-Julia

I don’t know exactly how long its been since the crash, there was one more survivor but I couldn’t get to them. By the time I got my leg unstuck and broke the window she was being taken by people on some floating platform, I was later taken as well. It was a different one, I was so confused by it all.

The people who shouldn’t be alive on this planet spoke English but I still struggled understanding them, I didn’t understand a lot of the words. A lot of the stuff they used I didn’t know what it was. If I did it was old tech, I went through terrible stuff from the second I was taken on the platform. Stripped naked and treated like an animal, I had to try and learn about what everything was while being terrified.

After the ship or boat as it was called, made it some where I was taken into a primitive building. Some one important took interest in me and had me taken to a cell that was isolated from most the other slaves. The idea of a slave was so weird and messed up. Well I was one now and I was violated almost every day by this person for I forgot how long. Eventually I was sold to someone and treated the same way, I was overwhelmed having to learn about this new society I was stuck in.

I was a lieutenant in the 234512 security force, now I was a sex toy. Some girls learned to love it or just quietly obey like I did, I learned not to complain. Some girls wouldn't break and were sold off cheap, not me sadly. I broke and now couldn't disobey my master, I was to small and weak to fight back. I was only 4 and a half feet even though I was 19, I hated being so small and weak. I was so proud to be a lieutenant even if I was weak but now I lost that rank.

“Julia!!! Get over here now.” I heard from the other room, my second master lived in a small 2 room apartment. I walked over to the main room where the kitchen was and got punched in the gut, “You dropped a plate and broke it!!!!!!! And you thought putting it in the trash would hide it, you bitch!!”. My master was mad, I didn’t mean to drop it but I tripped while carrying it. My collar was pulled and I was lifted off the ground, I was struggling to breath as I tried to speak.

“m…..master I didn’t mean to, please stop” I managed to say. I was dropped on the ground and had my face smacked.

“I’m leaving for work, get in your crate. I replaced the pee pads.” he ordered me.

I didn’t get a bed or a room to sleep in, unless I was being fucked. I got a cage, to heavy for me to try to move when I was locked in. I fit in it but could not stand up or lie down, it was to short and to narrow.

He was a 31 year old bartender named Mack, he got by but wasn’t well off money wise. I thought about the other survivor and where they ended up, hopefully better than me. I wanted to meet them so bad since we were in the same military and both stranded here. But I had no idea if that would happen, all I could do was wait in my cage.

-Connor

I stood guard while the government accountant/tax collector sat at his desk. The government rented a small 2 room shop on the first floor of a building, here in Oil Port city. Luckily it wasn’t hot because the body Armour I wore was heavy, standard steel plates in a carrier.

The walls were painted white and the original blue tile was kept, the second room had a heavy metal door installed at its entrance. Luckily unlike this room it had no windows so It was perfect for storing all the nuras we collected. I was curious why tax collector guards always got G3s, a AK in 224 seemed like a better choice then 308. we were in a crowded city so intermediate seemed safer to bystanders than what was issued.

This collector was my favorite so far, compared to others I’ve worked with. Supposedly there were tax collectors that were not slaves, but I’ve never seen one. His slave collar looked out of place with his suit and tie, at least in this city. We talked and joked around whenever no one was paying there taxes, I joked that he looked scarier than me. I was only 5 feet tall, he was 6 and a half feet.

The other guard, younger than me and the collector joked that we were to old for this work. “Both of you turn 30 soon, and this is a dangerous job. Why send you out still, the offices would be safer.” he told us.

The accountant retorted, “since I’m an important and educated slave, combined with the fact the government has interest in keeping me alive since my value is more than several of your pay checks. I will probably still be alive when you die, slaves like me tend to outlive the average free person. So you taunt me now, when I’m 50 I will still be eating better food than you eat now”.

He wasn’t wrong, educated slaves that served the government and rich tended to live into there early 60s just like the rich. The other guard didn’t respond, the day went on and nothing exciting happened luckily.