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First a word of thanks to the editor, Holly M. Though the start is innocuous I hope the tale that follows will entertain you. I’ve used a futuristic setting to create a society where this story would seem ordinary. Chapter One is the real start of the story and will more than justify the use of the Femdom tag.
The passengers crowded forward to the viewports as we exited the wormhole. I sat nursing my scotch and let the excited chatter wash over me. The view was spectacular, a ribbon of bright metal shining in a black star studded sky. Most of the passengers traveling with me were tourists with a smattering of business types. I was here to work.
After a few days holidaying I was going to be working out there on one of the open ends, helping to build the ring out to circle the star. It was half a mile thick and ten miles wide, with a current length somewhere near ten thousand miles long. I’d read all about it. At the current rate, it would take another fifteen hundred years to complete, costing some ten to the eighteen credits.
It was a world so desperate for cash that, with enough money anything was possible if you knew who to ask. It was the only place in the universe where slavery was legal. There were entire districts where clothing was optional, and enclaves could be found that catered to every perverted taste man had developed.
My contract started on Monday at six a.m., leaving me three days to explore. There was a four-hour difference between local and ship time. There it was late evening Friday. Here it was only about mid afternoon? My visa and employment contract should see me through immigration and my few photos and souvenirs shouldn’t hold me up in customs. Then it would be party time.
Customs was a breeze, but immigration was unbelievable. Though my credentials were all in order, they had strict health regulations. While it took them five minutes to check my papers, my ordeal in the health centre took over half an hour.
“This won’t hurt,” the nurse assured me, spraying a small aerosol onto my arm.
I blinked as the needle went in, and watched as she filled three vials with my blood. Despite my clean health record, these people were taking no chances. I’d already been scanned and x-rayed, and I now stood naked while some old biddy of a nurse took my blood.
She pulled the needle out and pressed the plaster on with practiced ease, hardly looking as she tossed it into the sharps bin. She looked up as she stuffed the rack into an envelope.
“I need a sperm sample next and I need to measure you flaccid and erect.” she said matter-of-factly.
I would have protested that they were going too far, but I’d learned not to pick fights with bureaucracy and merely wondered what crazy law deemed this necessary.
She swiveled around with a vernier in her hand and scooped up my cock to measure it, her gloved hand reinforcing the strangeness.
“Five and a quarter,” she said, turning her head towards a screen.
She began to masturbate me, her thin hard fingers bringing my cock to life and coaxing it to full mast in tens of seconds. If she’d been younger and prettier, I could have enjoyed this, but with her in these surroundings I felt embarrassed and exposed.
“Seven and three eighths,” she intoned over her shoulder.
I watched, not wanting to argue, but my own measurement clocked in at seven and a half.
“Five and a quarter,” she said as she measured the shaft. “Six dead,” she went on after she measured my head.
I liked the sound of that, a six-inch meaty head.
“Here,” she said as she handed me a small plastic cup. “Can you do it yourself or do you want films?”
“Do it myself,” I found myself saying. It wouldn’t take me more than a few minutes considering my enforced celibacy over the past few days.
Her eyes widened as I grabbed my cock and started stroking. No doubt they had a private room somewhere, but I had no hang ups about performing in front of people. I’d had enough gangbangs to cure me of that shyness.
My shudders splashed cum over my fingers as I filled the cup. I wondered if she would want to lick it as she took the cup from me and handed me a tissue.
“Right, just a couple of questions and we’re finished,” she said capping the cup then turning to put it in the rack. “What’s your sexual orientation?”
“Straight,” I answered.
“Any preferred fetish?”
Again I wanted to tell her to mind her own business, but I held my tongue. “No, I’m strictly heterosexual.”
She turned back to the screen and tapped it a couple of times. “Right, you can get dressed. Turn right outside the door and follow the green line.”
I dressed quickly, then grabbed my kitbag and was out. I followed the directions on my pad to find the tram stop and found a seat as I joined the queue. I’d booked a hotel in a nudist district and had an account stuffed with credits to spend.
It was now early evening here. I was hungry, a little tired, and stressed by bahis firmaları the ordeal in immigration. A stiff drink was going to be my first aim, with food second and sex a close third. Maybe I could find some chick to have dinner with and bed her afterward. That would be ideal.
