I have heard so many people complain about my salary when I was working. The fact that our pension fund was able to buy not one but two planets made every politician in five systems read the riot act. I said it when I was working and I say it now. We earned every cent. Its not easy piloting those star ships. You try crawling into the command center of one. Your brain is literally hooked into the mainframe and you get no sleep for weeks at a time as your ship travels from point A to point B. It is a hard and dangerous life. The astronauts of the Twentieth and Twenty first century had it easy compared to us members of the Brotherhood of Interstellar Pilots.
Yes the pay seems exorbitant to someone in the passenger section of a liner but consider this. Seven out of ten pilots have at least three mental breakdowns from the stress of the job. One errant thought could send your liner into a black hole or a distant sun. I spent most of my trips as a pilot babysitting my co-pilots, keeping them focused and on task. Most of us have years taken off our lives from our service. When you look at it like that you realize how difficult our lives our. But I'm not complaining. I signed up for the adventure, discipline, and yes the paycheck.
The Brotherhood gets most our paycheck and they manage it very well. It is the richest pension plan in the history of mankind. Of course we were going to buy planets with it. We put up with regulation and control our whole lives. As our own bosses on our own planet we can we can live like we always wanted to. It makes recruitment much easier these days. For a retirement like this the bullshit we endure for twenty years is worth it.
The male pilots bought this one Harrison, the female pilots retire to Jolene. It really should come as no surprise that Harrison looks a lot like Las Vegas. There are also quiet spots for the guys who like sea coasts or communing with nature but the big casino in Harrison City is actually a nice investment. It attracts high rollers from all of the systems. There is no limit and the card games can get quite interesting. It was in the casino that I encountered Paul Mitchell and his slave whom he called Felicia.
Oh you are from one of those "progressive" worlds. Listen slavery solves a great deal of problems. Over your head in debt? Pay your creditors with 10 years of servitude. Its a way out of bone crushing poverty for some and there are folks who are totally fulfilled through the submission of servitude. The institution has made progress. It is NOT what you read in history books.
Anyway I saw Mitchell at the poker table in the grand casino. I recognized him from his many pictures in the gambling periodicals. In retirement I have become the best cardsharp on the planet. Its not that different from piloting a space liner. In a job were the wrong facial expression could send your ship thousands of kilometers off course, pilots develop a natural poker face. Most folks learn to not play us more than once. Paul Mitchell had built up a reputation as the finest gambler on five systems. Like all high rollers he ended up in Harrison city to prove that he was as good as his own reputation would have him believe. But what really caught my eye was the slave he had in tow
She was a stunner, 1.65 meters tall, long brown hair that fell to the middle of her back, long shapely legs, she could not have weighed more than 49.90 kilos. Her face and skin were reminiscent of a porcelain doll. Her eyes were crystal blue and her laugh was melodic.
Aside from the collar around her neck I did not like the way she was dressed. A slave like that should have her body on display. Mitchell however, dressed her like a nun. She wore a white shoulder baring dress that covered her from just above her bust to just above her knees. The bodice was tight but that was the only concession to her form. She was wearing jewellery and simple shoes, two things considered gauche on the part of a slave owner. Slaves should be simply and provocatively dressed. There only adornment should be their collar. I could tell just by looking at her and how Mitchell deferred to her that Felicia was in charge of the relationship. That bothered me. It was at that moment that I decided that I would win her from Mitchell. Both master and slave deserved a chastening.
I made my way to the table and came up with the entry fee. The rest was easy. As the game progressed I was able to probe Mitchell. He was a skilled player, no question about that. However, he seemed to be caught off guard by the abilities of the retired pilots around the table. Apparently he had dismissed the tales of our poker prowess as so much braggadocio. He was forced to be more conservative in his betting than he had first intended. I lost some hands on purpose to lull him off guard as to my talents. Once Mitchell adjusted his game he and I cleaned out the rest of the table. In the end it was just the two of us and the dealer. Not to mention of course the considerable crowd which had gathered to watch.
Mitchell was talented no doubt about that. I was better. After three hours the pile of chips that had resided on his side of the table had migrated to my side. I knew that Mitchell was in too deep to quit when I lowered the boom.
"Tell you what Mitchell. Lets play for possession of that slave of yours. If you do that I'll return to you all of this luscious cash I have won. I currently don't have a slave but now I have a desire for one."
Mitchell flashed his unctuous smile and said.
