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Review This Story || Author: Dan Butler

The Science of Slavery

Part 1

1.

"Good morning Nancy, I'm so glad to see you.  Do you know what day it is?  Of
course you don't!  Silly me.  Well, today is your one week anniversary of
sitting there!  Aren't you glad?  I have some presents for you.  Here's the
first, in this needle."  He plunged the needle into her left shoulder.  It hurt
and Nancy made muffled noises through her sewn lips.  Her father chuckled and
pushed in the plunger of the needle.  Contents empty, he withdrew it.  He was
dressed in a white lab coat, and toted a clipboard along with the needle.  Nancy
was pleased to see that he didn't go so far as to wear a stethoscope.

"That's just a serum to keep you awake, which brings me to my next present." 
Her father cut the threads holding her eyelids open.  They closed on their own
accord, and she could not open them again.  Now that her eyes were closed, she
yearned harder for sleep.  But thanks to her father's serum, she fell more awake
than she had all week.

"You won't be able to sleep for at least six hours.  Oh, and I am leaving he
threads in your eyelids incase I need to use the again. 

Next present.  I bet you're hungry.  I am going to cut your mouth open and give
you a bite to eat."  He snipped the raw hide, and her jaw dropped open like
Jacob Marley.  He produced a Big Mac, and put it in her mouth.  She could barely
move her jaw, so her father too her lower jaw in his hand, and chewed for her. 
One bite.  Her stomach growled, and she tried to bit at the burger in his hand,
but failed as she couldn't see it, and could barely move her head.  Her father
yanked the Mac away and tsk tsked.

"If I give you more, you're stomach will not like it.  Food after a fast can
upset the tummy," he patted her thin one, "and anyway, I don't want you to
recover to much strength.  I doubt you'd escape, but it would make my life
easier if you didn't resist.  Will you be a good girl Nancy?" Nancy, drained of
willpower, nodded.  "Good.  I don't want to have to hurt you."   He smiled at
her warmly, as if he had said 'I don't want you to catch cold.' 

"Daddy wh--" she began, but he shushed her and clamped his hand over her mouth.

"Two more presents, then you can talk.  I promise.  You can talk as much as you
like.  Ask me anything, but two more presents first."  He untied her completely
from the chair.  She flopped onto the floor like a rag doll.  She felt as if her
body was rubber.  Here muscles were so weak and her joints so stiff that she
could only lie there.

"How does it feel to be moving again?  Ready for one more present?  Whoops! 
Almost forgot!  I have another, very special present for you.  But first, this." 
He produced a metal anklet with a D ring and a small padlocked box welded onto
it.  He put it around her ankle, her right ankle, and welded it on.  Nancy
glimpsed it and noticed that it had her name on it, preceded and followed by a
heart.  Nancy didn't know what to think of that, except it made her feel like a
little kid.

"There.  That fancy piece of jewelry has a few surprises that we can look at
later.  Now, for that super special present: A new room!  Here in the basement,
a new room specially for you!  Lets go take a look, and you can tell me if you
like it."  He hefted her limp body from the floor and onto his shoulder and
walked through the basement.  The basement was built under the whole house,
which was big since her parents actually were successful scientists.  He stopped
before a small cell, windowless and empty save for a small uncovered drain in
the middle and lots of straw.  He lay her in it, and locked her in.  He went to
fetch a chair, and seated himself right outside the bars.

"So, you can lie there, or sit or stand or whatever, and talk.  Ask me stuff."



This was the first time that she was able to think clearly since her father came
down to the basement this morning.  Nancy tried to compose herself and get her
mind running again.  She had time, her father wasn't going anywhere.  It was as
if he wanted her to ask him questions.  Knowing the facts would only make her
feel more hopeless and helpless (since they were miserable facts).  Nancy knew
that this was her father's intent, but she also had a driving curiosity to know
what his scheme was, and how she could expect the future to look.  At this
point, escape was nowhere in her mind.

Her fist priority was to assess herself and her surroundings.  Ok, one step at a
time, she thought.  She was not tired-her father's drug saw to that-so she sat
up.  She inspected her body, feeling herself all over for injuries.  None.  She
quickly slipped a finger into her vagina.  Her hymen was still intact, she
hadn't missed anything.  Physically, she was ok.  She felt some muscle pain, but
knew that would subside when she used her limbs more.  She stood up cautiously. 
She had regained enough strength to stand and walk without danger of collapsing. 
She looked around the cell.  She recognized the room.  It was once a storage
room for outdoor toys and stuff, but that was gone, replaced by hay.  Even the
door was gone, with a barred prison door in its stead.  The drain cover had been
removed.  She guessed that it was now meant to serve as a toilet.  Ok, I really
will be living here, she thought.  Nancy remembered when she was eight or so a
time when she had shut herself in this room (when it was a closet) and
threatened to live in there unless her parents said she didn't have to eat her
peas.  If nancy was in a better mood or situation, she would have chuckled at
the irony. 

