Her Complete Master: A Tale of the Year 2099 [MultiFormat]
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eBook by Rod Harden
eBook Category: Erotica/Erotic Science Fiction/Science Fiction
eBook Description: SF In the Tradition of John Norman's Gor! Rod Harding, author of the eBook bestseller Abducted ... and Loving It, turns his considerable talents to futuristic bondage. In the year 2099, women are slaves, sold at pet shops. When Bob comes of age and turns twenty-one, his uncle takes him to the mall to purchase his first woman. Right away Bob begins to put his new possession, "Kitten," through a rigorous slave training course, determined to become her complete master. At first Kitten rebels and runs away, but Bob subjects her to the strictest discipline. She is determined to escape again. Then suddenly ... could it be? Could master be falling in love with slave? Could slave be falling in love with master? Rod Harden's books are "the kind you read when you are all alone, convinced you will only take a peek, but soon finding yourself desiring more, hooked on the need of the characters, awakened to your own inner demons."--Michelle Houston, Sensual Romance Reviews
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler, Published: 2005
Fictionwise Release Date: May 2005
CHAPTER 1: ROBERT GOES SHOPPING
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It was high summer and the boy lay in the grass. He gazed lazily up at the clouds drifting by overhead. An occasional heavy sigh was the only sign of the impatience and anxiety he felt within.
Nearby on the porch steps sat the old man. He knew what his grandson was really feeling, but had no qualms about making his own impatience much more obvious. "Just once I'd like to see your father be ready on time," he snapped.
"He'll be here soon, Gramps," answered the boy, with an unconvincing sigh.
The old man was impatient because he was a stickler for punctuality. But the boy was impatient for a much more immediate and personal reason. He'd been working part time and saving his money for a couple of years, all in anticipation of this moment. And the five months since he'd turned eighteen had already seemed an eternity. Today he was finally ready for one of the most important purchases of his young life, and his father seemed to be deliberately making him wait.
At long last the door swung open. "Oh, here you two are!" called the boy's father. "What are you waiting around for? Are you ready, or not?" At which both young man and old man alike rolled their eyes.
Gramps pulled himself to his feet, complaining the whole way up, although at 106 years of age he actually got around quite well. In fact it never ceased to amaze him that he was still around at all. He could remember clearly when, as a boy of six, he'd witnessed the big millennium celebrations back in 1999. It had never occurred to him then that he'd live to celebrate another major New Year, with the year 2100 just six months away. Even more amazing was the fact that he could expect another couple of decades of health thanks to all the advances in health care over the past century; he was still twenty years shy of the current average male life span.
Ambling along to catch up with his son and grandson, he kept up a steady stream of grumbles and gripes. But despite his complaints, Gramps was really delighted to be there that day. Allan had always been his favorite son, and Robert was his favorite grandson. He wouldn't have missed this day for anything.
The three of them climbed into the auto and Allan punched in the address for their destination. As they settled back for the automated ride into town, Robert, as usual, wanted to hear more about the strange time when Gramps was young.
"So, Gramps," asked Robert, "weren't you saying they didn't even have pet stores when you were a kid?"
"No, no, I never said that," replied Gramps. "What I said was pet stores back then only sold things like cats and dogs and fish and birds. You know, critters."
"Wow," said Robert. "That is so strange. People kept those kind of things in their homes then?"
"Well, don't forget the word 'pet' had a different meaning back then. You keep forgetting that."
The young man shook his head in confusion. "Right, right. Okay. But I guess I still don't really understand how you got your females then."
The old man sighed, as though he were annoyed about his grandson's interest in the old days. In fact, he never got tired of telling Robert, or any other youngster, how much better they had it now.
"I know it's hard for you to picture how things were back then, Bobby. It's kind of hard for me too, sometimes. When I was a young fella like yourself, it was before they repealed the nineteenth Amendment, before they passed the first of the Female Education and Control Acts. It was a really different world back then, believe me."
The old man stared out the window, momentarily distracted by the orderly, computer controlled flow of traffic on the highway. He could vividly recall what it was like to drive manually in such traffic. Next to him Robert cleared his throat, and he turned his attention back to his grandson.
"Tell me about your first female again, Gramps," said the young man.
"Bah! You've heard all that before."
"I know, but it still fascinates me."
"Well, all right," agreed the old man, with a wink. "My first female ... Let's see. She was something we called a 'wife' back then. And a wife was ... Well, a wife was supposed to be the only female a man would ever, um, own, although we didn't call it 'owning' then."
"What did you call it?"
"Used to be called 'marriage' and the man and the female were considered equal."
"Would I kid you, boy?" growled the old man.
