The girls sat around the table, full from the meal but vaguely quiet. It had been a good evening. They were all out one last time at one of the nicer places in town to, if not enjoy themselves, at least have a good memory to say goodbye on. Ever since they were young they’d been their own clique in school, their birthdays all fell within just 7 days, and for as long as each could remember they’d been known as The June Girls as a result. It helped they all looked a little alike; a little on the tall side for their age, athletically built, with the kind of long hair, soft smiles, and almond shaped eyes every Northerner dreamed of for their house slave. Each and every one had made the cheer squad at school, and enjoyed the attention that came with it. While somewhat similar, though, they were easily distinguished visually by skin and hair colour. Amy had brown hair in a single ponytail with skin that said she sunbathed just often enough to hide a natural pale tone, Emily’s platinum sun-bleached blonde hair matched her surfer’s tan to a tee and fell in a tumble of glossy curls to her waist, Jacqueline’s auburn braid was set off by cute freckles that lined her dimples as she talked, and Evelyn’s straight and jet black hair was in stark contrast to her relatively pale skin.
A silence descended. Each of the girls was slightly uncomfortable. None wanted to leave the restaurant, but none wanted to turn to the next part of the conversation. There was a general hubbub around them as families dined together, enjoying the fairly classy ambiance. The whole place was light and modern, decked out in cream and gold with warm lights glinting through glass dividers that broke up most of the conversational noise. Server slaves were given aprons that fully covered their fronts with black stockings, and the legally required ballet boots to complete the outfit.
Jacqueline seemed a little taken with their server. So far Evelyn had counted at least twice when she asked for a refill of her drink that Jacqueline had had to stifle herself by biting her lip. It probably wouldn’t be so bad but the slave poured from the traditional over the shoulder position, pushing her breasts into Jacqueline’s back. Light piano music was supplied by a slave who straddled a fuck machine; passers-by could press a green button to give her three minutes of vibration, or a red button for three minutes of shocks. The pianist was good enough they heard few screams. Emily drained a glass of mediocre red wine and spoke up first, “I’m booked in to be inspected in the morning. 9am at this new boutique place in the old police station. Dad’s dropping me off.” It was unspoken that there was no suggestion of her being picked up, or making her own way home.
“Lucky you,” said Jacqueline, “I’ve got to go on the Metro to the BFA building. They didn’t even give me a time, just a day. I’ve got to be there next Monday…”
“Me too!” said Amy, “We could travel in together, at least we’ll have someone to talk to while we wait. Maybe we would even ask to…you know….go together…”
Evelyn looked away from what had been distracting her for the last twenty minutes and back to the table “You know as well as the rest of us that’s not how it works. Except for Emily we’ll get our PI done, and if someone’s bought us we get shipped off, or if not it’s either be held at the BFA until auction, or go on a bulk purchase to Girl-Mart, or if you’re very lucky one of those slave trader orgs that kits out offices, cafes, brothels. I suppose if we wanted an easier time we could all book into where Emily’s going…those boutique places get weirdos from time to time, but I hear they generally try to match their cunts to an appropriate Master.” Evelyn sighed. “Whoever buys me I hope they facerape as well as the football team, I’ll miss those guys.”
“Oh yeah,” said Jacqueline with a sly grin, “honourary goth cheerleader of the year. Some of the sounds you made in that locker room…”
“Guys love that stuff, and the runny makeup, there’s some pics of it on my registry page I think…I don’t know who’s going to buy me, but those pictures should convince them of my oral skills at least.” Some muted giggles ran around the table, and the conversation moved on. Evelyn went back to observing what she had been distracted by previously.
Two tables away sitting on his own was an SEFR man. He didn’t look like the usual type aside from the regulation issue blue uniform, near universal mirrored shades, and the amount of people who seemed very keen to avoid eye contact. He was making his way through a massive bloody steak with gusto, occasionally flipping morsels to the Agent-Slave kneeling at his side, her head resting gently on his thigh. The Master-Agent had a chiselled jaw covered in a few days’ growth, slicked back dark hair, and looked to be in the sort of shape that said he was out in the field a lot. The Agent-Slave meanwhile, she thought, was gorgeous. She wore the blue leggings and sports top assigned to girls in the field, but also the brown half-length jacket they were sometimes given. She was apparently a level 5 agent called Sassyminx if the patches were any indication. Idly Evelyn played with a lock of her hair while she imagined being arrested by Sassyminx. Obviously it would be a mistake, she’d never do anything wrong, but Sassyminx would tackle her to the ground, put a knee into her back and force her struggling arms into handcuffs.
