Many placed ads in the papers in the same columns as domestics. Stacy knew several who had served.
The difference between slavery service and domestic service was basic. Domestics need have a well-trained ability in housework, cooking, social amenities, child care and family orientation. Pun- ishments, although sometimes issued for the em- p1oyer's pleasure, mainly occurred as a result of
sloppy work, mistakes or other household errors.
Too, domestic work was a paid position, and a well- paying one at that. After all, if a young lady was expected to accept the discomforting feel of the whip, her salary should be commensurate with the obligation. Lastly, she could quit her position at any time.
Slavery was somewhat different. A girl could not quit until her term was up, and naturally there was no salary involved. It was, more or less, purely captivity. Obviously, slaves were not expected to be domestics. Their task was to provide pleasure and to be available for punishment delights. Sex- ual requirements were roughly the same for both domestics and slaves, although domestics did have a choice to refuse such obligations. Few did, how- ever, for it normally resulted in loss of position.
It was natural, then, that most young women preferred to go into domestic service over volun- tary slavery, for it was a well-paid profession.
Those who went into voluntary slavery in non- slave states were those who had no domestic train- ing and merely wished to derive the inherent bene- fits that a woman reaps through serving. A self- improvement program.
Domestics could begin at fifteen, slavery at twenty-one. In the slave states, domestic service did not preclude the required slavery term before marriage, and when of age, they must also accept their slavery term.
In a definite sense, a domestic was a much higher level girl than a slave, such as a secretary would be over a female truck driver. On the other hand, the proof of slavery was the ultimate compliment for a woman. Her esteem was great in the eyes of others, for she had accepted the ultimate submission that
a female can make. The permanent mark of slav- ery, seen by virtue of low-cut blouses and swim- suits, was a badge of honor and respect. A girl who had served in slavery did not cover her brands, she showed them with pride.
In Stacy's new state, Georgia, a six-month slav- ery term was required before marriage of all young ladies. Some waited until the year before their marriage, some got the requirement out of the way as soon as they were twenty-one. A young lady who desired to marry before twenty-one, as many did, had a choice. She could serve her term at the younger age immediately, or she could marry and serve when she reached twenty-one. It was a fair doctrine.
As Stacy grew in her years she became more and more proud of being a girl, especially as she learned about their unique talents in respect to domestic and slave service. Could boys accept the things that went with it? Hardly. Naturally the cane and the whip hurt. Who said it didn't? But females accepted the hurt beautifully. They had accepted it since Eve, and always would. Stacy remembered her first domestic position, and her first whipping.
Slightly trembling, bound over a chair, panties exposed. She would of course die. But twenty strokes of a crop later she arose from her punish- ment, looked about, and went on to other things.
Just like her domestic teacher, Miss Cummins, said a girl would do. Of course it hurt quite a bit during the application, and it stung for a day after- wards but, heck, there she was, still in one piece, and surprisingly happy, and actually quite proud of the whole thing. A boy certainly wouldn't have reacted the same!
And slavery! That made girls extra special.
After all, the branding iron and rings put through the nipples? Wow. Yet, Stacy had never heard of a girl having to be dragged kicking and screaming into the preparation room. They just took it as a natural part of slavery. Was it any wonder then that girls felt so special towards one another? Was it any wonder that they made love with each other at any chance they got? No, definitely, girls had something special going for them.
Victoria parked the car near the county court house and the three of them entered the stately elm-cloaked old building. Others too were arriving" and Stacy was immediately aware of the dignity and good taste which was apparent in the people.
She had thought perhaps, not having been to a slave sale before, that people would be lined up for hours to get in, bustling and shoving for good seats. It certainly must be a very sexual thing.
Yet, slavery was not that new anymore, and the well-dressed people were calm and polite. If there was excitement, it didn't show in their leisurely pace and conversation.
An attractive court page met the people as they came in, trim in her pretty blue outfit. Victoria asked her the pertinent questions.
"Well, the slave sale starts at three, ma'm, in the assembly hall downstairs. The branding and nipple- ringing of the young ladies will be at 2:30 in Room
B, adjoining the assemby hall. If you wish to' attend that function, you must apply for a pass from the County Clerk, Room F, right over there.
Room B holds only thirty people, so we must limit the number of passes to the preparation of the, young ladies. Also, children aren't allowed for the preparation, but they may attend the actual sale and see the completed branding and ringing there, of course. You are early enough, however, and I'm sure that all the passes for Room B aren't gone yet."
"Thank you," said Victoria. "How many females are on sale today?"
"Seven, at last count," answered the page.
The necessary passes were obtained and
Victoria, Stacy and Sondra made their way to the basement room where they selected a first row trio of seats. None of the slaves had arrived as yet, for it was just after two, but slowly the audience grew and one by one the various young ladies arrived and sat in a special row of chairs on one side of the open floor at the front. Stacy studied the young women. All seven were in their early twenties, per- haps not more than three years apart from the youngest to the oldest. Obviously on this day there did not happen to be any young ones in their teens who planned early marriage. Stacy had hoped that perhaps there might be one or two her own age today, for Victoria had mentioned that two months ago she had seen a sixteen-year-old sold and Stacy had visions of seeing a young one with her rings and brands. No matter, the seven that were here were quite nice, and young enough. It would be fun.
Shortly before 2:30 a young nurse arrived with her carrying case and laid out her equipment on a table. There was the branding iron, electric, with a long cord, which she plugged into a wall socket.
The piercing needle and a small case of shiny rings followed, and then her application of cotton dabs, alcohol, burn ointment and towels. Stacy started to tingle.
"Sandy Bennett?" asked the nurse. A young lady with medium-brown hair stood up. She wore glasses and was extremely attractive.
"You may hang your clothes on the rack there,
Sandy, and pick them up after the sale," said the nurse.
The young lady reaffirmed Stacy's love for girls.
She undressed without hesitation, no particular blushing apparent, until only her white panties remained. She put her clothes on the rack, and her glasses on top. She was lovely! She came over to! the nurse and put her hands behind her, for the handcuffs, without being told. Stacy sighed in admiration. After all, the branding and ringing could be done in private without an audience. But why waste such an exciting event on just the nurse? It would be done to a girl either way; so why not let others enjoy it? Women voters had ap- proved of an audience. Stacy sighed again. Weren't girls wonderful!
The young woman was handcuffed, and brought to the center of the room to face the spectators