i've been thinking about this from a different angle - how my life as a slavegirl might be transformed by present-day technology.
Some things, of course, are no different - i'm naked, or nearly so if my Controller wishes. I wear a collar and slave-bands on my wrists and ankles. But they're not iron or even steel, rather some super-strong alloy. Each has a retractable band of unbreakable alloy wound inside which can be drawn out and set by my Controller to the desired length - so I can walk and work, or to bondage me for Punishment, or for His pleasure. And they can be locked one to another with a simple click, but only unlocked by a Controller - a Controller can release the locks by remote control.
i've got traditional brand-marks - well, also my bar-code - on my body, my slave status across my collar-bone above my breasts, my bar-code on my lower abdomen, my number and slave-camp code on my thighs. They were burnt onto me with laser stencil, hurt like hell, nothing can ever erase them.
But they're not my main identifiers - nor are they the worst humiliation. Inside my genitals i have to endure a probe, it's there all the time, day and night. It contains a microchip that enables my Controllers to know exactly where i am, day and night. And it controls me with sharp, acutely painful little electric shocks - to wake me for work - a steady, continuous and increasing rhythm of shocks till i'm up and mobile - to start or stop - a single sharp shock - to run to the Parade Ground - rapidly repeated shocks, and so on. It's powered by batteries, i have to remember to plug the charger in each night, if the battery goes low it gives me a painful reminder and alerts the Controllers.
They still carry Whips, and enjoy using them on us, but it's more of a sport, even an art, whipping us girls. The main form of physical chastisement is a heat-seeking laser beam which a Controller can fire from a small, hand-held gun at a girl and the beam will wrap round her bare body like a whiplash, burning like a red-hot knife-blade - even a momentary flick is enough to throw me off my feet and leave me squealing for minutes. As well as our human Controllers, we're constantly watched indoors by cameras, outdoors by drones, and even these monitors can be made to fire a beam at a girl who is seen to need discipline.
Punishments for what the Controllers decide are serious faults are carried out as they were in the old days, on a scaffold in the Parade Ground where all the slaves must watch. The girl is attached by her wrist and ankle bonds to a frame, pieces of equipment are clipped to her nipples and vulva lips, she is injected with pain-enhancing and hormone-stimulating drugs - and the 'Auto-Torture' set in motion: these clips, along with the internal probe, monitor her heart-rate, breathing, blood pressure, metabolic rates etc. in great detail, transmitting information to a computer that controls with clinical precision how much pain to inflict - in two ways - she is sharply stretched by the bondage on her limbs, like on a Rack, and sharp, burning electrical currents are fired into her sensitive parts, constantly varying in location, intensity, and prolongation. So sophisticated is the technology, we're never allowed to lose consciousness, certainly not to be freed by death, the torment can continue for hours, even days ...
As slaves, we are of course merchandise that can be sold. slave-sales are conducted online, with purchasers getting to see as much as they want of us, they can even request intrusive medical examinations with the results transmitted direct, and the best sites offer guarantees and free returns if a slavegirl proves unsatisfactory on delivery. But there's still a good demand for traditional slave-markets where the customers can examine us hands-on.
Maybe Members would like to know more about the life of a 21st century slavegirl?
Please ask me anything you wish, this slavegirl will do her best to answer ...