She’d beg, she’d plead about how she was a good girl, well brought up, but Sassyminx would have none of it, pinning her there with her soft warm body until her Master-Agent could arrive. One charming smile and she’d no longer resist arrest. Slowly her fantasy unwound into her on her knees still cuffed having her head shoved down again and again onto the Master-Agent’s cock by Sassyminx. She’d try to pull back to breathe but Sassyminx’s gentle strength would soon have her with a throatful of cock once more, tears streaming down her face then–…
“Ev? Ev?” Amy asked with a look of concern across her face, “You looked miles away Ev, what’s on your mind?”
“Just thinking of a really tasty snack I’m probably going to miss…” Evelyn replied wistfully.
“I hear you,” said Emily. “I’ve seen what my slave mother had to eat. I wonder if my new owner will slave-wife me and let me eat human food still?”
Amy rolled her eyes “I’ve seen the crap you eat now, Em, I’m not sure that counts as human food!”
“Hey, look Ames, just because you don’t like sauerkraut or gherkins is no reason not to call it food, my family have been eating that stuff for generations…”
“Yeah, Em, and they’re still on the first jar!”
Everyone laughed, and slowly Evelyn rejoined the conversation which moved onto happier topics as after-dinner drinks arrived for them all. Amy’s older sister had a fairly good job it seemed, and although she couldn’t afford the Freedom pass for Amy was already saving money into her buyback fund, Jacqueline said she still had one or two more cuntmatch profiles to try,
Evelyn noticed the agent was talking on his phone, she stared at him for a few seconds before his gaze met hers and she quickly looked away, her pale skin reddening as he flashed her a boyish smile that almost made her want to march over, pull the Slavecop off him and rest her own head on his thighs, ready for whatever use he wanted to put her to. It took a few ragged breaths to get the image of him brutally deflowering her against the wall in the alley outside out of her head. Something was making her almost unbearably horny, she realised, she’d have to work that one out herself in the shower at home.
She turned back again to the conversation at the table until a shadow fell over her, and the talking stopped dead, in fact the atmosphere of the entire restaurant seemed to hush, with more than a few side-eyes hitting their table.
“Evening sluts.” said the agent as he placed his chair between Evelyn and Amy, sitting on it so that he leant forwards onto the backrest, and he flashed a disarming smile around the table. “Don’t worry, none of you is in any trouble, I checked you all off against the registry from the restaurant’s camera records earlier, not a blemish on any of your records. I need you to settle something for me since Minxy here’s a little out of touch with the opinion of the average woman close to her e-day.” All the girls listened attentively. Normally they’d be terrified of an SEFR man, but this one seemed almost friendly. “The names Shafter, Agent Max Shafter, SEFR. I’ve just got a few questions for you, they’re all really simple. Minxy if you could record the answers for when we get back that would be swell.”
The brunette at his side nodded, and pressed a stud on her jacket collar, Evelyn guessed she had some sort of covert recorder in there for when they were out together. “Recording, Master”, she said. Her voice was a purr that set Evelyn off again. She started to sweat as she imagined herself tangled in the leggy brunette’s thighs.
“So…” Shafter continued “…as proud Pussiana residents I’m sure you’ll all agree that our system is by far the most effective in the world at regulating and protecting the safety of women.” The girls nodded and verbally agreed, they all knew what it was like outside. Other slave nations were far more brutal than their own nation, and in the pre-slavery nations without any concept of the patriarchy or natural androcratic order to follow chaos ruled, the strong dominated the weak, brutal warlords ruled. Female-led nations, incapable of participating in normal diplomacy, were locked in long-standing bloody wars. The women who escaped these regions to Pussiana were sold into service to prevent their removal to those barbarous lands, and the travel controls put on free women prevented them from travelling to areas of the world that might otherwise see them in grave danger.
Shafter saw their nods and continued, “I’m sure you’re all happy that the rule of law here is supreme, and are glad to submit yourselves to it.” Again, there was more nodding and verbal agreement. Something about this struck Evelyn as familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. “Let’s just go around the table quickly. Do you all respect male dominance, and supremacy of the androcracy?” Each girl muttered an I do in turn, “Are you willing to submit to Pussiana’s compulsory enslavement in the knowledge of what protections and guarantees it gives you?” another round of I do went around the table. Warning bells were ringing in Evelyn’s head now but were met with a sort of mental fog clouding her judgement. It was like trying to think through treacle. “Would you each, if called, swear to protect the Androcracy, and follow its orders?” A final I do. Evelyn’s head was swimming now, she could barely keep it upright, she saw the rest of the girls were having similar problems.
