Betelgeuse Rule: Maing the Grade

For those who may not be familiar with legalized slavery, the main title is a subsection of the 34

th

Amendment, which allows for self-enslavement, commonly known as the "Betelgeuse" rule throughout the industry, but generally considered to be a myth within the general population.

("Beetlej****" has both a Copyright and a Trademark for merchandizing; therefore, I avoided that spelling, but you get the point if you've seen the movie. All characters are 18+ years old and bear no resemblance to anyone.)

A big thanks to Carl Bradford who edited my story and added the clarity I tend to skip over.

"Emmy, what am I going to do? I've really messed up this time. My GPA will be ruined," cried Allison.

"What on Earth are you talking about, Allie?" she asked. Emily had suspected Allie was a drama queen during freshman orientation and this only further confirmed her suspicions. What could possibly be so traumatic? This was only the third week of their first year at UT Dallas.

"Slave Yoga, that's what. I signed up for it thinking it would just be like other yoga classes I've taken and would be an easy 'A'. The other girls are so good at it, I'm at the bottom of the class and I will flunk."

"Why don't you just drop the class and pick something else?"

"The date to switch classes was last week. If I fail to maintain a full, 18-credit-hour class load and at least a B+ average, I'll be dropped from the basketball team. Who knew that 'Slave Yoga' was actually about training to possibly become a slave?"

"Allie, do you mean to say didn't know about this before you got here? Just about everyone on this campus, knows that. We all had to take it in high school. That's why your classmates are so good, as they have practiced it for at least one year if not more. The better your slave moves and mantras, the higher the grading you will get when you turn 18. The higher your grading is, the more college loans you can qualify for because the more you will be worth if you default on your loans. This is serious business for all students who need funding down here. Of course, they are going to be good at it. Didn't your school require it?"

"I attended a private, college-prep academy in Connecticut run by Jesuit priests. Slavery and everything associated with it were forbidden topics on campus. Even our sex ed classes were censored, Emmy."

"Are you saying that you still have your V-card?"

"Oh, no, not at all. Our classes were filtered by the school but after school, off-campus activities weren't. We could go home on the weekends and between semesters. We saw slaves occasionally but nobody ever paid any attention to them. Well, maybe that's not quite true. I could see my boyfriend struggle to adjust his shorts when some hottie passed by wearing just a collar and nothing else. I have to admit some strange feelings stirring as my panties got wet from seeing some of the naked studs in our town. Jimmy and I even played around with a collar and cuffs once. I have to say that my orgasm was more intense then, but 'slave training' and 'slave yoga' were nothing of interest to us."

"Really? No interest in being a helpless slave, a victim? It sounds like you have a case of the 'Catholic-Girls-Must- Be-Raped' Syndrome."

"The what?" asked Allie, sounding shocked.

"The CGMBR syndrome. Studies have found that girls raised in a strict religious environment, not necessarily Catholic, respond best sexually when 'forced' to do it believing that you are not sinning if you have no control. Most intense masturbatory fantasies revolve around bondage and domination. It's quite common, almost one-third of the women surveyed admitted their best responses occurred when they were totally dominated or restrained by their partners."

Allie turned '50 Shades of Red' as she thought back over some of her day dreams and this new revelation into her psyche. Struggling to recover her composure, she replied, "Well, Northerners are not inclined to talk openly about what goes on behind closed doors, so I'm somewhat naïve about a lot of things like alternative sex practices, and slave training and grading are not topics that are open for discussion."

"Wow, things are really different in New England. Down here almost everyone, who is anyone, is eager to be graded. It's not only a rite-of-passage, like being old enough to learn to drive or old enough to drink, but it's also gives you bragging rights and a certain social status, especially for cheerleaders and other 'popular' groups. It even is a source of pride for parents if you happen to grade at any level of 'Prime'. Being good at 'Slave Yoga' is an important step to getting that 'Prime' brand." Having said that, Emmy pulled her shorts and panties down to reveal her Big D brand, centered on her left cheek.

"You were branded!?" asked Allie.

