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Charlotte – Arrival, Part 02

"Slavery is evil. But it can be fun-evil or evil-evil. I vote for having fun."
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ZeeChromosome
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Charlotte – Arrival, Part 02

Post by ZeeChromosome »

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Charlotte – Arrival, Part 02
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Bert
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Once the lotioning was finished, Monica took up the slave's leash again and began leading her out of the hygiene corral. Cassie began to follow and immediately noticed that they had attracted an audience. The same pair of truckers from before were standing at the fence by the gate, grinning at them. It gave Cassie quite a shock to see them there, even though she knew that their activities must have been observed, given the number of trucks in the lot.

The two men were leaning against the fence in the classic playground pose with their fingers hooked in the wire mesh above their heads. The one on the left was a beefy redneck type around the age of 40 with a fresh crew cut that emphasized the greasy folds on his neck. He was leering lasciviously at the naked girl, displaying his yellow, tobacco-stained teeth. Next to him was a younger, shorter Latino man with a surprisingly attractive face and an oddly sympathetic smile.

As the three women approached the duo, the fat redneck waggled a folded bill through the fence and said, “Hey there honeys, seems like you got a hot little piece of slave meat there. How's about I give you ten bucks gas money and you can have her suck me and my partner off?”

Cassie was outraged. They had already told him “No”! Her friend Charlotte was NOT a five-dollar whore! How DARE he...

“Make it twenty for each of you and you've got a deal,” responded Monica without missing a beat. In direct contrast to Cassie’s instinctive fury, she sounded almost bored, as though she were a grocer informing a random shopper that potatoes were $1.89 a pound, not $1.79 a pound.

Cassie was startled by this blasé attitude toward bartering sexual services, causing her to hesitate half a step. Consequently, she fell slightly behind the other two women while Monica continued to stride confidently toward the two men, dragging the suddenly reluctant slave girl behind her. She hadn’t missed a step. This was totally normal for her. For her, bartering for a young woman’s virtue was no different from selling a sack of potatoes.

Apparently, Cassie's friend Charlotte was in fact a whore now. A slave whore, a $20 slave whore, and not a $5 slave whore, but still a slave whore. Cassie's world view took another tumble. This sort of thing just didn't happen to girls she knew. It didn't happen in comfortable upper middle-class suburbs, it happened.... elsewhere. She didn't know WHERE is happened, she just knew that it happened somewhere else. Either that, or people just didn't talk about it? Could that be the case? Maybe she had just been turning a blind eye to this entire business of slavery her whole life? Sure, naked and leashed slaves were a fact of life. Cassie had seen them at the mall, in restaurants, at the beach and even the community pool. But she never really stopped to consider where these girls came from. Or if she did, she assumed that they were from "elsewhere".

On the other hand, there was a guy in her class who made a website to track girls from their school district who had ended up in a collar. She needed to get to the bottom of this and find out how many girls like Charlotte from outwardly comfortable middle-class homes were being lured into slavery by recruiters like Monica.

The hygiene corral had a narrow entrance that only allowed passage by one person at a time. Cassie, already lagging a bit, fell in behind the other two as Monica pulled the leashed slave through the gate.

The fat redneck's grin had somehow become even broader as they approached. He reached out and squeezed Charlotte's tit hard. It must have hurt, because the girl let out a pained gasp. If something like that had ever happened to Charlotte in any other circumstance, Cassie would have rushed furiously to her aid. But she couldn't. She wanted to… but she couldn’t. The rage and the desire were there, but Cassie held back. Charlotte was a slave now and pinching and groping were daily facts of life for slave girls. What had been unthinkable treatment only minutes ago when Charlotte was a free woman had suddenly become the slave girl's new normal. It tore at Cassie’s heart, but she had to accept that Charlotte was a slave who should be treated this way. Not because Charlotte was bad, but simply because she was a slave now.

“Tell you what,” the redneck said, “we’ll give you $15 each. Lemme take her back to my truck and then when she's done, Emilio can have his shot, how does that sound? My name's Bert, by the way.”

