HEARTLAND (REVISED) CHAPTER THREE
Posted: Thu Jul 15, 2021 10:03 pm
HEARTLAND (REVISED) CHAPTER THREE Part One
UPDATE: I have edited the Second Part of this Chapter, near the end. The new text is in Italics
So this is an entirely new Chapter Three, the original Chapter Three will now become Chapter Four. Originally the first part of this chapter had two plot lines, one was a supernatural story the other just a regular one. I decided to separate the plot into separate story's, the supernatural themed one is now a "What If" story.
The second part of the chapter is the Mr. Mctavish story that was originally part of Chapter Seven. But I realized it no longer belonged there,, it should now happen earlier with all the new stuff I have added
A few months after her visit to HCI, Amy was still working through her feelings. She tried to stop looking at herself in the mirror nude, and put both collars into a box and buried them deep under her bed. The reminders in the mail from HCI were another matter. Their presentation of happiness in slavery made it harder for Amy to have a real break from her feelings. She thought about just throwing them away unopened, but decided the it was safer to read what was in them, just in case there was something important. The offers of slave training, professional slave gradings, and various items for sale to enhance (or enforce) the slave experience kept pushing at Amy’s slave buttons.
Amy was also facing that her relationship with Ty had become frayed. Both of them had people come into their lives that caused friction and jealousy between Amy and Ty. Amy had never suggested playing any kind of “slave games” with Ty, but Chase Powers was another thing. He was arrogant and manipulative but also an excellent horse rider. He had kissed her and Amy knew he would enjoy dominating her as a Master. But Amy realized that would also make him dangerous to play at being a slave with.
One day she received a letter that both rattled and intrigued her. She was being offered a free giveaway at HCI, it was linked to her chip so no coupon was necessarily. Amy didn’t know what to think of it, was it a trap, or above board? She made a phone call but all they said was that it was a fun opportunity.
The following week Amy was in Calgary on business and passed by the HCI store. She knew she shouldn’t go in but the curiosity got the best of her. She also wanted to confront her fears and the persistent slave feelings instead of running from them.
She walked in the front entrance and was greeted with, “Welcome Amy, please report to the Enslavement Desk for processing.” This took Amy aback, but she decided to confront this game of theirs’s.
She went up to the enslavement desk and in a firm voice inquired, “Why is your store trying to enslave me?”
Without looking up from the computer the young man replied, seemingly from a script, “Please remove your clothing and I’ll begin your enslavement process.”
Automatically Amy undid all the buttons on her blouse. She stopped herself as the item of clothing dropped to the floor. She picked it up and cleared her thoughts and spoke up. “I’m not here for that so can your stop the computer from harassing me?”
Alex, for that was his name, was so caught up in his training that he ignored what Amy was saying and came around the desk with the Slave Chip Reader/Encoder, “OK, I’ll get your info and we’ll get slaved away in no time.” He finally looked up and saw the young woman, in her bra and blue jeans, carrying her blouse in her right arm. “Why are you not naked? Please follow my directions.”
Increasing feeling both angry and fearful, Amy retorted in a firm strong voice, “I am not here to be enslaved. I do not want to be enslaved. Am I getting through to you?”
“Do not concern yourself, this will go quickly if you cooperate, you’ll be in a new home in no time enjoying your new life as a slave.” Amy stood her ground, Alex continued to use standard responses he was getting nowhere.
Management Trainee Alex Pearson was confused. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. During training they had them rehearse standard coercive enslavement procedures. But this girl wasn’t acting as the training told him she would.
Exasperated Amy walked away and went to the Customer Service desk. “Can you help me, I received a letter about some kind of free gift, but the store and the guy over there.” Amy pointed to Alex at the Enslavement Desk, “Just wants to enslave me. I was just curious what the offer was?”
Amy still had her top off so it was easy enough for the clerk, an older white woman, to read Amy’s chip. She told Amy that the offer was a free Slave Yoga class and added, “Junior over there is grand spanking new, just knows what the textbooks tell him.” She then informed Amy that the next class was in two hours and she could wait in the slave pens if she wanted.
Amy did not like that idea at all, she was angry with herself for flirting with slavery, “Is there anywhere else here to wait?”
“Not here, they don’t exactly want women sitting around when they could be processed into slave meat instead.”
Amy looked at her phone, there was a there was a Wal Mart nearby to waste some time, not much in restaurants around and anyways shouldn’t eat much before yoga. She really wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. She finally decided to avoid much more exposure to slavery and drove to the Wal Mart.
She wondered around looking at the DVD’s and clothes. She had never been a clotheshorse wanting the next fancy thing, so the Women’s Clothing Department worked for her. She just wondered around, just casually glancing at the clothes. There was nothing that caught her eye, she wandered a little more and found the slave section. It wasn’t impressive, mostly inexpensive basic slave stuff: collars, whips, cuffs and so forth. Nothing but a novice would find it stimulating.
Amy looked at her watch and realized less than an hour had gone by. There was too much time to walk around, but not enough time to go somewhere else. So, she drove to HCI and asked to wait in the kennels.
The young black female clerk placed a plastic color-coded collar around Amy’s neck, this particular one designated her as there for the slave yoga class. Though it also meant she was potential product, as Slave Yoga classes at HCI were also designed to turn free woman into slaves.
Amy removed her clothes while she was processed into the computer. The clerk cuffed her hands behind her, something Amy would have shocked her a short time ago, but now it was just no big deal. It was another not-so-subtle push towards slavery. Entering the kennel was no longer a strange or scary place to her anymore. Amy found she had a roommate. She was young, barely eighteen, raven haired and very pretty and she got up and greeted Amy with a big hug.
