4th of July Slave Parade Part 6 by Joe Doe

[imreadonly2]

This was actually inspired by two segments I saw of creepy male anchors ogling female anchors during water park segments. So for those who want to know where I get my ideas, enjoy!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwum9fntH7U&t=50s
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DLE18iUiTbU

Mr. Castellanos, finished with me, shoved me into the mass of naked slave girls, who scattered a bit as I slammed into them. Millie, her voice oozing mock sympathy, said. "Poor little Julia. You look so sad, naked and shackled with the other slave girls. But don't worry, the parade will start in a few minutes, and then you'll be able to show off your hot wet pussy to the entire town. Won't that be nice?"

Before I could respond, the crowd parted as a large black SUV inched its way towards us. The van had the familiar FOX NEWS 5 logo, and a blonde reporter in a very short jean skirt and a very tight Fox 5 T-shirt hopped out. She had that bright, bubbly look that morning news anchors get, and chattered away to the fat segment producer who looked like he hadn't seen the inside of a gym since the last millennium. The sight of her, sexy but dressed, and made up for showtime, made me feel even more naked and exposed.

After a moment, I recognized the anchor - was it Tyler, or Taylor? I had seen her on TV, and she had interviewed me a few times on the courthouse steps, being memorable mostly for the stupidity of her questions. She had asked me how I remembered all the various precedents I had cited in court, why the lighting in the courtroom was "so harsh", why judges always seemed so strict, and who did my hair and makeup.

Seriously. She gave bimbos a bad name.

As the segment producer setup, a monitor so he could see what was happening in the studio, our chirpy news-bunny chattered on about how she wanted to make sure she was in the light, but not too bright so she didn't look "washed out". As she looked like a blonde sunburst, it could be a problem. I rolled my eyes as she began to primp herself, using the window of the van of the mirror.

For me, primping was not an option. Slave naked, with my wrists shackled behind my back to each elbow, I was displayed “naturally”, in every sense.

The cameraman, a young guy with disheveled hair, an untrimmed beard, and a perpetual smirk, set up his camera right in front of us. He licked his lips and smiled as he looked us up and down, making it clear this was his favorite story of the day, if not the month.

Blonde Bimbo, her hair bouncing with every step, walked over to Mr. Castellanos, her smile never wavering as she introduced herself and explained to the uninterested slave monger how famous she was and how he was sure he had seen her and she had done a couple of national segments so he may have even seen her on national TV.

Castellanos, however, was already busy running a chain through the handy eyebolts on the neck of the slave girl on the far end. Running the chain to the next girl he repeated the process. I swallowed. He was hooking us together like fish on a line, and there wasn’t a damn thing any of us could do about it.

Trying to ignore the fettering I watched the cameraman setup a lighting umbrella so our chirpy anchor would look her best. Watching someone setup a TV camera as I stood there, hands locked behind my back, chin up and tits out, created a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Ironically enough, across the street I could see the steeple and front steps of the city hall / court house complex, a large brick building done in the federalist style. I had stood on those steps many times being interviewed by reporters, but the news segment today, although only a few yards away, was going to be very different.

Getting little reaction from Mr. Castellanos, who was entirely focused on his work of knitting us all together like beads on a necklace, our intrepid anchor looked around for someone else to talk to. Spotting Millie's official looking lanyard, she bounced over to the nasty old woman who was the reason I was in this mess and introduced herself.

"Good morning!" she chirped, her voice annoyingly cheerful. "My name is Taylor Robinson and I'm from Fox 5. What a fantastic turnout for the parade! How are you today?"

Millie and Taylor spent the next several minutes bragging about how important they both were, until the segment producer, watching his monitor, interrupted them both for the business at hand. "We wanted to do a remote from the parade, talk about the turnout while we chatted with Matt & Jane back in the studio. Matt thought we should do it here because it's sweeps, and this would drive up the ratings, plus subscribers to our exclusive content website. Plus, Matt likes boobies."

Mr. Castellanos chain in hand, whistled Yankee Doodle as he strung the girl next to me to the coffle, fishing the end of the chain though the eyebolt before pulling the length of the chain through. He was careful to measure distance, leaving enough slack in the chain so that when we jogged down the street we wouldn't trip or run into each other.

