South Side – White Slave Act of 2000

Stocking The Herd.

Spellbook Slaves, very early morning shift.

The door chime goes off.

“Hello? Is anyone here?”

Damn it. I was just about to face fuck a slave.

“I’ll be out in a flash” I call out to the customer. “And I’ll do you later” I tell the slave.

“Sorry about that, had an issue with a slave that needed attention. How may I help you this fine morning?”

“My name is Nina Mason, and these are my daughters Ceili and Laura. I need to sell them off today. I’ve had it with them.”

“Mom, you don’t need to do this, really there are better ways, we can go to counseling as a family…”, Ceili says.

“Mother, please think about what you are doing, making us slaves isn’t something that you should do just because you are mad at us.”, Laura adds.

“Be quiet, you two, the grown-ups are talking. And I’ve had just about a much from you as I’m going to take. This last month has been more than I’m willing to take from you two”.

Ceili is a big breasted brunette that I note has wet spots over her nipples. Laura is an even bigger breasted brunette. Big enough that I have a good idea that if Issac sees her, she will be one of his play-toys, even if her tits are real, not implants. He and Sheila have expanded their tastes in snuff slaves.

“Ah, Ms. Mason, I’m not sure if I can take Ceili, she looks to be lactating…”

“Why would that matter? I’m her mother and I want to sell her, should be straightforward enough. Or is there something I don’t know about the slave laws?”

“Mom, please I’m begging you, he even says he can’t take me” says Ceili.

“I didn’t say that, just you’re well, are leaking milk, which normally is a red flag on conversions because it normally means you are either pregnant or the mother of an infant child. Let me check what the state database says about you…”

“Mother, please don’t do this, I’ll pay for the counseling, just don’t do this”, Laura quietly pleads.

I dive into the state slaving board’s website, and go to the status search. Both are listed as a free woman, and don’t have a disqualifying flag set for either pregnant or mother of a minor child. Odd. While I can’t do anything about the possibility of a child that the state doesn’t have registered, which is highly unlikely in this day and age, I can check for pregnancy.

“OK, the state slave board says you are both convertible, but they might not know if you are pregnant, so can I have you ladies fill these cups with pee? I need it to check your status. Please use that restroom and go in one at a time.”

Ceili goes in first. A few moments later, she returns. With the pee sample. I watched her on the CCTV set up in the restroom, and yes, it was her pee, not a smuggled in sample of someone else. Of freaking course, we have a CCTV camera in the ladies room, need to make sure that pee samples are from the female that says they are. I would just have them pee in the front of the desk, but they are, at that point, free women, normally, and there are complaints about privacy. Like that matters. So we have a tiny hidden camera over the toilet and every one is happy. The women being tested think they have privacy, and we have a record of them giving a sample for evidence reasons.

I label the samples and pull out two “Slave-Or-Not” kits and dip them in the pee. All the tests come back as green, meaning they aren’t on drugs, which is only relevant for a volunteer, and neither of them is pregnant.

“OK, everything looks OK from here, but I can’t but help to notice that Ceili is, well, leaking. Is she really lactating?”

“Yes, she is. The doctor changed her birth control pills and she started up. And the little whinny bitch wants to buy all new bras because she’s gotten a bit bigger. Like I would spend money on her. I have other things to spend money on”.

The explains it.

“Well, as it happens, we have a couple of standing orders for slaves that are lactating, which are quite a bit higher than she would normally bring. The downside, if you take it one of them, is she will have a fairly short life as a Hucow.”

“Hucow? I don’t know what that means”?

“Human Cow, she will be hooked up to a milk machine twice or three times a day and milked. Once her production drops below a given level, they will sell her to a human butcher, who will, well, depending on what she looks like then, either live spit her or just snuff her and cut her up for parts. The second standing order offers less money, however, with that one she will be used as a wet nurse. Once a slave stops producing with them, they generally sell her to the open market, which tends to have a longer life span attached to it.”

“Talk to me about this dairy, what sort of conditions would she be kept in?”

I bring up the dairy’s website. “Much like this.” as I show her one of their images of the hucow herd.

“So literally like a cow.”

“More or less, not sure what they do when they aren’t being milked, but I suspect it’s being kept in a small cage or stall”

“Why is that 3rd cow wearing fishnets?”

I’m somewhat amused by the fact that Ms. Mason has already changed her view of hucows from “female humans” to “cattle”. This does not bode well for Ceili.