"You bet I was and I couldn't be prouder, so are my folks. Oh, it hurt like Hell and I screamed and pissed myself before passing out. It took a little more than two weeks before I could sit comfortably but it was worth it. This badge, as they call it, shows everyone who sees it that I'm top shelf, a top 5 percenter. You should see the guys' stare when I wear a bikini. I was able to get a loan big enough to cover all four years of college, taking all the financial strain off my family," explained Emmy as she pulled her shorts back up.

"Well, I have to admit it looks beautiful but I'll never be good enough at this yoga to earn a 'Prime' grade. I'm too worried about my school grades."

"You are athletic enough; you just need an attitude shift and some practice. I can help you with both, we can work-out together and I'll take you to the Big D to see what it is all about and how exciting it can be. You might even want to get a set of pink practice cuffs and a collar like Tammy and April wear during class. They will help you get in the mood. What do you say, 'Deal?'

"Maybe but what I want to know is, what's in it for you; this seems like a big commitment of your time."

"Well for one thing, I'll never get any studying done with you moping around moaning about how unfair life is and second, it could be a real hoot-n-holler to see you squirming as you watch the slave grading process."

"Okay, I guess but how do I get a set of pink, plastic cuffs like Tammy and April before our next class on Monday?"

Emmy glanced at the stack of books on her desk and knew she didn't have time to drag Allie to Sam the Slaveman's shop this weekend, so she suggested that Allie go online and ask for next-day delivery. She grabbed a change of clothes then headed to the bathroom to shower off the track practice sweat before dinner.

Allie felt like a tremendous burden had been off her back and she plunked herself down at her computer. She typed 'Sam the Sl......" and before she could finish typing the name, a whole list of locations in Texas populated the screen. She clicked on the nearest location and then clicked on the webpage icon. Immediately, the name, logo and picture of the building appeared on a very basic webpage background with a flashing message box warning that it was illegal for anyone under the age of 18 to access this content. Directly below that it asked for her date of birth. She entered 06/12/2012 and hit, "Submit", smiling at the not-so-subtle invitation to become a slave. "Submit, my ass," she thought.

The little wheel spun round and round in the middle of the page, pissing Allie off. "For what I'm paying here at UT, you'd think they could at least have high-speed internet," she fumed to herself. Finally, a new screen popped up and she was impressed with how professionally designed the page looked, unlike the cover page.

There were pictures of both male and female models(?) in various chains, manacles, collars and fetish gear. She didn't notice any brandings, so she assumed they actually were just 'models', but photos can always be air brushed, so she still wasn't sure. Across the top of the page were a number of pull-down menu buttons, so she clicked on the one that said, 'Playtime'. A new page appeared with pictures of leather collars and cuffs, fuzzy handcuffs and ankle cuffs, ballgags, ring gags, paddles, floggers and whips. There were several colors to choose from in the plastic, beginners' kits but she thought it best to get pink to blend in with the other girls. Thirty-five dollars charged to her credit card and it was done, with five of it being for same-day delivery.

Leaning back in her chair, she let her imagination run loose a minute as she pictured herself 'slave naked' except for her pink collar and cuffs. Emmy was holding her leash and a riding crop. She was dressed in black, thigh-high boots and a bustier to match. She could smell Emmy's arousal and licked her lips as she couldn't help but stare at her glistening labia. Unconsciously, she slipped a hand under the waist band of her skirt and panties, as her mind told her to kneel between Emmy's long legs.

Fo-o-o-sh! The sound of the toilet flushing in the next room, snapped Allie back to reality and she blushed as she jerked her hand away from her clit before Emmy could catch her. She took a deep breath and relaxed a little when she heard the water in the sink running.

Emmy emerged from the bathroom and suggested they head for the dining hall for the first seating, that way they would have a longer, uninterrupted time to study afterwards. Allie jumped up and grabbed her purse while Emmy grabbed her mace and headed for the door, right behind Allie. The dining hall was half way across campus and the chances of encountering a rogue slaver during this economic downturn were not to be ignored. One girl had gone missing during the summer session and Emmy was determined not to be the second.

