Ell, the P-A Synopsis

Elise, a pauper, is bought by a ‘do-gooder’ woman at Shanty Town and given to her son as a slave to take his mind away from his work and to help him overcome his reluctance to socialise with women in the hope that he will find a suitable girl to marry. Does she succeed?

Ell, the P-A

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF Rom inc (mentioned)

If you are underage or offended by such material, or if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental. The ideas and thoughts that follow are pure fantasies. In real life, at the very least they would be unpleasant and probably illegal. Fantasies are like that; daydreams where we can contemplate and imagine the sensations without suffering or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation.

© obohobo 2009

Clive. - A Gift

“Oh shit, here comes Mother and it sounds as if she’s bringing a visitor. Why does she have to disturb me when I’m working? She knows I’m pushed for time to get this car put together in time for the race.”

“He’s probably in his workshop. We’ll go straight in because he’ll get annoyed if he has to stop and open the door.” I didn’t even look up when I heard the door open and Mother exclaim, “Clive dear, I’ve bought you a present. Get inside where he can see you girl.”

Girl? Bought? Reluctantly I put the injector assembly carefully on the bench, turned and saw this dirty figure nervously standing, head bowed, just inside the door. “Obviously a ‘paup’ from one of the camps on the other side of town where mother did her charity work,” I thought. “Take her away and get your money back mother, I don’t want or need her. Whatever possessed you to buy her? One of your do-gooder deeds I suppose. I’ve enough problems with this engine if I’m to get it tuned up for the race on the weekend after next, without having to deal with the neurotic emotions of some girl.”

“No Clive I’m not taking her back, she’ll be better off with you, however mean you are. She’s one of the paupers from Shanty Town I met when supervising the food kitchen. In any case, she’s legally yours and legally your responsibility, I had all the official paperwork done at the mayor’s office and we’ve been to the doctor’s and he’s taken a blood sample and given her a booster contraception shot. You should get the result of her tests on your comms screen within an hour and copies of the documents should be on there too.”

“I don’t want her mother. You knew that I wouldn’t want a girl, attractive or not, and certainly not that dirty heap of bones and trash rag.” Tears rolled down the girl’s face but I ignored them. “Why didn’t you ask me first?”

“Because I knew what your answer would be and because you’ve become too self-centred and only think of yourself and that precious hover racing car. You’ve no thought for other people, people who are worse off than we are. You hardly speak to me and your sister sees precious little of you these days. You’ve no social life at all and I despair of you ever finding a girl to marry and give me grandchildren. Now you’ve GOT to look after someone because if you don’t and the authorities find out, you’re likely to be in trouble. You should know the rules concerning the welfare of personal assistants, that’s what I told them she’d be employed as, and if you don’t know them, the rules are in with the other documents. She’s fitted with a collar with your name and ID number so forget about the car for a bit and look after your P-A. Dinner is in an hour, get her cleaned up, and yourself too, and make sure you don’t keep cook waiting. It’s time you learned to care for others. Had your father still been alive, I’m sure he would have agreed with me that in the long run, this is for your own good.” With that she flounced from the room leaving the girl crying and looking very forlorn and me angry and rebellious at having a chore I didn’t want. “Typical of my bossy Mother,” I thought, “She decides on something without consulting or worrying about the thoughts and feelings of others and yet she accuses me of the same thing. Then she brings in my father who died before I even knew him.”

“Sit over there for five minutes while I finish putting this together,” I snapped at the girl and indicated a chair in the corner. Five minutes became ten and then twenty as my mind wrestled with adjusting the aperture/mix ratios on the computer chip. A slight movement made me turn and I saw the girl squatting on the floor beside the chair, head bowed and tears running down her face. At first I thought she sat on the floor so as not to dirty the chair with her filthy clothes but afterwards learned she wasn’t allowed to use any of the furniture at home.

“Get up girl, we’ve barely half an hour to get washed and find you something to wear ready for dinner. What’s your name?”

“Elise Sir,” she answered in a voice so low I hardly heard it.

“Well then Ell, come through into the bathroom and we’ll try and wash some of the dirt and that disinfectant smell off you.”

I have the whole of the ground floor of our three-storey house, including my late grandfather’s large, well-equipped workshop, as my personal apartment. The other rooms on this floor, bedroom, bathroom, lounge and kitchen are all of a good size, but most of my non-college time is spent in the workshop on various engineering projects including the XJV racing hover car I’d named ‘Mandy’ after reading that bomber pilots in World War II named their planes. The facilities are there for me to cook a meal but normally I eat with mother and older sister and only use my kitchen for making of drinks and snacks.

“Come on Ell,” I shouted, “Get those rags off, no need to be shy, as my P-A, I’ll see all of you later anyway.” I pressed the remote to start the shower going and began undressing. Elise removed her threadbare, patched tunic and skirt and I stood shocked beyond belief, when I saw her battered, bruised and welted skin and began to imagine the horror of her previous life. Perhaps mother did the right thing in getting her away from whomever she lived with, but why dump her on me? Surely there were agencies to take care of that sort of thing? I felt ashamed to look and her skinny, undernourished body, her small tits and worse, all the dreadful scaring that covered both sides of her young body. “Who did that to you?” I asked but she remained silent and didn’t look me in the face. I decided time was too short to question her further and ordered her under the shower with me and with careful use of synthetic cleansers, managed to remove the dirt without causing her further pain. I did spend a little more time cleaning her tits and cunt than necessary but my mind remained half focussed on injectors, and half on not hurting her rather than on sex. At least the body driers didn’t cause her further pain or abrade her skin like towels would.

Elise. - Bought

I knew I’d get another beating from Dad when I returned to our shack. He’d ordered me to bring him back a bowl of stew but we both knew the new rules; eat the food on the grass where the supervisors can see you eat. In a way the rule was a good one as it ensured that everyone who queued up in the free food line, ate the food and didn’t have it forcibly taken away by others, something that would certainly have happened if I’d taken the food home. My feeble attempt to slip away brought a swift reprimand from the well-dressed woman in charge, who promptly forced me to sit in front of her where she could see me eat. I’d waited in line, my stomach making rude noises, for twenty minutes or so before getting the stew and I certainly wanted and needed the food but knew the consequences of not taking some for Dad. I lingered over the eating and only looked up when Dad roared, “Where’s mine bitch?”

“You know the rules Sir,” the woman said in her official voice, “If you would like a bowl of the stew, go to the end of the line and wait for your turn.” I think he would have thumped her had she not two guards with laser stun guns, stood by her side.

“You’re just a useless bitch,” he turned back to me and I curled into a tight ball on the grass expecting to be kicked or hit, “You cost me more than I can afford and can’t even provide me with a little food.” From his slurred speech I knew he’d been on the homemade liquor. “I’d sell you if I thought someone would be daft enough to buy you. You haven’t even the body to make a good whore.”

Instead of the kick or a thump to my head I expected, from my curled up protective position I heard the cultured voice ask, “How much?” My mind raced. Would Dad really sell me? Would the woman buy me? Why would she?

“1,000 credits.”

“Don’t be ridiculous man, I could get two well-trained maids for that price. 100 credits is more than enough, in fact you should pay me to take her off your hands to save yourself the cost of keeping her.” For a few minutes they bargained over my worth regardless that I sat there and a crowd had gathered around us. I’m sure the woman could have easily paid the asking price but seemed to enjoy forcing Dad to agree to a lower amount. Eventually he sold me for 150 credits, which the woman paid in plastic tokens, and I’ve no doubt most of it will be spent on booze.

“Sit behind the counter until we pack up here and I can get you to the mayor’s office to register your employment legally.” Employment? What did she mean? The guards opened a passage for me through the group surrounding us, amused at the bargaining and no doubt, wondering, like me, at the woman’s motives for buying my services when she knew I’d no training or skills. Officially, no slavery exist these days but men and women can be bought and owned almost like old-time slaves, and in fact, most people refer to them as slaves. Only officialdom calls them ‘owned workers’. Their owners have control over their lives but have to pay them a nominal wage each week. In turn the owners are subjected to legal requirements in the way they look after their purchase. They have to feed, clothe and provide them with accommodation but are allowed to punish them for mistakes in a suitable manner provided hospital treatment isn’t required. The system is open to abuse and few owners are ever prosecuted. We all knew this because from time to time people, mainly men, came to Shanty Town to buy ‘workers’ and we’d heard horror stories from some who’d returned, of how they’d been treated and not so long ago a member of the ruling council made headline news by being given a prison sentence for flogging a maid to death. I tried to make myself realise that there were good stories as well but they were fewer because those workers didn’t return to the Town. All these stories flooded my mind as I sat for hours waiting for the woman to finish. Whatever happened, my life couldn’t be much worse than living with the punishments Dad gave me.