"No, Gramps! It's just an expression. I didn't mean--"
"I know, son. Just yanking your chain. Heh. Anyway, this wife-thing ... She was supposed to be kind of like a combination of what we'd now call a Pleasure pet, a Breeder, and a Domestic."
"Wow," said Robert. "All at the same time?"
"Yeah. Well, not simultaneously, of course. But a good 'wife' was supposed to be good at all three. Sometimes she was a Worker too, and maybe even a Talent. But no matter what, a man couldn't have more than one of 'em."
The young man shook his head, bewildered. "I can't even imagine what it was like, Gramps. I mean, in order to be all that, a wife must have been really expensive! How could you afford one? I mean, if you weren't rich and all."
"Well, remember, boy, you didn't just come right out and buy your female then. You had to go through a whole series of long, complicated rituals. There was 'dating' and then 'courtship' and finally 'engagement'. You'd spend a bundle getting through the rituals, and buying the required 'engagement ring' but even after spending all that money ... Well, it still wasn't considered the same thing as just buying them."
"I think I understand," said Robert. "Still, the men with the most money got the best females, right? Just like today."
"Yes, but--Bah! It's so hard to explain to kids raised under the new system." The old man fumed for a moment, before resuming. "Look, females were considered equal to men, legally, and they had to consent to the, uh, purchase. But, um, well ... Aw hell! I guess the economics of it were pretty much the same as these days. A man got the best female he could afford then, just like now."
Robert persisted with his questions. "But even if you were really, really rich, you could still only own one female at a time?"
"That's what I just said, boy!" Gramps glared at the young man for a moment, then grinned and winked at him. "In theory at least. In practice, men had as many females as they could afford, same as they do now. The real problem wasn't getting them, though. You wanna know what the real problem was?"
"The real problem was getting rid of one when you didn't want her anymore. Like that first 'wife' of mine. Before the FECA laws--I hate that acronym--sounds like 'fecal'--anyway, before then I would've had to go through something called a 'divorce' or I couldn't, uh, purchase or acquire or whatever, a new one. But a divorce was ... Well, it was nothing like the simple sales transaction we have today. In fact, instead of getting cash from the deal, a man could end up paying for the old female, even after he got rid of her. I know, I know. Sounds crazy to me too, now, but that's the way it was."
After reflecting a moment, Gramps continued. "Thank goodness I never had to go through that myself. Just around the time I thought I was ready for a new female, FECA passed and, as a 'husband' I was given title to my former 'wife' along with any assets she possessed on her own. It wasn't long after that when I sold her and purchased my first open market female. I was doing pretty well for myself at the time, and I bought me a Pleasure pet the likes of which I could only have dreamed of under the old divorce system."
The usual hard edge to Gramps' face softened. "Boy, she was something!"
Then, continuing his tale, he said, "Of course, it was a little awkward selling my 'wife' back then. After all, she was considered my equal when I married her. Also, she was not one of the females who supported the changes in the laws at the time. Not by a long shot. Come to think of it, I didn't support them at first myself."
"What?!" exclaimed Robert. "You're kidding me again, aren't you, Gramps?"
The old man shook his head. "Afraid not, Bobby. Ya gotta remember that the psychosis of female equality was pervasive. It was like mass hypnosis, and I was immersed in it. The twentieth century was the only time in history when men experimented with full female equality, and I grew to manhood right before it collapsed from its own internal contradictions. Like Communism before it, but that's another story. So it took a while for me to get completely comfortable with the new mindset. When I sold Mary, she wasn't very happy about it, but I made sure she went to a good rehabilitation center, where they worked their magic on her. Out of curiosity, I did a title search on her several years later, and found her listed as a Domestic pet, which I thought was funny, 'cause she was certainly no Domestic when I 'owned' her."
As Gramps chuckled to himself at a joke only he got, Allan announced, "Okay, Dad, history lesson's over for today. We're here."
"All right!" shouted Robert, fumbling with the hatch release in his eagerness.
The three men climbed out of the auto and hurried from the parking garage into the mall. Gramps did his best to keep up. His grandson was about to pick out his first Pleasure pet, and he knew the boy couldn't wait to get to the pet shop. But it didn't take long before he was lagging far behind.
Allan slowed down to walk with him, letting the youngster hurry on ahead. "There goes one excited boy," said Gramps.
"Can you blame him, Dad?"
"Nope. Not in the least."
The two older men strolled leisurely past the shops in the mall. "Well, Dad, how do you think the Browns will do this year?" asked Allan.
"Hmmph," snarled Gramps. "I think they'll disappoint me again, like they've been doing for the last hundred years."
Just then, they passed a couple of Domestic pets out on their own running errands. Both of the females had hair trimmed just shy of shoulder length, and wore shapeless frocks of gray with light blue trim. They wore no jewelry, but their collars and ownership tags were plainly visible as required by law. They approached quickly in their flat, functional walking shoes, and acknowledged the two men as was customary with respectful nods and diverted eyes.
