I saw friends lives being threatened. They were being told that they didn't have any right to exist. I saw the economy tank and all of my retirement savings disappear. I saw changes happening so fast that I couldn't keep up. I can't even tell you the order of events that led me to Re-Education Camp 29 which got the nickname of "Sissy School".
MAGA had always been about eliminating so-called feminine traits from men and butch traits from women. I always present as very masculine but someone or something ratted me out. I ended up in solitary confinement in REC29. I was set for recycling and in solitary I was completely immobilized with Tomi Lahren videos playing nonstop; telling me my new place in this MAGA world. Despite all of this, I was still in denial about my fate. Even when my owners came to pick me up, I still couldn't believe it was real.
Sarah and Tom Bradley weren't just a power couple but Tom was the new CEO of the Chicago branch of the Warriors of Liberty and in charge of creating good Christian programming for the Midwest. As part of the New States Rights movement, national broadcasts had gone off the air except for the Nightly "Trumpdates" where Stephen Miller gave a two our update about our Dear Leader's daily successes. This important job of creating new proper MAGA programming kept Tom very busy but also necessitated a lot of care and service and, as their new servant, I was expected to provide it.
The Bradleys had put off their state-assigned servant selection until most of the bugs had been worked out of the system. Being a good Christian couple, they specifically wanted an atheist to serve them. They also asked for someone without any tattoos, which was a tall ask in 2027. But, I had never been touched by a needle.
When I got to their house I was impressed by its immensity. As part of the underclass, I had only been able to afford a small one-bedroom apartment. As part of the Winning Class, the Bradleys had a palatial estate. I wondered how I would be able to manage cleaning their place. After the Great Brown Purge, anyone who looked even the slightest Latino was shipped out of the country. The lucky ones made it to other countries while some died in Alcatraz or any the prisons that were once military bases. After the USA-Russia Pact, there was no need for a US military as we're now under the protection of Friend Putin.
In order to provide the help to the Winning Class, the underclass was jailed, re-trained, and allowed to serve the Winners (as they liked to be called). I had been outfitted with a chip in my brain, courtesy of Friend Elon which guaranteed that I couldn't abandon my post and that I would be the best I could be for the Bradleys or any of their friends.
The Bradleys lived in a gated community where the guard wore the same drab REC29 uniform I wore. Sarah took the opportunity on entering the subdivision to berate the guard, verbally insulting him with glee. I wondered when she would do the same to me.
When I arrived at the Bradley place in Sarah's CyberTruck, still in my chains, it was Sarah who opened the door to find me. I don't know if I gasped but I may have. She was the perfect example of a true Aryan woman. She stood at 5' 8" in her white high heeled shoes. Her long legs wore flesh-colored pantyhose under her knee-length red skirt. She wore a low-cut blue blouse and completed the look with the requisite red MAGA hat that the Winning Class always wore with pride.
"Oh, look at you," she chided, seeing me for the first time. "I thought we were supposed to be getting a prime slave. I don't know what you are."
She turned on her heel and walked back into the house, leaving me wondering if I should follow her. I decided that I should do just that and rushed inside to find her waiting at the foot of the double staircase leading up to their bedrooms. She signaled for me to follow her to a small door to the right of the stairs. "These are the servant quarters," she said. "You will be allowed to sleep here when you're not needed elsewhere. You will need to be up and working every morning at 5AM unless told otherwise. For now, go in and shower and get changed. Your uniform is laid out on your bed."
I wasn't sure what a uniform as servant to the Winning Class would look like but it wasn't what I was expecting. I found laid out on the small cot a pair of stockings, a short back skirt, and a black blouse. There was also an apron and a pair of ankle shackles that connected to a similar pair of wrist shackles. I wasn't sure if this was to keep me from running away or to show me their power over me. Because, the slow realization was creeping up my spine leaving me with a hot and cold sensation along my back. I belonged to these people. This wasn't any kind of temporary situation. This was now my life and it was all legal and above board according to Constitution 2.0.
There was a pounding on the door. "Are you ready yet, libtard?" I heard Sarah bellow. Before I could answer, she opened the door and came in. "Silly me, I forget that I don't need to be polite," she laughed stepping in and coming over to me.
"Oh, this is nice," she said, pulling at my blouse. "Look at the fucking liberal pussy all dressed up like he should be in a fucking dress. I've heard stories about you beta bitches and I'm excited to see how true they are." She lifted up the hem of my skit and straightened one of my stockings.
"Tell me what you think about me," she commanded.
"Oh, Miss, you ae just so beautiful. I am so honored to be yours," I said, finding myself bowing in little bows and staring down at my feet.
"How can you say I'm beautiful when you're not even looking at me?" she asked. "Look at me. Look at my body. I work out five days a week; burpees and Zumba. Look at this butt," she commanded, turning around. "Tell me this isn't the best butt you've ever seen."
