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Subject: {ASSM} Jenny (slave, intro)
Date: Mon, 1 May 2000 04:10:09 -0400
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> Jenny Marsten stared, stunned, at the computer screen. The
>seventeen-year-old had just lost her freedom, and not for merely one or two
>hundred days. She was, at that moment, beginning 1250 days-more than three
>and one half years-of slavery. Just how it was that a girl at the end of
>her junior year in high school should find herself facing servitude is a
>story in itself, one that Jenny herself would be hard pressed to tell. In
>brief, the first third of the twenty-first century witnessed a brief, but
>savage, domination of America by far right-wing politicians. The
>constitution, especially the Bill of Rights, was amended beyond
>recognition.
>During the predictable move back to the left, the constitution was nearly
>entirely restored. However, for some reason the prohibition against cruel
>and unusual punishment was not. Without this protection, the government
>had
>found it convenient, and profitable, to sell female prisoners (at least the
>young and attractive ones) into slavery. Slavery itself, once the
>constitution was brought back to life, was illegal. However, jurists given
>to sophism had ruled several times that a prisoner sold into slavery was
>not
>a slave but a prisoner. The court challenges to this manifest nonsense had
>gone on for fifty years, but slavery as an acceptable form of punishment
>had
>become entrenched. Male prisoners, of course, were never sold into
>slavery,
>the market for such slaves being non-existent.
> Jenny, though, was not a prisoner who had been sold to a slaveholder.
>She
>had taken a voluntary route. Not long after slavery became established, it
>was noted by the slaveholders that only prisoners could become slaves. To
>extend equal rights to women who were not fortunate enough to find
>themselves in prison, the slaveholders had managed, again with some
>legalistic legerdemain, to convince some judges that a woman could gamble
>with her freedom. The logic employed here was even worse than that used to
>justify slavery for prisoners. Since slavery was illegal, laws were
>enacted
>which made it illegal for a woman to lose a game of chance played against a
>slaveholder. Thus, by losing such a game, the woman violated the law and
>thereby became liable to imprisonment. Slaveholders were permitted, under
>such circumstances, to immediately enslave the woman rather than go through
>all the legal hassle of charging, convicting, imprisoning, and then
>purchasing the woman.
> The game whereby a woman gambled with her freedom had to be simple and
>quick. The first few years slaveholders conducted such games, there were
>few takers. Then one day a woman offered to gamble her freedom by playing
>computer solitaire. The woman was young and pretty and the slaveholder
>agreed. The deal was simple. The woman would play five games of
>solitaire.
>If she was ahead at the end of five games, the slaveholder would pay her a
>certain multiple of that amount (in this first deal it was reputed to be
>ten).
>If she was behind at the end of the five games, she would lose her freedom
>for a certain multiple of the amount she was behind, in days. She won, but
>the
>slaveholder immediately saw the advantage of such an arrangement. First,
>each potential slave would command her own multiples. The younger and more
>attractive players would be given the opportunity to win large amounts
>while
>facing the prospect of relatively short terms of enslavement. Those women
>whom the slavers did not want would be offered very unattractive multiples,
>and therefore would not play at all. Second, using solitaire opened the
>possibility of standardizing the enslavement process. This appealed to the
>slavers because they wanted as many women as possible to be aware of, and
>understand, the process.
> At first, the slavers chose a version of solitaire that was
>difficult to win. Most women who played lost, and therefore few played.
>Realizing their error, the slavers changed to a game that approximately
>eight out of every ten women won. Since a female slave was easily worth
>$30,000 a year, the slavers more than recouped their losses. In addition,
>the number of women willing to gamble their freedom skyrocketed. There
>weren't lines of women outside every slaver's business waiting to gamble,
>but
>from a bare trickle before the introduction of the easy form of solitaire
>the flow of potential slaves had increased to the point where the slavers
>had as many applicants as they wanted. They could therefore be very
>selective.
> Thus Jenny Marsten, pretty and seventeen, was allowed to gamble her
>freedom.
>Her multiples were twenty-five for winning and ten for losing. The screen
>in front of her showed that she was behind $125 at the end of the fifth
>game. "Twelve hundred and fifty days," she said to herself, not believing
>it.
