley, keep going. Maybe later we can work on kissing."
Breathing slightly heavily I started gently caressing and feeling my neighbor's breasts, and as I did my manhood in my jeans started getting hard.