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Introduction:

How I came to own a sexual slave
This story is set in a Future America. the story opens in a small house in Central Florida. there are three people there. two a male and a female are on the floor, immobile. the third is the narrator, Jack Dahl.

I hope this first installment meets with your approval. Based on reader feedback I will modify the next chapters. Death is an ever present spectre that awaits those who cross Jack. Let me know your thoughts.


This Fictional Story takes place fifty years in our future, the year: 2063

My name is Jack Dahl, and I am a reaper, well that what we call ourselves. Technically I guess I could be called an expediter. Not a glorious job, but one that pays the bills. Some people believe that they can rack up serious debts and then skip out on them, they are sadly mistaken. At some point the bill comes due, and when it does, the collectors call me; I get them their pounds of flesh…literally.

You may not think much of what I do, but my job restores order to a world run amok, and as I said, it’s a job that someone is going to do or have done. Does it bother me you ask? No, not really. It did at one time, but like anything distasteful, once you have done it enough times you learn to deal with it. In my first two or three jobs I was completely insane with guilt, with paranoia, but like anything you do, if you do it enough you can eventually do it without thinking.

Look I didn't hold a gun to the heads of these people and demand that they take cash for their needs or wants. They made that decision on their own. I've heard just about every sob story there is. “I have the money; I’ll repay the debt first thing in the morning after the bank opens,” only to disappear into the night in an attempt to get lost. Sorry sweetie, once things have progressed to a point that I get called, the days of bargaining are over. Oh I've had quite the odd bit of adventure through the years. I don’ tell this to everybody, I mean who would listen right? But what choice do you have? But there are those collections that are forever burned into my memory. This one will certainly go down as exercise ion self-control.

This all started for me when I was fresh out of the service. The God damn Muslims were trying to overtake the good old US of A. Man that was a big mistake. I can’t see them trying that again; they may have been a huge part of the population at one time. The nukes that were dropped on the Middle East were pretty decisive. Make the shit that happened in Japan in the 40’s look like a kids corner fire-cracker display. The day the final Peace agreement was signed, I knew that my Military career was over. So I took my skills and experience and returned home. I was looking for something to put food on the table, when I was
approached by two gentlemen representing a collection company. I never even considered collections. The very idea evokes an image of a brutish muscle head, cracking skulls and collecting cash. Those days are long gone. Too much damage to the goods, so to speak, and that sort of thuggery is really low life, if you ask me

I bet you don’t even understand this business do you? The condensed version goes something like this: You need cash, and allot of it for some purpose. Medicine for your wife, or husband, treatment for your kids funeral expenses for your parents whatever it is that’s driving you to seek out large Cash, that’s on you. Pay off another debt, whatever it is, you wind up in front of one of the loan agents with us. They aren't just going to fork over the dough; I mean let’s face it, if you had property or anything of value you would have sold it already. Nope when you get to the point that you come to these guys it’s because you are in a state of desperation and unfettered with any possessions of value.

These guys are going to size you up run a few medical and physical tests do a little compatibility matching and generally see what you got to offer. Let’s say you are, a 23 year old woman. You have great eyes, strong bones, healthy lungs, good kidneys, liver, ovaries, and heart. Well collectively, if you are disease free and prone to take good care of yourself you might have a worth, on paper of $60,000.

Now if you are in your 40’s the same materials may now only be worth something more like $25,000. It’s all timing. Remember the old saying that time is money? Truer words were never spoken. If they agree to give you a loan, then you have a set time to cough up the cash, plus interest. Of course there is a fine line here, and they have an investment to protect.

They monitor the borrower with an ankle bracelet, 24/7. They know where you are, and the bracelet also monitors your health. You start showing signs of distress, say you start drinking smoking, or doing dope and the collateral, your body, takes a severe downturn in value. That’s when my cell rings, that when I get involved. Over the years I have developed a strict no recall policy. Sorry, this is business, and I have a reputation to protect. The call comes through, the file transferred, the frequency of the bracelet gets turned over to me, and within 24 hours your sorry ass is on a cold stainless steel table, and the harvest begins. Not to worry. You won’t feel a damn thing, thanks to this little puppy. This is a D-Link pulse gun, cute huh? Only about 30 oz. in weight, minimum bulk and fantastic power. Only drawback is the energy cell carries three rounds before recharge is required. I keep an extra set of cells with me, you never know, right? All I got to do is get this within 12 inches of your head, preferably somewhere between the back sides of your ears and squeeze the trigger. There’s no kick like a conventional gun, Just a mild “Zaaaap” and the party’s over. This works by basically disconnecting the conscious thought centers of the brain from communicating with the body. The hind brain, which is responsible for your heartbeat, respiration, body temp regulation, remains unaffected. So the lights are all on, but there is no one home. I guess in the early days of collections they would use a dart or an injection. That worked OK I guess, but it wasn't instant and the subject could call out for help, or draw attention to themselves. Then there were the physical marks and of course the chemical trail left in the body by the drugs. Sometimes those things showed up in the harvested organs, and let’s face it if you are paying $100.000, you want pristine goods right?
Any way this little thing does a great job, if you know how to use it. And as you can see I have used it before, painful in low doses isn't it? I have dialed this back to a very low setting to have this opportunity for us to talk.

