by Mark Andrews
Title Page
SLAVERY 2030
By Mark Andrews
Kink Books is an imprint
of W&H Publishing LLP.
Publisher Information
This eBook edition published by Kink Books is an imprint of W&H Publishing LLP, Foresters Hall, 25-27 Westow Street, London, SE19 3RY.
Digital edition converted and published
by Andrews UK Limited 2012
www.andrewsuk.com
Previously published by The Olympia Press
PO Box 148, Ryde, Isle of Wight, PO33 9BE.
Copyright © Mark Andrews
The right of Mark Andrews to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead and is purely coincidental.
This eBook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by the way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, electronically copied, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent.
Chapter 1
The historians would later agree that reality TV had been the most likely trigger that led the world to a resurgence of officially sanctioned slavery - in its worst forms.
As this new form of media entertainment became more and more popular, the public demanding ever more skin and each new stage becoming progressively more salacious, so did the public interest in more normal sports decline, to the extent that TV networks began to drop them off, one by one, programming more of the inane but now violent and extremely sexy reality shows to replace them.
Sports administrators became worried. Now that sportsmen and women were all professionals, it cost a fortune to train a team of footballers or even to train one single athlete.
“What we have to do is to counter the threat in like manner,” said Joel Purvis, CEO of the World Athletics Union, to his board of directors. To a man (and woman), they looked enquiringly up the table at him. “These reality shows have the participants totally naked more often than not. We have to do the same ...”
There was a chorus of protests from around the table but Joel just smiled, and waited until it had all died down. Then he went on. “Without TV, we are dead in the water. It is our principal source of funds. This organization will be bankrupt within two months if you don’t endorse my ideas ...”
“What are they?” said Nkomo, the delegate from the African Region.
Joel smiled again. “First, we order that from now on, all athletics ... all athletics, be performed naked - stark naked. I believe there will be an instant renewal, nay, a never before seen interest in our sport. Every event around the world will be televised ...”
Joel didn’t get to itemise his other ideas for the delegates discussed his first proposal ad nauseam for the next six hours - but it got through. The threat of losing their lucrative directorships was enough to tip the balance and it was eventually a unanimous decision.
It was received with varying degrees of resistance around the world but when it was pointed out to the athletes that their rather inflated salaries as sportsmen and women were at grave risk, they gave in - or left the sport - and while those that stayed were, to a man and woman, severely embarrassed every time they trotted out to the track, stark naked, the fans, both at the track and at home, in front of the wall TVs that now graced every home, showed their appreciation.
Indeed, the very first meets, right around the world, saw people flocking to see this new innovation - the most athletic human beings in the world, now all stark naked, their magnificent bodies totally uncovered, racing around the foot track, leaping over the high jump or throwing the javelin and they all now had intense appeal.
Back at world HQ, the directors grinned - and gave their CEO a handsome bonus.
The leaders of the various worldwide football codes watched this development with mixed emotions. Jealousy (that they hadn’t thought of it first), envy at the wads of funds now flowing into the WAU, excitement at the incredible sight of stark naked athletes on open show to the world and determination to follow suit at the first opportunity.
They did, every single one of them and so did every other sport all anxious not to be left out in the cold, and so within a few months, all adult sports (and that meant all whose participants were over sixteen years) were now being performed with them totally and utterly naked. Of course more than a few left the industry altogether, too ashamed to show themselves so blatantly, but most stayed although there were very few who actually enjoyed stripping off to expose their bodies so totally.
Their salaries - their very good salaries continued though and many even received bonuses, for the TV stations returned in full force to cover these now extraordinarily sexy events. Athletes of all types are possessed of the finest bodies the planet has to offer and now those bodies were on full show, straining every muscle to beat the next man or woman ...
The next stage in the reversion of mankind to an acceptance of institutionalised slavery was the emergence of private ownership of sports - all sports. In the past, particularly in the former United States, individuals had owned football and baseball teams and their grounds; now this became universal as entrepreneurs saw the new emergence of sports of all kinds as being the new money tree.
They paid their naked employees well but they also demanded the best.
As competition intensified, it became clear after a few years that a total and sole dedication to their craft was now necessary for a sportsman or woman. A suitable diet, sufficient sleep, a hard regime of exercise and training were only some of the requisites for this new breed of athlete and before long, James Hardwick, owner of the London Tigers, one of the new female soccer clubs that had sprung up in the wake of the new resurgence of interest in sports, put a new ultimatum - and a new set of contracts before his players.
“In this new age of competition, ladies, it is not enough to be just good ... you have to be the best. The demands to be put on your body will be supreme, not only for them to be strong, fit and of course competent as footballers - they also have to be pleasing in appearance. Even an ounce of fat on one of your bodies is enough nowadays for the public to send in brickbats - and cause me to drop you from the side.
