Freedom is a Sickness (Tyr & thelittleslave)

[Tyr]

Many things had changed after year 2022, when most countries passed the ‘Compulsory Female Slavery Law’. The law had many parts and features, put into simple terms it made those women who couldn’t afford a freedom fee into slaves. Since that time, society had changed, and things were done differently, now it was commonly held that the world had entered an age of enlightenment, as the unnatural laws of equality and feminism had been overturned and outlawed for the betterment of all.

John Robertson’s family had been a direct benefactor, his father had a modest business in prison and police equipment, making quality manacles and cuffs, but with the changes in the year 2022, the business had boomed and was now an international concern. With both brick and mortar stores, along with Amazon selling all the style, colors and materials possible to make a slave owner proud, for displaying his property. No longer was chrome the only material, now owners wanted gold, titanium, silver, and more. Taking over his father’s business, John had continued to grow and expand his families company. Normally occupied with company business, a personal matter had come to the top of the stack most recently.

An old rival of his from his high school days had a few years ago asked him for a substantial loan, in order to expand his own business. John had agreed, only because the deal had a Universal Commercial Asset Pledge, which basically on default gave him the right to pick and choose from various liquid or easily sellable asset to pay if principle or balloon payments were missed, to make up the difference. The normal practice and those held up in court, was that whenever possible assets taken in this fashion, must minimize the impact on the ongoing business concern whenever possible. The thought was since they were a broad pledge, and one couldn’t go about destroying another party’s lively hood unless there was no choice. Still the agreement gave injured party first choice of which assets to take, if they were not to get the cash they was owed.

As his old rival, Mike Mendez, had missed his payment, John was now in a position to require surrender of certain assets of equal value. Most people would have taken cars, art, jewelry or other marketable asset, but today John Robertson had some specific items in mind. Mike had a wife slave, by the name of Farah Fuckhole, whom John has very much wanted to purchase during high school, but because of an accident with his father’s favorite car, his dad had him grounded, and he missed the auction at the slave fair, and that luscious piece of ass was sold, but to make matters worse, she’d gone to his rival. He really put all of that behind him, as a high school crush till he’d been invited to Mike’s home, and met his family. What a sick affair, Farah was strutting around like she was free, and she’d even given birth to a daughter, that looked a lot like her, and that dumb slut was of age and free, acting like she had rights and privilege.

It was this kind of disgusting behavior that just made things worse, allowing any adult women to be unchained. Sure the law allowed it, but in truth any forward thinking person would realize this kind of archaic behavior wasn’t good for any woman. For god’s sake it was 2065, not 1995. Mike didn’t punish or even have his slave’s properly attired, and he even called his wife just Farah, and not her proper name Fuckhole. How could this be healthy, ignoring your own daughter’s proper upbringing? Still John had a very practical solution, one that would remove this deviant behavior, and allow him to fulfill an old fantasy. So, when he filed his claim, which he listed Mike’s daughter Rachel as the first asset he claimed for repayment. He would have listed Farah as Mike called her, but unfortunately, she was protected as wife slave, not an ordinary slave, daughter of age, had no such protection.

Mike Mendez received the formal registered letter of asset seizure; it now lay on open, on his desk at home, open where it fell, a haunting reminder of the world he lived in. Fighting it was hopeless, and when he’d made the deal, he’d never been worried about anything bad happening, and even if something was to happen, he had other assets anyone else would have taken. Reluctantly he called to his wife.

Farah, please send Rachel to my office, I need to speak with her.

 

[thelittleslave]

Life as a free woman was boring, to say the least, but no one could ever accuse Rachel of not being grateful for her freedom. She knew quite well what the alternatives were - her own mother had suffered such, but she'd been one of the lucky ones - and she knew what her life might have been like, were her father cruel, or even just less successful. She could have been enslaved by anyone; used as a servant or a slave-wife or worse, and she'd heard stories of worse. Of men with terrifying appetites, and who treated women like little more than pets or livestock.

So as boring as it might have been, Rachel was content to spend most of her life in her own home, reading or drawing, or helping her mother with the household chores. She knew that some day, she would likely have to get married. Unmarried women didn't do well past a certain age, and eventually, she knew, her father would die, and if she was still unmarried then, it was more than likely that someone would claim her as their own, with no male relative remaining to shield her from it.

So better to behave, and try and find a man who might treat her like her father treated her mother, despite her dreams of a better world some of her books had inspired. Even there, Rachel knew it could be worse. This way, she wasn't expected to work or contribute much beyond helping to run her eventual husband's household and, if he wished, bear him children. It wasn't an awful life.

Rachel tried to remind herself that whenever she was miserably bored, or even finding herself missing school, and she was doing the same now, curled up as she was on her bed in her own pjs, enjoying her freedom to indulge in not always having to dress or be out of bed before the afternoon.