“Okay, Minxy, I think that will do.” He pulled out a small tablet, and logged into the registry, using facial recognition to pull up the four girls’ files all at once. He thumbed the edit mode, hit “Regrade”, and replaced the speculative A grades with a new S one for each girl. “You know, we were down on the quarter for recruitment, especially after the…gas incident…at HQ. It’s a good thing I ran into four willing and enthusiastic volunteers at a restaurant before I went back this evening. The four girls were now breathing heavily, sweating profusely, and Emily had her hand under her skirt playing with a rapidly engorging clit.
“What’s even more lucky is that I managed to get you all to swear Slavecop oaths before those grade 3 girlheaters laced through your food and drink kicked in and left you nothing more than brainless fuckdolls for the next 24 hours isn’t it?”
The girls looked at him as he talked, unfocussed, in a daze, some drooling. He snapped his fingers to summon the service cunt who arrived before he could get to a second snap. “Servonym?” he asked without looking.
“Sweetytits, Master”
“Well then Sweetytits. Minxy here is going to cuff these outstanding new recruits to the glorious slave management system of the androcracy, but I want you to get a couple of service cunts to help her load them into my Cunthound outside as they seem a little overwhelmed by their decision to volunteer.” He looked round at Sweetytits for a second, taking her all in, “Now while those cunts are at that I’m going to take you into the nearest rape room, and see if this restaurant is providing the A grade pussy to customers it claims to.”
“This cunt will be honoured to serve your noble cock, Master, but we have no rape rooms, guests are encouraged to rape us wherever they feel is most humiliating.” said the diminutive redhead, the tiny apron covering her front leaving little to his imagination. The words were barely out of her mouth before she was turned around bent over the table, and had her heels dangling in the air as he took her from behind. To her credit in between moans she managed to call over three other slaves to help Sassyminx handcuff the girls at the table, and get them moved to the air car outside.
As he plunged hilt deep into Sweetytits leaving her gasping for breath, he pulled up on her chin, arching her back in a way that served a dual purpose, first it arched her back in a most attractive way, and second, he thought, as he reached under her apron, it brought some fantastically hard nipples into easy squeezing range.
Sweetytits yelped, and tears formed in her eyes as he pinched, it would have been a well practised act done multiple times a day were it not for the fact that as a slavecop he knew women’s weakest points. He was pounding away at her g-spot at the same time her clit was being pushed down and across the tablecloth. He could feel she could barely control herself already. Each thrust rattled the table and he leant in close to whisper in her ear. “If you so much as think of cumming before Sassyminx gets back I will beat you down to a C-grade, are we clear?”
He enjoyed tormenting service slaves like this. There was no blowback on the Bureau of female affairs if a cunt like this got roughed up, and he could already feel her pussy tightening with nervousness. He released her nipple from his grasp, and instead landed a hearty slap across her cheek. She moaned, and looked at him with a mixture of lust and terror. He had to admit she was very well trained for just being a waitress.
Her knuckles were white now, her teeth gritted, short sharp breaths were keeping her need to cum under control. He allowed her to drop from her arched position so her breasts rested on the table, then leant his weight on the back of her head, keeping a rapid pace inside her.
“Shackles, cunt.” he said, and her hands snapped to the small of her back. It was almost an autonomic response in a well trained slave, and many would do it without thinking for hours or even days at a time. “Who trained you?”.
“This cunt was trained by Tidy Whores service academy, the premier training and torture school for service cunts, bar wenches, and other miscellaneous front of house pussy.” She said without thinking. An advert, drilled into her skull by trainers determined to keep her serving no matter what. He was forced to admit she was an excellent piece of pussy, obedient almost to a fault, and living off restaurant scraps gave her a pleasing slight chubbiness many slaves lacked.
He summoned another service cunt, and had her bring his dessert over to him. A metal coupe with three balls of mint ice cream. He placed the dish on Sweetytits back, and clearly used to this she flexed her shoulders slightly to lock the dish to the middle of her back even has he carried on railing her. “Oh you are just a delight, little cunt, I don’t suppose I can take you home with some leftovers?”