“I’m so happy to have a sister with me. Isn’t this going to big adventure?” Amy was curious about the girl’s enthusiasm and asked about how she ended up here. “Oh, I’ve been dreaming of this for a long time, I just devoured the slave romance books by Hilary Rodham. I knew it was the life for me. As soon as I turned eighteen, I had my dad bring me down here to be sold to my new master.” She continued on with her descriptions of an idealized life as a slave.
Amy felt sorry for her, knowing from even her limited experience as a slave that it wasn’t a life of wine and
roses. She didn’t know how to respond; she didn’t want to drop the reality of slavery on her. Getting her upset now wouldn’t help, if she changed her mind it didn’t matter, there was no way out now.
“You know Beth, slavery isn’t like what they depict in those books. You don’t control who gets you, he isn’t necessarily going to be handsome and loving. I mean, if you work at it, I’m sure you could have a good relationship with your master. But you have to forget about what you want, its about what he wants and needs. The better you serve him the better he’ll treat you.”
Beth sat down and starting wondering what she had done. Her parents didn’t have much money and getting a windfall from auctioning her certainly made them support her plans. Amy sat beside her, “Look, just hope for the best and work hard at being a good slave. I’m sure things will work out.” It didn’t take much to cheer the girl up. Beth’s immersion in slave novels propaganda wouldn’t be removed that easily and she thanked Amy.
Amy plopped down on the cot to wait out the rest of the hour till the yoga class. She wasn’t sure how she felt being in here again. She felt some worry about someone she knew seeing her, but otherwise she was neither scared, nervous or excited being locked up with slaves waiting to be auctioned.
Her reverie was broken by a familiar voice, “Amy is that you?” It was Dale, the slave monger who she had gotten to know when she ‘visited’ HCI just a few months ago.
Amy looked up, “Oh its you, how are you, Dale?”
“I’m more interested in how you are. You finally realize its too hard to remain a free woman now?”
“No, I’m just waiting on the next yoga class. I got an offer of a free class, well actually I was told it was a free gift, I was close by so my curiosity got the best of me.”
“That’s too bad, I would have loved to use you again.”
Amy wasn’t sure what to think about that. The idea didn’t turn her on, but it didn’t turn her off either. She remembered Dale fucking her hard in the ‘try out’ room, which she had to admit was a pleasant memory. The additional memory of her lesbian experience likewise was also a delightful memory.
She didn’t even give it much of a thought but she found herself going up to the bars and kneeling. He immediately realized what she was offering and placed himself in position. Amy put her hands through the bars and undid his jeans. Pulling down his pants and shorts, she caressed the familiar cock with her hands. Slowly he started to harden and he pushed it through the bars. Amy did her best, though she was still untrained in maximizing oral pleasure. Licking the head, letting the cock slowly enter her mouth through pressed lips and rolling her tongue around his manhood as it slid back and forth over her lips. Amy gave decent pleasure, though dealing with trained slave girls, Dale was used to expert penis gratification.
When he finally came, he pulled out and sprayed Amy’s face and breasts. This was something Amy hated on the rare occasion it had happened. It made her feel even more dirty and used. Dale took her to the showers and Amy was able to clean herself off. When he took her back to the kennel, he playfully swatted her ass and laughed. “You’re a good slave, you should be on the auction block as soon as possible.”
Amy had to admit, giving Dale a blowjob was almost natural. She just did it with no feelings of guilt or shame. Amy knew back in the world she would have to make sure that people didn’t think she was eager to do it. The only thing that had angered her was having herself covered in his jizz.
Finally, a clerk came back and took her out of the kennel, again securing her hands behind her back and as taken to the room where the slave yoga class was going to be held. There were eyes on Amy when she was brought in, but she was soon joined by other naked women.
When it was announced that the class would include slaves in training, and be held in the nude, a couple of women left, a few others groaned slightly, and several showed palpable excitement at the thought. Amy realized that the other women probably considered her a slave in training.
Most of the free women looked at the naked slaves with a mixture of contempt and curiosity. Amy felt neither. If anything, she felt sorry for them having experienced what she thought was a rather soft form of slavery. It helped Amy deal with her experiences thinking that a real slave’s life was so much worse than what she encountered. She didn’t want to think about the pleasure she experienced, or the almost carefree feeling it had given her.
Amy had done some slave yoga when she had been alone at home and followed along with lessons either on Slave TV or online. In high school there had been basic slave instruction once you turned seventeen. It was done in leotards, even after everyone turned eighteen. There was little support in the community for slavery, the cowboy ethos of hard work and self sufficiency were still held here. Though it was fraying under the influence of the media, the internet, and weekend cowboys buying ranches.
The class got underway and started with basic stretching exercises. While the class was distracted a series of panels on one of the walls silently slid open, revealing the participants to an audience. It took a while fore someone to notice the appreciative spectators, and this caused several free women to complain. The instructor reprimanded them, reminding them slave yoga was meant to preformed publicly and they would lose points if they quit the class now. Amy was past caring, just another bullshit enslavement trick. The class calmed down and the moves were now more physically demanding. Soon they were told to start reciting slave mantras that were projected on a screen, addressing them to the woman who was their taskmaster:
“Remember you are a slave.”
“You exist to please your Mistress.”
“Your Mistress’s happiness is your only reason to exist.”
