Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Haibane on 05-06-2012, 13:18:54</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>05-06-2012, 13:18:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><span class="bbc_u"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font">MILLENNIUM SLAVE LAW - MONACO - OFFICES OF LE BUREAU DE L'ADMINISTRATION DES FEMMES</span></span></span><br><br><br><br>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/BAFOffice1.jpg) (http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/BAFOffice2.jpg) (http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/BAFOffice3.jpg) (http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/BAFOffice4.jpg)<br><br><hr></div><br><br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/MonacoBAFOfficeMap.jpg)</div>The newly-established BAF office is sited in the old 16th century judiciary building. The courts and all their panapoly and functions have been moved to a wing of the small parliament building. The rate of crime in the principality was so minimal that the judiciary was almost a museum anyway. While the exterior of the building is famous from almost every tourist's holiday album, few have actually ventured inside and the place has remained largely unused apart from a small section that dealt with civic and civil issues in recent years. The interior therefore is very much based on 1950s and 1960s styling with a fair smattering of carved columns and ornate banisters. The main court room makes an excellent open space to be filled with clerks desks for the day to day admin work and there are a number of attorney's private suites that have been easily converted into offices for the senior staff. Julien Sabatier has secured the best of these, though even this is somewhat spartan with bare brick and stone walls contrasting simple minialist modern furniture.<br><br>One of the principal reasons the judiciary was used however, is because the basement levels contain the old cells and punishment rooms from when the building was a place of correction in the 1600s and 1700s. These facilities have been converted and updated to form the principal holding and training rooms for the public slaves that will be processed here.<br><br>Replumbing the building and especially rewiring it with a 2TB line to link it to other BAF offices, the internal intranet wiring and the necessary satellite uplinks had proven expensive, the building being listed as a significant architechtural monument and constructed of ancient stone. However the work was completed with a minimum of damage to the exterior and has now been functioning a few weeks.<br><br>The old 'help desk' style drop-in admin office of the BAF down near the marina at Ste Devote is still in place. More centrally sited for most visitors, it still serves a useful function of keeping most of the public out of the new Chef d'Administration's hair (what little he has left).
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millenium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackLightning</strong> on <strong>06-06-2012, 04:03:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/RyuujiAvatar.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Ryuuji Adam</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office, Registration department<br><strong>With:</strong> Mizuki Adam, (Possibly) Julien Sabatier<br><br>It was still quite an early morning when Ryuuji was standing in front of the BAF Office with his little sister next to him, naked and on all four. Though she is already collared and look just like any other slave, she doesn't belong to him, at least not officially... yet. She belonged to their father and he is here to change that, his father had gave him the message that she is to be his, after all. He paused for a few second as he looked at the building exterior, no matter how many times he looked at it, the building still looked magnificent to him. He walked through the door and followed the direction arrow pointing to the registration department, his sister following him fashionably behind still on all four as she tries to keep up with him. He had been there before of course and familiar with the procedure involved. There were differences between this one time and the previous times, however. One of them was that he wasn't holding a leash like when he is taking a slave from or to his store, he knew that his sister will not run away, she wants this as much as he does. The other difference is the excitement he is feeling, he had loved his sister and soon she would be his, it was hard for him to keep his excitement from showing just from that alone.<br><br>He reached the registration department and nearly sighed in relief when he saw that there were barely other people there to register a slave. That mean that he could finish his matter here faster and it was good in his book. He took a number from the machine and took down at one of the chair provided before gesturing for his sister to follow. He took a glance at his sister and resisted the desire to grab her right then and there, instead he contented himself as he thought to himself, 'Soon....'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MelisaArtemis</strong> on <strong>07-06-2012, 06:14:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/MizukiAvatar.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Mizuki Adam</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office, Registration department<br><strong>With:</strong> Ryuuji Adam<br><br>Probably for the first time in years, Mizuki had absolutely no problem waking up in the morning. Heck, she was nearly too excited to even fall asleep at the first place the night before. The reason was simple enough, in just a few moment, she would officially become her beloved brother's slave and as far as she was concerned, it was good enough reason to celebrate. It had been her dream to be one from the moment that she was old enough to learn her role once she was of age. Therefore, it was a very happy Mizuki who is walking behind her to-be master in the BAF office, butt naked bar her collar and on all four even though she wasn't ordered to do so, that is how much she is looking forward to her new role. Even the fact that some of the BAF officials in the office are shooting her confused look doesn't deter her happiness one bit, after all, its not everyday that you get to see a happy slave in their place. Even if they did ever saw one, the happiness that Mizuki is showing is still very rare sight to see since it is obvious from the glow in her eyes that she is not broken mentally but instead submit to her role out of her own will, now that is definitely a sigh to those who only ever see broken or nymphomaniac happy slaves. She follows her to-be master toward the registration department until he takes a seat at one of the chair. Without a word, she followed him only stopping next to his feet and fold her legs under her into a demure straight back sitting position before leaning slightly on his feet so that the side of her head touched his knee as she close her eyes for moment and purr softly in contentment not unlike a pet kitten. <br><br>She opened her eyes when she felt her master nudge her slightly, signalling her to follow him once again toward one of the private office. Once inside, the officer took detail measurement of her physique, from her height, weight, hips, waist, breasts to whether or not she is a virgin. All that while still in the presence of her brother to ensure that the officer didn't try to violate her behind his back, it was unproven but rumor did exist that some masters complaining that they were robbed from the opportunity of taking their slave's virginity by the officers doing the inspection of their slaves. The officer input all the data he acquired from her into the his terminal before finally scanning her collar to get her identification details and confirm the changes made in her data.<br><br>The whole process of changing her registration took a full half an hour before she and her new master came out of the office and she felt happier than she ever was in any point of her life. She was finally his and for the life of her, she couldn't imagine being anything else even if she tried. Yes, she is a slave, a pet for her master to use as he see fit and she's proud of it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackLightning</strong> on <strong>07-06-2012, 09:28:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/RyuujiAvatar.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Ryuuji Adam</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office<br><strong>With:</strong> Mizuki Adam<br><br>If anyone who knows him were to see Ryuuji right now, they would probably think they were hallucinating. Reasonably so since the young man is actually smiling, it was barely a tuck on the edge of his lips but if was there nonetheless if anyone bothers to actually looks close enough. Why shouldn't he? His sweet sister had finally become his legally and noone would ever going to have the chance to take her from his hand no matter what their offer, she wasn't for sale, not now, not ever. As the pair reach outside the BAF office, part of him wanted to take his slave home and had his way on her as soon as possible but he knew it was not be, his watch showed him that it was time for him to get to his office and prepare to open the store. <br><br>As a division manager of the company, his presence in the store was a must just in case any of their customer wish to strike a bargain with him, which usually happened because the customer was interested in buying one of his "Corporate Slaves". Quite reasonable request since he only pick the best from his supplies to fill in that position, from their looks down to how they interact with other people and how mentally broken they are, afterall a shop assistant who keep approaching the customer for sex is not a good one. Finally he unlocked the door to his Black Subaru Imprezza WRX STi and gesture Mizuki to get into the car's passenger seat which she promptly followed. Minutes later, the pair were on the way to the department store.<br><br>[Moving to the Store "Emperium" Thread]
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Urbanzorro</strong> on <strong>10-06-2012, 08:31:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/JulienAvatar.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Julien </span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office<br><strong>With:</strong> His thoughts.<br><br>Julien was seated at hisdesk in <em>his</em> personal office, the thought of which was still quite new and had yet to lose it's novelty. On his desk sat several different files which he had requested. Each one open to q different page. As he tried to scan each at the same time. <br><br>Normally this wouldn't have been too hard of a task. But today's morning hadn't been a strictly normal situation. Soon enough mornings like&nbsp; this morning would be normal ones; but like his office, the day's events still held a formidable amount of novelty. And it was this novelty that was making it so hard to concentrate on his job. His mind continuously focused on the 'family time' he'd had with Karin, who was at this very moment undergoing her BAF registration. This thought was enough to cause his mind to refocus on his recent memories. And as the images flooded his head he made no effort to stop them.<br><br><hr><br>It had been a beautiful morning when he had awoken. And he had spent at least a few minutes simply enjoying beautiful view of the sunrise that his apparment offered him. That is until a stirring in his loins brought his attention to more physical ways to enjoy the early morning. Clad in nothing more than his undershorts Julien calmly made his way to his daughter's room. <br><br>Once there he opened her door without so much as a knock. In part to begin things by impressing her new lack of any kind of freedom upon her, and in part because he simply wanted to catch her unawares. "Wake up"'he said firmly as he opened the door, the words out of his mouth before he'd even entered the room. <br><br><br><br><br>&nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Swordsman18</strong> on <strong>11-06-2012, 03:39:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/DavidAvatar.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">David Cornell</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> Hotel Ambassador -&gt; BAF Office<br><strong>With:</strong> Whoever is here?<br><hr><br>His breakfast did not take all that long till he was once more on the move, heading out to go deal with the problem of finding his daughter. His first task was to go to the BAF for if she was enslaved, she would have a collar that they could track. And though there was going to be a bit of an issue with getting access to the location system, the proof that he was her father was going to go a long way. David had heard of people pretending to be the fathers of other slaves in order to free them or even to traffic them to other markets. However if they tested his DNA compared to the one that they had on file from her they would get a match. If they didn't then he could just go home and this would be something that he needn't deal with. All she would be is another girl with a sad story in the grand scheme of things.<br><br>He caught a cab and then arrived at the BAF office where he walked into the office and then told the receptionist his story hoping that they could give him some kind of information or some record of legal action that he could take to find and keep his daughter safe.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>13-06-2012, 11:31:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://jeansnow.net/tokyoboy/071104-jeansnow-suit.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">MAURICE REPIGNAN</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> Front reception desk<br><strong>With:</strong> David Cornell<br><br>It had been an unremarkable morning so far on the public desk at the BAF; a couple of tourists coming in and wanting some information; two gentlemen who had queries about flogging their slaves in public; <strong>"That is fine,"</strong> Maurice had assured them, <strong>"Just please don't let their screams disturb others and so please consider using a gag"</strong>; another old man who wanted to know about sex in public. Maurice had smiled and delivered the exact same answer; <strong>"That is fine, just please don't let her screams disturb others so please consider using a gag."</strong><br><br>Finally a young rich playboy type who wanted to go to Milan on business and needed his slaves boundaries adjusting. A fee was paid and the man departed, his puppy-dog crawling beside him, her 'tail' swishing cutely and the moist peach of her sex giving off that undeniable bitch-in-heat smell.<br><br>Maurice Repignan just had time to slip away from the desk to the staff lounge and fix himself a quick coffee and scan the latest copy of <em>"What Cunt?"</em> magazine for ten minutes before returning to his place at the reception desk. Then a very tall, well-built, dark-haired man came in. He spoke English and was clearly American but Maurice was multi-lingual, it was one of the job requirements for working in Monaco. He spoke and wrote French, Italian, English and enough of a smattering of German and Spanish to help customers.<br><br>The man's case was unusual though. Often with these CMR-having-lost-a-female issues, the loss was quite recent and was commonly the result of a theft of property. Maurice had worked in the Nice BFA office until a month ago and had then applied to work at the new office being set up here because his commute was so much shorter. It was still a thirty minute train ride each way but the perks in pay for the Monaco weighting on his salary made up for it. In Nice the illegal adbuction problem was severe and they had recently begun introducing CMR DNA swabs so that the person claiming the young woman was his daughter, or niece, or sister was who he said he was.<br><br>Maurice was therefore familiar with DNA testing and he smiled at the big American, folding his hands together on the reception counter, the fingers laced togeher into a single ball.<br><br><strong>"No problem at all Sir. What I will need to do is take some details from you. I take it you have no photo of the young woman? No? No, of course not. My apologies! Hn, let's see now..."</strong><br><br>The bespectacled clerk smiled again and turned to his desk computer, pivoting the flat screen around so the customer could see the data logging process and wouldn't feel excluded as he might if the clerk hid behind his screen, tapping away. The screen was all in French however so it may not have been that helpful a gesture in the American's case.<br><br>Wihin ten minutes all the relevant details David Cornell could give were in the system and Maurice Repignan had even taken a confirmatory look at the American's passport, scanning in the photo and address page.<br><br><strong>"What we shall do, Monsieur Cornell, is take a small swab of saliva and send that off for processing. It takes about forty-eight hours and we can contact you at your hotel or you can return here and ask for me, Maurice Repignan - here is my card, Monsieur. Now if you would please, just take a wipe on the gums on the outside of your lower teeth with this."</strong><br><br>The clerk slid a pair of clear plastic gloves on so that no oils from his own skin would get on the sample and offered David a cotton bud with which to get wet with saliva. He then popped it swiftly away in a glass vial, sealing the cap and printing off an adhesive label from his computer which carried David's necessary information. Maurice handed the vial to a passing colleague who went away through a door to a rear area of the office.<br><br><strong>"I do hope we can help you find your missing cunt, Sir. Is there anything else I can help you with?"</strong><br><br>Maurice pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled. It was a shame he acted and looked so gay, but he wasn't. Or at least that is what he insisted to all his friends and colleagues.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Swordsman18</strong> on <strong>16-06-2012, 09:01:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/DavidAvatar.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">David Cornell</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office -&gt; Emperium Entrance<br><strong>With:</strong> Whoever is here?<br><hr><br>Cunt, he had always hated the tern even after it came to be commonly used for the usage of slavery, so he kind of cringed when the man said the term in relation to his daughter. All he did was force a smile at the man. "No, that is all. I shall see you in two days." David walked out of the office to head into the city where he looked down at his phone and pressed a button on it. "Siri, where is the closest slave market?" The phone dinged as it processed his response. "The closest slave market according to reviews is the Emperium, would you like directions, Sir?" A computer voice responded, he smiled at the phone. "Yes, Siri." A little loading screen popped up before his directions were displayed.<br><br>"Here you go, Sir." The voice responded to the man once more and then responded to her by saying, "Thank you, Siri." David plugged in his headphones and began the walk over to the Emperium. This city was quite beautiful and he was reminded of the time when he had met Tillie's mother in Paris and what a beautiful city that was as well. All of the people out on the street seemed to have money or had come from money in some form, or they were slaves. At this point, slaves had become much like the homeless to his vision, it was much like they did not exist at all. Ones here were not so easily blocked from his stream of consciousness as the ones back home were usually more casual or more objectified.<br><br>Most of the ones here, though obviously objects were made to be better wearing the finest clothes money could buy, appearing to be nearly perfectly graceful and not having an ounce of makeup out of place. David understood why they were made to be this way but still it just felt wrong. Objectification was taken to new heights, for in the eyes of the law these women were objects, but for the rich they were far more than that, they were much like the sport and classy cars of old. Having a slave that was more graceful, more beautiful, more desirable than your peers showed that you had made it&nbsp; and that you were in turn better than them. Bosses of companies likely strove to get better slaves than their employees and their competitors just as a sign of status. Taking away someone's freedom at the cost of status was not something that David felt that he could accept but with the powers at be in society, he had no choice but to at the very least tolerate it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vin26m</strong> on <strong>27-06-2012, 02:41:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/82/Constant_Leconte_5.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Constant Leconte</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office<br><strong>With:</strong> Karin Leconte, his daughter<br><br>This morning had been something I'd been looking forward to for so long.&nbsp; <br><br>Three marriages, two divorces and ten years ago my one and only child, my beautiful daughter, Karin, heard that the Compulsory Female Slave Law was passed, and it was an announcement that would change her life, as well as mine, forever.&nbsp; Months later, at the age of 42, I divorced her 26 year old mother.&nbsp; She was no longer the pleasant piece of ass that Karin was turning into, but she was cunt number 1.&nbsp; <br><br>I violated cunt number 1 in so many ways.&nbsp; I tied her down, then fucked her throat and cunt and asshole for as long and as hard as I wanted (which was hours at a time, almost every day, thanks to Viagra and Cialis), no matter how much she cried and begged me to stop.<br><br>I invited my co-workers to have a go at her also.&nbsp; We took turns making her fat ass and saggy tits jiggle.&nbsp; After a while, we didn't feel like waiting, so we double- and triple-teamed her.&nbsp; The next trio of co-workers was using her too.&nbsp; Each of her nice soft manicured hands and the gap between her tits had a cock in it while we plowed her fuckholes at the same time.<br><br>I sold her off for a bargain and immediately put all the money my ex-wife earned me into buying a newer, younger, fresher upgrade from Paris.