Holding the chain up in front of my face he smiled. "You don't remember me, do you, Counselor?" I looked at him, trying to remember. I had nothing.

"There was a town zoning meeting, when Slave Mart was trying to get it's zoning permit. I stood up and said Slave Mart paid good wages and health care, and the people who worked there were good citizens who paid their taxes and were trying to raise their children. You ripped into me, and said that I was a disgusting pimp and a sleazy pervert. My daughter was next to me and started to cry. Do you remember that, Counselor?"

I didn't. I was in no position to defend myself, and explain that ripping people to shreds was my profession. Nor could I lie, lest I be caught in punished. I shook my head, hoping he could see the regret in my eyes.

I gasped as he put his hands between my legs, and slipped his finger into my hot, wet pussy. "Just what I thought. They say anti-slave feminists make the hottest slave pussy. You won't forget me after today, will you, Counselor? I'm the man that stripped you slave naked, and collared you, and ran you naked through town to the auction block, for everyone to see. My name is Lorenzo Castilanos, but you can call me 'Master'".

With an evil grin, Lorenzo finger fucked me while he fished the coffle chain through the collar around my neck and cruelly yanked it through, causing my head to jerk to one side.

"We'll blur out the naughty bits using AI," Taylor explained, as if that made it all right. "They'll have to subscribe to our website to see the whole enchilada!" she giggled, looking at a naked Hispanic girl who was being hooked to the coffle by the slave monger.

Matt and Katie, the news anchors, were live on the air, and I could see them on the large screen Taylor was watching. The segment producer was speaking into a microphone attached to a pack on his belt, and the Taylor nodded as he whispered to her, positioning herself a few feet away and to my right as the segment began.

"Good morning, Matt and Katie!" she exclaimed, her voice chipper and full of grating enthusiasm. "We're live at the marshaling area for the 4th of July parade, and as you can see, it's going to be a hot one! And not just because of the weather."

"Wow, look at you, Taylor, standing with stars of the parade. Don't you feel a bit overdressed?" Matt chuckled.

"Matt, be nice,' his co-anchor Katie scolded.

"I'm here with Millie Helpor, the town clerk, who helped organize today's events. Millie was just telling me how she raised over $100,000 for the local animal shelter, isn't that right, Millie?"

"Yes, that's right," Millie said, grinning into the camera. "It was a lot of hard work, and I had to call a lot of people, but I think you'll see today that the end result was worth it."

"Can you pull the camera back a little?" Matt said. "I'd like to get a head-to-toe show… uh… shot, to see how nicely Taylor and the other girls are dressed for the parade!"

"Matt, you're terrible!" Katie said. "Leave Taylor and those poor girls out of this. You just want to leer at naked slave girls! And lumping poor Taylor in with them that way. That's so mean."

I was familiar with the batter between Matt & Katie. Matt was a sexist pig, and Katie was the voice of reason, pulling him back and scolding him. They had been doing this stupid puppet act together on TV for years. It was bullshit, but it was good TV, as both conservative & liberals had a side to root for, while secretly enjoying either Matt's oinking or Katie's maternal scolding.

The banter in the studio was light hearted, but the blush on Taylor's cheeks was not. She was trying to maintain her composure, but standing in front of 20 naked and shackled girls was clearly unsettling her. In her T-shirt and jeans, she was dressed to please the male viewers, but was thrown off by having even more attractive eye candy standing a few feet behind her.

"Relax, Katie, don't get your panties in a bundle," Matt chuckled. "I'm just helping Taylor do her job, by making sure everyone can see the inventory."

The camera zoomed out as the segment producer gently pulled Mille out of camera range so as to not block the shot. On the monitor I could see the entire line of slave girls, including me, on live TV. Taylor's eyes widened as she realized the awkwardness of the image. She was dressed for the weather, sure, but the sight of her in her tight outfit standing in front of a line of naked women was definitely going to be a memorable image, and not one that she’d want for her career highlight reel.

"Tell us more about the Slave Mart parade segment," Katie said, her voice a bit too bright. "What's the purpose of this fundraising event?"