“You have no rights.”
“You never say no to anything.”
“When you do wrong you will bring your Mistress her whip in your mouth and beg punishment.”
Soon the women were repeating them in unison, making the words reverberate. All the girls were sweating and the room was filled with the smell of aroused women.
Amy repeated the mantras, but with no conviction. Her experience as a slave, short as it was, had given her a shield against such simple inducement to slavery. She had wanted to use the yoga as a way to exorcize it from her mind. She was now realizing that going to HCI and doing slave yoga might not have been the best way to do that. She knew she should have given more thought to her plan, she had arrived almost without thinking of consequences. Her previous experience here had given her a familiarity with the place, it even felt safe. In fact, she was thinking more about a horse she was having trouble helping.
The mistress of the class started demanding the free woman do better and would strike the yoga mat of an offender with her short whip to inspire them to greater efforts. The sharp slap of the whip pulled everyone, including Amy, out of their personal reveries. The free women worked harder but soon slacked off. All of a sudden, one of the free women let out a yelp of pain as the sound mistresses whip connected with her ass. The free women’s hearts skipped a beat as the slave girls snickered at the victim.
Luckily the hour was up and so the mounting fear was abated. Both the free and slave women were made to shower under the same cool water showers. There the free women received playful touching and comments about their poor performance in the class from the slave girls. Before the free women could get dressed the mistress came in a berated them for their poor performance compared to the slaves. She insisted that they should take a full schedule of slave yoga. She then offered the classes absolutely free, but the women quickly realized that the free classes were paid for with an agreement to be enslaved if they signed on.
Amy was just happy the class was over and went back to the customer service desk to get her clothes. The mistress came up to Amy before she had a chance to start getting dressed, “Your free class came with an implied enslavement followed by more free classes. Come with me to be processed.” Amy noticed the steel slave collar in the woman’s hand and a cold chill went down her back. The mistress obviously hoped that by confronting Amy while she was still naked and vulnerable, it would be easier to bully her into slavery. Amy did feel insecure with this woman making threats to her, her body betrayed her and she could feel her pussy juices start to flow.
But Amy had experience with attempts to enslave her, “No thank you.” She said decisively.
“But it was part of the deal.”
“Nothing was said about that. I didn’t sign anything. There were no Terms and Conditions to agree to.”
The woman shoved her hand between Amy’s legs and pushed her fingers into her pleasure box, which to Amy’s surprise, neither embarrassed or distressed her. “I can feel your Slave Hot and Juicy, your body is ready and anxious for enslavement.”
Amy knew there were truth in mistresses’ words, but defended herself never the less, “That’s because I had some very intense sex before coming here.” A good excuse. Mistress merely snorted at Amy defense of herself, giving her a look of superiority, which made her nervous. Amy’s luck held as the woman was called away by a call on her phone.
Once Amy was dressed, she tried to walk out of the store, which set off a buzzer. Worried that it was her slave chip, she had been told that it might accidently tag her as HCI property. She went to the customer support desk, where the same older woman that Amy had met earlier was still there. “Why did the store buzz me.” Amy asked with a little nervousness.
The woman looked at here and smiled, “Don’t worry dear, you just forgot to have me take off your collar.” And to the young woman’s relief she came around the desk and cut the collar off. Then she swiped it across the top of a metal contraption and said, “OK, I just wiped the security tag, you can take the collar, free of charge.”
Skeptical, Amy asked, “Are there any consequences, if I take it? If I take it, am I agreeing to enslavement or something?”
The woman smiled again, “Don’t worry, the collar is just going to the garbage otherwise. There’s nothing linking it to you. The company encourages us to give them away, probably to inspire repeat customers…and hopefully new slave stock.”
Relieved, Amy waked out of the store, a little on edge wondering if the buzzer would sound again. When it failed to do so she relaxed and walked to the truck.
The next day a panel van with the insignia of HCI drove into Heartland. Luckily Grandfather Jack wasn’t there, though he probably didn’t know what HCI was except that Amy sometimes got mail from them. Amy answered the door and she froze when she saw the HCI logo on the men’s outfits. Amy’s blood ran cold with fear, but she tried to keep a calm demeanor. “Hello, can I help you?”
“Yes, we are here to pick up a slave, name of Kate, she’s scheduled for a slave yoga class.”
The name was the thunderbolt through her system. It was her slave name, did the manager at HCI, Ms. Gill, use that name for her? She tried to keep her composure but she could feel herself shaking in fear. Her palms were getting sweaty and her mouth was getting dry. She crocked out a response, “No one here by that name.”
Sensing her nervousness, they interrogated her, “Are you sure you’re not the slave? Are you scheduled for enslavement after the class?”
Not sure how to respond Amy decided to speak the truth, it was one less thing to worry about, “I had a class a few days ago, it was a free class and I didn’t sign up for any more.” Feeling unsteady she showed them her driver’s license. “My name is Amy, not Kate.” She could feel a slight wetting of her vagina, was this making her horny?
Amy put them on the defensive, “Look didn’t you see the sign at the gate? It says ‘No Slaves Allowed’ so there are no slaves here.”
The man looked at his pad, “I’m looking at the order here and this is the address.”
Amy looked at the pad, it was the right address. “Do you have any information on this slave you’re looking for?”
“Yes, she’s blond, blue eyed, 5’ 7”, 36C, Slave ID #376-690-254.” He looked at the picture of the slave girl on his computer pad and then looked at Amy, “The picture does look like you.”