> Among high school girls like Jenny, gambling your freedom had become
>something of a rite of passage. A girl considered it a high compliment for
>a slaver to let her gamble her freedom, since only the most attractive
>women
>were allowed to play. In addition, getting to the point of actually
>gambling required a fair amount of diligence and skill. Feminist
>organizations, alarmed that girls Jenny's age were becoming slaves, managed
>to place several reasonable obstacles in the slavers' way. Any free female
>who wished to gamble her freedom had to go through a detailed information
>process. First, she had to play one hundred hours of the type of solitaire
>that she would play at the slavers. This, it was hoped, would show her
>that
>she could lose. It would also improve her skill at the game in the event
>she decided to gamble anyway. Second, and more importantly, she had to
>state in writing that she understood what a slave's life entailed. This
>she
>did by copying, word for word, several times, a list of conditions under
>which a slave lived. Jenny was, at that very moment, going over that list
>in her mind.
> Girls like Jenny, though, who thought themselves brave as well as
>pretty,
>regularly visited the slavers. They treated the gamble with their freedom
>as a lark or a dare, and considered the girls who ended up slaves to be
>losers. They joked about what to do if you lost: Jenny could herself and
>her friends saying, in a mocking tone, "Open wiiiiide," and then bursting
>into laughter. At the moment, it didn't sound very funny. She knew that
>her friends had watched her progress, in the waiting room at the
>slveholders
>business, as she played the five games that ended her freedom, and she knew
>that by now they were making their way back to their favorite hangout to
>report to all who could hear it that Jenny was now a slave. There were
>likely several boys from her high school who would be glad to hear it.
> The slavers, after years of experience, had learned how to handle new
>slaves
>like Jenny. Years ago, new slaves were gang raped, then severely whipped
>on
>their first day. Those days were long gone. The slavers learned that a
>new slave, treated firmly but not viciously, adapted to her new position
>and
>ultimately became a much more attractive property than the slave who was
>routinely abused. Jenny now found herself the newest subject of the
>slaveholders enlightened methods. She had stared at the screen for three
>minutes in silence, showing almost no reaction at all. Women who lost
>their
>freedom were left to themselves for several minutes to gauge their initial
>response. If the new slave did not break down in tears, she could be taken
>to her new quarters straightaway. If the loss was too much to handle,
>though, the new slave was left alone until she was able to compose herself.
>Jenny needed half and hour to stop crying.
> When she finally did, a woman in
>her thirties, a slave herself, came into the room to get Jenny.
> "C'mon, honey," the older slave said taking hold of Jenny's upper
>arm,
>"let's get you something to drink. If you're hungry, you can have
>something
>to eat too."
> Jenny looked up at the woman who had addressed her. She was startled
>to see
>a woman, completely naked save for a wide, brown leather collar, staring
>down at her.
> "C'mon, sweetie," the older slave said again, "let's get you a bit to
>drink
>and a place to lie down."
> Jenny, rather mechanically, got up and followed the older woman out
>of
>the
>gaming room, which contained only a table, a chair, and a computer. They
>walked through a door, which closed heavily behind them, and proceeded down
>a long, windowless, but well-lighted hallway. At the end of the hallway
>was
>a door which opened for them when the older slave pushed a buzzer. Jenny
>could not tell who opened the door, for she saw no one as the two slaves
>began walking down another, wider hallway. This hallway, much shorter than
>the first, had two doors on its right side, though these were wooden rather
>than metal. The older slave stopped at the first door and opened it.
>Jenny
>noticed there was no lock or latch on the door. The room was nearly bare.
>There was no furniture at all. Some blankets and a pillow were stacked
>against the right wall. The left wall had an open door that led to a small
>bathroom.
> "Sorry about the lack of furniture, but that's the way it is for a
>slave,"
>said the older woman. "You like Coke? Milk? Want something to eat?"
> Jenny was cried out, else she might have burst into tears again. She
>said
>nothing.
> "Okay, I'll get you a Coke. If you spread out those blankets, you
>can
>make
>yourself a place to lie down."
> The older slave disappeared, without closing the door, leaving Jenny
>alone.
>Jenny was still wearing the smock that gamblers had to change into. It
>wasn't immodest, but it was the only clothing she had. Gamblers left their
>own clothes behind when they entered the gaming room. If the gambler won,
>she was given back her clothes and some money. If not, the smock was her
>only clothing. Jenny unfolded three of the blankets, laying them one on
>top
>of another, and sat down, leaning her back against the wall. In a moment,
>the older slave came back with a Coke in a paper cup. She handed it to
>Jenny, then sat down herself opposite Jenny. She let Jenny drink a little
>of the Coke before speaking.