I mentioned earlier that along the way I have had some notable adventures. True, more like painful lessons really. My first jobs were males, between 26 and 47. It took time to develop the right approach. My first job saw it coming and broke my nose in two places, before he went down. I was bleeding like a running hose until I managed to get back to my wheels and manage an escape. Hell I was so shaken I forgot to queue the meat wagon until the following day. I was at the warehouse when they hung the SOB up to wait on processing. I watched the pierces go through his ears and clamp onto his head as they hauled his inert body off the gurney. I meant to be back at the center when they opened him up and started the harvest, but I was on another assignment. Fuck him. I hope he felt at least some pain, although I doubt it.
My first female didn’t happen for almost ten months. I guess they wanted to see if I would go all squeamish on them if they suggested I take a woman out of circulation. By then I had some play and I better understood the nature of the beast. First woman met me at the door, wearing her nightey, as I had made a “late” call. I showed her this fake badge and mentioned the name of her son. She opened the door and invited me inside. Soon as the door shut I dropped my badge, and she stooped to retrieve it from the floor. Her head was down at the right level, and I had the muzzle six inches from her skull before she stopped mid motion, women’s intuition I suppose. I pulled the trigger; she dropped like a puppet without strings. I arranged her neatly in the kitchen, pressed the button the ankle bracelet, and waltzed out the back door, pretty as you please. The meat wagon showed up within 45 minutes, and off she went.

Things didn't go as smoothly in a couple of other jobs. I been kicked in the nuts, punched, had a knife fight, I've been screamed, cursed, had boiling water thrown at me, hell you name it. I’ve been hospitalized from any number of different things. Each one was a learning experience. With all this having happened, my favorite story is how I met our Allison over there. Pay attention Romeo, because you are about to have a life lesson.
Six months ago I received a call; it was a job, another collection. The Loan belonged was one Allison Walker. The bio was a bit sketchy, but that happens. I got the bracelet frequency, and switched on the homer. I wandered out to my car and changed the signage that I use on collection jobs. Jumped in and took a drive. Nice neighborhood Allison lived in. I parked down the street and waited to get a feel for the area. I kept my clip board out and read her file:

Allison Theresa Walker, 29 years old, born August 22, 2034, in Wilmington Del. White, Blond hair, Green eyes, 5’9”, weight 113, size 8 shoe, no “Augmentation”, no tattoos, no known scars, Excellent health, athletic build. No children. Single. Parents both deceased, No siblings. Allison was a runner, participating in track and field through her college years. She was an avid swimmer and has healthy eating habits. No current diseases or health issues. Allison is a Non-smoker, with no history of Drug or alcohol use. Unemployed, savings depleted, awaiting an extension on public service money to make her rent, which was three weeks in arrears. Current residence: 2736 Jantos Street, Building 6, Apartment 29, good old Tampa Florida.

I looked up the street at the buildings and I spotted her Apartment easily enough. Her place was on the Second floor, balcony facing the lake. Windows open, although the heat was stifling. I suppose she either was trying to save on the electricity bill, or they had already switched it off for non-payment. A quick check through my cell revealed that the power had been turned off three days prior.
I consulted the bracelet link, and found her body temp was elevated, respiration was shallow, and blood pressure was low. She was relaxed and/or sleeping. Blood gasses indicated she was well in the green, nothing there to be concerned with. Using a feature in the bracelet I activated the microphone, and was rewarded with the sound of her steady breathing. I would listen in on her as I made my approach and verify she was alone, before I made the final move.

After a quick recon of the immediate area I decided it was time to move forward, and took the steps up to the second floor landing. No sense in having your picture taken and ID confirmed by the security provisions in the elevators. There a scan was made of each occupant and the face recognition software assigned an identity to each person on-board. An extra unknown face was something that may just be subject to investigations. So I took the stairs and started from the opposite side of the building.
Like any other building the security is only as good as the people who use it. On the second floor landing the security door had been left wedged open with a small piece of wood. Kids, will find a way to get in and out, bypassing the same elevators I had.

