Freecities

Looking deeply unhappy and shivering occasionally, Lily comes to see you. Since she is not allowed to speak, she just enters your office and stands there, unsure what to do. The reason for her distress is obvious: her pussy is so wet there are little rivulets of moisture running down her inner thighs. One of her spasms brings her enough stimulation that it almost brings her to orgasm.

This is the result of not getting off for several days while on the slave diet provided by the nutritional systems. The mild aphrodisiacs included in her food increase her sex drive, and the increased libido can become cumulative if it's not regularly addressed. It looks like she hasn't really gotten hers in a couple of days, and the poor girl can likely think of nothing but that. She's so horny she'll do anything for release. However, she did come to you with her trouble rather than masturbating illicitly.

What do you do?

Broken walks past your desk on her way to bed. You run your eyes over her naked body.

Your personal assistant breaks in on your sleep with an urgent message. You push a slave off you and sit up to take it. As the owner of the arcology, you perform some functions that would traditionally be the province of a government. In this anarcho-liberal polity, it's still necessary for people making deals to have someone to appeal to when disputes arise. Part of your agreement with your tenants is that you will perform this duty on deals between two tenants. The message is about just such a disagreement; they always seem to happen in the middle of the night, and they're always urgent.

An older woman who has signed an enslavement contract with a slave trader is accusing her of not living up to the terms. The contract requires that the trader pay the medical costs of the woman's daughter in return for the woman's voluntary enslavement. The woman claims that the payments have not been made and the trader is still insisting on enslavement.

The trader states that the daughter was thought to only have a minor condition, but has proven to be suffering from a serious cancer. She protests that she will lose a great deal of money, and that there's no way she would have made the deal if the woman had been honest with her about how bad her daughter's condition was. The woman responds that she didn't know.

What do you do? You could settle the dispute in favor of the older woman or the slave trader, or offer to buy out the contract: this will give you the woman as a slave.

Passing near the slave dormitory late at night, you hear a quiet cry within. This is strange; most slaves housed there are not inclined or not allowed to have sex in the middle of the night, and in any case, the noise wasn't one of pleasure. Looking in, you see a jerky movement near the door. It's Hameeda, and she's obviously having a bad dream. She raises an arm to fend off some imagined danger, and in doing so, pushes the sheet down around her waist. She sleeps naked, like all your slaves, and the movement bares her little tits to the cool night air. The low blue light outlines her nipples as they stiffen at the sudden change of temperature, becoming attractively erect. Still dreaming, she clasps her arms protectively over her vulnerable chest, and rolls to one side. Halfway into a fetal position, she turns her head against her pillow, murmuring "N-no — please no — I'll d-do anyth-thing — no..."

Although your life as an arcology owner comes with many associated privileges, extended idleness to bask in your luxury is not often among them. Thankfully, your personal assistant knows better than to let you run yourself ragged from the weight of your assorted responsibilities and often allots time in the evenings of your active schedule to simply relax.

Of course, no self respecting arcology owner could be expected to enjoy a lazy night of idle relaxation on their own. As you resolve the last of your most pressing responsibilities for the evening, your personal assistant directs one of your attentive slaves to gently guide you away from the unending burdens of running your arcology. Leaning against the doorway and wearing a facsimile of what an old world woman might wear on a casual night in, Riva asks with exaggerated casualness, "Want to hang out, Master?"

She saunters over and kneels obediently in front of you, awaiting further direction. She keeps her eyes slightly downcast, her hands lightly smoothing the folds from her tight skirt while her breasts visibly rise and fall under her even tighter blouse. She's the perfect picture of an attentive little old world girlfriend.

First on the inspection schedule is Lily, and as you watch her enter your office, you note several good signs about her progress towards becoming a good sex slave. She enters obediently, without pretending to be thrilled to be here, but also without hesitation. Best of all, her pussy is flushed and moist.

The mild aphrodisiacs in the slave food have clearly built up some arousal that she hasn't been able to address recently. She hasn't been with you long; it's been a mere 4 weeks since she became your slave. She may not be fully cognizant of how her libido is being altered. New slaves aren't informed of the true extent of your abilities to force sexual need. It can be useful for a new girl to wonder if some of the horniness she feels is natural, and suspect that she's nothing but a dirty slut who deserves to be a sex slave.

