StripSearch

Disclaimer: This story contains themes of slavery, enforced nudity, and humiliation in a dystopian psychological drama. It portrays a brutal descent into subservience, not a tale of love or liberation. If this content upsets you, or you favor hopeful endings, consider skipping this one.

Summary: Melissa, a young woman, flees the chaos in England with her African boyfriend to his home country. Upon arrival, the border police want to deport her because she has no visa. But her boyfriend has an idea: Slaves don’t require visas, so she should pretend to be his slave to get past the border checkpoint, and the problem would be solved. What sounds like a simple enough idea, quickly becomes all too real and spirals into an avalanche of troubles that will change Melissa’s life forever.

This story follows Melissa’s experiences of degradation as she is stripped naked and transitions into a life of slavery. It provides an intimate look at her feelings of shame and the internal conflicts she faces in her new oppressive reality.

1. Crossing the Threshold

Melissa sat at the desk of the legal officer of the airport police. Her hands were handcuffed behind her back. The supervising officer who had arrested her was sitting next to her and scrolling through his phone. The legal officer, a smartly dressed young man perhaps five years older than her, was filling out paperwork. On his desk was her passport from which he was reading her details and writing them into a form. The legal officer was wearing a name badge. Melissa read “Mr Mengistu”. A large fan in the corner was humming while creating a gentle breeze.

Her boyfriend Arbek had been dismissed from the supervisor’s office. He was a citizen of Grabesh and his papers had been in order. The supervisor had unlocked the door of his office and let him out. Arbek had told her he would be waiting for her once the airport police were done processing her.

Then, the supervisor had brought her here. On their way through the corridors she had seen naked men with collars cleaning the furniture and mopping the floors. She had been shocked at the sight of them. “Slaves” she thought to herself and shuddered. She had never seen slaves before. Despicable how they were being kept by the airport police, she thought.

They had then waited outside the legal officer's office, seated in a line of chairs along the corridor. After a brief wait, a nude black woman wearing only a collar had come up to them and inquired if the officer wanted coffee. He had nodded yes, and she soon brought him a cup. She didn't engage with Melissa, likely due to Melissa's hands being cuffed.



Melissa had been shocked to see a woman treated like this. Surely this must be a violation of human rights! Even if these people were slaves there was no reason to deny them clothes. The police department was run by a gang of filthy perverts, she concluded.

Once in the legal officer’s office the supervisor briefed him on the matter. She didn’t understand what they were saying because they conferred in Grabesian. During the briefing the legal officer looked at her a few times with a surprised look on his face.

Finally, the supervisor asked her to reaffirm her status as a slave before the legal officer, and she complied.

The legal officer took his seat and started on the paperwork, methodically filling out and stamping documents. His work was briefly paused when the same enslaved woman from before entered to deliver what looked like a mug of iced tea. Melissa was again taken aback by the sight of the bare, collared black woman in the office, while the officials carried on as if this were perfectly normal.

Melissa looked up at the legal officer as he rose from his seat and went to a cabinet to take out a collar. He put it on his desk, read a series of numbers inscribed on it and then wrote them into the form.

After thoroughly reviewing the document, he concluded, "Everything seems in order." He slid the form along with a pen across the desk. With her hands bound, Melissa could only inspect the form visually. She noted her name and personal information at the beginning, followed by a "collar ID number," and her boyfriend's full name. The document was dotted with legal jargon which she glossed over. At the end, there was a signature under "Witness 1" already filled in by the legal officer, and an empty line for "Witness 2". The supervisor picked up the pen and added his signature there. The legal officer then retrieved the form, applying several official stamps to it.

"Alright, Miss Maurer," the legal officer addressed her, then instructed, "Please stand."

Melissa complied and stood up as the officer approached with the collar. He turned to the supervisor, saying, "If you could assist," with a nod toward Melissa. The supervisor rose, gently lifting her hair to bare her neck. The legal officer opened the collar and placed it around her throat.

With a clear, metallic click, the collar locked into place. He continued to adjust it, the sound of multiple clicks resonating as it tightened. The officer was holding the collar in his fist, making sure to have his fingers on the inside, to prevent it from tightening too much around Melissa’s neck.

Once satisfied, he released his hold on the collar, pushed something on the inside, eliciting one final click. "To prevent further tightening," he said in a caring tone.

The supervisor let go of her hair, and it fell back down. Then he took out a key and released her from her handcuffs. Finally, she was free of them! Melissa brought her hands in front of her and rubbed her wrists. Then, she felt around the collar that was now locked on her neck.

“There is no lock,” she noticed. “How do I get this off?” Then she reconsidered her question. “I mean, how can Arbek, I mean, my master, unlock this?”

The supervisor explained that “This collar has a magnetic lock. Once your master has a collar for you he can collar you with that and we will remove this collar.”

Melissa asked, “What does it say on it?”

The supervisor read “Property of the State of Grabesh, ID number 147389”.

Melissa was alarmed. “What? No! Why am I ‘Property of the State’?” This was getting out of hand. Arbek would not be able to take this collar off once they’d left the airport. That was bad enough. But “Property of the State” sounded like Arbek would not even own her. Her thoughts were racing.

Mr Mengistu explained, “Don’t worry, Miss Maurer. It is only temporary. As soon as your master has a collar for you we will remove this one. In fact, he can go to any major police station and they can do this as well. It is just a formality.”

“Oh,” Melissa acknowledged, calmed by this.

“It was the ‘state property’ bit that worried you, wasn’t it?”, Mr Mengistu asked and smiled. “Slaves wearing these collars are almost never actually state property. The collars are a legal tool when ownership of a slave is more complex, for example when a slave is paid for in installments or a slave is used as collateral for a loan or, he concluded, in your case where the state has taken temporary ownership until your boyfriend has bought a collar. In cases like these the slave is issued one of these collars. The legal terms are filed in a central database and linked to the ID number. That way the police can look it up and will know that they can remove this collar from you when your boyfriend turns up. Neat, isn’t it?”

Melissa nodded politely, but she had tuned out of his lecture. She didn’t care about technical details. She just wanted out of here and was trying to come to terms that Arbek’s slave ruse would not be over after she had passed the border checkpoint as he had promised.

