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Chapter 14. The Naked Accountant
Since my return to Masterson Automotive as a slave, the modesty I had known earlier as a free employee was no longer permitted to me. My boss, Tom Jenkins, made sure of that. After he raped me in his office he ordered me back naked to the fishbowl for another meeting. I wiped his semen off my thighs and my stomach as best I could with the box of tissues he handed me. I was not given time to shower. Then I took my seat at the conference table, with the other enslaved professionals, tears running down my face from the recent violation of my person.
Tom Jenkins and his two assistants also took seats at the conference table.
“I know you all met my assistant Sally Rigers earlier. My other assistant, Dick Murris, has also joined us at this time.
I heard my boss’s voice go on about the Apprenticeship Project my team was to tackle. It was hard to concentrate on what he was saying because all I could think about was how much I hated this man who had deliberately stripped me of my freedom, my dignity and even penetrated my unwilling body with his penis.
I became conscious of Harold’s voice as he finished asking a long question.
“ … and so, in furtherance of that objective, our job is to figure out how to replace these circuit board assembly girls, who are free to leave at any time, with boy and girl apprentices who are bound for a term of years?”
Because the conference table was of clear glass I could easily see the lower bodies of my colleagues. Naturally I had been looking at Harold since he had just spoken. His body was easy on my eyes, especially his biceps, his six-pack abdomen, his large low hanging balls and his thick uncircumcised penis. I thought I saw his penis stiffen just slightly as he asked his question of Jenkins. Clearly he had no more dignity at this table than I did, but was doing his best to keep up a brave front under these strange circumstances.
“That is right, Harold”, Jenkins replied. “We need to hold down employee turnover. When we do so we will be able to invest more in the training of the apprentice children than we were able to invest in training these free children who usually don’t last more than a year.”
“You stated earlier”, Harold continued, “that children are always apprenticed to particular masters and not to a corporation. Who will be these masters?”
“They will be independent contractors and we will need to enter into arrangements with perhaps a half dozen of them – so that all the skills we are going to need will be represented.” They will not only train the youth but take all the financial risks of doing so, including providing board and room for the kids and seeing to their recreational and medical needs. Upon completion of the apprenticeship they award a certificate of achievement to each teenager. This will give each youth, now on the verge of adulthood, a marketable skill so that he or she may hire themselves out as journeymen.”
“And my job” Jennifer interjected, “is to motivate parents to entrust their children to our masters, and then to motivate the children to obey and work hard for these masters?”
“Quite right, Jennifer”, Jenkins replied, “and when you report for work tomorrow I will expect to see that pubic hair trimmed back in accordance with company standards.”
“Yes sir.”
Since Jennifer had spoken I glanced in her direction and became very conscious of her dancer’s body, first her upper thin fragile form and then her slender but not so fragile lower body through the glass conference table. Her legs were muscular and slender, her buttocks muscular and her pubic hair curly and dense enough to obscure her slit. Evidently that is where Jenkins had been looking when he had replied to Jennifer.
“I know it has been a long day for all of you and that you are probably getting hungry as well. We have a Residential and Leisure Time Program for all our slaves here at Masterson Automotive. So I have asked Dick to take three of you to the residential quarters on the seventh floor and introduce you to the person who will be in charge of you during your leisure and sleep hours. You, Stephanie, on the other hand, will be escorted to Jeff Duncan’s office. He has asked to see you prior to your going up to residence floor. We will reconvene tomorrow at 9am and I will lay out your work for the day.”
With that we all went our separate ways. Sally was still carrying that whip at her belt. Though it was mostly symbolic it allowed no one to forget her authority. After securely handcuffing my hands behind my back, she very firmly grasped one of my arms and marched me down the artwork-lined corridor to Duncan’s office. He was on the phone so we both stood waiting. Soon he finished his call but still kept us standing.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite human resource! ” he greeted me!
He got up from his desk and walked to where I was standing and casually began fondling my breasts and tweaking my nipples. Then that hand moved up and began to lightly trace the lines of my collarbones. He took no particular notice of the fact there were tears running down my cheeks.
“I have asked to see you, Glenn, because I understand you may have experienced some sexual penetration by your manager today that probably was not consensual.”
“You are damn right it wasn’t consensual. I was raped!” I shouted. I could feel the muscles in my chest and upper back tightening up and the adrenalin surging through me.