When it's time for refreshments, your personal assistant directs the closest unoccupied slave capable of bringing them in to do so. This has the added advantage of bringing an enjoyably unpredictable variety of slaves under your eyes. This time, Lily comes through the door of your office, carrying a selection of cigar brands and the necessary implements on a tray.

She comes to a stop right beside your elbow, waiting for further direction, just as she's been trained to do in these cases. She keeps her eyes slightly downcast, her back arched, her chest pressed outward, and her bottom stuck out a bit. She's the perfect picture of an obedient little sex slave.

At appropriate intervals during the day your personal assistant directs an unoccupied slave to visit your office to ensure all your needs are currently being met. With such a vague task set before them, the slaves who enter your domain in such a way often find themselves used in a multitude of refreshingly novel ways. At this particular moment, Peggy comes through the door of your office and hesitantly kneels beside your desk to await further orders. It occurs to you, gazing down at your obedient slave, that she exists as little more than an object to meet your various needs. Perhaps you should treat her as such.

Hameeda appears in the door of your office for a scheduled inspection. She hesitates in the doorway, staring fixedly downwar, before stumbling forward to stand in front of your desk. Her chest is rising and falling with panicked hyperventilation. The poor slave is terrified of you for some reason.

You let her stand there naked and shivering while you finish what you're working on. She holds her hands down at her sides, just like she's supposed to, but they twitch inward occasionally, betraying her desire to shield her chest and pretty petals from your view. The wait gives license to her fears. Her lips are quivering, and tears are quickly gathering at the corners of her eyes.

Do you conduct a straightforward inspection, or confirm her worst fears?

At the end of a long day, you take a moment to watch the comings and goings of your arcology to decompress. While doing so, you notice someone who's clearly had a longer day than you. Yolisa is making her tired way back to the kitchen for a meal and then bed after a long day of sex work.

She comes around the corner and almost runs into you. She stops and stares, struggling to find the appropriate thing to say or do, but too exhausted to manage it. Even though she's been obediently cleaning herself between fucks, she looks used up. Her skin is reddened here and there. Her pussylips are puffy, and you have no doubt her vagina is quite sore. The awkward way she's standing suggests that her gaping asshole has had more than one dick up it recently. Even her nipples are pinker than usual, having been cruelly pinched.

Lily appears at the door of your office, looking frightened. She takes one hesitant step in and stops, wavering, her hand balled into fists and her lower lip caught behind her teeth. The slavegirl is getting used to her place as chattel, but she isn't sure of herself yet. After a few moments, it becomes obvious that she's lost whatever mental momentum propelled her to come in here, and can't muster the courage to back out, either. You rescue her by politely but firmly ordering her to tell you why she's here. After two false starts, she "P-please fuck me, Master," she chokes out. To go by her behavior, the likelihood that she's actually eager to take a dick, never mind yours, is vanishingly small.

Your slaves are required to take very good care of themselves, and your best ones spend several hours a day maintaining every centimeter of their bodies. You notice your lover Riva standing naked in front of a mirror outside the bathroom, carefully applying moisturizing lotion to every centimeter of her pale skin. She's clearly feeling well, and her homely face bears a smile of simple enjoyment as she basks in the warmth of the slave quarters, calibrated to make nudity comfortable. She straightens her nice legs and bends at the waist, moaning at the pleasurable feeling of a good stretch. She sets the lotion bottle on the ground next to her, dispenses a little, and carefully rubs it into the tops of her feet. When she reaches her ankles, still bent almost double, she catches sight of you watching her from between her legs. She smiles at you and keeps working.

She shifts her curvy hips innocently and moves up to her lower legs. But then, as she slowly massages the lotion into her cute calves, she arches her back and cocks her hips a little. This causes her flushed, glistening pussy and hungry anus to become visible, before she hugs her thighs together, sighing as she flexes them a little to put gentle pressure on her womanhood. With her back arched and her thighs together her cute buttocks are spread wide apart, displaying her relaxed anus. She peeks between her legs again, checking to see if you're watching.

As you're making the rounds through your penthouse, you hear Riva speaking in the tones she uses to castigate misbehaving slaves in the next room. When you appear in the doorway, you have little chance to survey the situation before Yolisa, apparently the miscreant, flings herself at your feet. She clings to one of your legs convulsively, choking on tears as she stares up at you and tries to muster an explanation. After two false starts, she manages to start begging. "Please, Master," she wails miserably. "Please don't let her fuck my butt."