I approached the marks door and knocked politely, having already checked the setting on my D-link and verified a full charge was ready and waiting behind the trigger. I slid the piece out of its holster and slipped it into my waist band. I held up the clip board with the local utility provider’s logo on it. The all outward appearances I was just another working stiff checking on a problem with the utilities.

I had to knock again when I received no response on the first round. In my ear bud I could hear Allison stirring from a deep sleep and respond with a small voice. “Be right there”

Although I had read the description of Allison before I made the trip up the steps I was unprepared for the sight that met me as the door opened. She was dressed in a thin night gown, sexy and revealing. It was obvious that he either didn't own undergarments, or choose not to wear them. Just as obvious was her lack of modesty. She made no attempt to cover herself any further. She looked up at me with eyes still filled with sleep. Her face was tired, as if the weight of the world was resting on her. Still she managed a smile as I introduced myself. “Hi I’m Phillip Manses from the Power Company” I started; it was one of my pre-rehearsed speeches designed to get me past the door. She removed the chain latch and opens it further bidding me to enter.

As I entered her apartment, I was taken by how empty the space was. There was nothing in the apartment at all save for a thick blanket spread out on the floor, and a few personal items. I could see into the bathroom and noted that again it was also empty. I noticed this all at a glance and I focused my attention on Allison. She turned and stared at me. She said “ Mr. Manses, I don’t believe you are with the Power Company, I believe you are with the collections division of a certain loan institution, and that you are here to collect your investment. “ She was smart enough to see it coming, which was good. I waited, anticipating that she would bolt for the door or begin to scream and raise hell crying out for help. She did neither. In fact she did something I never expected.

Allison faced me head on, lowered her eyes and dropped to her knees. She then removed her flimsy nightgown and let it fall free to the floor. She asked me if the procedure would hurt, and I could see tears falling to the floor forming a small puddle. I looked at Allison Walker for a full minute. She was stunning, beautiful in every way physically. Her skin was flawless, muscle tone was readily evident, she had very little in the way of body fat, in-fact she looked slightly underweight for her height, and several of her lower ribs showed through her chest wall. She had the most wondrous pair of breasts I had ever seen, each was perfect, and the two were absolutely symmetric. The areola were small, as were her nipples, and despite the heat they stood proud of her chest. Her stomach was flat with only a hint of well-formed musculature below the surface. I had noted that she trimmed for pubic area into a neat clean inch wide strip; the hair that remained was clipped short. As she kneeled it was no longer in evidence however. If at that moment I was asked to describe Allison Walker, I could only use the word perfection.

Noticed all these things, collected my thoughts, and approached her placing the barrel of the D-link against her head. What a damn shame. I was about to pull the trigger when I heard Allison speak again. Her voices quivered as she attempted to speak with me.

“Mr. Manses, are you married?”, she asked, her voice quiet, controlled. I replied no. “Are you seeing anyone, anyone serious?” again I replied no.

She tilted her head slightly, meeting my eyes. “I know that you are probably not going to accept, but I would like to extend and offer, and in it you have nothing to lose.” She said quietly, her breathing shallow. I looked at her, “Ms. Walker I do this for a living, I've heard every offer there is, and I have never found anything to them but bullshit. It may just be your survival instinct kicking in, I don’t know, but you are not the first to make offers you can’t deliver.” I pressed the barrel against her skull and again prepared to do what I was sent for. She looked up her eyes pleading to be heard and said,” I’ll make you a deal, I’ll give you the best sexual experience of your life. The best sexual experience I am capable of delivering. You can have me, as a willing participant, to satisfy your ever y need. On the condition that once we share this time together, you will allow me to present you a proposal. If that proposal is not to your liking, then you pull the trigger, and walk out. You will have the wonderful memories of my last moments on earth as your prize. Or you could have a lifetime of the same memories. You decide, and I will be, or cease to be, it’s your decision.”
She looked me in the eye and must have concluded what I was thinking. She said “ I am not looking to scam you, or distract you and make a getaway. I am not looking to disarm you or dissuade you. You can hold your piece against my head the entire time if you like. If you decide that you want to take my offer, please remember that I want just five full minutes after we share this time together, to make my case to you, and again you can decide my fate.”