“Please, Miss Glenn, we don’t use that word here when it is only a case of a supervisor enjoying his enslaved subordinate. The word ‘rape’ is appropriate only when we are talking about a free woman who has the right to withhold her consent to sex. That is not the case where you are concerned. To put it plainly, you can be fucked at any time by Tim Jenkins or by any other person in whose charge he may temporarily place you, or by top executives of this company.”
I started to scream out my defiance to this announcement when I suddenly felt Sally’s hand clamped over my mouth.
“Glenn, your freedom of speech can be indefinitely suspended at any time we find it convenient to do so. We have only to invoke one of the post-hypnotic commands. Nod your head if you understand this.”
Reluctantly I nodded. Sally then removed her hand from my mouth at a gesture from Duncan.
“The important thing, Glenn” he continued, “is that you not allow any feelings of humiliation and/or anger you may be experiencing toward Jenkins to get in the way of your doing your job for us on this project. Jenkins is still your manager, regardless of any feelings you may have about what happened today. You are officially off duty when you leave my office and will be taken to the residential quarters. There will be a good meal for you there and time to relax and unwind from your day. You may take a shower, watch television or whatever until lights out. Try to get a good night’s rest and be ready to go back to work with Jenkins in the morning bright eyed and bushy tailed. Do I make myself understood?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good, then you are dismissed Glenn.”
Sally escorted me from Duncan’s office and, as soon as we reached the elevator, she released me from the handcuffs. Soon we stepped out of the elevator onto the 7th floor. I sensed right away that the atmosphere was more relaxed here than on the office floors, the lighting softer, there was soothing background music and the air was considerably cooler. I became conscious once more of my nakedness.
“I will introduce you to Helen Weisman, who is in charge here, and she will help you get settled in. “
She led me down another hall to a door marked “Residential Manager” and knocked. Soon a woman perhaps in her mid fifties opened the door and motioned me in, dismissing Sally. I was starting to shiver now in my nakedness.
“This floor was not designed for nudity, Stephanie. The slaves are allowed, even encouraged to wear clothing of their own choice here. So temperatures are kept lower and there are not body warming infrared lights. I have some clothes here that are just your size that you may wear for right now. Put these on please.”
She handed me a basket containing a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a sweater, socks, panties, a bra and some casual shoes. As I stepped into the panties and fastened the bra it felt wonderful to be modest again, and as I put on all the other items I began to feel warm and comfortable. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be clothed. And everything fitted me like a glove. Evidently they had these clothes custom made from measurements sent over from Richmond Slendabond.
“I will show you your sleeping quarters”, she said as she led me down another hall until we reached a large open area,
Here there were three long rows of sleeping platforms (or pods) with clear plastic covers and cameras everywhere. I immediately understood. It was exactly like the sleeping room at the slave training facility. Everything was designed to supervise sleeping slaves so that there could be no masturbation during the night. She saw from the expression on my face that I understood.
“Now I will take you to your friends in the lounge and you may relax with them until we call you to dinner.”
We entered a spacious carpeted lounge with comfortable furniture, a large screen TV and various books and magazines. On a side bar was a jug of wine and some glasses. My teammates all were clothed in form revealing but comfortable attire and all were drinking. I poured myself a glass. I still keenly felt the anger and humiliation of the day’s events. Perhaps the wine would help me to unwind. Everyone pretended to be watching a game show on the TV, though I could tell no one really cared about that. Their thoughts were elsewhere. Yet no one wanted to start a real conversation either out of humiliation or out of depression.
After we had been relaxing for a while I was surprised to see Sally come into the lounge. I remember wondering what caused her to return so soon after she had delivered me here.
“Glenn, stand please!” she said. I stood.
“I have come back” Sally continued, “to give you a special instruction from Tom Jenkins. He has asked me to speak to you about your little experience with him today. He has an instruction for you regarding that. It is ‘Forget It Now!’ “
The reason I remember that instruction is because Jennifer was there and told me about the instruction after Sally left. The only problem was that I could not remember at that time what it was that I was supposed to forget. And Jennifer could not help me with that.