“No, I have a better idea, Bert,” Monica told him calmly as she walked past without turning her head, pausing, or otherwise noticing on the brutal pinch. “We'll go to that picnic table over there on the end. The windbreak will give you privacy from anyone in the car parking lot and the buildings over there. It's what we normally use here. My boss paid a lot of money for this girl and I'm not letting her out of my sight.”

“Huh, all right. I've seen that done before, I guess it's all right. As long as you don't do it in front of the tourists, nobody will mind. Let's get this little hottie on her knees where she belongs. Too bad you don't have more time, I'd love to try out that tight little coochie of hers,” he continued as he cheerfully slapped the slave's ass on the way across the parking lot. “Nice tight little ass, too. You got a buyer in mind?”

“She'll be auctioned off later today at the Pony Rancher's Association's quarterly auction. I work for the HH Ranch and we're planning on buying her and putting her to work as a pleasure pony.”

“A 'pleasure pony', huh? Isn't that for old skanks so ugly that you need to put a bag over their heads and make 'em pull wagons or something?”

“No, although some people think that. The Ranch is a high-class establishment, catering to wealthy clientele, they expect better quality. So it's worth our while to purchase a higher grade of slave for our herd. This one is perfect, she's young, athletic, and attractive. We'll be able to keep her busy servicing clients all year long.”

Following behind the group, Cassie couldn’t help but notice that Monica had used the word “servicing” instead of “serving”. Charlotte wasn’t going to be a servant; she was going to be a whore.

While they were talking, they had reached the covered picnic area. The table that they went to, like the others, was supported by an L-shaped wall that provided a windbreak against the prevailing western and northern winds. That was an important design feature on this windswept prairie location. Perhaps coincidentally, perhaps by design, the abbreviated wall also provided a small measure of protection from prying eyes. A person sitting in the leftmost seat was entirely concealed from the car parking area and the rest stop buildings.

Wasting no time, Bert quickly dropped his greasy jeans down around his ankles and plopped his fat, hairy, pimply ass down on the seat. Truck driving is a sedentary job and truck drivers generally survived almost entirely on fast food. Everything about his body testified to that, whether he wanted it to or not. “Gitcher little mouth on this cock, slave cunt,” he demanded.

“Money first,” Monica responded, tightening her grip on the leash to hold the frightened slave girl in place.

“Right, right, here ya go.” He handed her a five and a ten. Cassie was surprised when Monica turned and immediately handed her the money.

“Hold this, I'll handle the slave, you keep watch.”

So there Cassie was, holding the money. The money that had been paid for the sexual services of her best friend. She was complicit, she was a part of this. She was whoring out her best friend so that Monica could have some extra gas money.

Cassie felt like a betrayer. Charlotte had asked her for a favor last night without telling her what the favor was. Whatever it was, whatever she needed, Cassie would be there for her. She told her that. The painful stress in her friend’s voice had almost been too much for her to bear. So she agreed, sight unseen. She had always been Charlotte's loyal friend. And now, here she was, participating in the degradation and whoring of that very same friend. She felt terrible.

"Rag?"

"Huh? Cassie looked down at Monica's outstretched hand, confused.

"The rag, give me the rag. We just talked about this, we need to keep the slaves unmarked, they sell better that way. This concrete is really rough, so I'm going to use it as a padding for her knees."

"Oh, umm, sure" Cassie handed her the rag, which only minutes ago had been her best friend's t-shirt. Now it was just a rag, of course. Mere minutes ago it had covered Charlotte's modesty and made her look cute and fashionable. Now it was just a dirty rag to be used to protect a nameless slave's knees from getting scraped on the rough pavement. Not for her own comfort; so that she retained her value to her owners, and so that her sexual services were easier to sell.

The slave knelt between the stranger's thick, hairy thighs and looked at his exposed cock. She had seen the occasional cock before… well, she had seen two up close. And sucked on both of them. But that was Bobby Granger and Shawn Jarillo, both of whom were sexy boys her own age. This cock belonged to a man who was easily twice her age, twice her weight, and... she noticed as she leaned into his crotch with her mouth open... somewhat smelly. Apparently driving a truck in the hot Texas sun for hours on end was a sweaty occupation. Trying not to gag and trying to keep her grossed out expression carefully hidden from the "customer", she took it in her mouth. She didn’t quite manage to hide her disgust, but in the end it didn’t matter as his protruding beer gut hid her face from him. She could do this, the slave thought. She knew it was going to be part of the deal. She knew that she was going to have to service a lot of unattractive men for the next two years when she signed that contract.