<br><br>Cunt number 2, also known as Slut-mother, was the perfect role model for Karin.&nbsp; The techniques I practiced on Cunt 1 were perfected on Cunt 2.&nbsp; I mixed up my use of force with bondage, whipping and verbal abuse.&nbsp; I used to stuff Slut-Mother with a big dinner, then stick a butt plug up her ass followed by an oral administration of Venus and Balance.&nbsp; The horny bitch begged me to pound her back passage while her rectum was full of ass juice.&nbsp; With each thrust, the white lube enema squirted out between my cock and her anal ring.&nbsp; She cleaned up every drop, though, using just her tongue.<br><br>What was I talking about?&nbsp; Not those two cunts, whose real names I can't even remember.&nbsp; Karin.&nbsp; I will always remember Karin.&nbsp; She is the fruit of my loins, and will soon be the target of my cock and balls.<br><br>Today was the day of my daughter's 18th birthday.&nbsp; I woke up with morning wood and popped a Viagra anyway.&nbsp; This particular pill ensured high volume ejaculation, perfect for painting a cunt like Karin white with jizz.&nbsp; I just wanted to give Karin a birthday both of us would never forget.<br><br>I pulled the sheets off her almost naked beautiful body, like I was unwrapping a present, a birthday present, a present to <em>me</em> even though it was <em>her</em> 18th birthday.&nbsp; <br><br>She got out of bed and showed herself to me.&nbsp; No wonder she got such good grades in her slave-ed classes.&nbsp; She knew just what to do without me having to tell her.&nbsp; She presented her big, perky titties so proudly and deservedly so.&nbsp; I just wanted to cup them in my hands and squeeze them and lean in and nibble and suck them.<br><br>There would be plenty of time for that later.&nbsp; I waited this long.&nbsp; I can wait a little longer.<br><br>I made her take off her panties, the last line of defense on her body.&nbsp; She did it immediately, but did it so well.&nbsp; She turned around to show me her ass, bent over at the waist with her back arched, rubbed her hands over her bottom, dug her thumbs into the waistband, then shimmied her hips side to side as she let those panties slide down her smooth legs and bunch up between her ankles.&nbsp; She stepped out of them, turned to face me again, and resumed her position of pushing her tits out to me.<br><br>I looked at her from head to toe repeatedly, from her pretty face to her perfect bountiful breasts to her narrow waist to those wide hips to that bald cunt between her legs.&nbsp; I was happy, so happy.&nbsp; And she was happy I was happy.&nbsp; This was so much better than the old days with the ex-wives and former slaves.<br><br>I broke it down for her, telling her she was mine to do as I wished, that I owned her, that she was my property.&nbsp; I asked her if she was ready to serve me, to do everything I demanded.&nbsp; We started making rules.&nbsp; <br><br>Rule number 1.&nbsp; She will call me Master.&nbsp; With a capital "M."<br><br>Rule number 2.&nbsp; I will call her cunt.&nbsp; With a lower case "c."<br><br>Rule number 3.&nbsp; She will shower me in the morning.<br><br>I undid my robe and let it drop to the floor.&nbsp; Then I pulled down my boxers and stood naked before her.&nbsp; There we were.&nbsp; Father and daughter.&nbsp; Master and slave.&nbsp; Cock and cunt.&nbsp; Most of the time I saw Karin, she was naked, but I never stopped savoring the sight of her.&nbsp; Sometimes she saw me naked, too, usually plowing my previous slut from behind while I had her bent over some piece of furniture or another.&nbsp; I thought about Karin while I rutted that cunt.&nbsp; I wondered if Karin thought about being the one stuffed with my cock.&nbsp; The idea made my manhood twitch and ooze pre-cum.<br><br>We stepped into the large shower stall.&nbsp; Jets hit us from all directions, and her body glistened with water.&nbsp; She took the wand and rinsed me down.&nbsp; She must have been trained for this, or imagined doing this, or both.&nbsp; The shower wand felt a lot better when it was wielded by someone else.&nbsp; I had her wash me all over.&nbsp; She started with the sea sponge full of shower gel, but I batted it away after a while.&nbsp; I had her use her hands on me instead - it was about time that she got used to touching me as well as seeing me.&nbsp; Then I squirted showergel all over her tits and ass.&nbsp; I had her rub her sudsy body against mine.&nbsp; Her tits pressed against my back and chest, her ass against my thighs and backside.&nbsp; I didn't say much except the occasional subdued groan of approval.&nbsp; I was more than pleased, but I preferred to keep her wondering.<br><br>I found a way to get my cock clean.&nbsp; I soaped up her inner thighs and put my dick between them from behind.&nbsp; I pushed her knees together and thigh fucked her, grabbing her tits and squeezing her ass the whole time.<br><br>To finish me off, I had her get down on her knees to use her hands on my cock and balls.&nbsp; Her grip and pace were just right, like she knew what I wanted before I wanted it.&nbsp; I thought for sure I would ejaculate all over her, but I felt so hard that it was going to take more than a handjob by a pretty cunt to make me lose control.&nbsp; No, I planned on waiting it out until tonight.<br><br><hr><br>Hours later, I was still hard as I walked to work, my pants tenting, but what did I care?&nbsp; I was old, I was in charge of the local BAF office, and I didn't care.&nbsp; Besides, no one was looking at my crotch, anyway; they were looking at my daughter.&nbsp; Karin was technically not yet my slave, but that didn't stop me from putting a collar around her neck, attaching a leash to the collar, and walking her naked body down the streets.&nbsp; She positively glowed in the sunlight, and I noticed how she caught the eyes of every man and cunt along the way.&nbsp; I paraded her proudly.&nbsp; Every owner wanted to fuck Karin, and every cunt wanted to be Karin.<br><br>At the office, I walked by the clerk at the front reception desk, Maurice Repignan.&nbsp; I bid him a good morning in French, letting him get an eyeful of Karin.&nbsp; Then I passed the office of my top investigator, Julien Sabatier, and allowed him to get a glimpse of my daughter, too.&nbsp; <br><br>I took Karin to the one inspector that was there.&nbsp; I don't remember his name, but everyone called him "Sumo" because he was so fat that his eyes looked Asian.&nbsp; He was an obese, rather sad fellow, but he always did good work.&nbsp; I handed him the leash and I think he almost orgasmed right there.&nbsp; I ordered him to register Karin and reminded him that she was to remain <em>unpenetrated</em> (not that he could find his dick under all those layers of blubber anyway).&nbsp; He smiled in gratitude as his shaky hand and sausage fingers took the leash and he led Karin into the lift.&nbsp; As the doors closed I rolled my eyes and shook my head.&nbsp; I sat in my office and went through some paperwork, paying close attention to the inventory of cunts in the holding cells and the various stages of training and indoctrination they had experienced under my hand.<br><br><br><br>(Edit: changed pic link)
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>27-06-2012, 13:39:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/KarinAvatar_04.jpg)<br><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font">KARIN LECONTE</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> At home/BAF office registration suite<br><strong>With:</strong> Master/Alone with some NPC BAF employees<br><br>This morning had been something I’d been looking forward to for so long! Today I turned eighteen and papa had promised me I’d become his slave today, something I was looking to enjoy very much. Of course my education had prepared me well for today, teaching me all about how beautiful a slave must be and how happy she is to serve her master and all the ways she can delight in serving him… like doing his washing and cooking his meals and buying his shopping and cleaning his home! All of this I was pleased to be able to finally do!<br><br>When I had heard his voice cut through my sleep with a loud, “wake up,” and a wash of cool air as he pulled the sheets off my sleeping body, I did so instantly, being wide awake at once. Grinning I bounced out of bed, quite naked apart from a little white pair of bikini panties. I stood before him, hands behind my back, shoulders back, chest pushed out like school had taught me, chin up.<br><br>“You will always offer your body to your Master,” the teachers had taught, “It belongs to him, not you. Your tits especially, thrust them out so he hardly need reach forwards to touch and enjoy them. Arch your back, pull your bottom in and present them, like gifts.”<br><br>I saw him looking at my bare tits. That is the word I used for them, the word we were taught at school. We were told it was crude and vulgar but that was how slaves should think. A Free Woman had breasts, a slave had tits.<br><br>I knew my tits were beautiful – large and firm with nipples that stuck proudly up - and that I had been successful in working hard to make my body acceptable for this day. It had been years of hard work, dieting and exercising and undergoing all the treatments. The long hours with the suction cups pumping at my nipples to thicken and extend them, the various series of drug injections to make them more sensitive, to make my tits carry milk as well, all these things had been my duty to have done. I confess I had found them exciting too, arousing! My stubby nipples lay soft and part-risen in the warm sunny room.<br><br><strong><em>“Take those off,”</em></strong> he had said, pointing to my underwear and I had immediately done so. I had often been naked around the house in the last couple of years and the last slut-wife father had had was usually naked too so it was no concern to me that father wanted me completely bare. Naked, I turned and stood straight again, tits presented, legs a little parted like the diagram posters at school had shown. Papa stared at my smooth hairless cunt, clearly pleased with my body. I beamed inwardly, happy that he enjoyed looking at me, happy that my cunt was beautiful and I was lucky enough to have tidy trim lips.<br><br>That is another word we were taught to use. Cunt. So crude and dirty, but it was what we had. Free Women did not.<br><br>“You will have cunts when you become slaves,” is what our Slave-Ed teachers had taught us. “Not sexes or vaginas or pussies… <em>cunts</em>. As slaves, you’ll be cunts too, so fix that word in your minds and be proud of it!” The teacher had had one girl bent backwards over her desk, stripped and with her legs forced wide open, so all of us could see her cunt. She was sixteen and the teacher had shaved her in front of us all. She looked beautiful, all pink and soft and spread apart. I wanted a cunt like that. I remembered that day well.<br><br>I came back to the present. Papa was speaking again.<br><br><strong><em>“Starting today, I own you. You’re my daughter, but more than that, you’re now my property. You’re ready to serve aren’t you? To do everything your father demands?”</em></strong><br><br><strong>“Yes, papa!”</strong> I said brightly.<br><br><strong><em>“Good. And you no longer call me that. It is ‘Master’ from now on and in your head it always has a capital ‘M’.”</em></strong><br><br><strong>“Yes, Master!”</strong> That was easy and it excited me to use such a word. It made him more powerful and me more submissive. I felt a little tingle of pleasure at using the word; school had prepared me well.<br><br><strong><em>“I am going to call you cunt.”</em></strong><br><br><strong>“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.”</strong> I adored the name. It was right that I should be called that. Such a crude dirty name was a sign Master – my own papa – was taking the right approach with his new property so I didn’t mind the name at all. I knew he was free to refer to me in any way he wished. I knew it was a crude word but I also knew that he loved me regardless and if it made him happy to call his slave-daughter a crude name, then I was happy too.<br><br><strong><em>“To the bathroom. We will start with you showering me.”</em></strong><br><br>I followed silently, wrists crossed in the small of my back, bare feet making no noise and in the bathroom of our new apartment I was pleased to give him my first service. I had hoped perhaps for a kiss on my birthday but this was just as nice in a different way.<br><br>He removed his underwear and we both stepped into the large walk-in shower room, big enough for more than just the two of us. I took the shower wand from its hook and ran the water to a pleasantly warm temperature, then began to rinse his body. I had seen pa- I mean Master, naked before too, many times, usually when he mounted the old slut-wife he had and took his pleasure from her, sometimes she would be bent over the kitchen worksurface of our old house in Nice and he’d just use her from behind whenever he wished. He owned her after all. It was what slut-wives were for.<br><br>I put the shower wand back and soaped up the big squishy sea-sponge with shower gel and began to rub his body down, chest, shoulders, back – though Master was growing old he was still fit and healthy and exercised often. His shoulders were still wide and powerful. I wanted to ask if I was doing it right but I’d been taught to remain silent unless spoken too so I thought that if he wanted me to do any different, he’d say so…<br><br>Without a word he had pulled the sponge from my hands and thrown it down and ordered me to use my hands on him. I had never done this before but our teachers had said our owners would demand such service. I happily lathered up his body and ran my hands everywhere over his warm firm skin, down his back to his rear, around his hips, down his thighs.<br><br>Pa- I mean master was erect and while I’ve seen his cock so often as he ploughed the slut-wife I had never seen it hard when I was the only one with him. It was meaty and long, longer than the plastic toys we had been trained on, to aid us in suppressing our gag reflexes, and thicker too.<br><br>Master turned around and squirted my chest with shower gel, telling me to now wash him without using my hands. I was surprised and a little shocked; we were already getting into the duties a slut-wife should cover, but I was owned by Master and didn’t hesitate at all, beyond a small flicker of my eyes, to push up against his chest with my own and softly and slowly begin to use my tits as a sponge.<br>As I pushed against his chest I looked up at him sweetly and smiled, doing my utmost to make the shower enjoyable for him. I could feel his cock hard and pushing at my belly, and between my thighs. I knew we were father and daughter so should not do sex but I was getting excited. My body had been trained and designed for this response and I knew it was normal for a slave to get horny when she served her master physically so I let the exciting feelings grow. It was just a little wrong that my own papa should make my body react this way.<br><br>Master groaned now and again as I washed him everywhere, holding my arms carefully behind me when I used my tits on him and in front of me when I balled my behind into his crotch and rubbed against his cock, feeling it slide between my cheeks and make me feel very confused.<br><br>He didn’t want my hands to soap his cock but bent me forwards, soaped my thighs and slid his cock between them, doing a fucking motion between my legs. He was hot and hard and by the tie he finished I was feeling very wet. <br><br>Then he wanted me to kneel before him and use my hands and this I was familiar with. Smiling up at him in delight I made sure every centimetre of him was clean, though the fluids of his excitement kept leaking out of him. To rinse off I pulled his foreskin back hard and ran the hot shower spray over the exposed head and underneath up at this cleft where I have been taught a man is very sensitive.<br>From the noises Master made I know my teachers were right.<br><br><hr><br>That had been a couple of hours ago. Now it was now and we had walked to Master’s new office through the sunny streets. That walk in itself was a shock and an adventure. My first time bare outdoors in public. I will recount that later. I was so lucky in that where Master worked was also where I would be registered and receive my collar.<br><br>Master had led me on a leash attached to a plain leather collar around my neck. It was the first I had ever worn although we had experienced the feel of the tighter slave chokers when we’d had the nice BAF man visit us in school.<br><br>At the office Master had gone upstairs and given the leash to another man, round and fat and sweaty, telling him to carry out my registration then return me – <em>unpenetrated</em> – to him when I was done. My Master was the fat sweaty man’s boss so I knew he’d be obedient. I was taken down in a lift to a basement level and the moment Master was out of sight the sweaty man grinned at me in a wicked way and put his hands on me, fondling my breasts and bottom. My conditioning kicked in and I didn’t resist, but raised my arms to place my hands behind my head, the fingers laced together, so that the fat man could touch all the places he’d want to more easily. He stank and was really gross but he was a man and I was a slave so I couldn’t object to him touching. My mind wanted him to touch, it was conditioned to. He crushed my soft tits in his strong meaty hands making me gasp in pain and his pudgy moist fingers felt between my cheeks to finger my back door. I bent forwards at once and parted my legs because that was what I was taught to do. He sniggered and made some crude joke about being well-trained already and his finger played at my rear entrance but didn’t push in.<br><br>The lift stopped and with my hands still clasped behind my head I was led down a corridor to the Certification Room, my white high heels, the only things I had worn in my walk from home, clicking loudly on the stone floor.<br><br>We walked past other workers, men in white coats with digital tablets and the beefy training staff in their black security overalls with the circled gold BAF logo on the breast, many of them stopping to glance at me as I went past, their eyes devouring my bare body. My dampness, which had not fully subsided after this morning’s shower, now returned when their hot gazes met mine. Lewd comments fell in the air behind me and I gave the watching men an extra wiggle of my behind. Someone applauded, several laughed. An anonymous hand spanked my bottom. I loved the men’s attention, it was a sign I was a beautiful slave.<br><br>We reached a door and the fat man opened it, leading me in. We entered a white tiled clinically bright room. A desk and computer were to one side with a rack of bookshelves behind and some cabinets and in the main part of the room it looked like a gymnasium with a treadmill, a rowing machine, a set of weights, a padded floor mat.<br><br>At the desk sat a thin spotty, weaselly man who looked about forty. While the first man was round and sweaty the second was stick-thin and greasy. Did the Bureau choose the most repugnant men to deal with registrations? Was this the only time such low-class workers ever got their hands on a pretty girl?<br><br><strong><em>“Ah, here she is! We thought you would be in this week. Happy birthday my dearie. Your eighteenth is going to be a busy-busy day for you, my pretty little cunt! And yes…! What a pretty cunt you have too. My word dear papa is going to have fun with you. So… well, you’ll have some idea of what we need you to do today so let’s get started. Stand there~”</em></strong> By pointing with the cap-end of his pen, the greasy man indicated a space in front of his desk.<br><br>I moved instantly to the place indicated and presented my body for him, arms still raised, ankles two feet apart, chest thrust forwards. The greasy thin man stared at me over the top of his spectacles. His face went deadly serious.<br><br><strong><em>“Yes. Quite the beauty. You’re very lucky my pretty cunt. I can see a high DMV here right away. So… let’s begin. Name? date of birth? Address?...”</em></strong><br><br>He began by taking down all my usual details. As I spoke my answers the fat sweaty man came up behind me and put his hands around me to stroke my stomach and then lifted his hands to cup and squeeze my breasts. Despite how gross he was I melted into his touch, my voice becoming breathy and hoarse as I answered the long string of questions.<br><br>A third man was in the room, a younger man in a white coat with a long hooked nose who seemed to be a technician in charge of a movie camera on a tripod. He wandered casually over and cupped a hand over my soft cunt, fondling the bulge of my sex and rubbing a finger against my slit. I had to answer the questions while being groped and teased and abused and very soon I was panting and wet, my body conditioned by years of training to respond to such attentions.<br><br>In school certain practical lessons had us cleaning the blackboard or the windows or washing the floors or tidying the stationery cupboard while two or three boys from the master-ed curriculum came in and groped us. We had to give the proper response which was to get sexually aroused but not stop for a second doing the work we’d been given. We would be naked of course and a group of masters would sit and observe our technique and grade us on how efficiently we worked and how wet we became. Many of us had to repeat such lessons dozens of times before our response was considered acceptable. Being pleasured and groped by random men while I had to respond to questions was therefore easy.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vin26m</strong> on <strong>28-06-2012, 17:31:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/82/Constant_Leconte_5.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Constant Leconte</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office, in his office<br><strong>With:</strong> Karin Leconte, his daughter;<br><br>After the lift went down to the cellar with Sumo...&nbsp; Grégoire!&nbsp; That's the fat man's name!... Grégoire and my daughter... my slave... my cunt... After they went down, I walked up a couple of flights to my own office.&nbsp; <br><br>I found the BAF office to be a beautiful building.