Arbek would not be able to get this collar off. This would take longer than she had thought. Arbek would have to put his own collar on her so this collar could be removed. Then, once they were in private, Arbek could remove his collar, and she could be free again and this surreal slave episode would be over. In the meantime, she could maybe wear a scarf or a turtleneck to cover the collar when out in public so people would not think of her as a slave. Then again, the climate in Grabesh was hot and wearing such items would surely look suspicious. So maybe she would just have to live with a demeaning collar around her neck for a day or so.

“Can I go now?” she asked.

“Please remove your clothes and personal items, Miss Maurer,” the legal officer ordered.

“What?” Melissa asked bewilderedly.

“It is part of the slave code,” the supervisor said. “I gather your boyfriend Mr Gurtan forgot to mention that to you?”

Melissa was devastated. Was that why all the slaves she had seen had been naked? She had assumed that their nudity had been cruelty of the airport police to degrade them. No. That could not be true. “This has to be a joke,” she said. “Are you telling me that all slaves have to be naked in this country?”

“Slaves are not allowed to wear clothes unless they have a reasonable excuse,” the legal officer recited the relevant bit of the slave code. He explained that “Slaves wearing plain clothes are a serious issue because it means they are trying to pass as free people. Falsifying your status is an offense in Grabesh.”

The men just looked at her expectantly. After a pause the supervisor said, “You don’t have a choice Miss Maurer. I imagine that the enforced nudity can be hard on some slaves at the beginning of their enslavement.”

“But… but… people will stare at me! Everyone will be gawking.”

Mr Mengistu shrugged and looked at her as if saying, “Yeah well but this is how it is.”

She imagined herself strolling down a street without any clothes on. What would that be like? In her mind, she saw people reacting: She saw men and women turning their heads. Men were stopping and staring at her, women were outraged at her brazen display while younger folks whipped out their smartphones and made video clips of her to share with their friends. She saw kids pointing at her, calling out to their mothers. Dogs were barking at her. She felt sick from the glance set by her imagination running wild.

”What about children? They would see me naked too,” she exclaimed. ”They are going to be traumatized. This is completely nuts!”

He explained, “Miss Maurer, the conditions of slavery might be shocking to you because it is not part of your culture. But in Grabesh people are accustomed to slavery. People will take as much offense to your nakedness as they are offended by a naked dog or a naked horse. Have you ever looked at a horse or a dog and felt offended? Or thought that they should be wearing clothes? Or worried that their lack of clothes might somehow traumatize children?”

Melissa sighed. She didn’t know how to respond to that. This was the final straw. She wanted out. “I can’t do this,” she said. “I’ve had enough. Just take me to the detention facility and deport me as soon as flights resume.”

“That is not how this works, Miss Maurer,” the legal officer replied. “You can’t just choose to go to immigration custody. You are legally a slave now. And you are owned by a citizen of Grabesh. That means your presence here is no longer illegal. The issue now is that you are in violation of the regulatory code for slaves. The regulatory code states, as I just said, that slaves must be naked unless they have a reasonable excuse to wear clothes. Only free people have an unconditional right to clothes.”

“And if I refuse?” Melissa asked anxiously.

“Then you will make the acquaintance of Mr Sparky here,” the supervisor said while unfastening the baton from his hip belt. He held it towards her and pushed a button. Melissa saw sparks flying between the electrodes at its end, accompanied by a threatening crackle.

Feeling resigned, Melissa looked down. She did not believe that her nudity was an actual legal requirement. That was absurd. She was convinced that these men were abusing their authority to make a young white woman strip in front of them. She imagined they'd share a laugh about it later. But she also did not want the supervisor to use his taser on her. She sighed in frustration before stripping down to her underwear, revealing her flawless, pale skin.

She sensed the warmth of the linoleum against her bare feet. Melissa possessed a slender frame, the kind typical of youth, but with an added definition from her recent habit of regular running. She enjoyed the escape into fresh air, a welcome switch from sitting when studying. Consequently, her physique was fit and well-toned.

She looked at the men. “Is this ok?” she asked in a desperate voice.

“No,” the supervisor replied calmly.

“Arrrrrgh!” Melissa gave out a stifled cry as her butt cheeks cramped up, pain spread through her body and her legs started shaking uncontrollably. The supervisor had touched her behind with his baton and had switched on the sparks. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity she fell to her knees and caught her fall with her hands.

Melissa breathed heavily while trying to come back to her senses. She was in her underwear on all fours with two men who really wanted her to undress for them. Her body was throbbing. She felt the weight of the steel collar on her neck. Cold sweat was beading on her forehead, her back, and drops of sweat were running down her legs and thighs.

“Get up, slave, and remove your clothes,” she heard the supervisor’s calm but authoritative voice. “I won’t say it again.”

Melissa slowly rose to her feet, holding on to the desk for balance. Her legs felt shaky and still shivered unpredictably. She made a mental note of all this and once she was out of here she would file a complaint against this brute. He would regret this! But for now she would do what he said. She did not want the supervisor to use the taser-baton on her again.

Melissa removed her bra, revealing two perky handfuls of teardrop shaped breasts. They were pale and creamy, markedly whiter than the rest of her skin due to their constant cover from sunlight, making her breasts appear even more pristine. Her areolas were large, as opposed to the common smaller, darker circles seen on many women. The diameter was akin to the loop formed by her thumb and middle finger, making them notably prominent, as if designed to draw the eye, enhancing the sense of her exposed state.

Melissa handed her bra to the supervisor who put it into the plastic bag.

Finally, she hooked her thumbs into the back of her slip and pulled it down to her knees, revealing her blonde pubic hair framed into white skin in a mild tan line.

Melissa did not shave her pubic region, opting instead for occasional trims that allowed her hair to form a modest bush. This choice stemmed from her physical anatomy; her inner labia extended beyond her outer labia, a feature she was self-conscious about. During her school years, she was occasionally required to shower after gym class, an experience she found distressing. Observing her classmates, she noticed many had a configuration where the outer labia concealed the inner, which she considered more aesthetically pleasing. To mask her own perceived flaw, she cultivated her pubic hair into a neat, dark blonde triangle. This helped her feel less exposed when she viewed herself in the mirror, making her more comfortable with her appearance.

Arbek had said that he preferred a woman with pubic hair. She had been relieved when he had said that because it meant she could keep her bush of pubic hair.