“Oh yeah, baby!” exclaimed Bert as he roughly grabbed her ponytail and crammed her face down onto his smelly pole. “That's it, nothing better than a freshly-enslaved teenage girl. You know what, lady, I used to have your job, shipping slave meat all over the place. Yeah, that was great, slave tips are the best. I have to pay for it now that I have a real job, but man, those were good times! Gotta feed the wife and kids you know, shipping actual cargo pays better 'cuz there's no slave tipping. Unless you want to use a warehouse worker or something. But those are almost always guys and the female ones might as well be guys. I ain’t no faggot, no sirree. Man, I bet this slut was a cheerleader. Yeah man, I bet she sucked off the entire football team after every game. Sluts like this, the slave collar is the only uniform they need, but man, yeah, oo, wow, those hot sexy little skirts the cheerleaders wore. Oh yeah, huh! Huh! HUH! Aaaaahgh... oh my, YES! Take it all in your filthy mouth, slutcakes, that's right, that’s high-quality golden man seed right there, best of the best!”

Fortunately for the kneeling slave, Bert got so excited by watching her being pleasured - also by the anticipation of his upcoming blowjob - that he didn’t last long. Unfortunately for her, it was far more of a face fuck than a blowjob. She didn’t think that she had managed to apply any suction at all before his orgasm. Instead, she was just trying to control the invading cock. She wasn’t aware of it, but she did it exactly right. She held her lips in an “O” around his cock and tried to control it with her tongue by pushing it up against the roof of her mouth. His excitement and the tight fit she managed to create with her mouth brought him to a climax quickly.

Throughout his self-aggrandizing and profane monologue, he retained his grip on the kneeling slave girl's ponytail and simply rammed her head up and down on his cock. Gasping and struggling for breath with her forehead repeatedly impacting the bottom of his beer belly, the slave just tried to keep pace and give him enough pleasure to make him finally stop. It was an awful introduction to slavery, but she was strong and determined to learn how to handle anything that the world threw in her direction. Servicing callous and egotistical sex partners was definitely going to be a significant part of her future for the next two years. Instead of letting her horrified emotions take control over her actions, she decided to treat it like a learning experience. "This is how you please a selfish jerk and make him happy," she thought. "Day one, transaction one. Check the box.” The creature clutching her ponytail and ramming her face down over and over again wasn’t really a person to her, he was an object, a source of revenue for her owner. Just a thing to please and make go away. It was a complete reversal of the usual slave narrative, in which the slave is dehumanized and the Master is supreme. No, this creature taking advantage of her vulnerability was most certainly NOT a person. It was an “it”, and nothing more.

When the man's cock began to throb in orgasm, she was finally able to wrap her lips around the base and form a seal so that she could catch every drop. She swallowed it all as quickly as she could without letting it pass over her tongue. Only the back of her tongue was exposed to his oil. She knew that most free men expected slave girls to hold their semen in their mouths, ostentatiously savoring it before displaying it for their viewing pleasure and then waiting for the command to swallow. But she just couldn’t figure out how to do it at this angle, with her mouth pointed straight down, the wide posture collar holding her neck rigidly in place, and the aggressive ogre ramming her face up and down as he spewed. So she did the next best thing she could think of; she swallowed it all as it came out.

“Hah, that's right you dirty little slit," he said, "now show me my load before you swallow it.”

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Emilio
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As an experienced slave handler, Monica knew that the slave had already swallowed the trucker's seed. Instead of risking him getting angry with the slave girl while she was within arm's reach, she pulled the slave to her feet by the large D-ring on the back of her collar and then guided her a few steps away. Pony collars are very wide and cover the entire throat from clavicle to chin, which made this move possible without choking the slave.

“You paid for a blowjob and you got a blowjob,” she said calmly and turned to the other trucker who had averted his eyes and walked a short distance away at the beginning of the Bert's session.

“Next,” she said with the bored tone of voice that one might hear at a fast-food joint.