A whirl of activity followed. The woman, Cerise Forsythia, paid a guard to drop me off at the Mayoral Offices where I went through a disinfectant spray that left me smelling of artificial roses even if it didn’t clean me, had my ID checked and after they’d filled in several forms on their comms units, they informed me that a Clive Forsythia now owned me and they listed me as his Personal Assistant. I had no idea who Clive was and, wrongly suspecting he was her husband, wondered if they wanted me to work or be his whore. Not that it mattered. From there we went to a jeweller’s shop that specialises in collars for owned workers and had a satin chrome one fitted and engraved with ‘Elise’ and my owners name. A slight click indicated they’d locked the collar in place, reinforcing the feeling that I was now a real slave. One more stop, this time at the doctor’s clinic where they took a blood sample and gave me several injections, one an anti-contraception booster, so I guessed I’d be fucked by Clive, or whoever. At home, Dad did not allow me to speak unless ordered to do so, so I kept quiet and didn’t ask questions, in any case, I had no choice but to do as Cerise said; she’d bought and paid for me. I was a slave even if officialdom didn’t use that term, and she could whip me if I didn’t obey her.

The huge house in the suburbs looked like a palace to me after living in a one-room shack for the whole of my life. We drove passed well-kept lawns and flower-beds and I supposed they either owned more workers or employed a firm that did. Stopping at a side door, Cerise keyed something into a pad and ushered me along a corridor into a workshop to meet Clive, my new owner, a thin, gawky lad not much older than me. Unfortunately he’d no wish to own me and berated his mother for buying me without his knowledge. Cerise insisted that he look after me and to make sure I arrived at the dinner table on time. Two meals in one day!

He did not make me welcome and resented my disturbing his work on some engine part and I had grave misgivings about my new situation. I cried a little when he sent me to sit in the corner and I wondered if I dared to sit on the chair but in the end I didn’t chance it and sat on the floor. Eventually he stopped work and took me to the bathroom, a room bigger than our whole hut, and made me undress in front of him. His attitude to me thawed a little when he saw the welts Dad had left on my body and the way my bones protruded from my body, but I kept silent about them and allowed him to wash me with warm water and scented gels. His prick started to harden and I noticed it was much the same size as Dad’s so I knew I could take it without trouble, but it didn’t become fully erect. At least he didn’t hit me or force me to my knees and suck it, in fact he treated me very gently and took care not to cause me further pain.

“I’ll throw your rags in the washing machine and then we’ll see if Rachel, my sister, has anything you can wear,” he said and I wondered if I’d be kept naked if she hadn’t.

Clive. - Introductions

“Hi Rachel,” I commed my sister, “Can I borrow one of your old dresses please?” I saw her grin on the screen. “No, not for me, for the new P-A mother has foisted on me. She’s nothing to wear now I’ve put her clothes in the wash.”

“You’ll have to hurry brother dear, I’m just going down for dinner. You could always bring her in her birthday suit.”

“It would put everyone off their food!”

I introduced them but Elise didn’t speak. Rachel took one look at her and uttered, “Yea Gods, she’s a walking skeleton Clive, and those welts look very painful. Poor thing, whoever did this to you, ought to be locked up. I can see what you meant by putting people off their food. When mother mentioned she’d bought you a girl slave, I never expected she’d buy one in this condition but it will give you something to think about other than your main love, Mandy. Certainly she’ll need a lot of tender loving care to get her back to normal and, as she’s your responsibility, that will keep you away from Mandy for a bit.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it, the race is too important and maybe this one won’t need too much looking after.”

We found a dress Rachel had kept from her teenage years that fitted loosely on Ell. “It will be an interesting experience for you to go shopping for women’s clothes in the morning and be careful where you look if there are other women in the shop!” I have a better relationship with my sister than I do with mother and we often trade friendly banter.

“You wouldn’t like to take her? I really do need to spend the time on the car.”

“Oh no, she’s yours and part of the new experiences mother wishes you to feel. I wouldn’t wish to deprive you of that.” She grinned in her teasing way and I tried to persuade her that she needed a living doll to look after but she insisted the pleasure was all mine.

Mother glared at us for being late but commented on how much better Elise looked now she’d had a wash and wore clean clothes. Until Rachel mentioned it, mother had no idea of the state of Ell’s body and simply said, “I didn’t have time to examine the goods before I bought them. Supervising keeps me occupied for the whole time.” If that was the case, I wondered how she had time to buy Ell but managed to keep quiet and not start a row. Elise continued to look down and only answered simple questions with one or two words. About her past, she remained rigidly silent.

“Give her more than that, Cook, she needs fattening up.”

Cook looked doubtfully at me but before I could say anything more Rachel piped up, “You really want her to be sick all over your place? Yes, she does need fattening up but for now she should have a little at a time and at frequent intervals. Make her a sandwich in a couple of hours… and wash your hands before you make it!” she grinned knowing that I’d be back in the workshop. Mother and Cook both added their two pence worth agreeing with her. I kept quiet after that except for suggesting, “As you’re so much better qualified to look after her, you’d better take over,” but they refused to consider it and firmly insisted I take care of her but Rachel generously offered to give me all the advice I needed. From the way she spoke, I knew it would be shopping advice.

They were right about my being in the workshop but with Ell on my mind, I couldn’t concentrate on the injector system so I worked on parts that didn’t sap my concentration. Even then, most of my thoughts concerned the strange girl in the other room. I’d suggested that she tidied the lounge area and watch the newscasts or whatever on the comms unit, but when I looked an hour or so later, the place was tidy and she sat on the floor waiting for my return. I’d forgotten to show her how to work the comm and hadn’t given her permission to sit on a chair and, although she didn’t say anything, I expect her father would have whipped her for sitting on a seat. I softened my stance a little and sat her on a couch and fired up the comms unit but that was as far as I intended to go. My car needed my attention more than her.

For the remainder of the evening, I wondered how she would react to sleeping with me. At this stage, she didn’t sexually stimulate me, but I’d only the one bed and with her sore body, I didn’t wish to inflict further pain by forcing her to sleep on the couch or the floor. Of course I forgot about making her a sandwich until I wanted a snack and a hot drink. I apologised which surprised her and she almost cried again.

Bedtime and I took her into the bathroom and stressed that she could use it at any time but she wasn’t to lock the door. A look of bewilderment and her baby-like pleasure at having warm water to wash with and a toilet within the house, reminded me of the differences in our culture and the benefits I enjoyed from living in a rich household. The welts on her arse and back worried me and I commed Cook to see what she suggested I put on them and fortunately she recommended a cream I already had in the bathroom.

In the warm weather I normally sleep naked and, knowing she had nothing to wear, decided to continue that way and then if and when I felt the urge, I could fuck her without having to undress first. I presumed that as a slave, she’d expect me to do that but I thought it might be better and more enjoyable to wait until the worst of her welts healed.

“You will sleep that side,” I indicated the side near the wall, “And if you need to get up in the night to pee or anything, don’t be afraid to climb over me. I’d rather you did that than wet the bed. Understand?” She only nodded and I wondered how long it would take before she actually spoke more than a few disjointed words and I could find out why she was so repressed. “Get in bed then.” She had a further surprise for me. Instead of getting in and lying down as normal, she lay on her back in the centre of the bed with her legs as wide apart as the bed would allow. Quite obviously she expected me to fuck her. “What are you doing Ell?”

“Dad said…” she didn’t get any further with the explanation. I closed her legs and climbed in alongside with our bodies touching. Needless to say, sleep took a long while to come for me, but she dropped off quickly, probably from exhaustion or maybe from having three meals in one day. For a long while I inwardly debated what to do with Ell without coming to any conclusion and with the weekend starting the next day, I’d hoped to make considerable progress with the XJV but I knew the family, especially Rachel, would make me take her shopping in the morning. Although they hadn’t yet spoken at any length, my sister already created a rapport with Ell and gained her confidence far more than I had.