Melissa moved her legs together and let her slip fall to the ground. She stepped out of it and squatted to pick it up with her thumb and index finger. The supervisor held the open bag in front of her, and she released the slip to drop into it.

Melissa stood fully bared before the two men, the gentle breeze from the fan whispering across her skin, subtly stirring her pubic hair and sweeping through the space between her legs. Feeling exposed, she instinctively shielded her breasts with one arm and her pubic area with a hand, in an attempt to preserve some modesty.

“Your hair tie as well Miss Maurer,” she heard the legal officer.

So she was not even allowed to tie her hair together into a ponytail. But given she was already nude. This was not so bad and she almost felt grateful not to be tased again for failing to hand this over.

Melissa pulled off her hair tie and she felt her long hair spread and fall on the bare skin of her back.

“And your rings,” the officer said.

Melissa was wearing a few decorative rings. She quite liked them. But she would get them back. The police would hand her belongings to Arbek, and then she would put them back on again later. This was all just temporary, she reminded herself. Melissa pulled the rings off and dropped them into the plastic bag.

“Alright,” the legal officer said. He saw Melissa’s unease and tried to offer some comforting words, “You know, Miss Maurer, this is not so bad. Being naked has a lot of advantages. Grabesh has a hot climate and being naked really helps with that.”

She saw the legal officer put the form into a folder together with her passport while he was speaking. The folder went into a box and he took the bag with her clothes and put it into the box as well. He put her backpack onto the box bringing all of Melissa’s belongings neatly together.

“Thanks sergeant. That’s all I need,” the legal officer concluded. “I’ll pack this up and send it off for archiving.”

The supervisor said, “Thanks Mr Mengistu.” From the corner of her eyes Melissa saw the supervisor reach into his back pocket. Then he took her right hand that was covering her pubic area and snapped a cuff around it. Melissa did not resist. Her life and her body were now fully in the hands of these strangers. The supervisor gently turned her away from him, grabbed her left arm that was covering her breasts and positioned it behind her back to lock her left wrist to the handcuffs.

“Let’s go,” he said.

2. Chains and Checks

“Miss Maurer?” she heard a voice call her.

Melissa was sitting in a cell. It was a small three by two meter barred holding cell with a hinged wooden board hanging from two chains fastened to the wall serving as a bench and a toilet at the far side of the wall.

—

After concluding the formalities with the legal officer, Melissa had expected to be released to her boyfriend Arbek so they could move on and leave this all behind them.

Yes, she would have to be naked in public at first because her collar unmistakably identified her as a slave. The thought of this devastated Melissa. But Arbek would have the collar replaced with his own, so the police would remove her current collar. Then, once they were alone, Arbek would remove his collar from her, and she could wear clothes and present normally again and forget these embarrassing events had ever happened. She would tell him that it was urgent. That she wanted this damn collar off as soon as possible, so she would not have to be nude in public. Arbek would probably find a collar and get it over with the same day.

But the supervisor had not given her to Arbek. Instead, he had deposited her into this holding cell as she was: Naked and collared. She had asked him what would happen next. The supervisor had replied that she would have to wait and there would be some checks before she could be released. As they walked, the supervisor had held her upper arm with his left hand, and he’d been holding the baton in his right hand, absentmindedly tapping his leg with the baton. Melissa, naked as she was, had felt vulnerable. Her soft white skin was fully exposed, and any touch from the sparks of the device would sting painfully. Her hands were cuffed behind her, so she would not even be able to use her hands to protect herself. She did not want to risk him using his taser on her again so she did not probe any further. It would be best not to engage with this brute, she thought.

—

Melissa turned her head and saw the guard. “Yes,” she said and stood up.

The guard frowned. “That is ‘Yes, Sir’ for you, young lady,” he admonished her. “As a slave you are to address all free people with ‘Sir’ or Ma’am’.”

“Yes, Sir,” she quietly said.

The guard held out what looked like a bundle of chains. “Hold out your hands,” he ordered her.

The bars of her cell had a chaining port. A gap in the bars at waist height and another at ankle height. Both gaps were connected through a vertical gap in the bars.

Melissa put her hands through the gap at waist height. The guard locked a pair of handcuffs around them. Then he let the rest of the chains fall, and Melissa saw that the handcuffs were connected to a chain that had a pair of leg cuffs at its other end.

“Step closer to the bars,” the guard said. Melissa moved her feet closer to the gap and dropped her hands so the leg irons were low enough that the guard could secure them to her ankles. When he was done he unlocked the cell. “Step out of the cell,” he ordered her.

Melissa carefully moved out of the cell. The leg cuffs only allowed her to make short half steps. She tried lifting her hands. The central chain went taut right away. When she pulled a bit more the cuffs around her ankles slipped upwards a bit but she was barely able to bring her hands up to her navel.

“Damn, these are tight,” Melissa thought as the guard walked her down the corridors. “But at least I’m finally getting out.” She felt a sting of embarrassment at the thought that this was how she would be handed to Arbek: Naked, collared and tightly chained up. She wondered if Arbek would enjoy seeing her like this. She doubted that he would admit it but she suspected he would be aroused to see her like this.

Officers walked back and forth. As if her nudity wasn’t bad enough, she felt humiliated for being walked in chains. Did they really think she would run? Naked as she was? She walked past four people in plain clothes who were sitting in chairs in front of an office, waiting. They looked at her with curiosity as she approached. A middle-aged man among them smiled at her. Melissa stared at the floor in front of her and walked, wishing this would all be over.

She couldn’t wait to get out of here. The supervisor had mentioned some final checks would be needed to be done on her. Then she would be released to Arbek. The thought of Arbek made her furious. This was not how his plan was meant to play out! He had made this sound so simple. She would scold him for this alright. She was making mental notes about every detail of her treatment, and she would tell him all about it to make him feel guilty for what he had put her through. Then, she would order him to take the steps to get her collar off so she could have a normal life again. He would procrastinate as usual but she would tell him “right now!” and he would feel guilty and hurry up.

They arrived at a staircase and Melissa sighed. This would be difficult.

With her movements restricted, Melissa cautiously tackled each step. The chain linking her ankles was just long enough to let her move from one step to the next, but it was a precarious balance, and the handrail was out of reach due to her handcuffed hands tethered by the central chain. She was thankful for the guard's grip on her upper arm, providing some stability.
Melissa looked down the stairs and saw a black woman ascending. She was elegantly dressed, a folder tucked under her arm. The woman looked up and when their eyes met the woman gave her a nod and a friendly smile. Melissa, not sure how to react, nodded and smiled back awkwardly.