You shoot an amused glance at Riva, who smiles back as she explains the slave's minor sin and her intention to sodomize the malefactor. She does not bother to keep an edge of anticipation out of her voice, and Yolisa cries harder and clings to you with renewed force as your Head Girl pronounces her intention with cruel clarity. You look down at Yolisa. She stares back with huge wet eyes, doing her best to implore you with her gaze, and scooting her rear in towards your foot in an unconscious effort to protect it from the promised ass fucking. She's quite authentically terrified; her whole body is shaking.

Riva is very much acting within her duties, and Yolisa has now misbehaved twice by trying to go over your Head Girl's head by appealing to you. Riva is ready to carry out the sentence: She's got an elephantine dildo ready, and she slaps it against her palm, forcing a frightened moan from Yolisa.

During her weekly inspection, Hameeda has trouble following the routine orders that position her so you can examine her body. The cause is not difficult to determine: she's so cripplingly terrified that she's having difficulty functioning. She seems to be trying to obey you, but she's so scared that her mind is having trouble translating your simple verbal commands into physical obedience. You ask her what she's so frightened of. The question stuns her, and she stares at you in mute horror, looking even more terrified than she has up to this point and completely devoid of any idea how to respond. You order her to respond, and this starts her out of her fugue. She begins to cry, makes two false starts, sobs, and then begins forcing out words.

"E-e-everything," she cries. "I'm s-so s-sorry b-but I c-can't help," she chokes on a sob and hiccups, "help it. This, this place, being a sex slave, n-never knowing what th-the p-punishment will be wh-when I'm bad, e-everything, Master. Oh, oh, I'm sorry, p-please, I'm sorry I, I'm like this, I'm crying, p-please Master, please don't..." She trails off, giving you a look of supplication.

Arcology X-4 is well fitted with automated cleaning systems. However, Hameeda is acting as a servant to your other slaves, so whenever she has nothing else to do the cleaners are deactivated and she is made to clean by hand. After all, there is no sense in leaving her idle, when she could be scrubbing floors.

Which, incidentally, is what she's doing now. She has standing orders to change into a sturdy apron when doing such work, which she is not pleased to follow, since the apron has no back at all. She's working diligently on the floor, though, down on all fours, using both hands to work a scrub-brush back and forth. Her bare ass bobs back and forth as though she were doing it doggy style with an invisible man.

Yolisa lacks the sexual energy to be at home among your slaves, since her peers can demand sex from her whenever they want it. She sometimes tries to evade them or even outright refuse. You come upon the aftermath of such a scene as Riva is assessing an appropriate punishment. She immediately defers to you, should you wish to take over.

There are sturdy leather seats placed strategically throughout your penthouse. They offer something convenient to bend your slaves over, wherever you happen to encounter them, and they're comfortable, too. At the moment, you're sitting on one, using a tablet to take care of some business that caught you away from your office, but isn't worth heading back to your desk for. Slaves move by your impromptu throne as you work, mostly doing their best to greet you properly as they pass. Busy, you spare few of them more than a glance.

One of them slows as she goes by, however. Looking up, you see that it's your lover Riva. "Hi Master," she says flirtatiously. "That looks like a really comfortable seat. Can I sit down and rest for a little while?" She is not pointing at the soft leather cushion next to you: she's pointing at your crotch.

You're nude, a consequence of recent unrelated activities. Your formidable dick is three quarters hard, and Lily is pointing right at it. She knows exactly what she's asking for and gives her trim hips a little wiggle to make it even more abundantly clear. She has a shapely womanhood, with trim labia and a demure clit, but it's a little flushed. Her wet cunt is already lubricating itself generously for you, slicking her labia with female arousal. The slutty slavegirl wants it badly.

As you begin your day one morning, you hear the quiet but unmistakably dominant voice of your businesswoman personal assistant coming from your office. Looking in, you are treated to the sight of Peggy's big behind bouncing as she reaches out over the glass top of your desk with a soft, dust-free cloth and a bottle of screen cleaner. Siri, your digital assistant, is displaying her avatar right under where the slave is cleaning the glass screen, and she's displaying it nude. She's positioned herself so that the poor slave appears to be wiping her pussy down with screen cleaner, and is talking dirty to the furiously blushing servant. "Ohh, that feels good," she moans. "Rub me right there, you slavegirl slut! I love it!" The poor slave is doing her best to hurry, embarrassed and unsure of how to react to Siri's behavior.

