In a society that otherwise resembles our own, mass slavery has persisted into the 21st Century. It is a common and accepted feature of public and private life. Males and females of all ethnic backgrounds are held thrall, without status or legal rights. They are quite literally living property, and may be bought, sold and used for any purpose, including: hard labor, breeding, menial work and sexual servitude.
This series of stories, which is not presented in any particular order, explores the daily life of a prostitute-slave named Sara. Purchased at auction by a Las Vegas casino, she is tasked with fulfilling the sexual urges of its clientèle, who pay for her favors along with room service and Wi-Fi access. Subject to their every whim, she has known both anguish and delight, but most often casual exploitation.
When she is not engaged by a guest, Sara must contend with capricious and underpaid corporate overseers and occasionally vicious slave stable politics.
***
When Sara stepped naked into the cosmetics station after her shower, she had expected to be alone. A high-rolling couple had held her over almost until evening, so her blind booking with a single male guest that night had been canceled. She was replaced with another slut and told to prepare herself for a display assignment instead.
The rest of the stable had washed and applied their cosmetics hours ago, so Sara was able to enjoy a warm, leisurely shower and thought she would have the long mirror and brilliant lights of the make-up counter all to herself.
She did not.
A tall slut with long, blond hair stood at the far end of the counter, applying mascara. Her call name was Jessica, and she was easy to hate. Even among a stable of sluts specifically bred and selected for their sex appeal, she was strikingly beautiful. She had a radiant smile, long legs, flawless skin and impossibly firm C-cup breasts. House Master Turner once told Sara that Jessica had received a 9.9 on her Moore-Fordham assessment -- the highest possible score.
Sara could not ever recall having seen Jessica bruised or bleeding. She seemed to effortlessly avoid being disgraced or humiliated. Between her legs, she was allowed to maintain a small, neatly trimmed patch of public hair. Sara envied every follicle. She would sometimes imagine that she was allowed to grow out her own, dark pubes. She thought it would make her look more like a woman -- not a slut, not fuck-meat -- and then maybe guests would abuse her less.
In spite of all that, Sara did not hate Jessica -- she admired her. Jessica was friendly and kind, and whatever the source of her mysterious immunity, she never used it to disadvantage another slut. Indeed, Sara had seen her try to protect other girls.
She walked towards Jessica, but stopped a few places short, not wanting to disturb her if she preferred her time alone.
"It is nice to see Sara," Jessica smiled, continuing her work.
"This slave is happy to see Jessica," Sara replied, a little giddy to be recognized, as she began dusting her face with foundation.
"Has Sara been photographed in the last few days?"
The question caught Sara off guard. She had been photographed -- and it was different from the regular updates for the Helios website. It had been an uncomfortable experience. Shadowy figures stood at the back of the room, whispering among themselves while Sara flaunted her body for the camera. However, nothing had happened since and she had already begun to forget about it.
"Yes, she was."
Jessica nodded.
"A lot of the best girls have been," she said. "This slave knows seven for sure, including herself and Sara."
The sinister implications of that statement were lost on Sara, who was overcome with joy at being counted among the 'best girls' by Jessica. Although she routinely received excellent performance evaluations, she felt awkward and alone among the other sluts, sensing that they resented her.
"Yes... What?" Sara stumbled, embarrassed that she did not actually grasp what Jessica was trying to tell her.
"All of the best girls are being photographed," Jessica repeated, unperturbed. "This slave has heard that they will be used for some kind of special tasking."
Sara's emotions swung from elation to fear: special tasking never meant less pain.
"What special tasking?"
"This slave doesn't know," said Jessica, finishing her make-up.
She turned and smiled at Sara.
"If Sara was a guest, would this slave be pleasing to her?"
Sara turned and looked at her. She could not imagine a more beautiful woman.
"If this slave was a guest, she would buy Jessica from the house and keep her all for herself. She would have three bucks in her stable tasked with making Jessica happy."
Jessica blushed.
"This slave hopes that Sara would take her pleasure from the bucks, too," she said.
"No, they would only service Jessica. Sara would have five more bucks all for herself!"
The slaves laughed together.
***
Along with ten other house girls, Jessica and Sara knelt under bright lights at the front of a posh guest lounge. House Master Crawford patrolled up and down the line of identically dressed sluts, clutching a prod, while House Master Davis and House Mistress Ballard stood nearby, watching. Davis pulled a phone out of his pocket and looked at it.
Her eyes trained at the floor, Sara heard the double doors leading into the room swing open, and several people enter. In her peripheral vision, she could see the overseers visibly stiffen. Crawford stepped away.
"Eyes up, sluts!" said a woman's voice.
Sara and the other girls raised their heads. A well-dressed woman wearing a pearl necklace with a tailored skirt and jacket stood over them.
"My name is Rebecca Endecott. I manage the Intimate Services Stables here at Helios. The house has been given a great opportunity -- we will be featured on six upcoming episodes of 'The Real Sluts of Las Vegas.'
"The show's producers have looked over all of the girls in our stables, and they have chosen the twelve of you for a closer look. From here, you will be taken one at a time for them to examine further. They will ask you questions and have you perform certain tasks.
"Six of you will be selected to appear on the show. Those of you who are not selected will be taken down to Sub-Level 9 and a correction will be provided for you."
"That is all. Eyes down, sluts!"
She handed a tablet to one of the overseers.
"House Master Davis, you may begin," she said.
Davis glanced down at the tablet.
"Okay, 0748 -- Alicia, up!" he barked.
Alicia gracefully lifted herself off the floor and followed him out through the double doors. Fear was already gnawing on Sara's guts. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, but it wasn't enough. Her heart started beating faster.
