On the planet of Farpost, there are no prisons. The punishment for severe crimes is Judicial Slavery. This is the story of one such slave. In this chapter slave shishi finds out who has been truly using her.
642 is the story of a young woman on a distant planet in the distant future who is wrongfully convicted of theft and sentenced to two years of judicial slavery. This book, divided into twelve chapters, is her mind diary as her slavery goes through some very interesting– and erotic– twists. This is the chapter eleven. It is a very short transition chapter. I will be posting chapter twelve at the same time with it but it may or may not post immediately on the site.
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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2021 by The Technician.
Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.
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Chapter Eleven - The Truth Revealed
Cycle 4378, Day 373
I awake in a bed in a strange room. I am feeling very, very empty. A woman in a white jacket says softly, “She is awake. But she is very weak.”
I look around the room bewildered. There are two other beds in the room. Many people are standing next to my bed including Master and Madame Loretta. The woman in white steps closer, leans down to me and says quietly, “You are in hospital recovering from solar radiation poisoning. Do you know what that means?”
“My poop will glow in the dark?” I say and then clap my hand to my mouth.
She laughs slightly and says, “Perhaps, but what I meant is that you will need to be here for a few days while we get the residual poisons out of your body.”
“But that is not why you feel so empty and confused.” Madame Loretta says. “Your lifepack has been totally erased.” I gasp and she continues, “It will reboot and update shortly. The false memories are being edited out by the central computer. Soon your true self will once again be totally restored.”
Master leans in so I can see him smile at me and says, “Once the computer knew that there were two of you and two lifepacks, it was able to separate your real memories and entries from the false ones.”
“How could there be two of me?” I ask.
Master’s voice becomes almost harsh as he says, “My search of the official records on Home Planet were very interesting. William Appleworth has never had any children. And he has never been married. His appeal to you to save his child was a ruse to get your bone marrow.”
Another man is standing next to Master. He is wearing a strange-looking black suit with a gold sash across the front. “We always knew it was possible to clone a lifepack,” he says, “but we knew that such a thing would be useless because lifepacks continuously record the DNA of the person in which it is implanted and transmits that information to the central computer each time it updates. We thought the lifepack system was totally secure because there was no way a cloned lifepack could ever be used to upload false memories to the planetary computer or be recognized as a bank security key.”
“Until,” Master continues firmly, “someone implanted a fake lifepack in a mass of laboratory grown flesh cloned from your stem cells.” He points at me and adds, “... cells that were obtained from your bone marrow donation.”
The other man looks very uncomfortable as he says, “Our scientists have assured me that they have implemented safeguards that will prevent another such occurrence.” He then starts to look very, very, very uncomfortable as he continues. “Xandar Deurue,” he says, calling me by my name before I was made a slave. “Xandar Deurue, without a doubt you are innocent of all charges against you. A clone of your lifepack was used to access your data storage area so certain accounting and mine records could be diverted. It was also used to create false bank accounts where the money from the sale of the embezzled ore was deposited. When you discovered the problem with the diverted records, you had the misfortune of reporting your suspicions to the very man who was responsible for those diversions. From that point on, the miscreants– including one of my own family– plotted to destroy you. They would have killed you immediately, but they needed you alive so they could interrupt your lifepack with their own to access their bank accounts and transfer their stolen money off planet. Once that was accomplished, they needed you to die in an accident or at the hands of other slaves so that they would not be implicated.”
He turns to face Master before saying, “And they would have been successful if you hadn’t been bought by the Master of the House of Burcroft.”
He pauses and begins to look almost pained. “I, as Chief Founder,” he says in a very stilted cadence, “could publicly announce your innocence. And that is what justice for you demands.”
I gasp as I realize who he is.
“But,” he continues, “declaring your innocence would destroy the galaxy’s trust in our system of lifepacks. That could cause the collapse of our economy, our trade relations with other systems, and perhaps even our culture. So I am asking– not ordering, but asking– if you would be willing to remain a slave of Master Karl.”
“It would be a special kind of slave, shishi,” Master says softly. “If you will stay with me I will make you my Gold-eyed Slave. Gold tattoos will be overlaid on your eyes. The blue eye pearls will be replaced with gold. I will even have them tattoo a gold ribbon in your tattooed rope to proclaim to everyone that you are my Gold-eyed slave.”
He slowly strokes my face and watches me for a few moments. Then he says, “But it is your choice, shishi. It is your choice.”
I stare at them. Gold-eyed slaves are very rare here on Farpost. Under the law, they are slavewives, but actually they are more than ordinary wives. Because they are slaves and usually have no say in becoming a slavewife, they can never be divorced, put aside, sold, or in any way mistreated. They even have right of inheritance. In many ways a slavewife has higher status than a regular wife. Master is asking me to become his wife!
I almost blurt out, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” but instead gasp aloud as my lifepack comes back fully online. “I am back online,” I say, looking around the room.
“So,” Master says laughing slightly, “now that you have control of your innermost thoughts and won’t just blurt them out, what is your answer?”
“Yes, Master,” I say, almost sobbing. “I have always loved you and would be willing to remain as your slave even if it were as a purple-eyed slave.”
“For now,” he says softly, “you must remain here. Your lifepack and the lifepacks of 33 and 34 recorded how much radiation you received.”
The woman in the white coat gestures at the other two beds and says, “According to the readings, all three of you should have been dead when they found you. Somehow, you were able to keep your body active enough to absorb the solar radiation.” She gives a very tight smile, “Even so,” she says firmly, “you will need to stay here for a few days as we help your bodies heal.
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END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN
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The true rulers of this world, the credit card companies, have made it almost impossible to sell books with true BDSM themes. Erotic publishers will soon be a thing of the past. So I have pulled all of my books from the one publisher that I had left, and have decided to share them with my on-line followers.