The queue stirred as the tram arrived. I stood and shuffled forward as the line closed up, while those on board alighted. I went upstairs to the open air seats, where I could enjoy the fresh breeze while taking in the view.
As we left the spaceport, the buildings gave way to fields of grain and vegetables, the Ring’s main export, which got more profitable with every yard that the bots and I would be constructing for them. I settled back in my seat as the tram rumbled on, wasting my precious minutes as we stopped in a couple of small hamlets.
It took me half an hour to get to the stop for the lateral tram. The vehicle filled up with commuters as we got to the outskirts, I got my first proper view of slaves with their red and green collars; red for the natives and green for immigrants, the colour I’d sport for two years if I wanted to move here.
As I waited for the cross tram, I realized I must be out of the grey zone as I saw my first naked blue-collared slave. The man leading her looked like me, broad shouldered with a nice lean waist and the short cropped hair of a spacer. I had to wait until they sat opposite me on the bench to get a good look at her. My cock twitched in my pants as she sat open-legged next to him. She was in her twenties, breasts beginning to surrender to gravity, but looking tempting enough for my fingers to want to stroke and fondle them.
She was shaved, with a fat mound, the hood of her clit showing pinkly in the middle. When my eyes found her face they met hers, she stared impassively, her smile looking fixed in place. I wasn’t the only one showing an interest. Two young tourists moved seats to get a closer look, their eyes fixed on her as they whispered to one another.
I wondered what it would be like to own one for a day. They had daily auctions in the capital, but I was prepared to bet that a slave looking like her would cost me at least a month’s salary. If I wanted to pay for it I was better off with the yellow collars, I could pay them by the hour.
The hotel was all I expected. As I got out of the taxi, my cock started twitching at the sight of the naked young girls among the more forgettable bodies. I hoisted my bag onto one of the trolleys and trundled it inside, my eyes flicking around at the breasts and pussies of the desirable women.
The receptionist was topless with fine rounded breasts that automatically drew my eye. I wondered, as I walked up to the desk if she was naked below the waist as well.
“Mably, Rickhard Mably. I booked a room,” I said as she looked up.
When she looked back at the screen, I took the opportunity to study her breasts and figure, flicking my eyes to her face as she turned back. I’d definitely take her to bed if I could. I might try to chat her up when I had more time, but first I wanted to get settled in.
I had a room on the twentieth floor and a view of the lake. My bed was the next best thing to sleeping in zero G. It had inches of memory foam and was the softest bed I’d had in years, but more importantly, it was big enough for me to have a girl on each side.
I threw what clothes I’d brought, mainly clean underwear, into a drawer and stripped to hit the shower. After drying myself, my next thought was the bar, then food. I slipped my pad into its case and hung it from my wrist.
It was strange but nice to feel my cock flopping around. It had been a while since I’d been to my last clothing optional resort. As I sealed the door I wondered if I’d get as many fucks here as I had at the last two nudist resorts I’d visited. I intended to play the part of a company executive from my home planet, Tivalot, since I had money enough to splash around doing it.
I walked down the corridor to the lift and hit the call button. As the lift arrived I nearly collided with an older couple as they got out and even though the woman had wrinkly flaps for breasts, I was pleased to see her eyes widen as she checked my cock out.
I was thankful for the twenty-four hour life that kept the restaurant open and ordered a scotch from the bar before I found a table. My waitress had a little heart shaped apron that hid a small flesh–coloured thong. Her breasts were generous handfuls with little pink nipples. I ordered steak and felt suitably replete when I leant back with another scotch after the meal.
“Do you know any nice places to go?” I asked the receptionist.
“Try the bar next door,” she suggested, flashing me a false smile.
I gave her a pointless smile back as I offered my thanks. I asked the doorman on the way out and he gave me an address to feed into the taxi. A short ride later and I was standing in front of a multi-story building advertising dozens of floors from salsa to jive; it seemed kaçak iddaa like the place to be.