&nbsp; Although the structure was centuries old, the interior was characterized by a style that was popular around the time I was born.&nbsp; The city-state's low crime rate made the building's judiciary function moot, and it was just recently converted from a courthouse into the BAF office.<br><br>I still felt fit and spry for my age, thanks to working out regularly once I realized that I was going to take Karin as my personal fucktoy, rapedoll and painslut.&nbsp; Just as the building was repurposed for the administration of slaves, my own body was reinvigorated to take complete advantage of a slave... one that was approximately one third my age.<br><br>Walking up the stairs was easy for me, and I usually did not bother using the elevator to go to a higher floor.&nbsp; I strolled down the silent hallway, the heels of my dress shoes clicking against the marble floor.&nbsp; Today was going to be a good day.<br><br>My secretary, a slave owned by the BAF but not a public slave, was already there waiting for me, sitting behind her desk.&nbsp; The smell of fresh brewed coffee was in the air.&nbsp; She greeted me with a smile and a compliment and we made some small talk.&nbsp; I had other things on my mind, and entered my office.<br><br>I perused the printed list of appointments and went over the list of slaves we had in inventory on the computer.&nbsp; Still, my thoughts gradually went to what else happened that morning at home...<br><br><hr><br><strong>"Awww!</strong>&nbsp; I could no longer contain my excitement and moaned as Karin tugged back my foreskin and aimed the wand right at the sensitive underside just below my glans.&nbsp; I reached out to one of the walls of the shower for balance with one hand as my other hand grabbed her wrist and pulled the wand away.&nbsp; I took a deep breath and smiled for just a moment.&nbsp; I almost came.&nbsp; Almost.<br><br><strong>"That's enough of that, <em>cunt</em>.&nbsp; Now it's <em>your</em> turn to get clean."</strong><br><br>I took a towel and wrapped it around my waist, then stepped out of the shower stall and sat on a stool.&nbsp; I leaned against the sink and crossed my legs like an American, with my ankle on my knee.&nbsp; Usually I sat like a European gentleman, but the erection my cunt of a daughter triggered in me made that difficult.&nbsp; I was still very hard and my cock tented the towel.<br><br><strong>"Go on, use your hands and get those <em>tits</em> extra soapy.&nbsp; If you do a good job, <em>maybe</em> I will let you even <em>cuddle</em> with me.&nbsp; Maybe."</strong><br><br>Karin was always so eager to please, and she seemed to enjoy lots of attention, including affection.&nbsp; I lifted up my arms and locked my fingers behind my head, allowing me to watch her as I lay back leisurely.&nbsp; She had a nice lather going, and eventually it looked like she was wearing a bikini top of white bubbles.<br><br><strong>"Now... <em>rinse</em> off those <em>tits</em>...&nbsp; And do it <em>slowly</em>.&nbsp; Then lather them up again.&nbsp; I want you <em>extra</em> clean for your registration today.&nbsp; Your bre... tits... your tits will be measured and tested <em>thoroughly</em>.&nbsp; Today of all day's those <em>tits</em> should be perfect, don't you agree,... <em>cunt</em>?"</strong><br><br>Tits.&nbsp; Cunt.&nbsp; For some reason, those words really seemed to resonate with her, more so, I think, because it was I, her father and master, saying them to her, my daughter and slave.&nbsp; Not only was I going to say those words, I was going to <em>emphasize</em> them, just to give her an extra jolt of pleasure.&nbsp; Those slave-ed classes I helped design seemed to be really working in her case.<br><br>I figured she might be lost in the sensations of the experience I was making her go through.&nbsp; A nod of the head or a simple yes or even "Yes, Master," would not suffice.&nbsp; I would correct her until she told me what I wanted to hear, something along the lines of "Yes, these tits should be perfect today, Master."<br><br>It was a beautiful sight, seeing her rub her soapy hands over her big breasts, watching the suds wash down her flawless, smooth skin in a sort of striptease that revealed her glistening body.&nbsp; I was reminded of the directions on shampoo bottles - lather, rinse, repeat.<br><br><strong>"Okay... <em>cunt</em>, your... <em>tits</em> are clean and it is time to move on.&nbsp; Turn around and do the same... except for your <em>ass</em>."</strong><br><br>My eyes stayed focused on her as she changed direction from facing toward me to facing away from me.&nbsp; She presented her rump.&nbsp; Again she was alternating between lathering and rinsing, lathering and rinsing.&nbsp; I was tempted to have her do more, but if I allowed her proceed I would have to start stroking myself in front of her.&nbsp; And I did not want that to happen... yet.<br><br>"<em>Good cunt.</em>&nbsp; Now rinse yourself off from head to toe, dry yourself off, and get your ass out here."<br><br>I waited for her to pat herself dry.&nbsp; I looked between her legs, seeing how her cunt was reacting to all the things I was having her do.&nbsp; <br><br>As she dried me off, I brushed my teeth looking at her reflection in the mirror.&nbsp; I considered having her brush my teeth for me the way I had her clean me in the shower, but brushing my teeth was something I would do myself.&nbsp; To have someone else brush my teeth would make me feel older than I was, or childish, or like an animal.&nbsp; Those thoughts made me want to brush <em>her</em> teeth, which I did.&nbsp; <br><br>With one hand holding her hair to tilt her head and hold it still, my other hand ran the bristles of her toothbrush along her gums and teeth and tongue.&nbsp; I let the transformed toothpaste build up and enjoyed the sight of that white creamy substance in her mouth.&nbsp; I even held the cup of water to her those full lips of hers, letting her sip the clear liquid.&nbsp; I pulled the cup away so she could move the water around inside her mouth, then guided her head over the sink with my grip in her hair so she could spit.<br><br><strong>"You may dress me soon, but since you're now such a clean cunt, I will give you some cuddle time.&nbsp; Go on, get in my bed."</strong><br><br>I watched her lie back on my king-sized bed.&nbsp; I was the only one who ever slept in it.&nbsp; When I was done with one of my previous fuck-slaves, I always kicked them out of my bed to sleep in their cage or on the floor.&nbsp; But here I was, actually inviting Karin in.<br><br>She looked so small and precious surrounded by so much mattress and big fluffy pillows.&nbsp; I laid myself down beside her, then pulled her close, our warm, clean, naked bodies parallel to each other.&nbsp; I let her put her head on my shoulder as I put an arm around her, and had her throw one leg over mine as I lay on my back with her on her side.<br><br>After a couple of minutes, my hand went down her back and squeezed her ass, then smacked it, stirring her.&nbsp; I sat up and went to the closet, picking out my outfit for the day.&nbsp; I pulled out a hanger with a suit jacket and trousers, and another with a dress shirt.<br><br><strong>"You may pick the tie and cufflinks, cunt.&nbsp; I will think of you when I adjust them throughout the day."</strong><br><br>I stood up as she dressed me, putting on my boxers and t-shirt, then my dress shirt which she buttoned, then my pants which she zipped up and fastened with a belt.&nbsp; It was nice having her stand or kneel near me.&nbsp; I sat in my chair and let her brush my hair, and I openly gawked at her tits as she put my cologne on her hands and put her hands on my face.&nbsp; Finally, I put my suit jacket on and stood in front of the mirror with her still naked body beside mine.<br><br><strong>"Well done, cunt.&nbsp; It has been a while since I have felt so handsome.&nbsp; Now go prepare me breakfast.&nbsp; I am in the mood for a lightly buttered croissant, fresh squeezed orange juice, and coffee.&nbsp; While you do that, I will choose your outfit.&nbsp; After breakfast, we will walk to the office and get you officially registered... as my <em>slave</em>."</strong><br><br>I watched her go to the kitchen and went to her bedroom.&nbsp; I thought about how I might change it to something else, perhaps a full-fledged dungeon.&nbsp; I could add attachments points to her existing bed, or replace it completely with a bondage table, so that the only bed available for her would be mine.&nbsp; The rocking horse from her childhood could be replaced with a wooden horse.&nbsp; And the reading chair in the corner could be substituted by a birthing chair with a magic wand holder.&nbsp; Her armoire would house whips and floggers and riding crops and rope and chains and restraints of all kinds.&nbsp; And her closet could be turned into a cage.&nbsp; <br><br>I picked out a pair of high heels.&nbsp; That was her outfit.&nbsp; That was all she would need for the walk to the BAF office.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vin26m</strong> on <strong>28-06-2012, 23:19:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/01/Fat_BAF_1.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Grégoire Garros</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office, en route to the registration room<br><strong>With:</strong> Karin Leconte; Nicolas Nez, the BAF official with the hooked nose and lab coat; Marcel Moreau, the skinny BAF official<br><br>I had this day marked on my calendar.&nbsp; <br><br>I knew that Mr. Leconte had a daughter who was going to have an 18th birthday today.&nbsp;<br><br>I knew that he was going to register her to be his slave.&nbsp; <br><br>I knew he would walk her during morning rush hour to make sure that as many onlookers and commuters as possible could see her.&nbsp; <br><br>I knew she was drop dead gorgeous.&nbsp; Whenever he called me into his office to reprimand me for being too rough with the slaves, I would stare at that picture of her that he had on his desk, imagining her straddling a wooden horse, her arms tied above her head, covered in handprints and whipmarks.<br><br>I knew that I wanted to be part of the group that was going to register her.&nbsp; I made sure to come in early every day this month.&nbsp; Maybe he would give me a chance to register the lovely Karin, and, much to my satisfaction, he chose me.&nbsp; Not Maurice or Julien or the other clerks and investigators.&nbsp; Me.&nbsp; <br><br>I <em>don't</em> know if he noticed me working harder and longer than usual, or maybe he just gave her to me because I was the only one there.&nbsp; Whatever the reason, I didn't care.&nbsp; All that mattered was that I was going to get my hands on that blonde slave's tits and ass and cunt.<br><br>Mr. Leconte gave me her leash and I barely held in my ecstasy.&nbsp; Having the cunt stand there before me, her collar attached to the leash in my hand, was more exhilirating than I imagined.&nbsp; She was even sexier than she was when I fantasized about her.&nbsp; <br><br>My boss ordered me to carry out her registration and return her <em>unpenetrated</em>.&nbsp; He seemed to accentuate that last point.&nbsp; I was not going to let him down, but I was still going to feel her up for all she was worth (which looked like a lot, maybe even more than my salary for the year).&nbsp; Finally, I got alone with her in the lift.<br><br>The door to the lift closed and I did not bother suppressing the big smile on my face any longer.&nbsp; I grabbed those big beautiful tits of hers - I love big tits - and mauled them like a big fat bear that was hungry for more.&nbsp; She didn't stop me at all, or put up a fight, or even make a sound other than a pained gasp.&nbsp; She even went so far as to <em>lift her arms</em> up for me so I <em>could continue</em> to attack her tits.<br><br>My hands went down her body and wrapped around her tiny waist - I could almost fit it inside the opening formed when I made a circle with my thumbs and middle fingers. <br><br>Her hips were as big as her bust, and I reached around behind her to squeeze her firm ass.&nbsp; She leaned forward into me, pressing her tits against my chest, and parted her legs so I could spread her asscheeks and run my fingertips around her puckered hole.&nbsp; <br><br>What a beautiful, obedient cunt Mr. Leconte had.&nbsp; <strong>"Good cunt.&nbsp; Very well-trained.&nbsp; You know what to do without being told."</strong>&nbsp; I patted her ass as I rested my chin on her shoulder, looking down her back, holding her tight and close.<br><br>The lift opened, and I felt like the man walking her down the corridor to the registration room.&nbsp; My co-workers such as the scientists and the guards nodded at me, giving me the thumbs up, while making jokes and comments at the cunt.&nbsp; One man smacked her ass after she wiggled at him.&nbsp; Oh, I would do <em>anything</em> to own this cunt for just a night.&nbsp; I hope Mr. Leconte finds me worthy of spending more time with his new slave in the future.<br><br>I brought her to the room to supervise the registration, making sure that the cunt would remain unpenetrated.&nbsp; As the interviewer asked questions, I stood behind her and reached around under her arms and felt those big tits again.&nbsp; I rubbed my cock against her bare ass and pressed my nose into the side of her head, sniffing her hair deeply.&nbsp; I noticed one of the scientists, Nicolas, set up a camera with a tripod, but once he had it focused just right he joined in on the fun.&nbsp; Marcel, meanwhile, welcomed her from behind the desk.<br><br><br><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/a/a0/Weasel_BAF_1.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Marcel Moreau</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office, in the registration room<br><strong>With:</strong> Karin Leconte; Grégoire Garros, the fat BAF official; Nicolas Nez, the BAF official with the hooked nose and lab coat<br><br>Registration can be a nervous time for a slave.&nbsp; While it was true that the process was very... thorough... it was also true that the BAF officials took certain... liberties with the applicants.&nbsp; These females were nothing more than slaves and cunts, but that did not mean I had to be cruel and heartless about it.<br><br><strong>"Ah, here she is!&nbsp; We <em>thought</em> you would be in this week.&nbsp; Happy birthday, my dearie.&nbsp; Your 18th is going to be a busy-busy day for you, my pretty little cunt!&nbsp; And yes!... What a <em>pretty cunt</em> you have too!&nbsp; My word, dear papa is going to have fun with you.&nbsp; So...&nbsp; Well, you have <em>some</em> idea of what we need you to do today so let’s get started. Stand there..."</strong><br><br>I pointed to a spot on the floor in front of the desk.&nbsp; There were two foot prints about two feet apart, and a silhouette showing how to pose with arms raised and hands behind the head, which was how her arms were positioned when she first walked in.<br><br>I looked over my glasses at her.&nbsp; She moved quickly into position without hesitation, a sign of obedience.&nbsp; She was off to a good start already.&nbsp; Nicolas, the technican, had the camera set up on a tripod and needed only to focus on her, which he did quickly.<br><br><strong>"Yes.&nbsp; Quite the beauty.&nbsp; You’re <em>very</em> lucky, my pretty cunt.&nbsp; I can see a high DMV here right away.&nbsp; So...&nbsp; Let’s begin. Name?&nbsp; Date of birth?&nbsp; Address?..."</strong><br><br>As she answered my questions, I typed the information into the computer.&nbsp; Much of the information was already filled out, but for the sake of the video, having her state her information was a necessary formality.<br><br>It was true that she would probably yield a high Determined Market Value.&nbsp; Perhaps she would not have the <em>highest</em> DMV I've appraised - that honor goes to a... Paulette something-or-other.&nbsp; <em>That</em> cunt, who was a bit older than Mr. Leconte's daughter, was a talented singer with some fame, and her DMV came out to at <em>least</em> 40,000 euro.&nbsp; <br><br>I have registered dozens of slaves, and I estimated that <em>this</em> cunt before me would have a DMV of about 25,000 euro - well above the 15,000 euro for an average cunt, and still higher than the 20,000 euro for one of the prettiest cunts.&nbsp; A truly exceptional cunt, such as a stunning 18 year-old virgin that was perpetually horny <em>and</em> was a master chef could have a DMV of 40,000 to 50,000 euro.&nbsp; A well-recognized and talented porn star could go for 60,000 to 70,000 euro.<br><br><strong>"Describe your school qualifications - did you receive any honors or medals after graduating for your slave-ed curriculum?&nbsp; Did you receive a ranking when you graduated, and out of how many students was that?&nbsp; What languages do you <em>speak</em> and how fluent are you in them?&nbsp; What languages can you <em>write</em>?&nbsp; What other skills do you have, such as cooking or singing or dancing?...</strong><br><br>As the questions went on, so did her answers.&nbsp; Despite being very aroused at what Grégoire and Nicolas were doing to her tits and cunt, respectively, she still showed great discipline in fully answering the questions.<br><br>To the side was a glass partition that faced the employee lounge.&nbsp; A few of the guards, scientists and slave handlers had gathered to watch the cunt's registration process.&nbsp; They were sipping at cups of coffee or tea and munching on croissants, no doubt making comments of their own.&nbsp; <br><br><strong>"That concludes the first interview part of the registration process.&nbsp; You will now take a written examination.&nbsp; Have a seat over there in front of the computer, my pretty cunt.&nbsp; <br><br>"The computer will ask you questions about basic math, basic science, logic, reading comprehension, language usage and, finally, slave behavior.&nbsp; It should take about 30 minutes.&nbsp; A section will end after you have gotten a certain number of answers wrong.<br>&nbsp; <br>"When you have more correct answers, the questions will get more difficult.&nbsp; You will be given one minute for each question, and there is no going back.&nbsp; Good luck.&nbsp; And Grégoire, please stop molesting the pretty cunt so she can concentrate."</strong><br><br>Just as the crowd started building up to see Mr. Leconte's daughter get registered as a slave, the show kind of stalled.&nbsp; Apparently, the pretty cunt was highly intelligent, and she ended up using the maximum amount of time of one hour because she kept getting so many answers correct.<br><br><br><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/53/Nose_BAF_1.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Nicolas Nez</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office, in the registration room<br><strong>With:</strong> Karin Leconte; Grégoire Garros, the fat BAF official; Marcel Moreau, the skinny BAF official<br><br>This was the most boring part of the registration process for most officials, but I kind of liked the testing part.&nbsp; So much can be communicated from a face, and I loved watching and recording the looks of concentration, achievement and frustration.&nbsp; Not only was Karin a good test taker, she had so many different facial expressions.&nbsp; Her body was one of the finest to have been registered, and her extremely pretty face truly and openly conveyed her feelings.&nbsp; <br><br>I looked forward to making a montage of her facial expressions, especially for the latter parts of the process.<br><br>After she took the test, some doctor came in to perform a physical examination.&nbsp; Most of it was basic stuff - checking her eyes, ears, nose, throat, heart rate, blood pressure and lung capacity.&nbsp; He did a DNA swab and took some blood.<br><br>Then the fun began.&nbsp; <br><br>First the doctor needed her body temperature.&nbsp; Free women have their temperatures taken orally.&nbsp; Not slaves!&nbsp; The most accurate readings came from the rectum.&nbsp; Usually, the doctor took some lube and coated the thermometer with it, but the slave was pretty wet, so the doctor just used her own natural juices to get that rectal thermometer up her pretty ass.<br><br>The doctor also required a urine sample.&nbsp; Free women were given a cup and access to the ladies' room.&nbsp; Again, not slaves!&nbsp; Her cup was placed on the floor, and she had to squat over the cup and aim a stream of her piss into it.&nbsp; Using gloved hands, the doctor picked up the container and closed it with a lid, then took a tissue and wiped her cunt dry!<br><br>He led her to a bed and laid her back with her legs in stirrups.&nbsp; He took a speculum to open up her cunt, giving her a thorough examination down there, all of which I recorded with close-ups between her legs, but also of her face, which was priceless when he was probing her.&nbsp; <br><br>The doctor turned to the side and lowered his breathing mask to tell Mr. Moreau, <strong>"This cunt's hymen is intact and natural.&nbsp; There has been no surgical restoration.&nbsp; She's a virgin.&nbsp; I will forego measurement of the strength and elasticity of her cunt, though.&nbsp; The hole in the hymen is a bit too small and I do not want to damage it in anyway."</strong>&nbsp; I filmed her face again when she heard that.&nbsp; It almost seemed like she was disappointed that she could not prove herself.&nbsp; <strong>"Once this cherry is popped, she can be brought in for a proper assessment of the tightness, strength and elasticity of her cunt."</strong><br><br>Next was the gag reflex analysis.&nbsp; The doctor gave her a special dildo to put down her throat.&nbsp; I recorded the audio of his instructions, but I focused the video on her face as she heard his directions.<br><br><strong>"Okay, cunt, I need to see how far down you can stick this dildo down your throat, how long you can hold it there for, and how many times you can swallow while it's in there.&nbsp; Feel free to practice a few times.&nbsp; When you're ready, let me know and I... can assess... your deepthroating... performance..."</strong><br><br>At this point, the break room was filled with employees, and upon seeing how eager she was to prove herself and what she was capable of doing with her oral cavity and throat, every single one of them was wide-eyed and slack-jawed in disbelief at her ability.<br><br>The doctor took back the dildo, covered in saliva.&nbsp; He told Mr. Moreau his findings, then said to the slave, <strong>"That was... impressive.&nbsp; Your owner is lucky.&nbsp; <em>Very</em> lucky."