She was reading one of her favorite books for the fourth or fifth time when the knock came on the door, which opened to reveal her mother. Rachel sat up, nodding as her mother explained her father needed to see her in his office. "What for?" she asked as she slipped out of bed, heading for the door without bothering to change. Her mother didn't know, so the girl jus shrugged, softly treading through the house until she reached the partially closed door of her father's office.

"Daddy?" she called, gently pushing the door open, "you wanted to see me?"

 

[Tyr]

Mike Mendez tried to think of what he was going to tell his daughter, how was he going to explain this? His house had been a sanctuary from the outside world, he tried to raise daughter in the old fashion ways, one that gave respect and honor to the opposite sex, that treated them as equal and not mindless fuck holes to be used. Most fathers he knew either enslaved their own daughter, fucking them from the time they could at sixteen and older or selling them as virgins at auction for maximum value when they reached eighteen. Mike had done neither, instead paying his daughter’s freedom fee when she reached adult age, allowing her not to go to auction. Most thought he was a wimp and pussy whipped, giving women such freedom, for his attitude was definitely running counter to the vast majority of the male population. Even today there was discussion and movement to lower the adult age of women to sixteen, as it was argued that several prime years were being wasted, and that would save father’s from having to guard their daughters before taking them to market.

Have a seat princess. I have something important to tell you.

He had been so close, his new factory was almost ready, if It hadn’t been for bureaucratic delays, it would be ready, and he’d be producing upgrade slave cages. You couldn’t make money without investing money, and he’d made the mistake of going all in, and now his daughter was going to pay. He felt guilty, because he hadn’t prepared his daughter, she had been protected and sheltered, and now she was going to be shoved out into the real world with only the minimalist of training. Rachel had taken the required courses any girl had too, but even then, most fathers pushed their daughters to do more, because it increased their value when sold. Mike hadn’t and now she would suffer for it, he just knew it. He lowered his head in shame, his head in this hands.

It’s my fault, I made a business deal, and it went bad. I pledged all my asset to get the loan, and I got behind, and now they are forcing forfeiture of assets, to meet my obligations…

Mike stuttered, stopping what he was saying, as he tried to tell her. All because of John Robertson, once a high school friend, but towards the end of their senior year, they both wanted the same girl Farah, and he’d gotten lucky and purchased her, because even then John’s family had more money than his. Since then he’d worked hard proving to Farah that he could be the best husband a man could be, and now he was a failure, he’d lost Rachel, their daughter.

My creditor John Robertson of Robertson Industries, has picked you from my non-vital assets, to repay my obligation. A Cunt Wagon will be here in 10 minutes to pick you up. I’m sorry Princess.

The sorrow clear in his voice.

 

[thelittleslave]

It was a rare day that Rachel was asked to her father's office. Not that he disallowed it, or thought it inappropriate due to her gender (although Rachel was well aware that this was very much the case in the vast majority of families), but he was a good father, kind and loving, and he preferred to use his office strictly for business or formal matters. And of course, Rachel had no need to participate in such things. Her future husband, whoever he would be, would undoubtedly think it improper for her to participate in his business matters, and so the teen generally contented herself with a more domestically-centered education. As long as she was free to read, amongst other things, she could live with that.

Any other concept was entirely foreign to her, and so all she could come up with was that perhaps her father had asked her to his office because he'd found her a decent husband who was open to having a free woman for his bride. Earlier discussions had talked of waiting a little longer for these plans, but Rachel also knew that such men were rare, and they would likely have to jump on an opportunity like that when they had the chance.

She still felt too young to marry, and she hardly wanted to leave her father or mother, but she knew she was still lucky, and besides, it wasn't as if she'd never be able to see her family again once she was married. She knew it was serious when he instructed her to sit. Rachel did as she was told, tensing a little even as she held on to the hope that he'd found her a decent husband.

"What is it, Daddy?" she asked from her chair, noticing that the expression on his face was anything but pleasant, "is something wrong?" True concern didn't sink in until she saw her father - always so strong - drop his head into his hands. "Daddy?" she asked again, voice barely audible.

The repetition was unnecessary, for he quickly began to explain. Something about business - why he was he telling her about business and . . . assets? Was it something to do with her mother? But no - Rachel's mother was legally owned by her father, but she was a wife-slave, and therefore untouchable by all others. But then . . .

has picked you from my non-vital assets, to repay my obligation. a cunt wagon . . .

Rachel stared at her father, eyes wide in shock. "What?" she questioned, voice soft and full of confusion, "I don't understand, I thought . . . you paid my fee, didn't you? I thought I was safe, I . . . ten minutes? Daddy?" She bit her lip in an attempt to quiet herself; to give herself a moment to gather her wits.

"H-how am I supposed to get ready in ten minutes, how will I pack everything? John Robertson, have I . . . do I know him? Is he nice, papa? Does mama know? I don't . . . I don't want to leave yet, I'm not ready Daddy, please."

