It's A Man's World

~1~

Here I was. This is where I lose my last bit of dignity I have. This is where we are treated like cattle ready to be turned into a juicy piece of steak.

"3207, come to examining room D3." A women's voice came over the speakers.

She is extremely lucky that she has a job, most girls are stuck being sex slaves for a bunch of filthy men. You can usually only get a job if your master is super rich and his multiple women, he gives you permission to get a job. He gets all the money though.

I walked up to the huge stage and went to room D3.

I was at the Judging Tent. The Judging Tent is a huge building where a bunch of men judge women who are turning 18 that year on a couple of factors like face structure, breast size, stomach size, leg length, butt size, eye color, skin shade, and skin complexion. According to your score, they decide which CS you will be assigned to. The more 'perfect' you are, the better CS you will be sent to.

My parents have been conditioning me for my whole life so that I would have a nice future. My mom loved me dear and although my dad never said it, I think he did too.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in?" A harsh voice snapped at me, awakening me from my thoughts.

"Sor..sorr..sorry..sir." I stuttered and bowed my head down submissively.

"Whatever." He said and pulled me into the room.

He told me to strip, so I did so. All I was wearing was a thin silk robe.

He took out a tape measure and started measuring me and writing numbers down. I stood there, perfectly still.

"Not bad." I heard the man mutter as he pushed me onto the examining table and stuck a weird tool up inside me. Did I forget to tell you, they measure that too?

"Your dad did you good." He said as he took out the weird tool and wrote down the numbers it gave.

"It's quite a shame I can't lay you down and fuck the shit out of you right now." He winked at me.

As gross as that was, what he said was a good thing. That was a huge compliment for a man.

I supported a weak smile as I slid on my robe. The man unlocked the door and let me out.

"Give this to the people at the tables." He told me and handed me my results. I would look at them but it's not like I can read.

I went to the table where I was directed and handed the man the paper. He gestured me to sit in the chair beside me before pulling out a tattoo gun. Under the previous one I had that said my number and date of birth that I had to have done when I was one, he tattooed five small black dots. I will take that as a good thing.

Now my wrist read;

{3207}

{1994}

{ ••••• }

The next step is the sorting tent. But that's in a week.