Date: Sun, 6 Mar 2022 22:04:52 +0000 (UTC)
From: ropingtop@aol.com
Subject: Future slave michael - installment 1  (authoritarian,  sci fi fantasy)

Raven turned on the monitor to "check inventory."  She wanted to make
sure all of "the boys" were behaving properly before Maximus came by that
evening.  She smiled as the cameras panned over each and every cell: her
inventory was in superb shape:  good quality and plenty of it.  It moved
quickly too.  She and her team took time to listen to what their
potential clients wanted, and could almost always succeed in finding it.
She could point to her success rate.  She had started her business in
2356.  After ten years, she could only recall one client who wanted his
money back.  While her policy was  "all sales final," they really
weren't.  Sometimes the "placement" was not ideal, and she would offer a
trade, and take back the original product.  And the one time that the
client was simply not to be satisfied, she took the captured warrior
back, returned the client's money and never did business with him again.
Later, she learned from some of her other business rivals that the guy
had done what he had done to her more than once.  Her best friend,
Lavinia, had said  "he's like a kid who gets tired of the new toy after
two weeks."  "Kids like that don't get new toys," was Raven's reply and
soon, said client was not welcome amongst the "traders," and had to
satisfy himself with the public markets, which did NOT permit trades.

Raven lived in Frilcus, a territory which had revoked the prohibitions on
slavery about 100 years before she became a trader.  No one expected that
the availability of slaves for sale would have become the booming
business it was.  Nor did anyone expect that the business would be
predominantly - over 95% - in male slaves.  The final surprise, except to
people like Raven, was that the majority of buyers, were also men. Raven
had started working in what was once called the "adult entertainment"
industry, and now was simply called  "Pleasure and Release."  She had
saved her money.  She bought her first slaves from the public markets,
and had bought them at cheap prices.  For a few years, she was known as a
"bottom feeder:"  she'd look for the merchandise that had been
unpurchased for the longest period of time, and she'd buy at a low
price.  The merchants were glad to sell to her:  they were rid of
merchandise they could not sell and, once you took on "Pleasure and
Release" merchandise, it was illegal to do anything with it other than
sell it.  Every two months, Raven would load her van with whatever she
had purchased over the last period and drive, perhaps 100 miles, to the
neighboring state of Herrix, where slavery was STILL illegal but where,
if you knew the right people, you could find a thriving market.  She
always came back ahead of where she started.

Soon, she had enough capital to buy a bigger storage facility.  She did
this a couple of times and now could house 35 different properties if she
didn't double the men up in the pens - something she was loathe to do
because of the fights for domination which always happened.  She had been
at capacity a few times, but that day, she had perhaps 30 properties
available.  Ten of them were new: her girls had been busy.  And one of
them...
But we will return to Michael shortly.  I wrote "her girls had been
busy."  Frilcus was a port, and the traffic of ships was huge.  Every
day, at least ten ships would dock, and crew members left to their own
devices, would fill the pleasure halls, looking for  - there were many
different words for it - or the bars, or any place else the stored,
frustrated energy of their last voyage could be dispersed.  EVERY single
ship warned the crew the same way:  "BE CAREFUL of whom you meet.  DO NOT
accept free drinks."  The list went on.  The list was so common that
Raven kept a copy of it framed on the wall of her office.  The young men
who came into Frilcus never paid attention and, inevitably, some paid the
price of a spiked drink, a girl with a friend, or something else.
Raven always chose her "girls" very carefully.  Some of them weren't even
"girls:"  these young men had various tastes, and when Raven sent out her
scouts, she made sure that the crowd was diverse.  It had suited her
well:  most of her "trophies" as she liked to call them (because she only
culled the finest) were younger men, but there were times when her scouts
would bring in men who were out of their twenties.  The oldest "capture"
she recalled having was a 62 year old man, who bore a stamp showing prior
ownership.  Raven, who preferred the company of older men, thought of
keeping him for herself.  That was until the notorious Widow Ramoza
offered her that huge purse for him.  Now, Samuel was kept as Widow
Ramoza's "pet."  you could see them walking through the streets of
Flicus, he, always  , and collared, his leash in the Widow's hand, the
bulge showing his locked cock visible through whatever she allowed him to
wear.  Raven sighed.  Sexually, she preferred whatever pleased her at the
moment.  Now, her bed partner was another woman - named Flora - who
understood that she could be sent packing at any time.  Flora wasn't
going anywhere though:  she was one of Raven's best hunter scouts, and
she had been responsible for bringing in Michael. Raven moved the camera
to Michael's cage.  She cracked a big smile.  For the two days he had
been with her, Michael hadn't stopped screaming to be freed.  He shook
the cages, he picked at his leg shackle and raged at the keepers who fed
him, washed him, and made sure he took sufficient exercise.  He was
screaming now:  a blast of profanity that even impressed Raven, who could
curse with the best of them.
Flora reported that it had taken no less than four spiked drinks, and
then a shot of paralysis drug to Michael's carotid artery to bring him
down.  When he felt woozy and saw Flora's smile, as she reported, he
looked at he and said "FUCK.  YOU GOT ME CUNT"  and passed out.  Flora
simply called her driver, and Finneas loaded Michael in the van with the
other 8 trophies the girls had picked up that night.  The ladies did NOT
travel with the merchandise.  Raven thought it better that they put
thoughts of their targets behind them as quickly as possible.  When they
went on raids, the ladies were expected to bag at least one, and perhaps
two, potential slaves per trip.  Raven had trained them all.  They knew
what they were doing.
Most of the men they had picked up that night had come from a country to
the north, one known for the beauty of their men, and their fierceness.
These were mostly new recruits, on their first (and now last) mission.
When Raven posted the announcement that she had new merchandise for
perusal,  including the origin of the men,the warehouse had been full for
hours.  Of the 9 trophies she had "acquired" that night, six had been
purchased almost immediately.  The customers who came in all seemed to
know that angry one:  Michael.  He was NOT a new recruit: most had seen
him in the city more than once, and some even reported trying to "rent"
him for a night, and to have suffered the consequences.  One of her
regular clients had remarked  "It's fitting that Michael is where he is,
yet I never thought it was possible.  Best of luck in finding one who can
control him."  As her customers looked at Michael wistfully, and moved
on, Raven realized that (i) she could command a premium price for this
one and (ii) his owner had to be experienced, and ready for a challenge.
That is why she had contacted Maximus.