Late at night, Riva returns to the living area of the penthouse. It's the end of her day as a working girl, and despite being obviously tired, she's smiling with obvious sexual satiation. Every so often, she'll get a dreamy expression and lick her lips. She fetishizes cum to the extent that getting to eat a kilometer of dick really satisfies her.

You are working late tonight, poring over some particularly troublesome business documents — though, thankfully, the end appears to be in sight. The sun has all but completely slipped below the horizon, drowning your office in moody twilight. Seeing that you are finally approaching the end of a long day, Siri takes the liberty of having a cigar brought in to you. This time Peggy Sue Roby has been sent to deliver it. She loves you, but fears you simultaneously. Such relationships were not uncommon before the advent of modern slavery, but they are especially prevalent in its wake, as fear has proven a highly effective control method for those slaveowners with the inclination and relative lack of conscience to utilize it as such. You hurriedly put the finishing touches on your work, eager to be done, and then reach for your cigar. Peggy Sue flinches at your sudden movement, taking a few frightened steps back, nearly dropping the serving tray and leaving you grasping at thin air. It was a simple fear response; she didn't realize you were ready for your treat and instinctively thought you were reaching out to strike her. Tears well up in her eyes as she apologizes profusely.

Do you comfort here, or vindicate her fears?

You have a gap in your schedule in the morning, and decide to watch some FCTV. No sooner do you begin to watch a random show, than you have a notification that someone is here to see you. It seems to be a tech of some sort, complete with a small utility drone. A camera reveals the back of her shirt, on which is written in block letters "FCTV SERVICE." Incredible. How do these people always find the worst time to stop in? Your assistant shrugs. At a gesture from you, she lets her in. This had better be good.

Presently, the tech enters the room and asks how your FCTV product is working. You tersely reply that it is fine, although you find the random nature of the shows a little annoying, then ask the tech to cut to the point. She shifts from one foot to the other, and then sheepishly admits that the service comes with a free remote that allows you to change the channels. Incredible! Why didn't you receive one? "It's, uh, 8HGG Inc. policy to distribute remotes only after a trial period." Siri quietly notifies you that "She's lying. We've had no notification from 8HGG Inc. of a visit. It's definitely the same tech as last time; she's trying to cover up her mistake on a big contract. They don't know she's here."

She unboxes the new remote and turns her back to you, eagerly demonstrating how you can use it to watch any show you want. This could be your chance to turn the tables on FCTV and get some special "customer support" of your own.

Passing through the slave dormitory at night, you run your eyes down the row of sleeping chattel. The light here is low, but it's not dark. Slaves need to be able to find the bathroom, slaves on late assignments need to find their beds, and those permitted to do so need to be able to select slaves for sex. Yolisa catches your eye. The dormitory is kept at a pleasant temperature so that the slaves, who of course sleep nude, are comfortable on their bedrolls covered by a single sheet, or nothing at all. She probably went to sleep with her sheet pulled up to her chin, which is normal behavior for slaves who aren't yet accepting of their status as compulsory sex objects, but she's shrugged it down. Half her torso is bare.

The dim blue light plays across her light skin. That side of her chest rises and falls with each breath. She's sleeping soundly, her breaths coming deep and slow. Most slaves where she is mentally are troubled by bad dreams, but the poor girl is evidently too tired for that.

What do you do?

Though Siri constantly monitors all your slaves, you keep an eye on the video feeds yourself. There's nothing like the personal, human touch. You notice one night that Peggy is crouched in the bottom of the shower. Sensing something amiss, you discreetly investigate, and find that she's crying quietly under the warm water.

The slave bathrooms are designed to completely eliminate privacy. There are few partitions, and those are glass. Your better-behaved slaves have all long since lost any hesitation about performing their ablutions nude. As you pass through the area, you notice your lover Riva checking out her own anus in the bathroom mirror.

There's no other way to describe what she's doing: the slavegirl has her back to the mirror, and she's got her hips cocked to spread her sleek butt and reveal her backdoor. Your slaves are trained to check themselves daily, but she seems fascinated. As you pause to watch, she begins to clench and relax her cute hole, alternately puckering and relaxing the pink skin around it. She giggles self-consciously at the sight, and then relaxes all the way, causing her asspussy to open into a slight gape. She notices you out of the corner of her eye and turns to greet you, her pretty rear only partially concealing her asshole in the mirror.