Emilio turned around with a cheerful smile on his face. Cassie was impressed by his good looks. He reminded her a lot of Shawn Jarillo, who had been Charlotte's prom date this year. The hair was different, but they both had the same Tejano good looks and the same friendly smile.

“What luck! She thought, “Maybe this guy won't be as horrid." She gave her friend a concerned glance. Charlotte's face had that particular closed-off expression she made when she had been unfairly criticized or insulted. Cassie knew that she was trying not to look hurt. That fat turd said some pretty mean things to her, and Cassie had been helpless to protect her. Cassie wasn't really upset that Charlotte had been ordered to suck the man's ugly dick. After all, she had voluntarily become a slave and that's what slaves did. No, Cassie was upset that the man thought it would be fun to insult and degrade her in the process. Charlotte didn’t deserve that!

While Bert was pulling up his pants, Monica moved the slave a bit further away to give him room.

Emilio offered Monica a half full bottle of Coke. “Rinse and spit?” he said.

Most men wouldn't have given any thought regarding the slave's feelings about having a stranger's cum coating her tongue, but this one did.

“Why thank you,” Monica responded. The slave's hands were still cuffed behind her, so she accepted the bottle and it to her lips. “Slave, open your mouth, and drink,” she told her. “Don’t swallow, just slosh it around. Good, now over here, bend over, spit in the grass. Well done.”

“Hey, that's my spooge she's spitting out!” Bert exclaimed angrily as he finished pulling his pants up. “I want my money back!”

Both Cassie and Monica were about to retort when Emilio smoothly interjected. “Naw man, she already swallowed it. That means the sale is final. I was just rinsing her mouth out so I don't have to put my dick in your goo. That's gay.”

Emilio's incontrovertible logic stopped Bert’s anger in its tracks. “You're right, I guess I never thought of it that way, good thinkin’. Ain't nothin' homo 'bout neither one of us.”

“Precisely,” agreed Emilio. “Now if I may have some privacy, I'd like to get some action so we can get back on the road.”

“Uh yeah, sure,” the big man said as he turned his back on the group and moved off.

Still smiling, Emilio dropped his trousers and sat on the bench. Cassie immediately noticed that he had a longer, but slightly thinner cock than the first trucker. She also saw that it was almost entirely hairless, with only a few thin pubic hairs surrounding the base.

Monica guided the slave girl back onto her knees between the young man's legs. In the process, she turned to check on the distance between the group and Bert. He had wandered away toward the trucks, smoking a cigarette and looking at his phone. The relentless prairie wind blew a wafting of tobacco smoke and diesel exhaust in their direction.

“How long have you been free?” she asked the young man kindly.

He gave her a wry, sad smile. “Six months now, and grateful for every day of it. Do you mind if I give your slave some pointers? I'm an excellent cocksucker. Not by choice, of course, but to survive.”

“Sure, we'll give her lessons on pleasing clients once she reaches the ranch, but extra training never hurts.”

“Good,” Emilio replied with satisfaction as he reached forward and cupped the kneeling slave's chin in his hand. He gently raised her downcast face to look him in the eyes. “Hi, my name is Emilio, and I will be your customer today. You're probably wondering how your owner knew that I used to be a slave. That's easy. You see my crotch? Almost no hair at all. It will eventually grow back some day, but I was a slave for three years and I was kept smooth. Some men like their boys hairy, and we had those, too. But I was 'smooth boy'. Three years of using depilatory cream means that the hair might never fully come back. That's why I wanted Bert out of the way. I don't want my partner to know that I was a slave, you understand? He might assume that I was some kind of cocksucker or something. We don’t want that, right?”

The slave nodded thoughtfully. It might happen to her as well. She might be forever marked as a former slave just by the simple fact that her pubic hair might never grow back. Right now, she had no body hair whatsoever. Her mother, Angela, had spent serious money on a full waxing at a salon just before her 18th birthday. Although Charlotte hadn't wanted to be slave graded before graduation, Angela didn't give her a choice. She also hadn't told Charlotte that the salon would use depilation cream on her afterwards. Charlotte probably wouldn't be able to grow any body hair for months. If her mother paid extra for the permanent follicle killing treatment, it would never grow back. The size of the bill and the fact that the salon slaves wouldn't tell her what they were smearing her with had been her first clue that her mother wasn't preparing her for a simple slave grading. Angela was preparing her for sale.