Now time for questions.

She turned o the door and saw that her mother had joined her father while Nancy
had been preoccupied.  Her mother stood next to her seated father, a hand on his
shoulder, smiling at Nancy.

"Ok, first of all, what are you going to do to me?"  Her voice was shaky, she
was out of practice and frightened.  She wished she could sound confident, but
she did not feel confident at all.

Her parents grinned wider, and exchanged the grins with each other.

"Great question.  I can see why your teachers like you so much.  We need a
slave.  Not a slave in the historic sense.  No, we don't need help with labor,
well, that's not true."  Nancy's parents laughed at what must have been a joke,
but she didn't get.  None of this was the least bit funny to her.  "We need a
young girl who will produce enough milk, children, and eggs to sell
commercially.  You'd be surprised that the market for human milk, baby girls,
and useable human eggs.  You will be the producer of all three, and your mother
and I will get rich.  That is your purpose from now on.  Our intentions are that
simple: greed.  Next question?" 

Nancy was horrified.  Her own body was to be exploited by her parents!  Whatever
she was expecting, it was not this.  She was thinking more along the lines of a
slave for menial labor, the most radical of her ideas being a sex toy for her
father and maybe mother (she had suspected her mother of being bisexual).  It
took her a few minutes, but she finally asked her next question.

"How long am I to be used in this way?"  As soon as she said it, she knew she
probably wasn't going to like the answer.

"Until you run out of eggs, and your breasts stop producing quality milk" Nancy
didn't pay attention in sex-ed class, and didn't know what type of time period
this meant.  She had assumed that if she needed to know anything, her mother
would tell her.

"And after that?"  Nancy tried to ebb some confidence into her voice, but it
came out as a squeak.



"After that, you will be of no use to anybody.  I'll probably sell you to a
butcher, and make a few last bucks."  Nancy peed herself and broke out sweating,
fear gripping her heart.  Slaughtered?  They would kill her?  Her?  Their own
daughter?  They must be joking, just trying to frighten her more.

"You can't be serious."  Nancy stammered.  Her parents certainly looked serious. 
Nancy's mother fielded her remark.

"Oh no, we are very serious.  We can't risk you telling anybody what has
happened, can we.  When your purposes have been fulfilled, you will be
butchered."

"And how long will that take?"  Nancy's voice portrayed every ounce of fear
inside her.  An even slyer smile spread across her father's face.

"I am working on a few medicines.  One will shorten your gestation period-the
amount of time it takes you to grow a baby-to about two months, thanks to
hormones and animal DNA.  Another medicine will make you more fertile, producing
two or three babies at a time by making you ovulate two or three eggs at a time. 
Another medicine will make your breasts grow to produce more milk.  I may even
create one which will cause you two grow two more breasts, one below each of the
ones you have now.  The final medicine will cause your body to slow the aging
process as long as you are on the medicine.  This will keep your body that of an
eighteen year old until it has served it's purpose.  In other words, once you
reach eighteen, eighteen you will stay until killed.  I'm guessing, you will
last us into your late twenties or early thirties, then, butcher time."

There wasn't much left to ask.  Nancy slumped to the floor, shocked, frightened,
trying to slow her racing mind.  She didn't care if she was sitting in her own
urine.  Her eyes darted around, as if frantically searching for a previously
overlooked means of escape.  Then a question popped into her head, but her
mother was one step ahead of her.

"Yes, you will continue school, until the first time you are impregnated. 
Which, I may add, will be by artificial insemination.  The sperm will be from
the sperm bank, a different donor each time for variety.  Your father will
modify it and your eggs to produce female only offspring.  The inseminating will
be a rough process-it's not a gentle machine."

Her parents left at this point before she could speak again.  They waved goodbye
to her, still smiling.

Nancy flopped into her straw and began to sob.  Her young body heaved as she
tried to bury herself in the straw for warmth.  Nancy payed no attention to the
few sharp pieces poking her breasts as they squashed beneath her.  They were B
cups-small B cups at that-and Nancy couldn't imagine her father just making them
grow.  Harder to imagine was how much of a freak she would be with four breasts. 
But then the remembered that nobody except her evil parents would see her and
her four breasts.  This was not a comforting thought.  She cried and cried into
the straw.  Thoughts of no escape, pain, a short life, torture, humiliation, all
swirled around her mind.  Then, for the first time in a week, she slept.



Review This Story || Author: Dan Butler
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