> "I guess you know what a slave's life is like, so I won't go into any
>of
>that unless you want me to. I'm just here to let you know what happens
>today and tomorrow. You can stop me any time you want and ask me
>anything."
>The older slave paused. "Understand?" she said as gently as she could.
>Jenny nodded.
> "OK, first it's possible to get along here tolerably well, once
>you've
>completed your training. At first it's a bit rough, but I've never met a
>girl who couldn't get used to it. By the way, do you know what time it
>is?"
> Jenny looked up quizzically. "It's about 3," she said.
> "AM or PM?"
> "PM, of course. Who would be out and about at 3 AM?"
> "Who can say?" said the older slave, "but in here you lose all track
>of
>time. I needed to know so I can give you an idea of your schedule. In a
>few hours you'll have to change into your regular outfit. Slaves go naked
>except for a leather collar and leather wrist and ankle bracelets. For new
>slaves, the collar and the bracelets are yellow." Jenny already knew from
>her information sessions what standard attire was for a slave. She noticed
>that the older slave had a plain brown collar and bracelets, and that there
>were metal rings, about two inches in diameter, attached to the collar and
>the bracelets. Jenny also knew that a slave could be punished in any
>manner
>the slaveholder chose, and guessed that the rings had something to do with
>that. She couldn't resist asking.
> "What are the rings for?"
> "The collar ring is for a leash, mostly" said the older slave
>matter-of-factly. "All the rings are used as restraints at one time or
>another."
> "Do you get beaten often?" asked Jenny, in a worried tone.
> "A slave is rarely beaten. She may be punished, but that usually
>only
>happens when she disobeys. You'll find out all about that from your
>master,
>anyway. I can't say how your master will treat you."
> "My, . . ." Jenny could hardly say the word . . . "master?"
> "Yes, your master. Every new slave has a master that supervises her
>training. I was going to get that, but since you brought it up I may as
>well talk about it now. There are only two things to remember about your
>master. Always obey him, without hesitation, and never speak unless he
>tells you to speak."
> "What?" Jenny said loudly, looking up from her drink. "Don't speak?
>That's
>impossible! Besides, you're speaking."
> "Yes, I'm speaking but to another slave and there are no non-slaves
>present.
>Whenever you're in the presence of a non-slave, you must not speak unless
>you are told to." Oh, gawd, Jenny moaned to herself, I'll never be able to
>do that.
> "Why did you say non-slave just now?" Jenny asked.
> "Because you may be in the presence of women who are not slaves. I
>can't
>say any more that that. I'm here just to help you through your first day.
>Your master will tell you all you need to know. But remember, you must
>always obey him, without hesitation and say nothing unless you are spoken
>to. If you like, I can show you how to sit when you first meet him. It
>will make things go easier."
> Oh, shit, thought Jenny, I'm actually a slave and a slave is telling
>me
>how
>I have to sit.
> "You may as well take off that smock. It will help you get used to
>being
>naked and it will be easier for me to show you how to sit."
> Jenny was not at all sure that she wanted to strip in front of this
>woman,
>but she reasoned that the slave knew what she was talking about. Jenny was
>frightened of punishment, and if the older slave could help her avoid it,
>Jenny was willing to listen. She set what was left of her Coke on the
>floor
>and slowly raised the smock over her head and laid it on the blanket next
>to
>her.
> "OK," said the older slave, getting to her knees. "Put your feet
>under
>your
>ass like this," and she put her feet under her, with the toes pointing in.
>She then sat on her feet. "Now spread your knees as far apart as you can,"
>she said. Jenny was astonished when she saw that the slave could spread
>her
>legs so far apart that her knees were almost on a line. "Now put your
>hands
>behind your back. You can cross your wrists, if you like." I don't like,
>thought Jenny. "Keep your back straight and your head erect. Look
>straight
>ahead or slightly down, but don't look at the ground right in front of you.
>Finally, stick out your chest. Now you try it."
> Jenny tried to spread her knees apart, but wasn't very successful.
>She
>could see the slave in front of her, and she could see how horribly exposed
>she was. To Jenny it looked gross. Why would her master want her to look
>so gross? she wondered. After some uncomfortable shifting around, Jenny
>got
>in a position that approximated what the older slave had shown her.