Proceeding with her descent, Melissa misjudged the placement of her back foot. As she lifted her front foot for the next step, the ankle chain suddenly tensed, causing her to trip. "Aah!" she cried out, her instinct to brace herself thwarted by the central chain making her handcuffs painfully dig into her wrists. Fortunately, the guard's hold prevented her from falling, helping her regain her footing.

When they arrived on the ground floor Melissa felt the smooth cool marble under her bare feet. Her ankle chains clanged on the marble floor as the guard walked her toward what appeared to be an exit.

A man was standing near the exit. Next to him was a cage on a dolly. Melissa felt queasy as she approached.

“This is the slave?” the man sounded surprised.

“Yes,” her guard replied. “Miss Melissa Maurer. Ready to be picked up.”

The man opened the door of the cage. “Get in please, Miss.”

No, this was not right. They were supposed to release her after some formalities. Melissa turned to her guard, her voice tinged with anger, “This is not right. I was supposed to be picked up by my boyfriend!” Her chained hands clenched into fists, pulling her chains tight.

"Arrgh!" she exclaimed as the guard swiftly used his baton to deliver a shock to her upper right leg. She doubled over, the pain forcing her into a crouch, her muscles seizing.

As she fought to keep from collapsing, the guard withdrew the taser. The guard corrected her: "I was supposed to be picked up by my boyfriend, Sir," emphasizing the 'Sir' at the end. “And mind your tone, Miss Maurer,” the guard said sternly.

Melissa breathed heavily and felt her heart pound. Shaking as she stood up straight, Melissa winced from the pain in her wrists, likely from an involuntary jerk during the shock.

"I'm sorry, Sir," she whispered, still out of breath. "I meant there is a mix-up, Sir… I was told… Mr Gurtan would collect me… after some formalities." She looked at his chest, afraid to provoke him by making eye contact, still breathing quickly, then quickly added another "Sir."

The guard produced an envelope from his jacket. He examined the document it contained, then grabbed the D-ring on Melissa's collar. He pulled it towards him and adjusted it upward and sideways, positioning it so he could easily read the collar's inscription without stooping.

Melissa was yanked closer. She felt the collar press sharply into her neck, forcing her to rise onto her tiptoes and to tilt her head back to lessen the strain. She twisted her head to align with the direction of the guard’s pull on the D-ring. Her hands instinctively rose, but the cuffs tethered to the central chain halted them abruptly, causing her pain. As she shifted, Melissa couldn’t help but yelp "ouch" several times.

Melissa struggled to maintain her balance on her tiptoes to prevent the collar from causing further pain. She was furious about the guard’s rough treatment of her but the taser had served its purpose, and she decided she would not give him an excuse to use it on her again.

“Is there a problem?” the man next to the cage asked.

The guard checked the number on Melissa's collar against the one on the form. "No, this is all in order," he confirmed.

He released the tension on Melissa's collar, allowing her to lower herself back onto her heels.

"Step inside the cage, Miss Maurer," the guard commanded.

Melissa's eyes searched the guard's and the man's faces with a silent plea. The man, holding the cage door ajar, gave her an encouraging smile. The cage resembled an oversized kennel for dogs. Fearing another encounter with the guard’s taser-baton, Melissa approached the cage, convinced that all of this was a big mistake. But she could not do anything with this trigger-happy brute around. She crouched down, navigating her entry into the cage with caution due to the limited slack in her chains, careful to avoid the discomfort of the cuffs biting into her skin. After some effort, she managed to get into the cage standing on her hands and knees. The cage was a bit larger than her body in this posture but not by much.

The guard proceeded to close the cage's door, which comprised the whole front panel of the cage, and secured it with a sturdy padlock. He put the key into the envelope and handed the paperwork to the man and left.

Melissa carefully sat down on the back on her feet and tried to straighten up but her head hit the bars at the top of the cage. So she shuffled around a bit until she sat cross-legged on the cage floor, leaning with her back against the bars. The cage was just high enough to allow her to sit straight this way.

The man looked down at Melissa, now locked in the transport cage and said, “I’ll be with you in a moment.” Without waiting for an answer he pulled out his phone and started calling someone. Soon he was in a cordial conversation. Melissa couldn’t understand anything because he was talking in Grabesian. But the voice at the other end was female, and she imagined he was checking in with his wife. He walked around the entrance area as he was speaking and ended up looking out of the windows on the other side.

Melissa sighed and rubbed her wrists. She wanted these chains off. Why did they even need to keep her chained in here? She was caged anyway! She took account of her situation. She had suffered so many indignities today. And the airport police had taken everything from her. Literally everything she thought, looking down at herself. She was naked and collared. “Up to code,” as Mr Mengistu, the legal officer, she was sure would attest if he could see her. It was time for them to give her to Arbek so they could move on with their lives.

Then the door opened and someone came in from outside. Melissa peered through the bars of her cage. She recognised him. It was the legal officer. “Mr Mengistu!” she called out. “Mr Mengistu!”

The legal officer, who had just finished a cigarette break, stopped and turned. He appeared surprised at the call of his name. His gaze went down at the cage and he saw her. Recognition flashed on his face. “Ah, Miss Maurer! I see you are ready for pick up!”

“Mr Mengistu!” She cried again unnecessarily. Melissa grabbed the bars of her cage.

“Mr Mengistu! There is a misunderstanding. I was supposed to be released to Mr Gurtan but they put me here. I think they want to ship me somewhere,” she said desperately. And added: “Sir!”

The legal officer approached the cage. He stood before her and looked down at Melissa. Melissa looked up at him through the bars of her cage.

“There is no misunderstanding Miss Maurer”, he explained. “We did say that a few checks were needed before you could be cleared for import. We do not perform these checks in-house. This is an airport after all. The courier here” and he nodded toward the man who was still on the phone “will bring you to the Health Office, and they will perform the checks.”

“What kind of checks are these?” Melissa asked bewilderedly.

“Oh just the standard procedure for livestock,” the legal officer said. “As a slave you are not an immigrant but an import. An import of livestock to be precise. And all livestock have to undergo routine checks upon import unless they have already been certified. It is in the regulations for import of livestock.”

