School For Slaves Chapter 1

Story by ProudWolfess on SoFurry

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#1 of School for Slaves Main Story (School Path)

A story I will admit was based upon a Dream I had a while back. It is about Slave 42 and his experiences growing up as a Slave, and in later chapters, will be about life at the School, and life with his future Owner.

After growing up all my life in a small room with nothing but a mattress and my collar to call my own and whatever clothes I could get from the pile before the others to wear, I started school. Though its much like any school you have ever seen. Here we are taught the usual stuff, you know, math, reading, writing, how to please our Owners, you know, the usual. Oh? That last one seems a bit odd to you? Well perhaps I had better explain, you see, I am a slave, of a species that Humans have decided they are better than since they developed first, and therefore somehow own those that came after. Certain people among you would call us Anthros, or Furries, whatever you call us, it doesn't change that the humans treat us like shit.

We have no rights, from birth we are taken from our parent's arms and raised to serve our future Owners. We aren't even given names, just numbers. Mine's 42 by the way. I know there's a joke there, but lets move on.

I'd grown up, I'd guess, fairly normal for a slave. I was relatively happy, having known nothing of the outside world except for what we could hear our Handlers sometimes talking about, which looking back was a lot more than I thought.

Then one day the Handlers for my group gathered us together, and informed us we were to start school. A great many of us, myself included, thought this meant we were gonna be freed, but no, our hopes were quickly squashed as the Lead Handler said "This school is to get you slaves up to date on the most basic technology that you will encounter around your owners homes and to help you get skills to do some of the jobs more suited to you beings of lesser intelligence than to your superiors, us Humans."

Just about all of us did our best to stifle a groan at that comment since we knew we would be punished for questioning or mocking our Handler. Despite the fact we were equal to the Humans in intelligence, they acted as if the smartest we got was equivalent to their preteens. Its insulting, but its life. I guess in a way its true, without the benefit of the Human's school system, we couldn't learn much. And to really fuck us over, slaves had their own written language and it was the only one we were taught. Any computer we interacted with, upon detecting our collars, would change to a different interface, pretty much little more than a fricken store for us to buy stuff on behalf of our Owners and an assortment of heavily monitored programs for us to do digital odd jobs with.

Tvs and the like would not work for us. Basically, we only got to work. No fun toys and trinkets like the human children get. No fun programs to watch, unless we were one of the few lucky closed caption typists, who DID learn the human scrip and language.

Anyways, the Lead Handler lead a long metal chain around the room, hooking each of our collars up to it, before leading us out of our cell and out the building to a transport. He then locked each one of us with wrist and ankle restraints in addition to locking our collars into slots on the seats, forcing us into a really uncomfortable position with no hope of moving much.

I was, sort of thankfully, at the back of the transport, having a window to my right that I could see out of, giving me a delightful view of, well right now just the garage.

The sight I saw as we left the building, however, was breathtaking, with seemingly impossibly tall buildings surrounded by flying vehicles and pneumatic transport tubes everywhere! I couldn't help but make a sound of joy at the sight.

The Handler nearest me said "Beautiful sight, isn't it mutt? Too bad for you that you only get to see it between pens."

I made a slight sound showing I was offended at being called a mutt, knowing better than to speak to the Handlers without permission.

"Don't scoff at me slave. You are a mutt dog, a weird ass fucking wolf wannabe. I think that it's best you are kept on such a short leash." the Handler says with a slightly evil chuckle.

I try my best to tune him out but he keeps on. As we pass a huge tree, I feel my ears perk up in interest from the birdsong drifting in, and he says "Oh I get it, you'd love to go mark that tree wouldn't you? Just pissing on it like a little puppy and hoping that shows everyone its yours alone. Well too bad you stupid little mutt, you're locked up!"

I lose it and yell "Shut up you fucking idiot! You don't know what the hell you are talking about! I am not a fucking feral dog!"

Before I can start to realize what I did, the Handler is up and beating me with a wooden baton saying "Don't you DARE talk to your Betters that way you worthless flea-bitten mangy mongrel slavedog!"

The other slaves just look away, not wanting to be reminded even more of their role, though they couldn't block out the sounds of my pained screams and the hits of the nightstick.

By the time we make it to the "school" I am sore, bruised, and bleeding and the Handler has been dishing out even more insults with each hit.