"I'll win it all back and I'll keep Felicia she's my good luck charm,"
Ten hands later and the very last chip Mitchell owned was now my property
"How are you going to get home Mitchell? I've got your last farthing. This place does not spot gamblers chips so how are you going to get another game up? Here's the deal. One hand for possession of your slave. Winner gets the girl. Loser gets all the cash.
I had Mitchell between a rock and a hard place. Because he misjudged my abilities he had over bet and lost his entire stake. His only asset left was his slave. The money was his only salvation. I had to hope that his love for cash was greater than his love for his slave. One did not want to be penniless on Harrison. We have rather tough vagrancy laws. The cashless are incarcerated and sent off world. The only exceptions are pensioners and slaves. For Mitchell the embarrassment of being deported would ruin his reputation. In the end he valued his reputation more than he valued Felicia.
Mitchell agreed to my terms and I heard Felicia gasp.
The last hand was one of the most miraculous of life, a royal flush.
Mitchell was crestfallen and Felicia began weeping. Mitchell perked up a bit when he saw the chips pushed to his side of the table. He had made more tonight than he probably had on his last three worlds. I suppose that was some sort of consolation.
The slave smith was summoned. (The casino keeps one on staff). He came forward with the registry key and attached it to Felicia's collar. She was crying copious tears by now. I pressed my thumbprint into the registry key and it took a scan of my retinas. That was all there was to it. The registry key transmitted a signal to slave central transferring ownership of Felicia to me and terminating Mitchell's possession.
I strode up to Felicia and said. "Come slave."
The girl got a hold of herself and asked "Can I at least kiss my master goodbye?"
"I am your master. Mitchell has no claim on you. He is no longer your master He does not merit a kiss from you. Now come."
Mitchell looked very sad and quite wistful as I led his good luck charm out of the casino. A few moments later we were in a cab headed for my house. I began to inform her of her new life.
"You will call me Master, You no longer have a name. The name Mitchell gave you is not one you will not be permitted to keep. I will rename you in week or two, until then you will respond to slave or woman. The clothing that you wear belongs to Mitchell. Legally I MUST return it to him. That was not done in the casino strictly for your benefit and the benefit of your old master. I am under no obligation to clothe you although public nudity of slaves is frowned upon. It is not however illegal. You may speak only when spoken to or in answer to your master's questions. Legally I could punish you for speaking out of turn in the casino. Is there anything you want to say?"
My slave sniffed and choked back her sobs.
"Please be gentle with me master. Please do not expose me to the world. For as long as I have been a slave only my master has seen my naked form and I have been a slave for a long time."
"Woman those rules went with your old life. Mitchell has spoiled you and allowed you to behave in a way that is unbecoming for a slave. I will be retraining you part of that retraining WILL include sharing you with my friends."
My slave began a new round of tears
Presently the cab pulled up in front of my house. I grasped my slave's collar and led her into my living room. My house is not large. I don't need a big place I like the single life to much to have ever married there are five rooms. Two bedrooms with attached full bathrooms, a living room, a dining room and a kitchen, There is also an attic and a basement.
"Now slave," I said after I turned the lights on, "I am going to strip you now. Your clothing and jewellery will be boxed up and returned to Mitchell. After that I will be bathing you. You are not permitted to dress yourself or undress yourself. You may not bathe yourself nor relieve yourself without permission."
I bent down and took off each of her shoes in turn. I discovered that her toenails as well as her fingernails had been coated with white lacquer. I could not believe the luxuries Mitchell permitted her. On Harrison only free women could paint their nails. I would replace the shoes with some simple sandals as usual for a slave.
Mitchell had allowed her to wear a ring and a bracelet. She was loathe to give them up but she allowed me to remove them. From each lobe I removed a total of four gold studs. I gathered a box from the living rom and placed in her shoes and jewellery. It was time for the final unveiling. I stood behind her and unzipped the dress. I was astounded to discover underwear! Mitchell had made a wife out of his slave! The dress fell to the floor and I had her step out of it. Her legs were fabulous, long and shapely all the way up to her ass. I unhooked the white lacy bra and saw her amazing breasts emerge into the light. Her tits were fantastic. Neither too large or too small they were mounted with light brown areola and sharp pink nipples. Last of all I slid off her white panties. Mitchell had allowed her to keep her bush. It was sparsely thatched but it should not have been there at all. Slaves are normally kept hairless. The fact that Mitchell had allowed her to keep hers showed how much control she had over the relationship.