“Livestock,” Melissa repeated. “Livestock…” She was speechless. “But, but…” She wanted this nightmare to end, she wanted to be released to Arbek but it seemed like she would be going on a detour.

“Yes, because of diseases, and they check for overall health.” He leaned on her cage as if this was a casual chat, and he was making himself comfortable. “We don’t want to import diseases into Grabesh and have them spread here. Normally livestock imports come from the port. People usually relocate livestock via ships. That is much cheaper. It is rare that it is us who send animals to the Health Office for checkup.”

“Look, this is all a big mistake, Mr Mengistu,” she pleaded desperately from her cage, glossing over him referring to her as an animal.

In her unease, Melissa transitioned from sitting to kneeling. The cage's bars restricted her from lifting her head fully, so she arched her back so she could make eye contact with the man who was her last hope of getting out of her situation.

She gathered all her courage and said: “I’m not really a slave. This was just a ruse to get through the border checkpoint. It was a stupid idea. I understand that now. We thought this would be quick and easy. We were wrong. I take it back. I’m not really a slave. And I’m ready to bear the consequences and go into immigration detention.”

“I see,” The legal officer looked down at her. “Unfortunately, Miss Maurer, you have declared yourself a slave in front of witnesses. As a free woman you had ownership of yourself. That means you had the right to transfer that ownership to someone else. By declaring yourself Mr Gurtan’s slave you have transferred your ownership of yourself to him. There are witnesses that you have done so and it has been formally documented. That makes you Mr Gurtan’s slave. As a slave you can’t undo this by declaring yourself to be free or ‘not really a slave’ as you put it. If it was that simple, all slaves would just declare themselves to be free. Only your owner, Mr Gurtan, can free you from your enslavement to him. Your boyfriend would need to free you and only that would release you from slavery.”

“Can you get him here?” she tried. “He is waiting for me here at the airport. If you make an announcement, he will come, and we will set this straight. I can’t take this Mr Mengistu,” she whined. “I want out of this cage,” she said and tried to grab for the bars in front of her, but in her kneeling position her ankles were further away and the central chain went taut just before she could reach them, so she put her hands back on the floor.

“I want these chains of me,” she said, lifting her chained wrists.“ And I want my clothes back,” she said, covering her breasts with her hands. “Please, Mr Mengistu before this guy comes back and takes me away.”

Kneeling proved too uncomfortable within the confines of this cage so Melissa moved back into a sitting position and raised her eyes to the officer with a beseeching look.

“It is ok, Miss Maurer,” he said. “Don’t worry. As I said: As livestock you need to undergo the standard checks. I can’t change that. And in any case, there is nothing wrong with getting a health check. Think about it Miss Maurer, what if they find something you didn’t even know about. Then you might be glad that you had an extra health check.” He concluded, “We have a great health care system here in Grabesh. You’ll see. It will be fine.”

He tapped Melissa’s cage twice. “Okay, I’ve got to go now. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Maurer.” Then he gave her one last smile, turned around and left her.

Melissa was left dumbfounded in her cage.

The supervisor had not mentioned that she would be transported to some other place to be checked. And with sudden worry the thought flashed in her mind, “How would Arbek find her?” He had wanted to pick her up from the airport police after what was supposed to be formalities. Well, those had been quite the formalities! But when he turned up now, she would no longer be here. She hoped that the police would tell him where they had brought her.

She had settled to sit with her legs crossed inside the confined space of the cage, a position that inadvertently left her vagina somewhat exposed to observers. However, her handcuffed hands naturally fell in front of her, providing a shield for her most private area from direct sight, while still leaving the top portion of her pubic hair visible.

She had had enough of this. More than enough. She wanted to get out of here. But these people had her helplessly trapped. When she got out of here she would be so mad at Arbek! Arbek and his careless happy-go-lucky attitude. He just didn't think things through. She looked down and saw the shackles around her ankles, her wrists and the chain linking them in front of her wiry pubic hair. This is where Arbek's incompetence to plan had got her.

And had the legal officer just referred to her as an “animal”? The thought suddenly flashed in her mind. An “animal” and “livestock”, she recalled with a sting in her gut.

She looked up through the bars of her cage and saw the man, the courier, approaching her.


“Alrighty, ready to go Miss Maurer?” The courier said while loosening the brakes on the wheels of the dolly. He chuckled as if he had made a joke. He took the handle of the dolly and pulled Melissa behind him in her cage while humming to himself.

He pushed through the exit, revealing a step leading out. Melissa jolted in her cage as the front wheels fell off the step, eliciting a sharp grunt from her, followed by another jolt from the rear wheels. The courier didn't hold the door, so it struck the cage on its way back, dragging along the metal bars before shutting once the cage was clear.

As Melissa was pulled out of the door, she felt the warmth enveloping her, a stark contrast to the air-conditioned coolness of the airport. It was like passing through an invisible barrier into a balmy embrace, which she found comforting.

Glancing around, she saw they were in a parking area. The dolly's wheels grumbled loudly over the asphalt, and the cage's metal base trembled, causing her chains to jingle and stimulating her bare skin. The vibrations created tingles of lust in her vagina, igniting a subtle flare of arousal that made her current exposed state more bearable.

The sun was already setting. Only a short distance later, they moved out of the building's shadow, and Melissa's pale skin basked in the gentle warmth of the late sun.

The courier pulled her to a parked van, opened the doors at the back and unfolded a ramp. He pulled the dolly with Melissa up the ramp into the van.

He unloaded the cage from the dolly and fastened it to fixtures on the wall of the van. As he was busy doing this, he asked Melissa: "By the way, my name is Karel. What's your name Miss Maurer?"

"I am Melissa," she replied.

"Melissa," he repeated. "So why are you here?"

"Because this country is insane and uses humans as slaves," she answered.

Karel laughed, "Yes, that is true. But you are a white woman. You are not from here. How did you end up as a slave in this cage, here at the airport?"

“Because my boyfriend is an idiot,” Melissa said, not in a mood to relive the day’s events. She exasperatedly raised her chained hands. “My boyfriend told me not to worry and that he had a plan.”

Karel laughed. "And how is that working out for you?" he asked.

