The human race, over its thousands of years of existence, has slowly separated into two distinctive species: Slaves, and masters. The masters bred slaves they liked, and slowly fundamentally changed them. The slave race was evolved dimorphically. Their men became stronger, but also submissive, obsequious and unintelligent. They were bred to be effective manual laborers, just smart enough to follow orders and yet without the intelligence to effectively rebel. Rebellion, or even the suspicion it was intended, meant death, and so they became paranoid, always fearing they gave the impression that they were dissatisfied, or worse, meant to do something about it. In following orders, they found the peace of knowing they were avoiding suspicion. Some even discarded any desire for freedom, and grew to love a life of orders, seeing no hope of anything better. Their women, typically sex slaves, became stunning to the eyes. Their bodies varied in many ways, as did their minds. Some were stupid, others surprisingly smart - since masters varied on what they preferred sexually. Common among them was their lust for dominant men, a necessity considering the mischief uncontrolled intelligence in a slave could cause. Better she prefers the loving of her master to freedom, so her mind wouldn't wish to change the status quo. Their love for their masters was rivalled only by their disgust for their own males, a race of servile idiots. It turned out that the female slaves had learned that becoming the favorite of their master was a route to an easy and pleasurable life. To love their men would result in a painful and unpleasant existence. It soon became necessary to, in order to continue developing the slave race, to breed them by force. An unfortunate tenth of the women with desirable qualities would be confined to breeding camps, to ensure these traits were passed on. Eventually the female slaves in that position mentally broke, and conceded to the pleasures of the body without hope of ever finding the love of a master.
The masters, ever fearful of their lineages being snuffed out by interbreeding, first practiced eugenics to sharpen their minds and bodies. The men have considerable intelligence, and a naturally dominant presence the slaves couldn't even pretend. Their height and musculature made the rather squat male slaves pale in comparison. Their women were little different, filled with the master race's unconquerable spirit and natural confidence. Their women ooze a barbarian, animalistic spirit, tending to be far more muscular compared to slaves of their gender. They are rather forward with their sexual desires, their amazon-like bodies often craving a good "fight" after a stressful day. Even they still enjoy the feminine pleasure of submission, though they prefer to be overpowered into it. They often enjoyed lesbian dalliances with female slaves as well, and this was of little concern since it offered no opportunity for genetic dilution. Sex slaves between master couples are more like sex toys than sexual competitors.
Masters who interbred with their slaves were immediately executed alongside their unfortunate slave. Half-breeds were obvious, owing to their widely different natures, and were quickly killed off lest they bring their slave genes into the pool of the masters. No other crime in this society merited immediate execution, but nothing less could be trusted to maintain their purity. Birth control was also government-subsidized, with implants being ubiquitous among sex slaves. A master isn't going to put on a condom, after all.
If there was any defining quality to the masters, it was a will to make others do the boring, annoying stuff, so they could live their lives at leisure. But when nothing has to be done, life becomes about doing what is wanted. They together share an aspiration to see what heights of culture they could reach, to see how "civilized" they could become. What they choose to do with their days varied from seeing what heights of fitness they could reach, becoming preeminent scholars in a fascination of theirs, constructing ever more ornate architecture, perhaps dedicating themselves to crafting art of various kinds, and enjoying together their increasingly beautiful culture. The slaves walked the earth, they thought, so they could look towards the stars upon their backs. How they handle conflict shows another side of them, as inevitable as the cultural heights people with nothing to do but dream reach. There is no such thing among masters as backing down, which shows fear. Fear is viewed as the emotion of the slave, and being slavish is social suicide. They fight easily and often over trivial things, but tend to end it quickly, strengthening bonds together of mutual respect for their strength, and their willingness to show it. Even losing is respectable - for the loser's spirit still showed its refusal to submit, even with the cost of losing. Overly emotional aggression shows fear as well - while a light and rather playful fighting showed a dominance in one's spirit, where even a fight is a light and frivolous thing. There's something respectable about a master who can go from steaming rage to icy cool in the blink of an eye, as the situation no longer requires it. For conflicts without reconcilability, duels are common, an honorable way to resolve the unresolvable.