Elise. - The Meal

Without any concern for my nudity, I didn’t even have any shoes because he’d thrown them in the washing machine with my clothes, he took me in the lift to the top floor into his sister’s room and introduced me as Ell. That seems to be my name now. Rachel is in her early twenties, several years older than Clive, and somewhat taller and much more buxom than me. Firstly she expressed her disgust at the welts covering my body and the state of my skeleton frame. “I thought the food kitchen that mother supervises was supposed to eliminate malnutrition, but it seems that is not the case. I’ll have a word with her about that,” she promised but I didn’t tell her that Dad took most of the food I should have had until the rule about eating on the grass came in. She found me a beautiful dress, one finer than anything I’ve ever owned, “I haven’t worn this since I was a young teenager,” she explained, “And I’ll not get into it now. Keep it. It’s a bit on the loose side, but you should gradually put on weight and fill out a bit in the next few weeks. Here have this belt as well to pull the dress into your waist a bit more.” I could have cried at the unexpected generosity.

Unwittingly, I caused an altercation between my owner, the rest of his family and Cook, an older woman who’d worked for the family for many years. Clive asked her to put more food on my plate but the others railed against him, saying it would make me sick if I ate too much too quickly. I would have eaten it given the chance but with the small amount they gave me, I felt pleasantly full. Clive didn’t seem upset at being reprimanded and I hoped he wouldn’t take his revenge on me later.

He went back in the workshop and set me tidying the lounge and said I could watch the comms newscasts if I wished. There wasn’t much tidying to do but I straightened up his books and discs but I had no idea how to start the comms unit going so I sat on the floor and waited for his return. I didn’t dare sit on one of the couches even in my new dress, and the carpet looked far cleaner than any of the furniture at home. I later learned that contract cleaners using ‘owned workers’ came in once a week and cleaned the whole house.

Eventually he came back, asked why I sat on the floor and not on a chair and gave me a nut bar and a hot malt drink. I’ve had more food today than I’ve had for the past week. We washed again before going to bed, with hot water even. What a change from home. There I’d have to fetch water from the communal standpipe outside the house and washing even with cold water, was a luxury. I watched him pee and he motioned for me to use the toilet too and said I should go into the bathroom any time I needed to but I wasn’t to lock the door. As far as I could tell there wasn’t a key in the lock anyway but maybe there’s some electronic thing.

When he told me to get into bed, I did as I had to for Dad; I laid down with my legs wide apart ready for fucking but he closed them up and pushed me to one side and climbed in. We lay side-by-side, our bodies touching but he made no attempt to play with me and didn’t ask me to suck him off. Am I too ugly for him? His prick stood half hard before we left the bathroom but he didn’t wish to go further. Why? I guessed he hated me but I soon dropped off to sleep, exhausted from the days happenings and from all the food I’d consumed.

Clive. - Shopping

I didn’t sleep well. My mind churned over the problems with the XJV and combined them with what I had to do with Ell. Waking early in the morning, I eventually decided to get up at six o’clock and spend a couple of hours working on Mandy before breakfast. Getting out of bed woke Ell but I told her lie there until seven and then wash herself and make the bed, (at least that was a chore I didn’t have to do) and to come into the workshop at 7:50 to remind me of the time. She saw my early morning hard-on but I wanted to get on with the injectors and didn’t even wank myself in the bathroom.

Fortunately the setting of the second set of injectors went without a hitch and when she peeped around the door wearing her tatty but now clean, clothes from yesterday, I smiled and said, “Morning, you slept well. I’ll wash my hands and then we can get breakfast. Normally it’s a do-it-yourself thing with cereals, toast and coffee or tea.” To my surprise she responded cheerfully, “Good morning Sir.” At least that was a start. I told her to call me Clive.

Rachel arrived in the kitchen at the same time as we did but mother had already left to set up some bazaar or other to raise funds for her pet project. Ell even responded with a smile to Rachel’s greeting but didn’t say much at breakfast. “I’ve decided to amuse myself this morning,” Rachel informed us, “By coming shopping with you but only in an advisory capacity. You’ll do the choosing and paying for the items.”

“You could take her shopping on your own. Two women together having fun retail therapy,” I suggested hopefully.

“No way brother dear. She’s yours and it’s up to you to choose the style and colour that you want her to wear.” I pulled a face at her and she laughed. Ell looked perplexed and didn’t understand our relationship at all.

Actually she did much more than advise. She took us to a back street shop that specialised in slave gear, although they didn’t call it that, but they stocked a large range of styles and sizes, mainly in plain colours and hard-wearing materials. “Get a size that fits her loosely at the moment, Clive, she may grow a little taller but not much, but she should fill out with all the food you want to put on her plate!” Rachel grinned at me, “We might need to get XXXL size by then.”

I chose a deep blue that Ell seemed to like it too although, in the presence of the store-owner, she didn’t say much. I couldn’t decide between having her wear a skirt or a pair of trousers until the owner pointed out, “A P-A often needs correction or has to provide personal sexual service for her owner and in these cases it is quicker and easier to lift a skirt to do the necessary. Trousers are better for manual workers.” Ell looked a little downcast when I chose the skirts but I kept them to a moderately long length. I also bought her a pair of decent shoes but her old ones would do for a while now they’d been washed.

“She’ll need a pair of knickers as well,” Rachel advised. I knew most slave girls didn’t wear them and looked in askance at her. Again she grinned, “Unlike men, we women have to suffer periods for a few days each month and she needs them during that time and you’ll also have to buy her sanitary towels, they’re in the women’s hygiene section of the super market.”

“I come up and steal yours!”

While the cashier pulled up my credit account and parcelled my purchases, I heard Rachel whispering to Ell and from the few words I caught, believed she tried to find out when Ell last had her period. I grumbled to Rachel about the cost of keeping a P-A these days and remarked that her outfits cost more than my race fee including the insurance, until I saw a tear form in Ell’s eye and realised that she didn’t understand that I joked.

Rachel added to her sadness by saying, “That’s only the start of what you’ll need,” but then she too saw Ell’s consternation and added, “But you can afford her and she will be worth it in the long run and think yourself lucky that I’m not the one you are buying for. One of my dresses costs ten times as much as all you’ve bought this morning.” She put her arm around Ell and remarked, “It’s the first time he’s had to look after a live girl and not some inanimate piece of machinery but he’ll get used to it and I’ll make sure he knows what to do.”

“You go and play with Mandy while I get Ell dressed and then we can prepare some lunch. Cook doesn’t do lunches on a Saturday and mother’s out. We’ll call you when lunch is ready.” I saw them disappear into my bedroom and a little later heard them head for the lift.

Elise. - New clothes

I didn’t know if I were in heaven or hell. Heaven because of the food, the soft bed, the water and toilet facilities, hell because I had no idea if it would last and I knew he resented my being there, mainly because it wasn’t his own idea but one of his mother’s ‘do-gooder’ charity things. He didn’t even want to fuck me. Admittedly, compared with Rachel’s, my body looked pretty gruesome but she seemed to think it would improve with time. Dad fucked me often enough after mum got a proper job and left us so I was prepared for that. Clive had a full erection when he got up but didn’t even stop for a blowjob and I’m not sure if this car thing is an excuse to keep him out of my way or if he is telling the truth.

So far he’d been kind to me and not threatened any punishment and allowed me to stay in bed when he got up and the chores he’s given me have been simple enough and not taxed my ability or strength, but I wonder how long this will last. Will he become demanding and brutal when he becomes used to being in charge and able to do more or less what he likes with me? I’m worried over the future.

We met up with Rachel at breakfast. Breakfast? That’s a first for many years. Again she restricted the amount I had but it was more than adequate for my small stomach and she seemed genuinely concerned for my well-being. They continued to taunt each other but I began to believe they were actually good friends and Rachel pleased me (and Clive too it seemed) by offering to accompany us and to advise him on what to buy.

We went by hover taxi to the town centre even though the distance was only about a mile and Rachel took us to a shop specialising in clothing for ‘owned workers’. Another first for me, my first brand new clothes, even if they were slaves clothes. Being a man, Clive chose the colour he liked first, a nice shade of blue, but I liked the colour too, not that it mattered, and then we looked to find a suitable size and style. Rachel dissuaded him from buying the cheapest, “Because you’ll have to come back again and buy more when they fall apart after the first wash,” she told him when he queried it. “You don’t buy the cheapest parts for your car because you know they won’t perform well, the same thing applies to the clothes you buy for your P-A,” she added.

“Okay, I get the picture, you want me destitute as well!” The remark worried me but I tried not to show it and then I saw his grin.

The next decision on whether I should have a skirt or trousers brought the owner of the shop to our side. He explained that for me a skirt would be most suitable because my bottom and openings would be more readily available for punishment and sex. Trousers were better for manual workers because of the need to keep dust and dirt from those parts. Again I worried when Clive chose the skirt. Did that mean he would be punishing me? I suppose I had to expect that if I displeased him and I fully expected that he’d fuck me although I hoped it wouldn’t be in public.

