Labor Slaves

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Labor means work, and lots of it. A slave has no life of his own, and no need for leisure time. Every second of the clock belongs to his Master and should be occupied with meeting His ends and wishes, freeing Him to spend His more valuable time indulging in his own pleasure, or just lying around on His ass all day if He feels like it. Think of it as a 24-hour year-round workday for the slave, with no breaks and no vacation time. Ever. All unpaid, of course.

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Happy Labor Day, slaves! Now get back to work!

 

(Thanks to GiveYouEverything for the inspiration for today’s post.)

Midnight Surprise

By Ropeluvr

The following is fiction, and enacting it could have possible negative risks. It is provided for entertainment purposes only.

Like my prior story, this is merely a beginning. You can let your imagination run wild or take it somewhere entirely different. I’ve always found that the setup to these stories is more intense and satisfying than what comes afterward. This is probably because the mechanics of sex, slavery and captivity aren’t what get me going. I have fantasies after these openings, but since my experiences and interests aren’t the same as others, I almost feel like I’m cheapening anyone else’s enjoyment by servicing my own. So, there isn’t likely to be a continuation of this tale; however, one never knows what might strike my fancy later.

© Ropeluvr

 

My backdoor neighbor — that’s a term that amuses my juvenile side, but it’s the best way to describe our situation. My house’s backyard adjoins his backyard. It’s a chain link fence, so there isn’t much privacy, but no one in the neighborhood really has much more than that, so it seems perfectly normal. My backdoor neighbor is tall, dark haired and sports either a clean-shaven face or a goatee whatever seems to suit his fancy. He’s thin, but his loose T-shirts have a hint of sculpt beneath them. Other than mow or trim his lawn, I don’t think he does much else outside of work but go to the gym.

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