Serving in the Vso

I'm the sort of person the Voluntary Servitude Act of 2154 was designed to help. I built up an insurmountable debt with college loans and some bad investments. The financial panic of two years ago meant that those who were holding my debt called in my loans. I was gainfully employed but at nowhere near the level I needed to be. Before long my wages were being attached. Even giving up my apartment and moving in with a group of girlfriends was not enough to keep my head above water.

The transit strike was the last straw. With no easy way to get to work, I soon ran out of vacation time and built up a string of unexcused absences. The transit strike cost me my job and I was soon out of options. The Voluntary Servitude Office offered a way out. In exchange for a term of service my debt would be expunged and, at the end of my service, I would be given a nice, interest free loan to get back on my feet and reintegrate into civilian life.

For guys, Voluntary Servitude usually meant manual labor or factory work. For women like me it usually resulted in uncompensated prostitution. I could just as easily end up in a factory or store but terms of service were shorter for sex workers and your loan at the end of your enlistment was larger. Gay and bisexual men could spend their time of service as the male equivalent.

There were supposed safeguards in this modern slavery. I could work only a fixed number of hours I could not be mistreated and would have to be fed well and have access to first class medical services if needed. The amendment necessary to pass the law had been highly controversial. Only in the old states of the Confederacy did the amendment pass easily. Big business heavily favored it and enough palms were greased and (rumor had it) enough elections were fixed to bring about their desire.

It was hard to argue with the results. Factories manned by slave labor caused the economy to boom. Crimes like human sex trafficking virtually disappeared. Voluntary Service Police and federal marshals made sure that there were no abuses and an entire shadow economy dedicated to providing the accouterments to slavery sprang up. Some human rights organizations continued to campaign for the elimination of slavery but they were rapidly losing ground in the face of unparalleled industrial growth.

There was a "buy American" element to the new slavery movement,. Industries that had fled the United States generations ago returned to American shores. American slaves tended to be educated and trainable, a highly desirable combination for the industrialists. Nowadays everything from i-pads to safety pins are manufactured in the United States, more often then not stamped proudly with a small American flag.

While not enthusiastic about the prospect of being a slave for five or six years, it did give me the prospect of three square meals a day and comfortable housing, two things I was severely lacking. I talked it over with my friends and a free councilor at my local VS Office. I soon realized that with no prospects and my job dismissal attached to my resume like a scarlet letter, conventional employment was an iffy thing indeed. I signed the forms and was given a date to report to my local induction center. I had a two week window to void the agreement but those two weeks turned out to be the worst I had ever had. The house I was living in had a fire. Everyone was rescued but I lost nearly all of my possessions. The rest of the two weeks seemed like and endless string of one misfortune after another.I actually began to look forward to slavery.

The night before my enlistment my friends took my out for a night on the town. We watched male strippers and then hit another bar to get laid. My friends pointed out that I would not be permitted to say no to sex for at least five years. I should take advantage of my last night to have sex on my terms.

I found a really cute guy but we got so drunk he could not perform. Despite all my drunken entreaties he remained flaccid but extremely apologetic. I wanted to be penetrated that last night of freedom but all I got was some drunken and eminently forgettable cunnilingus. I was disappointed and hung over when my friends dropped me of at the induction center. My physical queasiness exactly matched my melancholy mood.

I looked at the other women waiting in line. The variety was surprising, there were middle aged widows who had fallen on hard times. There were a few younger than me who had buried themselves in credit card debt and were now trading their service to erase it. They seemed to be every body type as well. "Slavery was the great equalizer" was not just a slogan of the VSO but a fact that helped sell the program in the first place. The only limits on who could be enslaved were age based. No one over 55 and no one under 21.

In the first room our fingerprints were taken and our irises scanned. We each had a number assigned to us and that quickly we lost our names. Temporarily the number was written on the back of our left hand. We were expected to remember the twelve digit number quickly and respond to it as it was now our "name".

In the next room we were each issued a small metal cylinder with a locking door. Every article we had on us we put into the cylinder. The lock sealed with our thumbprint and a laser which quickly scanned our eyes. We would be able to reclaim our possessions when out term of service was over. I felt sorry for the middle aged widow next to me. Her eyes were full of tears as she slid off her wedding ring and engagement ring. Apparently they had never left her finger since her wedding day..

All of us had been naked before women before but this was very different. We were about to be appraised like sides of meat and then sent to our respective training camps. The older women would be trained for commercial or factory work and would receive seven year terms of service. Young attractive women like myself would be sent to sex camps and would get five year terms of service.

We had all been given thorough physicals and measured every way imaginable when we had enlisted. We were given brief examinations to make sure there had been no changes in our health and weight or other measurements All of that data vanished into computer logs.

Our next stop was the shower room where we would be bathed, shaved, and our hair bobbed. I felt intense agitation as several inches of my long blonde hair tumbled into the collection bins on the floor. I would miss those locks but they interfered with the collar I would be required to wear at all times so hair length on slaves was strictly regimented. I was glad that I was not a man however, They emerged from the shower room as bald as billiard balls.