We found a nice comfortable pair of lightweight shoes with good soles that matched the tunic and skirt and then Rachel reminded him I would need a pair of knickers and explained why. With Dad, I wore a piece of cloth like a baby’s nappy so having knickers would be another new experience. While Clive paid for the goods and had them parcelled up, Rachel asked about my periods. “How long do they last? Do you have painful cramps? Is the bleeding heavy?” she asked like a concerned mother. Clive grumbled at the cost of my clothes and compared them to the cost of his racing and I wondered if that was a prelude to him disposing of me but cheered up when Rachel suggested that I would be worth it in the longer term. I didn’t see how that could be, as I had no skills to offer and only a limited education. I proudly carried the parcel to the taxi and home.

While Clive went to work on his beloved car, Rachel took me into our room and before she dressed me in my new clothes, again examined my body. “I’m in less pain that yesterday,” I told her and she said the welts on my back were healing nicely and went into the bathroom and found the tube of cream Clive used last night and smeared some on them. I quietly asked if Clive was likely to sell me because I cost so much but she just laughed, “That car of his costs more than you will if you’re here for ten years. The insurance for the race alone is in the ten thousand credits range. He was only kidding about your cost,” she reassured me, “And I think he is more annoyed at Mother than you.

In my new clothes I felt like a queen when we went to the kitchen to make lunch. Gradually I lost my reluctance to talk with her but didn’t say anything about my previous life or about Dad. Again she reassured me about Clive. “Unless you do something to really annoy him or damage his precious car and stuff he has in his workshop, I doubt he’ll ever hurt you. As far as I know, he’s never had a girl before so this is probably as strange to him as it is to you and he needs to feel his way. Ignore all the grumbling about the costs, it’s peanuts to him but he likes to make a fuss in front of me because he knows I’ll get back and tease him with another argument. It’s all friendly even though it might not sound like it at times. Do your best to please him and you’ll get along fine even if it takes a week or two. Can you find your way back to the workshop to tell him lunch is ready?”

Clive. - My helper

“Are you going to take her to college with you on Monday?” my sister questioned at lunch, “Like you, I’m at college for another week so can’t look after her. At least it’s my last week at college before I look for a job.”

I knew many students brought their P-A’s with them to carry their equipment and books needed for the lessons. Most were male P-A’s, wanting to learn engineering but not having enough money to pay for the courses. Some were not official ‘slaves’ but friends or lovers wanting to gain extra knowledge without the wherewithal to pay for it and during the lectures they sat on a bench at the back and listened to what went on but were not part of the class and weren’t set projects or had any work marked but it gave them as certain amount of experience for when they applied for a job. The tutors more or less tolerated them provided they didn’t cause a disturbance and if they did, the tutor summarily ordered their owner to punish them. Only two other girl P-A’s regularly attended and they sat with the others and read or just dozed off. “I suppose I’ll have to, I mustn’t leave her here alone for long. I doubt mother will volunteer to take her and it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for her to return to the Shanty Town and meet her father again. That could spell trouble. Maybe Cook could use some help.”

“I doubt it, you know she doesn’t even like us in here when she’s working.”

Ell quietly asked, “What would you like me to do for you this afternoon?”

I’d forgotten the need to keep her occupied and quickly thought and replied, “Help Rachel clear up in here and then get out of your new clothes and put your old shoes on and come into the workshop.” Both girls looked perplexed and I paused longer than normal before going on, “I’ll find you an overall and you can clear and tidy a corner that should have been done ages ago. I hope you are not afraid of spiders!” With no reaction from her, I assumed they weren’t a problem.

Ten minutes later she arrived in the workshop wearing only her shoes and I thought I could already see slight changes in her body but it may have been my imagination. Certainly the welts on her bum and thighs were not as angry looking. My prick stiffened but I wanted to get on so thrust her out of my mind. I found her a small pair of overalls from the stock I kept for when I had helpers, and told her what needed doing and impressed on her not to disturb me for any reason. “If you don’t know what to do or where anything belongs, put it to one side and wait till I finish tuning the last injector. At three o’clock go to the kitchen and make tea for us both and bring it in here. Rachel will probably have gone out.”

Only once did I glare at her for inadvertently dropping a steel pipe, making a loud crash when it hit the composition floor. “Sorry,” she whispered an apology and cringed away from me before she went back to work.

She took longer than I expected to make tea and came back with a couple of cakes as well. I’d forgotten to tell her to use my kitchen and she’d chatted to Cook in the main one. We almost had a conversation during the tea break, mainly about the cleaning she was doing but she refused to reveal anything of her home life. A least she’d started to speak to me and later at the dinner table, she talked at some length with Rachel and what they’d done during the afternoon and, surprisingly, spoke to Cook when she served our meal. Towards mother and I, she showed more reserve but I detected a thawing in her attitude and she’d begun to look us in the face and answered us with words instead of nodding her head.

I left her in our lounge watching the comms broadcasts while I went back to work until I got to a point where I needed someone inside the car to put the nuts on bolts while I held the air intake component in place on the outside. Normally in such a situation I’d comm one of the other engineering students for help but on a Saturday evening, I doubted if any of them would be available. Of course, I’d plenty of other things I could get on with but I really wanted to get the intakes in place. “Maybe it’s something Ell can do,” I thought. She’s a slave so I could order her to do it, but in the present state of our relationship, it might be better to ask her. I did and, willingly it seemed to me, she agreed and asked if she needed to wear overalls and when I suggested that would be best, she unashamedly stripped off in front of me and put her old shoes on.

At first she appeared overawed by having to get inside the car and I had to explain twice what I needed her to do but she grasped it in the end and put the nuts on, hand tight, so I only had to finally tighten them with a torque wrench. The job took fifteen minutes but she stayed and watched me assemble the air intake for the other side and didn’t hesitate to climb inside and fasten the nuts when I had it ready. We didn’t talk much except when I explained what I needed her to do but the rapport between us improved.

At nine o’clock, I decided to finish and went into our kitchen and showed her how to make the malt drink I liked and made her one too and fed her a nut bar when I remembered the need to feed her little and often. She looked exhausted by then so we showered and turned in. I actually felt quite pleased at the way the day had gone despite losing a morning’s work.

Showering with Ell gave me an erection, which she gently rubbed as she washed me and when I washed her cunt area, she deliberately rubbed herself on my hand. Her action made me wonder if she really wanted me to fuck her or whether she thought she was duty bound to do it. Whilst under the dryer, I pondered, “Will she spread her legs for me like she did last night? From the few words she uttered then, I gathered that her father made her do that. Is she really up to it? Probably if I’m careful after all, she laid on the aluminium floor of the car without wincing, so she should be okay on a soft bed even with me on top of her. Certainly she’s well removed from Miss Universe but I bet she’s far more experienced than me. I’ve not even fucked one girl so perhaps I’ll let her take the lead. No, that won’t do, she expects me to be the master and her, the slave that has to comply with my instructions. I’ll just see what happens.”

Elise. - Sex at bedtime

Over lunch they talked about taking me to college on Monday. I certainly wasn’t keen on the idea but the decision wasn’t one that involved me. I thought a Shanty Town slave would be very out of place amongst the intellectual and mainly wealthy students but with only a week left before the end of the term, I didn’t expect there would be much work done.

We’d almost finished lunch when he issued my orders for the afternoon; I had to go to the workshop to do some clearing up. Clive told me to take my new clothes off and he’d find me an overall and asked if spiders frightened me. Living in ramshackle huts, spiders were a way of life and I rarely worried about them until their webs became a nuisance, so I shook my head.

Rachel helped clear up the remains of the lunch and I fully expect that will be my job later when I’ve learned where things belong. She likes to talk to me and really wants to know what went on in Shanty Town but I kept quiet about that and she didn’t pressurise me into telling. I walked into the workshop wearing only my old shoes and deliberately flaunted my body in front of him but he appeared more interested in the way the welts were healing than having sex. His prick stiffened inside his trousers but he ignored it and gave me instructions and stressed not to disturb him.

As quietly as I could, I moved the boards and lengths of metal standing in the corner and started to sweep. All went well until I inadvertently knocked a length of pipe and this fell to the hard floor making a loud noise. Fully expecting to feel his wrath, I cowered down and whispered, “Sorry,” but he only glared at me and after a short while I carried on, relieved at not getting a beating.