There had been other signs as well once Charlotte started snooping. Charlotte didn't know exactly what Angela's plans were, but the evidence was all there. Everyone knew the stories about girls who were tricked, trapped, and coerced into long-term or even permanent slavery. Technically, voluntary indentures and debt slavery had a maximum term of seven years, but there were ways around that. Her fear of the unknown and the feelings of utter betrayal toward her mother had stampeded Charlotte directly into Boss Monica's arms. And now here she was, naked and on her knees at a highway rest area, giving a stranger a blowjob for money. Money that wasn't even going to her. She gave him a tentative smile.

“Nice, you have a pretty face and a nice smile,” Emilio said. “I'm going to teach you a few tricks of the trade. You'll probably learn more from the other slaves, but this will give you a good start. The first thing you do is make sure that you are always impressed by your client's amazing penis. It's always amazing and you're always delighted to see it... every time. It's been days since you last saw him, and you were counting the hours. So, let's try that, look at my wonderful cock and then look up into my face as though I'm the most generous man in the world for gifting you with this exciting career opportunity.”

The slave did just that. She looked down at the erect cock before her, gave it an admiring glance, then looked up at the smiling man on the park bench and gave him a completely-unfeigned flirtatious smile. He really was so much nicer and more pleasant than his partner. And he did look a lot like her prom date, Shawn Jarillo.

“Good, good,” Emilio continued, “now you want to lick it all over. Start with lollipop licks and then go to the balls. Some men like that, some men don't. Just try to figure it out as you go. The reason for the lollipop licks it twofold. One reason is of course to stimulate the shaft and get it ready for what comes next. The other reason is to make it wet. You're coating it with saliva for your next move. Pull your tongue back in your mouth like you're savoring it and coat it with saliva again for your next lick. While you're doing that, try to look at my face as much as possible. As long as the customer can see you gazing adoringly up at him, he will be happy. You need to sell it, make him believe that you really want to be here on your knees worshipping at the altar of the Church of My Amazing Cock. That's right, very good. If he's too horrible or hateful to look at, focus on his nose or the mole on his chin while pretending that his face doesn't even exist. Or you can imagine another person's face over top of his. Do what you have to do to be convincing. Nearly all men think that their own personal cock is a gift from the heavens, so the task is an easy one.”

“Nice work,” he said encouragingly. “Now we need to make it wetter, so you're going to go deep and force the head of this thing as far back into your throat as you can without gagging. This will stimulate the saliva glands and make your mouth even wetter. You might do this once or twice and then switch back to licking while gazing upward at your beloved lord and master. Exactly like that. Don't forget to lick your lips to lubricate them also before your next step.”

“Now that the shaft is wet enough and you have worked up enough saliva, you want to start the main event. Get as much in your mouth as possible and cup your tongue around the underside of my cock, pressing up against the roof of your mouth. Like that, only softer. You have a lot of cocks to suck today and you don't want to tire your tongue out. All you need to do is create just enough friction. Believe me, with practice and experience, you can suck cock almost all day without getting tired. But that takes time, so pace yourself well in the early days. Only you can know what your limits are.”

“Good, good, keep bobbing your head up and down like that. Focus on my pleasure, watch my hips move, listen to my moans and sighs so you know when I'm getting close, which is now. Some men's ball sacks crinkle up when they're getting close. You have two choices here. If I'm someone like Bert, you want to speed it up so that he will finish and go away. But if I'm a long-time client that you like, you want to pause, pull back and smile up into my eyes so that I've just seen your smiling face when I cum. That's what brings the good ones back for more. Now finish the job.”

Cassie watched in amazement as Emilio gave the new slave a master class in the art of fellatio. He was a natural born teacher, combining all the best qualities of the various teachers and coaches she had encountered in her school years. She had just never imagined that she would encounter a situation in which coaching and sex would be combined. “I guess it makes sense,” she thought, “if someone needs to do something right, then it gets taught. If it gets taught, there must be teachers.”