The female attendants wore bathing suits and rank insignia, each one was responsible for three inductees. She shepherded myself, the older but pretty widow, and a plump woman in her late twenties to a group of shower heads along one wall. We were issued nasty smelling anti fungal and disinfecting soap and ordered to wash ourselves head to toe. Our attendant barked at us and made sure that we washed or vaginas and assholes thoroughly.

The next room was actually kind of fun. Giant fans under the floor dried us all in record time. From here we matched single file to what the attendant called the shearing station. Above a hopper two women waited. One ran a shaving razor over our pussies underarms and entire bodies and the other measured and cut our hair simultaneously. Apparently the hair was later used in some industrial process. I felt very strange with a bald pussy. I know it was a fashion amongst some ancient cultures and was in vogue around the turn of the twenty first century, but I had been very proud of my bush ever since I started sprouting it at age twelve. It looked and felt alien.

I had to admit my knees were weak as I left this room. Immediately after our shearing two attendants affixed our collars. My retinas were scanned once more and then I had to stand very still as a laser etched my number into my collar. If you moved and blurred the numbers you were threatened with punishment. The smell of burning metal is now seared in my consciousness like a host of other memories both pleasant and unpleasant.

Were were assembled as a group once more. What an odd lot we must have seemed. Fifty depilated women, tugging at their unaccustomed collars. The widow was next to me looking at her collar in a mirror, I could not help but thinking she had exchanged one ring for another.

A male VSO officer in a very sharp uniform entered the room and ordered us to stand at attention. He eyed each of us in turn. I thought him not a bad looking middle aged man. Some of us were red with embarrassment in his presence.

"Ladies," he announced. "You are now the property of the Voluntary Service Organization for at least the next five years. I am commander of this induction facility. Up to now those processing you have been female. That will now change. The FIRST thing you ladies must learn is that modesty no longer has any place in your life. Modesty is your enemy. Some of you will be kept naked for long hours of service. The sooner you reconcile yourself to the fact that EVERY millimeter of your bodies is now public property and open to inspection at ANY time the faster you will adjust to your new lives."

"As to what happens to you now. In the next room you will receive your inoculation boosters and the nanobots regulating your fertility will be injected. What that means in simple terms is that for as long as your service lasts you can neither get pregnant nor menstruate, In that way your sex organs are available for use at all times. Do not worry, your future fertility will NOT be compromised.

After your injections you will each be assessed. Where you end up is entirely in the appraiser's hands.Post assessment you will be sent to your two week training camp. After training you will be sent to where ever there is the most need for your services. It COULD be Honolulu. Just as easily it COULD be Nome, Alaska. What you want and desire makes no difference. You goals now in life are very simple. Be obedient and be eager to please. Recalcitrant slaves receive punishment and or extensions of their terms of service. We call those slaves "dead-enders." Don't be a dead-ender ladies. Good Day!"

With that the door at the far end of the room opened and we waited while our numbers were called. Some of us already had our numbers memorized, others were nervously reading their left hands hoping that their brains would get with the program. I was a bout the fifth or sixth called. The next room was white and sterile. I found myself on a raised walkway. I was injected. The shots made me fell a bit lightheaded for a moment, I still had a headache from my hangover. At least they did not magnify that. I passed through a string of men and women. They had readouts about me on their phones as I passed they inspected my privates, my ass, my teeth, eyes and skin. I had to answer questions from the routine to the bizarre. It turned out to be some kind of intelligence and personality test. After about an hour on line I came to the end of the inspection. Apparently I had a high score. As I stepped off the walkway A male VSO officer greeted me,

"123397521488 you have been selected by Camp Succubus for sexual training, Congratulations. Your term of service ends five years to the day from this moment. Please follow the designated officers to your holding room. You are going to get a meal and some beverages. At the end of the day you and the rest of those also selected by Camp Succubus will be transported to the camp, which is on the Gulf coast of Mississippi."

The room slowly filled with women. All of them seemed more beautiful than me. We eyed each other warily. Surprisingly there was not a lot of small talk. There were couches for resting a bathroom and a small cafeteria with excellent food. To my surprise, as well as hers the widow soon joined our numbers. We chatted a while.

"I'm surprised I ended up here. I thought that I would be assigned office or retail work for seven years. This is two years shorter. They said there was "a need for older fetching females." I'm not sure if I'm the courtesan type however."

I replied, "Oh it can't be THAT bad. We get to fuck all day. I'm sure that every job has its downsides but personally I like cock. There isn't too much lesbian in me but, I'm not a I'm not averse to pleasing women. You were married so you already know how to keep a man interested for years. Perhaps some wealthy older man will take you under his wing; or perhaps a younger man will take a shine to you."

We chatted a bit more she told me that in her old life she had been named Amy. She was not quite middle aged, she was thirty five. Ancient history compared to twenty four year old me. Even so I admired how she was put together. I could see a lot of men and women desiring her.She stood out amongst us like an enchanting alternative. Here marriage had been happy, with its only disappointing aspect that she and her husband were childless. Tom, her husband, was afflicted with a rare and fast moving form of cancer. Their medical bills had been completely covered and Amy had been left with a nice inheritance and her husband's business. Amy did not possess her husband's business acumen however, before she could get a handle on things she had run up a mountain of debt, lost the business and the house they had owned. She had been living in her car for a time before she entered the VSO. "I KNOW I won't make a hash of things a second time." she told me sadly.