Cook worked in the kitchen when I went to make tea and she pointed out that I should have made it in the downstairs kitchen but told me to go ahead and we chatted amiably and I learned that she might have become a slave if she had not obtained the paid job with the Forsythias. It didn’t pay very well but food and accommodation were included so she wasn’t too badly off. She even found a couple of cakes for me to take with the tea.

My hesitancy in talking to Clive eased as I became more familiar with him, and others in his family for that matter, and we made a desultory conversation during our tea break and at dinner, I spoke at some length with Rachel and learned that she and some friends had watched a cricket match, more to see what men were there, than for the game itself. I wondered why an attractive girl like her didn’t have a regular boyfriend but I didn’t dare ask.

At home there were times when I wished for a little privacy and for some time alone but when Clive left me in the lounge to watch the commscasts, I felt more alone than I wished and a bit rejected by him. To my surprise he came in less than an hour later and asked me if I would mind helping him. Of course I was willing and asked if I should wear overalls. When he confirmed this I undressed and noticed him starting to get hard after studying my nakedness and wondered how long it would be before he fucked me.

He made me lie inside his beautiful car, well it was only the shell with no engine or anything else inside, and put on the nuts to fasten the air intake thingy while he held it in position. The hard metal floor pressed on a couple of my welts but I tried not to show I was in any pain. He seemed satisfied with what I did and I waited and watched while he got a second one ready and I did the same thing when he held that in place.

We finished soon after, made a drink and had another snack before showering. And what a shower it was! He washed my back, being careful not to disturb the welts, and then started on my tits. They’re not big but I began to get aroused and seeing his prick starting to rise, I rubbed it to full hardness, half expecting him to fuck me in the shower. He didn’t, but he did rub my slit and got me wet and worked up. We continued to play and he kissed me a few times under the dryer. This continued in bed until I almost couldn’t stand it anymore and was about to tell him to fuck me, when he opened my legs and said apologetically, “I haven’t done this before so you’ll have to tell me if I’m not doing it right.” He certainly did it right and I climaxed almost from the start, probably because of all the foreplay. Dad never did that and most often, it was a painful fuck. We kissed some more after he’d sent his sperm into me and cuddled until we drifted off the sleep.

Clive. - Ell’s subdued mood

In the morning, I began to wonder if I were her slave rather than the other way round. I woke early and tried to get out of bed but she grabbed my hard prick and pulled me back and virtually forced me to fuck her. Admittedly I enjoyed it too. “I’ll help you make up the time later,” she laughed and I wondered what jobs I could give her to do until I remembered all the pipe-work I intended to clean and polish, if I had time.

Her face beamed when she came into the workshop to tell me it was time for breakfast. I told her to make the toast and I’d be up in a few minutes. She left humming a tune and I thought, “If that’s what fucking does, I’d better do it more often.”

Her mood had completely changed ten minutes later when I made it to breakfast. Mother stood and left when I entered and Ell was near to tears but wouldn’t say what happened. She brightened up later in the day but wasn’t as cheerful as before breakfast.

Unusually, Rachel came into the workshop after a rather subdued lunch. “Can you spare Ell for an hour,” and then she burst into laughing when she saw Ell with black smudges on her face and black hands from the polishing, “I was going to ask if she could come with me to get a couple of things I need and I thought she might need some things for her use but maybe she ought to have a wash and a change of clothes before we go out.” I agreed because the pipes she’d polished wouldn’t be wanted for another day or two. I also rightly suspected there was more to the shopping than Rachel said.

They arrived back a little before dinner, Ell looking nice in Rachel’s old dress and carrying a carrier bag with things Rachel had bought for her. She’d even had her hair done in a simple but attractive style. Rachel carried several carrier bags but didn’t reveal their contents.

“What took you so long? I thought you only wanted her for a hour?” I questioned, looking more at Rachel than Ell.

“Rachel bought me pads which I’ll need shortly, and a handbag with things a girl needs if she had to go out, then she took me to the hairdresser and they cut and styled my hair and then we stopped at a café and had strawberry ice cream and then we went to a boutique for her to get some things.” She said it in one long excited sentence. Mother frowned at her but kept quiet. Ell’s exuberance faded.

Ell’s rather subdued mood continued through the evening. We worked on the car, and when she finished polishing she stood around and held parts for me while I fastened them in place. Busy work to keep her occupied and in most cases I could have done the work by myself. We’d just cleaned ourselves up and Ell stood in the kitchen making our drinks when Rachel came into our lounge. “Would you like a hot drink?” I asked.

“Only if you’ve nothing stronger.” She knew I wouldn’t have any because alcohol quickly went to my head and messed up my thinking and judgement. She accepted a mug of malt drink and sat with us and had a serious look on her face. I half guessed why she was here.

“Ell, this afternoon you half told me about what happened at breakfast time with Mother and I think it only right and fair that Clive should know too. In fact we should know the whole story, especially as he is your owner. Spill the beans girl, tell us the whole truth and perhaps we can sort something out. We know it upset you and your being depressed has dispirited my brother. In the two days you’ve been here, I think you know that you’ve become more than a slave, you’ve become part of this family and as such we’re your friends. Trust us and we’ll help you if we can.”

Elise. - Rebuked

Clive woke me when he tried to get out of bed and seeing his erection I grabbed it and pulled him back and we made love again, yes it was ‘making love’ rather than a plain fuck. I lay for a little longer while he went into the workshop and I got up in a really happy mood. As on the previous day I went to tell him it was time for breakfast and he sent me ahead to make the toast and tea. I skipped off, humming a tune and still hummed when I entered the kitchen to be confronted by Cerise.

“It sounds like you had a good time last night, I presume you had sex?” I nodded and smiled. “Well remember you are a slave and it is part of a slave’s job to please and give herself to her owner. That’s one of the reasons I bought you. Don’t think of it as love, certainly not after only two days and don’t think of ever marrying him. We’ll find him a girl far more suitable for his status than a Shanty Town slave. You’re here to do his bidding and if that means opening your legs, so be it. You’re a hole for him to use to slake his lust, nothing more.” She expounded on that theme without my being able to get more than a few words in, until Clive came and she left.

I had wet eyes but didn’t actually cry, even when Clive asked what happened, I shook my head and he desisted from prying but I’m sure he knew that his mother was the cause of my unhappiness.

I had a few household chores to do and then asked if I could help in the workshop. He set me to polishing the chrome tubes that connected bits inside the car. I had no idea what they were for but they were all odd shapes and only a very few were straight. I quite enjoyed removing the grease and grime and prided myself on restoring them to a beautiful shine.

Rachel came, laughed at my besmirched face, and asked if I could go shopping with her. I soon realised that she wanted to cheer me up and also to find out what happened earlier. Cerise had mentioned to her that I’d thoughts on marrying Clive and that she’d dispelled that notion but didn’t give any details. Being perceptive of my mood at lunch, Rachel guessed I’d been rebuked harshly and wished to find out more. After some fun shopping and a visit to a hairdresser where for the first time I had my hair properly cut and styled, but in a simple way that suited me, we sat in a quiet café for an ice cream. There after much probing I told her the outline of what happened including our love making the previous night and that morning. Of course I didn’t tell her everything we did but enough to let her know how much we enjoyed each other. Some of the depression lifted afterwards and we laughed more when she went to a boutique to get a new and very expensive dress.

Cerise didn’t say much at dinner when I told Clive what we’d done that afternoon and I had the feeling she didn’t approve of her daughter’s handling of me.

I finished the polishing and stood around helping him a little because I didn’t want to sit in the lounge alone. The slight tension barrier that existed between us yesterday, returned and, we talked, but it wasn’t with the smiles and good humour we’d had before breakfast.

When Rachel came to our lounge I prayed she wouldn’t say anything about this morning and wished I hadn’t told her in the afternoon. No such luck but I think it worked out for the best. She came right to the point and made me tell them both what Cerise said this morning. Tears ran down my face at the end but Clive came and put his arm around me and in front of Rachel, gave me a proper kiss.

“Ell,” he said, “After knowing each other for only two days, it’s far to early to talk or think about love, but I will say this, I like you a lot more than any of the girls mother arranged for me to meet. At least you don’t mind getting your hands dirty!”

“And her face,” Rachel joked defusing the tension and we all laughed. We spent another ten minutes together, joking and chatting, mainly about my being at the hairdressers and sitting alongside a wealthy elderly woman who made a fuss at whatever the girl did to her hair, until we finished our drink and Rachel left.

We showered and fervently made love that night and I treated him to a blowjob in the morning.