"It is a wonderful butt, Miss," I said, looking at how good it looked under her skirt.
"That isn't good enough," she said. She bent over and pulled her skirt up, giving me a better look. "Get down behind me and kiss this ass," she commanded.
I got down on my knees behind her. I leaned close and began kissing her ass over the pantyhose. I planted little kisses on her perfect behind.
"That isn't good enough," she said before pulling down her pantyhose and underwear, baring her ass to me. "Kiss it better... in fact, French kiss it. I hear you libtards like to eat ass. It's time to eat mine."
I pulled apart her asscheeks and put my tongue against he beautiful puckered rosebud. The bleached blonde also bleached her asshole. My tongue pushed past her sphincter until it went deep inside her. "Oh fuck," she growled as I began tongue-fucking her. "That's good. You're a good little pussy boy," she moaned. "This is what it means to serve a MAGA Goddess, bitch."
I continued feasting on her ass. The smell of her womanly musk filled my nostrils and I felt myself getting aroused. I wasn't sure if this was allowed or not but my body couldn't help reacting. I wanted to rub up against her leg, hump her like a dog, but I knew this isn't for me, that I was there to serve her.
"Say the words," she told me. "Say the fourteen words into my ass." I immediately went into the 14 Words that had been drilled into my head during my stay at REC29, the 14 words that now began the New Declaration of Independence. "We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children," I said into her ass as I continued to lick her there.
"I see that our new property is working out well," I heard a man say from somewhere behind me.
"Oh, yeah," she said. "He's a real dirty beta bitch."
"How do you.... use him?" the voice said.
"Any way you want, honey. Anything you desire. He won't say no. He can't say no."
She let out another long moan as I continued tongue fucking her tight asshole.
"How was work?" she asked between moans.
"It was good. All of the Fox gear that was liberated after the purge is in top order. I've just been busy casting the new sitcom that will play before the nightly Trumpdates. I've got Kevin Sorbo as the father and Stacey Dash as the maid. I'm just working on finding the right kid roles. There are a pair of Miss Universe contestants that may end up playing the twins."
"Shit, babe, that little cuck is going to town. It's one thing to serve a MAGA Princess," he said, "But I want to see how libtards react when they see a real man."
She pushed me away from her ass, my tongue reluctantly leaving her. I kneeled back on my heels only to see Tom Bradley standing next to her. He was dressed in loafers, khaki pants, and a blue oxford. He stood at over six feet tall and I could tell he was very well built before he even started to unbutton his shirt.
"As a good Christian man, homosexuality is a sin. But that's a relationship between two men. You may have been a man once but you gave that up when the Woke Mind Virus robbed you of your manhood. There's scientific proof that liberals have statistically smaller pricks, to the point where you're not even classified as men anymore. You're just a beta bitch put on this earth to serve your superiors like Sarah and me." He began to undo his belt but left his pants on.
"Get up on your feet and bend over your cot," he commanded. I did as he said.
Before I felt the blow I heard the singing of his belt whizzing through the air. The crack of the leather of his belt against the material of my skirt was surprisingly loud. Tears began welling in my eyes immediately. This was no play, this was Tom teaching me my place. After five heavy blows, Sarah stepped in and lifted up my short skirt and pulled down my panties, leaving my ass exposed.
A flurry of blows landed on my bare skin, setting my flesh on fire.
"Have you sucked cock before, bitch?" Tom asked as he continued whipping me.
"Yes, sir," I had to admit.
Sarah started laughing at me while Tom was condescended to me.
"I knew it. All you liberal cucks are the same. You're a bunch of cocksucking faggots. Did you get fucked before?"
"Yes, sir," I barely croaked, trying to contain my crying.
"Such a faggot slut," he said. "No wonder we won. MAGA doesn't allow that. We are proper Christians and the Moral Majority. Your kind was too concerned about pronouns and fake climate change. Our kind are the winners of the world. The true Masters of this planet. And it's only right that you be under our heels now." He rained down blows with every other word of his tirade.
Soon I was a crying mess. This seemed to really make Tom and Sarah happy.
"This is first step to taking the red pill," Sarah whispered into my ear as I sobbed.
Sarah threw a towel at me and told me that I had an hour to get cleaned up before I would be required to serve them dinner.
I showered again, feeling the hot burn from the welts on mu behind scream as the water hit them. After I dried myself off, I returned to tiny bedroom where I found fresh clothes on the cot and something very special.
On the middle of my thin pillow I found a golden buttplug. Turning it over, I saw that it was capped with a red jewel with white lettering of "M" on the base. I swallowed hard before pushing it inside of myself with a loud grunt.
I put on a new pair of panties and another maid outfit before heading out to find what the evening held...