“Oh, they get fucked as part of the processing, I suspect that her, ah, fucker, wanted them on her”.

“So in addition to being treated like the animal she is, she gets rapped? Often, like daily?”

“Well, they are slaves, so it’s not raped in a legal context, but yeah, basically. I also understand that part of the herd is used as part of a fetish whorehouse, for those guys that like the idea of fucking a lactating women. Or like the idea of fucking a soon-to-be snuffed woman, or for that matter, a cow.”

“So she would be a whore and a cow. I like that. Talk to me about price. Did you say there was another option”?

“Well, if I sell her to the dairy, you would get about six grand and four and half grand if I sell her to the wet nurse company. Either of those is quite a bit more than she would normally bring, assuming she doesn’t have any other skills that are in demand right now.”

“Mom, I’ve got skills, have then check my school records plus I’ve got some medical training… Please don’t do this to me.” Ceili is near tears pleading with her mother.

“Medical training, like being an EMT or LPN?” I ask.

“EMT” says Ceili.

“EMT Sir, I told you to have respect to men.” snaps Ms Mason.

“Yes, mother, EMT Training Sir”.

I check the skill database. EMT training adds about a grand to her price.

“Well, that brings would bring her non hucow price up to about a two grand and half.”

“If I sell her to the dairy, how long would she live?”

“Depends on how long she stays wet. I understand they put them on a menu that includes some special hormones to keep the hucows producing, but off the top of my head I would put it at three years, tops”.

“So, if I sell her to the dairy, she dies in about 3 years, more or less, but if I sell her on the open market? How long would she live then”?

“Well, a slave is snuffed every 19 seconds, but that is countrywide. Being snuffed is the single largest cause of slave deaths, but still most don’t get snuffed right away.”

“Mom, please, no, don’t do this” Ceili begs.

Ms. Mason looks at Ceili. “Sell her to the dairy. I hope you dry up while you still have a good enough figure to be spit roasted. What about Laura?”

“I can offer you a grand and a half for her, assuming she doesn’t have any skills I need right now. I might warn you that I have a regular customer who likes to take large breasted women and torture them to death.”

“Oh, really? Can you let him know you have one available”?

“Our contract with him and his wife is that we notify him if any slaves come it that meet their criteria, and Laura does.”

“Thank you for that. So $7,500 for the pair, that’s more than I expected.”

“Can I have their ID, please? I need to scan them into the system so I can convert them to slave status.”

Ms. Mason produce their ID and hand them over.

“Mom, you don’t have to do this…” says Ceili

“Mother, please, don’t do this” says Laura

“Be quiet you two, I’m speaking to this man.”

“But you heard him, they are going to kill me as soon as I dry up”.

“Whatever, that can’t be soon enough.”

Laura just looked glum. “You want them to sell me to a man that tortures women to death? Why Mother, for the love of God, why?”

“You both should have listened last month when I said I was getting tired of your shit. I’ve had quite enough from you.”

After scanning the ID, and entering the data from the test kits, “OK this is your last chance, you can back out now if you want”, I say with my finger over the enter key.

“I want to do this. Can I push the button?”.

I hand her over the keyboard, where she pushes the enter key and a few seconds later her daughters’ status changes from “Free” to “Slave”.

“Do you want cash, a check or a preloaded debit card for them?”

“A card will be fine.”

I dink around with the machine and hand her a debit card with the $7,500 on it. “You will need to call the number on the back to activate the card, but thereafter, it’s as good as cash in most places.”

Adding to the herd

Baum’s Eastlake Dairy

So you want to become a human cow? Did I understand you correctly over the phone?

No, I hope to be milked like a cow and your dairy is the only one that does that sort of thing in the greater Eastlake metro area, or at least was the only one willing to talk to me directly about it.

May I ask why?

Yes, it is simple, I changed my birth control pills and I started to lactate. My then boyfriend was, at first, excited about it and sucked me dry several times a day. Then he decided that he really wasn’t that into it and left me. I use a breast pump to drain them every evening, but it’s getting to be a problem and I don’t really want the milk to go to waste. I’ve contacted several of the charities in town to find out if I can donate it, but they really aren’t in that business. One of them suggested I try the human milk dairies in town, and you were the only ones who would talk to me, as I said.

Well, you understand that all the other hucows are slaves, so having a free woman act as a hucow is a bit out of our wheelhouse.