Soon we were called to dinner and were served a nourishing but low carb meal of salad, vegetables and fish while listening to relaxing music. No doubt all this was part of the “kinder and gentler slavery” law. We had more relaxation time after dinner. We all watched a TV movie to keep our minds off the enormity of our situation. We were all tired from our long and stressful day, so bedtime couldn’t come soon enough. They divested us of all our clothing, then tucked us all into our comfort controlled observation pods, explaining that the rule against masturbation was to insure that we would all be sexually excitable during the day in case anyone wanted to use us in that way. Sleep came quickly.
In the morning we were all awakened at 6 am and extracted naked from our pods and herded, just as we were, to the elevators. We emerged on the floor where we worked and found there were few workers about as yet. They marched us down a hall into a very large exercise room separated from that same hall by floor to ceiling glass. There we were made to do our morning physical fitness on all the various muscle-training machines. Some of us had to do chin-ups on suspended bars right along the glass wall. Early bird workers were starting to arrive and would gather in the hall outside, as they sipped their morning coffee, to gawk at our bodies as we worked out. Then it was the glass shower stalls, also along the glass wall. Some of the same workers moved down to watch us as we showered. After this all of us female slaves were lined up and made to bend over and touch our toes. After a time we each felt a prick in our buttocks and were later informed that this was our weekly shot to prevent pregnancy.
Finally we were marched back to the elevators and to our residence floor where we were served a high protein but low carb breakfast and coffee. Hairdressing and makeup services were then provided to Jennifer and myself, including pubic haircuts. The two of us, now with elaborately coiffed hair, then donned our high heels and jewelry. Meanwhile Harold and Edgar were shaved and received haircuts, then donned their mid-calf leather boots and bow ties. Except for these few decorative items and footwear, we were all quite naked and ready to go to work.
Sally came down to collect us and brought us to our work floor and to our respective cubicles in the glass fishbowl. It was 9 am and time to start work. We were directed to put our headsets on, slip into the stirrups that electronically locked our ankles and then separated our legs. Our computer screens came alive and displayed directions for our morning work. Quite a few of the free workers and some managers sauntered by the glass wall of the fishbowl sipping their morning coffees. Many of them took delight in gawking at our nakedness and the bodily attributes between our legs that, thanks to the design of our workstations, they could so readily observe. I could see that Jennifer was as unnerved by all this attention as I was, and that it embarrassed our two male coworkers as well.
Just then our computer screens came alive and advised us all that we might, from time to time, feel a tickling sensation in our genitals. This would be caused whenever someone passing by our cubicles decided to push one of the ‘geni-stim’ buttons so conveniently placed for their amusement. When we felt such stimulation we were required to acknowledge it by smiling gratefully at the person who had pushed the button. Failure to smile when so stimulated would be a punishable offence.
A final banner scrolled across our screens advising us that if we were highly compliant to all orders from our superiors, that we might then, after months of such compliance, earn the privilege of keeping our legs closed and the privilege of not having our privates stimulated by any of the passersby.
After that there was the image of Tom Jenkins addressing us.
“Good morning slaves! I trust you all slept well in your pods. Today we are going to learn more about the apprenticeship program, visit an “apprentice support center” (A.S.C.), and meet some of the apprentice masters who will be arranging board and room for their apprentices at the center but will be training them in our facilities. At the center we may actually watch these masters and mistresses select young teens for the program. Right now I want all of you to assemble around the glass conference table for a briefing on what is just ahead for all of you.”
As we took our places around the conference table I had a vague feeling of dislike for my boss, but I could not explain the feeling. I felt that I should dislike him for something he had done but could not remember quite what it was. I knew the company had tampered with my mind and probably did not want me to remember what Jenkins had done to me.
“The New York State legislature became convinced”, Jenkins began, “that too much idleness was having a corrosive effect on teenagers”, Tom continued. “It was thought that teens had way too much time on their hands and that this often led to juvenile delinquency, the use of dangerous recreational drugs and young people entering the labor market with poor work habits or no work habits at all.”
“There was a time”, Tom continued, “when most teenagers in the United States were either doing chores on the family farm, helping their families run small businesses, or were learning a trade after being bound as an apprentice to a master in that trade. It was not uncommon for a young boy to be indentured by his parents to a master printer, bookbinder, candle maker, blacksmith or any of dozens of other trades. The boy would be under contract to the master for a term of years at a very low wage, or perhaps for board and room only. In return the master would teach the boy the trade so that when the apprenticeship was up the boy, now a man, would be qualified as a journeyman in that trade and would have a marketable skill. It was a good system. Many a boy got an education his parents could not have afforded to buy for him and learned to earn his livelihood in this way and eventually became a master in his own right.”