</strong>&nbsp; I focused on her face when he paid her that compliment.<br><br><strong>"Okay, stand between the desk and this machine that I have rolled in front of it.&nbsp; Bend over at the waist, then reach back and spread your asscheeks.&nbsp; I have a machine here that I have to adjust for your height, so get comfortable and hold still."</strong>&nbsp; I focused in on her puckered ring.&nbsp; It looked so tight!<br><br><strong>"I will insert this narrow rod into your entrance, and you are to back up into it so that it penetrates you.&nbsp; Keep backing up into it until I tell you to stop."</strong><br><br>I recorded her backing her ass up, taking inch after inch of the narrow rod, no thicker than a finger, until about six inches were inside her.<br><br><strong>"Okay, stop and hold still."</strong>&nbsp; He pushed some buttons on the machine.&nbsp; <strong>"Do not squeeze or clench.&nbsp; Do not push.&nbsp; Just relax.&nbsp; I will measure your natural tightness first.&nbsp; Starting... now."</strong><br><br>I recorded her face as she tried to relax.<br><br><strong>"Okay, on the count of three, clench as tightly as you can, and hold it for as long as possible.&nbsp; Ready?&nbsp; 1... 2... 3..."</strong><br><br>He made more readings.&nbsp; I watch her anus clamp down around the device, and took more video of her face.<br><br><strong>"Okay, you can stop clenching.&nbsp; This time, I want you to push as hard as you can.&nbsp; On three.&nbsp; 1... 2... 3..."</strong><br><br>More readings, more recordings.<br><br>He repeated this five more times for relaxed, clenched, and pushing states.&nbsp; He eased the sensor tube out of her ass, and it came out as clean as it went in.<br><br>The doctor patted her ass.&nbsp; <strong>"Okay, take a moment to relax.&nbsp; You may sit or stand straight.&nbsp; We will proceed with Venus administration, photographs, fitness, and arousal analysis shortly."</strong><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>05-07-2012, 17:42:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/KarinAvatar_04.jpg)<br><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font">KARIN LECONTE</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> At home/BAF office registration suite<br><strong>With:</strong> Master/With several NPC BAF employees<br><br>Washing papa’s body clean was enjoyable, because it was servitude – the thing my life had been building towards, and touching his warm skin with the slippery soap was sensuous, but even so I was more than a little confused because it was so intimate and because he was my own father and because the way he asked me to do it was so… erotic, a bathing style we’d often been shown in videos at school but which I had actually never had the chance to practice on a real person though I had practiced the moves alone in the shower or in my bedroom with a pillow as a makeshift partner. I had learned how to flex my spine and shift my hips and press my chest forwards against the ‘person’ I was serving but until today it had all been theory.<br><br>The act itself was completely sexual and that was why I was a little confused. Surely papa would buy a new Slut-Wife to take care of those needs?<br><br>Papa then stepped out of the shower and sat down to watch while ordering me to soap myself. This was easy! I had often dreamed while showering that my new owner, whoever he was, would want to watch me clean myself and so I gyrated slowly and sensuously in the glass cubicle, soaping my tits over and over and caressing their teats until they were erect and hard, the strings of soapy bubbles running down between them over my belly to my cunt. I’d turn away from papa and bend over to soap my behind and continue to shimmy and grind, making it a sexy dance, my fingers going between my cheeks to pull apart and get clean the crevice back there and my little pink rear hole, into which I willingly stuffed a finger, then two fingers and arched in pleasure as I reamed myself out. It was a sexual act of course but it was what a slave did, if ordered to get herself clean she did so happily, no matter who was watching, even if it was my own papa, he owned me.<br><br>Papa could place a bowl of water in the street and order me to do it and I would, happily and eagerly because that was what slaves were for, especially pretty ones as I knew I was – to be put on display, to entertain, to give visual and sexual pleasure to whoever watched. It could be a policeman or Madame Nourenne that grumpy old lady with the smelly cats who lived in the apartment next door, or even Monsieur Drogues, that gross, bald, old, fat man with the unshaven chin and the string vest who stank of garlic and lived down the hall in one of the cheaper apartments that faced onto the back street away from the marina. Honestly… I mean they must both be stinking rich to live here, but I suppose lots of money and too much seclusion makes some old people go funny in the head!<br><br>I would be a happy slave to cavort naked even in front of old ‘garlic’ Drogues. He was a man and deserved to see my body. These things didn’t make me question at all and I took pride in being asked to do them (at least in my head I did – this was my first day as a slave and I hadn’t yet been asked to do any of this!)<br><br>I dried off in front of Master, patting my soft skin gently and loving the feel of his gaze on me. When I was dry I then dried him as he ordered while he stood at the sink and brushed his teeth. He parted his legs and I had to delicately dry his behind and between his cheeks, just gently pat-patting his small opening, then squatting to reach under to take his manliness in my small hands and pat him dry with the fluffy towel, taking great care with his delicate balls.<br><br>He then told me to stand and lean on the sink while he brushed my teeth! That was so nice and reminded me of when I was a tiny child and he’d taught me how to clean my teeth, so many years ago. It made my heart ache a little, him doing that; it was so sweet.<br><br>It then seemed to him that we had plenty of time and he asked for a cuddle in bed. I went into his room and crawled, cat-like, up onto the big bed with its crisp white sheets and lay down, sprawling on my back and arching up at him, arms thrown above my head. I smiled at him as he joined me and we spent a lovely five minutes cuddling together, him on his back and me with my leg thrown over his and his big erection sticking proudly and rather rudely up in the air, plain to see. He didn’t seem shy about it and of course it didn’t bother me. A man should get excited by his slave; if he does not, she isn’t doing her job properly; but I was perplexed that papa would get excited by his own daughter.<br><br>His warm hand came around my back and squeezed my bottom, then spanked it lightly. It made me giggle, a nice playful fatherly touch.<br><br>He got out of bed then and began to choose his clothes for the day, I rolled onto my back, spreading my legs, and lay there for him to enjoy as he chose his shirt and suit.<br><br><strong><em>"You may pick the tie and cufflinks, cunt. I will think of you when I adjust them throughout the day."</em></strong><br><br><strong>“Merci, Maître,”</strong> I said, slipping off the bed and looking through his rows of ties. I chose a gold silk one, a Louis Vuitton which looked stunning against his dark grey suit. <strong>“This cunt thinks the gold Vuitton tie will look good on her Master.”</strong><br><br>(http://i3.squidoocdn.com/resize/squidoo_images/-1/lens17265721_1294671088expensive-exclusive-silk-)<br><br>I knew which cufflinks too, a gold pair with a floral enameled design in dark grey, almost black, that linked the gold of the tie to the grey of his suit.<br><br>(http://www.imcufflinks.com/297-1555-large/18k-gold-vintage-totem-expensive-men-cufflinks.jpg)<br><br>I then dressed him completely, from underwear to handing him his suit jacket. I loved doing this, it was what all my schooling had been for!<br><br><strong><em>"Well done, cunt. It has been a while since I have felt so handsome. Now go prepare me breakfast. I am in the mood for a lightly buttered croissant, fresh squeezed orange juice, and coffee. While you do that, I will choose your outfit. After breakfast, we will walk to the office and get you officially registered... as my </em>slave<em>."</em></strong><br><br>I adored the way he spoke, often emphasizing those words that described me, making me feel less worthy and more like the pretty piece of meat I was. He was making me so happy!<br><br>When preparing breakfast I put on the simple white cotton apron, that had a big crisp bow that tied in the small of my back. My bare behind wiggled at the rear and the sides of my tits showed from the side of the bib-front. I got papa his breakfast, brewing the coffee in the Gaggia machine just how he liked it.<br><br>He came downstairs and placed my outfit on the floor. Just a pail of heels. My white satin ones with the incredibly tall spike heels. They were six inches tall and papa had always called them my ‘fuck me’ shoes. I had a few other pairs just as tall and just as sexy. I slipped into them and in seconds adjusted my balance to the new alignment of my feet and legs. I rose up, taller in the kitchen and the sink and dishwasher seemed further away!<br><br>I walked around the tiled kitchen, clicking loudly and papa never took his eyes off my body. His constant gaze was making me wet, exciting me. I had been taught so many times to treat the look of my Master as an arousing thing so that now I did, unable to help it. Just having him in the same room as me made me feel hot and bothered and somehow the tall heels and the apron I knew made me look sexier. I would bend forwards to brush crumbs off the table in such a position that he could best enjoy the sight of the side-curve of my forwards-dangling tits.<br><br>Then breakfast was over. I took off my apron, went up to my room to apply a little perfume and a small amount of makeup and to brush my hair then came down to wait by the apartment door for my Master.<br><br>He came striding down the hall, opened the door and went out. Drawing a deep breath and, even after so much time spent nude in the classroom at school with all the other girls, I still felt exposed when naked and outside my own apartment – I went out, closing the door behind me. I slipped one wrist behind my back and clutched it with my other hand and then, so totally aware of my bare body and my unsupported bare breasts, shifting and bouncing a little on my chest, I set off down the short apartment corridor to the lift that would take us to the street and the sunshine and bustling crowd of a commuter city.<br><br><em>My God. I’m going outside naked in public! For the very first time in my life! This is so… it makes me so… so wet!</em><br><br><hr><br>As I answered his questions the weaselly-faced man tap-tapped away at his computer keyboard, entering everything about me so it was all official and would stay in the BAFs databanks until I died, being archived even after my death. I was so proud of this moment! I was finally becoming a slave. It would not be long now before I would feel a real collar go on.<br><br>There were dozens of questions about my home life and personal life, then all my school qualifications, it went on and on, and though my vice grew a little ragged as the hook-nosed man touched and played with my cunt, I made sure to answer quickly, clearly and truthfully. The stinky fat man behind me never let my tits alone and soon after we started, my teats almost hurt, they were sticking up so stiff and proud,<br><br>I was aware that while three walls of the Registration Room were covered with shelves, eye charts, height charts and the various machines the men would use on me for their tests, the fourth wall was a clear glassed panel. It seemed that it gave a view onto the rest area for the employees. There was a small kitchen with a sink, microwave and fridge; a coffee machine and another for snacks as well as a water cooler and some tables for them to take lunch at plus some soft seating to relax in.<br><br>Occupying this space beyond the glass wall were about twenty men. I saw one woman, naked, collared and kneeling. She seemed to be what I knew as a Corporate Slave, a slut owned by the company and often employed for their secretarial skills or other abilities. This one though was stationed in the men’s rest area and while I was there she did nothing but accept men into her mouth. My registration process took a long time. I think she must have sucked a dozen men to orgasm during that time and I did notice that the men using her mouth were facing the window and watching me being tested.<br><br>This made my heart soar. If so many men wanted to lustily stare at me and perhaps that man having his cock sucked was imagining me doing it, then I was truly a proud and happy slave!<br><br>The fat smelly man and the hook-nosed camera man’s constant groping of my body was exciting enough, but to see fifteen or twenty other men staring at my tits and belly and behind made me go weak at the knees with pleasure.<br><br>My attention was brought back to weasel-face.<br><br><strong><em>"That concludes the first interview part of the registration process. You will now take a written examination. Have a seat over there in front of the computer, my pretty cunt. <br><br>"The computer will ask you questions about basic math, basic science, logic, reading comprehension, language usage and, finally, slave behavior. It should take about 30 minutes. A section will end after you have gotten a certain number of answers wrong.<br>&nbsp;<br>"When you have more correct answers, the questions will get more difficult. You will be given one minute for each question, and there is no going back. Good luck. And Grégoire, please stop molesting the pretty cunt so she can concentrate."</em></strong><br><br><strong>“Oui, Monsieur, merci, Monsieur,”</strong> I answered him obediently and for the first time since I’d got in the lift after leaving papa, I was not being touched by men.<br><br>I sat at a little desk and typed on a keyboard the answers to questions that came up on the screen. All the questions seemed quite silly and simple and I whizzed through them, sometimes the answer was so obvious that I was waiting several seconds for the computer to catch up.<br><br>I don’t know how long I was doing the written test but it seemed a long time. I thought of papa often during the test and wanted to be back with him, kneeling by his side with my brand-new shining slave choker about my neck.<br><br>The test ended at some point, I do not know why. I was told to stand and not knowing differently I laced my hands behind my neck again. This posture did lovely things for the shape of my tits and it seemed to please my examiners most, so I decided to keep the posture unless I was asked to do something else. I arched my back so my tits thrust out more. The hooked-nose man continued filming me with his camera.<br><br>Next, a medical. A doctor looked carefully into my eyes with a very bright light, then in my ears, up my nose, and down my throat. I sat in a chair and he conducted an eye test, then he tapped my knees and elbows with a little rubber hammer. He held a cold stethoscope to my chest and back, listening to my heart, then checked my blood pressure, pricked my inner elbow with needles to draw out blood samples, held a bag device for me to blow into and all kinds of other things. I was weighed, my height measured (I stepped out of my shoes for that!) and then all kinds of body measurements were taken, bust-waist-hips, inside leg, shoe size, collar size, hat size and so on. I knew this data went into my Slave Log Book and was all useful for an owner who wanted to buy me outfits though in my case this wasn’t necessary since dear papa intimately knew all my sizes. He had seen them grow and – haha – <em>develop</em> since I was a baby.<br><br>I was asked if I was lactating and shook my head. Papa had never done that to me with those drugs that make a slave make milk. Had I been lactating I supposed the doctor would have squeezed my tits several times to make a milk sample come out.<br><br>I was allowed to slip my shoes back on. My body temperature was now taken and I was ordered to bend forwards and part my legs. I noticed that the doctor had me bend with my back to the glass wall so the men could all see. I was actually wet by now, this being on display excited me so bad! A curt command had me responding by reaching back behind myself to take hold of my buttocks and pull, spreading my body open. I could feel the needy heat and slickness at my lower lips and wondered if my wetness was visible to the crowd of men yet.<br><br>Big-nose with his camera moved behind me to film my pulled-apart bottom and there was a tiny touch against my wet cunt as the doctor used my own juice as lubricant. I allowed a little gasp to escape, even that small touch felt good. Then something wet and slippery and small was pushed up into my backside. I kept still, waiting until the thermometer had been inside my bottom long enough. It was drawn out and the reading taken. Weasel-face tapped that into his computer also.<br><br>Next I was told to squat and pee into a cup. The doctor made me turn round and I faced the twenty – or by now was it more? – men beyond the glass. I had never done anything so dirty and embarrassing as this before and I was squatting with my knees wide apart with my hands behind my head for ages, willing myself to wee until finally I did so, the doctor catching the flow in a cup held in his gloved hand. He used a wet-wipe to clean me then told me to lie down on an examination table.<br><br>The doctor placed stirrups to the sides and told me to lift my legs into them. He strapped my legs in place then shifted the stirrups wide apart and further back until my knees were up beside my waist and my cunt was pulled wide open. A cold, hard speculum was slid a little way in and opened up. The doctor carefully took swabs and stated that I was a virgin. Tap-tap-tap when weasel’s keyboard.<br><br>Still on the examination couch I was told that my gag reflex would be tested. Us girls during our last school year, when we’d been seventeen, had spent so long practicing on silicon dildos that many of us were very good at not choking and puking. Several fathers or older brothers had signed release forms allowing oral penetration for education purposes and I recall there were six girls in my class who regularly had the cocks of the teachers, other senior boys or visiting BAF officials in their mouths as part of these lessons, having to kneel, arms behind their backs while men’s flesh was slid further and further down their throats. There were classes too where they (and we, who used dildos fixed to poles) lay across a long bench side by side on our backs with our heads hanging upside down off the side. Those girls with their CMR letters had men standing and pushing their cocks in while the rest of us used the dildos. For an hour or more (a double lesson on Tuesdays and another on Thursdays after lunch) we would lie their choking and coughing and spitting thick strings of drool and saliva and in some cases, throwing up, as we all tried to get the best score in class.<br><br>We girls even held unofficial competitions to see who could hold the longest cock or dildo.<br><br>Today the silicon fake cock was clamped in an arm and wheeled across the examination couch and I did my best, accepting it as deep down my throat as I could, holding my breath or trying to use my breathing techniques to get air to my lungs despite a blocked throat. I bounced my head backwards and forwards bravely trying to do my duty and remember all the techniques I learned in school while making all kinds of disgusting noises! The doctor then dropped the headrest of the couch so my head was upside down and I was given a second depth test, gurgling and coughing and trying my hardest. Dear papa had said <em>no penetration</em>, I wondered what this test would be like if he hadn’t said that? Did they have men working here who had cocks as big as these rubber ones?<br><br>As I was doing my very best upside down I could feel the coughs and chokes making my tits jiggle on my chest. I heard some faint applause and looking over, saw the crowd of men beyond the glass clapping and grinning and giving thumbs-up signs.<br><br>The dildo was finally slid out. The doctor spoke.<br><br><strong><em>"That was... impressive. Your owner is lucky. </em>Very<em> lucky."</em></strong><br><br><strong>“Merci, Monsieur,”</strong> I replied, pleased that I had pleased my examiners and being given a wipe to get rid of all the gooey mess that had run down my face and into my hair. I had had so many rubber cocks in my mouth at school and become quite good at taking them deeply so in a way it was a shame my skill would never be used since papa would use the mouths of his slut-wife. That reminded me, it had been a few months since he’d sold the last one, I should ask him when he would buy another. I remembered him using the previous slut-wife’s mouth really vigorously so that she made the most amazing noises and made a great mess! I know he enjoyed doing it, he must be missing not having one around the house.<br><br><strong><em>"Okay, stand between the desk and this machine that I have rolled in front of it. Bend over at the waist, then reach back and spread your ass cheeks. I have a machine here that I have to adjust for your height, so get comfortable and hold still."<br>&nbsp;<br>"I will insert this narrow rod into your entrance, and you are to back up into it so that it penetrates you. Keep backing up into it until I tell you to stop."</em></strong><br><br>My thoughts again were interrupted by the sphincter and rectum tightness test. I knew this was a measurement that was very important, next only to cunt tightness which I couldn’t be tested on because my hymen was in the way… Lots of possible buyers, I was taught at school, liked a tight slave, so this was an important moment. It made me nervous.<br><br>I stood by the desk and bent forwards from the waist, reaching back again to hold my bottom open. I had to lift my head and place my chin on a rest. This lifted my back at the right angle. I felt the greased rod of the machine sliding into me. It went deeper and deeper and <em>deeper</em>. I bit my lip and whimpered. It felt like I was gushing now, I was so excited and feely so sexy!<br><br><strong><em>"Okay, stop and hold still. Do not squeeze or clench. Do not push. Just relax. I will measure your natural tightness first. Starting... now."<br><br>…<br><br>"Okay, on the count of three, clench as tightly as you can, and hold it for as long as possible. Ready? 1... 2... 3..."<br><br>…<br><br>"Okay, you can stop clenching. This time, I want you to push as hard as you can. On three. 1... 2... 3..."</em></strong><br><br>I did exactly as I was told, relaxing and clenching tight and pushing over and over, many times so that the multiple sensors all over the tiny rod would record the pressure on it in dozens of places and so produce a computer-generated “Pressure Profile” of exactly how tight my little virgin bum was.<br><br>As I was bent forwards my tits dangled down and Stinky-fatty man decided to enjoy playing with them again, his pudgy moist fingers squeezing them again and again, his thumbs tightening against his forefingers to pinch me and make me want to moan out loud. I kept silent though and carried on with my clench-relax-pushes as ordered. It was a good thing I had pooped out all my creamy white waste this morning; that Balance drug really was so useful, no more horrid smell ever again! <br><br>There was a kindly pat on my behind and the rod was eased out of my bottom. I stood up. Stinky-fatty simply kept his hands on my tits, amusing himself with them. My fingers laced behind my neck at once. I felt horny as anything but more than that, I wanted a bath again with all of his grubby grasping!
