*Author's note: This is based on the slave grading universe of Joe_Doe_Stories. This is all a fantasy. The story contains some partial non-consensual sexual themes and slavery. If this isn't your thing please do not continue reading. All characters are 18 years old and above. Although this is part of the slave grading universe I did make certain adjustments to a few things here and there as I'm sure most stories do as well. Whatever, Happy reading!*
It's that time of the year again, to celebrate one's birthday. But that also means that once every few years you have to renew your driver's license too.
I don't like coming here but once in awhile everyone has too at some point for some reason. I'm at Service NB in Saint-John, Canada. My birthday is tomorrow and my driver's license/I.D expires that day. I'd rather not get a fine for driving with an expired license in the possibility that I get arrested for something, so today is the day to get it renewed.
It was a Tuesday morning, I arrived 50 minutes after the place opened and there was a decently long line of people by the door all lined up. Great. But usually they go through people pretty fast. I was outside for about 9 minutes when the line moved into the building.
I had to first get to the desk and be given a number for the reason why I was here so they could categorize my paperwork stuff. Then after that was more waiting for my number to be called up and then I can pay the small fee to get a new picture for my license/I.D and get out of there. The "taking a new picture" part isn't necessary but since I lost like 40 pounds in the last few years I looked much more different than my current I.D pic.
My short brown hair was now long jet black with some magenta streaks and my face looked much less... well I don't want to say fat but yeah, I looked in much better shape than 3 years ago.
Suddenly I hear:
"NEXT!" from the front desk lady.
Finally it was my time to get my number. I walked up, and placed my about to be expired I.D on the table.
"Hi, I'm here to renew my I.D please."
The desk lady picked up my card, she inspected the card and then looked back at me a few times to make sure that it was the same person. I did really need that new picture that badly if she had a hard time seeing that it was me on there.
"Alright, let me double check your information, tell me if something's off girly."
"Emma Bleich, White-Caucasian, Born June 5th, 2001, Blue eyes, Short brown hair, 5 ft 1, 168 lbs..." she went on to the rest of the card's info.
I made sure to correct her of my weight and hair color/length. Then she asked me for the one thing I hated being asked all the damn time ever since this became a thing in our world.
"You don't have a slave grade hun?"
I hated being asked that constantly. I also hated that there was a mandatory and a supplementary course in highschool where we had to learn the basics of slave yoga and in the advanced class you would be subjected to a full 72 hours slave experience by going to a camp in Halifax, Nova Scotia. I sure as hell didn't take the extra course but I hated the slave yoga. So degrading!
I absolutely refused to get slave graded as I was extremely efficient at saving money and not ever accumulating debt of any kind. I didn't even have a credit card! 3 of my friends went and they all came back with Select grades. The cherry on top is that because they can expose their pussy to the world they are now better paid than me by default even though I'm much smarter and better at my job than they'll ever be! It's outrageous!!
Whatever, I had expected the question to rise and prepared myself for it.
"No. I don't have a slave grade. I do not wish to be slave graded."
"Oh, that's odd coming from someone like you, I'm sure you'd do extremely well at it."
I was a bit taken aback by the compliment, I had never thought of myself as being hot as a girl. It was nice to hear, even though it was related to something I'd never do.
"Oh... well thank you. I... um, so can I get my number for the I.D renewal please?" I asked attempting to clear the subject.
"Yes, yes, sorry honey, it's kinda part of my job to motivate girls to get chipped and graded now that we have the local grading station in the building. Oh... hmm... looks like we have a little issue here."
"What's wrong?"
I was getting nervous, what could be going wrong? I had the right papers on me. What's the problem now?
"It seems that since you have changed so much since your last I.D that you'll have to pass a small medical exam. Although there's one minor problem."
"What?" I asked getting increasingly nervous.
"The civilian doctor is out sick and with no details on when she'll be back. Although there is an alternative, but you may or not like it."
"Please, tell me."
"The slave doctor can perform the exam but you'll have to join a troop of 3 slaves and you'll be marked as "not to be sold". But you'll have to be slave naked for it."
Slave naked. The common definition of the slave attire. Of course in colder weather conditions slaves are allowed to have clothes to protect themselves from the harsh weather but in June where it's 25-33 degrees celsius slaves are kept naked, safe for their usual "clothes", if you can call it that. The only clothes slaves can and must wear at all times are their thick steel collars and their leather cuffs on their wrists and ankles. Of course all locked on and impossible to open without the proper key, chains of various lengths can also be locked onto the cuffs to restrain the slave further. Typically you'll see a single slave in her cuffs with her hands either in front or behind her with a 6 inch chain barley allowing for movement. Her ankles are locked with a 14 inch chain to allow for very slight movements but definitely no running, and a leash is locked or clipped to the collar's front ring to lead the slave to where she has to go.
There had to be another way. I am NOT going slave naked here.