Please, I really need you to do this, but I would rather not be a slave.

Well, we could always try something. The first thing we need to do is see if your milk is up to our quality standards. Let’s go to one of the milking rooms for a test pump.

Thank you.

OK, please expose your breasts so we can hook you up to the milking machine. Normally, you would be nude and on your hands and knees, plus would be tied down in the milking stall, but I think we can make this work without doing all that. Of course, if we do take you on as a milker you will need to get used to being treated like, well, a cow. While we can use the freestanding machine to test you, it isn’t connected to the production system, and we couldn’t use it daily.

I understand.

OK, let’s hook you up. Hold these over your nipples until the suction takes effect. You might want to keep holding them after that. I’ve got to talk to my staff and my lawyer to find out how we can fit you it.

20 minutes elapses.

Well, the good news is your milk passes our quality check, the bad news is that unless you sign a contract with us, we can’t take you. And I’ll be upfront, the contact they want you to sign will be one that converts you to being a real hucow slave if you don’t meet all the requirements.

Oh, God, I thought I was ready for this because I used a breast pump before. I had no idea what a milker would feel like. I’ll sign your contract, hell I’ll let you convert me to full hucow status, just do that to me as often as you can.

OK, let me call up my Spellbook Slaves to convert you, and we will add you to our herd.

A Change of Job – Classic

Hill’s Fine Meat’s Hiring Hall

This is a “Classic” WSA2000 Story, originally posted Mar. 2006, taken from Usenet Google Archive.

Author’s note: This story is set in late 2001, after the Alternate Meat Source act was passed, but before it was in common use.

I look over the help wanted ads in the Eastlake World. Find this

“Inspector and driver wanted. Must have an open mind. Call Hill’s at 555-1212”

Well, that looks promising. Given my current job is driving me crazy, might as well go by and see what this is all about. I give them a call and set up an interview.

On the day of the interview, I showed up at the office they directed me to. It is a hiring agency, not their location. A nice-looking blond takes my information and directs me to wait in interview room number one. After 5 minutes or so, a man wearing a nice casual suit comes in. He reviews my resume and application form, making a few marks here and there on the papers. After a minute or so of this, he looks up, “So, Josh, what did you think of the girl that you first met when you came in here? Would you like to cum in her mouth?”

What the hell? Well, I’ve got a job, it’s not like that if I don’t get this job it’s the end of the world, might as well see where this is going. “Sure, I mean, I’m a man. Even the gay guys like blow jobs.”

He nods and makes a mark on my application, then stands up and walks to the door, “Send her in…” he calls out. A few seconds later, the blond girl from the outer office walks in. The man in the suite says points at me and says to her ‘Blow him‘. She nods and drops to her knees in front of me. She opens my fly and starts to lick and suck on my dick.

While she is doing that, Mr. Suit starts asking me questions.

“Do you hunt or fish?”

I tell him I do. He hands me a stack of papers, and tells me to rate each woman shown on them from 1 to 10. While I was doing this, then blond was going to town on my dick. About halfway through the rating, I felt my balls tighten up, and I knew I was about to blast. She could tell as well and went all the way down on me and took it directly into her throat. Mr. Suit asked me, “Did you just cum in her mouth?” When I told him that I did, that’s when he dropped the bombshell on me. “The job you’re interviewing for is ‘Alternate Meat Source Inspector’. She is a slave, soon to be alternate meat. Do you think you could kill her?”

Well, damn. I had heard about the whole White Slave Act, plus the bit about alternate sources to avoid the whole mad cow thing, but didn’t think it through. I looked down at her and my dick started to get hard again, thinking about what he just said. “Yeah, I think I could, actually”. Mr. Suit made a note on my paperwork then said, “Well, finish up your ratings, then we will move on to the hands on part of your interview”.

My hands on part? Unlike what had happened so far? Whatever.

I finished grading the pictures and handed the stack of them back to Mr. Suit.

He rapidly looked over my assigned scores, then stood up, “It seems your ratings are in line with our standards. Let’s see how you do with actual slaves. Please follow me.” As he opened the door, a pair of beefy guys came in. “Take her to the Jessica station.” Mr. Suit told them. This had a rather major effect on the girl.

She basically started freaking out, as he led me down the hallway, I heard her scream “NO! I’m not supposed to go there! NO! LET ME GO! NO, PLEASE…”

After passing a couple of doors, then entered into one. There were 5 nude slaves standing against the wall. “Please rate these 5 from one to 10”

I looked at them “Seven, Eight, Six, Eight, Seven”.