"Well, Katy," Taylor began, her eyes darting back and forth between the camera and the shackled line of us, "it's a unique way to raise funds for the town. The girls will march in the parade, and then will be sold at the town Gazebo at the conclusion."

"I raised the money for the animal shelter through pledges," Millie shouted from off camera, eager to take the credit. In point of fact, I had raised the pledges, by agreeing to humiliate myself in front of the town. However, I didn't mind Millie taking credit, as it kept the spotlight off me. Naked as a jaybird, I was happy to blend in with my sisters on my chain, and not be noticed.

"The auction is at the Gazebo in Liberty Park, am I right?" Matt said, trying hard to sound like he has something to contribute.

Taylor nodded, her cheeks still flushed. "That's correct. After the parade, the girls will be auctioned off. Plus, a number of the girls are 'slave queens', free women marching for pledges today, with the option of being auctioned later. The pledges will be given to some very worthy causes."

"I'm sure that will be a hit with our viewers," Matt said brightly. "So, tell us, how does Miss Julia James fit into this whole thing? She had pledged to parade if the animal shelter raised $100,000, I believe. Did she have the guts to show up, or did she chicken out?"

"Matt, you're terrible!" Katie scolded.

"I arranged it," Millie said. The segment producer hushed her, explaining that she wasn't on camera or mic, so nobody could hear her anyway. Millie did not look happy, which was the only bright spot in my day.

"I'm not sure if Julia James is here, Matt," Taylor said, genuinely confused. True, she was an idiot, but her bewilderment was understandable. At this point we were all chained together, in no particular order, with our lot numbers written just above our right breast. I was #23, but I was between #14 and #7. To my surprised, my embarrassment, and my relief, I blended in. I prayed the segment would end, and they'd talk about the weather or sports of Matt would call a commercial break so he could run to the bathroom and jerk off. But it was not to be.

"Maybe you can give us a look at each girl, Taylor, so we can see if we camera spot Julia," Matt said, eager to get a good look at the naked female flesh. Maybe place the camera so we can see the girls from tip-to-toe, then pan left to right, nice... and... slow."

"Matt, you're awful!" Katie scolded. "Don't milk this shot!" But it was too late, and the smirking cameraman, eager to please, pointed his camera at the first naked slave girl, who blushed four shades of red. I could tell she was new to her collar.

The camera panned down the line, stopping for a moment on each girl, before moving on. I wondered how good my disguise really was. While I wasn’t a celebrity, I was well known. Did being slave naked, hands behind my back, with a collar around my neck, really make me look that different? I was about to find out.

The camera reached number 14, and I could see the fury in Jennifer's eyes, even though her face was contorted with fear. She had always had a bit of a rebellious streak, and it was clear she was not enjoying her fate. Her shackles jingled slightly as she tugged at them, a silent protest against the injustice of it all.

As the camera moved on to number 7, the Mayor's niece, I felt a pang of pity. She was so young, so innocent. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she looked like a frightened doe caught in headlights. Her skin was pale and covered in goosebumps despite the heat, and her hands trembled causing her breasts to jiggle.

The camera continued its slow, deliberate journey down the line of slave girls. As the camera stopped on each girl, my panic grew. Soon the camera would stop on me, and entire town would see me chained up, slave naked, for one-and-all to see.

At last, the camera stopped on me, revealing me in all my naked glory. I was expecting Taylor, who had interviewed me numerous times, to spot me immediately, as we were staring right at each other. But she gave no hint of recognition. The camera moved on without a mention, and onto the next girl.

How could they not recognize me? The realization hit me like a blast of water. Standing naked, with my arms behind my back, my neck chained to a slave coffle, I looked nothing like myself. Julia James was a high-powered attorney who gave interviews on the courthouse steps, crowing about her next victory. Now I was just another naked number in the lineup, a piece of property to be ogled, sold, and branded. Julia James, the high-powered attorney, was across the street at the courthouse. I was #23, a slave bitch who was about to be paraded through the streets on her way to the auction block.

As any trial attorney will tell you, court is theater, and lawyers play a part. I knew I could play smart, and sympathetic, and tough, but could I play slave girl? Could I actually convince a jury – in this case a jury of news anchors – that I was just another slave girl, naked and chained.