Tom continued with an explanation of how the teen apprentices were motivated to practically worship their Apprentice Masters and Mistresses. Children of citizens typically were destined, by age 13, for a private high school and a school sponsored mentoring program. Most children of non-citizens typically were destined for teen labor camps, but a lucky few of them would be hand picked by apprentice masters for individual mentoring.
Not surprisingly, children of non-citizens looked forward to graduating 8th grade with both eagerness and some trepidation. Would a master or mistress choose them? Or would they be consigned to a labor camp? Since standards for becoming a licensed master were quite high, there were never enough of them for all the kids desiring to apprentice. Being selected offered so many advantages – status, bragging rights, a social life mixing with teens of the opposite sex, recreational opportunities, furthering academic education, and most of all a very special relationship with an adult mentor who would impart both career skills and a sexual education.
All the financial risks of taking on apprentices were born by the master or mistress, who had to pay the board and room for three years, pay for the teen’s schooling, any medical expenses, and pay money into a trust fund that would be available to help the student ultimately setup in a trade on his or her own. There were service businesses called “support centers” that would board a master’s apprentices for a fixed fee per child, including dormitory bunk space, meals and use of the gymnasium and other physical fitness facilities.
Capitallia had chosen to cultivate sexual innocence in its children so that these young teens would reach this age with little or no knowledge of sex or of adult relationships.
One of the consequences of all this was those pre-teens were eager to be indoctrinated into the mysteries and pleasures of adult relationships. Such revelations would come from respected teachers that many of them would develop a crush on during their most impressionable years.
The chosen students knew, of course, that, at first, they would only be learning about sex from their teachers and would not be experiencing actual sex as adults experienced it until they turned 16, and then only if they chose to enter such a relationship with their mentor or apprentice master. We had been told earlier that the law barred any sexual contact between mentors and their apprentices. It turned out that while this was true there were some interesting exceptions.
Apprentice masters and mistresses were, of course, interested in the degree of psychosexual development of the young teens as that represented best evidence as to how desirable they would be as potential partners upon coming of age. The laws of Capitallia and New York State allowed for young teens to be intimately examined if medical professionals who were trained and licensed did this. It did not take long before apprentice masters and mistresses discovered that they could use this law to their advantage. Mentors might choose to be present during these ‘intimate examinations’ and even to take active part in them – so long as a medical professional was present and nominally supervising the proceedings.
As I listened to all this I thought “Sure! What hypocrisy! Like there is going to be any way all of these restraints on teachers can actually be enforced in practice! Give me a break!” But as the presentation went on I learned that all teacher-apprentice interactions and medical exams were videotaped for later review and that there were independent auditing agencies certified by state and local governments that made surprise visits from time to time and reviewed the tapes of these interactions and interviewed the apprentices to see if anything of an unauthorized nature had been taking place with any of the mentors.
The way apprentices were recruited was that every spring the area middle schools would have a series of meetings to educate the eighth grade students about apprenticeship opportunities. Apprentice masters and mistresses were invited to come to these meetings and make presentations and take questions from students. In addition each of the masters maintained a web site where more information about that particular master could be found.
In due course each master and mistress would receive hundreds of applications from these eighth grade youngsters accompanied by photographs and parental permission slips. The applications were often accompanied by well-written letters detailing why that teen wanted to train with that particular master. Sometimes these letters contained graphic sexual fantasies about the future relationship after the teen would come of age. The masters would narrow their choices down to the teens they were most interested in and send out invitations to those teens to report to whatever apprentice support center (A.S.C.) the master had available for this purpose. There the teens would be interviewed individually, observed in physical fitness activities, and medically examined.
In furtherance of our project Tom Jenkins decided that our team of enslaved professionals would visit the “Fastlane Apprentice Support Center” to observe the process whereby apprentices were being recruited. We were to accompany Sally Rigers, who would be chief observer from Masterson Automotive, and observe with her the recruiting processes of a number of mentors. Those masters having contracts to train youngsters at Masterson Automotive would be Beth Norris and George Barkston. Beth specialized in training apprentices for factory assembly jobs while George specialized in training young office workers.