“Let me see that!” And Amy grabbed the pad and saw the picture. The slave girl was naked of course, and did look a bit like her, almost like sisters. But looking closely you could tell it wasn’t Amy.
“I’ll admit she looks a bit like me, but she is taller and has a completely different slave ID number.”
“We will have to check that can you come to the van please?” Amy followed them and without being asked she pulled opened her blouse and pulled it and her bra strap down off her shoulder. The reader was pressed against her skin and she heard the beep as it opened her information. “OK your ID number is 267-456-873, so you’re not the slave we’re looking for.” Amy was starting to relax when the man said, “We got a message when we scanned your chip, it says to call HCI for status. I’d better secure you for safe keeping.”
Amy’s heart jumped and her chest tightened as her clothes were removed and a collar secured to her neck with a chain that was locked to a rod in the van. She was scared, she told herself they had said this could happen but it would be cleared up quickly. She tried to breath deeply to calm herself, but the cold was making her nipples hard and she could feel her juices dripping down her leg, quickly getting cold. She could hear the man talking on the phone, deciding her fate. She looked around and noticed there were two other slaves in cages in the van. Both were white, one was young and brunette and the other older and raven haired.
They started to make comments about her, “You’re a cutie.” “You for sale?” “Ready for the auction block?”
Meanwhile the man on the phone was asking about Amy and why was she flagged by the system. “Finally, he came over and informed her, “OK they told us there was a computer glitch with you, so your clear.” Then he noticed new wetness, “What do we have here?” And he put his hand between her legs and smiled, “You’re all nice slave wet and juicy. Are you ready to be a slave?”
Amy, having people suggesting slavery to her way too often, was not frozen in fear at this attempt to enslave her. She was worried and nervous of course, but no longer overwhelmed with fear at her situation. Yet she had to admit to herself there was some feeling of excitement and even pleasure at the thought of slavery. And yes, the thought of being enslaved had made her slave wet. She just had to take some deep breaths to regain her composure.
While she was doing this though she was assaulted by the application of two fingers into her pussy. This was giving her shivers of pleasure instead what would have been outrage just a few short months ago. Her body started riding the fingers, swaying in rhythm to their movements. She closed her eyes and let the pleasure flow through her. She ignored her fears and just accepted she was being used like a slave, again. She let go like she remembered how and quickly came to orgasm.
“Slavegasam!” said on of the slaves in the cages.
“So, I guess that settles it, you’ll coming with us to HCI to be processed?” the older driver inquired.
Amy was looking for her words when she was saved by Mallory Wells, a long-time friend who had spent so much time at Heartland one would have thought she lived there. Mallory was a short, cute, ball of energy, very talkative with a tendency to stick her nose in everything. She couldn’t see slave naked Amy who was hidden behind the van, she also couldn’t see the HCI sign on the side so she approached and called out. “Hey what are you doing here?”
Realizing that Mallory might see her Amy firmly said, “No, I don’t want to be a slave. Now please unlock me and let me get dressed or there will be hell to pay when my friend gets closer.”
The drivers decided it wasn’t worth the trouble to push enslaving the girl and they released her. Amy quickly got dressed as Mallory approached. One of the drivers who had approached Mallory and asked her name. He than asked if she knew any slaves named Kate and she answered in the negative. He told her that they were looking for a slave but it was turning out to be a wild goose chase. He inquired if she was interested in enslavement. “Maybe you can make this trip worthwhile? Your friend not interested but you’re good looking and a lot of owners like slender slaves. How about we collar and crate you and we’ll take you to HCI for processing?”
The spitfire angrily responded, “Look here, I’m only seventeen so keep your grimy paws off me. And I’m not going to be paraded around for men to ogle me and buy me to serve their twisted little fantasies.”
At this the younger driver held up his hands defensively and regretting crossing this miniature wild cat, he apologized, “Wo, wo, sorry I suggested it, I’m just doing my job.”
This little scene slowed Mallory’s advance and gave Amy time to get dressed. She came around from the back of the truck and addressed Mallory, “Its OK Mallory, I told them they have the wrong place so they’ll be leaving now.”
“What are they doing here? Didn’t they see the sign No Slaves Allowed?” An angry Mallory responded.
“They thought there was a slave here for them to pick up. Its not a big deal. But don’t tell anyone OK, grandpa especially would get angry.” Amy looked at Mallory hopefully.
“OK, but you know how hard it is for me to keep a secret.”
“Well just don’t think about it.”
As the door to the panel van was being closed one of the slaves inside called out, “Hey blondie, maybe we’ll get you next time.”
Mallory’s mouth opened in surprised, “Are you telling me there are slaves in that truck?”
Rather embarrassed Amy tried to explain it away, “Yes there are, they seem to like trying to drag other women into slavery. It’s probably a good idea that we should avoid interacting with slave girls in the future, you might think your helping them but they will probably just try to drag you down with them.”
Mallory started peppering Amy with questions about the slave in the van. Amy tried to answer truthfully, without giving too much information. It was probably better to satisfy Mallory’s always intense curiosity than try to deflect it. That would just make Mallory suspicious, which was another one of her less endearing traits.
Amy decided to she needed a shower to clean herself of the smell of slavery. She found herself paying a lot of attention to her breasts and clit. Right now, the pleasure she was feeling was mixed up with slavery. Thoughts of a sensual life serving a master filtered in. She was feeling unfulfilled as her on again off again boyfriend Ty were off again. The loss of intimacy was frustrating her, she almost though about being a slave for a weekend. Was that even possible? Who would she serve? Could she slip back into her life when the weekend was over?
