#slave collar

One day, perhaps, all the hot police officers will be proudly labeled as state property…

(Trying to reconcile the collar and the smile I came up with this bit of dystopian fantasy. I hope it is understood as a condemnation of slavery.)

Bell was sure that she was as happy as anyone could ever hope to be. Compared her childhood, she was living the life. In fact, she doubted there was a slave anywhere who had it as good as she did. The people who bought her only four weeks ago were incredibly nice to her. They were patient as she learned all her new duties, praising her when she mastered one task after the other. And soon her mistress wanted to start teaching her how to cook.

The kindness her owners showed her reminded her of the way her farmer had treated his dog. And like that dog, she now enjoyed being there for her owners. When she was called, she always ran to her master or mistress, excited to find out what she could do for them. She knew she would never be family; the thought was absurd, but to be like a family pet was a relationship she had not dared to hope for.

The only problem was learning to eat slowly. That was difficult. She now knew that she had been hungry all her life. It would take time to learn to eat without fearing that she wouldn't get enough.

Another thing she was learning was that she was naked. Like hunger, it had just been part of life for her and the people around her. Now, however, except for the slave next door, she was the only one naked, and she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to cover her body. Unlike with food, however, no one was offering her clothes. Since they obviously liked her this way, though, she was happy.

And every day she was learning new ways to make them happy. She had discovered that along with the service she gave them, they liked it when she played little games with them. For one, Master loved it when she gave him little excuses to punish her. He could tell she playing and happily gave her a light spanking. (Bell knew all too well what a real beating was like). He would swat her bottom, and she would twist around on his lap and squeak and yelp until he was hard and she was wet, then came something that satisfied them both. Mistress, on the other hand, loved a good back rub, followed by a good front rub and then a good licking. Who would have thought that it could be so easy and even fun to keep her owners happy!

On the dairy farm she had grown up on, nothing was ever good enough for her farmer. She had worked hard at the farm duties she was given, and her mother always needed more help than she could give with her younger sisters. The older and stronger she got, the more difficult and numerous the jobs she was given. She had enjoyed caring for the cows, but it always seemed to go beyond her strength. And since her mother and all the other adult slaves were always either giving milk or pregnant, the older girls had plenty to do for them as well. With a mother who always seemed to be in a foul mood and crying siblings asking for this or that, she had lived for years on the verge of collapse. Worst of all was the prospect of being bred like her mother. Having children would be a challenge, but to produce children who were doomed to the same fate would be crushing. It was always assumed that when she turned 18, she would either be sold or bred, and feared being sold the most.

Yet here she was, a valued pet instead of a farm animal. And best of all, her owners wanted to adopt any children she bore them. The idea that she would give birth to children that would grow up as free human beings filled her with joy that almost seemed unbearable. Perhaps one of them would keep her as their slave when her master and mistress died one day. Then she could die old and in peace.

That is, assuming the nightmares went away. They had always been normal, but now she was disturbing her master and mistress. Bell feared they would make her sleep in a different room or sell her. A therapist might have told them that the nightmares stemmed from past trauma and repressed fears. The uncertainty of her ability to bear them children was the worst. She had seen women who could not get pregnant or who had miscarried more than once hauled off to God knows where. She certainly did not want to leave this paradise.