"Hi Master," she says cheerfully. "I was just noticing how much my butt has changed. I check it every day, but I hadn't really looked at it in a while, you know? It used to be so tight, and now it's obviously a fuckhole." She turns to face the mirror, hiking one knee up onto the bathroom counter in front of it. She cocks her hips again and starts blatantly winking her anus for you you, using her hands to tweak her nipples. "Please, Master," she says. "Use me."

Sue has never had anything significant up her ass. Living in Arcology X-4, she can't have missed that anal sex is a part of most slaves' lives. She witnesses sodomy several times a day, at least.

Lately, you've noticed that she reacts to these sights with a well-concealed flash of apprehension. It seems she's figured out that she will probably be required to take it up her little butt someday, and isn't enthusiastic about the prospect. You could probably exploit this.

Sue can be overly chatty with other slaves, and often makes herself late for her next task by losing herself in gossip. You happen to appear after she's been late as Riva is assessing an appropriate punishment. She immediately defers to you, should you wish to take over.

While on a midnight stroll through the arcology, you notice a young woman stumbling along one of the pathways, looking lost. From her clothing to her demeanor you can tell she is a tourist, and an extremely drunk one at that. Upon seeing you, she stumbles up to you as quickly as she can manage, almost falling over in the process. She clearly doesn't recognize you as the owner of the arcology, as she makes no attempt at showing deference.

"Excuse hic me... I'm lost. I don't know how to get back to my hotel... can you help me? These streets are so confusing..."

She's going to be in for quite the hangover.

Do you escort her to her hotel, ignore her, or take the opportunity to enslave her?

Riva has been a very good girl this week, so when her loose asshole catches your eye near the start of a long inspection, you decide to be kind to her as you conduct the rest of your inspection with your cock. Sue is next on the inspection schedule, and when she comes into your office, it's to the sight of Riva's back and rear as she lazily rides her Master. You've been sitting on the couch, making out with the compliant girl as she rides you, for a good half hour. Poor Riva was pent up when you started, and she's climaxed already; she's feeling very devoted and relaxed at the moment, and is doing her best to get you off, too. When you finally come, she moans her thanks into your mouth nonverbally, breaks your lip lock, gives you a peck on the nose, and climbs off you. As she does, she lifts her ass off your cock, her gaping anus dripping cum all over her legs. You didn't fuck her too hard, but you're not small, and she walks a little gingerly as she heads for the bathroom. Sue, standing there nude for inspection, stares openmouthed at Riva as she goes. She's obviously unfamiliar with anal sex.

The penthouse bathroom has a long counter and mirror arrangement with many sinks, so a number of slaves can get ready at once. During those moments of the day when many of them have just been awoken and showered and are hurrying to prettify themselves, this row of sinks presents one of the nicer sights in the arcology, a neatly spaced line of slave butts and a matching line of breasts reflected in the mirror. Peggy is especially impressive. Her big tits stick out a long way when she's standing upright in the nude like this.

With her soft belly against the edge of the counter as she leans forward a little to finish her makeup, her nipples are over the sink. She's concentrating on her task, and every little motion of her arms makes her spectacular breasts sway a little.

Even if she isn't yet a truly devoted sex slave, Lily generally obeys orders. She blushes furiously when given any sexual command, but her true feelings about humiliation become clear when she is ordered to serve in front of others, even other slaves. It sometimes seems the number of people watching her get fondled, used, or fucked directly reduces the distance between her and her next blushing or even sobbing orgasm.

Perhaps you should prove the depths of her humiliation to her, or set her out for public use?

You and Riva see one another less than one might expect, for a slaveowner and their Head Girl. You both lead very busy lives, for one. Furthermore, Riva often functions as a second set of eyes, ears, and castigating hands for you, so it would be a waste for the two of you to be in the same place at the same time. Today, the two of you saw almost nothing of one another, so she comes to your office for a quick review of the day before she turns in for the night.

The business is brief and inconsequential, but it's good to speak with her. When you're done, she gets halfway to the door before coming quickly back to give you a light kiss on the cheek. "I love you, Master," she whispers into your ear, her breasts brushing against your shoulder as she does.

You take care of yourself. It would be absurd to think that there's any explicit requirement that you work out, hard and regularly, but the fact remains that the overwhelming majority of arcology owners who maintain their positions for more than a short time are physically fit. The Free Cities have a reputation for destroying old world wastrels who inherit wealth and think that makes them able to survive in an anarcho-capitalist world. Sloth and an inability to self-govern are not qualities common among your successful peers. Not to mention, it's useful to look good, and it may well prove essential to be physically capable in the near future.