Monday came and I wasn’t looking forward to attending college with him but, like he said, it was no big deal. Clive gave me a notebook and pen when I couldn’t work the comms pad, and a book he scrounged from Rachel for me to read but I sat with the others on a seat at the back and mainly listened uncomprehendingly to the two lectures, maths and science, that morning. I gathered they went over mistakes made in previous tests they’d had. Fortunately, Clive only had lectures in the morning.

Another boy he introduced as Peter Graffham, came home with us and shared our lunch. “Peter’s going to help get the engine back in the car, Ell. I know you would help, but it will be easier and quicker with Peter’s muscle power and knowledge of where the parts go.”

I could see what he meant by muscle power. The lad’s tall, well-built body contrasted with Clive’s slim frame but I soon realised he knew about hover cars too and they quickly had the engine in and were connecting up some of the pipes I’d polished. “Don’t get finger marks on them,” I chided but Peter joked, “If I do, I’ll rub you along them to clean them off.”

He stayed for dinner and the conversation escalated to a lively banter between him, Clive and Rachel.

The pattern repeated itself for the next two days except on Tuesday we spent whole day at college and Wednesday he had a lecture early morning and one later in the afternoon. Peter took the same courses and had the same lectures but came home with us during all his free time. They worked feverishly on the car and my main job was providing tea and refreshments.

On Wednesday they worked until after midnight to get it finished ready for trials the next day. Clive told me to go to bed but I stayed with them even when he threatened to smack my bum for being disobedient.

We were too tired to make love that night and had to get up early for his last lecture of the year. “Can I trust you to finish the polishing while I’m gone? I should be back about nine or half-past. Rachel’s not bothering to go to her college for her last day so theoretically she’ll be in charge of you but I doubt if she’ll come into the workshop or may not even be up by the time I get back. Pete and I will have a quick breakfast when we get in and then get the transporter to take us to the track.” Instead of lying in I got up as soon as he left and started on the silicone polishing of the outside like he’d showed me the previous night and actually finished before nine but continued going over and over it with the special polishing cloth until the paintwork and the icons gleamed. It pleased me greatly to be able to do that for him and when the pair came in, at least they praised my efforts, which made be very proud.

Two more cars were at the track with crews tuning up their engines and at intervals they would come over and have a few words with us and Peter took me to see their cars while Clive finished a few last minute adjustments. I compared the polish on Clive’s car with the others and decided ours had the best shine and one of the other drivers even asked if I would do his. Mid morning Clive donned his protective gear, and I heard the roar of the engine as it burst into life. Slowly the car lifted and seconds later it sped away at high speed. My heart stopped when I thought it would turn over as Clive banked it around a corner and then took off when it zoomed over a hump. Clive returned to us, discussed something with Peter and made a few adjustments and went off again. Peter took it out for a short run but didn’t go as fast as Clive; he enjoyed driving it but wasn’t into racing.

For a while we watched some of the others doing their trials but I couldn’t get any indication of who would be the fastest. “None of us are driving at full power, Ell, we keep that for the actual race not for when rivals are watching.”

Clive. - Claire

Ell helped more than I expected and after my initial misgivings at having to look after her, I found her eager to learn and help even with dirty jobs, and I enjoyed her in bed too. Peter accepted her, like me, more as a person than a slave and asked when he needed her help. Mother still had grave misgivings about her and I’m sure she regretted buying her for me, but, as the documentation is all in my name, she cannot do anything about it. No more has been said about being in love but at college, at the racetrack and at home, apart from mother, we’re accepted as being an item. I’d certainly be loath to lose her now.

The big day is approaching and I need to win the regional heat to get a place in the National event in another two weeks. I think I stand a good chance on Saturday before I come up against the ‘big boys’ two weeks later. The engine is running well but I’ve a few more adjustments to make to fine-tune the controls before Saturday.

I think the noise scares Ell a bit but she seems welded to her polishing cloth and every time a speck of dust or a finger mark appears, she’s there to polish it off. It’s a wonder she doesn’t polish the metal away.

We went to the track on Friday for final adjustments but came home before dinner to have a quiet evening and rest before the race. That was not to be. Mother invited Claire Decroix to dinner and expected me to take her out afterwards. I saw it as part of her plan to wean me away from Ell and my pleas that I needed to rest before the big race went unheeded but I resolutely refused to take her to a nightclub. In the end she reluctantly settled for a walk in the park that included a cuddling session on a seat screened by a few bushes. Physically she has everything that Ell hasn’t; big tits, which she puts on display, grand hairstyle, make-up and fine clothes but this is negated by her wheedling, demanding nature. However, she soon realised I didn’t kiss her with any great enthusiasm but I made the excuse that my mind was on the race when in reality, I thought of Ell.

She didn’t even quibble when I decided to return home soon after nine and again, used the race as an excuse.

The incident understandably upset Ell and from the redness around her eyes, I knew she’s been crying. She turned her back on me in bed. “What the hell,” I thought, “She’s only a slave. I own her, not the other way round and I can go with any girl I please. I don’t like Claire all that much and I’m sure she only came here at mother’s invitation and to see what she could get out of me. Maybe later on I’ll meet a girl I really like, one that’s not a slave.” But inwardly I knew the girl I wanted was Ell.

Elise. - A rival

Another nice, if noisy day at the racetrack. More competitors were there not all racing in the same class as Clive but they all mixed in and with much friendly joking, some of it directed at me and my polishing cloth. We became temporary friends even if I didn’t learn their names.

A group of us shared a picnic lunch together and I wasn’t the only girl there although only one of the others wore overalls but her boyfriend drove a car in a different class so we weren’t rivals and she obviously knew more about engines and the cars than I ever would.

We planned a quiet evening at home but had a shock when Cerise introduced a posh looking girl of Clive’s age, at dinner. I couldn’t compete with her on looks or in tit size, nor with the money she spent on clothing and make-up so I shrank back into my shell. I knew Cerise planned this to stop me having thoughts that Clive and I would be together for good, and to make me understand my role in life was to give her son satisfaction, nothing more.

Throughout the meal this bitch, Claire, sat close to him and I’d been relegated to sitting with Pete. She unashamedly flirted with Clive and several times bent over so he had a good view down her cleavage. Cerise smiled and showed her approval. Rachel looked at me several times and gave a little shake of her head as if to warn me not to make a scene and Pete saw through the bitch’s attempts at seduction and put his hand on my thigh to distract me and tried to interest me in the various types of car we’d see on the track in the morning. He knows that Clive is more than an owner to me. Between them they prevented an outburst but afterwards I lay on our bed and sobbed.

He returned about 9:30 and made us a drink, normally my job, and I sat drinking it without looking at him. Even when he took me to the shower, I washed him clinically without any of our customary play and I guess he responded by doing the same to me. Had he demanded it, I would have allowed him to fuck me but he didn’t and I turned my back to him and tried to sleep. With my mind in turmoil, sleep wouldn’t come.

Clive. - The Race

I pulled Ell to me in the morning and gave her a cuddle to which she responded to a limited extent but not enough to show she’d forgiven me. Forgiven me? Heck, I was supposed to be her master and in any case, I only went out with Claire because of mother’s intervention in my life.

Saturday, the big day arrived and I found eleven cars in my class. Pete and Ell had a grandstand seat in the participants’ enclosure to watch us do ten laps of four kilometres, about twenty-five miles. Claire didn’t show up, I didn’t expect her to. The track, built on the site of an old airfield, used some of the original runways with added corners and artificial hills and obstacles. We start as a pack in line abreast with only a metre between us and the tactic for everyone, is to get ahead of the pack in the first few yards and try to keep ahead. I hoped the trouble I took with the injector setting would give me the edge and that little bit of extra power right from the starter’s go. So it proved. Before we arrived at the first chicane I led by over a metre and on the straight of the old runway, at speeds of well over 160 km hour, I gradually pulled ahead and even when I lost a little ground on one of the turns, no one caught me.

Triumphantly I took the chequered flag when I crossed the finishing line.

Elise. - Disaster

I can’t say I enjoyed the race because I was too scared and worried over Clive’s safety, at least for the first few laps. At times the car flew through the air and on the corners, tilted almost vertically, but Clive knew how to handle it and I jumped up and down and cheered when he finished ahead of all the others. Pete and I were alongside him, as his crew, when he received the cup and in his little thank-you speech, Clive joked that it wasn’t the engine power that put him ahead but all the polishing I’d done on the outside. It didn’t look like it when I saw the filthy state of the car at the end of the race. I know he also received a substantial number of credits for winning.