Boss Monica was also impressed and intrigued. The young man was a natural. The HH Ranch's business model relied heavily on a high turnover of young, fresh-faced ponies serving short term voluntary indentures. It was Monica's job to find them and lure them in. But since most of them were very young, often just out of high school, they were also quite inexperienced. Some clients preferred that, but others didn't. Matching clients' preferences to their ponies’ abilities was important. Currently, the ranch relied on on-the-job training and didn't have a structured approach to teaching the art of sex to its ponies. Perhaps that was something that could be improved. She decided to approach Ms. Valdez with a proposal and also, give this young man a business card. Even if they didn't need a full time fellatio teacher, she felt that the occasional one-day seminar might be useful.

The kneeling slave went at it with a will, enthusiastically bobbing her head up and down and then slurping, sucking, and swallowing the resulting ejaculate. She was still unable to save and display his semen at this angle, but she didn't think he would mind. Once he was done, she left him gasping and groaning in pleasure as she gently nursed the spent shaft in her mouth.

“Ah! Good, very good pequeña," he sighed. “That was so very good. You'll do well with an attitude like that. Always do your best and hope for the best. It's the only thing that you can do, so do it well.”

Monica pulled the slave to her feet as Emilio rose and buckled up.

“One last thing,” he said to the slave girl, catching her eye, “we use these words interchangeably; 'client' and 'customer', but they are not the same thing. A customer is any penis that walks in off the streets. You give them your best and then they go away. But a ‘client’ is something completely different and far more valuable. A client is person who walks in off the street and asks for you specifically. If they're kind and gentle, then they are of great value to you. They are someone who imagines that they have a relationship with you. This is important because it keeps Madame happy, and she is the most important person in the world to you. You do NOT want to be sold and risk falling even further in life. So, find good clients, make them happy, make them feel special, and your safety will never be in doubt. And you know, maybe the cliente can help you after you get out. I got this job - and it's a good job - through the influence of a longtime client. He knew I was going to be free soon and he made sure that there was a job waiting for me. Switching from free person to slave is hard, it is difficult, but transitioning back to freedom can be even harder without the right support. I can't go back to my family. I can't go back to my old neighborhood. Everyone knows where I've been for the past three years. But when you're making a new life for yourself afterwards, then every good person you meet on the inside who is willing to help you afterwards is a true treasure, never to be forgotten.”

He handed the soft drink bottle to Cassie, “Now rinse and spit, and good luck.”

With that, he turned and walked away.

“Here, hold the leash for a second,” Monica told Cassie as she jogged after him to hand him her business card.

Cassie stood there a bit surprised, holding the leash. The leash around her best friend's neck. She was holding her friend on a leash! What kind of terrible person would do that? Then she remembered that Monica had said that the leash wasn't just to control the slave, it was also to protect the slave. With this new perspective in mind, she glared about protectively as she held up the bottle of warm Coke up to the slave's lips. Cassie was in charge of this slave and she was going to protect her!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Dear Departed
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Monica soon returned. The slave was still spitting out the mouthful of warm Coke.

“All right,” she said briskly, “time to get this show on the road. Cassie, thanks for your help. No, don't give me the money, you've earned it. You brought my slave to me, you helped me get her lotioned up and assisted me in rewarding her for her good behavior. So the money is yours, put it in your pocket and get a tank of gas and some snacks on the way home. It's almost lunchtime and you're probably famished. Also, you have my business card now. If you're interested in working at the ranch, give me a call. I think you're a natural at it and I guarantee you'll make a lot more money. Heck, the tips alone would be worth more than you're currently getting paid at the pool. Plus, there's perks. Nothing better than some good pussy-licking to round out a long day at the ranch. Any questions?”

While she was talking, Monica began slowly leading the hobbled pony toward her truck. Cassie realized that she was watching her good friend Charlotte slipping away from her.

“Umm, yeah, I have a couple of questions,” she began while following pair. “How did you know that guy used to be a slave? Is he gay, is that why he knows so much about giving blow jobs?”