“What I now require of my players is that each and every one of you - those that elect to remain, anyway, will become live-in employees. During the season, you will have no time off at all. Every moment of your lives will be ordered by myself and my staff. You will be paid well for this restriction on your lives - but it will be total. Your meals, your sleeping time, your exercise regime and your training, indeed, every aspect of your lives will be controlled - and rigidly.
“Furthermore, those of you who elect to sign up for a season may expect to be disciplined - physically disciplined that is, when you do not live up to expectations. I shall be acquiring a number of canes and when you fail to achieve, Mr Cross has my full authorisation to cane your naked bottoms. I imagine the shame and humiliation of being publicly caned in front of your fellow team-mates, as well as the pain of the punishment, will have you on your toes ...
“At the conclusion of the season, you will have a couple of months off but then, if you renew your contracts, it will be ten more months of the same hard slog ...”
There were few dissenters. By now, well over a year into the new regime of naked sports, those players who had elected to stay in the game were inured to it and the monetary compensation made it, if not pleasant, at least acceptable. All bar one signed on the dotted line and within a week were housed in the hastily prepared dormitor
y next to the main training gymnasium under the stands.
They didn’t much like their new accommodations but the pay was very good ... There were twenty beds, if you can call them beds. They were made of wood and had no mattresses. The girls had to lie on them face up and raise their hands to the tops of the beds where they were locked into automatic cuffs fixed to the top corners.
“As I said, ladies, I demand total control over your bodies - and that includes sex. I don’t want your energies drained by masturbatory exercises at night. As to the hard slats, you are supposed to be athletes. Creature comforts will not add to your hardiness. The cold in this room and the hardness of the beds certainly will ...”
With that he watched as each girl reluctantly laid her naked body down on the cross slats and raised her hands up to the metal cuffs above her head. These closed automatically, snaring each girl onto the bed for the next eight hours. If necessity demanded it, they could call on their night supervisor to release them.
There were no other items of furniture in the long room. As Mr Hardwick said, “You will not be wearing clothes or adornments of any other kind on your bodies for the next eight months (it was already two months into the season) and you have no need of anything else since the bathroom next door already provides all you will need to keep your bodies in good shape.”
The corporal punishments were enthusiastically administered by Archie Cross, though the girls hated them. It wasn’t so much the pain although that was bad enough. It was the fact of being made to bend over and touch your toes, just like a nineteenth century schoolgirl, and then have your tail larruped by the well-muscled Mr Cross. The shame was horrible and then of course, you wore the evidence of it for a couple of days. It was effective, though, as Archie informed his employer. “They hate it Jim - but it works ...”
“And you enjoy dishing it out, no doubt?”
Archie had the grace to blush. “Er, yes, well it is a bit of a turn-on ... I have to admit.”
This regime lasted another five years. Most if not all other sports owners followed James Hardwick’s suit and locked their employees into similar contracts but then necessity forced James into another rethink.
The cost of these contracts was becoming burdensome. With the growing number of sports that now went totally naked, the TV stations had more to choose from and James’ London Tigers were now getting considerably less from the Association’s royalty fund than at first.
He made an appointment to see the governor of the former United Kingdom whom he knew slightly. He explained his dilemma and then went on. “Excellency, jails are costing the government a fortune ...”
The governor smiled, raised his eyebrows and nodded. “They are ... what is your point, James?”
“My point is that those billions could be wiped out of your budget in one foul swoop ...”
The governor was definitely interested now. “What did you have in mind?”
“Suppose that instead of committing a prisoner to jail, you sold the rights to punish them to individuals ... In my case, that would mean I would take the prisoner, train her to be a soccer star and use her for the term of her sentence, or if she became less than useful, sell her on to a factory or whatever ...
“In the case of men and women who were obviously not initially useful as sportsmen or women, they could be auctioned as labourers ... It would be our job to keep them secure of course and to punish them with rigorous labour during the term of their sentence.”
He sat back in the chair opposite the governor and regarded the world politician with a small smile on his face.
For his part, Governor Kennan was stunned but his quick mind had quickly grasped the possibilities and it was true that the penal system now seemed to be a bottomless pit into which treasury funds allocated to his subdivision seemed to be pouring with increasing rapidity. “Leave it with me, James. This needs careful consideration ...”
It may have but it didn’t get it. The subdivisional council was ecstatic about the idea, especially when a few judicious leaks had a public demanding that it be implemented without delay. And it was an overnight success. The jails were emptied over the next few months: a hundred here, another hundred there, being auctioned off to the general public. Within a few weeks the idea had caught on in every subdivision of the world ...
