by Mark Andrews
One night after they had gone to bed, Jane asked her shyly if she had ever had sex with a woman. The implication was clear. So far, they had been good friends and the Thai girl had never even touched her improperly let alone tried to make love to her. “No, Jane. And I won’t. Not that I don’t like you - I even love you a little, but not like that.”
Jane, recognising the girl’s antipathy towards homosexual love, desisted immediately and talked of other things. She was sorry though. James only had her about once a week and while it was true he was a good and considerate lover, she wanted more. Masturbation wasn’t really satisfactory and she thought the idea of rubbing her copper- coloured breasts against the lightly tanned orbs of the other girl would be a wonderful feeling. So would their vaginas when conjoined and if she could manage to introduce one of those double-ended dildos into both of them, that would be even better.
She both admired Angela as a person - and as a sexual object. She would dearly have loved to cup her beautiful breasts in her small brown hands and fondle them, then move them down her delightful belly to feel at the intriguing slit between her legs. But it was not to be and Jane was not one to try and force herself on another.
Angela was now into her sixth month. After the first, during which she had been the rounds of some of the worst details - they always gave the new girls the worst to soften them up, she had settled down and then had been brought here to the mayor’s residence and if she still thought the system dreadful in the extreme and mourned the loss of equality between men and women, she said nothing and gave no hint that she didn’t accept her lot in life. Inside though she was with the mayor’s wife. Why shouldn’t women have a say in things, she thought. We are as intelligent and as clear-thinking as men. What gives them the right to make all the decisions?
But she was wise beyond her years and she held her counsel. Not by word of expression did she ever give any indication that she had not accepted her punishment and that when it was over she would go back to her library, if they would have her, or would instead fill any position open to her.
It was now the mayor began to talk to her about her future. “You heard what I told
Amanda, Angela. I think it’s time I revealed the rest of my plans for you.”
“Plans, Your Honour?”
“Yes, and you can drop all those titles when we are alone. Call me James... Now, you will be freed in less than six months. I want you to come and work in my office. I am going to create a position as a personal assistant. Something between personal secretary and deputy mayor. It will be up to you to filter out my mail and make arrangements to facilitate meetings and the like. Would you like the position?”
Angela’s eyes sparkled but then she realised the implications. “Will not that be going a little outside the guidelines for women, James? I mean, I would have to talk to men on an equal basi... ?”
He looked at her seriously and then smiled. “Yes, you would, wouldn’t you... Well?”
“I would love to do it,” she said.
And from then on they made plans, the two of them, sometimes with Amanda listening as well. Angela was frightened Amanda might let on her chairmanship of FAME when she heard how her husband was, at least tentatively, championing the cause of women. She didn’t for Amanda was a very intelligent woman and had no intention of compromising her husband. She knew just how dangerous a game she was playing but she wasn’t going to implicate James in her schemes.
Jane wondered what went on at these late night discussions but Angela was polite but firm. It was the mayor’s business and he would tell her in time. She kissed the Thai girl’s forehead and hugged her and told her to be patient. “It’s not that I want to have secrets from you, Jane, but believe me, it’s better you don’t know.
Jane accepted it with good grace but still she wondered.
James wanted to take her up and show her his office. She was horrified. “If you did that, everyone would look at me in amazement. What’s a prisoner, the mayor’s pony-girl, doing up here in his office? They would draw altogether the wrong conclusions but even if they happened to light on the right ones, don’t you think they might think you rather risque and presumptuous?”
He smiled. “You really are something. I wondered what your reaction would be to such a suggestion. It is no less than I anticipated...”
“You were testing me?”
“Yes. I apologise but I will be doing it often now. You are going to have to tread a very fine line in this job and any guidance I can give you, by this means, or any other way, can only be of help, don’t you think?”
“Of course sir, I’m sorry for being presumptuous.”
“Not at all. Angela, I want you to be a sort of sounding board for me. My private secretary is efficient but only in a mechanical way. She hasn’t the brains to think ahead or laterally. That I am hoping you will do for me. Of course I can protect you but only so far, you realise that, I’m sure?”
“Of course, James.”
Angela liked James. She also liked and admired Amanda. She pondered the question of sex very carefully and then decided to ask Amanda what she thought. “Mrs Swift, there is something I’d like to ask you. Something very delicate... ?”
“Does it relate to sex with my husband, Angela?”
“Yes.” “Go on.”
“I remember back to that conversation you had with him out here in the garden. You asked him why he hadn’t taken me when he obviously does Jane from time to time?”
“I remember.”
“He said he wanted to protect me... ?”
“Yes, he did. Why, don’t you want protection?”
“No, Ma’am, that’s not it. It’s not at all that I am not grateful for his treating me as a sort of china doll, it’s just I feel sort of foolish... ?”
“Are you saying to me that you want to offer your body to James?” “Am I being bad in doing so?”