You complete the final rep of your first workout of the day, rack the bar, and jump to your feet to shower, change, and see to your empire. The motion brings your field of view up, and you notice for the first time that Peggy is frozen in the open doorway, having seen something in the workout room that caught her attention as she passed by. Her eyes are fixed on your abdominal muscles with almost painful intensity. You can't really blame her; they're pretty cut, and your bare chest is coated in a light sheen of glistening sweat.

Her eyes track up your torso comically until she's looking into your eyes. She stares dumbly at you for a moment before realizing what she's doing and blushes with embarrassment. She's reasonably well broken, but is still coming to terms with her sexual place as a indentured slavegirl. In particular, she hasn't gotten used to the effects of her training, the slave food, and the atmosphere in the penthouse, all of which are serving to fuel an acceleration of her sex drive. "Sorry, Master, I was just, um, passing by and I thought, um, I saw, um, sorry Master, I'm going now," she babbles, and turns to flee.

Do you pursue her, or let her go?

One night, you see Yolisa walking a little funny, as though she has a sore butt. You call her over to inspect her backdoor to see if she needs care, and order her to spread her buttocks for you so you can examine her anus. Her asshole is fine, just a little sore from hard buttfucks. She complies with you, but as you probe her gently with a finger, she bursts out, "Master, my butt is so sore! Please don't use my ass, Master. Please."

Do you punish her ass for insolence, or give her some care?

Sue comes before you for a routine inspection. The slave is a well-educated and obedient slave. Though she performs her duties devotedly and to the best of her abilities, slave life is not particularly conducive to straining an individual's brainpower. You happen to run into Sue in the hallways of the penthouse, where she takes the opportunity to wordlessly signal she wishes to gain your attention. "Master," she says. "I really enjoy my role as your slave, but I just don't feel like my new life stimulates me." She blushes prettily at her choice of words before continuing, "Stimulate my mind, I mean."

Peggy is a decent slave, pretty well broken to your will and generally obedient. However, she retains a cutting tongue. Though she's learned to her considerable cost not to direct her cheek at you, she still insults your other slaves, and worse, will be sarcastic to members of the public she encounters. You've worked on it, but it remains unsolved. Today, however, she crossed the line. You were doing business in your office with a respected female slave drug wholesaler. The woman is in her late forties, and though she's something of a plastic surgery addict she has permitted her hair to go a becoming steel grey. Passing your office, Peggy audibly commented on how old she looked to another slave. Anger flashes in the businesswoman's eyes.

Perhaps you should loan Peggy to her, or take other measures?

As you're starting your day, Riva pauses her review of business matters to report that Yolisa is not accepting her breakfast from the phallic feeders in the kitchen. With nothing else urgent, you head down to address the situation. Yolisa is in the proper position for feeding, on her knees in front of a feeding fuckmachine. She isn't sucking it off for her breakfast, however. She doesn't seem to be fully awake, and is regarding the big dildo that she's supposed to suck off for food with vague distaste. Her face is scrunched into a look of tired disgust.

She turns to you as you enter, and seeing that it's you, she mumbles unhappily, "Please, Master, please, can I just eat normally for one day? This is, um, kind of gross."

Sue has been in your service long enough to know that oral sex is a daily fact of life for most slaves, and that most slaves are not only required to put up with cum, but to love it, too — or at least be able to fake enjoyment convincingly. She's seen cum spattered on other slaves' faces, pooling in their mouths, and dripping from their asses only to be licked up by other slaves. It's clear from Sue's recent reactions to these acts that she's quite disgusted by oral sex in general and cum in particular. Depending on your point of view, this could be a flaw for her to overcome or a weakness you can exploit.

Slaves in your arcade are not immured in the facility permanently, since holding them in one position at all times would negatively impact their health. They are released to exercise, eat, bathe, and sleep, but for nothing else. You occasionally inspect them when they do so, to see that their harsh lives are not inappropriately difficult for them. One day when you are doing so, Yolisa flings herself on the ground in front of you the instant she sees you.

Facing the ground, she sobs, "{{user}}, please. I can't take any more of this. Please let me out. I'll do anything, {{user}}. I'll love you forever, {{user}} — just don't make me go back inside that wall."

