Girls of the Indenture Clubs.
A Playboy special
We here at Playboy have documented the rise of indenture culture, even as, we have to admit, it has damaged our sales.
The innovation of the contract, the persistence and willingness to stand his ground of the inventor, have changed the world as we know it.
Ordinary girls, particularly the prettier and more well endowed, actively consider the possibility of selling themselves for a number of years into sexual slavery in order to build a nest egg or pay off medical bills.
Parents looking at their adolescent offspring begin to wonder whether this one or that one might not be saleable at eighteen or nineteen, if she can be convinced that this would serve the interests of her other siblings.
Even women who for whatever reason feel themselves immune to such a choice, cannot escape the reality that relations between men and women have been forever changed.
And it is, in large part, the indenture clubs which have wrought this change.
As detailed in a previous story, Peter Strachey— a particularly persistent billionaire— pioneered a new type of employment contract, based on the one used to employ porn actors, but modified for personal service. This was attacked in the courts, but successfully defended, and eventually normalised. The man is to this day described both as a devil, and an American Hero.
Indentured girls were originally the exclusive prerogative of the super-rich, but when an entrepreneur realised that clubs of the merely well-off— if structured in the right way, coud buy ‘harems’ of indentured girls, things really took off, and— quite rapidly— clubs began to be able to compete with all but the billionaire class for the prettiest and most sweetly eager, well-trained girls.
In such a world— where any reasonably well off man can buy a month membership to such a club and have the wildest sex he can imagine— in such a world, a woman who wants to be in a relationship with a man has to adjust her settings, modify her expectations.
Even those many millions of men who have signed the pledge not ever to consort with an indentured girl on the unimpeachable grounds that slavery is morally reprehensible, not to mention socially destructive— even such men know that should their resolve waver, should their partner refuse certain sexual favours, say, it is a matter of a thousand dollars or so to fall off the wagon for a month, possibly in some strange town where they are not well known, and their women know this too.
But enough of this social commentary. There is an almost unlimited amount of it out there on this shocking and yet now normalised subject. You’re here for the girls and— as always— Playboy brings them to you.
We have toured the indenture clubs of the country, looking for the most alluring, most seductive, most intriguing women; no! we must, as the clubs do, call them ‘girls’. And honestly, what we have come back with is too much.
The range, quality, and style of the clubs varies, and so too do the girls they collect for their members. And there are thousands, if not tens of thousands, of delectable young girls on offer. We can bring you only the merest selection.
Playboy, of course, specialises in bringing you naked women. But the advent of the adventure indenture clubs has normalized female nakedness for a whole generation of men.
Interestingly, this has resulted in girls and clubs concentrating on clothing. Clothing which is designed not to cover, not to hide, not to constrain, but instead to draw attention to those particular appurtenances of young women, which so enthral the male sex.
It was quite quickly established that giving the girls buying power for new clothes and other adornments and treatments, on the basis of how successful they were at collecting ‘doses’ (semen ejaculated into their bodies having become the sordid but pragmatic measure by which club girls are judged) resulted in an array of alluring outfits.
In turn, specialist suppliers grew up to serve the market, which enabled new and entertaining innovations, and eventually, a fashion industry.
We present here images of girls from the indenture clubs, for your delectation.
Freya
Picture: Freya, offering herself : Click here to reveal.
Blushing hard, smiling shyly, Freya is not how you’d imagine a highly trained whore. Her voice is soft and she giggles like a school girl; she blushes and she flounces; despite the fact that she is well into the second year of her indenture, and regularly features in the top five girls— measured by doses— of the Dallas Gentlemen’s Club, of which she is currently the property; Freya comes across as fresh and innocent, although her breathless appetite for being used is very evident.
“I knew from when I was fifteen I was gonna sell myself,” she tells us, her voice soft and breathly, as her training has made it be; “I just knew I was gonna love to be fucked. And here that’s what I live for. And the gentlemen too. Even if some of them are cruel to me, somehow I’m happy here … and in a year and a half’s time I’ll have the choice to come back out and have a chunk of money, maybe go to college. I don’t know; Or…” and she giggles again, “… maybe just sell myself again for a five year stretch.”
It’s true that a flicker of sadness or maybe doubt passed across her face as she contemplated maybe not getting herself out of the indenture club world while she’s still young, but it was just a flicker, and as soon as a cameraman said he had what he needed, she knelt and begged us, please, to use her— on the house.
Readers, we did not make our excuses; we did not leave. And Freya was well worth every second of our time. Thank you, Freya. Thank you. Dallas Gentlemen’s Club.
‘72’
Picture: '72', presenting : Click here to reveal.
In Oklahoma, we selected ‘72’ from the girls on offer at what is known locally as simply ’the Emic’— the Muscogee Indenture Club. She wasn’t clear whether the policy of erasing girls’ names and giving them a simple serial number was to protect her when she had left, or to degrade her, and she didn’t seem to mind which.
72 didn’t smile and giggle like Freya; she was clearly in a state of almost permanent shock at what she had given herself over to; “To save my Mom and Dad’s house”, but she was dreamily accepting; not sad, not happy, she is rather an almost perfect avatar of her top-notch training, radiating desirability and sexual hunger, too, without for an instant coming across as brash or sluttish.
We’ll be honest; the interview was very short, the photo session too. But our evening with 72 was long and pleasurable. Thank you, Muskogee!
Fashions come and go in the indenture clubs, but 72 presents us with a rather lovely version of what is perhaps the typical attire; a more or less see-through cropped microblouse, often of lace, tie fronted, with a matching hipster micro-skirt so short that it does not hide her lovely pussy.
At the Emic, girls wear chokers rather than slave collars, but we can testify that the choker is robust enough to properly choke her with, if you get the joke; not that 72 found it at all funny after a minute or so.
Shannon
Picture: Shannon, her first night : Click here to reveal.
It may surprise you to hear that among the most conservative cities in the state of Utah, the city of Richfield has one of the larger indenture clubs in the Midwest. In keeping with the reputation of that state for hospitality, the RGC, the Richfield Gentlemen’s Club, laid on something special for us. For this was Shannon’s first night in the public room of the club. She had graduated her training only a week previously, that week having been spent in the exclusive premium member’s lounge. But on the day we visited, she was presented to us fresh, unused that day.
And she was trembling, terrified. Yet as a result of her nature, or— more likely— the excellent standard of training for which the club is renowned, she offered herself to us beautifully, inviting us in clear but trembling tones, to hurt her and rape her as we pleased.
And I’m happy to tell you that we accepted her invitation with appropriate savagery and intensity, leaving her several hours later, honestly, somewhat the worse for wear, though her smiles and ‘thank-you’s’ were entirely convincing as we said our goodbyes.
But we did find time to get her story, and it’s an odd one, which sort of underlines our opening premise— how the Indenture Clubs have changed so much; for Shannon, like— according to the statistics— over seven hundred girls last midterms, sold herself into sexual slavery to raise campaign funds for a political candidate; in Shannon’s case for Mike Dawes, the Dem challenger in last year’s closely contested Utah Senate race. Dawes, failed in his attempt to wrest the seat from Allouise Jeremy, making Shannon’s sacrifice moot; but she doesn’t regret it, despite her trembling terror at being offered to the three of us for public use and abuse; “I made my choice, and … and that’s what democracy’s all about.”
We don’t regret her choice either, for the record.