Clive spent more time with me over the next two weeks, college had finished for the year, the car only needed tinkering with but he still spent a good deal of time on it and also on other engineering projects that had been put aside in the rush to get the car finished. We frequently went to the firm his grandfather started and which Clive would own in a few years. I could admire some of the things they made but was completely lost when they discussed design problems. Clive inherited his grandfather’s flair for innovation and even the older members of the design team treated him with a lot of respect.

Our relationship continued to grow and we enjoyed sex most nights and often in the morning too. My period of the month time came and during the three days I introduced him to blowjobs and when I stopped bleeding, to having oral sex with me. Claire didn’t reappear on the scene until the following Friday when Cerise again invited her for dinner and gave them tickets for a concert. Cerise continued to disapprove of the way her son treated me like a girlfriend rather than a slave even to the extent of putting rather more credits in my account than my P-A wages so if I wanted I could buy items for myself. Apart from Claire, life was good, and very much better than in Shanty Town. I hadn’t been hit once since my arrival.

They returned quite late from the concert and Claire immediately ordered, “Get out of the bed slave and sleep on the couch or anywhere out of the way.”

“She’s not your slave Claire, and her name is Ell. Please use it,” Clive rebuked her, and turning to me gave a shrug, “Sorry Ell…” I heard them fucking and cried loudly, not caring that they heard me. I went to breakfast alone and even refused to talk to Rachel.

For the rest of the week, we had a master and slave relationship. I did whatever he told me, no more, no less, except that I continued to polish Mandy until she glowed. That, at least, was something I could do better than the bitch. This Friday too, Cerise invited Claire but for once, Clive obstinately refused to go out with her, citing preparations for the big, big race as an excuse. “I’ll see you afterwards then,” she hissed and tossed he head back. Actually he mainly spent the time on his comms unit supposedly looking at the profiles of his competitors.

The big race day came and Pete and I were dressed in overalls decorated with Clive’s logo to indicate we were officially his crew. Although the venue for the National championship changed each year, to our good fortune this time it was at our local track, the same as the last meeting. It gave our teams a slight advantage but drivers from other areas were allowed to go round the track on the previous day to familiarise themselves with the layout.

After we’d got the car on to the starting grid, I did a symbolic rub with a duster because other competitors had teased me about the shine. Pete and I retired to the grandstand and looking over to the public area I saw Rachel standing close to us, and waved. I knew she didn’t care for these races but perhaps she had a premonition about this one. Claire wasn’t with her and I couldn’t see her around but spotting anyone in that crowd was a near impossibility.

Clive got off to an excellent start but this time others were close behind him. He managed to keep the lead for four laps and then disaster struck. It wasn’t clear at the time what actually happened but the comms replays showed it clearly from several camera angles. I only knew that Clive was hurt but officials prevented me getting near and I had to watch it on the large comms screen. An arm snaked around me and Rachel whispered, “He’ll be okay, they’re well protected in all that gear,” but I could tell she didn’t believe her own words. Horrified we watched as they cut the car apart, a crane lifted the engine and we saw the medical team extract Clive and set him gently on a stretcher. One of the medics gave the thumbs up but when the camera focused on Clive, to our horror we saw, his boots and feet were crushed and unrecognisable.

“Come with me,” Rachel ordered and virtually dragged me away to the hover taxi stand. I protested loudly that I wanted to go to Clive but she slapped my face when I became hysterical and told me to shut up. “They won’t let us any where near him, we’d best get to the hospital and wait. They’ll probably bring him in by air ambulance so he may get there before we do.” She was right. They had him in the emergency theatre before we got there and we had to sit around and wait for the doctors to do what they could for him before finding the extent and seriousness of his injuries.

We relived the incident several times because they broadcast it repeatedly on the comms screen in the waiting room. It appeared that Clive took the corner around a flat-topped rock slightly wide and the following car tried to sneak inside but there wasn’t enough room and when Clive’s car levelled after banking for the turn, it flipped the nose of the second car and sent it flying over the top of the outcrop and it landed hard on top of Clive’s car before bouncing off and stopping a short distance away. The driver climbed out unhurt. Fortunately the prompt reactions of the rest of the drivers saved further tragedy and the marshals quickly stopped the race. Seconds later the rescue team and medics were on the scene with gigantic gear that cut the car apart in seconds. They reduced the pride and joy of Clive’s life to scrap metal before they could extract him.

Cerise arrived and irrationally blamed me for the accident but Rachel told her to stop that nonsense and pointed out that I was upset too. Hours later, the doctors told us they had amputated both of Clive’s feet but, apart from bruising on various parts of his body, he’s survived okay. He’d live but he’d be wheelchair bound for a while and then need artificial feet. We looked in on him but he wasn’t conscious and the doctor said that we would be better going home and Rachel promised to take me back in the morning.

She came to my room later that evening and we tried to comfort each other and eventually slept in my bed, cradled in each other’s arms.

Rachel commed him first thing in the morning and to our delight he answered but looked pale and groggy. He tried to joke that he wouldn’t be able to get on the soccer team now and we tried to laugh because as far as we knew he’d never played the game.

At breakfast Cerise said she’d commed the hospital and talked with the consultant who suggested Clive might be allowed home after about two weeks. “With the ultra sonic and laser treatments we use these days instead of drugs, healing is much faster and the side effects are minimal, he told me,” Cerise informed us, “He’ll need a lot of care then so perhaps you will come in useful after all,” she added, looking directly at me. She had her ‘work’ to do and would be at Shanty Town for the morning but would get to see her son sometime in the afternoon.

My collar and name-tag came in useful when security tried to keep us away; they’d been besieged by reporters and others wishing to get interviews. Peter stood nearby and had been refused entry but Rachel’s I.D. and my tag got us all in. We talked briefly with the nurse about his condition and she suggested we didn’t stay long and tire him. “Come back again later when the effect of his treatment has worn off and he’ll feel less groggy and you’ll get a better idea of how he actually is,” she said. In fact, I stayed and held his hand when the other two left and the nurse didn’t make a fuss about it.

Clive wasn’t in any pain, the gadgetry they hooked him to, saw to that, but he looked drawn and for most of the morning he dozed. The surgeon came at eleven but didn’t send me away when he examined Clive. “As his slave, I presume you will be looking after him when he leaves so you might as well see what you have to deal with.” He showed me the stumps covered with transparent dressings, where they cut his legs halfway between the ankle and knee. It all looked neat and tidy, almost like joints of meat in the supermarket. I forced myself not to cry. “We’re doing skin cultures now and in a few days we’ll have grown enough to cover the ends and properly seal them off but it will take a couple of months or more before the tissue has hardened enough and we can think about fitting prosthetics.”

“False feet,” Clive interjected when I looked puzzled. He went to sleep soon after but I only left his bedside to go to the toilet. Lunch came for him but I hadn’t brought my credits card or any tokens so I couldn’t buy anything from the cafeteria or the machines. Clive hadn’t any with him either but I said not to worry, I gone without food for a lot longer when I lived with Dad. He perked up after the meal and we discussed his future and my role in it.

He gave me the option to be free of him but I pleaded to stay and not be sent away and I doubted he wanted me to go and I certainly had no wish to return to Shanty Town. “You need me more than ever you did,” I pointed out, “I expect they’ll give you a hover chair to get around on but about the house or in college, it will be more convenient and less noisy if we use the old fashioned wheelchair and I provide the motive power,” language I’d picked up from him. I’d seen one or two hover chairs in use during my shopping trips. He agreed and we hugged and kissed until the nurse came in but she only smiled and said, “Sorry to disturb you but I have to check his vitals again,” and hooked him to a monitor. “Okay,” she grinned, “But don’t over excite him.”

Rachel commed about then as said she would be in to see him in about an hour and asked if he wanted anything, and he suggested some clothes for him instead of the hospital gown, and a sandwich for me.

Cerise came and practically ignored me even though Clive held my hand tightly. She didn’t stay long and Rachel came for a while and insisted that she would call again that evening and would take me home afterwards. Had they allowed it, I would have slept on the floor by his bed but the nurse backed up Rachel’s demand that I leave.

As far as I could tell, Claire never even enquired as to his health and Rachel said that her mother never mentioned her. I visited every day and Rachel gave me plastic credits to get a hover taxi home if she wasn’t there with me. I did have enough in my account but a few journeys would have exhausted it. “I’ll claim it back from your owner when he’s fit again,” she grinned and Clive smiled too.