Gramps could tell at a glance that the Domestics belonged to two different households. The public passes attached to their frocks were color-coded and had large, easy-to-read license numbers. Their owners were probably neighbors who sent them out together to save on cab fares.
Females, of course, were no longer permitted to drive, like they were in the old days. They had to rely on autocabs when they were permitted out on their own. Even then, females could be monitored at all times. The public passes, besides allowing them to travel in public without male escort, also contained global positioning chips along with a program of permitted destinations. Significant variances would immediately sound an alarm at the Female Control Agency, which could then track down the delinquent female.
As the Domestics passed, Gramps smiled and nodded at them. Sometimes it still amazed him how unthinkable the very notion of an unaccompanied female without a public pass had become.
A little further along, the two men met an old friend of Allan's, a successful businessman named Martin who liked to flaunt his expensive status symbols. That day he walked through the mall holding the leashes of a Breeder pet and a Pleasure pet, which followed behind him at an appropriate distance.
Allan and Gramps stopped to talk to Martin, asking first about his Breeder, which was obviously well along with a pregnancy.
"Yep," said Martin, grinning broadly. "Queenie here is seven months along. The doctor says it'll be another boy. That'll make seven boys and five girls for me." With a wink at Allan, he added, "From six different Breeders, by the way."
Queenie was a very attractive female, probably close to thirty years old, with a dark complexion and deep brown hair. She wore a simple, conservative maternity dress, with a jeweled collar and tag. She also wore jeweled leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles, although the cuffs were not joined in any way.
After expressing their congratulations on another son, Gramps and Allan turned their attention to the Pleasure pet. She was strikingly exquisite, with long flowing auburn hair and large dark brown eyes. Martin was obviously partial to red, because he had dressed his Pleasure pet in a red corset-like top that left her firm, full breasts fully exposed. Her only other clothing was a red garter belt holding up red stockings, and red five-inch high-heels.
Like Queenie, the Pleasure pet wore leather cuffs at her wrists and ankles, but in her case, the ankle cuffs were linked by a twelve-inch hobble chain. A third pair of cuffs circled her elbows. These were locked behind her, joining her elbows tightly together. A short chain connected her wrist cuffs in front, forcing her to keep her hands up at her waist.
The Pleasure pet's pubic patch, plainly visible below the garter belt, had been shaved into the shape of a heart, and her permanently glossed lips sparkled in the bright artificial light of the mall. Small ruby-colored pendants attached to her nipple rings swayed lazily to and fro as the men inspected her.
Allan was visibly impressed with the vision of female beauty and vulnerability. He walked slowly around the Pleasure pet, closely appraising her up and down from all angles. Gramps did likewise. The pet appeared to be completely flawless to his eyes.
"Is--is this a new one?" stammered Allan.
Martin was beaming with pride as he saw the frank envy on his friend's face. "Oh yeah," he replied. "Just bought her last week." He waited another moment while Allan and Gramps felt the pet's firm buttocks and hefted her perfectly shaped breasts, appreciating their fluid, natural bounce.
"Fifi here," continued Martin, "took 'Best of Show' at the Midwest Pet Show last Spring. And ... she won third place in the National Show just last month."
"No shit!" said Gramps. "She's a fine bitch, Martin. That's for damn sure. Uh, should I ask how much?"
Martin laughed. "Gramps, if you have to ask, you can't afford her. Let's just say she's a little reward I gave myself for my most profitable year ever."
The men talked for a few more minutes, mostly about Fifi's many exquisite assets. The whole time she remained quiet and still, with her head held high, but with eyes lowered. As a trained Pleasure pet, Fifi was completely comfortable with being the center of attention, as well as being the subject of explicit assessments of her physical attributes. As with any Pleasure pet, she knew the effect she had on men and accepted her place as perfectly natural.
Suddenly, Allan remembered why they were there. "Uh oh!" he exclaimed. "We better get going. Bobby's probably thinking we got lost or something."
"I saw him hurry by just before I ran into you," said Martin.
"He's on his way to the pet shop. Buying his first Pleasure pet today," said Gramps.
"Then by all means, get going!" said Martin. As they started to walk off, he added, "I'll invite you over sometime, Al. You can try out Fifi if you like."
As Allan and Gramps rounded the last corner into the section of the mall with the pet shop, they saw Robert standing at the door hopping mad and looking like he was going to burst.
"C'mon Dad! Gramps! You guys are killing me today," he scolded.
"Okay, Bobby, we're here now. Let's go."
And together, the three men walked through the main entrance of Midwest Pets and Supplies.