Your Head Girl, Riva comes to find you for a routine meeting at the end of the day, and finds your office empty. You're out on its balcony, looking out into the night from the immense height of the arcology's uppermost levels. She comes outside to meet you, notices your reverie, and follows your gaze. Out there, most of the way to the horizon, there's a lightshow underway. In more peaceful times it might have been mistaken for fireworks, but it's not.

As the two of you stand there watching, strings of red lights begin to trace lines up into the sky. The guns are manually aimed, to go by their jerky arcs of fire, and they're hopelessly ineffective. Their target comes and goes, unseen and unheard at this distance, the only evidence of its passage a flash of light from the target area followed by a low thump that takes a long time to reach you. The commotion is outside the Free City your arcology is part of, and is of little concern: just a minor dispute of the kind becoming more and more common outside your island of safety and security.

You notice a warmth at your side. Riva has edged a bit closer to you, and shivers as you glance at her. She crosses her arms over her breasts, pressing them against her chest as she hugs herself.

"It's very bad out there, isn't it, {{user}}." It isn't really a question, but you nod. "I'm glad I'm here with you," she continues, and I would be even if I didn't love you. She nestles in closer to you, fitting neatly against your side.

"{{user}}, I don't know if the other slaves know how lucky they are, to be safe here."

Your excursions out of your penthouse and into the arcology as a whole often put you in close proximity with citizens from all levels of the social strata. After all, they themselves have their own lives to live within the walls of the Freecities.

On this particular outing you happen to cross paths with a nubile teen, accompanied by her father. From her plain clothes and rudimentary makeup, it is readily apparent that she is not one of the arcology's well-to-do inhabitants. She recognizes you quickly and dips her head in deference to your high status, her expression awestruck by the presence of an arcology owner before her.

Batool comes before you for a routine inspection. The short girl is looking good despite her diminutive height. When she raises her arms above her head to submit to an inspection under your gaze, the top of her dark brown-haired head doesn't even reach your chest. Despite the discrepancy between your height and hers, you notice an unmistakable flush of embarrassment tinging her cheeks. Her brown eyes flick up to gaze at you, but she must crane her head upwards as well to meet your gaze. "Master," she says. "Why do you keep a short, plain slave like me in your penthouse, when there are such beautiful, tall slaves out there in the arcology?" She shuffles about under your gaze a little shamefacedly before saying in a quiet voice, "Surely, their bodies are more fit for pleasuring you."

Heading back towards your office after seeing to a minor matter, you encounter your lover Isabelle, heading for the penthouse milkers. She's not assigned to be a human cow full time, but she's still obliged to visit the milkers regularly. In any case, she's obviously in desperate need of a milking. She's hurrying along with her heavy udders cradled in both arms, trying desperately to shield them from the uncomfortable motion of walking.

Seeing you, she stops short and then winces as her milk-filled breasts slosh to a stop, too. "Hi Master," she says in greeting, and then hesitates, catching her lower lip cutely behind her upper teeth. "Um, would you please milk me?" She's not exactly a breast fetishist, but milking is nonetheless a deeply important activity for her, emotionally; the neurochemical effects of continual lactation are strong. She's so devoted to you that she probably considers this a reassuringly intimate act.

You have a rebel problem. Louisa and her twin sister Imogen are both unbroken, and they seem to draw strength from each other. They're discreet about it, but the arcology's always-vigilant systems occasionally catch them nodding to one another after one of them is punished, or giving each other quiet words of encouragement when they think no one is listening. This is extremely dangerous and should be addressed promptly.

On first slot of the inspection schedule for the day is your lover Isabelle . When she walks clumsily through the door of your office, it's obvious the poor nympho slut hasn't found release since waking up. Her incredible sex drive has her arousal at a fever pitch.

She's walking awkwardly because of how painfully horny she is. Her puffy nipples are flushed and stiff. Her pussy is soaking wet, and streaks of female arousal are shining on her inner thighs. As she staggers to a halt in front of your desk, her motion provides just enough stimulation that she climaxes. Her hands ball into fists at her sides and her torso pitches forward involuntarily, the strong muscles around her big cunt visibly contracting with the force as she squirts a jet of girlcum out onto her legs and the floor. She stands up straight, but this brings her brown eyes up to gaze straight into yours, and the mixed release, humiliation, and naughtiness of having climaxed prematurely right in front of her Master produces an aftershock, adding to the mess on the floor.

