tygavin
Magistrate
Avery
The Dean
Since my project Prisoner of War is going to be complete next weekend and I am nearly done with my huge Marvel project after 62 chapters and half a million words, I thought I would give a taste of my next big series here.
Avery Davis knew what she was getting into when she signed up for college. Westridge was not a normal college.
For one she had to sign a four year contract. The contract stated that she like all other girls at the all-female institution would live on campus for the duration of their time here. They were not allowed to drop out or transfer. They followed the curriculum given to them.
If women passed the interview they were in with no tuition. The college was highly selective and competitive, Only five thousand students and only seventy percent would graduate.
Westridge had a unique process for weeding out under performing students.
They could be selected at any time for the staff dinners or certain special events to serve as the main course. The selected were always spit roasted, meaning there was a chance rather than graduating she could end up with a spit running from her pussy through her mouth, basted to perfection and turned from a promising young academic to a piece of meat.
Should she fail any class, even the electives that had nothing to do with her major, she would be executed. Failure to follow the exercise and diet program was also punishable by death. Executions happened every Saturday morning in the quad and could range from slow hangings, scourging to death or hung on a crucifix to die in the most brutal, humiliating and slow method possible. The method was always left to the dean of the student’s department.
The staff were also all females. Males were not allowed on campus. If a girl was caught bringing a male onto campus it was execution for the girl and possible prison time for the boy. If the staff was in the mood for cock they had to take it off campus. The girls were not given the option of going off campus. The campus was huge and they stayed there for four years until graduation.
As a result, the college put out the most beautiful, intelligent and focused graduates in the world who thrived under pressure. Though their education methods were extreme no one in the world could argue with the results.
The young women were not required to sexually service the staff. They could be killed and eaten but never raped or coerced. That was the theory of course but some were above the rules, especially the Dean of the college, Rachel Bennington.
Now a week before class started, six days before the Dean hosted a party for the staff celebrating the new session, Avery found herself walking to the Dean’s home, a large two story Victorian home in the middle of campus that served as both her residence and office. She had received the text thirty minutes ago to report at this time. It gave her barely enough time to shower and prepare herself. It was only now on the lonely walk to the looming building that she had time to think of what this visit could mean.
Out of five thousand students, somehow the Dean had decided she would make the perfect meal for the ones she had hoped would be her teachers.
Before she could knock on the door, a sharply dressed woman in a long back short, white shirt and black blazer opened the door.
“The Dean is waiting for you. Down that hall, last door to your right.”
No greeting, only instructions. She was already being looked at as meat. Would she enjoy a few days of freedom or be locked up in a cage. She had never seen a spit roast before, having been afraid to watch videos. She knew it happened all over the world, mostly volunteers. She had no idea why someone would volunteer. It was supposed to be erotic but erotic enough to give your life. Avery doubted it. Nothing was worth that.
Except she has wanted a degree badly enough to take the chance. Would they shave off all her hair or just cut it short and coat it with some fireproof substance. She would have to shave her pussy. What would that feel like? She had never been bare before.
She knocked gently on the door and was told to come in.
The Dean sat behind her desk, wearing a form fitting blur dress with a lounging neckline. She beckoned Lizzie closer then walked around her desk and leaned back onto it. Her eyes raked over Avery’s body and she realized this must be what a mouse feels like when staring at a snake about to eat it.
The Dean reached behind her and grabbed a file. Avery’s name was on it.
“Avery Davis, eighteen years old as of three months ago. Brilliant test scores, outstanding grades, 5’6” 123 pounds, 35-24-34, blue eyes, reddish blonde hair, not muscular but not too soft either. Your admittance evaluator reported you as the perfect spit roast.
“Did you come here to feed us, Miss Davis? You must have known your beauty and build would make you a prime candidate for a meal.”
Avery cleared her throat and tried to control her trembling.
“I did not believe I would stand out on a campus with so many beautiful women.”
The Dean laughed quietly and began walking around Avery. The woman placed a hand on her ass and squeezed her left cheek.
“You are one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen. I am sure you suspect why you are here. It is unlikely you will be attending a single class as I plan to select you for the staff dinner this coming weekend.”
Avery grew cold and dropped her head, fighting back tears. She knew the risks but facing the reality was different.