Despite the masters' best efforts, mutations occur, and dandelions grow in grass fields. Occasionally still, slaves without the traits bred into them occur. Jennifer is one such example. She bristled at a life of bondage, and seemed undefeated by the attempts to bring her into line. She powerfully desired freedom, and always sought to get it. She always thought of slavery as morally wrong, and tried to raise a slave revolt - at 16! Her dedication to her principles was unfaltering. Eventually, she was handed over from her training school to the local Disobedience Management Authority, who tested her intelligence, and found it impressive. Among the masters, it would be above average, among the slaves, exceptionally rare. Disobedient slaves were an exotic curiosity for the masters, who in prior ages simply would have instead slaughtered them. They were rare enough, and the general stock so incapable of revolt, that they were treated as harmless curiosities. She could have raised a rebellion, if her race had any will to fight. Instead, her attempts to do so made her feel alone, as the people she spoke to fled from her, fearing to be suspected of rebelliousness. As far as she has seen, her tendency to refuse to back down, unlike almost any other slave, left her alone among her kind. Her desire for freedom met blank stares. She couldn't win a slave revolt by herself, and nobody else cared to try. She realized her fierce independence would doom her to an unpleasant life. If only she had been born a master!
A problem for her since puberty was, she was just like her peers from the waist down. She thought enslavement was wrong, and yet it was the basis for this society, and she was powerless to change it. She hated the two-tiered society she lived in, and wished for it to be equal, but her body had been shaped by thousands of years of her ancestors submitting. Her spirit hated to be caged, wishing to rebel, and yet her enemies, the bullies who ran things, caused her loins to stir so powerfully. As she thought about how to overcome the masters, she fantasized about being made the concubine to one, and having blissful nights of lovemaking. She fantasized about their musculature, their presence, even their smell somehow was dominating. Her womb ached for their sperm. It was so wrong. She wished her body would stop betraying her, quit desiring the seed of a master, but then time and time again she masturbated herself raw at the thought of being dominated by them. She hated herself a bit for this. Why couldn't she agree with herself to hate, to not desire, those who enslaved others? They were evil! Ruthless! They had blood on their hands. She dripped at the thought. Her pussy seemed to say to her, "That means they're dominant. And I like dominant." With a cry of frustration, she laid down and masturbated some more. Her principles didn't apply down there. Her cunt was that of a slave.
Ion is a young man of the Atriem household. His mother enjoys working at the Disobedience Management Authority, and she thinks Jennifer would be a nice gift for her son, whose tutoring is almost finished. If some masters are cruel, others kind, he was on the kinder side. Yet, as he had been instructed, never would he let his kindness become weakness. Ion, who easily dominate, rather preferred not to. Considering a life in landscape painting, a smart woman would be an invaluable assistant to his creativity. When he was of age, he would also be given the rights to one of his parents' plantations, so income wasn't a problem. But that place only has its male slaves, and he wouldn't have a companion. That's why she was here. The typical slaves had little soul, and no aesthetic sense, but she sensed something much more refined in her. She would make a great gift. A request to her friend made it happen.
Ion was startled to see such a big gift box given to him on graduation day. He noticed air holes along the top. His mother said, "Open it." In it was Jennifer, her ankles and wrists tied together, her mouth gagged. His mother said, "Her papers are in order. She's your first slave." He said, "I really appreciate this gift. But it's cruel to stuff her into this box like that!" He ungagged Jennifer, and untied her. She shakily stepped out of the box. She looked into Ion's face, and realized his heart wasn't cruel. She put her sense of dread to rest. "Thanks. Could I steal your drink? She -" She glared at his mother, who innocently smiled back. "- made me sit in here for a whole day. I am so thirsty. So cramped." Ion shrugged. "Not feeling like finishing it anyway." After she chugged down Ion's half-finished drink, she added, "So I want you to know I'm not a slave girl who is all yes master this, yes master that. If you bite me, I'll bite back." She sighed. "If I had the choice, I'd either be leading a slave revolt, or just become another of those lust-crazed submissives. Instead, I'm just me." Ion remarked, "Mom was talking about how interesting you are. An exception to the usual stock. I'm surprised she made you my gift." He grabbed her face with one hand, shoving his thumb into her mouth and rubbing her tongue. Her knees buckled slightly, and she blushes intensely. "I see you blushing! Maybe you have an independent mind, but that's a slave body." He said to his parents, "Mind if I confer with her privately?" The real meaning was obvious, and they happily released him. His mother stated, "Just so you know, she has her birth control implant." She came along willingly. Truthfully, she was unsure about his parents. They didn't seem cruel, but it was obvious they had no empathy for her. Their hearts were blind to the lives of their slaves. If she wanted things to work out well for her, she wanted to stick around him. When they entered his room, he said, "I don't judge you for what your body does. We masters respect a spirit that refuses to submit. Yet, your body is of a slave's. I just hope you can find a way to let your body have what it wants, while still being able to remain you."