Maximus was one of the wealthiest men in the country. He lived
luxuriously.  Yet, as he told Raven every time he came by to see if she
had "something interesting," he was lacking the "playmate" he wanted:  a
rough, strong, blond man, pale eyes, who would be a challenge to break,
and then a challenge to keep in his position.  Most of the men who filled
that description had survived attempts to bring them into the world of
trophies and prizes.  Raven was sure that there had been something else
operating when Flora brought Michael in, but now, it wasn't relevant.  He
was her property, and she thought she had a buyer.
She had opened up a three way connection with Maximus to introduce him to
Michael, only Michael didn't know he was being watched.  She saw as
Maximus' hand dropped below his torso on the screen and as his face
showed serious interest.
"He is indeed beautiful that one.  Michael. Yes, he has no last name.
That is how he is known in his country.  A heart breaker to both women
and men. Well endowed, and well trained in the arts of love as they say.
"  Then the negotiations began.
"As I'm sure you know, Raven, he will not be able to be placed very
easily.  You must give me a price less than your normally exorbitant
rates."
Raven had laughed.  She had already quoted a price that she thought was
very fair.  "Surely you know that we do not bargain very often here,
Maximus."
"And surely YOU know my dear, that you will not place that beast very
easily.  I can see you shaking your head at the expense accounts for
keeping him until another is interested. "
They had debated back and forth until they had agreed on a price.  IF
Maximus were satisfied that the merchandise described was as
advertised.
"Raven?  Maximus has arrived. He is being served food and wine right
now."
"EXCELLENT.  When he is sated, let me know.  Please have four - no - best
make it five - subjugators ready for Michael's presentation."  Raven
turned and went to her private chambers.  She called for her servant
wench, Bella, to get her the gown she knew Maximus adored.  His sister
had designed it:  white as snow, with golden piping at the collar, the
cuffs and the fringe, and the insignia of the family line, the death moth
on the back.  Raven was quite fond of the gown herself.  As Bella slipped
in on her, and Raven changed into her matching shoes, Bella stopped her.
"Missy, your hair, ah.  It needs just a bit of touching up."
"As you will Bella. You know best."
"Of feminine wiles, yes, you speak true, Miss.  I wouldst not challenge
you on aspects of business, however.  Now let me see those nails. "
Sighing, Raven held out her hands.
"MISSY.  You MUST stop chewing them.  At the least, please put on gloves
for the evening.  It will show you are completely hands off."
"Indeed it will.  I will try harder Bella."
"DO.  Else I will start putting that bitter draft you despise so much in
your colors. "
"Ha ha ha.  In some ways, you treat me as your child Bella."
"Ai.  and that is because you have treated my child so well, Missy."
Bella's daughter, Trixel, was another of Raven's hunter/scouts.  She was
still "green," but had potential to be as superb at her craft as Flora.

"Maximus, it is SO good to see you,"  she entered the lounge where she
entertained clients.  Maximus rose.
"None have ever done my sister's work as much justice as you do my dear.
You are ravishing tonight.  I fear that should you ever go back to
hunting, the country will be depleted of men for years.
"Ha ha.  You flatter me Maximus.  I am but a shell of what I was.  But
who of us isn't?"
"So true my dear.  So true.  I DO hope that this Michael is more than a
shell."
"Oh, I think you will find him quite ripe and quite full.  Both of
himself and...."