Jenkins concluded his presentation. As it was only 10:30 he indicated we should all return to our cubicles and make productive use of the time before lunch. After lunch we were directed to meet back at the conference room at 2 pm for the bus to the apprentice facility.
I had only been settled at my workstation a short while when I saw a party of what appeared to be V.I.P. guests being escorted through our department by a man I guessed was a high up executive of my company. One of the guests was a rather handsome Japanese businessman who seemed to take an inordinate interest in me. He had stopped in front of my cubicle and was openly ogling my naked body. It wasn’t hard to see where his eyes were focused. Soon the executive leading this group of guests came back to see what he was looking at. Some brief whispered conversation ensued. The next thing was Sally Rigers coming into my cubicle.
“The gentleman who has been staring at you”, Sally stated in a rather matter of fact tone, ”is a very important client of this firm. He has expressed a desire to fuck you. He hasn’t had many Caucasian women, so he finds you rather exotic. We try never to disappoint our best clients!”
“But what about me?” I replied. “Don’t I have anything to say about this?”
“What part of slavery don’t you understand?” she said, looking at me as though I might be some kind of retard.
So Sally escorted the Japanese businessman and myself to a luxurious private V.I.P. suite down the hall and left us with a warning look to me.
He did not need me to undress, as I was already naked. There was no conversation. He whispered some word, vaguely familiar to me, after which I found myself completely docile. He began by fondling me from head to toe. Then he unzipped and whipped out his rather impressive penis and indicated I should drop to my knees in front of him. I wanted very much not to perform this act, but found that somehow my muscles or my will had been tampered with by whatever word he had whispered. My muscles, with a will of their own, caused me to drop to my knees and apply my mouth to his soft penis until it wasn’t soft anymore. He was very clean. I hated what I was being made to do but could not stop myself. Soon I felt the first spurt of his ejaculation on my face but he stopped himself just long enough to flip me on my back and enter between my legs. The muscles of my legs, again with a will of their own, wrapped tightly around his legs and drew him in. The muscles of my vagina likewise tightened to squeeze his member inside me. We humped. Soon he was ejaculating, and then pulling out. He seemed satisfied. He bade me stand and gave me a playful slap of dismissal on my buttocks. I stopped in the lady’s room to wipe his semen off my face.
As I entered the cafeteria a young secretary rushed up to me and informed me that I must report to the office of Paul Gregory, the company psychologist prior to taking my lunch. She evidently knew who I was since we had met the day I first interviewed for a job with this company. Soon I found myself standing in front of Mr. Gregory in his private office and being offered a comfortable seat and a cup of coffee. It seemed incongruous to be in such a setting while naked.
“Please excuse me for delaying your lunch, Miss Glenn, but I felt it was important that I get an idea how you are getting on with our program. Some people adapt to slavery more readily than others”, he continued. “Some find it very stressful. We try to make humane adjustments when we can. How has it been for you so far?”
“Do you mean apart from the rapes?” I said.
“Please, Miss Glenn, do not act the drama queen. As a slave you must expect to have non consensual sex experiences from time to time – particularly with your superiors and with important customers of the firm.” As he said this he was looking rather intently at a spot just above my forehead. He drew out a tissue and moved toward me, wiping away a bit of semen that I had missed and was stuck in my hair. He did this with surprising gentleness.
“But sir, I shouldn’t even BE a slave!” I suddenly cried out and began to sob.
“Please explain, Miss Glenn,” he said in a not unkind voice.
So I told him about how I had unfairly lost my job with the company when I filed a sexual harassment charge against Tom Jenkins, and how I was then blacklisted and unable to get any other job, hence unable to pay my bills. I also told him that some of the debts charged against me had been created out of whole cloth just to get me to the $10,000 debt level where I could be enslaved.
“These are very serious charges you are making, young lady. I am more than willing to investigate your claims. If all you say is true then I will see what I can do to help you out of your predicament. For now let us keep this conversation just between the two of us, OK?”
With that he dismissed me and I went back to the cafeteria to rejoin my teammates and have lunch before the bus would leave.
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
Note: If you are enjoying this story author would appreciate feedback to dondaverse (at) yahoo (dot) com.
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