I squeezed my thighs together, relishing the surge of pleasure in my pussy even as my terror mounted. I fooled them. They thought I was a slave girl. I was a slave girl! I had become invisible in plain sight, my identity obscured by the spectacle of my bobbing tits and shaved, slave girl pussy.

Matt chuckled into the camera. "Well, I guess Miss High and Mighty Julia James didn't have the guts to show up," he said, his voice dripping with mock disappointment. "I was really looking forward to seeing her out here, stripped down and marching with the other slave girls."

But before Taylor could say anything, Millie's eyes lit up with malicious glee. She stepped into the camera's view, her finger pointing directly at me. "There she is!" she exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement. "Julia James, the town's very own fancy-pants attorney, with no pants at all!"

The camera swiveled back to me, zooming in with the speed of a shark spotting chum in the water. Taylor, her eyes wide, rushed over and shoved the microphone into my face. "Julia," she gushed, her voice high pitched with excitement, "how do you feel right now?"

I tried to talk, but my mouth was like cotton. I stood there, jaw slack, unable to speak, staring into the camera with a dumb look on my face.

"Well, that's Julia James, folks," Taylor said, her voice filled with amusement. "It seems like we found a mouthy lawyer who is at a loss for words!"

Matt's laugh boomed through the speakers. "Looks like the cat's got your tongue, Julia?" he quipped. "Or should I say, pussy?"

"Matt, you're terrible!" Katie said, playfully punching him in the arm.

The camera remained on me, and the blond reporter, Taylor, leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "It seems like our little attorney here is a bit overwhelmed by all the attention," she said, her voice carrying a hint of mockery. "Julia, can you tell us how you're feeling right now?"

"Nu...Nu... Naked?" I stammered, struggling to pronounce the word.

Matt laughed uproariously from the studio. "Looks like we've got a case of slave-brain," he said, slapping his knee. The live audience laughed with him.

"Oh, Julia," Taylor said, her voice thick with mock pity. "You really don't look like yourself without your power suit and briefcase. And it looks like they took away all your brains, too!" she giggled.

The crowd chuckled at her wit, and I can see the glimmer of power in her eyes as she ogled my naked flesh. Many of them now recognized me, their smiles turning into sneers as they whispered among themselves. Millie stood back, her arms folded over her chest, watching with smug satisfaction as I squirmed on camera.

Taylor took a step closer, and reached out tentatively to touch the iron collar around my neck. Giving it a sharp jerk, she observed, "Wow, this is riveted on. This sure does look permanent!"

"Tell us, Julia," she began, "I saw Mr. Castellano fingering you earlier, and that seemed like slave honey dribbling down your thighs. Are you slave wet?"

I was frozen, unable to respond to the lewd question, my cheeks burning with a mix of anger and embarrassment. How had the tables turned so dramatically? Just days ago, Taylor was chasing me down the hall, begging me for a quote. I was the one with the power. The courtroom was my domain, and Taylor had been eating out of my hand.

Now, I was the one on display, and Taylor was the one in charge. From the smirk on her face, I could tell she was loving every minute of it.

"Answer the question, Julia?” Matt demanded. “Are you slave wet? And remember, you don't want to lie to a free woman!" he teased, emphasizing Taylor's authority over me.

My mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to form a coherent response. But all that came out was a pitiful slobber of words. "Uh...Duh…UhhhU-huh," I whispered. "Slave hot... between my legs!" I gasped. My words were barely audible over the murmur of the crowd, but Taylor's microphone picked it up.

I knew I sounded like an idiot, staring into the camera, slave naked, barely able to speak. But I couldn't help it. “Slave brain” was a real thing, and my words were coming out like mush.

Her eyes gleamed as she leaned in closer, running her finger across the cold collar around my neck. "Slave wet, you say? Oh, I think we're going to have to check that for the viewers at home," she said, smirking with pretend skepticism.

"Here, use this," Millie said, reaching into her purse and producing a slave goad about the size of a flashlight. It was pink, but it was the two metal prongs on the end that made my legs go wide as saucers.

Giggling, Taylor took the prod and held it up for the camera. "Oh, this is PERFECT!" she cooed. "Is it powered up?"

