After about twenty minutes, you arrive to the city, and you approach the first pub that you see around the place. The building itself is made of stone, just like any other structure that you could find on the planet. At the front, you can see numerous desks lined up in rows, most of them empty due to the heat. On the walls, you can see windows in the shape of a circle, all closed, the door itself a giant slob of multi layered metal. At the front, you can see a board with a single sentence written on it, and you chuckle: If you are a Helcion, you can hop right in for a collar!
But that is just the way the Zeta Sector works. It all started at the height of the Star Frenzy, when the first cost friendly FTL engine became available for the masses, and new colonies started popping up everywhere. Most of the time these planets would either band together, and form their own alliances, or they would choose to remain alone at the lack of outside threats. Except that in this case the new planets were not just spitting distance from each other, but the Coalition and Adania were already close by, two viable outside threats, which enabled the local corporations to morph these planets into a state of their own making: a loose alliance that would grant them free reign over the masses.
In fact, the first rule they've introduced was the legalization of slavery, through a series of institutions that allowed anyone to keep their own servants, sheer finances being the sole limit to one's power. As a result, people from all walks of life became hyper-incentivized to do their best in their professional lives. Prioritizing education over relationships. Working long hours after they graduated, with the belief that they could buy the servant of their dreams or they could use slavery to build their own empire. One could say a system like this was doomed to fail from the start. But those who were born into it worked hard to keep the corporations happy, promoting an increased degree of automation to take care of any problem that would arise. The only thing that could threaten the system was a projected drop in population. But as it turned out immigration could solve the problem just fine: the Coalition alone producing millions of immigrants each year, as the state just keeps waging war with almost every one of its neighbours. Most of these people end up with a collar on their necks. That is true. But that just further enforces the corporation's mentality, as those who were born here, have a good job and a degree feel so far above others they don't even think that they could end up as slaves. And if they do. Who the hell would listen to them anyways?
And that's how you arrive to the lovely sentence on the board: If you are a Helcion, you can hop right in for a collar! The residents of Alescia are not worried about being invaded by the Coalition. They feel themselves above them. Neither they are angry at Helcion IV for breaking away from the corporations and thus endangering the sector's safety (Why would they?), they simply detest Helcions because they have the typical slave owner as a woman, while on Alescia, it is usually the opposite. Yes: that is just the extent the zetans have an insight on their problems!
"Two Earthers please," the man tells the bartender as you walk inside the pub. He hops onto one of the chairs in front of the desk. You aim to do the same, but the next moment, you are pushed on your knees, his hand firmly placed on your shoulder. You almost forgot! Slaves belong on their knees in the presence of their owners.
The bartender gives you the shots. Your captor drinks the first in one go, then the second cup is held in front of you.
"I would drink it if I were you," the man says. You choose to obey, and you gulp down the liquor. You think you deserve at least this much before things get ugly.
"That would be two telers," the bartender says. In your mind, it pops up that these guys always demand the local currency, with no exchange possible (unless you are willing to melt your coins and morph them into ship parts). You recall, you had some telers on your ship. Just in case for emergencies. But then you realize that the man might not have any telers either. A problem that might just have a convenient solution.
"Actually, my slave will cover the costs," he says, and he looks down to you. Of course!
You turn your gaze to the bartender, but he just laughs. So does everyone else in the pub. Yes, you are in the land of slavers. And you are the slave. And more importantly: you are an adenian slave. Part of the the perhaps few thousand women everyone wants to have fun with.
On the other hand... You find this trail of thought a fond one. You always wanted to have a gangbang. Just for the novelty. But prior to your capture, there was no way for you to enact this fantasy. How were you supposed to go about it? Go to the pub, and as one of the crews if they willing to fuck you in their cargo hold?
But now you are here. With nothing to lose as you are already at the hands of a pirate. And thus you turn around, take a few steps on your knees, then you open your mouth as wide as you could, your eyes closed in the anticipation of a cock.
"Ladies and gentlemen, one load, one teler!" you hear your captor say. And the show starts at it's earnest.