Gasping and nearly squealing as she held on to prevent cumming she answered “This cunt would be more than happy to accompany you Master. This cunt is available for rent or purchase once your meal is completed, delivery options are also available should you wish to purchase this cunt at a later date.” He smiled, and mentally noted her servonym in case he ever felt like getting food delivered at home.
Eventually Sassyminx returned and Sweetytits began to pant clearly at her limit. “All right, whore, you can cum now” he said, and it felt like all the tension in the world bled out of her in one leg-shaking scream of ecstasy that sent her pussy beyond tight to some new realm of strength that he thought must be her party trick. For a second she lay there panting, sweaty, quietly whispering thanks from her exhaustion. He slapped Sweetytits on the ass, putting what remained of his dessert aside and yanked her off the table onto her knees. She dangled limply from a handful of her hair he used to direct her where he wanted her to be. Without thinking she opened her mouth and locked her eyes on his, monitoring for the moment where she would be needed as his cumdump. She licked and sucked the end of his cock attentively to finish him off before he filled her mouth full of warm jizz. Sassyminx visibly frowned a little, “Oh relax, Minxy, you’re not missing out on a meal.” He looked down at the dishevelled slave on her knees in front of him, her mouth wide,a small string of cum dribbling down her chin. He picked up what remained of his dessert, took another spoonful, and poured the mostly liquid remains into Sweetytits mouth. “Sweetytits I want you to make sure that Minxy gets every drop of cum, you understand.” He watched as the slave nodded slowly, still making sure to display his load in her mouth, her eyes lighting up a little as she swirled it around a little and tasted the remains of the melted ice cream mixed in with it.
He released the handful of hair he was grabbing, and she made her way over to Sassyminx, waiting for the Agent-Slave to get on her knees and self shackle before grabbing her hair, yanking back hard, and angling her own head to dribble cum straight into the slavecop’s mouth before bending to allow Sassyminx to lick off what remained on her chin and cheeks. It was all Shafter could do not to laugh at the tiny act of disdain Sweetytits had given by yanking a little harder than she had to.
“Swallow.” he commanded after Sassyminx had taken a few seconds to savour the taste.
Sassyminx obediently gulped down the cum.
“Depriving service cunts of a meal, Minxy. You’ve no heart.” he said, a mocking tone in his voice.
“Yes, Master,” replied Sassyminx licking her lips to make sure every drop of his jizz was accounted for, “but I do have a full belly, and enough time to be facefucked on the way back to HQ.” she replied, a hint of a smile on her face as she stuck her tongue suggestively into her cheek..
For a moment Shafter was quizzical of Sassyminx’s attitude, then he looked at her. They’d worked together for two years now, he noticed the flush of her cheeks, her accelerated breathing, a noticeable dampness at the crotch of her leggings, “Let me guess, you fingered one of our volunteers on the way out, and then licked your fingers?”
“No Master, I did however check them for any bugs, trackers, or otherwise prohibited items. Very thoroughly.” she replied.
“Did you think about how many girlheaters were in their meal and drinks? Or how much stronger they are once they mix with a cunt’s bodily secretions?” he asked, and watched Sassyminx gulp. “You know what, I’m turning you over to the detention boys this evening. A good eight hours of gangbanging should sort you out.”
“Thank you, Master.”
“If I didn’t know any better I might start to think you’d planned that.” Sassyminx shifted uncomfortably on her knees, the aphrodisiacs starting to take their toll. “Sweetytits, put my meal and their meal on BFA expenses. You’ll be happy to note I updated your grade as an A, and thank your boss for the tip-off on that little party of four.”
“Thank you, Master. My owner said to tell you he’s always happy to co-operate with the BFA in such matters.”
With that Agent Shafter had Sassyminx do up his flies, and replace his shades before he bitchwalked her to the cunthound. It was going to be a long ride back if he had anything to do with it, and he could already hear the SEFR’s latest volunteers struggling inside the confinement compartments of the Cunthound. They occupied four of the eight tubes barely big enough to admit a person and have them still breathe that replaced the standard aircar slave storage.
“How are they loaded in there?” he asked.
“Arms up, chastity device on.”
“High grade girlheaters, and you’ve stopped them wanking their brains out. They’ll be ready to pop by the time we get back. Good girl. For that you can clean Sweetytits pussy juice off my cock all the way back.”
He grabbed a smiling Sassyminx by the hair on the nape of her neck, threw her into the aircar, and set the destination for HQ as she unzipped him. They drove off into the night as she moved forward and locked her lips around the tip of his cock.