Brian, ‘Bri’ Gammont, the driver of the second car, visited on the third day and sincerely offered his apologies for the accident. Bri wasn’t really a friend of Clive’s but they’d met at meetings and were friendly rivals and like Clive, didn’t know exactly what happened until he’d viewed the commcasts. They discussed the whys and wherefores of it and it came down to it being a freak accident. Clive’s levelling of his car at the split second that Bri had his car’s nose a little too far ahead and once Clive had sent him over the rock, he had no control until he landed and crushed Clive and his car. With the power still on, Bri’s car immediately lifted off and under control again, he steered it out of the way and shut down. There’d be an inquiry and he might be blamed, but he offered to give any help he could with Clive’s rehabilitation. They both knew he’d never race again.

Clive. - The aftermath

At the time, I had no idea how it happened and don’t remember very much until later that night when I came too in hospital. At first I didn’t know I’d lost my feet and wasn’t in any serious pain because they’d coupled one of the electronic impulse gadgets to my neck which blocked the pain to my brain. I remember Ell holding my hand and Rachel and Mother being there but I think the sensors kept putting me to sleep to get much needed rest.

Ell came every day and stayed until they forced her to go home and she asks the nurses to show her what she’ll need to do when I go home. Rachel comes frequently and both of them cheer me up but Mother depresses me especially as she tries to ignore Ell’s presence.

Bri Gammont came and we discussed how the accident occurred and he felt very guilty at causing my disability but it was largely a million to one chance that our cars were in that position at the critical time.

Pete’s been in a couple of times and the last time we discussed the problem I and Ell would have getting me in and out of bed and on to the toilet and to a lesser extent, into the shower. I won’t want to keep using a bedpan and a urine bottle when I get home. Here they have a portable hoist to get me out of bed and I’m sure we can come up with something for home use too. My engine hoist is a bit overkill for that purpose. Ell could only lift me a short distance in an emergency and, being engineers, Pete and I tossed ideas around for a track fastened to the ceiling and an electric hoist. I commed Ted Holdsworth, head of the design department at Forsythia Engineering, and asked if the firm had anything in stock that could be utilised and requested he assist Pete with materials and expertise if he could.

Ell came in one morning bubbling with excitement, and burst out, “When I went into our bedroom last night there were four boys there, Pete and three others I think I met at college. Mess everywhere and the bed dismantled and the mattress laid out on the lounge floor. Pete apologised and said he hoped that I would only need to sleep on it for one night. They’d fixed a girder right across the room and it goes into the wall at both ends, because they said the rafters wouldn’t take your weight. They’re coming back today to fix up the hoist and track. I fixed them tea and sandwiches but they didn’t leave until your mother came and complained of the noise. They said they hoped to get finished in the bedroom and probably the bathroom today. Pete said he’d explain to me how it all worked when they’ve finished but I expect you’ll know all about the stuff anyway. It looks like the hoist thing you put the engine in Mandy with.” Her mention of the car’s name filled me with sadness. All the months of work building, modifying and tuning until she looked beautiful and performed perfectly, reduced in seconds to heaps of scrap metal. At times I felt like that too but Ell had a knack of cheering me up.

After a week of lying in bed and being bored stiff, Ell asked if I could be put in a wheelchair and could she take me to the cafeteria and a lounge they had. All the electrodes connecting me to monitors had long since been taken off and only my lack of feet tied me to the bed. The doctor sounded dubious but with two of us persuading him, he gave in and Ell wheeled me around and even took me outside into the sunshine. It annoyed mother though, because when she arrived, I wasn’t there and the nurses had changed shift so the one on duty had to check on my whereabouts.

Finally the day for my release came and Rachel ordered a hover taxi that would take a wheelchair. Ell efficiently wheeled me into the house and I noticed Pete and the boys had made several other improvements to the place, ramps to take the chair over steps in the floor level and a platform to bring the chair to a working height for the bench. Cook laid on a little celebratory dinner for us and Pete and his helpers but I soon felt tired and Ell decided it was time for bed. I wondered how we would manage or if she would still want me, but I needn’t have worried.

Elise. - From P-A to nurse

I felt even less like a slave as I wheeled Clive into the house and manoeuvred him over the new ramps into our bedroom and showed him the work the boys had done. Bossily I insisted on showing him how I could use the hoist and hooked him up and deftly lifted him on to the bed. Pete and Rachel grinned and Pete knew my training with one of the college boys proved successful. I told Clive how to operate the hoist himself but insisted that, if I was around, I would do it for him. “Yes, nurse ma’am,” he laughed and the others joined in.

Cook made a nice dinner for us and the four boys were invited too and, although neither Clive nor I had wine, we all thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Cerise even joined in and thanked me for helping her son. I’m sure she had no wish for our relationship to become permanent but treated it as a temporary thing until Clive recovered and could find someone more suitable. I shall try not to let that happen. When I talked with the nurse at the hospital one morning while the doctor treated Clive, she told me it wasn’t an uncommon thing for owners to marry their slaves so I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

That night I lifted him on to the chair in the shower and for the first time for a fortnight, we showered together and played unreservedly with each other. The accident had not injured any other parts of his body so his prick rose to my ministrations and, from his sitting position, he kissed and tongued my mound. Minutes later I had him on top of the bed and we fucked with me doing the work from the top position. Clive thought he could have fucked me semi-normally with his knees anchored to the bed, but we enjoyed ourselves and said we could try his way another day.

Over the summer we became a familiar sight around town and in the design workshop of Forsythia Engineering. In one lab, they were testing the latest prototype robot artificial arms and hands that were almost human in the way they worked. “They’re controlled by tiny sensors in the upper arm that receive impulses from the brain, or at least that’s what we hope,” Ted Holdsworth explained, “At the moment it’s rather heavy and crude, but we hope to refine that later.”

“Why don’t you make a pair of feet?” I asked only to be told, “We’re thinking about it but there are problems to solve with the hands and then to relate them to the foot structure. It should be possible in the future but you have to remember the feet have to take the whole weight of the body whereas the hands don’t.” I hadn’t considered that, but then I’m not an engineer.

That fired Clive’s thought processes I took him to various hospital departments and prosthetic manufactures to ‘gather data and see what is already being done’ as Clive put it. He threw himself into the project with the same enthusiasm as he’d had for the hover car and I became involved not only as the ‘motive power’ for his chair but he filmed my legs walking and running. By the end of the summer vacation we had skeleton legs and feet in the workshop and then mock-ups in wood, plastic and metal, some not looking anything like a foot but Clive considered he was making progress although he admitted the final product was still a long way into the future.

Cerise made one more attempt to oust me as Clive’s partner. He’d been out of hospital about a month and, apart from his mobility, had recovered well. I wheeled him into the dining room as usual only to find a girl sitting in what normally would be my place. This one was less tarty than Claire and smiled nicely at Clive. My heart sank and I knew she would be a far greater threat to our relationship than the other girl but I could do nothing about it. “Clive, this is Karen from Kimbleton,” Cerise introduced, “I invited her to stay for a few days to get to know you and I have tickets for you to go to a show. They have wheelchair access at the theatre.”

I started to cry when I pushed Clive into the space alongside her. Rachel shrugged and Cook looked sad but Cerise smiled broadly. For her part, Karen looked surprised at my reaction and the look on Clive’s face, but she shook his hand a greeted him pleasantly. I’m sure she had no idea of the situation and was only a pawn in Cerise’s game. Clive answered her cordially but then backed his chair from the table. “Rachel, would you mind moving round one space,” he asked and, after a pause, went on, “So that I can sit alongside my P-A who I’ve promoted to nurse status and from there to girlfriend and lover. Did you hear that Mother? Ell is my girlfriend and lover, please stop interfering with our lives. I’m sorry Karen, there’s no future for us and I apologise for Mother’s manipulations but there’s only one girl in my life and she is alongside me now and will be for the foreseeable future.” I burst into tears when he pulled me to him and kissed me in front of the others.

The engineering work at college this year is more of a practical nature, which suited Clive. Of course, I had to sit through many boring lectures but made myself useful in the workshop areas by moving him as required and getting the tools he needed. I know he can and does push himself around, but it makes me feel useful and a part of his life and it looks like it will continue that way.

We fuck and make love most nights and he’s even bought me dresses so we occasionally go to a show or concert. In fact, I only wear my slave clothes to college and even then I’m treated as his carer rather than as his slave. Everyone, including the tutors, call me Ell and my life as Elise in Shanty Town in fast becoming a fading memory.

Finis