Amanda stared at the girl for long seconds. “No, dear, I don’t think you’re being bad. Naïve, perhaps and very courageous in coming to me as his wife, but not bad. But let us consider the matter. Marital infidelity on the part of a man is, these days not only common, but expected, rather like it was in the Nineteenth Century. On the other hand a wife who tried it would be summarily divorced and spend the next five years of her life as you are, a naked prisoner. Now you are in a special position, placed there by my husband while he uses his other servant at least once a week. I have him whenever he wants me.
“A strange situation? No, not at all. Not these days... Let me ask you, do you want him? Do you crave his body?”
Angela looked horrified. “Oh no, Ma’am. Far be it from me to come between a man and his wife. I just thought I shouldn’t be different from Jane and I wanted to ask you about it.”
“How refreshing to see such innocence mixed with such candour. Let me be honest with you, Angela. I would far rather we were back in the old days where men, while sometimes failing their wives were at least not expected to sleep around. I would much rather I had him for myself - alone. But I know he takes Jane and I don’t hate her, or him for that matter, for it. I accept it because it is what happens these days.
“I will think on what you have said and I may discuss it with James. In the meantime, keep your own counsel, alright?”
“Yes, Ma’am, and thank you”
“Thank me? whatever for?”
“For being so understanding.”
He called Angela to his study and looked up from some papers he was studying when she entered the room. “Angela, it has come to my attention that you feel I am neglecting you.” The girl blushed. It was two weeks later but she knew instantly what he was talking about. He grinned at her. “Tell me, what experience have you had?”
“None really, James. I had a boyfriend once and we did it, um, three times, I think.”
She nodded shyly and he went back to his papers and she turned and went out. Jane knew instantly, as she knew everything that went on in the mayoral residence. “When, Angela? What did he say?”
She smiled. “I don’t know and only that it will be soon.” “Good on you, girl. You’ll enjoy him, he’s the best.
He was too, at least as far as Angela knew. Having only had the experience of one man and he singularly incompetent, she had nothing to go on. But James was gentle and caring and he brought her to five wonderful climaxes before sending her back to her narrow bed in the attic.
He had her sit on his lap and cupped her beautiful breasts in his two hands while he kissed her softly then he caressed her, all over her beautiful body. For her part, she let him do whatever he wanted but didn’t know what she should so.
“Do you not like my body, girl?”
“Oh, no sir. I think you have a wonderful body.” “Why don’t you caress me as I am you, then?” “Oh, is it allowed?”
He laughed. “Here, my beautiful and so naïve girl, we are man and lover, not mayor and prisoner or servant or whatever you are.”
“Oh.” And she let her hands wander from his handsome face, down his broad, still well defined chest to his flat belly and then to his thighs but avoided his genitals. She wondered at the hardness and great size of his penis. It was twice as big as her boyfriend’s and she had no idea what to do with it once she touched it.
“Take it, girl. Grasp it in your fist, feel how hard it is,” he instructed her, marvelling at her naivete and the very freshness of her and worrying all over again whether this was the right thing to do.
Then he picked her up and laid her on the bed, the huge bed he shared with Amanda, knowing that she knew what he was doing and that although she felt hurt by it, she nevertheless understood it was expected of him.
He made love to her tenderly, knowing that was what she would expect; quite different from Jane, who was a sexual virago and demanded (and got) a fiery, violent romp that had them both exhausted after a couple of hours. No, this time it would be soft and gentle and he hoped it would be the first of many such encounters. But he wouldn’t force her. If he felt she was put off by the experience, it would not be repeated.
Chapter 4
Angela’s life was now bearable. Just. She trotted the mayor around during the day or gardened and at night she helped Jane and occasionally was summoned to the mayor’s bed. It wasn’t idyllic but it was tolerable. The days and weeks passed and now she had only two months to go. She and the mayor planned her work in his office and she began to think life might just soon get back to normal.
Alas it was not to be. Terrible things were in train. Things that were to impinge on all their lives.
Later they (men, that is) called it the Rebellion of ‘28. Led by Amanda Swift and women like her all over the country, females simply laid down their tools and went on strike. They thought it would bring men to their senses and make them realise how draconian the new laws against womankind really were. In fact it had the opposite result. The nation’s leaders went into conclave and then, in one fell swoop, the leaders were arrested. The trials were held the same day and each and every one of them convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment.
Bit it had further, vastly more far-reaching consequences. Within a month, even more severe laws were enacted. First, there were to be no more female prisoners. They were to become slaves in law as well as in fact. Slaves, unlike prisoners could be bought and sold and the state envisaged there were going to be so many prisoners under the new arrangements they would not have the facilities to cope with them. Slaves surplus to the local civic requirements, on the other hand, could be sold at a profit for use in private homes, factories and on farms.