We are quickly lead to the classrooms, which I found out later, surprisingly looked like normal human classrooms but with the desks bolted the floor with iron rings attached to the seats, after a quick breakfast of traditional slave food (gruel pretty much, but actually containing all the stuff we need to be healthy).

After the introduction to the Class Handler, a skinny tan woman with blonde hair and a long nose, we were told to sit down at the desks with our number and a Assistant Handler would lock us into place.

I went to my seat, but refused to sit when I saw that my seat was wet with something.

I tried to voice my complaint but got told by the Class Handler to shut up and be a good slave.

When I refused to sit, the Class Handler gave me a count to three before hitting something on her computer. Within a couple of moments my collar rang out with "My meal has been altered" and everyone stared at me.

The Class Handler, almost evilly, hissed out "Oh it looks like you are to go hungry for a while. I think you'd better go ahead and sit down so you don't waste the little energy you are gonna have the next few days."

Feeling embarrassed and realizing that that punishment had been being nice, I sit down right into the liquid before I can get a worse punishment. I never found out what it was, but it stank and made my butt itch.

The "Class" turns out to be an introduction to the Slave school. And the "Teacher" (Class Handler), for the hell of it, had a few non-slave language words written on her board, Most likely as an added insult and reminder that we are "stupider" than them.

To give you an example you are reading what is the slave language, once called English, however the language of the Free People, well I dunno the actual name for, but when I see it on the board, they call it Vametors, but it's in some weird script I can't even attempt to reproduce here due to these terminals not having the font.

At any rate, the Teacher went over the rules that we had to follow, the punishments for breaking them, which I assume are much worse than what Free Kids get, what happens if we perform bad, the date of something called the Inspection, our expected behavior during it, and after it. And, though it was kind of pointless to tell us as they would lead us directly to our next rooms, our schedules. At the end of class, She revealed to everyone that, yes, we did each have something different in our seats as a "welcoming" present, and a test to measure our obedience. I had performed less than satisfactory.

The next class was in the same room, and it was a review of our ability to read our language, followed by making us practice writing it so it would be neat enough for our Owners and Betters to read. The Teacher was enjoying making fun of us and just plain being mean, in fact, her exact words upon seeing my shaky script from the injuries I had sustained were "Sloppy, illegible chicken scratch may be acceptable to you idiotic slaves, but your Betters won't accept anything less than perfect legibility. Which may be asking too much from you stupid creatures."

Then Lunch rolled around, which was torture for me, I was lead in line with the others to the lunch room and they were all given food and lead to their seats, me in tow. I was fully restrained and without lunch, or water, so it was horrible. Then we were lead to a different classroom for our next classes.

These two covering Math and, well, Home Economics, you know, Cooking, Cleaning, and the like? Well I managed to get in trouble, again, in Math. I was struggling with it and tried to ask the teacher, but all I got from him was insults like, in the most sarcastic tone possible, "I can't believe a stupid animal is having trouble with Maths. Its almost like its trying to be people." So I ended up cussing under my breath. The teacher overheard and had me lead to his desk. When I got there he said "Now 42, how would you like me to call home and tell them about your behavior today?"

I gulped and apologized cause if he called the Slave Pen, I'd be beaten again, and not allowed to shower or leave my bed until time to get back on the transport.Satisfied he sat me back down, but not before giving me a big smile that made me feel extremely uncomfortable. I did the best i could to finish my work, unaided.

For Home Economics, he actually left and a different teacher came in, today carrying only some introductory books saying to us she wouldn't let us near her equipment unless we showed we understood how to use it safely and how to keep our fur out of the food, which she didn't have high hopes for as we were little more than "gussed up animals".

The last class of the day was pretty much a type of Gym Class. We were forced to work our bodies on various equipment for as long as the Handlers had us locked to them. And yes, we all suffered abuse from the Handlers, both verbal, and physical. I barely made it today and know I am not gonna be able to do what the Handlers ask tomorrow. I really hope that when my strength gives out, that I don't hurt myself, or anyone else.

When I am loaded on the transport again, the same Handler who had made my morning hell smiled an offsetting smile at me.

About five minutes after we started back, he said "So mutt, got in a lot of trouble did ya? I hope they let me join in your beating when we get back. Of course if you want to run that stupid little muzzle of yours, I'll be happy to beat you right now."