"Not very well," Melissa answered feeling desperate and amused at the absurdity of her situation at the same time. The courier seemed to be friendly. He did not have one of those dreaded taser-batons as the officials at the airport were carrying. Sure, he was treating her like a caged animal, but she understood that he viewed her as a slave and from his perspective he was handling her appropriately. But he was also talking to her like a person. Melissa took a chance and requested, “Karel, Sir, if I may, could I please have something to drink? I haven’t had any food for hours.”

Karel, surprised by her request, looked at her. Then he smiled. “Sure, why not? I still have something.” He left the cargo hold and fetched something from the driver’s cab. When he returned, he was holding a bottle of coke. It was still half full. He unscrewed it and held it through the bars of her cage.

Melissa bent towards the bottle, and Karel tilted it with care, allowing the liquid to trickle into her mouth. She swallowed eagerly several times. Despite the coke being warm and flat from sitting in the heat of the van, her thirst was so great that it didn't bother her. She gripped the bars at the front of the cage for balance. After a few gulps, she paused for air, and Karel held off. She then returned her mouth to the bottle, drinking more until satisfied. Karel remained patient, letting her drink at her pace. She then expressed her gratitude, saying, "Thank you, Sir," and Karel withdrew the bottle.

Karel pulled the final strap tight, fixing her cage to the wall of the van. “Alright, off we go,” he said, stepped out of the cargo hold, folded the ramp back in and shut the doors.

The van's rear suddenly darkened, but Melissa noticed light filtering in from a wide window panel on her right, connecting to the driver's cab. This window stretched across the full width of the van, offering a view into the cab and, from her low position in the cage, an upward view through the windshield.

She heard the door open and Karel entering on the driver’s side. Melissa saw Karel look through the window checking on her quickly, and then he started the engine. She heard the motor and the wheels turning as the van pulled out of the parking lot.

A few minutes later they were on the street, and Melissa shook up and down in her cage from the bumps in the road.

Her mind was spinning. What would happen next? The legal officer had said she was to be checked for diseases. She hoped that it was just a matter of a physical examination. Maybe some blood tests. No, hopefully no blood tests, she thought.

She tried not to worry.

Melissa was thirsty, and she was sweating in the humid heat of the van. Her stomach was growling and she felt dizzy. She hoped they would be at the Health Office soon.

3. The Long Road

The van shook frequently as it traversed the uneven road. As heat built up the cargo hold became oppressively hot and muggy. Sweat trickled down Melissa's face and body as she sat with her legs crossed in the cage. She leaned back against the bars of the cage but still swayed a bit with each turn the van took. Melissa wished she could spread her arms and hold the sidebars for support, but her handcuffs forced her hands to remain in front of her. To her right, she could see through a window into the driver's cabin. This vantage point offered her a glimpse of the cab's roof and the expansive sky beyond the windshield, now painted in the deepening hues of sunset, transitioning from vibrant orange to darker shades.

After some time, Melissa maneuvered within the tight confines to lie on her back. Given the cage's narrow and elongated shape, she was unable to extend her legs. She rested her head on the hard metal base with her legs bent and feet pressed against the cage's far bars. This position offered more comfort; she was able to ease the tension in her stomach muscles. From this position she could look out of the window, now ahead of her. She allowed her knees to fall open, resting against the cage's sidebars. What a relief!

She remained in that posture for what felt like an extended period, sensing the road's tremors through the cage floor and the slight shake of the bars against her knees. Over time, the bars pressing against her knees became bothersome, so she adjusted by crossing her ankles beneath the opposite knees, allowing her knees to rest atop her ankles. This created a triangle with her legs, where her upper thighs were two sides, and her joined lower legs formed the third.

Melissa longed to stretch out her legs. Although the cage's bars had enough space for her to slide her lower legs through, her ankle chains prevented her from doing this.

She wanted to cushion her head with her hands against the hard steel floor of the cage, but the central chain didn’t allow her to bring her hands up. With a sigh, she settled for resting her cuffed hands in the space between her navel and her pubic region. As comfortable as she could make herself, she lay there, her eyes fixed on the window, watching the sky's palette as the sun dipped below the horizon.

As time drifted by, her hands drifted lower, and she began to idly twirl her pubic hair, unconsciously giving her labia a gentle pull or softly brushing her clitoris. Though not driven by a desire to masturbate in her miserable state, these subtle touches brought her comfort. Her mind wandered to more joyful memories, like those from just days before when she and Arbek shared a bed. She recalled him enveloping her from above, his body close, planting tender kisses along her neck as she held him back, breathing in his essence, feeling enveloped in warmth and affection.

"How are you doing back there Melissa?" She heard Karel call from the driver’s cab. She saw him looking at her through the rearview mirror through the window. Damn!

Startled, Melissa crashed out of her daydream. She abruptly withdrew her hands from her vagina and snapped her knees shut, mortified to have inadvertently displayed herself so openly. She had not noticed the mirror through which Karel could see her. She imagined how her position would offer him a clear and inappropriate view of her. It was deeply unsettling that anyone would witness her in such a vulnerable state. How long had he been watching her? She shuddered at the thought that he had probably been keeping an eye on her the entire time.

"Enjoying yourself?" Karel teased with a laugh. He looked forward again, presumably focusing again on driving, which Melissa was grateful for.

Struggling, Melissa attempted to right herself into a seated posture. "I'm fine," she shouted back over the rumble of the van, wincing as she banged her head against the cage's upper bars. "Ouch, damn it!" she muttered under her breath.

Damn, how much had he seen? She worried silently. The thought that he might believe she was indulging in self-pleasure made her uneasy, but there was no undoing what had been seen. Her gaze drifted back to the window, noting the deepening darkness. They must've been on the road for what seemed like an hour or two, at least from her perspective.

No, she wasn’t “fine” at all, she reflected bitterly once she managed to sit cross-legged again. She was thirsty, needed to use the bathroom, and this journey felt endless.

"Karel? Karel, Sir!" she called him. When she saw his eyes in the rearview mirror looking at him, she told him about her need to relieve herself and Karel promised they’d stop at the next gas station.

After what appeared like another half hour of travel the van pulled over and stopped.

She listened as Karel exited the vehicle, followed by the sound of fuel flowing into the tank. The need to urinate had intensified, and now, with the prospect of a stop at the gas station, her bladder's urgency spiked.