Other laws strengthened the powers of men over the women under their control. There was now no such thing as an independent woman. Every one of them was under the dominion of some man and he now had virtual power of life and death over them. He could even sell a daughter, wife or other female who was under his authority if she became fractious - or for any reason, even if only because he needed the money.
All women were thus de facto slaves even if they weren’t actually registered as such. Of course those who were, were under even more constraint. They couldn’t be on the streets without written authority and while nakedness was no longer actually required of them as it had been for prisoners under the previous arrangements, their dress (if they were permitted by their owner to wear clothing at all) was severely circumscribed. Any slave caught wearing normal clothes was automatically sentenced to a public flogging. A rag around their loins, a metal contraption covering their vagina, a steel mesh perhaps... these were considered as suitable; even a short skirt was not. The breasts were never covered.
For Angela, the new rules were particularly tragic. She had been due to be released in less than two months and was looking forward to the challenge the mayor had presented to her. All that was swept away in the furore that followed the women’s abortive uprising. Five years was now the minimum sentence. Five years as a slave. All existing prisoners were converted to slaves by the stroke of a pen and any whose sentence was under the minimum had their dates of release altered accordingly. She now therefore had four years and two months to serve as a slave.
Her boss changed too. James was forced to resign as mayor the moment his wife was convicted. He slipped away into political obscurity and new elections were held to replace him. This happened all over the country of course as many politicians’ wives, both state as well as municipal, had been involved in the conspiracy and during the election process, public sentiment against women was whipped up into even more anger and resentment.
All this the world watched with growing concern. As a result of Third World pressure over recent events in Africa and Oceania and in Asia, where the UN had tried to intervene, it had now been told to keep its nose out of national affairs and it was powerless to act but that didn’t stop the international press from having a field day. Leaders however, simply ignored world opinion and went on with their business. That business was now to show women who was boss - and in no uncertain terms.
As slaves, women could of course be made to wear anything their owners desired, as long as it wasn’t considered normal clothing, that is. As a result, a whole new industry sprang up overnight. Items crafted of highly polished leather, gleaming metal of various kinds and wood were manufactured in new factories and sold in ‘slave shops’ around the cities. Harnesses of all kinds, slave collars made of leather and beaten metal, metal breast clamps (as long as they didn’t cover the ‘udders’ (as they came to be called) and anal and vaginal plugs were but a few of the items sold and of course whips, paddles and canes of multitudinous varieties figured largely in the displays. As the business of slavery developed, these shops later grew into full-scale slave dealerships with pens in the back to hold the merchandise. Gymnasia to train their bodies into more pleasing shape and even, in the classier establishments, mini-schools to train them in the domestic and sexual arts were also added.
Slavery was born again!
Angela’s new boss was mayor Alex Brown. He was everything James Swift had not been: arrogant, dictatorial and impetuous, but he was also lecherous and sadistic with it. Not that these ‘qualities’ came out in the campaign. Oh no. He was a very handsome man, tall and well-built with straw-blond hair and a tanned face that smiled a lot. His blue eyes didn’t (smile) although people didn’t see that from a distance. He was a seasoned politician and knew exactly how to woo the voters. They fell for it and now he and his wife arrived at the mayoral residence.
First he inspected his staff. Cook was fired and replaced with a slave. So was the
gardener. There were now four slaves in the household and once the two new arrivals were in place he addressed them all. “Things are going to change around here,” he growled, as his eyes roved up and down the svelte naked bodies of his slaves. He stepped forward and fingered each of them in turn as an ante-bellum slaveholder might have done in America. He stared into their eyes as his hands roved over their breasts and down to their sex, delving in deep as they squirmed in shame. Clearly he was daring them to object. They didn’t. There wasn’t a woman in the nation who wasn’t scared out of her pants at this time of change and no newly made slavegirl was going to object to what her new master did to her, no matter how indecent.
“Yes, we’re going to have a great deal more discipline and I want to see a lot more work out of you... Jason, come here.” A huge black man now stepped out of the shadows. He really was a giant, at least six feet six and built like an Olympic athlete, his muscles rippled with every movement. His clothes were very form-fitting - very revealing actually. He was dressed in white pants and a body-hugging t-shirt with very short sleeves. These accented his body, demonstrating to the four slavegirls just how muscular he really was. In his hand was a whip and hanging from the right side of his belt was a cane while on the left what they later discovered a cattle prodder.
“Jason will be your supervisor. He has my full authority to discipline you when he feels you are not giving your best. Perhaps some demonstrations, Jason... ?”
“Sure, boss.” His voice was deep and his black eyes now roved over the four girls. They alighted on Angela. “You, come forward.”
She stepped forward, her heart quaking as she looked up at this terrifying young man. He reached out and mauled her breasts while he leered down into her face. Then he dug his fingers into her quim. “Hands up behind your head, slut,” he ordered and she complied hurriedly. “Now spread your legs. Open that cunt to our view...”