Then Fate Intervened, again.
UPDATE: I have edited the Second Part of this Chapter, near the end. The new text is in Italics
So this is an entirely new Chapter Three, the original Chapter Three will now become Chapter Four. Originally the first part of this chapter had two plot lines, one was a supernatural story the other just a regular one. I decided to separate the plot into separate story's, the supernatural themed one is now a "What If" story.
The second part of the chapter is the Mr. Mctavish story that was originally part of Chapter Seven. But I realized it no longer belonged there,, it should now happen earlier with all the new stuff I have added
A few months after her visit to HCI, Amy was still working through her feelings. She tried to stop looking at herself in the mirror nude, and put both collars into a box and buried them deep under her bed. The reminders in the mail from HCI were another matter. Their presentation of happiness in slavery made it harder for Amy to have a real break from her feelings. She thought about just throwing them away unopened, but decided the it was safer to read what was in them, just in case there was something important. The offers of slave training, professional slave gradings, and various items for sale to enhance (or enforce) the slave experience kept pushing at Amy’s slave buttons.
Amy was also facing that her relationship with Ty had become frayed. Both of them had people come into their lives that caused friction and jealousy between Amy and Ty. Amy had never suggested playing any kind of “slave games” with Ty, but Chase Powers was another thing. He was arrogant and manipulative but also an excellent horse rider. He had kissed her and Amy knew he would enjoy dominating her as a Master. But Amy realized that would also make him dangerous to play at being a slave with.
One day she received a letter that both rattled and intrigued her. She was being offered a free giveaway at HCI, it was linked to her chip so no coupon was necessarily. Amy didn’t know what to think of it, was it a trap, or above board? She made a phone call but all they said was that it was a fun opportunity.
The following week Amy was in Calgary on business and passed by the HCI store. She knew she shouldn’t go in but the curiosity got the best of her. She also wanted to confront her fears and the persistent slave feelings instead of running from them.
She walked in the front entrance and was greeted with, “Welcome Amy, please report to the Enslavement Desk for processing.” This took Amy aback, but she decided to confront this game of theirs’s.
She went up to the enslavement desk and in a firm voice inquired, “Why is your store trying to enslave me?”
Without looking up from the computer the young man replied, seemingly from a script, “Please remove your clothing and I’ll begin your enslavement process.”
Automatically Amy undid all the buttons on her blouse. She stopped herself as the item of clothing dropped to the floor. She picked it up and cleared her thoughts and spoke up. “I’m not here for that so can your stop the computer from harassing me?”
Alex, for that was his name, was so caught up in his training that he ignored what Amy was saying and came around the desk with the Slave Chip Reader/Encoder, “OK, I’ll get your info and we’ll get slaved away in no time.” He finally looked up and saw the young woman, in her bra and blue jeans, carrying her blouse in her right arm. “Why are you not naked? Please follow my directions.”
Increasing feeling both angry and fearful, Amy retorted in a firm strong voice, “I am not here to be enslaved. I do not want to be enslaved. Am I getting through to you?”
“Do not concern yourself, this will go quickly if you cooperate, you’ll be in a new home in no time enjoying your new life as a slave.” Amy stood her ground, Alex continued to use standard responses he was getting nowhere.
Management Trainee Alex Pearson was confused. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. During training they had them rehearse standard coercive enslavement procedures. But this girl wasn’t acting as the training told him she would.
Exasperated Amy walked away and went to the Customer Service desk. “Can you help me, I received a letter about some kind of free gift, but the store and the guy over there.” Amy pointed to Alex at the Enslavement Desk, “Just wants to enslave me. I was just curious what the offer was?”
Amy still had her top off so it was easy enough for the clerk, an older white woman, to read Amy’s chip. She told Amy that the offer was a free Slave Yoga class and added, “Junior over there is grand spanking new, just knows what the textbooks tell him.” She then informed Amy that the next class was in two hours and she could wait in the slave pens if she wanted.
Amy did not like that idea at all, she was angry with herself for flirting with slavery, “Is there anywhere else here to wait?”
“Not here, they don’t exactly want women sitting around when they could be processed into slave meat instead.”
Amy looked at her phone, there was a there was a Wal Mart nearby to waste some time, not much in restaurants around and anyways shouldn’t eat much before yoga. She really wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. She finally decided to avoid much more exposure to slavery and drove to the Wal Mart.
She wondered around looking at the DVD’s and clothes. She had never been a clotheshorse wanting the next fancy thing, so the Women’s Clothing Department worked for her. She just wondered around, just casually glancing at the clothes. There was nothing that caught her eye, she wandered a little more and found the slave section. It wasn’t impressive, mostly inexpensive basic slave stuff: collars, whips, cuffs and so forth. Nothing but a novice would find it stimulating.
Amy looked at her watch and realized less than an hour had gone by. There was too much time to walk around, but not enough time to go somewhere else. So, she drove to HCI and asked to wait in the kennels.
The young black female clerk placed a plastic color-coded collar around Amy’s neck, this particular one designated her as there for the slave yoga class. Though it also meant she was potential product, as Slave Yoga classes at HCI were also designed to turn free woman into slaves.
Amy removed her clothes while she was processed into the computer. The clerk cuffed her hands behind her, something Amy would have shocked her a short time ago, but now it was just no big deal. It was another not-so-subtle push towards slavery. Entering the kennel was no longer a strange or scary place to her anymore. Amy found she had a roommate. She was young, barely eighteen, raven haired and very pretty and she got up and greeted Amy with a big hug.