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vin26m</strong> on <strong>05-07-2012, 20:51:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/ConstantLeconte13_Avatar.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Constant Leconte</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office, in his office, then in the employee break room<br><strong>With:</strong> Karin Leconte, his daughter, various BAF employees<br><br><strong>"...yes, I will make the proper arrangements.&nbsp; I appreciate that you understand my concern.&nbsp; It is a bit unusual for one trading house to sell three slaves of such high quality within a matter of hours, which is why the transactions came to my attention...&nbsp; <br><br>"As long as you have enough storage space, getting you more stock is not an issue...<br><br>"We do have enough cunts in inventory...&nbsp; <br><br>"As usual, you may peruse them yourself in person or simply make your selections based on their registration information which is available to you in the database.&nbsp; Just let my people know which cunts you want and when you want to pick them up...&nbsp; Very good.&nbsp; Yes, good day to you, too."</strong><br><br>I tapped the earpiece of my headset and moved the boom mic away from my mouth, but then just removed the whole apparatus and tossed it on the desk.&nbsp; I slumped back in my chair, let my hands slip off the armrests so they hung loosely, and let out a long sigh.<br><br>I looked down between my legs at my secretary, who had been working my cock with her mouth for the entire phone call.&nbsp; I slid my ass toward the edge of the seat and reclined the back of the chair, lifting up my legs and wrapping them around her body to rest my shoes on her ass.&nbsp; <br><br>I must have looked rather comical, with the waistband of my boxers pulled down under my big saggy balls, my pants off and neatly hung over a chair, the stirrups of my socks around my calves.&nbsp; <br><br>Inching my hips forward was the signal that I was close, and like a well trained oral slut, my cunt of a corporate slave secretary picked up the pace, slurp-slurp-slurping noisily and choking herself loudly on my cock now that there was no business associate to overhear her on the phone.<br><br>I grabbed her short brown hair and slammed her face down on my cock.&nbsp; I lifted one leg so my foot came off her ass and crossed it toward my opposite knee, trapping her head with my cock lodged down her throat.&nbsp; She hung on for as long as she could before tapping my leg, then started bucking as her throat milked my shaft.&nbsp; The wheels of my chair squeaked a bit as her struggles moved it around.<br><br>I looked at my cufflinks and thought of Karin, my daugher, my slave, my cunt, being the one on her knees before me, gagging and licking my balls, as she struggled to breathe.&nbsp; Finally, I blew my load, ejaculating spurt... after spurt,... after spurt,... after spurt,... after spurt,... after spurt,... after a couple more spurts,... and some dribbling... of cum stored up since that morning, directly past her tonsils to her stomach.<br><br>My whole body went limp and I pushed her away, the back of her head banging on the edge of my desk as she coughed and cried and held her own neck.&nbsp; We stayed like that for a few moments, then I got hit with a burst of adrenaline and stood up, using her hair to wipe her throat slime and perhaps a bit of her breakfast off my cock.<br><br>I just let her curl up into the fetal position and whimper while I put my pants back on.&nbsp; I figured Karin would have been returned to me by now.&nbsp; I wondered what the hold-up was.&nbsp; I fixed my outfit, thinking of Karin's hands on me that morning, followed by the breakfast she served.<br><br><hr><br>I wondered how much of Karin's movements were conscious and how much of them were simply second nature to her due to her training.&nbsp; It seemed as if she knew just how to stand or walk or sidestep or bend over or squat down in order to give me the best view of her ass or her tits or her legs or her hair or her smile.&nbsp; <br><br>Even the sunlight seemed to hit her body at just the right angle, as if she knew just where to position herself for maximum exposure, or perhaps the center of the solar system aligned itself perfectly with the angle of the planet to provide a natural spotlight on her flawless beauty.<br><br>I had her stand beside me and reached across her lower back to place my hand on her waist by her hip that was on the far side of me.&nbsp; As I looked her body up and down, the light reflecting off her body and through the translucent material of the apron that barely covered her mound, I took nibbles off my croissant with the occasional sip of coffee or juice.&nbsp; I did not bother being too careful, knowing that she would take a napkin and brush the crumbs off my suit or, even better, the corner of my mouth.<br><br>Although she made me breakfast, I took the liberty of preparing hers - the bottom half of an English muffin, lightly buttered and toasted so that the nooks and crannies were just the right mix of crunchy and chewy.&nbsp; She would be my slave and cunt soon enough, but I would still treat her like a little girl occasionally, preparing her favorites personally.<br><br>She made sure to make the table as spotless as when we first got there, placing the dishes and silverware and glasses and coffee mugs into the dishwasher.&nbsp; I kind of wished I chose her gold pair of "fuck me" shoes since they would match my tie, but the white satin suited her just virginal status just fine.<br><br>I waited by the door with the non-BAF collar and leash in hand and she walked gracefully toward me, as if the heels were part of her body all along.&nbsp; Even in those shoes I was still a couple of inches taller than she.&nbsp; I had her stand before me, then placed my hands on her bare shoulders and turned her around to face the mirror in the entrance hallway.&nbsp; i took her soft blond hair in my hand and moved it so that it went down and in front of one of her shoulders.&nbsp; I held the leash in my hand and lifted it up and over her head, putting it around her back and fastening it closed.<br><br>Again, with my hands on her shoulders I turned her around, completing her spin.&nbsp; I turned her head to the side with my fingers on her chin, then attached the leash to her collar.&nbsp; I let go of the leash so that it hung down between her breats, swinging and landing against her slit.&nbsp; I reached down to take the end of the leash, and the back of my hand brushed up against her mound.&nbsp; I felt her heat and wetness between her legs.&nbsp; &nbsp;With her chin up and point forward again, and her arms behind her back, I led her out of the apartment.&nbsp; She closed the door and walked behind me to the lift.<br><br>I entered the lift and turned around, and she moved so that she was behind me and to my left the whole time.&nbsp; I pushed the "L" button to go to the lobby, the main floor.&nbsp; The doors started closing.&nbsp; <br><br>The familiar voice of that disgusting, unkempt pig of a man named Drogues asked to hold the lift from down the hall.&nbsp; I pretended to reach for the button that would re-open the doors, but stopped short just before the door completely closed.&nbsp; I was admiring Karin through the reflection, but turned and looked at her in the eye with a naughty glint and wicked smile.&nbsp; I looked down her body and back up to her eyes, then faced forward to look at her reflection.<br><br><strong>"<em>Cunt</em>,"</strong> I said, reminding her of place and implying that I was going to give her directions to follow, <strong>"I will introduce you to some acquaintances of mine that I have made during my walks to and from work.&nbsp; After I greet them, I will tell them that there is someone I want for them to meet.<br><br>You will introduce yourself by doing the following.&nbsp; <br><br>You will greet them by wishing them a good morning and giving them a curtsey.&nbsp; <br><br>You will tell them your full name.&nbsp; <br><br>You will tell them that Monsieur Leconte is your papa.&nbsp; <br><br>You will tell them that today is your 18th birthday.&nbsp; <br><br>You will tell them that today is a very happy day for you, because you are being registered as slave to your papa.&nbsp; <br><br>You will tell them that your papa wishes for them to look at you.&nbsp; You will spin around slowly in place for them so that they may look upon you.&nbsp; You will ask them if there are any poses they wish to see you in, and you will position your body as they say.<br><br>You will tell them that your papa wishes for them to touch you, and you will ask them if there are any places... <em>any</em> place... that they wish to touch you.&nbsp; And you will offer those places.<br><br>Throughout your entire introdcution, you will entice them and tease them to <em>want</em>touch you, because I <em>want</em> them to touch you.&nbsp; I want them to see and feel you, especially your <em>tits</em>, and I want them to know what a beautiful, obedient daughter, slave and <em>cunt</em> I will be owning."</strong><br><br>The elevator door opened and we walked out of the lobby.<br><br>As soon as we exited the building, it seemed like traffic stopped and accidents happened.&nbsp; Buses and cars full of commuters simultaneously turned their heads to see the nubile teenager I had in tow.<br><br>My first stop was the newspaper stand just around the corner.&nbsp; Monsieur Cevert was a kind and gentle soul, and older than I.&nbsp; Although his vision was very poor, he still was able to sort his wares and make change.&nbsp; He was terrible with faces, but had a sharp ear for voices and a sensitive nose for smells.&nbsp; I greeted him as I paid for my newspaper.&nbsp; Before he started giving me the usual updates on my favorite sports teams, I told him that there was someone I wanted him to meet.&nbsp; I stepped aside to allow Karin to do what I told her to.&nbsp; <br><br>I found it amusing that he touched her hairline, her eyebrows, the bridge of her nose, her cheeks, her jaw, her ears, and her lips.&nbsp; He ran his fingers through her hair.&nbsp; And spent the most time feeling her breasts.<br><br>Next was the grocery stand, where I picked up things like fruit or bread.&nbsp; Monsieur Mongolfier was an ox of a man, tall and muscular, with large hands and fingers like sausages.&nbsp; His skin was as black as ink, and his head was shaved.&nbsp; He could have passed for a handsome fellow if his teeth were not so yellow and crooked.&nbsp; His neck looked thicker than the crown of his head.&nbsp; He was some sort of athlete that suffered an injury, and is now helping his family run their business.<br><br>Predictably, the big black man had Karin turn around and bend over and spread her legs.&nbsp; He squeezed her bottom and spread the cheeks wide, his fingertips grazing against the pink pucker that was the entrance to her back passage.<br><br>Monsieur Foch was a traffic officer of the police at a busy intersection I had to cross.&nbsp; He had a lazy eye, and it was hard to tell which one to look into when speaking with him.&nbsp; He must have been a wrestler of some kind because his ears looked like cauliflowers.&nbsp; Any muscles he had turned to fat around his waistline, and his gut overflowed his belt and hung down, hiding the buckle.&nbsp; He was also either well hung, or had a baby arm holding an apple coming out of his crotch.<br><br>He paid extra attention to Karin's tits, running his calloused thumbs over her nipples before pinching, pulling and twisting them.<br><br><hr><br>I took the stairs down to the level where Karin's registration was taking place.&nbsp; I wondered what part they were up to.&nbsp; I looked up and down the hallway, but there were no guards at their posts.&nbsp; I check out some of the labs and slave areas, and they too were empty, except for the slaves locked up.&nbsp; The place seemed deserted, until the sound of laughter and cheering echoed toward me, from the break room, which was adjacent to the registration room with only a glass partition between them.<br><br>Even without trying to be sneaky, my footsteps were drowned out by the noise that the guards, scientists and clerks were making.&nbsp; I rarely came to the employee break room, and even then only late after hours when no one else was there.<br><br>I walked past the doorway, stood just inside the break room, and folded my arms.&nbsp; One of the guards was rutting the one corp slave in the room full of men, using her ass, apparently inspired by the anal pressure profile part of Karin's registration.&nbsp; His steady rhythm suddenly stopped as he turned to face me.<br><br>He quickly pulled out of the corp cunt's ass and zipped himself up, then tapped another guard, who tapped another employee, and so on, until everyone was aware of my presence, looking at me, turning toward me, then looking at the floor, while sneaking glances at my daughter.<br><br>One of them finally realized that this was the part where everyone leaves, and one by one, the BAF employees filed out.&nbsp; The last one to go was the corp cunt, and I showed my disappointment in everyone with a hard smack on her ass that made everyone jump.<br><br><hr><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/01/Fat_BAF_1.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Grégoire Garros</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office, en route to the registration room<br><strong>With:</strong> Karin Leconte; Nicolas Nez, the BAF official with the hooked nose and lab coat; Marcel Moreau, the skinny BAF official<br><br>The loud noise outside broke the trance I was in.&nbsp; I was so enthralled feeling up the cunt that I didn't notice the breakroom empty out or Mr. Leconte walk in.&nbsp; His arms were folded and he seemed angry.&nbsp; I did what he told me to do - she hasn't been penetrated.&nbsp; I wasn't sure what else I did, so I just let go of her wonderfully perky, full tits and stepped away from her.&nbsp; Maybe he would leave and I could have more fun again.&nbsp; I hope I didn't blow it for future chances at his daughter.<br><br><hr><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/53/Nose_BAF_1.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Nicolas Nez</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office, in the registration room<br><strong>With:</strong> Karin Leconte; Grégoire Garros, the fat BAF official; Marcel Moreau, the skinny BAF official<br><br>The doctor pointed at a scale that was in front of a height chart.&nbsp; I set up the video camera so that it was getting a full body shot of her from directly in front, and I used a regular camera to take photos of her from the front, also capturing the the digital readout of the scale as well as the reading of the chart behind her in one shot.&nbsp; <br><br>I took more pictures of her, both full body shots and close-up images, from different angles - the front, each side, and the rear.&nbsp; I took more pictures of her tits and her cunt, showing there were no piercings, tattoos, brands, other marks, or even hair of any kind.&nbsp; Her skin was flawless!&nbsp; <br><br>I took more photos of the doctor taking her measurements, including her bustline, her waist, her hips, the size of her areolas, the distance her nipples stuck out, and so on.&nbsp; Of course, this was all done earlier during the medical, but this served as a confirmation of what the doctor dictated earlier.&nbsp; Besides, the video was not usually used except during investigations - the photos would be printed and added to hardcopy files, as well as used for the database.<br><br>When he finished, I put down the camera for still shots and picked up the video camera.&nbsp; It was time to gauge her fitness.<br><br><hr><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/a/a0/Weasel_BAF_1.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Marcel Moreau</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office, in the registration room<br><strong>With:</strong> Karin Leconte; Grégoire Garros, the fat BAF official; Nicolas Nez, the BAF official with the hooked nose and lab coat<br><br><strong>"You are doing very well, my pretty cunt, we shall have you back to your papa in no time.&nbsp; I am sure he is very eager to have a lovely specimen like you returned to him."</strong><br><br>The doctor set up the treadmill and had the cunt jog on it.&nbsp; I would have like to have Grégoire tie her hands behind her back to see her tits bounce up and down, but Mr. Leconte was in the next room and looked like he was losing his patience.<br><br>Nicolas was getting video of her jogging, stepping back to get all of her body and moving in to focus on the bouncing of her tits or the jiggle of her ass.<br><br>The doctor put the cunt into a rowing machine, and again Nicolas filmed it all, even getting a sequence of images between her legs and under her thighs as they flexed and extended during the rowing motion.<br><br>The doctor quickly took her heart rate, blood pressure and lung capacity, then told the cunt how to position her body to demonstrate her flexibility.&nbsp; He stood her up and had her spread her legs as wide as possible, measuring the distance between her mound and the floor.&nbsp; He stood her back up and had her perform another split, with one leg in front and the other behind, again seeing how close she could get her cunt to the floor.<br><br>With the Venus having had a chance to be absorbed by her body, the doctor checked her sensitivity and resistance to the drug, but examining the swelling and wetness of her cunt and the stiffness of her nipples.&nbsp; Some cunts required more of the drug, some less, for a certain amount of arousal.&nbsp; This was somewhat correlated with the body mass of the cunt herself, as well as her natural defenses to it.<br><br>With the registration complete, her collar was set to "within Monaco" and "restricted."<br><br><strong>"That is all, my pretty cunt.&nbsp; Usually, slaves that are to be enslaved by their Closest Male Relative undergo an abbreviated version of the registration process.&nbsp; However, your papa requested the full appraisal that is for slaves that are to be sold to trading houses.&nbsp; Usually, while we will finish calculating your Determined Market Value, you would go to the holding pens before sending you to the salesroom, but for now you, you may rejoin your papa to complete the paperwork to enslave you to him."</strong>&nbsp; <br><br>I motioned to the door, where Mr. Leconte was waiting.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>06-07-2012, 23:31:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://fhg.thelifeerotic.com/media/6A75A231841B5B34E5B9804D7CA70A2B/w_CF0CE107FC3C4C044553AD525D09AAD6.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Marie-Clare Lisson</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> Entering BAF Offices Foyer<br><strong>With:</strong> Roland Lisson, Annalie Rachel Lisson.<br><br><hr><br>Today was probably the biggest day of my life. I had been eight when they'd changed the law and Papa had made Maman his slave. Things hadn't actually changed that much in our house though. La Petite Ange du Papa<sup>1</sup> still ruled the house. Me, I mean. I was getting what ever I wanted from the time I was six. I wanted a pony? Papa got me a pony. I wanted a different pony? No problem. The first pony went back and I got the one I wanted. I think I rode it once, fell off and never went near it again. The animal ended up being given to some charity or other.<br><br>About the only thing Papa never gave me was a slave of my own. When I told him I was gay, he smiled indulgently and said of course I was. When he caught me in bed with one of his house slaves, the day after my sixteenth birthday (I'd set it up so he would), he smiled indulgently and let me carrry on, but I never saw that slave again. That annoyed me because she was pretty, and I wanted her.<br><br>Papa bought me my own Porsche Boxter when I was seventeen, and let me drive it around his country estate near Contes. Of course I wanted to drive it on the road, but Papa explained carefully why I couldn't, yet. His reason made sense - I didn't want to be banned from driving when I could do so legally, so I did as he asked.<br><br>But today... ah, today I got two things I was most craving. My drivers licence, but most important of all, my exemption from slavery licence. Maman, as I was still forced to call her until today, came with us. I could see she wasn't happy, and I smiled at that thought.<br><br>Papa aproache the desk and spoke to the man there. "Bonne après midi, Monsieur.<sup>2</sup> I have come to register my daughter as a slave..."<br><br>"What? No! Papa, you promised!"<br><br>"Ha ha ha! Fooled you my angel! No, seriously, here is her licence fee and here is the application form..."<br><br>"Bâtard, papa! Not funny!" I pouted and thumped him on the arm. Not hard, of course. It was not a funny joke at all for me, but Papa seemed to get some small amusement out of it. The bored looking individual behind the desk didn't think it was funny either. He stamped the forms and did what he did, took my photo, my finger prints, DNA, retinal scan, and even a clay mould of my teeth for some unknown reason, and finally after an <em>interminable</em> wait, I was handed a thin plastic card and a sheaf of papers.