Everyone is over eighteen.
Welcome to pornography.
The story that I am writing now, I have no choice but to tell and to tell it honestly, accurately and completely, my story must be pornography.
I was now on paper the slave of my sister the Lady Gaia, heir and scion of the mighty House of Vetronius. But in making me a slave, she had also freed me and so our relationship had become complex. I did not yet understand how complex.
Adding to that complexity in danced Cat -- the sexy, relentless, wicked Hibernian pixie -- my fellow slave, who in the small hours of the night had so willing given herself to me.
What now, Gaius? What now?
I was then wholly uncertain of my future but I can tell you, gentle readers, come what may -- it must be pornography.
Chapter III
Marsday morning arrived far too fucking early. We slaves were up at dawn for exercises and breakfast. The calisthenics were interminable. The food remained plain, simple fair -- oatmeal and wheat toast. But there was also black coffee, off-ripe oranges, raisins, cherished little cups of butter and sealed packets of honey. There were worse things to be than (what had Cat called us?) the pampered pets of the highborn. Anyways, after all the fornication, the weed and the workout I was famished so I dug in.
Adonya, both my suite-mate and last night's playmate, had arrived at the cafeteria ahead of us. She waved us over enthusiastically. She wasn't alone. She was already sitting together with a cluster of about a dozen other slave girls.
"Look who it is," she growled, "my favorite pretty boy."
"Good morning, Miss Adonya," I said with a bow, before taking a seat.
"You're right, Donnie, he do sound all proper," said one of the girls in a rough plebian drawl.
"Don't be fooled, ladies," I said to the crowd, "I have been informed by the highest of the highborn that I am both a dangerous death-marked slave and completely improper."
"That's alright," said another one of the other girls I didn't know, "I likes to get improper myself."
"Back it down, Becca!" said Donnie genuinely defensively. "I saw him first! Now, pretty boy, let me introduce you to the girls!"
Thus I got to meet a whole raft of other slaves from nearby rooms. They were uniformly friendly and eager to introduce themselves. Cat, Zee, Stella and especially myself were all sufficiently unusual to earn attention and to already obviously be well discussed.
Donnie did the introductions. "This is Becca, Bobby, Babs, Jenny, Julie, the other Jenny, Millie, Maxie, Miranda and..."
This morning I found myself once more a sort of local celebrity. The reason for this attention was simple. I was the only guy in our entire dormitory. Despite the legal formality that I was not, in fact, a man, it seemed I was sufficiently male for these girls.
Here was my situation. The Q was filled to capacity this semester. That meant sixty students on each of the five floors -- three hundred of the Empire's finest, brightest, most entitled young women who came from either money or nobility and usually both. And with them, there were almost twice their number of slaves whose only duty was to serve their ladies. So if you do the math -- that means there were just shy of nine hundred young women living in close proximity with just one single solitary dude -- me.
The nobles of course had no interest in a lowly slave (except, I hoped, for one). The ladies were free to leave the dorm at their leisure. On campus, there were plenty of guys -- rich, hot, titled future husbands galore!
But the slave girls -- they were another matter. Most did not enjoy the same cozy relationship with their domina as we in 513 did. In fact, many were treated as little more than a personal grooming appliance tucked away in a corner of the lady's dorm. Thus these girls were often trapped in the Q for the majority of the day. If they tried to leave without permission, they faced DeeDee's lash. Yes, they had their chores to keep them busy. But they had near zero prospect of coming into contact with a male person. You know, except for me.
Lest you think my ego too out of control, understand that many of these slave girls also had no interest in me. A noble woman with a lesbian valet was a literary trope for a reason. I had no doubt the majority of these young women needed me like a dolphin needs an umbrella. But there were enough exceptions that this morning, I found myself literally surrounded.
Also, I'm pretty sure that Donnie had spilled to all her friends that I had gone down on her last night. Yeah. That had stayed a secret for less than four hours. I did my best to be sociable and remember all their names. I was only half successful at that last one.
As I pleasantly chatted with these girls and scarfed down oatmeal, it became clear to me that most of the slaves living in the Q had extremely similar stories. They were raised on rural noble estates and had been the chosen servant and companion of their lady since they were children. Peasants give their kids dollies. Nobles give their children slaves.