“I’m so happy to have a sister with me. Isn’t this going to big adventure?” Amy was curious about the girl’s enthusiasm and asked about how she ended up here. “Oh, I’ve been dreaming of this for a long time, I just devoured the slave romance books by Hilary Rodham. I knew it was the life for me. As soon as I turned eighteen, I had my dad bring me down here to be sold to my new master.” She continued on with her descriptions of an idealized life as a slave.
Amy felt sorry for her, knowing from even her limited experience as a slave that it wasn’t a life of wine and
roses. She didn’t know how to respond; she didn’t want to drop the reality of slavery on her. Getting her upset now wouldn’t help, if she changed her mind it didn’t matter, there was no way out now.
“You know Beth, slavery isn’t like what they depict in those books. You don’t control who gets you, he isn’t necessarily going to be handsome and loving. I mean, if you work at it, I’m sure you could have a good relationship with your master. But you have to forget about what you want, its about what he wants and needs. The better you serve him the better he’ll treat you.”
Beth sat down and starting wondering what she had done. Her parents didn’t have much money and getting a windfall from auctioning her certainly made them support her plans. Amy sat beside her, “Look, just hope for the best and work hard at being a good slave. I’m sure things will work out.” It didn’t take much to cheer the girl up. Beth’s immersion in slave novels propaganda wouldn’t be removed that easily and she thanked Amy.
Amy plopped down on the cot to wait out the rest of the hour till the yoga class. She wasn’t sure how she felt being in here again. She felt some worry about someone she knew seeing her, but otherwise she was neither scared, nervous or excited being locked up with slaves waiting to be auctioned.
Her reverie was broken by a familiar voice, “Amy is that you?” It was Dale, the slave monger who she had gotten to know when she ‘visited’ HCI just a few months ago.
Amy looked up, “Oh its you, how are you, Dale?”
“I’m more interested in how you are. You finally realize its too hard to remain a free woman now?”
“No, I’m just waiting on the next yoga class. I got an offer of a free class, well actually I was told it was a free gift, I was close by so my curiosity got the best of me.”
“That’s too bad, I would have loved to use you again.”
Amy wasn’t sure what to think about that. The idea didn’t turn her on, but it didn’t turn her off either. She remembered Dale fucking her hard in the ‘try out’ room, which she had to admit was a pleasant memory. The additional memory of her lesbian experience likewise was also a delightful memory.
She didn’t even give it much of a thought but she found herself going up to the bars and kneeling. He immediately realized what she was offering and placed himself in position. Amy put her hands through the bars and undid his jeans. Pulling down his pants and shorts, she caressed the familiar cock with her hands. Slowly he started to harden and he pushed it through the bars. Amy did her best, though she was still untrained in maximizing oral pleasure. Licking the head, letting the cock slowly enter her mouth through pressed lips and rolling her tongue around his manhood as it slid back and forth over her lips. Amy gave decent pleasure, though dealing with trained slave girls, Dale was used to expert penis gratification.
When he finally came, he pulled out and sprayed Amy’s face and breasts. This was something Amy hated on the rare occasion it had happened. It made her feel even more dirty and used. Dale took her to the showers and Amy was able to clean herself off. When he took her back to the kennel, he playfully swatted her ass and laughed. “You’re a good slave, you should be on the auction block as soon as possible.”
Amy had to admit, giving Dale a blowjob was almost natural. She just did it with no feelings of guilt or shame. Amy knew back in the world she would have to make sure that people didn’t think she was eager to do it. The only thing that had angered her was having herself covered in his jizz.
Finally, a clerk came back and took her out of the kennel, again securing her hands behind her back and as taken to the room where the slave yoga class was going to be held. There were eyes on Amy when she was brought in, but she was soon joined by other naked women.
When it was announced that the class would include slaves in training, and be held in the nude, a couple of women left, a few others groaned slightly, and several showed palpable excitement at the thought. Amy realized that the other women probably considered her a slave in training.
Most of the free women looked at the naked slaves with a mixture of contempt and curiosity. Amy felt neither. If anything, she felt sorry for them having experienced what she thought was a rather soft form of slavery. It helped Amy deal with her experiences thinking that a real slave’s life was so much worse than what she encountered. She didn’t want to think about the pleasure she experienced, or the almost carefree feeling it had given her.
Amy had done some slave yoga when she had been alone at home and followed along with lessons either on Slave TV or online. In high school there had been basic slave instruction once you turned seventeen. It was done in leotards, even after everyone turned eighteen. There was little support in the community for slavery, the cowboy ethos of hard work and self sufficiency were still held here. Though it was fraying under the influence of the media, the internet, and weekend cowboys buying ranches.
The class got underway and started with basic stretching exercises. While the class was distracted a series of panels on one of the walls silently slid open, revealing the participants to an audience. It took a while fore someone to notice the appreciative spectators, and this caused several free women to complain. The instructor reprimanded them, reminding them slave yoga was meant to preformed publicly and they would lose points if they quit the class now. Amy was past caring, just another bullshit enslavement trick. The class calmed down and the moves were now more physically demanding. Soon they were told to start reciting slave mantras that were projected on a screen, addressing them to the woman who was their taskmaster:
“Remember you are a slave.”
“You exist to please your Mistress.”
“Your Mistress’s happiness is your only reason to exist.”
“You have no rights.”
“You never say no to anything.”
“When you do wrong you will bring your Mistress her whip in your mouth and beg punishment.”