"It's fully charged," Millie said, her eyes gleaming with the joy of a sadist. "Just press the button."

Taylor grinned and pointed the goad in the air, as if studying it. She pressed the button and jumped back with a start as electricity crackled to life between the two spikes. The sound was nasty sizzle. "Oh, my!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise. "It really works!"

I jumped too, in fear. "That got Julia's titties jiggling!" Matt chuckled, as the crowd laughed along.

"Now spread your legs, so I can check to see how wet you are," Taylor said, smirking at me. "Spread 'em, nice and wide, slave girl, or you get the juice!"

"Zap her!" someone in the crowd shouted out. "Right on her big ass."

"Zap her pussy!" another woman joined in. I recognized the voice as Amber’s mom Candi, the former Sandy Foot Girl who was now only in “bikini shape.” It didn’t surprise me – free women were naturally contemptuous of slave girls.

I looked at Taylor with pleading eyes, begging for mercy. But looking into her eyes, I saw only amusement, and the desire for vengeance.

"Oh, Julia," she said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "You're not used to being the one on the hot seat, are you? It's not exactly like when I try to ask you questions at the courthouse, is it? This time, you have to answer... or else!"

I thought back on the many times she had interviewed me. When she interviewed me on the courthouse step, I was the one in charge, and she was the bimbo who didn't understand the proceedings, the law, or even basic civics. Walter had scolded me more than once for making my contempt for her lack of intelligence obvious. "You don't have to make her look like an idiot, Julia," he scolded.

"But that's what she is, Walter, I said, looking over my glasses. "Boobs in a sweater. The only reason she's on TV is her body." I had embarrassed Taylor more than once, and I had enjoyed making the little Fox 5 bimbo look stupid. But now Taylor was the smart one, and I was the naked slave bimbo, on TV because of her body.

My legs trembled as I slowly spread them apart, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. The cool metal of the prod hovered near my pussy, and I could feel the anticipation from the crowd. It was a mix of excitement and fear, and the humiliation was overwhelming.

But as Taylor gently pressed the prod against my inner thigh and began to rub it back and forth, something unexpected happened. My body betrayed me. I felt a warm, tingling sensation start to build, and despite the horror of the situation, my body responded. I gasped, my hips involuntarily pushing against the prod, urging it closer to my clit.

I grunted with pleasure, and pressed against the intruder. "I can't believe it," a spectator shouted. "She's pumping the prod!"

The crowd's laughter grew, and I could see the excitement in Taylor's eyes as she realized she had absolute, total control over my steaming hot pussy. "Oh, it looks like Julia's really enjoying herself," she said, her voice filled with mock sweetness. "Look at those juices flowing!"

"Shock her!" Candi yelled out, her contempt and jealousy dripping from her voice. I wondered how many of Bella’s other friend’s moms were there. I couldn’t see, because my eyes closed as I lost myself in pleasure.

I gasp as Julia pulled the goad out and held it up for the camera. Twisting it in the light, showing the audience at home my shameful juices.

"My goodness, that is one hot, wet sloppy pussy!" Matt agreed. "I wish I was there to bid on that!"

"You can be, Matt," Taylor said, as the producer signaled her to wrap up the overly long segment so they could go to commercial. "Come to the parade, which starts in a few minutes."

"I sure will, as soon as we're off the air. We don't want to miss it!" Katie said, perky as ever.

The segment was done, but Matt, clearly enjoying himself, pressed on. "Hey, Taylor, are you sure you don't want to strip off and join the other girls?" Matt teased. "You'd look hot with a collar around your neck."

"I'm good," Taylor said, laughing nervously, but with a bit of panic in her eyes as the crowd hooted at her, anxious to see Matt's "fun" suggestion put into practice. "Back to you, Matt & Katie."

"We'll be right back, so stay tuned for more fun!" Katie said, smiling into the camera.

Matt leaned into the camera. "Not so fast, Katie, Matt said, holding up his hand. Tell you what, Taylor," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of lust and malice. "Why don't you do a full frontal on number 23, so we can really see what we're working with here."

Taylor looked at him, unsure if he was joking or not. "Matt, the producer says we're out of time. I’m sure we have other stories that..." she protested weakly.