As the two walked along, if someone had told you that one of them graded 'Prime', you would have had no trouble telling which one, even though both could have been models. It wasn't any physical attribute that set them apart. Allison Murphy was 5'6", 35-24-36, while Emmerson Cane was 5'7", 36-25-35, and both had pixy-cut, blond hair, hardly a noticeable difference. No, it was the attitude that came through in their posture as they walked. Allie walked looking ahead of them and slightly downward at the sidewalk. Emmy walked with her chin slightly up, looking more into the distance, not so far up as to appear pompous or arrogant, but just enough to display a confident, relaxed manner. Yes, grading 'Prime' does wonders for ones' self-assurance and it shows.

Emmy resumed their early talk as they walked, "So, you have been with a boy, have you ever been with a girl or even kissed one?"

'No, why do you ask?"

Emmy grabbed Allie's shoulders and spun her 90 degrees to face her, took her head in both hands and planted a big kiss on her. Allie's eyes flung wide open in response and she pulled back for just an instant, clenched her thighs together and then dove back in, tongue and all. Emmy hugged Allie so tightly, she almost squeezed all the air out of her.

It was only a few second embrace when Emmy broke it off. "You're flushed, aren't you?! You have a strange tingly in your body now, don't you? What you need to ask yourself over dinner is, was it stirring because you wanted it or because it was forced upon you?" Emmy took Allie's hand in hers and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

Dinners were served 'family style' in the dining hall with 8 students to a table. As you would suspect, the jocks sat together, the nerds sat together, classmates sat together and the conversations at each were totally predictable and pointless, at least to Allie. Allie was lost in private thought as conversations about boys and new clothing swirled around her. Did being dominated really turn her on or was it her secret crush on Emmy that bubbled to the surface in that moment? Either way, her panties were wet and she knew she had to kiss Emmy again.

The walk back to the dorm offered no opportunity for an intimate moment as the sidewalks were bustling with others either going to second seating or coming back from first. Allie wondered when would be the right time to raise the issue again, maybe after a good night's rest.

Entering the dorm, they ran into Liz, the resident assistant. "Hey, Allie, I signed for a package for you from Sam the Slaveman's store. Are you two doing something kinky? If so, I want in on it. Just a minute, I'll grab it from my desk."

Allie couldn't hide her embarrassment and Emmy just laughed. "Here, let's give the dorm something to gossip about," and she grabbed Allie and started to passionately kiss and fondle her just as Liz stepped out of her room into the hall holding a larger than expected package.

"Oh, please stop. How am I going to be able to study tonight imagining what you two are doing up in your room? Here's your package, I don't even want to know what might be in it, just be quiet about it. Good night." Liz quickly slipped back into her room and shut the door. Allie was mortified but undeniably aroused. Emmy just laughed all the way up the stairs to their floor.

Allie set the package on her desk and grabbed a pair of scissors from her desk drawer, all the while wondering how plastic cuffs could be so heavy. Emmy took the scissors from Allie before she could snip the tape from the box.

"Study first. I can't have you playing with your new toys while I'm trying to study. Like you said about keeping your grades up, we can't do anything about your 'slave yoga' grade tonight, so don't let your other grades slide. You can open your box before bed and maybe you'll have some sexy, slave dreams."

Allie gave a shrug and put the box on the floor. She quickly decided that she needed to put time in on her Biology 101 class as the prof was known to give pop quizzes and then Allie finished reading for her History of Western Civilization class. Three hours later both she and Emmy closed their books and sat back. They both looked at the infamous box on the floor and then laughed.

Emmy looked over and handed Allie back her scissors, "Okay, you've earned, open it up. I'll be right back," and she headed for the bathroom.

Allie bit her lip as she picked the package up and put it on her desk. Just looking at the box caused a stirring inside her and she rubbed herself through her silky panties. "Why do I feel this way?' she mused as she took a long, slow breath through her nose then exhaled through her mouth, licking her lips in the process. She was almost shaking as she slid the scissors under the corner of the tape wrapped across the top. Opening the box, she was surprised to see another box inside, only it was a plain, wooden one with an envelope taped to the lid. She removed the box and knocked the packaging to the floor to make room to set the box down. She was just opening the letter when Emmy returned dressed in her pajamas and asked, "What's that?"