"LET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE BITCH.  NOW!!!!"
"I presume we're getting closer to Michael's quarters"  Maximus joked.
And then they were there.  He paused and sucked in his breath. The
materials he had seen, did not do this man justice.  His labors had
covered him in sweat, and his body gleamed.  His hair was long, but "we
can fix that" Maximus thought.  He saw how, in addition to the ankle
shackle, Raven had seen to it that Michael's sizeable penis had been
chained to a collar around his neck, meaning that his movement was
restricted, unless he wished to hurt those beautiful orbs hanging between
his legs.
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU YOU OLD FAGGOT?"  Michael pulled at the chain
around his ankle until it pulled him back.
"I am probably your new owner, Michael.  You may refer to me as Sir
Maximus."
"I REFER TO YOU AS SIR SHITSTAIN.  NO ONE OWNS ME.  NOT THAT BITCH, NOT
YOU, NO ONE."
"Shall we administer a calmative?"  Raven asked, and Maximus laughed.
"There is no need.  With one like this, he needs to learn, quickly, who
is in charge.  What I would ask is that you release the shackle, and
unchain his privates." Raven looked at Maximus, concerned
"MAXIMUS!  With all due respect, I know of your prowess,but..."  Maximus
dropped his tunic.
"Michael is about to learn what I expect.  Open the cage."
Hesitantly, Raven signaled to her subjugator to open the door.  Michael
made a run for it, screaming, and was met by a lower body block from
Maximus that knocked him back inside the cage.
"You want out, Michael?  All you need to do is get by me."  Maximus
smiled.  "I'm waiting.
"THAT WAS A SNEAKY, LUCKY SHOT YOU ASSHOLE.
AAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH"  He ran at Maximus who moved rapidly,
grabbing Michael's throat.  He squeezed and as the air left Michael's
body, he calmed down.  He began to choke.
"Now, you will do something for me Michael.  You will put your hands
behind your back."
"NNGGGNGGNGGNGGNGNGGN"  Michael tried to shake his head no. Maximus held
it too firmly, and he was too far away from Michael's body for Michael to
be able to do anything.  He found it harder and harder to breathe.
Finally, with a whimper, he put his hands where Maximus told him to.
"GOOD.  You are learning who is in charge."  He turned to the subjugator
who was there with a chain. "Thank you, but there is no need.  I have my
own. " Maximus removed his hand from Michael's neck and then his two
hands got to work, binding Michael's wrists.
"YOU FUCK.  YOU FUCK.  I WILL NEVER BE YOUR SLAVE. NEVER!!!!!"
"Oh, my, he IS loud.  Raven, I would ask for a gag for this one.
Preferably one of the penile type. "
"As you will Maximus."  He looked at it, smiled, and when Michael refused
to open his mouth, Maximus grabbed his orbs. One scream was all he needed
to put the gag in Michael.
"Now, you will not curse and scream like a crazed lunatic, and that is
going to be another lesson for you Michael because...."  With a sneer,
Maximus reached into his trousers, and pulled out a pair of clamps.
"You will be leaving here in pain, because you will have to learn to live
with pain.  Michael's eyes widened.  "NO. NOT CLAMPS FOR HIS NIPPLES!
 NO ONE was allowed to touch those.  They were.... he could be made
helpless with just a flick of a finger over one of them.  When
clamped....
"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH!!!!"  he moaned as Maximus atttached them.  And
his penis, out of his control, went rigid.
"Ho ho.  Very good information Michael.  Very good information."  Maximus
pulled the chain to the clamp taut, and started leading Michael out of
the cage.
"I never do this, Raven, but I will pay you your full asking price. I
anticipate that I will never have had the type of fun I am going to have
with this handsome man.  " He smiled.  "Flora brought him down? I will
see to a gift being sent to her tomorrow."  He turned to Michael.  "STEP
LIVELY MY PRIZE.  IT WILL HURT A BIT LESS IF YOU DO."  Raven thought she
saw a tear in Michael's left eye.  A man crying in pain made her hot, and
... Flora was in for it that night, as was Michael.
"A haircut is the first item on the agenda tomorrow Michael.  The final
agenda tonight... will be acquainting you with the major facets of your
duties as my new... treasure. "  Maximus howled.
The next day, the steward of Raven's house announced that there was a
special delivery for Flora.  Raven released her grip on Flora's hair, and
told her to hurry back.  When she heard Flora's squeals, Raven went to
see. Her hands were on her hips, as she shook her head and chuckled
lightly.
Baby unicorns.  Gold in color.  There was one waiting outside the
warehouse.  It bore a golden and yellow ribbon.  "With gratitude to the
best hunter in the country."
As Flora was stroking her new pet, Michael was strapped down in a chair,
his wrists sealed tightly to each arm.  His penis, in a ball stretcher,
was sore from the teasing it had received the night before.  It was not
as sore, however, as his nipples, or his ass.
"Cut it so that it has aspects of this photo."  Maximus produced a long
cherished antique:  an autographed photo of an actor, long deceased, with
short, spiky blond hair.
"It will suit him well, Master Maximus," spoke the barber, as he took the
shears to Michael's long, dirty hair.  He was still gagged, but all could
hear the sobs coming out of his mouth.