<br><br>I nodded dutifully at his warning that I was to read those documents carefully because if I didn't it would be my own fault if I broke the terms of my licence. <em>Yeah, yeah, whatever...</em><br><br>But Papa had one other surprise for me. "While we're here, I wish to transfer ownership of one of my slaves to my daughter?" It was funny, but to hear him say those two words, <em>my daughter</em>, sent a sudden thrill through me. I was <em>free!</em> Eighteen and free! I had spotted, as we came in, a girl I knew from school. She, clearly, was not free. Her whole demeanour was of servitude. She seemed to be enjoying it though, which was fine. It was only after a moment that Papa's words sank in. He was giving me a slave? Oooh! Which one, I wondered? The pretty brunette with the big boobs? Or the cute redhead that I hadn't let him catch me fucking because she was my favourite. <br><br>The clerk was explaining that he didn't have to do that here, and Papa was explaining that he knew that, but as he <em>was</em> here, was there any reason why he couldn't? And the Clerk was admitting that, no there wasn't, and tapping details into his computer and Papa was telling him the slave's collar number... And handed me a remote and a deed of ownership. I looked at the name on it and my eyes went wide. "What is this, another joke?"<br><br>"No, my angel. I thought maybe you would like to have her look after you. I have no further use for her and she has always been as fond of you as I have."<br><br>I looked from Papa to Maman, or Maman-cunt as she now was. "Merde!" I spat. But then I smiled a really evil smile. "Okay Papa, I will take Maman-cunt and she will look after me." My eyes slid down over those nice big boobs, that I had suckled at when I was an infant. "I think I will enjoy this..." I reached out and took Maman-cunt's leash from Papa.<br><br>Papa had always been far too lenient with her, allowing her to wear clothing in public, allowing her to walk and stand and sit, allowing her to talk... I sneered at Papa and gave a sharp jerk on the leash. "Get your fucking clothes off, Maman-Cunt. NOW! And don't answer back. Monsieur", I addressed the clerk, "Do you have a gag I could borrow?" The flunky smiled at me indulgently, and I looked at him in horror. "Now, Monsieur, if you please?" My tone of voice told him clearly who was in charge here.<br><br>"Of course, Mam'selle", he stammered and rummaged in a draw, producing a rather nice sized ball with a single strap on it. I snatched it from him, forced the ball into Maman-cunt's mouth and buckled it behind her head. "Now, cunt, undress and then get on your knees."<br><br><hr>1: La Petite Ange du Papa = Daddy's Little Angel<br>2: Bonne après midi, Monsieur = Good afternoon, sir.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>helvorn</strong> on <strong>09-07-2012, 07:27:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i893.photobucket.com/albums/ac134/helvorn/lola_lynn_s1-024.jpg)</div><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">ANNALIE RACHEL LISSON</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office Foyer<br><strong>With:</strong> Her husband and owner Roland Lisson and her daughter Marie-Claire Lisson<br><br>Annalie was in a terrible mood and hid it poorly.&nbsp; She'd loved her daughter, perhaps too much and the girl had ended up a spoiled little bitch.&nbsp; Oh it had started out with the typical mother-daughter clashes; Annalie had fought tooth and nail with her own mother at this age.&nbsp; But Marie-Claire took it to an entirely different level.&nbsp; She'd perfected the skill of playing up to her father, Roland who was also her husband and owner, for favors.&nbsp; The man spoiled her rotten and had increasingly ignored her.&nbsp; They had never been entirely close although Annalie had done her best to give him a good home and help him entertaining his business friends and colleagues.&nbsp; Of course Annalie conveniently ignored her own part in spoiling the child as a preteen in order to play her against her often distant husband.<br><br>As a result Annalie had drifted away from Roland as well as her own daughter over the last three or four years.&nbsp; Of course he fucked her often and hard.&nbsp; Her soft, voluptuous body was just what he liked and she had carefully kept her body tight and attractive under her plush exterior to keep him attracted to her.&nbsp; No, it was not so much her distant relationship with her husband that was upsetting her it was that the bitch of her daughter was getting freed today and probably gifted with some pretty slave girl for her twisted lesbian desires.&nbsp; Marie-Claire thought she was oh so clever in making sure papa caught her with that one bitch.&nbsp; Oh, she'd made sure Roland sold that girl off to a pony farm in South Africa.&nbsp; The last she had heard the woman was branded, tattoo, pierced and 'enhanced' for the pony circuit.&nbsp; Served the little bitch right.&nbsp; Of course Marie-Claire had had other little lovers amongst the house slaves although she thought they were oh so secret.&nbsp; Annalie has said nothing to Roland know that he'd only indulge the little princess even more.<br><br>Well, now that the bitch of her daughter was 18 she'd get her freedom that Roland refused to give her despite years of nagging as well as that damn Porsche.&nbsp; Now as they walked into the BAF office Annalie at least was dressed up in a cute Yves St. Laurent outfit with a nice skirt that showed off her full figure and a low cut blouse that provided an excellent view of her cleavage.&nbsp; She let her mind drift a bit thinking of the party tonight she would give for Roland's firm.&nbsp; It had taken some doing but she had all the details settled.&nbsp; Annalie started and smiled for a moment as Roland stated the Marie-Claire would be enslaved but she settled back as he indicated it was a joke.&nbsp; Served her right...<br><br>Annalie shook her head and started to turn away as Marie-Claire received her card and paperwork.&nbsp; So she was free... paugh.&nbsp; She'd do something stupid within the month and be thrown into the BAF cunt holding pens as a slave if there was any justice.&nbsp; When Roland offered to gift her with one of his slaves, Annalie's ears perked up.&nbsp; It would probably be that red headed cunt that Marie-Claire liked to work on at night.&nbsp; Then she frowned as he recited a collar number.&nbsp; That sounds familiar...<br><br>Annalie gasped in horror about the same time as Marie-Claire read the name on the deed.&nbsp; No!&nbsp; He couldn't.&nbsp; Annalie stood shocked looking from her husband/owner to her daughter and back.&nbsp; "No, darling, how could you.&nbsp; Not to her!&nbsp; I'm her mother for gods sake!"&nbsp; Roland only laughed as he handed the leash to Marie-Claire.&nbsp; "I'm done with you.&nbsp; You're useful but I can get another cunt or two to do my entertaining and suck my cock.&nbsp; It's time for a bit of quality mother-daughter time I think."&nbsp; Laughing he ignored her pleas and walked off whistling.<br><br>She tried to make another plea her head was jerked around by Marie-Claire and she glared at her daughter.&nbsp; Meanwhile, several of the BAF officials had gathered, drawn by Annalie's raised voice and the tension between the three family members.&nbsp; Annalie spit at the ground in front of her bitch daughter "No, you'll respect your..."&nbsp; and was she was shocked in the ass by a tall, burly man with a slave prod.&nbsp; "Ahhhgggghhhh...&nbsp; ooohhhhhh..." Annalie wavered and fell to her knees before being prodded again and then picked up roughly by a guard.&nbsp; Her eyes were a bit frightened as she looked at Marie-Claire and nodded.<br><br>Taking off her clothing piece by piece she stood nude and voluptuous in front of the assembled office staff and her leering daughter.&nbsp; She choked as the ball gag was shoved in her mouth, the taste of rubber and the pressure on her mouth foreign as Roland had never gagged her during their years of marriage and ownership.&nbsp; Shaking she knelt before her daughter.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>09-07-2012, 14:45:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/30/Marie-Claire_avatar_01.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Marie-Clare Lisson</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Offices Foyer, then the car park outside.<br><strong>With:</strong> Maman-cunt, Roland Lisson.<br><br><hr><br>Maman-cunt really was very stupid to try and resist right here in the BAF offices. I mean, seriously, these are the people who enslave women. They aren't going to show any sympathy whatever to a slave. And I was a free woman, with a lot of money and influential friends. They were required to help me with my new slave. <br><br>I slapped her in the face, hard, with the end of the leash, then whacked her rather ample titties with it too. "Thank you all very much, gentlemen. I shall return the gag as soon as I have acquired a suitable replacement. Come, Maman-cunt. Papa has been far too lenient with you. It's time you learned what being a slave is all about." I led her out of the office, making sure she stayed on all fours with a slap at her magnificent backside, to where, outside in the parking lot, a flat-bed lorry was unloading a car that looked awfully familiar, under Papa's supervision.<br><br>"Oh Papa, thank you!" I quickly hooked Maman-cunt's leash to one of the hooks provided for slaves and rushed over to embrace him. "But how do I get Maman-cunt home?"<br><br>Papa flinched slightly when I said those two words. I knew why. He never really approved of the slavery laws, and I guess he still cared for Maman-cunt, which was why he gave her to me. He had always called her Anna. Like I said, he was far too soft on her. The car was now on the tarmac and being unhooked, and Papa handed me the keys. "Open the boot", he told me. I did so. The boot on a Porsche Boxster is really tiny, but Papa had obviously been planning ahead. Since having the car, I think I'd opened the luggage compartment at the back once. Sinse then, Papa had been busy. The inside was lined with soft memory foam and covered with a nice tickly fauxfur. There was an anal plug and a catheter, a water bottle and an air tube. The memory foam was pre-shaped into a depression of a rough female form curled into a foetal position. Obviously with use it would take on Maman-cunt's exact shape.<br><br>"Perfact, Papa!" I kissed him on the mouth and ran to get my slave. I had to all but drag her across he parking lot, whacking her behind, because she'd seen what was going on. "Maman-cunt, either you get in, or I will have the men from the BAF put you in!" I told her. I honestly didn't mind either way.<br><br>As soon as she was in place, air mask on her face - I noticed that the air came from a small vent in the boot lid, so no need for an expensive air bottle, water tube fed past her gag, catheter inserted, to drain out of the floor of the car, and butt plug in to keep her from making a mess, I gave her a kiss on the cheek and closed the lid, locking it. "See you at Dinner, Papa". I climbed in and started the engine.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>helvorn</strong> on <strong>10-07-2012, 08:14:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i893.photobucket.com/albums/ac134/helvorn/lola_lynn_s1-024.jpg)</div><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">ANNALIE RACHEL LISSON</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office Foyer<br><strong>With:</strong> Roland Lisson and the bitch Marie-Claire Lisson her daughter and owner<br><br>I grimaced with pain but more really with the humiliation of it as Marie-Claire slapped my face.&nbsp; I yelped as she hit my breasts.&nbsp; I'd always been large and voluptuous but the last three years of a special diet as well as constant breast enhancement treatments had made my chest particularly large, firm and sensitive.&nbsp; Roland and I had loved tittie play in bed; tit fucking and all manner of fun with my breasts.&nbsp; Now, the lash of the leather leash was showing the dark side of such large and tender orbs.&nbsp; My pale skin reddened under the blows and my nipples hardened and grew reluctantly erect under the press of the breeze and the effects of the lash.&nbsp; <br><br>Crawling on my hands and knees I felt exposed, my asshole and pussy were in plain view between my rounded, jiggling ass cheeks.&nbsp; My full figure jiggled seductively as I struggled to keep up with Marie-Claire.&nbsp; I jerked involuntarily as my hands and knees were skinned and reddened by the rough pavement which earned me a brutal jerk.&nbsp; Almost pulled off my feet by the strength of my daughter I choked and scrambled to keep up.<br><br>I knelt quietly for a moment as the bitch, my daughter ran up and looked at the car my traitor of a husband had bought her.&nbsp; I thought he... was devoted to me and would never do this but some twisted family loyalty made him offer me up to this harridan of a daughter.&nbsp; At the sight of the little prison built into the boot of the Porsche I groaned in the gag and stood to get away.&nbsp; I had always had a strong fear of enclosed spaces and there was no way I was going to climb in that little prison.&nbsp; I would sooner die than be confined like that for who knows how long!<br><br>This of course earned me a shock from one of the BAF enforcers directly behind me.&nbsp; I screamed and fell back to my knees as Marie-Claire came over and jerked me onto my face, spanking my plump, reddening ass and dragging me bodily across the parking lot.&nbsp; I managed to get to my hand and knees again and yanked back at her.&nbsp; This earned me a flurry of shocks until I was laying drooling on the ground, leaking piss as my bladder had let go under their assault.&nbsp; The BAF men dumped a bucket of water on me and injected me with a stimulant used to keep slaves wide awake and jittery during training sessions where they might be inclined to pass out from pain.<br><br>Climbing in a wobbly fashion back to my knees I groaned and reluctantly climbed into the tight coffin prepared for me.&nbsp; My body was a mass of cramps and pain, my head wrapped in cotton and hazy with the after affects of the shock.&nbsp; The faux fur was ticklish and itchy and the memory foam confining but soft and gently conforming to my body.&nbsp; I had to curl up into a tight, fetal ball to fit in the boot and already my heart rate began to rise as my predicament overcame my shocked mind.&nbsp; Then I squealed as Marie-Claire shoved a well lubricated anal plug up my back hole.&nbsp; I jerked and struggled to climb out as Marie-Clair pushed me back down even as one of the BAF enforcers again shocked me.&nbsp; Slumping back I cried in pain, fear and humiliation as my ass was plundered by the plug.&nbsp; Roland knew that I was utterly opposed to anal sex and other than a few drunken shots up my rear passage I was untouched for my entire life.&nbsp; Sobbing more heavily I jerked and cringed as the mask was placed over my mouth and nose and the catheter fed up my urethra.&nbsp; <br><br>With a scream from me the boot was closed and I was locked in the darkness.&nbsp; My fear swept in and claimed me and I began to jerk and pound futilely as the memory foam encased me and absorbed my every attempt to claw my way out of this coffin.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>10-07-2012, 22:14:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/89/Marie-Claire_avatar_02.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Marie-Clare Lisson</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Parking lot<br><strong>With:</strong> Maman-cunt, Boxstey.<br><br><hr><br>I left Papa to deal with thanking and tipping the BAF thugs who had helped me get Maman-cunt into the car. I'm sure he did his usual thing, but as far as I was concerned they were doing their jobs. Papa paid for them out of his taxes and that was that. I could hear some muffled noise coming from the car boot, but I gunned the engine and the wonderful thoroughbred roar soon drowned them out. Maman-cunt would have to get used to travelling in there, because I was going to be spending a lot of time in this car in the weeks to come and Maman-cunt would be travelling with me.<br><br>I slipped the car into gear, and with a blown kiss at Papa, I dumped the clutch, squealing the tyres, and shot out of the BAF parking lot, onto the open road (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=142203.msg6569425#msg6569425).
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>01-08-2012, 12:00:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/KarinAvatar_04.jpg)<br><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font">KARIN LECONTE</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> At home/BAF office registration suite<br><strong>With:</strong> Master/With several NPC BAF employees<br><br>When my new Master slipped my first ever collar about my neck in front of the mirror by our front door I gazed at the simple circle of black leather and it’s bright steel buckle as though it were an angel’s halo. As he touched my shoulders and my hair and the tight band was closed by his fingers around my neck I let out a sigh of complete happiness. I loved him so much, and by keeping me and making me his slave, he was demonstrating his love for me. The collar was the physical mark of his love and, therefore, I loved it. It’s slightly coarse edge that cut against my skin, its tightness just choking me a little and that leash that connected my throat to his hand, a physical and spiritual ownership. ‘This is my slave; my property.’ I so adored papa and wanted <em>so badly</em> to demonstrate my love in serving him however he asked.<br><br>As he connected the leash its leather hand loop dropped down, the chain falling between my up-thrust tits to sting me as it fell against the soft bald mound of my cunt. I shivered a moment as his knuckles grazed against me there as he took up the leash in his hand. The fact he was touching me, his daughter, in such intimate places made me a little afraid and worried.<br><br>I was his slave. I must obey everything he ordered and I must allow him to touch me anywhere… do anything to me. I turned these conflicting things over in my head one more time but then relaxed. I knew he would take his bodily pleasure from a slut-wife he’d buy, perhaps later today from that expensive store, or perhaps later in the week when I had excited him with my body so much that he had to have satisfaction. No. He wouldn’t do it with his daughter, dear papa was too fine and proper a person for incest.<br><br>As we stood in the hallway by the door he addressed me and gave me some instructions. When he had finished I bowed my head. His instructions did not specifically need a reply but as they were so intimate I thought it best that I should, so I bowed my head a little and spoke.<br><br><strong>“Merci beaucoup Maître.”</strong><br><br>He opened the door, we stepped out. My hands rested in the small of my back. My wonderfully tall heels clicked loudly on the cool marble-tiled floor of the corridor. In the lift we rode down in silence though I was sure my thundering heart was loud enough to be heard in the street. I was so nervous! My entire life had been building up to this moment! The first public appearance of a new slave beside her master. It was so important and in my head I heard my teacher’s admonitions and guidance as though it were yesterday.<br><br><div align="center"><strong>~ * * * ~</strong></div><br>“A slave <em>is</em> her Master. She reflects upon him; her faults are his faults. In public where others see her, especially his family, friends and business associates, she must behave and obey perfectly, instantly and willingly. She must give evidence to everyone around her that she delights in obeying his every order, no matter what it might be. She must be filled with genuine joy.”<br><br>“Karin Leconte, what is a slave’s duty?” The teacher, Monsieur Bruille, had asked.<br><br>“To obey, Monsieur.”<br><br>“And what else?” he continued.<br><br>“To delight in being obedient.”<br><br>“Good girl. That is the correct answer, but why is this important?”<br><br>“Because the slave reflects on her Master. His taste, his status, his breeding, his values, his style. If she does not obey, or obeys slowly, her poor performance is a bad reflection on him.”<br><br>“Also correct. Good girl. Come to the front of class and strip, I will use you to give the girls a series of posture demonstrations.” When Monsieur Bruille made a girl come to front of class and strip naked, he got very animated and became an intense teacher. He had a class full of thirty sixteen year old slaves-in-training to teach, so it was to be expected that he got excited some days.<br><br>I remembered that exhilarating day, almost two years ago, when an innocent but eager-to-please sixteen year old Karin had first been selected in front of her whole class to remove all her clothes except for her high heels and her hold-up stockings and to pose nude to demonstrate several slave postures – lacing my hands behind my neck; putting my arms behind my back and walking up and down the aisles between the desks; kneeling, my knees parted and my mouth open. Monsieur Bruille had of course filmed me, the video would be used in other classes. I had been so excited I had got wet and my glistening excitement on my legs and my bullet hard nipples had earned me five extra bonus marks. That was a happy day!<br><br><div align="center"><strong>~ * * * ~</strong></div><br>There was a soft judder and a clunk of machinery that brought me back to the present. The lift doors opened, Master stepping out. I stepped after him, moving to keep two paces behind and to keep the leash slack. <em>Ticky-tick-ticky-tick,</em> went my heels, loud enough to turn heads. My bare breasts bounced so much as I walked, swaying slightly from side to side, their liquid firmness feeling alive on my ribcage and yet so vulnerable too. I loved that feeling of vulnerability and exposure and it was the way I had arched my back and thrust my young breasts out (in those days much smaller than they are now) that had so pleased Monsieur Bruille. I had been a 33B back then. How pleased he would be today to see my 34Ds bouncing proudly down the street.