Now they were off to the Collegium to serve their domina and, while perhaps glad to see a bit more of the world, they were also homesick for their absent friends and family. Oh, and they didn't like DeeDee. The longer they had lived in the Q, the less they liked her.
I liked Donnie's gang well enough but there was one great barrier to deep friendship between these girls and all the inhabitants of the Lady Gaia's room -- education. Even though we all were over eighteen (a requirement of living in this dorm), most of Donnie's girls were illiterate or nearly so. Some had never travelled off their home estate even once before coming here. They had lived their entire lives on a farm somewhere in the rural depths of the New Empire.
Don't misunderstand me. These girls weren't stupid -- you don't remain the personal valet of a noble lady by being an inattentive idiot. But I was consistently astounded by what they didn't know. By the end of my first breakfast, I had encountered girls who did not know what province of the Empire they currently resided in. Most seem to barely care about the Empire at all, truth told. The world simply was as it was and they had been assigned their place in it.
This ignorance and apathy was no willful choice. These lowborn young women had simply never been deemed worthy of any sort of schooling. Gods, there were people just like this on my family's holdings.
In fact, there were thousands.
Until today, I had barely ever spoken with any of them, save to issue commands.
***
After breakfast, we returned to the room. Today, we actually had to wake up my sleepy sister. She looked so beautiful, angelic, in her repose. Zee made us all a wonderful pot of spicy chai tea. After the bland breakfast fare, it was heavenly. We also shared a round of the brown butter chocolate chip cookies from our suite-mate, the Lady Marcie. They remained just as awesome as they had been two days ago and perfectly complimented the tea. There was one cookie missing and Cat lied and said she'd eaten it yesterday during a snack attack. She had in fact use it to earn Donnie's help setting up a trade of weed for our new air mattress.
"That's fine, Cat," said Gaia, "but don't take anyone else's."
"Of course, domina," answered Cat. Gods, in only a few days, my sister had become our den mother. It was almost shocking how easily we were all sliding into our assigned roles as domina and slaves.
Once more Gaia and Stella were soon off to a full day of classes and we slaves embarked upon the morning routine. Clean up the room. Open up the balcony and air the dorm out. Help Adonya clean the shared bathroom. Do Gaia's and our own laundry. I was living the life of a kept domestic. I'd complain but it wouldn't change a damn thing and this was wildly preferable to my previous stint in prison.
The company wasn't bad either.
We were done soon enough and that meant once more I was facing long hours of boredom. We had a TV in the room. Immediately after lunch, I foolishly decided to check out what was on.
I pressed the heavy button on Gaia's top of the line, brand new black and chrome TV and it hummed to life. I turned the nob and found out quick enough via a close circuit splash page that the only programming that was allowed we slaves was the creatively named Slave TV. "STV! All day! Empire wide! Today is a great day!" Please don't rise up, follow yet another Spartacus to war and try to burn the Empire down!
Okay, that last part, I made up.
Tuning into any other channel required Gaia's student code punched in on this big heavy black box on top of the TV and, anyways, such viewing was a rules violation if Gaia wasn't present. Not that I ever saw anyone check.
Regardless, I had tuned in just in time to catch a new episode of the STV daytime drama "His Will, My Heart." I, being a former bored noble, thought I knew Imperial TV pretty well but I had never even heard of this program. So out of curiosity I watched a thirty minute episode.
Gods, it was pure dreck.
This so-called entertainment was nothing more than equal measures of pro-slavery propaganda mixed with largely soft-core pornography wedded to the thinnest of narratives. The main character, a very attractive young slave girl named Diane (who seemed to bend over and show her very pretty bottom a lot), served Master Jack. The conflict of this episode? Master Jack is going to have a baby with his free wife Jill and Diane is super jealous. Diane, you see, also desperately wants to have Master Jack's baby.
"Oh, I so want to give my dominus another slave!" proclaimed Diane dreamingly over breakfast. "Oopsie! Clumsy me, I dropped my spoon!"
Butt shot!