“Former slaves have tells, it's just like in poker. No matter how much you try to hide it, a slaver can always tell that you're an ex-slave. So can former slaves. Sometimes it's subtle, sometimes it's obvious, especially if they haven't been free for very long. That last guy was obvious because of the sparse pubic hair. Other times it might be the tan lines. No matter how much you lotion them, naked ponies out in the hot sun all day are going to develop a very distinctive set of diamond shaped tan lines. Also, of course, the completely white neck will contrast as well.”

"Other times," she continued, "it might be more subtle, posture or expression. See this collar? It's a posture collar, it protects the entire throat from the collar bones to the chin. After wearing this for two years, this slave here will probably hold her head and neck erect for the rest of her life. So yeah, it's more instinct than anything else. Regular folks might not spot it, but a slaver or a slave will almost always know. It's one of the reasons why it's really hard for people to hide the fact that they're former slaves. Another thing you should know is that we put our slaves' profiles - with pictures - on the HH Ranch website. The URL is on my card. You can look her up next week and see her there if you want to check in on her and see how she's doing.”

“In answer to your other question, no. He's not gay. Slaves don't have sexual preferences. What slaves want doesn't matter. Only owners' and clients' preferences matter. So, if a gay man prefers smooth young Tejano boys and I have such a slave in my herd, they're going to have sex. All the slave can do is get as much enjoyment out of it as he can. We always have a few boys in our herd for that kind of thing. Other ranches specialize in it.”

“We have a saying. A slave is not heterosexual OR homosexual, their sexual orientation is ‘slave’. During his indenture, Emilio’s sexual orientation was ‘slave’, now it seems to be heterosexual. That’s just how it is. This slave is probably bisexual or something like that. It doesn’t really matter; she’s a good girl and she’ll lick or suck whatever she is told. We’ve already seen that.”

The trio finally reached the blue truck with the HH brand on the side. Monica turned the slave so that she was facing both free women and addressed her directly. “Slave, did you enjoy it when two women frigged you to an orgasm?”

The slave nodded. “You did, didn't you?” Monica continued. “Does that mean you're gay? No, it does not. It means that you were a horny slave who got rewarded for being a good girl. Did you enjoy sucking Emilio's cock? You did, didn't you? Does that mean you’re NOT gay? No, it doesn't. It just means that you were ordered to pleasure a man who happened to be kind and considerate and it was fun.”

Monica turned back to Cassie. “So, you see that, Cassie? That's slavery in a nutshell. Good girls get rewarded, bad girls get punished, and every slave needs to enjoy the good things that come their way while minimizing the bad.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Thirty Pieces of Silver
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Cassie nodded. It was out of her hands now. It really hadn’t ever been IN her hands. This was Charlotte’s destiny, she had chosen it herself. She was going to be a slave for the next three years and she would have whatever form of sex she was commanded with whomever she was told to. That was how slavery worked, and there was nothing that Cassie could do about it.

At least her new owners weren’t depraved, sadistic monsters. Cassie knew for a fact that such slavers existed. But Boss Monica appeared to be genuinely concerned about the well-being of her “livestock”. She might consider Charlotte an animal, but she was still a valuable animal, to be protected to the extent possible. That was probably the best that Cassie – and Charlotte – could hope for.

Boss Monica watched her nod. “All right then, I’ll just load up my property and get going. Call me when you decide what you want to do about the job. I was serious about that. I think you’ve got what it takes. Not everyone can understand that slaves, no matter how much we might empathize with them, need to be treated like slaves.”

Cassie hesitated, taking one last look at her friend, then turned away. She reached into her pocket for her key fob, then realized, “Oh, umm, Ms. Monica?” she said. “I have your thirty dollars here.”

“Keep it, it’s yours. You helped me gentle this slave and made things easier for me. I appreciate that, you’ve earned it. Good luck.”

Emotionally numb, Cassie watched as the woman bundled her former best friend into the truck, secured her, and pulled out. The thirty pieces of silver burned in her hand. Cassie had just sold her best friend into slavery, then pimped her for gas money.

She stood there, breathing raggedly for the seemingly endless amount of time that it took for the truck to vanish into the traffic heading south.