I checked out three floors before I found one with enough young pussy to satisfy me. It took me five minutes to hook up with a slim brunette, and a couple more to find an empty alcove and drag her in there. I lifted one leg behind her as she reached down to play with my cock, cooing as it swelled to full size in her hand. From the way the play developed I could tell she wanted it as much as I did. When she leant in and started to rub my head on her erect nipples, I whispered: “Let’s go back to my room.”
I darkened the canopy of the taxi to play with her breasts, sucking and fingering her nipples as she held my cock, making her wet by the time we got to the hotel. The foreplay had to stop till we made it to the lift. Once in, I pushed her to her knees and let her suck on my cock, enjoying the feeling of her tight mouth sliding on my shaft.
When we got to my room, I kissed her as I laid her on the bed then spread her legs open and pushed her thong aside. I played my head over her wet folds before I pushed it in, inching it slowly as her tight tunnel stretched to take me.
She ‘Ou’d’ and ‘Ah’d’ as it filled her, gripping my forearms as I gave it that last thrust to fully penetrate her. As she got used to it, I started to rock my hips, plunging it in and out of her tight tunnel as the pleasure surged through it. She had her orgasm first and I assumed the episode in immigration had drained me more than I realised.
As I resumed she clung to me. “Give me a minute,” she gasped between breaths.
“I need to come,” I hissed back. “You’ll have to suck me off if you don’t want to fuck anymore.”
“Yes!” she cried as I gave her another exploratory thrust.
She tried to push me up, but the pleasure of her wriggling took me into another thrust and then another and she was soon moaning in pleasure again as I continued pounding her. As I felt my orgasm coming, I pulled out at the last moment to see if my seed would spurt up as far as her face.
My aim was low as I pumped my trembling hand. The first jet spurted out to spatter her ribs. The pleasure of my climax killed my interest in where the second went, all that interested me was that moment of ecstasy where the world fell away.
I collapsed next to her when my exertion took its toll. I felt her get up and heard the shower run as I drifted off to sleep. I was on my own when I woke up, annoyed that there was no morning fuck, but there was plenty more out there who would like a taste of my cock.
I had a shower before breakfast and sat in the bar with a beer while casting my eye around for my next willing victim. After two beers and a scotch chaser I decided to try my luck on the beach. As I got to the shade of the palms I heard distant music. It was coming from a thatched structure some two hundred yards down. From here it looked like the place to be. There were plenty of people milling around it.
I crossed the grass in a minute or two, seeing the crowd become individuals and picking out one or two pretty girls in amongst them. I went to the bar and was delighted to see a topless beauty with a green collar come up to serve me.
I turned and surveyed my surroundings as she walked away to serve the next customer, scanning the dance floor and then the tables along the rail in front of it. The profile of a pretty blond caught my eye. She was looking a little bored as she sat staring out over the rail.
“On your own?” I asked, putting my scotch on the table as I slipped into the seat next to her.
She turned from looking over the rail and looked at me. “No, my boyfriend is out there.” She flicked her head to the dance floor.
“Come and dance with me, I’m available.”
“No thanks, I’m waiting for him to come back.”
I half stood, letting my cock dangle before her. “I’m a good dancer,” I said, holding my hand out.
A hand pulled on my shoulder. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”
“What’s it to you?” I said fiercely, shrugging the hand off.
“She’s with me,” the guy replied angrily, thrusting his drink onto the table.
I rose to face him. He stepped back, his hand balling into a fist. I got in first, my hands going to my face as I brought my foot up and crushed his balls with my ankle. I watched him double up and flop to the floor, screaming as he fell.
I stepped back and tried to look innocent, raising my arms as she rushed past me crying the name David. Within seconds people started to congregate, spectators to him still writhing on the floor in agony.
As the crowd churned, I slipped into it, ignoring the cries and clutching hands and maded my way through to join the flow and hopefully disappear. I was safely outside heading for the beach when I heard the ringtone start on my phone. I ignored it, more concerned with checking over my shoulder for people following, till I got to the shelter of the palms. A stern Avatar appeared on the screen with a justice logo kaçak bahis across the bottom.
“You are required to report to the nearest police station, the penalty for disregard is a daily doubling of your sentence,” a mechanical voice informed me.