“I understand.” Avery whispered.
“There is a chance to change my mind though.”
Avery looked at her through red eyes. “Anything.” she assured her, ready to fall to her knees and give this woman a mind blowing orgasm if it meant she didn’t become an entrée.
“I wouldn’t say that too quickly. You are an orphan. Another reason you needed to come to this university. You wish to study literature. Perhaps you want to become a professor yourself one day. That is what you listed as your career goal. Voluntary slavery. Many teachers on campus have slaves. The law allows each citizen a slave, so long as the person agrees to it.”
Avery tried to swallow but her mouth was suddenly dry.
“A slave?”
“Yes. Become my slave. Sign your life over to me. You will be exempt from all executions unless I condemn you. I take care of my property. So long as you submit and follow my rules, you will live. Failure to submit or breaking of the rules will result in your death.”
“How long is the contract?” Avery asked.
The Dean smiled, knowing she had her. “A lifetime. I have had two slaves before. One graduated and asked for her freedom to pursue a career. I had her served as the main course at her graduation party. The second cheated on me. I had her whipped, raped and crucified in the quad. It took her three days to die. She was begging for death after the first hour.
“I have no plans to let you go, ever. When I die, you die. I plan to live a very long time. There are perks. You will be able to study as much as you wish. Your every need will be granted to you. You will live in luxury, your only concern pleasing me and secondly your education. You will be able to leave campus and travel so long as you are by my side. When you graduate I will allow you to work as my assistant or become a professor here and allow you to dress professionally during class.”
The Dean waited a moment.
“Take a moment. It is a very tough decision I am sure. Sign your life over to me or have a spit shoved through your body and placed over a fire this weekend and I eat your succulent cunt. I understand many girls get off on the spit before they die so you have that to look forward to. Perhaps you can see your dead parents on the other side.”
Avery kept her face composed, showing none of the emotions warring inside her. Anger, helplessness, fear, relief that she had a way out of being spitted, confusion and apprehension over what her life would be like. She had known or at least seen slaves in public. They wore collars, most were branded somewhere, they wore very little if any clothes. They were often led by leashes by their owners. They were never spoken to or allowed to speak. They were not seen as people.
She would go to class but likely be nude or close to nude. She would have no pride and not be seen as an equal by her classmates.
But she would be alive. She would have a chance to keep breathing.
She examined the Dean who was waiting patiently. Rachel Donovan was beautiful at least. Lizzie estimated she was in her early to mid-forties. She knew the Dean had risen in rank at a very young age. She had a reputation for being cold and aloof but she didn’t appear so in person.”
“What if you don’t like me when you get to know me?”
“I’m going to mold you into my perfect slave. I will make you the person I like. You are smart and no doubt strong willed. I like smart. I will break your will and make you rely on mine. You will learn to say what I want you to say, do what I want you to do and be who I want you to be. Slavery is not easy, Avery.
“You won’t be allowed to talk to others and they will understand not to talk to you. You will never touch another again unless I order you to. I will likely have you assisting in the execution of the condemned and the preparation of meat. You will be dressed as I wish you to dress. You will be isolated. No friends, no one to turn to except me. Your independence will be gone. Everything that makes you who you are will be stripped away until you are who I want you to be. I am a strict mistress. My punishments can be brutal and you will be punished at times. If you behave though, if you love me, dedicate your life to me, I can make you happy.”
The dean took a remote from her desk and a wall panel slid open. A gas fireplace lit up. She placed the contract on her desk.
“Sign or security can take you to the holding pins. I will understand whatever decision you make. Either way, Avery Davis is dead. Slavery will at least allow you to keep breathing.”
Avery didn’t laugh. She didn’t cry. She understood she had no choice. She had already signed her body over to the College. Now she would complete her degradation. She walked to the desk and read over the document. It was as the Dean described it.
She signed her life away. Avery Davis became the voluntary, legal slave of Rachel Donovan.
“You made the right choice. Take off your fake jewelry and throw your clothes in the fire. Your old life is gone. I will collar you, brand you and then you can accompany me to let your former roommate know she will be dinner this weekend. I am not going to allow your only lover on campus to live. You have tasted her. Do you think her pussy would be best with basil or lemon pepper?”
tbc