Soon the women were repeating them in unison, making the words reverberate. All the girls were sweating and the room was filled with the smell of aroused women.
Amy repeated the mantras, but with no conviction. Her experience as a slave, short as it was, had given her a shield against such simple inducement to slavery. She had wanted to use the yoga as a way to exorcize it from her mind. She was now realizing that going to HCI and doing slave yoga might not have been the best way to do that. She knew she should have given more thought to her plan, she had arrived almost without thinking of consequences. Her previous experience here had given her a familiarity with the place, it even felt safe. In fact, she was thinking more about a horse she was having trouble helping.
The mistress of the class started demanding the free woman do better and would strike the yoga mat of an offender with her short whip to inspire them to greater efforts. The sharp slap of the whip pulled everyone, including Amy, out of their personal reveries. The free women worked harder but soon slacked off. All of a sudden, one of the free women let out a yelp of pain as the sound mistresses whip connected with her ass. The free women’s hearts skipped a beat as the slave girls snickered at the victim.
Luckily the hour was up and so the mounting fear was abated. Both the free and slave women were made to shower under the same cool water showers. There the free women received playful touching and comments about their poor performance in the class from the slave girls. Before the free women could get dressed the mistress came in a berated them for their poor performance compared to the slaves. She insisted that they should take a full schedule of slave yoga. She then offered the classes absolutely free, but the women quickly realized that the free classes were paid for with an agreement to be enslaved if they signed on.
Amy was just happy the class was over and went back to the customer service desk to get her clothes. The mistress came up to Amy before she had a chance to start getting dressed, “Your free class came with an implied enslavement followed by more free classes. Come with me to be processed.” Amy noticed the steel slave collar in the woman’s hand and a cold chill went down her back. The mistress obviously hoped that by confronting Amy while she was still naked and vulnerable, it would be easier to bully her into slavery. Amy did feel insecure with this woman making threats to her, her body betrayed her and she could feel her pussy juices start to flow.
But Amy had experience with attempts to enslave her, “No thank you.” She said decisively.
“But it was part of the deal.”
“Nothing was said about that. I didn’t sign anything. There were no Terms and Conditions to agree to.”
The woman shoved her hand between Amy’s legs and pushed her fingers into her pleasure box, which to Amy’s surprise, neither embarrassed or distressed her. “I can feel your Slave Hot and Juicy, your body is ready and anxious for enslavement.”
Amy knew there were truth in mistresses’ words, but defended herself never the less, “That’s because I had some very intense sex before coming here.” A good excuse. Mistress merely snorted at Amy defense of herself, giving her a look of superiority, which made her nervous. Amy’s luck held as the woman was called away by a call on her phone.
Once Amy was dressed, she tried to walk out of the store, which set off a buzzer. Worried that it was her slave chip, she had been told that it might accidently tag her as HCI property. She went to the customer support desk, where the same older woman that Amy had met earlier was still there. “Why did the store buzz me.” Amy asked with a little nervousness.
The woman looked at here and smiled, “Don’t worry dear, you just forgot to have me take off your collar.” And to the young woman’s relief she came around the desk and cut the collar off. Then she swiped it across the top of a metal contraption and said, “OK, I just wiped the security tag, you can take the collar, free of charge.”
Skeptical, Amy asked, “Are there any consequences, if I take it? If I take it, am I agreeing to enslavement or something?”
The woman smiled again, “Don’t worry, the collar is just going to the garbage otherwise. There’s nothing linking it to you. The company encourages us to give them away, probably to inspire repeat customers…and hopefully new slave stock.”
Relieved, Amy waked out of the store, a little on edge wondering if the buzzer would sound again. When it failed to do so she relaxed and walked to the truck.
The next day a panel van with the insignia of HCI drove into Heartland. Luckily Grandfather Jack wasn’t there, though he probably didn’t know what HCI was except that Amy sometimes got mail from them. Amy answered the door and she froze when she saw the HCI logo on the men’s outfits. Amy’s blood ran cold with fear, but she tried to keep a calm demeanor. “Hello, can I help you?”
“Yes, we are here to pick up a slave, name of Kate, she’s scheduled for a slave yoga class.”
The name was the thunderbolt through her system. It was her slave name, did the manager at HCI, Ms. Gill, use that name for her? She tried to keep her composure but she could feel herself shaking in fear. Her palms were getting sweaty and her mouth was getting dry. She crocked out a response, “No one here by that name.”
Sensing her nervousness, they interrogated her, “Are you sure you’re not the slave? Are you scheduled for enslavement after the class?”
Not sure how to respond Amy decided to speak the truth, it was one less thing to worry about, “I had a class a few days ago, it was a free class and I didn’t sign up for any more.” Feeling unsteady she showed them her driver’s license. “My name is Amy, not Kate.” She could feel a slight wetting of her vagina, was this making her horny?
Amy put them on the defensive, “Look didn’t you see the sign at the gate? It says ‘No Slaves Allowed’ so there are no slaves here.”
The man looked at his pad, “I’m looking at the order here and this is the address.”
Amy looked at the pad, it was the right address. “Do you have any information on this slave you’re looking for?”
“Yes, she’s blond, blue eyed, 5’ 7”, 36C, Slave ID #376-690-254.” He looked at the picture of the slave girl on his computer pad and then looked at Amy, “The picture does look like you.”
“Let me see that!” And Amy grabbed the pad and saw the picture. The slave girl was naked of course, and did look a bit like her, almost like sisters. But looking closely you could tell it wasn’t Amy.