The offer seemed sincere, and I was one who knew when I heard sincerity. She saw that I was still skeptical. “Here” she said, directing my hand and holding my gun directly against her temple. She then reached up and started to move her hands against the outside of my trousers, the result of which was instant arousal. Her touch was tentative, light, and gentle. She moved her hand across the thin material and in doing so brought forth the full evolvement of my erection. I moaned softly, holding the D-link to her head. One slip, one shot of pain and I would pull the trigger, instantly dropping her to the floor and oblivion.
Soon my cock was crying out for more than the simple caress through the fabric. And I felt her hand move up my leg toward the zipper on the front of my pants, she moved slowly and deliberately, so as not to have a move misinterpreted. With steady pressure she lowered the zipper and revealed m cock eagerly waiting inside. Traveling commando has its rewards. As soon as my cock leapt free of its containment, Allison began to minister to its desires. She ran her tongue gently around the swollen head and then explored the length of my shaft, lavishing great attention to my balls as well. After several long moments of exploring Allison settled into a slow rhythm, taking my cock deep down her throat, and slowing drawing it back out. The feeling was exquisite. It was all to apparent that this was not her first rodeo, and she had perfected her technique. With every eight or ten slow stokes she moved away from my cock, and alternately caressed my balls, now that she had worked my pants open, and allowing full access to my manhood. She did everything slowly, deliberately and she looked to actually be enjoying what she was doing. Soon I began to feel the stirring of an orgasm building within my groin, and the more she worked it the more the urge made its self known. Her head bobbed forward and back, and she actually started to make a small humming sound deep in her throat, the vibrations radiated to the head of my cock. And I knew, despite my objections to releasing my load so soon, that I was fighting a losing battle. Allison sensed my approaching eruption and stroked my balls along the backside, tugging on them with her free hand, and suddenly I was no longer able to deny my release. It was Allison who placed her hand on my ass and pulled her head down the entire length of my shaft, at just the moment of a shuttering orgasm. I felt the first jets of my load fully force themselves down Allison’s open throat, and still she pulled, and tugged at my shaft milking the next jet to cum. I remember distinctly the feeling of the 6th spurt as I completely emptied myself into her mouth. I was still holding the barrel of the D-link to her skull. I had managed to hold my passionate response, from accidentally pulling the trigger. As the last drops of hot spunk left my body my cock began to slowly soften. The feeling of complete satisfaction warmed me as I stood there. Allison, her eyes shut, her face peaceful slowly allowed my manhood to escape her touch. Looking down on her I was still fascinated at the beauty of the sight. If I had known then what I do now I would have simply pulled the trigger at that moment, taken my wonderful gift, and moved on. I didn’t however. I simply waited, attempting to maintain my balance, and stead my heart rate. Within a minute thing were far better. As I glanced down I watched as Allison lowered herself until her forehead rested on my shoes. She was such a beauty. Her voice still quivering she spoke softly. “I have not done that for at least a year. I’m sure that with a little time I can be better at it, If you will be patient with me.” I said nothing.

Allison allowed herself to slowly drop completely to the floor, and she rolled over to look up at me. “While my oral talents may not be completely up to par, I am totally secure in other areas. Do you think you can handle this?” she said with a wink. I still wasn't sold on the whole program, and I dreaded the discussion that would follow, but thinking with my dick had gotten me into worse situations. In the next ten minutes I found myself completely naked and with the D-Link safely holstered and deactivated, among my personal belonging in a far corner of the room. True to her words Allison started slowly, rebuilding my earlier excitement. The vision of her fully naked body above mine, her legs straddling me, and the feeling as my cock parted her fully engorged and soaking pussy is a memory I will cherish for a lifetime. We practiced moves that would have made a rubber band envious, with every twist and turn choreographed for maximum pleasure. Within the hour I lay beside her spent, utterly satisfied, holding dearly to the sensations, the feel of her skin, her touch, her kisses. The way she moved, was a show onto itself. This was the stuff of fantasy, and I was enjoying it to the fullest. As we lay there, our bodies covered in a thin sheen f sweat, Allison raised herself and propped her head on her raised hand, her elbow supported on the floor between us.
“ I have done as I promised, I hope you agree” she began, “and I want you to now fulfill your end of our agreement. Please allow me to present my case, and I will abide by your decision. No muss no fuss.” I looked into her eyes, and knowing I would regret it I nodded for her to begin.

‘ I want to make you an offer. Full and sincere, I want to sell myself to you. Literally, I want you to consider the possibilities, of buying out my debt, clearing my account, in exchange for full ownership rights over me. I am asking you to accept me as a piece of property, yours to own, not for a day or a month but until you decide that the debt if fulfilled. I am offering myself to you, as a housekeeper, a cook, and your companion, in bed or out. I will be there to meet your needs, in whatever form they take. You can have full access to me sexually, at any time. All this, all that I am, I offer to you, on your terms, for as long as you feel is fair. I make this commitment to you, willingly, and I beg you to consider this as a real offer.”