Mr. Suit nodded, and made a notation on my form.

“OK, here, use this and rate how tight they are”, handing me a largish rubber dildo.

OK, whatever. I walked up to the first, told her to turn sideways and bend at the waist. I applied a bit of spit to the dildo, then pushed it up into her. Moved it back and forth a few times, then pulled it out. Went on to the next slave and repeated the process, however, I didn’t need to lube it up anymore. Did the same to the other 3.

“OK, number 2 seems the tightest, with 1 and 4 seeming like they were next. 3 and 5 are rather loose, with 5 being the loosest.”

Mr. Suit made some other notes on my forms. “OK, now check how firm their breasts are.”

OK, again, whatever, like I’m not going to want to cop a feel off several naked chicks. I grabbed each one’s tits in series. “In order of firmness: 2, 3, 4, 1, and 5”.

Mr. Suit made more marks. “OK, let’s move on to the final hands on test.”

Mr. Suit led me through a set of doors on the side of the room. They opened into a room all done in white tile. Even had a drain in the center of the floor. However, what I first noticed was the chick that had taken my forms and had sucked my dick during the early parts of the interview was strapped naked onto this machine. There was a 7-foot-long steel bar sticking out of her pussy, and there seemed to be a lot of odd gearing and strange bit of machines attached to this whole thing.

Mr. Suit walks over to her and puts his hand on the machine. “Josh, meet Karen Caraway, Karen was sold into slavery by her boyfriend about 6 months ago. The thing she is strapped to is called a “Jessica 3000”. It’s designed to make Karen here into a spit roast. The job you are interviewing for is “An Alternate Meat Evaluator”, which means you will be evaluating women for their potential as meat. Your tests so far have shown that your personal taste, so to speak, in women, matches up with our current grading guidelines. This is your final test.”

He hands me a remote control with a green, red, and black button on it.

“This controls the Jessica 3000. The green button will release Karen, and she will go back to being one of our administrative staff for at least 6 months. The red button will trigger a blade at her throat, cutting it, then start the gutting and impalement cycle after she has died. The black button will gut her and impale her alive. Her fate is up to you.”

I looked down at Karen. She looked back up at me, silently. I remembered her lips and tongue on my dick, and felt myself getting harder (it’s not like I haven’t been hard for the last half hour as it is). I looked down at the remote, I looked back at her, then at the remote, and finally at Mr. Suit. “What about the girls that I just graded?”

“They will be processed this afternoon. Karen is the only optional one” I nodded, and looked down at the remote. Without much thought, my thumb fell on the black button. I hesitated for a second or two, then pushed it.

The machine sprang to life. The poll, or spit I guess, started to push its way into her. Blood started dripping out of her pussy. The machine moved the spit at about a foot a second or so, so after 5 or 6 seconds, blood started to come out of her mouth, followed by the steel rod erupting from between her lips. It was like a perverse reverse blow job. From underneath her, I heard a motor start up and what sounded like a buzz saw spinning.

“That’s the gutting system” Mr. Suit announced. “We are having some technical difficulties with it right now, but in general, it removes the upper and lower intestinal track, plus the liver and most of the other internal organs. It’s still not working 100%. We’ve got some people working on fixing it now. Oh, when can you start?”

That was 4 years ago. I don’t know how many women I have graded in this job, it seems like thousands. Most of them don’t end up like Karen did, but that’s something I never forget, when I say a woman is “Grade A, with the Live Roaster Endorsement”, I remember Karen on that machine. And my dick gets a little harder.

Club Tartarus’s Amateur night.

Club Tartarus, several weeks after Spellbook bought a controlling share.

Welcome to Amateur night at Club Tartarus! We have eight amateur free women competing for a grand prize of five thousand dollars tonight…

First up is the qualifying round. Let’s welcome Lush Lovejoy, Sapphire Twirl, Gabrielle Frost, Phoenix Foxy, Kiki Firefly, Valentina Velour, Jacklyn Temptation, and Celeste Nova to the stage! The way this works is they are each gonna dance twice. The winners are the three that get the most tips during their dances, so y’all will be the deciding judges!

Each of the girls takes the stage.  It's obvious that Sapphire, Gabrielle, and Celeste are the winners.  The DJ barely slows down his spiel to announce them as the winners of the 1st round.