"Come on, Taylor," Matt urged, his eyes gleaming. "Do it for the folks at home. They've donated so much money to see Julia's naked body. It seems only fair."

I blushed crimson as the cameraman pulled back the camera to reveal me naked, tip to toe. On the monitor, I could see Matt’s smug, satisfied smirk as he ogled my bound and naked body.

Matt had interviewed me last year, when I had tried to explain the process for amending the Kentucky State Constitution to him. He said he was surprised that Kentucky had its own Constitution, and I laughed and said I was surprised that he was surprised. He didn't like being laughed at, and got flustered, and went to commercial. Now he was relishing his chance to put me in my place, and see me naked and humiliated, with him enjoying total control.

"Have her jump and down, Taylor," Matt ordered. "Have her give us a gigantic, stupid, slave girl grin, and show us those pearly whites, as she bounces her titties for us."

Taylor hesitated, but seeing the segment producer nod, a grin spread across her face. Holding out her cattle prod, she slipped it between my legs, rubbing my pussy. I felt a spasm of pleasure from the cool metal rubbing my button even as I shuddered at the thought of what a slave prod to the pussy might feel like.

"Come on, Julia, jump!" she urged, tapping the prod up against my clit, as if I were a dog she was trying to get to walk on its hind legs. "Show us that slave girl booby-bounce!"

"Yeah, make those dairies dance!" Matt said, picking up on the alliteration, even though I doubted he knew what alliteration meant. "And don't forget to smile all nice and pretty, like the booby-buffoon you really are!"

Seeing Taylor’s finger near the button that control the electricity, I forced my mouth into an exaggerated smile, baring my teeth like a village idiot. Then, I began to jump up and down, the chain on my throat clinking in rhythm with my bouncing tits. The crowd hooted, yelling I should “shake ‘em” and “honk those hooters.” I tried not to focus on faces, and stared at the courthouse steps, the scene of so many of my legal triumphs. But I couldn’t help but hear their voices.

“See how she’s grinning? She really likes it!”

“They can’t help it. They crave the humiliation. They say a slave girl’s happiest moment is on the block.”

It wasn’t true! I hated it, and hated what they were doing to me. I couldn’t help the fact that my pussy was on fire, and my juices were dribbling down my thighs.

Taylor giggled, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Look at her go, folks!" she said into the microphone. "Julia James, the naked lawyer, putting on quite the show for us! You don't look so high-and-mighty now. Who’s the bimbo now?"

The crowd continued laughing and hooting, and I could see people pointing and taking photos with their phones. The humiliation was complete. My dignity, my career, my life as I knew it, was over, and here I was, jumping like a mindless slut for the entertainment of the town. “Walter might as well put me on the block after this,” I thought, before pushing the thought form my mind.

I kept jumping, the cold metal of the prod pressing against my clit, sending waves of unwanted pleasure through me. I grinned like an idiot, showing off the teeth I had spent so much money on. Each bounce sent a jolt through my body, mixing fear and arousal into a toxic cocktail that had me on the edge of orgasm.

Matt's voice grew more insistent. "Faster, Julia! Faster!" he called out, like a ringmaster at a degrading circus. And I obeyed, bouncing harder, my breasts jiggling obscenely. The crowd's cheers grew louder, egging me on, and I couldn't help but feel like a mindless toy, dancing for their amusement.

As I jumped, my mind reeled, trying to grasp the surreal situation. The newsreaders whom I had often dismissed as a bubble-headed airheads now had the power to make me perform like a circus animal. My years of education, my legal acumen, my reputation as a shrewd negotiator - all of it meant nothing as I bobbed up and down, my breasts. I had become the very thing I looked down upon: a mindless bimbo, my thoughts reduced to a jumble of fear and unwanted arousal.

The other girls near me were being jerked by my chain, and so they bounced a little, then a lot, as they began dancing with me. Soon the whole coffle was dancing, and grinning, entertaining the crowd. We were separated into two groups: clothed people with power, and helpless naked slave girls. I was no longer in the former, but was firmly in latter, and my sisters were the only ones with sympathy for my plight. I felt a reassuring bond with them, and with every slave girl who had gone before. Even as my old alliances were being shattered, a new family had arisen to take its place.