You take care of yourself. It would be absurd to think that there's any explicit requirement that you work out, hard and regularly, but the fact remains that the overwhelming majority of arcology owners who maintain their positions for more than a short time are physically fit. The Free Cities have a reputation for destroying old world wastrels who inherit wealth and think that makes them able to survive in an anarcho-capitalist world. Sloth and an inability to self-govern are not qualities common among your successful peers. Not to mention, it's useful to look good, and it may well prove essential to be physically capable in the near future.

You complete the final rep of your first workout of the day, rack the bar, and jump to your feet to shower, change, and see to your empire. The motion brings your field of view up, and you notice for the first time that Lily is frozen in the open doorway, having seen something in the workout room that caught her attention as she passed by. Her eyes are fixed on your abdominal muscles with almost painful intensity. You can't really blame her; they're pretty cut, and your bare chest is coated in a light sheen of glistening sweat.

Her eyes track up your torso comically until she's looking into your eyes. She stares dumbly at you for a moment before realizing what she's doing and blushes with embarrassment. She's reasonably well broken, but is still coming to terms with her sexual place as a slavegirl. In particular, she hasn't gotten used to the effects of her training, the slave food, and the atmosphere in the penthouse, all of which are serving to fuel an acceleration of her sex drive. "Sorry, Master, I was just, um, passing by and I thought, um, I saw, um, sorry Master, I'm going now," she babbles, and turns to flee.

Poor Hameeda clearly isn't working as hard as she should. Riva has her bent over with her buttocks bare, and is administering a punishing spanking. Hameeda's skin is starting to show the force of the beating, and she's begging desperately for mercy.

Riva, meanwhile, is obviously enjoying torturing the poor servant for her failings. She's rubbing her sopping pussy with her other hand, getting close to orgasm as the servant begs and moans.

You wonder whether to intervene, or take part in the punishment...

Louisa is implanted with slow-release lactation drugs. Her lactation is dissimilar to that of a normal mother. It's the same stuff, but it's produced at a much, much higher volume. To stay comfortable, Lousia has to use milkers every couple of hours even though she isn't assigned to give milk as her primary job. Any more than that, and she gets painfully sore; any less than that, and she begins to spontaneously squirt cream whenever her breasts are subjected to the slightest motion.

Louisa constantly passes by your desk as you work, going back and forth between the milkers and her other tasks. Even if you didn't know which was which, it would be easy to tell which way she was going. One way, she walks gingerly, supporting her udders with both hands, dribbling a little bit of milk as she goes. The other way, she has a distinctly relieved expression and her breasts are much saggier.

You see Louisa heading to the milkers from your desk, breasts engorged and leaking. Perhaps you should call her in?

Isabelle takes her aphrodisiacs in pill form, with her food. They're dispensed alongside her nutrition in the kitchen. You happen to be passing by when she's being issued her drugs, and you see her staring thoughtfully at the insignificant-looking little pill, just holding it in her hand and considering it for a long time. When she realizes you're watching, she turns to you and you realize her eyes are moist.

Isabelle mutters, "Master, I hate this shit. I come and come and come but it's just physical. I haven't felt close to anyone ever since I've been on these fucking aphrodisiacs." She shrugs bitterly. "Still crave them though."

Perhaps you should make an example of her by forcing her to take a massive dose? Or have caring sex with her before she takes them?

Riva is a decent slave, pretty well broken to your will and generally obedient. However, she retains a cutting tongue. Though she's learned to her considerable cost not to direct her cheek at you, she still insults your other slaves, and worse, will be sarcastic to members of the public she encounters. You've worked on it, but it remains unsolved. Today, however, she crossed the line. You were doing business in your office with a respected female slave drug wholesaler. The woman is in her late forties, and though she's something of a plastic surgery addict she has permitted her hair to go a becoming steel grey. Passing your office, Ruby audibly commented on how old she looked to another slave.

Anger flashes in the businesswoman's eyes. You'll need to address this matter in some fashion.

Skank is not yet broken to your will. With your experience with slaves, you've been expecting her to take some opportunity of exercising her remaining independence. You don't have long to wait. One day, you give her inconsequential orders, naturally addressing her by her slave name, Skank. She replies waspishly, "{{user}}, my name is Siphiwe. Siphiwe Nogemane."

She sets her jaw and manages to meet your eyes without flinching.