The screen went blank and a map appeared, showing me my location and the flashing spot that I presumed was the nearest station.
My shoulders slumped. This was a fine start. I was amazed they’d tracked me so quickly. I wasn’t worried too much, I was sure that my plea of self-defense would stand. I hadn’t seen any cameras, but if they’d been able to ID me then they should show him preparing to throw the first blow.
I turned reluctantly. With my pad bricked I had no option but to go get this sorted out. I wanted to get back to searching for chicks and bedding them. I had to walk the whole way there, my ID failing to open the door of any of the taxis along the way.
The station was a small building no more than two metres a side. It had one of those half cylinder security doors. I stepped inside, standing astride for balance as it spun me rapidly around on its axis. The screen in front of me flickered into life, displaying a pleasant plump woman in a uniformed shirt. Her eyes were focused away from the camera, flicking back and forth as if she were reading data.
“Hi,” I said to attract her attention. “I’m Rickhard Mably, you wanted to see me.”
The wait for her to look over lengthened. Ten seconds, Thirty seconds…
“You’re being processed,” she said, finally looking at me.
I saw her arm move and heard the click of a key. The circular disc under my feet dropped away, causing my knees to buckle when it stopped dead. I stepped shakily out onto a little platform to see a pneumatic capsule approaching on a feeder track. I leant out, seeing gravity generators some twenty feet below me. Even if I’d wanted to escape, that way was impossible.
Behind me the door had closed, leaving me with no options but to enter the capsule when it arrived. I felt its movement, first downward then forward till it came to a rumbling, squealing stop. I braced for the vacuum acceleration. I felt the swoosh as the inner door dilated and the capsule was sucked in. With no handholds, I was left bumping the walls in the close confines of the capsule.
This was no cushioned commercial system, no wheels and dampers to smooth the ride. I braced myself against the knocks and jerks as the capsule rattled along. I was sweating and feeling bruised and battered by the time it stopped, thankful the ride was over as I felt the machine handling begin again.
I twisted around to face the door as it began rotating me upright, and was met with the sight of a guard looking at me from a corner window as the doors folded open.
“Hey, what kind of transport system do you call that?” I said glaring at him.
He gave a weary shake of his head, a smile growing on his lips. “Put your pad in the receptacle and walk down the corridor.”
A slot big enough for a suitcase opened in the wall, and I stared at him as I slipped it off my wrist and tossed it in.
“Now down the corridor.”
“Don’t I get a receipt?”
He smirked. “You’ll get it back when you’re released,” he said as the slot snapped closed. Hooking his thumb down the corridor he added. “Go on or you’ll get the cattle prod.”
I turned and marched down the antiseptic corridor mustering what dignity I could as my cock flopped about with my footfalls. The door slid open in front of me as I got to it and I entered a gleaming white cubicle.
“Please remove all clothing and put it in the receptacle,” a bland female voice ordered.
I smiled at the slot opening up and waited.
“The sensors detect footwear,” came the same even-toned voice.
I shrugged, then bent to slip my sandals off before tossing them in. A spray of soapy water erupted from the ceiling, sparkling in the light as it washed over me. The smell and taste of the chemicals in it bringing me close to retching as I brought my hands up to shield my mouth.
It lasted about a minute before fresh warm water cascaded down. I looked up and swilled my face and gave my hair a brush over before leaning back to let the water wash over my chest as I rinsed my balls and pubes. When the shower finished, the wall opened and the light went out. I stepped through and hot air blew onto me from both sides. I brushed my hair as I turned on the spot to expose my body to the welcoming blast.
The wall opened again as the light went out and I stepped out in front of another uniformed man.
“Mably?” he asked looking down at his screen.
“Yes,” I answered boldly.
“Do you wish to present a defense against the charge of public affray?”
“Yes, it was self-defense,” I replied, leaning forward.
“To your right, number twelve,” he said, tapping his finger on the screen.
The door slid back and I stepped forward feeling a little more confident, making my way down the passageway to an open door half way down. Seeing the sparsely furnished cell, my anger and annoyance flared up again. It contained one of those cheap tubular steel chairs, a toilet and a screen on the wall.
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