"I don't know but we are going to find out together and she started reading out loud. "Dear Ms. Murphy: We are currently out of the items you requested. We received this set as a trading-in towards a more fully-featured set but there are few scratches on the cuffs and we didn't want to resell even slightly marred merchandise. They are fully charged and ready for play. Please accept this basic slave set with our apology, at no cost other than delivery fees, and remember Sam the Slaveman's stores for all your fantasy needs. Sincerely, Linda Ames, Manager."

"Wow. Did you luck out. Even the most basic slave sets can go for up to $1200, if they are Titanium. Open the box. Open the box," Emmy chirped excitedly, obviously having more than a casual interest in it all.

There was nothing fancy in the box itself but it was divided into individual slots for each of the components. The collar was set in the center with the charger, the remote and the owner's manual. In the top left slot were the wrist cuffs with a separate connecting link. In the right, were the ankle cuffs and a separate hobble chain. Directly below all of this was a long slot, the length of the box, containing a leash, a ball gag and a ring gag.

"May I?" asked Emmy, as she took one of the wrist cuffs out of the box. Allie nodded, 'Yes' and Emmy snapped it on her right wrist. It caused Emmy to lick her lips as she flashed back to her grading time at the Big D. She almost rubbed her pussy but stopped herself and with a quick tug, separated the magnetic lock. "See, they all just snap on and off. They shouldn't lock unless you use the remote. Your turn, 'COLLAR'" she commanded in the most unconvincingly, serious, but quiet voice she could muster, as she didn't want to be heard by anyone in the hallway outside their room.

Allie looked stunned for a moment and then knelt in front of Emmy as she had seen Tammy and April do before yoga class. Emmy dutifully placed the collar around Allie's neck and snapped it closed. She attached the leash and pulled her to her feet. Allie was overcome with a flood of conflicting thoughts but all she knew for sure was that she wanted Emmy.

"This isn't right, you know. If you're going to wear a slave collar, you have to be slave naked, so 'STRIP'.

Allie couldn't believe her ears and yet she really wanted to strip. How could she just shuck her clothes in front of her friend, they had never seen each other naked before but she wanted to and so she did. No slow, showy, strip tease, just pull them off and throw them on the floor. She almost raised her hands to try to cover herself but she stopped. She wanted Emmy to see her, to touch her, to order her around. This was how it was supposed to be, wasn't it?

Emmy took it all in and stepped closer to Allie, lifting her chin with her finger and staring into the eyes of her new toy. She stroked Allie's neck and then tweaked her nipples. Allie oo'ed in response and tried to push her tits into Emmy's hands but Emmy drew back and laughed. "What a naughty slave girl you are. You haven't shaved. Get in the shower and remove every bit of hair below your eyebrows, now."

Allie's eyes bugged out. "Shave!? I just started to grow a little patch two years ago and I have to shave it off? It's not fair," she thought. Unfortunately, she thought a little too long in Emmy's mind and she reeled her in close with the leash, unclipped her, spun her around and smacked her on her butt, sending her scurrying for cover in the bathroom. No sooner had she closed the door then the tingling of the smack on her ass settled into her brain and her hands when straight to her pussy. She dropped to her knees as she fingered herself to completion.

"I don't hear any water running," threatened Emmy through the door. There had better not be any stray hairs left or I will pull them out one-by-one. Use that cream in the blue tube in my medicine cabinet when you are done. It will keep you smooth for a month or more."

Allie couldn't comprehend how she was loving this new direction in her relationship with Emmy and jumped in the shower. She lathered up with hand soap as best she could and began the careful task demanded of her. She rubbed her fingers over the newly bared skin and bit her lip to stop from moaning with pleasure. She read the instructions on the blue tube, "Apply freely and wait 10 minutes before wiping off." She set about drying her hair, a barely 2-minute task considering how short her hair was. The tingling, burning, aching feeling was growing and Allie pranced about trying to ignore the discomfort. Finally, she assumed that had to be long enough and grabbed a wash cloth to remove the offending substance, only to see a deep, red rash. She quickly applied some aloe vera cream on to the whole area and relaxed as the burning was replaced by a cool, soothing sensation. She was in for another surprise as she exited the bathroom, Emmy had removed her pajamas and was standing there nude, waiting for her.