Finally, the truck with Charlotte in it was gone. Cassie returned to her car and opened the door. There she hesitated again, staring at the car seat. The last time she sat in this car seat, Charlotte was a free woman. She was frightened, she was desperate, but she wasn’t alone. Cassie had her back. Now Charlotte no longer existed. Only “slave 1234”, or whatever they were calling her now, existed.

Cassie’s life needed to go on. She sat down, then reached into one of the boxes in the back seat and pulled out Mr. Monkey. She put him in the passenger seat and buckled his seat belt for him, in much the same way that Boss Monica had just buckled Charlotte’s seat belt. Mr. Monkey couldn’t take care of himself. Someone else needed to do it for him. Human ponies weren’t able to take care of themselves, either. They needed someone else to do that for them. That’s what free people were for. Cassie nodded to herself, looking down at Mr. Monkey.

“Mr. Monkey,” she said, “I’m going to take the job. I’m going to take care of human ponies, because they can’t take care of themselves. And three years from now, Charlotte will come back for you. In the meantime, you and I are going to have adventures together and we’ll tell Charlotte all about them when she comes back to us, deal?”

Cassie patted him on the head, looked both ways, and then pulled out carefully. She had thirty bucks burning a hole in her pocket. It was enough for a tank of gas and a burrito. She would be home in time for lunch, but she was hungry now.
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Re: Charlotte – Arrival, Part 02

Post by ZeeChromosome »

Good question. There ARE human pony ranches like that. The HH Ranch isn't one of them. The ponies have their speech turned off while they are in pony mode, which is usually 6-8 hours per day. The rest of the time, they are able to talk.

Mistress Harriette's business plan requires a continuous supply of sexy, young pleasure ponies so that her herd is always fresh (and young) for her clients. So, she needs to be able to demonstrate to potential recruits that serving her - and servicing her clients - for 2-3 years is a viable and useful step in their post-high school career plans. The HH Ranch has a cooperation agreement with the National Association for the Advancement of Collared Persons (NAACP) to continue the education of her enslaved workforce. This means that Charlotte will be able to take online classes as a remote-learning slave student during her indenture. Free of charge.

When Charlotte is manumitted, she will have access to (1) her original sale price, (2) her tips, (3) a (very small) percentage of her earnings, and (4) an NAACP scholarship.

The NAACP has given up on fighting against slavery, because of course, that's utterly stupid. Everyone who matters likes slavery and it's here to stay. Instead, the NAACP fights against the DAMAGE that slavery does.

So yeah, Charlotte will go to college and succeed. You've seen her in "Bachelorette Party" and "Atonement Session" under her slave name, Meadowlark. Her future is bright. I have it all planned out.
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Re: Charlotte – Arrival, Part 02

Post by Belinda »

What a wonderful pony story. Love NAACP analogy. Can't wait for the next segments and the training regime Charlotte must follow. Again, great story keep up the excellent work.
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Re: Charlotte – Arrival, Part 02

Post by ZeeChromosome »

Belinda wrote: Thu Sep 08, 2022 7:33 pm What a wonderful pony story. Love NAACP analogy. Can't wait for the next segments and the training regime Charlotte must follow. Again, great story keep up the excellent work.
Thanks for the response, Belinda. Your support means a lot to me.

The first story I wrote was "Stallion - Arrival". I didn't write a sequential chapter because I had too many questions and too few answers. In short, I had no idea what I was doing. One of the questions I didn't have an answer for was I wanted there to ALSO be a female pony arriving and being sold at the same time. That way, the reader can see the huge difference between the way a stallion is treated vs. a mere pleasure pony.

Anyway, after I jumped around in my timeline for a bit, I realized that pony is Charlotte/Meadowlark. She will next appear in "Stallion - Arrival 02", which I am working on.

As for the training regime, are you aware that the HH Ranch has all the amenities of a 5-star resort? So, YES, there is an 18-hole golf course! And guess what? C'mon, guess... who caddies for you? That's right! Naked pony girls! Anyway, the first thing that new ponygirls pull is a bag cart, which is two golf bags on wheels. It's light, easy to pull, and acclimates them to the job gradually. So, that's where she will start. On the golf course. It'll be fun, I promise. Also, not only does she pull your cart, she also polishes your putter. :mrgreen:

Zee!
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