<br><br><em>The slave honours her Master,</em> I said inside my head, <em>Her instant obedience and style and beauty reflects not on her, but on him.</em><br><br>The doors of the apartment block opened and from his side office the concierge, Monsieur Dupont, put a finger to his black peaked cap in salute to Papa. I felt so proud feeling his gaze on me, him seeing my body in profile and enjoying it.<br><br>The warm morning sun hit me and my thundering heart beat even faster as the fresh air moved against my skin. Gods… I was so excited! My nipples were like pebbles, my cunt was wet. What my master was doing to me was turning me on terribly. Drivers of cars, passengers of busses, cyclists, pedestrians, shop keepers… all were staring and pointing. Naked slaves were rarely photographed in public any more, they were so commonplace. Men saw bare women every day, everywhere; bound, being spanked or whipped, and even giving sexual favours in public. Nothing was a novelty these days. Yet my heart swelled with pride as I saw more than a few camera phones take pictures and video of me. Was I really that pretty? If I was then it was all papa’s achievement to bring me up wanting to be pretty for him!<br><br>I was so happy and so exhilarated and so aroused! I was soaking wet already! Men would surely smell me, the scent of fresh young slave, horny and ready to be used. It was just a tragedy that I would not be used that way, for dear papa would not touch me and I doubted he would give me to others to be used, he had expressly kept me a virgin for his own reasons which he had not revealed to me but I did not let these things concern me, I was just a little unhappy that I would doubtless not be given to any man and so my only pleasure would be my own fingers.<br><br>But then…! Oh! If I did that… I couldn’t could I? It was against the rules. “No slave may pleasure herself or seek pleasure without the express permission of her Master or whosoever her Master has given her to.” That was a rule we learned early in our classes. But dear papa would never want to watch me touch myself would he? No. he wasn’t a pervert like that. So how…? How would I ever have pleasure? Maybe I wouldn’t? I then realised that that in itself was a pleasure – to be constantly horny and desperate for cock and never have one, to be a virgin slave all my life! Wow! That <em>would</em> be something! That would be intense. How could a slave concentrate if she desired only cocks all the time, wanting to cum yet never be allowed to? A slave would go insane wouldn’t she?<br><br>This jumble of girlish thoughts filled my head as we crossed the street, <em>ticky-ticky-tick-ticky</em>, my shoes clicking faster as papa strode out between the traffic. On the other side was the newspaper seller that papa always bought his paper from, Monsieur Cevert, ancient and almost blind, but a kind man and always cheerful.<br><br>Papa bought his paper and then told the old man that he had someone he wanted him to meet. The old fellow turned to me, sensing I was there from the sounds and scents of me.<br><br><strong><em>“Ah! Is this your daughter?”</em></strong> he asked. His watery small eyes turned on me. I am sure they widened a little!<br><br>I stepped forwards, nervous as anything, my heart pounding. Keeping my arms behind me I dipped down in a neat curtsey and bowed my head also.<br><br><strong>“Bonjour Monsieur Cevert. This slut wishes you a good morning. Monsieur Leconte is this slut’s papa and Master. Today is this slut’s eighteenth birthday, and she is terribly happy because her Master has chosen to enslave her.”</strong> My heart was bursting with pride at speaking my first sentences in public, using the style that the teachers at school had said was the most appropriate way for slaves to address others.<br><br><strong>“This slut is pleased to let you know that her Master wants you to look at her, so please stare at her body in any way you wish. Please ask her to pose for you in any way you want so that you can see her body fully.”</strong> As I spoke I turned slowly, having taken my arms from behind me to raise them up and press the knuckles together, palms open, stretched above my head, my soft smooth armpits and the curving sides of my tits now exposed to the old man’s gaze.<br><br><strong><em>“Mon Dieu! Formidable! Oui, oui, tres bien! Just face me again, child,”</em></strong> the newspaper seller said, clearly delighted by the vision before him. I did so instantly, keeping my arms fully raised.<br><br><strong>“Please, Monsieur, this slut’s Master wishes you to touch her. If there is any place on her body… any place <em>at all</em>, that you would like to touch or play with, please say so and this slut will happily offer herself for your examination.”</strong><br><br>The old man surprised me by reaching out his hands and with his dry fingertips tracing my hairline, brows, nose, cheeks, jaw, lips and chin. He coughed and chuckled.<br><br><strong><em>“Ah. Such a beauty. A beautiful face. Young girls are so pretty! It is a long time since I had one this beautiful, but in my youth! Ah yes! 'Casanova Cevert' they called me! And… ah-ha!”</em></strong> He coughed again and his fingers slid down my armpits to find the curving sides of my tits and then he reached to cup and grip them, being none too gentle. His crooked thumbs ran over my nipples and I let out a sigh at the wonderful sensation. I wondered if he would put his head down and lick and suck them. I wanted him to, I needed a man to touch me so badly! However, he didn't. He contented himself with playing with my tits for a few minutes and chuckling, saying they were real beauties and that in his youth he had milked the family cow on his grandfather’s farm and now that he was too old and too poor to afford a slave girl of his own it was a pity he could not milk me.<br><br><strong><em>“I hear they have drugs now, to make pretty girls give milk, even before they have children. Ah, yes, </em></strong>[cough-cough]<strong><em> it would be grand to milk these fine udders! These scientists today, so clever!”</em></strong> With a final clutching grasp and a rub at my nipples he let me go.<br><br><strong><em>“Good day to you, Monsieur Leconte, please come again, I’ll have your paper tomorrow!”</em></strong><br><br>I curtseyed again and thanked him for touching me and then papa led me away.<br><br>I was so happy!<br><br>At the end of the Quai Jean-Charles Rey was the grocery stand where I went to get papa his fruit some days, and our vegetables for cooking. Monsieur Mongolfier owned it. He was black and colossal, like some ancient warrior of Rome, an African slave-gladiator perhaps. I knew he used to be an athlete but had suffered an injury in training for the Olympics a few years ago and had never run again. He must have to work hard in a gym to keep his huge muscles in good shape. I licked my lips. Monsieur Mongolfier would have a giant cock. I was sure of it. I had seen plenty of videos of slave training at school and when the teachers wanted to show how a slave needed to handle a big cock, in her mouth, in her cunt or up her ass, they always used black actors. Some of them… <em>Mon Dieu!</em> as Monsieur Cevert would say. Huge! A foot long and over two inches thick! I wondered how a girl could take such a massive object into her small body! Some of those videos though... where the big black men took the girls in their bottoms... the moans and cries they made! I remember putting my hand between my legs while watching those videos. Haha, we all did! One day I wanted to cry in agony from a big man taking me that way!<br><br>Once again, papa said hello and bought a bag of tangerines to have in his office fruit bowl for the day. He then commanded me to introduce myself and this time, with more trepidation but no less eagerness, I curtseyed and spoke my piece. This time I added more smiles and sensual looks with my eyes. I cursed myself that I had not been quite so sensuous with the newspaper seller but his eyesight was bad. Then again I would not know whether the men I offered my body to were completely blind or had the eyesight of a watchmaker, and for that mistake I chided myself. I should offer and display my body as sensuously as I could to every man papa told me to, no matter who it was.<br><br>For Monsieur Mongolfier I pulled out all the stops and behaved in my most alluring way, yet spoke in an innocent tone, a style I discovered right then and there excited men very much. A pretty young slave with a beautiful body and a sweet innocent voice and demeanour yet being forced to behave in a filthy slutty manner turned men on the most. It was like a law of nature.<br><br><strong>“Monsieur Mongolfier, this slut wishes you a good day. Monsieur Leconte is this slut’s papa. Today is this slut’s eighteenth birthday, and she is terribly happy because her papa has chosen to enslave her and become her Master! This slut is very pleased that her Master wants you to look at her body in any way you want. Please ask her to pose for you so that you can see any part of her body in any way you want.”</strong><br><br><strong><em>“Oh yes! What a body! Leconte, you old hawk! She’s magnificent! You lucky bastard, having this little tramp at your beck and call naked round the house all day! Look at that fuckin’ ass! Bend over bitch, right now. Palms flat on the floor and spread your legs wide! Ah yes, what a fine cunt! She’s wet too!”</em></strong><br><br>I instantly turned and bent over, school had taught me to be very fit and supple, so even with my heels raised six inches, it was easy to plant my palms flat on the stone kerb and shift my ankles three feet apart. I felt my sopping wet cunt pulled wide open and fresh cool air on the pucker of my anus.<br><br><strong>“Please, Monsieur, this slut’s Master wishes you to touch her.”</strong> I offered sexily from my position with my head lowered. <br><br><strong>“If there is any place on her body… -ahn!- Any place <em>at all</em>, that you would like to touch or play with... please... -mmm- say so and this slut will happily offer herself for your uh-examination.”</strong><br><br>I got only as far as ‘…any place on her body…’ and his huge meaty hands cupped and fondled my soft behind, pat-patting my cheeks and giving them playful but heavy slaps so they bounced for him. I carried on speaking, my voice a little wavering but obediently completing the speech I was ordered to make. The black giant’s thumbs pressed to my anus and explored a little, then one of them dipped between my lips and I gasped in delight. He scooped up a smear of my liquid and returned the thumb to my anus, working it in.<br><br>God! It felt so good! His thumb was huge and as I stretched and gave way and he forced it in I gave a small wail of pain and delight, panting and gasping at the thickness of the invading digit. My first time! Ever! The first time a man had entered my body in any way!<br><br><strong><em>“Damn. So tight. Like a vice. What a lovely daughter you have Monsieur Leconte. I’m envious. I’m also stupid! Why did I come and help my family run this place when I should have applied to be a slave-ed teacher? Maybe I should. It’d be mighty fine to have a class of cunts like this to teach.”</em></strong><br><br>His thumb withdrew and I gasped again, though the second little cry was more one of frustration that the painful stretching had stopped.<br><br><strong><em>“Up, cunt,”</em></strong> the grocer said. <strong><em>“Turn round.”</em></strong><br><br>He gave me his thumb to suck clean and I did so slowly and sensuously, using my wide innocent eyes to make love to him as well, treating his thumb like it was the finest cock in the world. He stared at me and I wondered if he was getting hard. I bet he was.<br><br>Papa led me on, along the quaysides around Fontvielle Harbour, the sun falling delightfully on my body, people still staring, then up streets and steps away from Monaco’s southern marina and up the sloping roads and steps to Monaco-Ville, the oldest part of town. We went past the Palais Princier, home of Prince Albert with its smart armed policemen in their white caps at the gates. Their eyes fixed straight ahead flicked to me as we went by. I gave them a wink and a lick of my lips and wiggled my rear more as I swayed up the hill in my tall heels, enjoying the feel of their gazes on my legs and behind.<br><br>I enjoyed a third display to a policeman who was on duty at the traffic island outside the BAF office. His name was Foch and he spent even longer than Monsieur Cevert playing with my tits. He seemed to be delighted with my nipples especially and he rolled and pinched them hard, tugging on them and making me gasp in pain. He even put his mouth to one and sucked it. I let out a small moan, not just to please him and show him the slut he was attending to was responding to his attentions but also because it really did feel good to have a man’s mouth on that part of my aching body. I had enjoyed girls kissing and sucking them in school when we used to practice on each other but this was the first time any man had licked my nipples. It felt wonderful and my moan of pleasure was genuine.<br><br>We finally got to papa’s office. Poor me! I was so ready for a cock I was almost begging for it, although I remembered all my schooling in behaving the right way for the fat official who took me downstairs.<br><br><div align="center"><strong>~ * * * ~</strong></div><br>The rest of the registration examination was a blur to me. I was made to walk, then run naked on a treadmill in my tall heels, my arms held behind me, the man in the white coat with the big nose filming me all the time as my tits bounced in every direction. He set up his tripod to film me directly face-on for about ten minutes as I jogged, then a similar time from the side. I wondered why the BAF would need such long recordings but a slave isn't there to question things. I worked on a rowing machine and I lifted weights and lay on a bench press as well. I sat on a cycle and worked away until I was sweating. I breathed into a lung-capacity bag. The doctor gave me a Venus tablet before all of these exercises and of course the workout raised my heart rate and got the blood – and the drug – pumping around my body so that when I was finished it was hard to obey their orders. I was <em>so</em> horny! I would have fucked a dog if one had been offered to me, right then. All of the men, regardless of how ugly or fat or smelly they were, made me want to suck their cocks and offer my cunt to them to use! I would have willingly let the dirtiest Paris tramp have me I was so in need of cock! I needed it so bad! My slick juices were running down my thighs.<br><br>The doctor then examined my body for Venus response and was apparently delighted in how hard my nipples were and how much slave-juice was running down my legs. The man turned to his colleagues and chuckled.<br><br><strong><em>“The little tramp’s off the scale. I don’t have a box to tick marked ‘filthy nympho’. Look at her clit! It’s sticking out a centimetre, like a tiny dick!”</em></strong> The others laughed. I was very proud!<br><br><strong><em>“Her owner should put a ring behind her clit head and lead her around by it!”</em></strong> Said the fat man. The very idea of that made me feel faint. The constant pleasure would be intense.<br><br>Everything was finally complete. I was wiped down like a horse, with a cool damp towel and Weasel-Face unbuckled the plain leather collar and slipped around my neck the standard collar with its smart shiny steel panel. He typed some settings for it into his keyboard and then printed off the document of registration, slipping it into a clear plastic wallet.<br><br>Weasel-Face led me to the door. Through the glass I knew Master was waiting. I had seen him arrive and all the workers leave while I was on the treadmill.<br><br>Weasel-Face clipped a leash to my collar and opened the door. He politely offered my papa the completed forms to sign and when that was done, he retained one copy for the BAF files and gave papa the original, in its plastic sleeve. He then handed the leash over.<br><br><strong><em>“It passed with flying colours, Monsieur Leconte. I can’t comment on the DMV yet, the computer needs to give the final figure but that will be added to the Slave Logbook and these will be posted to your address within two business days. Please?”</em></strong> He offered the leash, <strong><em>“Your property Sir, have a pleasant time owning it.”</em></strong><br><br>It was official! I was papa’s slave! I had never been so happy. I smiled up at him, beaming in delight and uncontrollably randy! I had to use most of my training to not beg for a cock right there and then.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vin26m</strong> on <strong>05-08-2012, 02:03:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/ConstantLeconte13_Avatar.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Constant Leconte</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Office<br><strong>With:</strong> Karin Leconte, his daughter, various BAF employees<br><br><strong>"Merci, Monsieur Moreau.&nbsp; I will be sure to enjoy this filthy slut to the utmost."</strong><br><br>The BAF official in charge of the registration for Karin handed me the plastic sleeve containing the paperwork in one hand and the end of leash in the other.<br><br>The fat one walked out next, sneaking in one last peek at Karin through his glasses after all the groping he did of her body.<br><br>I cleared my throat to get his attention.<br><br><strong>"Monsieur Garros...&nbsp; I assigned you the task of safeguarding my daughter's virginity.&nbsp; You performed adequately.&nbsp; I have another task for you.&nbsp; See all this cunt juice, leaking out from between this wanton harlot's thighs, dripping down her legs, pooling up between her feet and making a trail behind her?&nbsp; Get it cleaned up.&nbsp; I don't want someone slipping and hurting himself."</strong><br><br>Fatso nodded in understanding and went to the closet marked "Custodian."&nbsp; Inside was a slave wrapped from head to toe in black latex.&nbsp; Openings over her eyes, ears and mouth were closed with zippers.&nbsp; Thick, white mop-like tendrils of yarn were coming out of her hood, and the word "mop" was written across her chest.<br><br>She couldn't see, hear or smell anything.&nbsp; She choked a bit when fattie jerked the stiff rod acting as a leash and pulled her out of the closet.&nbsp; He opened up the zipper over her mouth.&nbsp; Thoroughly trained in her tasks as an implement for washing floors, she licked her lips and stuck out her tongue, ready to serve.&nbsp; Garros guided her mouth over Karin's nectar, the taste of which the mop-cunt recognized, then eagerly licked and slurped up as if she were given a reward.&nbsp; It was a whole new meaning to "mopping the floor with someone," but even more humiliating than just getting a higher score or quicker victory.<br><br>The camera man with the big nose looked like he wanted to film the whole thing.<br><br><strong>"Monsieur Nez, quit standing around and get to work.&nbsp; I want that footage edited and sent up to my office before the end of the day.&nbsp; I will personally be analyzing and approving it at home tonight.&nbsp; It had better be your best work.&nbsp; I want close-ups, slow motion, fast motion, everything.&nbsp; It better show this cunt in all her whoreness in the most favorable way, or it will be back to recording birthday parties for you!&nbsp; Now go!"</strong><br><br>I looked down at Karin as she stood before me.&nbsp; All of my life's work, helping develop slave-ed curriculum, adminstrating for the BAF, raising her... and finally she was mine to do as I pleased with.&nbsp; Even though I just got sucked off by my secretary, I felt myself growing aroused again as Karin's pheromones filled my nose and the sight of her nubile body burned into my retinas.&nbsp; <br><br>I slapped the plastic sleeve into her tits and had her hold it against her chest for me.&nbsp; I released the leash and let it hang down as I cupped her face in my hands tenderly and firmly.&nbsp; I looked into her eyes.<br><br><strong>"You belong to me now.&nbsp; You are my property.&nbsp; I own you.&nbsp; You are my most prized possession.&nbsp; I am still your papa and you are still my daughter, but now I am also your master and you are my slave."</strong><br><br>I kissed her forehead then ran my hands down to her shoulders and upper arms, my thumbs pointing toward the center line of her body, brushing up against her stiff nipples.<br><br><strong>"I will make you do things for me.&nbsp; You will please me any way I wish.&nbsp; I will reward you when you make me proud.&nbsp; I will punish you when you disappoint me.&nbsp; But no matter how much I make you feel good or how much I hurt you or how much I make you cry in pleasure or scream in pain, I will always love you."</strong><br><br>I grabbed a fistful of hair on the back of her head, and used it to have her walk with me to another room in the basement of the BAF office.&nbsp; It was marked "Training Room 1."&nbsp; There was a BAF slave already there, waiting for me, waiting for us.<br><br>She was one of my favorite slaves to train.&nbsp; I could have passed her on to one of the slave trading houses long ago, but I kept finding excuses to keep her around.&nbsp; It's always better to overtrain a slave.&nbsp; I would hate for one of the trading houses to get a slave that was less than obedient.<br><br>This paricular slave looked like my daughter, except shorter, chubbier, with smaller tits, a fatter ass, a somewhat asymmetrical face, skin with spots and other flaws.&nbsp; Not a very high DMV.&nbsp; Karin was perfect, and this slave was a less attractive version.<br><br>She was set up in some nice predicament bondage, kneeling in the middle of the room, sitting on a wooden horse, having her ankles anchored to the floor.&nbsp; <br><br>If she relaxed, her weight was on the narrow curved top of the wooden horse pushing against her cunt, clit and ass.&nbsp; <br><br>If she kneeled more upright, her body moved up and forced her mouth higher up toward the machine fucker mounted above her, which was pushing a dildo down her throat and pulling back up repeatedly.&nbsp; <br><br>She was constantly shifting between hurting her own cunt or getting her throat fucked deeper.&nbsp; The room was filled with the clackey-clacking sound of the machine and the gags and chokes of the dildo raping her face.<br><br>Her arms were behind her, parallel to the floor, shackled to a chain going to the ceiling.