OK girls, here is the deal, this is Club Tartarus, where they dance and die! You’ve signed a waiver, stating that you knew that death or injury was a possibility of your final dance. What you are going to do is an old fashion air dance. We will attach heart monitors to you so we know when you kick it. The surviving dancer wins the grand prize! But first we are gonna demonstrate how this works. Welcome Blissful Tease and Missy Diamond to the stage!

OK, first we are gonna do is put a noose around both Blissful’s and Missy’s lovely necks, as well as the heart monitors. We’ll then raise them up and let them air dance for you! Once one of them dies, like the slut she is, we will automatically lower the other slut, so she doesn’t kick it, at least not this time!

Blissful is a large breasted blonde, while Missy is a brunette with smaller, but shapely, breasts.  Both rate as Grade A.  The nooses are rapidly put around their necks and their hands tied behind their backs.

OK, here they go!

With that, the dancers were raised off the floor of the stage.  Both put on a good show as air dancers, but Missy seemed to be doing better.  After about 3 minutes, Blissful slowed down while Missy kept going.  A minute or so later, Blissful stopped moving.  Thirty seconds later, an alarm sounded and Missy was dropped to the stage.  A bouncer came up and removed the noose and untied her hands. A cook came out from the kitchen, and used a meat hook to take Blissful back to the kitchen.

And Missy is the winner! She, of course, is the air dancing champion of Club Tartarus, winning well over a dozen dance duels. This was Blissful’s first air dance. She didn’t know that she was being set up, but that’s what blondes are for, being snuffed for your pleasure. Some day, Missy is gonna lose a duel, but that’s not happening today! Let’s give her a round of applause! Blissful will be available as girl burgers and steaks as soon as the cooks can butcher her. Her skin will be girl leather on auction next Thursday!

Now that we’ve seen how it works, let’s welcome our finalist to the stage!

OK girls, any one want to back out? Let me warn you, there is a thousand dollar fee for breaking the contract. No? Are you sure? OK. String them up!

Nooses are put around the erstwhile “free” women's necks, and their hands are tied behind their backs by the bouncers.  The heart monitors are put on their chests.

OK, got a question to ask? Do they dance nude or not? Let me hear it for nude!

The audience erupts in applause

OK, let’s here it for in their bikinis!

There is almost no sound from the audience.

OK, pretty clear here, cut those suites off them. Try not to cut them too deep!

The bouncers take foot long knives and cut the swimsuits from the women, only cutting them a little, but all three are bleeding from cuts on their breasts. The crowd cheers as the suits fall to the stage.  The three women stand on the stage, pulled slightly up by the nooses around their necks.

Sapphire says, in a panic, “No, I’ve changed my mind. I would rather not do this. Please let me out of this.”

That’s too bad, you were committed as soon as the noose went around your neck. Sorry about that. OK, here they go!

The women are raised off the stage.  Celeste tries to put on a show, the other two just hanging and twitching.  After about a minute, an alarm sounds and Sapphire is dropped to the stage, unmoving.  The crowed cheers.

OK, that’s one down, let’s see how the final pair does!

With that, Gabrielle, and Celeste each kick and try to put on an air dance with Celeste doing much better.  They keep going for 90 seconds or so, then Gabrielle stops kicking and just hangs there.  Shortly after this, Celeste stops as well.

It looks like it’s gonna be down to the wire, they have stopped moving but no alarms yet!

Both alarms go off.  Both girls fall to the stage, not moving.

It seems like it was a tie! Check to make sure they both have snuffed it!

A bouncer brings out a stethoscope and checks both bodies.

Nope, they be deader than a door nail.

Well, damn. Hate it when that happens. Well, not really, I like seeing sluts snuff it. It’s even better when they aren’t slaves. Come back next month for our monthly amateur night! The grand prize rolls over, so next month it’s gonna be ten thousand! Anyway, all three will be burgers and steaks soon enough. Please remember, you can bid on their hides as girl leather next Thursday, as well as all the snuffed dancers from the week before. OK, let’s hear it for Jade Starlight, our next dancer. We don’t intend to snuff her today, but you never know! She sucks a mean cock, and that’s really the key to staying alive here at Club Tartarus. But if you really want to see her snuffed, she is for sale, like all our dancers and waitstaff, talk to your server for details. She’s also for rent for those that just want to find out what her throat feels like around your cock. You should check it out, she does this thing swallowing that will drive you wild!