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Story

The Slave Daycare – Part 02

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By Taurus

Note: To start at the very beginning of this story, click here.

Chapter 12 – The Operative

The daycare had no scheduled visitors today, but Frank and his slaves still dutifully went to work even if everyone else was allowed to stay home. However, where Frank toiled at his computer, the slaves had quite a lot of leisure time to waste.

“Why are you still here?”

Frank knew the answer to his question that the slaves would elect to answer with silence; his slaves were far too hardworking to allow themselves rest.

And so he would tell them to.

“Go to the common area, play and have fun, or else.”

“Or else?”

“Or else I’ll make you wear clothes.”

A gasp.

“That are one size too small.”

Thoroughly terrified by the thought of clothing, the slaves slinked out of sight as fast as they could manage.

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Story

Beguiled – Part 1

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By ty dehner

author ty dehnerIn the darkness, anxious breathing echoes in the small space. There is certainly a person in his space, helpless. The echo of breathing is broken with the sound of steel sliding on the edge of more metal as a solid, shiny sword slowly enters this container. At first, it proceeds slowly, then settles into place with a strong shove that makes this captive person sigh with relief that they have not been impaled by this sharp weapon. A muffled crowd sound is heard inside the container as the sword sets.

This person adjusts themselves in the tight confines of this container. A sliver of light comes through a different slot on the other side. The eyes of a man turn towards that slot, hoping to catch a view out of his confinement. But he sees very little, as another sword is inserted slowly, sliding close to his chest. The captive draws in his breath to move his chest out of the way.

A hand in a leather gauntlet holds the sword’s handle that has just been inserted, giving it one hard push to set it in place. There is an auditable gasp as the gloved hand releases the sword. The mysterious figure, all in black, lifts his head to his audience with a mischievous grin curling upon his lips.

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Story

Three Slaves – Part 01

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By Practicerestraint

Note:  the change between pronouns (he/it/his/its) reflects the state of mind of the master and/or slave at that moment in the account.

Chapter 1

The first slave was taken to a mine. His irons and collar were removed, but a ten-pound collar was locked around his neck. He would be fitted with the equivalent of an Organ boot: a weight around his ankle that would prevent him from running. In the mines, the collar would be chained to a ring near the slave’s work spot and his leg iron removed. The iron would go on again when the slaves were rotated out to be fed and watered and rested. At night, lucky slaves could have their heavy collars removed if they offered the guards their bodies.

The slave dealer herded the two remaining slaves into the back of the van. Leg irons, run through rings welded to the floor of the van, were attached quickly and the doors slammed on the cargo.

Hours later, the van arrived at a rural location. The driver was met by a tall man in a sheriff’s uniform. The two men talked briefly, exchanged envelopes, and then the dealer opened the door. He unshackled one slave’s feet, neck, and wrists. The slave gave no thought to escape, particularly since the sheriff held a taser.

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Story

Island Paradise – Part 2: Chapter 14

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By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 14: A Brief Introduction to Our Personnel Policies

And fuck!  There I was!  The total package!  Brown boots, brown shorts, brown shirt, brown cap—an SLP servant from head to foot!  I’d like to say, “I didn’t even recognize myself,” but too bad, I’d need to change that to “almost didn’t”!  Still—HUGE change, even from the way I was, back at my brief visit to Patrick’s browns.  I’d been putting on some weight, I mean muscle, but most of it was attitude.  That  SLP on my chest was yelling “watch out for this dude!”  And of course the collar—“this bad boy needs to be collared!”  SO cool!  I couldn’t stop repeating: I’ll be in SLP gear for the rest of my life!  It wasn’t one of those remakes that happen when you visit the mall and decide to get with the trends.  What I saw in the mirror was me–the permanent me.

I put my hands on my hips and turned this way and that way, raising my arms and flexing my muscles like you see dudes doin on Mashbook or whatever, just likin what I saw.  I grabbed the brim of my cap and pulled it off, wondering what I’d look like without it.  Still good!  I mean, who is this tough guy with the bald bald skull?  Can it be Slappie Number 24250, the former Joel Barlow?  Wow!  It definitely changes you!  But I think I liked it better when I was wearing my cap.  I liked the all-brown look.

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Story

Island Paradise – Part 1: Chapter 23

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By Joshua Ryan

Chapter 23: Your Next Career Move

I don’t know how many times I got punished during the next few months—so many times that I felt incomplete, at the end of the day, if I hadn’t been slapped around or casually put across the knee of a waiter to get my butt spanked.  They loved to do that.  And it was true—I was a bad busboy.  I was surly.  I stumbled.  I broke things.  Like any other servant, I deserved to be punished.

Then one morning I was lined up with the other slaps to spend 12 more hours pulling dirty plates into the kitchen, when Dev caught me by the arm and said, “Not you. You been sold.”

“Sold?”

“Yeah, I know, mon.  Who’d wanta buy you?  But the truck is comin.”

So that’s it, I thought.  The fields.  The fields where I’ll spend the rest of my life chopping dirt.

“Report to Boss Derek’s desk,” he said, with no attempt at the usual camp.  “Good luck, mon.”  You’ve really fucked up, I thought, when Dev wishes you good luck.

I shuffled to the desk, and there was Boss Derek, looking angry that he had to spend time dealing with me.  “Bend down,” he said, and he took the King George dog tag off my collar and did something with his laptop to unlimit my distances.  It was like being drummed out of the Foreign Legion.  Then he said something weird.  “You don’t know how lucky you are, slappie.”

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Story

Corporate Raiders

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By Jackson Amacher

Nate Says:

Their company bought ours, so some of us were going to be laid off. Everyone knew it. We also knew that Taylor, the hotshot who ran the sales department for the company that had just bought ours, was going to decide who. So, when Taylor asked me to join him and a few other guys on this “corporate retreat” to the river, I agreed. I needed this job, and if I had to kiss a bit of ass to keep it, I was ready to pucker up.

We got there on Friday morning, and spent the day doing lame team-building exercises. Taylor said he wanted to see how well we could do as a team, see, so it was all about sharing and caring and bullshit like that. But as the sun started to go down, he made it interesting.

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Story

Merry Christmas, boy

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By ty dehner

Night has come, but the living room in this Palm Springs home is filled with glowing multicolored lights from the ten-foot Spruce tree that stands in the corner next to the Roman brick fireplace with a few glowing embers behind the glass. There is a typical desert chill outside as the temperature is plummeting to the low forties for the early morning.

The living room in this mid-century modern home is manly in its decor, with a contemporary leather sectional, a set of leather chairs with chrome and glass tables with wrought iron lamps on them, currently turned off. The room seems empty with nary a sound.  But if one paused for a moment there would be the sound of faint breathing that is clearly coming from near the fireplace and lighted tree. As a few of the tree lights start a pattern of turning off and on, the breathing increases in pace as the lights dance to a faster sequence.

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