Footsteps signaled Karel walking away, likely to settle the payment. Upon his return, he maneuvered the van a short distance to a parking spot, where she felt the vehicle halt and the engine go silent.

"At last," Melissa thought with a mixture of relief and anticipation. The confines of the cage would soon be behind her, at least temporarily, for the much-needed bathroom break. She pondered whether Karel would escort her to the restroom, contemplating the logistics of her situation. Being unclothed and shackled, escape was hardly feasible, yet she wondered if he'd trust her to enter the women's restroom alone. Ever since she had regrettably declared herself a slave, her movements had been strictly controlled, with no semblance of an opportunity for escape. Now, the simple act of using the restroom without direct oversight felt like a small, albeit bitter, increase of freedom compared to the stringent custody she'd endured over the recent hours.

She heard the driver’s door open and Karel exit.

A sinister thought crept into her thoughts. Surely, Karel intended to take her to a proper restroom, didn't he? The dreadful alternative loomed; what if he expected her to relieve herself out in the open, right there beside the parking area, under his vigilant watch? The thought of being exposed like that, in full sight of any bystanders taking a break, made her wince. The image of herself, squatting vulnerably, relieving herself at a bush like a dog being walked by his master, was humiliating. She hoped that the van was at least strategically parked to shield her from any prying gazes.

By the time Karel had entered the van and unlocked the cage Melissa was already panicking. As she maneuvered herself out of the cage and stood up she pleaded to him: “Please Sir, you are taking me to a proper bathroom right? You won’t make me pee outside in the bushes, won’t you? I’m not a dog! I don’t want to pee outside, Sir!”

She looked up at Karel. He was not a cruel man, surely he would not demean her unnecessarily.

“No, of course not,” he said. Karel was standing between her and the exit of the cargo hold holding a bag in his hand. Melissa, feeling reassured, calmed down and looked at him waiting for him to let her out of the van.

“Sit on the cage,” Karel told her.

Melissa moved in front of her cage and Karel helped her sit on it.

“Spread your legs as far as your chains allow,” he said.

Melissa began to worry. “What are you doing?”

“I’ll put a catheter into you. I should have done this back at the airport, but I thought we might be able to just drive through,” he explained.

“What?” Melissa asked, feeling her panic make a comeback. “Oh my god, no!” Melissa exclaimed when she realized what Karel was intending. “Please, Sir. Please just let me pee. I will be quick. I promise.” She put her hands together pleadingly and looked at him. “Just let me hop out. I’ll be superfast, and we can continue driving in no time. You don’t need to do this, Sir.”

“Miss Maurer…, I mean Melissa, " he tried to strike a more personal note,” it is perfectly normal that slaves are catheterized on longer trips.” His hands moved gently through her hair, from her crown down to her shoulders, in a calming gesture. He then embraced her from the side, his arm around her back, gripping her right arm while his left hand softly rubbed her right thigh. Melissa recoiled internally at the thought of how sweaty she must be, her hair clinging to her damp back. Yet in her need for some solace, she found herself pressing into him, resting her head against him.

Karel planted a gentle kiss on her crown. "This method is clean and straightforward," he reassured her.

He released her, then used his hands to gently open her legs. Melissa did not resist. Her gaze fixed on the opposite wall of the van as he gently separated her labia with his fingers. His fingers pressed her labia outward, exposing her vulval vestibule. Soon after, Melissa felt the tube sliding along her sensitive flesh, probing for an entry point.

Melissa longed for this ordeal to end.

The tube touched the urethral orifice, and Karel carefully pushed the tube into it. She let out a soft groan, "urrrrrgh," she whimpered and looked down at the procedure. She continued to express her discomfort with a series of moans as the tube advanced into her, causing a stinging sensation in her urethra.

Then she implored, “Please stop Karel this hurts!” She hoped he would stop but she did not dare close her legs or use her hands to push him away.

Karel stopped the insertion and glanced up at her. “You ok?” he asked with concern.

Melissa took a moment to steady her breathing. The tube was halfway in, but now that it wasn't moving, the pain subsided. She still felt an uncomfortable pressure and the persistent need to urinate.

As she composed herself, Karel realized his oversight. "Oh yes, sorry Miss Maurer, I mean Melissa. I forgot to lubricate this. Sorry, but it has been a while since I have done this," he admitted with regret.

Karel carefully pulled the tube out to Melissa moaning “urrrrgh” until it was all out again. Then he took a small bottle of lubricant, squeezed some of it onto his hand and smeared it around the tube.

I doubt this is even remotely sterile, Melissa thought to herself but didn’t say anything, thankful that at least the tube was now lubricated.

Karel made another attempt, and this time, though Melissa still felt uneasy with the tube invading her urethra, the discomfort was bearable. Eventually, she observed her urine beginning to flow through the tube, collecting into the bag at the end.

"There we are!" Karel announced with satisfaction, looking up at her. Melissa felt self-conscious having Karel observe what was essentially her urinating into a bag, yet there was also a sense of relief as the urgency in her bladder began to dissipate.

Karel produced a syringe from his kit. "Wait here," he instructed, stepping away to the front of the van. Anxiety filled Melissa as she glanced outside. They were in a public area where anyone could stroll by and peek inside. They'd see her, a young woman stripped bare, perched atop a cage in restraints, with a catheter protruding from her.

A vehicle exited the gas station, but she couldn’t tell whether its occupants had noticed her. Melissa nervously pressed her legs together, despite the catheter.

Footsteps signaled Karel's return, syringe in hand, now filled with a clear liquid. Without needing to be told, Melissa opened her legs back to the position he had set them in earlier. Karel crouched down and administered the liquid into what he referred to as the balloon port. "To keep it in place," he clarified. "Keep what in place?" Melissa asked, puzzled by his explanation. He went on to tell her that the syringe had inflated a small balloon at the other end of the tube inside her bladder, securing the catheter from slipping out.

Karel gave the tube a soft tug, and Melissa experienced an internal pull, eliciting a discomforted "hnnnng" from her, but the tube stayed in her. Upon releasing the tube, the pulling feeling subsided.

"So this is staying inside me?" Melissa had thought the device would be removed once she had finished.

"Just until we reach the Health Office," Karel reassured her. "Then I'll remove it."

“When will we get there?”

“It might take a while.”