&nbsp; Her nipples had weights clamped to them, and the movement of the machine made the weights swing.&nbsp; When she saw me enter out of the corner of her eye, she had a bit of relief on her face.<br><br>I turned off the machine fucker, let it slow down to stillness, and moved it away.&nbsp; I pushed the wooden horse out from between her legs, letting her relax without the pain on her sex or in her throat.<br><br>Tears were going down her cheeks and saliva was dripping off her chin as she coughed.&nbsp; I undid the clamps on her nipples and gave her a moment to pull herself together before I broke her down again.&nbsp; She did look kind of like Karin, and seeing this slave that way helped make my dreams of using and abusing my own flesh and blood seem a bit more real.&nbsp; I wondered if Karin saw the resemblance and drew the conclusion.&nbsp; <br><br>The bound slave was sobbing and whimpering, but not making too much noise.&nbsp; She knew that I would use the whips or riding crops on her if she did, and I loved seeing the look of pain on her face as blood and sensation returned to her tortured nipples.<br><br>I spoke to my daughter.&nbsp; <strong>"It's time to see what your father and master does at work, cunt.&nbsp; Right now, I'm training this slave, getting her ready for the trading house.&nbsp; Since it makes me so hard to hurt her, I'm going to fuck her like the slut she is.&nbsp; First, she's going to suck me off and get me harder and covered in her drool.&nbsp; Usually I fuck her dry, but today I'm going to see if all those lessons in eating cunt you took paid off.&nbsp; Lie down between her legs, slave, and get her ready to get fucked by your master.&nbsp; If you do a good job, I might let that cunt between your legs get a reward."</strong><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>13-08-2012, 12:58:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/KarinAvatar_04.jpg)<br><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font">KARIN LECONTE</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Training Rooms<br><strong>With:</strong> Master and an NPC public slave<br><br>I had visited Master’s office a few times, but that had been when he had worked in the education board some time before, and once in the older BAF office in Nice, near where we’d lived. I had never had the chance though, to see him in his new job and see him give orders. He was terribly strict and bossy and it excited me to have a Master who was so powerful a man, ordering his employees around like they were slaves too. It felt odd to see men given orders to other men, when all my life in school I was used to seeing men give orders to girls.<br><br>I loved how he referred to me, calling me all those sexy names we’d been taught in school; “filthy slut”, “wanton harlot”, “cunt”, “whore”. I adored the names, I adored the very words themselves – they were words a slave celebrated! Such beautiful perfect words, so richly descriptive of what I now was! I wanted to press my thighs together and rub myself, those words excited me so much, but a slave was always forbidden to close her legs. They must always remain parted; her knees and ankles should never touch unless a Master bound them together. <br>&nbsp;<br>My eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the mop and how the chubby man held the rigid handle at her neck that he used to push and pull to guide her mouth across the areas of floor where my slave juice had dripped in little clear droplets. The anonymous rubber-coated mop-slave eagerly licked everything up and shocked though I was, she obviously enjoyed being a simple tool.<br><br>When the technician who had filmed me was dismissed, Master turned to me. He looked into my eyes and I looked happily up at him, making big puppy-eyes and begging silently to be of some service for him, to be made use of in some way.<br><br>“An idle slave is a waste of her Master’s money and time. Be of use at all times, in any way, no matter how small.” Monsieur Bruille’s teaching was loud in my head.<br><br>Then I was given my first ever task! Master slapped my own registration document against my tits and I moved one hand to hold it there, the other remaining behind me. He cupped my face in his hands and stared deep into my eyes. The moment was intense. <br><br><strong><em>"You belong to me now. You are my property. I own you. You are my most prized possession. I am still your papa and you are still my daughter, but now I am also your master and you are my slave."</em></strong><br><br>I said nothing and made no sound as he tenderly kissed my forehead and ran his warm firm caring hands down my upper arms. The size of my tits meant his thumbs grazed my nipples.<br><br><strong><em>"I will make you do things for me. You will please me any way I wish. I will reward you when you make me proud. I will punish you when you disappoint me. But no matter how much I make you feel good or how much I hurt you or how much I make you cry in pleasure or scream in pain, I will always love you."</em></strong><br><br>I stared into one of his eyes, then flicked my view to the other, then back again, not knowing behind which eye lay the real heart of this amazing man, my Master.<br><br><strong>“Oui, Maître. Merci beaucoup, Maître.”</strong> I answered, gratefully, <strong>“This cunt will delight in anything her Master does to her, or wants from her. Anything at all.”</strong><br><br>I grunted in pain as he suddenly grabbed my hair and then marched me down a corridor, around a couple of turnings and into another room, my tall heels clicking rapidly as I trotted to keep up with him. I didn’t understand why he grippe dmy hair this way. It hurt but it wasn’t a slave’s place to know or understand her Master’s motivations. The room we entered was bare and stark with plain concrete walls, covered with a simple coat of whitewash and a pair of bare light bulbs that cast a harsh bright light. There was little equipment, just a table and a wooden chair to one side. I knew of these rooms, all BAF offices had them. When at school we had gone on a tour to the main BAF office in Nice. These were the training rooms where young girls were brought – or even older women whose freedom licences had expired – to be trained into obedient slaves. Those like me who had gone through the school system usually needed little training, though a few had to have their wills broken. It was the once-free older women who suffered most in these places. When we had gone on the school trip to Nice there had been a woman of about thirty in one of the rooms, bent backwards over a horizontal bar, her ankles bound to the ends of a long leg-spreader that was anchored to the floor and her arms dragged down behind her, elbows cruelly bound together, the ropes that bound her wrists secured to a ring in the floor. Her whole body was arched backwards over the bar in a curve like a horseshoe and her big tits stuck up proudly. She wore a ring gag and one trainer was fucking her face upside down, thrusting brutally down her throat while a second one used a flogger on her tits and belly and cunt.<br><br>The senior years at school had punishment training classes to help us acclimatize to pain but I had never seen anything so brutal before. The woman was making awful sounds, crying and choking, almost throwing up and in between the gagging sounds, she made noises that I could guess were pleading and begging as her mouth was raped. She made loud “Uuuuurrrrrh!” groans of agony each time her tits were whipped.<br><br>Her upturned face was thick with bubbled saliva strings and what looked like men’s discharge that ran from her mouth down into her nose and eyes and hair. On the floor under her head was a sticky growing puddle of white fluid.<br><br>The supervisor explained to us awestruck sixteen-year-olds that the woman had been in training two weeks but her haughty arrogant nature was making her difficult to break. “This morning she insulted a guard and spat at him and it was decided to cure her disrespectful mouth. This is the fourth trainer who has fucked her face so far. She’ll be fucked by several more before her punishment is over. If she is verbally disrespectful again, we simply repeat the punishment for longer until she learns.”<br><br>I had stared at the poor woman’s agony, watching her reddened marked tits shudder and bounce under the lash. I was filled with fear and shock and yet excited all at the same time. Would an owner do the same to me one day? I remember going home to papa and as usual he was interested in my schooling so when I told him about our BAF visit he asked me several questions about my thoughts and reactions to the punishment. I’d confessed to him that I had felt strangely excited by it and had wondered how it felt to be bound at the mercy of an angry Master. I had wanted to touch myself.<br><br>My mind came back to the present. There was just one other object in the room. A chubby blonde girl with small tits was bound astride a ‘horse’, a sharp-edged triangular wooden torture device I had known at school and which was used on girls who had cunts that came too soon or didn’t cum when ordered to; “disobedient cunts” was what Monsieur Bruille called them. I had been a good girl at school and had never been astride one. I knew from others that they were absolute agony, especially after a while. Her ankles were cuffed to rings cemented into the floor and her arms were bound, elbows and wrists together – a strappado – directly out behind her and suspended from a chain that was bolted to the ceiling. A large whirring and clattering machine was positioned in front of and above her. An electric fucking machine. The dildo mounted on it was pushing back and forth, vertically downwards. The girl’s head was forced right back, her open mouth up towards the ceiling and the machine was raping her mouth. Long thick glutinous strings of saliva hung from her chin and had puddled on the floor. She was moaning and groaning pathetically in pain and coughing now and then as the dildo made her gag and spew up more drool. There were cruel clamps on her nipples and weights hung from them, swaying as the machine made her move.<br><br>It looked like agony! Such a beautiful sight. I was reminded of that day in Nice…<br><br>Master turned the machine off and wheeled it aside, then unclipped her nipple clamps. She gasped with pain as the blood flowed back into her flesh. Master bent down to rub and pinch and roll each in turn. The blonde groaned again, making slobbering sounds. As she lowered her head I saw her face and realised that she actually looked a little like me though she was plumper and had fatter thighs and smaller tits and her skin wasn’t as clear as mine. I felt sorry for her. She would have a low DMV and be bought by some cheap owner who lacked class and style.<br><br>Master ordered her up and she lifted herself off the wooden horse. Master dragged it out from under her and she groaned gratefully, lowering herself again, though this posture pulled her arms up behind her more, forcing her head forwards. She panted a little between small sobs and coughs, tears running down her face, obviously recovering from a long session of pain and enforced gagging on the horse and the fucking machine.<br><br>Master turned to me.<br><br><strong><em>"It's time to see what your father and Master does at work, cunt. Right now, I'm training this slave, getting her ready for the trading house. Since it makes me so hard to hurt her, I'm going to fuck her like the slut she is. First, she's going to suck me off and get me harder and covered in her drool. Usually I fuck her dry, but today I'm going to see if all those lessons in eating cunt you took paid off. Lie down between her legs, slave, and get her ready to get fucked by your Master. If you do a good job, I might let that cunt between your legs get a reward."</em></strong><br><br>I had eaten out many cunts at school, I was used to it and enjoyed it. One of the commonest things two masters enjoyed doing when they got together socially was to pair their slaves up and order them to fuck in order to entertain their owners. For this reason our last year in school had contained many practical classes. Monsieur Bruille always seemed extremely enthusiastic when our class went to the gym and there laid out on the floor were rows of padded exercise mats. He would point to a girl at random and order her to strip and stand on a mat until half the class were naked. Then he’d order the rest of the girls to strip and one at a time he’d point to a girl at random that she had to join so we made up pairs. If there was an odd number of girls one mat would have three on. He then ordered us to have sex, usually orchestrating the whole class so that we were all doing the same act at the same time – eating cunt, licking anus, suckling nipples, sixty-nineing, tribbing and so on. He would then walk around the class watching intently and calling out extra instructions or guiding with comments until all us girls were panting and sweaty and cumming all over the place! He liked to pair us at random so we could not pair off with our friends and favourites and sometimes he’d pair up girls who disliked each other. I remember for several weeks he made two girls do sex where one was bullying the other in the playground each day. It was interesting to see the bully forced to lick her victim to orgasm.<br>So when Master ordered me to eat out the bound woman I didn’t hesitate for a second. There was also no need to speak. I placed the plastic wallet containing my documents carefully on the desk then went down on my knees on the cold hard floor, lying down to get on my back and slither up so my head was between her thighs. I put my arms up through between her legs first so I could pull her buttocks open and spread her cunt wide with my fingers. She seemed to want this and lowered her cunt onto my face even though it must have been painful for her arms.<br><br>I began to lap at her gently at once, knowing the poor woman must be sore. I used my tongue slowly and carefully at first, then began to flicker the tip of it against her clit which I exposed with my fingers. Repeatedly lapping my tongue over her clit and with my nose pushed up into her rear pucker I ground the tip of it against that muscle to excite her more quickly.<br><br>The girl began to pant and sigh and then moan and soon she was grinding her cunt hard against me and crying out repeatedly, though she wasn’t cumming. I could sense she wanted to but she could not of course, without my Master giving her an order to.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Millennium Slave Law [BAF Office]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vin26m</strong> on <strong>18-08-2012, 16:53:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/ConstantLeconte13_Avatar.jpg)<br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Constant Leconte</span></span><br><strong>Location:</strong> BAF Training Room<br><strong>With:</strong> Karin Leconte, his daughter; NPC public slave<br><br>Karin, my own daughter, <em>cunt</em>, immediately laid her naked body on the smooth hard floor, got on her back, and got her face into position to be used as a seat for the public slave, the <em>bitch</em>, that was a less pretty version of my flesh and blood.<br><br>I went by the table, which was behind the kneeling bitch, and watched cunt get to work, eagerly lapping at the bitch's sore slit, whose head hung forward while her arms were still in stuck in a strappado-like pose.<br><br>I didn't want to mess up my suit, which had a retail price that was probably more than the DMV of the bitch, so I removed the jacket and placed it on the chair, then stepped out of my shoes to remove my pants.&nbsp; I put my shoes back on and pulled my cock out of my boxers.&nbsp; I was already pretty hard to fuck, but I felt I had some room to grow before I raped the bitch in front of cunt.<br><br>The bitch's eyes were closed, focusing on the first pleasure between her legs in days, maybe weeks.&nbsp; Usually I warm her up with some well aimed stikes with a riding crop, cat of nine tails, or (if she begs enough) slaps from my bare hand.&nbsp; But today the bitch was getting a special treat of cunt's tongue.<br><br>I stepped over cunt and stood over her, my feet planted on either side of her tits.&nbsp; I smacked each of the bitch's cheeks to open her eyes, and when she saw my cock in her face she immediately leaned forward trying to get it in her mouth.<br><br>The bitch hated the strappado position, and whenever my cock wasn't in her mouth penetrating her throat, her arms were behind her back.&nbsp; But once she started doing something I liked, I gave the chain connecting her wrists to the ceiling more slack.<br><br>Her throat was warmed up from the fucking machine, and she immediately starting facefucking herself, occasionally moaning when cunt licked her slit or clit or anus just right.<br><br>Tears and drool leaked and poured out her bloodshot eyes and salivating mouth.&nbsp; The sounds of the depths of her oral cavity on my cock echoed through the training room.&nbsp; She knew to keep her mouth wide open so I could hear the sound of my cockhead stabbing into the throat, making her gag and cough and sputter.<br><br>uhk-uhk-uhk-URAHK<br><br>uhk-uhk-uhk-GAK<br><br>uhk-uhk-uhk-uhk-uhk-URAKH-GAK-URAHK<br><br>In no time, strings of spit were hanging from her chin to my balls, from her nose to my stomach, and from my cockhead through her lips to the back of her throat.&nbsp; The tendrils of body fluid hung like vines as her face and my crotch crashed into each other over and over.&nbsp; Ropes of drool stuck to her tits, and her face glistened a bit more every time I slapped and rubbed her cheeks and nose with my dick.<br><br>Soon, a pool of fluid was covering cunt's tits.&nbsp; It was too convenient to put off, so I squatted down and titfucked Karin's spit-covered tits as she continued eating away at the bitch.&nbsp; Without my cock raping her face, the bitch was on the verge of coming, so I smacked cunt's tits.<br><br><strong>"Enough of that, cunt.&nbsp; I wanted the bitch ready to get fucked, I don't want her coming."</strong><br><br>I smacked each of Karin's tits then got up and walked around behind the bitch.&nbsp; Juices and saliva were dripping down the bitch's inner thighs, and cunt's face was also slick with the combination.&nbsp; I got some thick padding and placed it so I could fuck the bitch from behind.&nbsp; I released her arms completely, and with her wrists still bound together behind her back, she fell forward, face first, between cunt's legs.<br><br><strong>"Okay, bitch, according to your records, you haven't had an orgasm in three days.&nbsp; If you want one now, you better starting eating out the cunt's cunt, and maybe I'll let you come on my cock.&nbsp; Now return the favor!&nbsp; When cunt starts moaning, you start getting fucked."</strong><br><br>The bitch was gifted at eating pussy and eager to get off.&nbsp; She would get cunt moaning in no time.&nbsp; In the meantime, I teased my cock up and down the bitch's slit, just inches away from cunt's face.&nbsp; Once I heard cunt moaning, I eased my cockhead into the bitch.<br><br><strong>"Don't you dare make cunt come with your tongue yet, bitch.&nbsp; Just drive her crazy.&nbsp; If cunt comes, it's back on the wooden horse for you!&nbsp; And if cunt isn't moaning..."</strong><br><br>I pulled my cock out of the bitch as a demonstration, then shoved it back inside her.<br><br>Cunt's moans and whimpers were getting louder as I was getting closer to my own release.&nbsp; While the bitch's tunnel was wet and tight, I wanted something tighter, and her asshole was just the place.<br><br><strong>"On your knees, cunt,"</strong> I said, addressing Karin the cunt.&nbsp; <strong>"Use your tongue and spit on the bitch's asshole like the filthy slut you are while I fuck the bitch's birth canal."</strong><br><br>I had cunt put her hands on the bitch's asscheeks, spreading them wide so cunt could lap at the bitch's anus that I was going to shove my cock in.<br><br><strong>"More spit, cunt, I want to get all of me up her ass at once."</strong>&nbsp; I helped out my sticking my fingers down cunt's throat, getting her to cough up some of that throat slime that makes such good lube.&nbsp; The problem was that I could only get my fingers in so deep to get the really good stuff.<br><br>I looked around for something longer to shove down Karin's gullet, but the only thing nearby was my cock.&nbsp; So I took it out of the bitch, all slick with her juices, and rammed it into cunt's oral fuckhole.<br><br>I made Karin take it deep, holding it, feeling her gag three times no matter how much she tried to pull away.&nbsp; When I yanked her head up, a mouthful of throat slime poured over her bottom lip coated the bitch's asscrack.<br><br><strong>"Again, and keep your fingers in her asshole.&nbsp; Stretch it open so it gapes and your spit can combine with the lube in her ass from her Balance pills."</strong><br><br>My dick went down my daughter's throat again, making her cough up and spit out even more than before, this time mostly ending up in the bitch's asshole, mixing with the clear, slick, pussy juice-like residue already in there.<br><br>After raping the bitch's oral and vaginal fuckholes in front of my own daughter, it was time to finish the trio.&nbsp; I pulled my cock out of the bitch's cunt, then shoved it up her ass until all of me was buried in her.<br><br>After going deep, I pulled out, seeing the gaping depth for myself and showing it to cunt, then rammed back into the bitch's rectum, to the hilt.&nbsp; After pounding my dick into the bitch's ass, I started switching between her cunt and her ass.&nbsp; When her ass began feeling a bit dry, my dick went back in Karin's mouth for more throat-lube.<br><br>I couldn't hold back any longer.&nbsp; I gave the bitch permission to come as I raped her ass.&nbsp; I ejaculated first into the bitch's asshole, then pulled out and blasted cunt's face, then dumped the rest of my load in the bitch's front fuckhole.<br><br>I caught my breath and stood up, then pointed at my daughter.&nbsp; <strong>"Okay, cunt, clean up this mess.&nbsp; All cum, juice and saliva is off her body, your body and the floor.&nbsp; Bitch gets to clean my cock."</strong><br><br>I pulled the bitch's useless head up by her blond hair and stuck my dick in her mouth, watching cunt lick up the rest.<br>
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>