I keep my mouth shut but feel my eyes start to tear as I panic a little.

"I see that you know what I am talking about slave. Well, you knew what you were doing when you chose to prove your Betters right and you acted like the stupid beast you are." the guard says with a nasty chuckle.

He shuts up for the reminder of the trip but kept staring at me with that evil grin. I just found myself crying, dreading what would happen the very moment we were in the cell again.

Once we arrived, we were lead back to our cell. I was left restrained and lead to the middle of the room, where some chains are always dangling from the ceiling. They undid my restraints long enough to strip me completely naked and then locked my hands above my head.

With the usual flare for the dramatic, the Lead Handler read out what I had done during the day, what my punishments from the school were, and what my punishments from him would be, before finally taking a whip to my back for nearly twenty minutes and left me standing there for the night. Finally morning came back around and I was freed, however, I was not allowed to get any clothes other than something to cover my crotch.

The Lead Handler pulled me out of the room and rubbed some kind of oil on me that made me itch and burn, with the warning that if I stepped even one bit out of line today, I might be put down, especially if it was in a violent manner.

I wait for him to indicate I can speak, and, as per training, thank him for "correcting me", apologizing for my actions, promising upon my life I will not act out. He simply smiles and leads me back out to the rest of the slaves.

Transport went pretty much the same as the day before, with the same Handler picking on me, but I managed to ignore him, mostly due to being in such severe pain and discomfort I couldn't focus.

And upon realizing that, my heart skipped a beat. I immediately focused my willpower into ignoring my discomfort so I can avoid trouble Same routine before class as yesterday, except I don't get to eat and do stay restrained. Once in class, the teacher reviews the rules, mocks me for being stupid, has me led to her, and locks me to her desk.

She makes me sit in the floor like a feral dog and moves on with class, even teaching the next class with me squatted behind her desk, still completely restrained.

Again, Lunch rolls by, I don't get food, nor water, stay fully restrained.

Then Math class. I've learned my lesson and try to work out the problems on my own, though the teacher mocked me and teased me, even literally throwing some salt in my wounds.

Home Economics wasn't much better. In fact, the Handler wouldn't even let me read the books cause it seemed I was unable to follow instructions good enough for her. And again I found myself tied up at the front of the classroom like a feral, though this time I was informed it was a permanent thing that is, I had failed her class and as such, deserved only to be treated like the stupid animal I was. She actually threw a chew toy down at me and told me to chew on it. I did so, knowing doing otherwise would be punished, and she laughed and said "Now that I give you a little chewtoy like I would a little doggy you listen. Seems you are nothing more than a stupid mutt dog after all."

I sighed as softly as I could. I could only pray that my future Owner would think a lowly slave like me still had any value missing one of the essential skillsets. I mean I still could try, but slaves are supposed to be perfectly ready for their Owners when they are sold. Not having their Owners having to train or retrain them. And having even one Failure eliminates me from being Breeding Stock as it means my intelligence is inferior somehow.

If I'm not at least examined at the Inspection, well, lets just say I will no longer be serving my Owners down here, but the hopefully the ones above.I suppose part of what makes living as a slave a little easier for us is we are taught a strange religion from birth. Basically that we will never be free, good little slaves go to Paradise to wait on their Betters and have their bodies altered to better serve them. Bad slaves go to, well, Hell, where we are punished in the cruelest ways forever and ever, the punishments getting worse and worse and worse and no matter how well we serve our Betters there, everything results in severe punishment. I never really believed in it, but at that moment, I was a true believer. Non-existence or even Hell was worse than that idea of "Heaven", though honestly I knew no other. Eventually the class was over, and we were lead to our daily exercise.

I fared about as well as I expected, just barely escaping punishment.

The usual Handler gave me a hard time on the trip back to the pen, but after the day I had, I just managed to ignore him as my thoughts were elsewhere.

As expected, I was chained to my bed when we got back. I just laid down and cried. I had failed a class. A big one. The Inspection was still months away, but the Class Handler had already decided one incident was more than enough to refuse to teach me the skills I need to keep my life or at least get the best life a slave can have.

School for Slaves: Chapter 2

The next day I was awoken early and lead to the Lead Handler's office. Really a place no slave wants to be when they first wake up, or even any time after as it usually means we are in big trouble. After a few minutes mocking me for my stupidity, he...

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