 

[Tyr]

Mike heard his daughter, and felt her pain if for no other reason than he’d done this to her. He’d guarded her, protect her, nurtured her, and now he’d left he unprepared, totally vulnerable to what her future was going to be like. It wasn’t like they didn’t know the world they lived in, and didn’t see the everyday, slaves being held, punished or even sexually assaulted. Slavery wasn’t hindered; in fact the exact opposite, today slavery was a center piece of their society. Maybe he was wrong and she had slutty submissive gene that was supposed to be in every real woman.

I did pay your fee, but you’re my property because of that, thus you can be sold or taken if I didn’t pay my debts. I’m sorry sweetheart, I’ve failed you.

This whole situation was bad enough, and then she started to talk about packing and getting ready. The poor thing just didn’t understand, how could she, she was so innocent, so naive. Mike took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure, if for no other reason than for his daughter’s sake.

There is no packing; you will be at the front door when the cunt wagon comes for you.

Mike knew he sounded a bit harsh, but there was nothing he could do.

It doesn’t matter if he’s nice, or a mean old son of a bitch, he’s going to be your master for as long as he owns you. Now go tell your mama, and then wait by the door for the wagon.

Mike didn’t say it, but he wondered if at this point it wasn’t just easier to just sell Rachel’s mother Farah, then deal with all the bitching and whining, and just go to the local high school graduation sale and pick himself out something new and fresh. It wasn’t right he knew, but swelling in his pants at the idea, was soon going to be hard to ignore. He was beginning to think he was being the real man of the house, and his family was suffering for it.

 

[thelittleslave]

This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. Rachel's daddy was kind and good and loving, and he would never let this happen to her, would he? Her denial was stronger even than her fear, and she found herself frozen still in front of him, trying and failing to grasp at some sort of understanding; a comprehension of what was happening. Or waiting, rather, for her to wake up and see this nightmare ended.

But Rachel was already awake, and her father's voice was filling her ears, talking about fees and property and failure - she was his property. She'd known that, of course. That was the way the world worked, but it had always been something on the peripheral of her life; something she didn't have to care about, because her daddy wasn't like other men. He'd never talked of selling her, and he'd never treated her poorly.

Which was his next words, short and direct, took her by surprise. Rachel frowned up at him. "No packing?" she repeated confusedly, but her father wasn't done, his next words bringing tears to her eyes, even if they were the truth. It didn't matter what John Robertson was like. He was going to own her, and by law, she'd be required to do as he commanded, no matter what. It was enough to subdue her, and teen could only nod at his instruction, barely resisting the urge to leap into her father's arms for a hug.

"B-bye daddy," she called to him in a soft voice before turning for his office door. She was supposed to find her mother now - had nobody even told her? Was Rachel going to have to break the news of her impending slavery to the woman who'd raised her, only a few minutes before she was too be gone from her life, perhaps forever?

Rachel fled to her room first, trying to ignore the horrible feeling that came with disobeying her father and, sniffling, picked up her old school backpack, filling it as quickly as she could with a few of her favorite books, a framed picture of her family when her father had taken them on a trip, her favorite sweatshirt, and an old stuffed animal she'd had since she was a baby. Setting the backpack by the front door of her house, she then went to locate her mother, shaking and sniffling all the while.

She found Farah in the kitchen, preparing an evening meal she wouldn't get to taste, and stopped in the doorway. "Mama?" she called in a tear-filled voice, "I-I've come to say goodbye, I... daddy says I've been acquired b-by a Mr. Robertson, and I-I have to go now. The wagon is coming."

She exchanged hugs with the woman before turning back for the door, making it halfway there before stopping, and running to her father's office, bursting in and assaulting him with a hug while releasing her previously contained sobs. "Please Daddy," she cried, "I don't want to go. I don't want to be a slave, isn't there anything you can do?"

 

[Tyr]

Mike was still in shocked, thinking about what had been, and what he should do, when his daughter game abruptly in to hug him while pleading her desire to stay. He soft young nubile body pressing against him, as she begged to stay. Feeling he hadn’t known, or had suppressed for so long, started to stir, and he began to question his own ethos. Had he been wrong, other men never hid or squashed their thoughts about women as he did. Any desire he’d had for his daughter were pushed deep and ignored, because he thought them wrong, or destructive. Yet if he was truthful with himself he understood why many a father took their very own daughters, even if it diminished their value upon sale. Maybe he had been wrong, and hadn't been a good father, and raised his daughter to be prepared for the real world, instead of coddling her and letting her have a false sense of reality. Still he once again suppressed those feelings, and spoke to his afraid daughter.

Nothing princess, nothing. I can’t do anything.

He held her tight one last time, like he did when she used to wake up from a scary dream or worry about monster coming to take her away at night. Today it was real. Then finally he pushed her off, holding her at arm’s length, so he could look at her and speak.

Look at me. You’re a smart girl, you’re good looking. Take pleasure in making him happy, and you will be happy. Now go!

His hands released her, so she could leave. Even as he did so there was a loud knocking at the front door. Even as he waited for her to leave, Mike promised himself, that starting today, he was going to change his life, and do something for himself.