Slave Immigrant Ch. 10

"My Uncle Troyabe," she explained, "my father's brother. There are six others, mostly money men, major stock holders; all have companies outside the Free Zone who see us as a diversion and source of income. Just do a good job if you want a chance to do something other than bend over and take it."

Well normally I would have sweaty palm and my stomach would be grinding acid and doing flip-flops. Editing was something I knew and I was surprisingly calm. The security guys were warm and polite, their supervisor cold so I had to give him a combination ass-kiss and threat that if he didn't co-operate he can go talk to JT himself. The Company was looking bad and all I had to do was spin-doctor it.

First I took the raw footage and pieced it together into a very long format. Next I fiddled with the frame/laps speed to give the motion at 16 frames per second rate over the High Definition format of 1600 frames per second. The effect made the whole event look jerky and an almost silent film effect. I then added in a few shots into the action where I mugged at the camera to make the whole sequence pad into the three minutes. Finally the music track, the library was huge and it took a couple of tries to find Yakety Sax, by Boots Randolf. They had it miss-filed as the Benny Hill Theme Song. I made sure Boots got proper credit and waited to see what the bosses would think.

Uncle Paul somehow managed to get himself in the same room as I screened the work for JT, the Board, Whitney and Marcy. It was the moment of truth, I desperately wanted to run and hide. I half wanted to leave the room as the video started, but Count Zoibe stopped me.

"Time to face your Judges," he told me as he was flanked by a few of his officer friends all equally grim.

Thirty second in was when chuckles started, mostly from Uncle Paul. It became infectious especially when Bruno sent the pies flying and caught JT in the face. Myself comically running down an empty hall of doorways and curtains. Bruno running stopping opening one door and a shoe is thrown at him. The Android stalks towards the camera while I am clearly seen behind it thumbing my nose at it. The security team looking even more like the Keystone Kops; as they run back and forth through the halls. Bruno even ran into another room and grabbed a person from behind who was wearing the same suit as me. It was a woman who threw a drink into its face. There was lots of comedy going on as two guards ran past a couple who were making love at a side table. The guard stopped, snickered, camera angle, he was wearing underpants withSpank Me Please, written on them.

Bruno runs through a room where a man is passionately making love to a woman. It then cut to a close-up of the woman looking very bored and doing her nails. The grand finally was the guards rushing about the hall and then pulling down their pants. I wisely decided not to use Whitney's reaction to the Guard Sergeant wearing dirty diapers. But I did get a good one of another guard wearing a frilly garter belt, stockings, and thong all in matching black. Quick cut to JT looking very sour before a pie hits him in the face. With three cameras tight on his face at different angles I had plenty of shots at different angels to use on just one pie hit.

When it ended the room was still quiet. JT looked sternly at me. I haven't known him long enough just what to think. His collar was opened and it was that same poker face Glen Sather would have as he coached the Oilers to five Stanley Cups.

"Remember tell the truth," said Count Zoibe, "we can tell."

"Okay," said JT as he repressed a chuckle, "it's funny, go talk to the Music Director you can do a set, no less than one hour. And we get ten percent."

"Ten percent," I asked.

"Ten percent of video, audio, merchandizing sales, we get ten, you keep ninety in your personal account."

Forty-five minutes later after a conference with the Music Director and his team I was able to have one of my own suits sent to me and I was ready. I figured I should do something about a raunchy as the last performance and did another old military tune, "Balls to your Partner, ass against the wall. If you never been fucked on a Saturday Night, you never been fucked at all." Which by Free Zone standards was pretty tame compared to some song written.

The Music Director had a wide selection of songs from Earth already translated into Coalition Galactic. I sang songs from the sixties to two thousand and five that I still remembered. The back-up singers were all girls from Earth that had contracts that took them out of being sex slaves to music slaves. They gained their freedom in ten years and still work in the music industry. What few jokes I tried to do went flat, so I compensated by adding more songs and the show went to two hours which included other performers who came on to sing with me. In the end I was dead tired. Walking from back stage to Marcy was not easy.

"Good work," Troyabe McDermott smiles as he shook my hand and gave me a pat on the shoulder, "you'll probably make a million or two inside of six months."

"Great," I laughed, "I can buy my way out faster right?"

"Oh no," he chuckled as he puffed on his cigar, "we get ten percent, what you earn cannot be paid to the company. Besides we have a contract to sell you. It will be up to your new owners' whether or not you sing again." He waved to a beautiful girl and left me.

"Got to hand it to you kid," said Uncle Paul giving me a pat on the bum, "you must like getting it up the ass."

"What did I do," I asked.

"You should have said seventy/thirty, they take seventy, and you get thirty. Heck you could have been working for me in six months. Now I'm going to go to plan B. But don't worry I'll have plenty of advise for you then. You haven't seen the last of your Uncle Paul."

"See what happens when you don't have a personal manager," said Count Zoibe as he patted me on the shoulder. "Some people think they are wasting money and that they are smarter than everybody else. And you are smart, just not wise enough." He then gave me a great hug before he looked me honestly in the eyes. "I never served under or with Admiral Speedwell. I envy you, she is a great leader, and tomorrow you will definitely be under her." He laughed and walked away.

"You ready to go home," Marcy asked me.

"Yea," I sighed, "want to walk me home?"

"You do know my father definitely fucked you right?"

"And like I ass I grabbed it and shoved it right up there." Mandy took my hands and cuffed them behind my back. "Hey what's up?"

"I have a new job to do, and you need some rest. I think a little alone time is what you need. Besides," she gave me a hard side look, "you broke my android. Maybe I can rent one not owned by the company that will spank me."

"Oh yea," I asked trying to get close to her, "but is it as cute as me." Marcy leaned to within an inch of my face.

"No," she smiled and headed to her house. "Diaper bondage till one hour before the Admiral's Party," she told Mandy.

"Ahh not diaper bondage," I cried as Mandy frog-marched me to a public transit station. "Look can't we at least take a hover-cab," I protested. "I can pay."

"The night air is good for you," said Mandy as its voice sounded more mechanical. "Be thankful I was not instructed to transport you as a proper Bonded Sex Slave."

"Proper?"

"Naked with a leash around your neck."

As we stood at the bus-stop and a group of young people gathered there as well. They looked in their late teens, but on Free Skyes they were in their twenties. They giggled with each other, openly kissed groped and during the ride two of them stretched out on a bench and made love. Everybody was polite this was not the public transit on Earth. Two other boys got on in para-military outfits, one had a patch with me when I sang to the spacemen on his shoulder. It was creepy, a fan is ten feet away and didn't even notice me.

Even the Boom-boom Room didn't seem the same. People came and went. Unfortunate people were in public booths being punished. Mandy took me to my room, stripped me, put a diaper on me, then tied me to the spanking post and left me there. I had no idea what would happen next except a respected Space Admiral wanted to have some time with me.