Melissa remained silent, grappling with the idea that this catheter would remain for possibly several more hours. Karel guided her down from where she was perched and signaled for her to enter back into the cage. She maneuvered backwards into it as Karel managed the bag connected to her. Once she was seated with her legs crossed on the cage floor, Karel placed the bag before her and secured the cage door once more, locking her in.

“Ok that went well,” Karel summarized. Melissa, however, wasn't entirely convinced.

"Anything else you need? Maybe something to drink?" he inquired. The heat had indeed left Melissa parched, having sweated profusely in the sweltering confines of the cargo space.

“Yes please, Sir,” she replied. She thought that she might be able to get away with not calling him “Sir”. But Karel was the first person since her enslavement who was showing her any kindness that she decided she would call him “Sir” anyway.

Karel retrieved the bottle from the front, once again assisting her to drink through the cage's bars. She drank the warm beverage eagerly. Afterwards, Karel withdrew, closing the cargo door behind him.

The van's engine rumbled to life once more, signaling the continuation of their journey. Melissa, now holding the catheter bag, laid down on her back with deliberate care to face the opposite direction this time. She bent her knees, planting her feet on the cage floor with them protruding through the bars as far as her ankle chains allowed, and tucked the urine bag between her legs.

The vibrations of the van resonated through the cage's floor, agitating the urine bag and, subsequently, the catheter inserted into her vulva. The unintentional effect was that this sexually aroused her; the catheter, functioning like a low-powered vibrator, was providing a steady, albeit unwanted, stimulation to her intimate area, constantly igniting little sparkles of lust.

Melissa tried her best to ignore it. Masturbation was out of the question. Not when Karel could watch her through the rearview mirror. She couldn’t bear the thought of Karel watching her relieving herself of the sexual tension building up in her.

As time went on, the catheter continuously channeled vibrations into Melissa's genital area, fueling a persistent state of sexual excitement. This ongoing stimulation was gradually eroding her resistance. Her capacity for self-control was limited, and the incessant vibrations from the tube inserted in her vagina were relentless.

Melissa decided to place the urine bag on her lower abdomen to dampen the vibrations from the drive. She held the bag in place between her cuffed hands. The tube, which was stiff, bent back towards the bag, creating a loop. This bending caused the tube to tense, and Melissa felt this tension against the inner walls of her urethra, leading to discomfort and an urge to urinate as the tube pressed against her urethra's wall.

After some time, Melissa sighed and returned the urine bag between her legs to relieve the strain. The tension eased immediately, alleviating the pressure inside her urethra. However, this adjustment brought back the vibrations, which started to stimulate Melissa once more.

Melissa knew that Karel would not like it, if she removed the catheter without his permission. Yet, driven by her frustration, Melissa wanted this thing out of her. She decided to remove the tube.

She pinched it between her thumb and index finger, giving it a slight tug. However, she felt an internal resistance; the tube stayed put.

Surprised that she couldn’t get this thing out of her, Melissa shifted to sit cross-legged again. She examined the tube going into her and pulled at it again. She felt an uneasy tug inside her, but the catheter remained in place. In her frustration, Melissa pulled with more force. She gasped as she felt a sharp, piercing pain in her lower abdomen. The pain eased when she stopped pulling, but the tube did not come out.

She recalled Karel's explanation about a balloon inflated inside her bladder to secure the catheter. He had filled it by injecting fluid through a valve in the catheter's side.

Yet, she was determined not to endure the forced arousal from the vibrations for the rest of the trip. She hated having this invasive tube stuck in her intimate area. In an attempt to deflate the balloon, she opened the valve's cap to release the fluid. But no fluid escaped. She tried squeezing the tube, but to no avail.

It dawned on her that she needed a syringe to extract the fluid from behind the valve, something she didn't possess.

If she had a pair of scissors maybe she could cut the tube and that would let the liquid out, bypassing the valve. But she didn’t have any scissors either. Melissa realized that she had no way to free herself from the catheter. This thing would be stuck in her until Karel decided to remove it.

She rested her elbows on her knees, buried her head in her hands and sighed, frustrated from her helplessness.

After a while she adjusted her position, lying on her back with her knees bent and her feet pressed against the cage bars. Carefully setting the bag down on the floor of the cage, she tried to find some rest amidst the persistent vibrations from the catheter in her, bracing herself for their arrival at the Health Office.

Happy New Year everyone!

A new year and a new beginning.

In that spirit, I have rearranged the first few chapters a bit to make the story start in a more interesting way that hopefully gets readers hooked more quickly.

For those that have already read the original start, this is the same. The only thing that has changed is that Melissa is no longer German. She is English now.

hoggle: Just read it again I like it still if I re read it many more times I'll probably have it memorized.

lovethissite wrote: ↑Wed Jan 01, 2025 3:55 pm hoggle: Just read it again I like it still if I re read it many more times I'll probably have it memorized.

That's the spirit!

Hello Everyone!

I’ve been experimenting with text-to-speech tech to bring the story to life and ran it over the first three chapters:

Audio

• Chapter 1 - Crossing the Threshold
• Chapter 2 - Chains and Checks
• Chapter 3 - The Long Road

I have also tested it on later chapters:
(Spoiler warning for those just starting the story!)

• Chapter 38 - The Evaluation
• Chapter 39 - The Box
• Chapter 44 - Chains of Duty

Podcast

You can listen to Melissa while you're on the road! Just add this link to your podcasting app (Under something like ‘Add podcast by RSS address’ depending on your app):

https://hoggle123.s3.us-east-1.amazonaw ... vement.xml

It should look like this:
What do you think?

Feel free to share your ideas or suggestions. Thanks for checking it out!

EDIT: Added more audio links.

Hoggle: I couldn't hear your new post. I may e just me though. Good luck to you in this new form of story telling. I hope you continue to write I would rather read than hear it. Melissa's story needs a sequel and of course more interaction with more "Masters and Mistresses" sexually since she is supposed to be a sex slave not just a cow. Just a thought.

Hi Lovethissite,

Sorry to hear it didn’t work for you! The forum doesn’t allow me to embed a player here, so all I can do is link to the mp3. When I click on it, it plays in my browser.

I’ve uploaded the same audio (Chapters 1 and 39) to AO3 with an embedded player:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/60241 ... /153726706

Could you give that a try and let me know if it works?

Yes, I tried playing the first few minutes and it works fine, at least for me.