Of course they weren’t slaves. Not yet. There was one final stage to go before that happened but these criminals were already tantamount to slaves in that they now had far fewer rights than they had even as inmates of the penal system.
James simply informed his twenty-odd employees that at the conclusion of their current contracts, they were free to go - he had no further use for them. It was a disaster for them, especially as other sports entrepreneurs had quickly caught on to the possibilities and the chances of them finding paid work as sportswomen were now very slim.
The final stage of the transition to full and real slavery came about as a result of public pressure - and it was worldwide. By this time, you will have understood that the Earth was now ruled as a single entity.
The United Nations had evolved into a global government with regional governors-general overseeing continents and governors, running further subdivisions. These were changed annually to prevent a local ruler getting ideas of secession but with the massive technological changes to the communications system, the whole world knew what was happening everywhere else almost instantaneously.
Public demands to convert ‘prisoners’ into ‘slaves’ sprang from a source in London and many thought it was probably James Hardwick. It was but he wasn’t admitting it. The appeal to the public was that ‘slaves’ could be made to perform as ‘prisoners’ could not.
The necessary legislation was enacted at World Capital within two more months and slavery - official slavery, was born again ...
Debra Pellman had fallen on hard times. She had been the product of a closely controlled childhood and adolescence and had left home in rather acrimonious circumstances to make her own way in life. Alas, it hadn’t been all that easy. Jobs for untrained daughters of the former aristocracy were not all that plentiful and although she was very athletic, having won all her divisional events for Britain (as the former UK was now called), even that opportunity had now gone with the advent of the new system of sports slaves.
But pride would not let her return home and she had sunk to shoplifting for food and clothing. She had been caught, of course. Criminals didn’t have much success against the now highly technological advances of the World Police, but that didn’t stop them trying, which was why the British jails had been full to bursting and Governor Kennan had been racking his brains to try and find a practical and economic solution to the financial drain on his budget. Debra had even admitted to repeated offences, which was why she was arraigned before a judge and jury and not simply a magistrate
She stood now in the dock of the Old Bailey and faced an unsympathetic judge. “Miss Pellman, you have been found guilty of stealing. That you were hungry and needed the food is no excuse. You were eligible for unemployment relief but that your pride forbade you to apply for it is astonishing. You could have gone home to your loving parents but again your pride intervened.
“It is now time for you to be exposed in your new status. Remove her from the dock and place her in the body of the court!”
The bailiff moved up close to her and grasped her by her upper arm. “Come, Miss,” he said, not unkindly, leading her down the steps while she stared around her in horror. She was well aware of what was coming and she tried to avoid the looks on the faces of her parents, both of whom were outraged that the family name had been brought down so low by their ungrateful daughter.
It was summer in London and she had worn her best suit. It was a skirt of cream linen with a matching coat under which she wore only her bra, showing off a modest amount of the creamy skin of her upper chest an
d throat. She stood there now, waiting for the fateful words that were going to shame her beyond belief.
“Strip her for appraisal!” The judge’s face was slightly redder than it had been a few moments ago. So were those of the officers of the court, the barristers who had prosecuted and defended her, and the public in the gallery. Even the jury, those twelve men and women who were charged to deliver a true verdict, were watching her salaciously. Acquittals, especially of young and beautiful or handsome girls or boys (as the case may be) were very rare these days.
In truth, there wasn’t a man or woman in that court that wasn’t waiting with bated breath to see this beautiful eighteen-year-old girl stripped naked. None, not even her parents, had any sympathy for her. She’d had the means of avoiding this outcome but had chosen to steal rather than avail herself of them. Now she was going to pay.
Each man or woman there speculated on where and as what, she might end up. With that athletic figure, no doubt it would be as a sports slave, but many thought she would also make a good taxi pony ...
The bailiff nodded to the judge and began his task.
The judge had not said ‘undress her’. He had very clearly said ‘strip her’ and this was meant to be a definitive act that separated the old part of her life from her new one. Accordingly, while still holding her by her upper arm, he grasped the back of the collar of her suit coat with the other - and simply pulled, or rather jerked downwards. Buttons snapped and sprang off the smart garment that was then dragged down off her shoulders and arms.
She started to cry but the judge silenced her with a new threat. “Do you want a caning immediately after you have been stripped, girl?” he said sternly.
She subsided. She certainly did not want a caning. She had never had one in her life but she thought that was probably going to change now.
With her coat gone, her firm breasts, still supported by the half-cup bra she favoured, were partially exposed. So was her flat stomach and the athletic array of her abdominal muscles. Every man jack and woman in the courtroom stared in lust at the partially naked girl standing there below the judge.