At the end of a very long day sixty of us were issued white miniskirts, matching halter tops, and sandals and marched out in to the now dark alley behind the induction center. A fleet of electric vans arrived to whisk us off to the airport. I realized now in a way that had only been academic before that I would not see my hometown or friends again for five years. A lot of us began crying softly.

The flight was uneventful. It was a commercial airliner chartered to carry us. It would be making three stops. First a group of sixty women to be trained as clerks and data processors, dressed in blue versions of our attire would be getting off in Chicago. Another sixty, factory workers, nurses aides and tutors, dressed in red would be leaving the plane at Nashville. Our anticipation and trepidation mounted each time the plane landed and partially emptied. At last we were at our destination.

The humid air hit us as soon as the doors to the plane opened. Camp Succubus had its own private section at the Gulfport airport. We entered our lounge and met our instructors. As we ate the women circulated, memorizing our numbers and appraising us with their eyes. They were attractive but older women. We were led to understand that some of our instructors had been sex workers who became instructors after their terms of service had ended. Now as a "Madame" (which is what we had to call each one) they earned good money and enjoyed teaching the new arrivals the ropes. We could not help but notice that most of these women had lovely jewels about their necks and impressive gems on rings upon their fingers, obviously gifts from admirers.

The bus ride to the camp was longer than I expected We arrived well after midnight, despite that, reveille was at seven A.M. Our clothing was confiscated and each of us was assigned a bunk in a dormitory set aside for our class. To my delight, Amy, the widow, was assigned to the bed under me. Naked we slept between the sheets. Fortunately our dormitory was air conditioned and the beds were quite comfortable..

At seven the next morning we were brought bleary eyed to our feet herded into a communal shower and then led dripping wet to a cafeteria where a simple breakfast awaited. After breakfast we were led to the gym. We were given a pair of tiny briefs and a sports bra, (one size fits all) and compelled to perform an hour of spinning followed by forty five minuets of yoga. I thought I was in shape but I was completely winded early. Amy, on the other hand, had no major problems only falling behind in the yoga exercises once. Our exercise session over we stripped down and were given a half hour rest and then led to a class room.

The Madame instructing us was approaching sixty but she looked a good decade or so younger. She began speaking,

"In a few days we will be working with live models. Until then you will learn theory and what is expected of you. You no longer have the right to your own body, that said, no one may physically compel you to have sex. It tends to be men that forget to behave as gentlemen and try to take what you would gladly give if properly asked and just as importantly for the company, properly compensated. Attitude is also important. Even if you don't feel up to it you should be solicitous and genial at all times. You may be rented out for days or weeks at a time. We will cover that and other issues over the next coming days and weeks. Yes, there will be both a written and an oral exam to test that each of you has properly absorbed this information. There will also be an oral exam when we get around to live models." With that the Madame laughed at her own joke and plunged into the lesson. We groaned but tried to pay attention.

The food was very good. The Madames were careful about not letting us over eat. We no longer owned our bodies, even our weight was now the property of the VSO. I wanted to eat more but was denied an extra helping. We were kept busy all day. When not in the classroom, the gym, or dining we had to keep our dormitory clean. It had to be spotless or we were not permitted to turn in.

I seemed to hit my stride when the live models entered the classroom. The guys were almost uniformly ordinary. "True hunks are few and far between, your enthusiasm should make every man feel like an adonis no matter how homely he is." Explained out Madame. The dicks varied in size from small to average, one guy was hung like a horse, another guy's tool was buried under flab. Their personal hygiene varied as well. I thought I would gag when I had to suck off this huge greasy guy. He stank of BO and had a tiny tool. I wished that I could breath through my ears as I serviced him. At least I only had to suck him off. I could not imagine being under him and seeing all that flab alive with the passion of coitus. We had to treat these guys like they looked like movie stars.

I was better a fellatio than Amy, sorry, 66790235721, was at first but she rapidly caught up. We were also trained for anal intercourse and instructed in a vast array of toys. Despite not being overly fond of pussy I dined with gusto when it was presented to me.

The women were a mix of body types as well from hefty to slim. We had to respond to them like we were being turned on. Amy had hidden talents when it came to licking pussy. All of this seemed to come naturally to her. I did a very good job at eating pussy considering how much I ordinarily didn't like sea food. My grades after the first week were near the top of the class. Virtually tied with me was Amy.

We learned a baker's dozen of standard position, either being on top on on the bottom, with strap on or without. I really enjoyed getting fucked by some of the guys, but then I have always liked dick, There was this one guy ... he was the best lay I had had in years! I found that I liked being pegged by both males and females. I also enjoyed pegging, especially guys. Men are so meek and pretty when you take charge and fuck them up the ass. We were taught to take dominant and submissive roles, I really took to domination however. I gave more than a passing thought to becoming a professional dominatrix when my time in the VSO concluded. I LOVED toying with men.