> "That's OK for a start, but your master will insist on better
>posture,
>I'm
>sure."
> "I thought you couldn't say what my master would want?" said Jenny a
>bit
>peevishly.
> "I can't, exactly, but I know he'll want you to do better than that."
>The
>older slave sensed Jenny's annoyance. "I'm just here to help you with the
>first few hours. You can listen or not." Jenny decided to listen.
> "I can show you a couple of other things, if you like," said the
>older
>slave
>with a bit of a cringing tone in her voice.
> Why not, thought Jenny. "OK, go ahead."
> "You should never stand up when you're in the presence of a non-slave
>unless
>told to do so. If you are told to stand, you must stand like this." The
>older slave stood, spread her feet nearly two feet apart, and bent over at
>the waist so that her torso was parallel with the ground. Then she
>crossed her wrists behind her back. "You should try this for a while," she
>said. "At first, standing like this for a long time can be uncomfortable."
> "Is this the position you're in when you get punished?" Jenny asked a
>bit
>nervously.
> "Not usually," replied the older woman. "Besides, you'll know what's
>coming
>long before you get into position to be punished. You should keep your
>head
>up when you're bent over like this. That's the hardest part."
> "How long have you been here?" Jenny suddenly asked.
> The older slave
>immediately assumed the sitting position she had first showed Jenny and,
>without making eye contact, said "I'm not allowed to talk about that.
>You'll see that there are some things you musn't talk about." There was a
>note of fear in her voice. "You're master will be here in a few hours.
>When he comes in, make sure you're sitting."
> The older slave got up to
>leave.
> "Wait," said Jenny, "I didn't mean . . ." she stumbled over her words
>for a
>moment, "I'm sorry I asked you that." Jenny was apprehensive at being left
>alone. She also thought the older slave would have more helpful
>information. "Please don't go. I mean, if there's anything else I should
>know, that you can tell me, I'd like to hear it."
> The older slave immediately squatted down again. "I'll tell you what
>I
>can." She paused a moment. "You know what kind of slave you are, right?"
> "A sex slave," Jenny answered quietly, and she again heard her
>friends
>saying "Open wiiiiide."
> "That's right. You're not a lesbian or a virgin, are you?"
> "No," said Jenny quietly, "nothing like that."
> "Good. That will make things a little easier. Your master's job is
>mostly
>to train you about sex. He'll expect you give him a blow job or do
>something sexual every time he sees you. I should warn you up front that
>he
>will probably have a really big cock. All of the masters here have big
>dicks, as far as I know. Don't panic the first time he tells you to blow
>him. He knows you haven't had any training yet and he isn't going to
>demand
>perfection from the start. But don't hold back anything. Just let
>yourself
>go and do everything he says."
> "Will he beat me if I don't do well enough the first time?" asked
>Jenny.
> "If you're so worried about your tail being on the business end of a
>cane or
>a strap, you shouldn't have gambled your freedom. Or are you one of those
>girls that gets turned on by punishment?"
> "No, no, that's not me at all," said Jenny quickly. "Is that what
>they
>usually use, a cane or a strap? What's a cane?"
> The older slave couldn't tell whether Jenny had a child's fear of
>punishment
>or was a submissive that wanted abuse. She had seen both types, many of
>them. Whichever type they were, though, they seemed to get punished more
>than the other slaves. From what the older slave had seen, both types were
>the same, though she rarely heard a fearful slave admit to actually wanting
>punishment.
> "For summary punishment, your master will probably use a cane or a
>strap. A
>cane is a long, thin piece of wood or plastic. But I shouldn't say more
>because all of that is up to your master. If you'll let me tell you what
>to
>expect, I'll tell you what I can. Otherwise, I have to go."
> "Please tell me," said Jenny, almost pleading, "I promise I won't say
>anything else."
> Right, thought the older slave. "As I was saying, just do whatever
>your
>master tells you. He'll lead you through everything, step by step. And
>remember, you're a slave. That will be a little hard to get used to at
>first, but you will. If you obey, behave like a slave, and keep quiet,
>you'll get along."
> Jenny thought about asking what other things were used to punish
>slaves, but
>decided to leave well enough alone. She couldn't think of anything else to
>ask about, though, and after a minute of silence the older slave got up and
>left. Jenny went to the bathroom, then began waiting for her master.
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