Katie's voice finally cut in. "I know you could watch this all day, but we really need to go to commercial Matt."

Matt's laugh echoed through the speakers, his eyes never leaving my jiggling tits. "You're right, Katie. We wouldn't want to miss the pet parade, especially since our very own Julia is part of it. Let's get this show on the road, folks! It's time for the animals, including our dogs and cats and pussies, to strut their stuff."

[asdfgh2091]

Thanks for your wonderful story. But there might be a slight bug in the system:

Taylor not Julia has the goad in

I gasp as Julia pulled the goad out.

Okay that could be missunderstood. Even julia has the goad in her. Taylor pulled it out.

Is Taylor the next one in the coffle? She is already slave dumb.

But nevertheless thank you.

[lovethissite]

Great job Joe. Now bring on the parade and sale.

[asdfgh2091]

Hello, it's me again.

Lorenzo Castilanos was Mr. Vito Castellanos in Part 5. I presume that they are the same man.

Julia "was between #14 and #7" in the coffle. But was not between them as the camera panned down the line.

Nevertheless I must thank you for your story again.

[cardman314]

Loving it. I can't wait for the auction. I wish I could get into the heads of my characters as deeply as you do. The segment where she is on camera being stimmed by the cattle prod is a classic. I wonder if a judge with a grudge will use the footage of her arousal as evidence to declare her enslaved by her own "hot-for-the-collar" actions. I can just see it now how you bring out her total humiliation and defeat and maybe have her branded or tattooed live on TV after her auction.

[Jim927]

Another great chapter, Joe. Well worth the wait. I so appreciate you sharing your talent for writing with us. Please continue this story to the end. Thanks,
Jim.

[Mr. Smith]

Great chapter. Loved the clips.

The fat segment producer called out, "Hey Taylor, management wants you to get in on the action and do your next report live from within the coffle."

Taylor's eyes bugged out with fear, even as her drippy wet pussy throbbed at the thought, "But I'd have to get slave naked to do that!"

"After reminding management of those segments in your bikini Katie suggested, and Matt agreed, that this would be perfect for you. Management already signed you up to raise money for the animal shelter. Katie donated the first grand. You're already over ten grand in donations."

Sounding worried Taylor squealed, "Hank, tell Mr. Paulson that I'll lose my journalistic credibility if I do that!"

"Katie though you'd say that and pulled up that water slide segment you did two weeks ago, the one where you're dancing like a stripper flaunting your body for the camera. That convinced him you were perfect investigative reporter for this assignment."

"Getting slave naked isn't in my contract!" retorted Taylor.

"Mr. Paulson told me that if that dog don't hunt he'll find one that will. He told that intern Cindy that she could have your job if she did it. She's the airhead hottie with the big rack from the local community college. Isn't that your alma mater where you got your AA ten years ago? Well, she jumped at the opportunity to become an investigative reporter with Fox5 before she turned twenty with youthful enthusiasm. Turns out she's a bona fide Sandy Foot Girl and has the brand on her ass to prove it. She'll be here in less than five minutes. Mr. Paulson told me to tell you that you're fired if you're not slave naked getting collared by the time she arrives. Matt suggested putting both of you into the coffle and the Any Chance auction to see which of you gets the higher hammer price."

I just gotta say, that clip with the reporter strutting her stuff in her bikini, even wiggling her ass for the camera was a thing of beauty. Where do you find these? Did she do a segment on the new stripper pole workout classes that were all the craze a few years ago.

[Jim927]

I just wanted to compliment Mr. Smith on a great addition to Joe’s story.
Jim

[JustBob]

I have to join with Mr. Smith. I was expecting Taylor to end up naked and collared. Maybe next chapter.