“I’ll admit she looks a bit like me, but she is taller and has a completely different slave ID number.”
“We will have to check that can you come to the van please?” Amy followed them and without being asked she pulled opened her blouse and pulled it and her bra strap down off her shoulder. The reader was pressed against her skin and she heard the beep as it opened her information. “OK your ID number is 267-456-873, so you’re not the slave we’re looking for.” Amy was starting to relax when the man said, “We got a message when we scanned your chip, it says to call HCI for status. I’d better secure you for safe keeping.”
Amy’s heart jumped and her chest tightened as her clothes were removed and a collar secured to her neck with a chain that was locked to a rod in the van. She was scared, she told herself they had said this could happen but it would be cleared up quickly. She tried to breath deeply to calm herself, but the cold was making her nipples hard and she could feel her juices dripping down her leg, quickly getting cold. She could hear the man talking on the phone, deciding her fate. She looked around and noticed there were two other slaves in cages in the van. Both were white, one was young and brunette and the other older and raven haired.
They started to make comments about her, “You’re a cutie.” “You for sale?” “Ready for the auction block?”
Meanwhile the man on the phone was asking about Amy and why was she flagged by the system. “Finally, he came over and informed her, “OK they told us there was a computer glitch with you, so your clear.” Then he noticed new wetness, “What do we have here?” And he put his hand between her legs and smiled, “You’re all nice slave wet and juicy. Are you ready to be a slave?”
Amy, having people suggesting slavery to her way too often, was not frozen in fear at this attempt to enslave her. She was worried and nervous of course, but no longer overwhelmed with fear at her situation. Yet she had to admit to herself there was some feeling of excitement and even pleasure at the thought of slavery. And yes, the thought of being enslaved had made her slave wet. She just had to take some deep breaths to regain her composure.
While she was doing this though she was assaulted by the application of two fingers into her pussy. This was giving her shivers of pleasure instead what would have been outrage just a few short months ago. Her body started riding the fingers, swaying in rhythm to their movements. She closed her eyes and let the pleasure flow through her. She ignored her fears and just accepted she was being used like a slave, again. She let go like she remembered how and quickly came to orgasm.
“Slavegasam!” said on of the slaves in the cages.
“So, I guess that settles it, you’ll coming with us to HCI to be processed?” the older driver inquired.
Amy was looking for her words when she was saved by Mallory Wells, a long-time friend who had spent so much time at Heartland one would have thought she lived there. Mallory was a short, cute, ball of energy, very talkative with a tendency to stick her nose in everything. She couldn’t see slave naked Amy who was hidden behind the van, she also couldn’t see the HCI sign on the side so she approached and called out. “Hey what are you doing here?”
Realizing that Mallory might see her Amy firmly said, “No, I don’t want to be a slave. Now please unlock me and let me get dressed or there will be hell to pay when my friend gets closer.”
The drivers decided it wasn’t worth the trouble to push enslaving the girl and they released her. Amy quickly got dressed as Mallory approached. One of the drivers who had approached Mallory and asked her name. He than asked if she knew any slaves named Kate and she answered in the negative. He told her that they were looking for a slave but it was turning out to be a wild goose chase. He inquired if she was interested in enslavement. “Maybe you can make this trip worthwhile? Your friend not interested but you’re good looking and a lot of owners like slender slaves. How about we collar and crate you and we’ll take you to HCI for processing?”
The spitfire angrily responded, “Look here, I’m only seventeen so keep your grimy paws off me. And I’m not going to be paraded around for men to ogle me and buy me to serve their twisted little fantasies.”
At this the younger driver held up his hands defensively and regretting crossing this miniature wild cat, he apologized, “Wo, wo, sorry I suggested it, I’m just doing my job.”
This little scene slowed Mallory’s advance and gave Amy time to get dressed. She came around from the back of the truck and addressed Mallory, “Its OK Mallory, I told them they have the wrong place so they’ll be leaving now.”
“What are they doing here? Didn’t they see the sign No Slaves Allowed?” An angry Mallory responded.
“They thought there was a slave here for them to pick up. Its not a big deal. But don’t tell anyone OK, grandpa especially would get angry.” Amy looked at Mallory hopefully.
“OK, but you know how hard it is for me to keep a secret.”
“Well just don’t think about it.”
As the door to the panel van was being closed one of the slaves inside called out, “Hey blondie, maybe we’ll get you next time.”
Mallory’s mouth opened in surprised, “Are you telling me there are slaves in that truck?”
Rather embarrassed Amy tried to explain it away, “Yes there are, they seem to like trying to drag other women into slavery. It’s probably a good idea that we should avoid interacting with slave girls in the future, you might think your helping them but they will probably just try to drag you down with them.”
Mallory started peppering Amy with questions about the slave in the van. Amy tried to answer truthfully, without giving too much information. It was probably better to satisfy Mallory’s always intense curiosity than try to deflect it. That would just make Mallory suspicious, which was another one of her less endearing traits.
Amy decided to she needed a shower to clean herself of the smell of slavery. She found herself paying a lot of attention to her breasts and clit. Right now, the pleasure she was feeling was mixed up with slavery. Thoughts of a sensual life serving a master filtered in. She was feeling unfulfilled as her on again off again boyfriend Ty were off again. The loss of intimacy was frustrating her, she almost though about being a slave for a weekend. Was that even possible? Who would she serve? Could she slip back into her life when the weekend was over?
Then Fate Intervened, again.