The words came so quickly that I was still attempting to process them, and the terms of the offer. I gave it a few minutes to settle in, and asked her “How much is owed on your loan?” Her face brightened to a point that looked as if she was aglow. The mere question was a sign that I had really considered the offer, and that we may be able to work through her issue. If not she understood that she would never leave this room.
Allison answered, her tone hushed, but serious, “ I owe $23, 534.23 as of this morning. Tomorrow additional interest will be added, but I am not exactly sure of the grand total” It was obvious at that moment that she had carefully considered her options, weighed her debt, and prayed for a receptive collector to visit her. She could just as easily have been sent a married man, or one with different sexual interests, and she would be laying in a heap in the corner of this room awaiting the arrival of the meat wagon, and processing. Luck had been with her, I was one of three people that covered this area of the State, and she could easily have drawn the longer straw, and lost all possibility of escape had another been given her collection.
I considered the offer carefully, and asked “How much was the original loan” staring her directly in her jewel like green eyes. “I borrowed $40,000.00 to complete college, and get myself started in a career. I've never missed a payment and I have repaid almost half, by leveraging everything I owned. That’s why the apartment is bare. I sold everything to make the last two payments. I am down to nothing. All I have left to offer, all I have to sell now is myself. My body, my mind, it’s all there is. I don’t want to die, I want to have as much life as I can, enjoy each second that I can get. Please, consider me, consider what I have what I offer. I can promise you years of pleasure, companionship, and loyalty. I will be yours, to own, not as a wife or a girlfriend. I offer myself as your property. I will be there for you in every way. Please, please, consider this” her eyes welled with tears as she pleaded with me to accept her. I looked into those eyes and I did consider it. I thought about the nights I returned to my small house. No company, lonely. Having her as my companion would be something. I certainly had the financial capability to afford her, only I wasn't convinced that it would work. If I purchased her contract, she would be free of obligation to the loan, and only her words bound her to me, That represented a risk. My money would be gone, and I would be left holding air. What was there to assure me that she would not walk away? Clearly we could not enter into a legal agreement. Lincoln had freed the slaves, and slavery in any form was unacceptable in the social structure.
I allowed the thought to run through my mind. Considering the pros and cons, I started to form an idea. I started to work out the details aloud. “If I were to entertain this endeavor, what assurances do I have that you don’t simply walk away after I pay off your debt?” I asked. I would be happy to have the bracelet remain on my leg, a sure way for you to find me, if I broke our agreement, but I won’t. I will make a complete commitment to follow through” I looked into those eyes again, and asked myself, could I really trust her? “What would you require from me other than the satisfaction of your debt?” I asked. She looked at me, quizzically “Absolutely nothing. I have a prayed that you will treat me fairly, let me earn food and remain out of the weather. I pray that you will not abuse me physically or scar my body, scars that I will bear for my life I mean. I only want to have a life, and I promise to serve you faithfully until such time as you agree that I have repaid your investment, and you release me from my promise”. This idea had potential, but there was the trust issue at work. On her end, she was quite literally gambling for her very life. On mine I was looking at an investment that could backfire and leave me a fool. Still the thoughts of companionship, caring, housekeeping prepared meals and the nights of sexual activity were a huge temptation. I looked at her again, and silently asked myself is she worth it? One look at that face, that body, and I was sold. Girls like Allison were few and far between. None had ever given me a second glance. Here was on begging me to take her, for a price of course. I closed my eyes for a minute and smiles. In that moment I heard her laugh and as I opened my eyes she leaned over kissing me deeply “You won’t be sorry, I am going to be your….everything.”
8 comments

Anonymous readerReport 

2015-07-08 05:34:57
I agree that it would be lovely if Allison turned out to be with the FBI or some other law-enforcement organization, but our story makes that seem unlikely. While slavery is unconstitutional, illegal and immoral, it appears that Allison's best bet is to become Phillip's slave-- at least for a while.

Anonymous readerReport 

2014-09-23 03:13:46
I hope Allison turns out to be an undercover FBI agent who takes our "reaper" down!!

anonymous readerReport 

2013-10-23 22:15:14
o1heYA Major thankies for the article post.Thanks Again. Want more.

anonymous readerReport 

2013-10-15 08:58:30
Very similar storyline to Repo Men.

Norton5Report 

2013-10-04 20:41:18
Very good, easy, fast-reading. A brilliantly unique, futuristic story too! Excellent work. Loved the sex.

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