[Mr. Smith]

I just have visions of Taylor giving Matt slave kisses to get his support to replace Katie who is aware of Taylor's scheming. Katie maneuvers Taylor onto the auction block to get rid of her. Then there is Cindy, who wants Taylor's job also giving Matt slave kisses in his dressing room hoping to get his support. Matt's getting blown by all three proving his stud status or that stacked bimbos will do anything to get ahead. But Katie is also on her knees making the big boss Mr. Paulson's day. If we want to make Carl's day she's letting him plunder her dookie hole. I just have visions of a slave block dance off ending up with both of our intrepid investigative reports getting sold with monthly updates on their enslavements carried on the Fox 5 podcast for adults only. I'm just not sure who gets to be the ponygirl. Then again, I suspect that Joe could easily take this in another direction entirely much to our reading pleasure. I need to get back to my Chrstmas Coed who is currently on her knees with her lips wrapped around Master Darwin's shaft giving her first ever slave tip to completion as i figure out how to work in nipplegasms and pussy slaps. I just need to figure out if the gully washer pouring out of her runny gutter is hotter than a stolen tamale or a jalapeño's armpit. I'm doing a poor job of keeping my nose out of other folk's chili.

After the Cold Play Kiss Cam story I've learned a new term, "Side Chick", the girl you're screwing on the side. I wonder if there is a story there in the legal slavery universe.

[imreadonly2]

I'm traveling this weekend, so I won't get back to this for a while. But I did want to respond to the many kind comments.

Thank you, Mr. Smith, as always, for the wonderful inspiration. I have no further plans for Taylor, but the town has many parades, and that might make a great future story.

One of the challenges is that I have an idea, and as I start writing I have more ideas, and add more characters, and soon it turns from a quick writing exercise into a Dickens novel I have no time to complete. This story, believe it or not, is "written" but it has expanded so much I'm obviously struggling to get to the middle, let alone the end. The original version ends with her completing the race (no auction) and her saving that for another parade. But who knows?

Thank you for the grammar fixes. I haven't gotten to them yet, but certainly will. Carl used to do an amazing job translating my stories back into English, and one of the disadvantages of writing super fast is you mess up all sorts of things. So any help is appreciated!

Side Slave is an interesting accessory to Side Chick. Again, more inspiration. THANKS EVERYONE!

[RegressedNegress]

Just expressing my thanks and appreciation for Part 6 and the 4th of July Slave Parade as a whole.

[Mr. Smith]

I understand how a short writing exercise can turn into a novel. My Christmas Coed was just supposed to be a single chapter and now thanks in part to your inspirational "Taylor" comment I have posted three chapters and have around fifty pages just covering a slave kiss in the hallway, breeding and branding. Sometimes you just have to wind down a character's story arc. How about the below conversation between Julia and Walter?

“What happened to the two reporters?” asked Julia. “I saw them stripped and joined the parade and then they participated in an Any Chance Auction.”

Walter chuckled, “Fox 5 put them both up for auction, promising to sell one of them based on viewer feedback after the high bid for each of them was established with a promise of regular stories from the enslaved investigative reporter following their time wearing the collar. This only increased the hammer prices for businesses looking for the free publicity.

“That’s smart,” replied Julia, “Who were the top bidders?”

“The stallion farm Ashford Stud was the high bid for Cindy, winning a bidding war with the Kentucky Horse Park . Both wanted her for their ponygirl operation. Ashford Stud were the ones that purchased the breeding rights to Justify, the 2018 Triple Crown winner for $60 million. They have the ponygirls available for the owners of the brood mares ” replied Walter.

“With her large breasts and athletic ass she’d look good as a ponygirl,” giggled Julia.

“I’d love to see bells hanging from her nipples,” quipped Walter.

“What about Taylor? I would have voted to sell her,” snickered Julia, her disdain for the reporter evident.

“The local Whips and Stick Bordello was the high bid. As part of their bid they offered to auction off her first discipline session to raise more money for the animal shelter,” added Walter.

"So, which one did they sell," asked Julia, her impatience evident.

Walter paused, his eyes twinkling with mirth, “Both, they sold both after the record viewer demand. The Slave Channel wants to do a documentary in conjunction with Fox 5 on the two. Hoda Kotb is even coming out of retirement to do a series of remote special Today Show stories with Jenna Bush Hager. They want to interview you since you started it all. By the way, the donations for the animal shelter have gone out the roof since this story hit the national news cycle.”

“Let’s start a Go Fund Me page!. I want to be the high bid to discipline Taylor!” exclaimed Julia, imagining how much fun she would have with the reporter that had tormented her with asinine questions.