This story contains adult content that could be offensive to some readers. It is the twenty-second century. Things have changed a lot in the last hundred years. There were two major pandemics, then another civil war and a series of corrupt politicians followed by the collapse of the financial system as we knew it. Annuities and certificates of deposit became worthless.

Banks still exist, but only as shells of their former entities. With banks no longer making loans, one has to go to unsavory characters in a loan cartel. People are used as collateral. Human bondage has been legalized.

I'm an independent contractor called a Collateral Collector. My work is similar to doing a car repossession, only it's people. Humans are securitized, used as collateral. We call it collateralized. It's the accepted norm in this era. If you need a loan to keep your business afloat, or your home from being foreclosed, you sign over a household member to securitize it. For some, it's a way to get rid of a spouse without a messy divorce. If you default on a payment, the cartel sends me to collect.

Julie's family business fell behind on paying taxes. Nowadays that's a jailable offense. If dad were to go to prison, the family would lose its provider and be destined for homelessness with three other kids. They opted to collateralize Julie and have once again fallen behind on their payments. It was early in the day when I rang the doorbell. A gaunt-looking woman opened the door.

I led Julie outside to the front porch, closed the door, and zapped her ass.

“Hey!”

“You need to show some respect, move a little faster, show some hustle. Time is money.” - - -

When an individual gets collected, they cease to exist as a legal entity, meaning they disappear off the grid, expunged from the computer records, leaving them with the same rights as a pet dog. Driver's licenses and passports are immediately invalidated, as well as access to all financial assets. The cartels had used their political influence to this end as a means of discouraging defaults. - - -

“You must really like that guy to sign off on a deal like that, Jennifer.”

. “I do. Well, I did. How could I have let him talk me into it. I'm such a sap. At least now I know what I'm good for in his eyes.”

“The form says you are age thirty-five. I'm surprised the loan cartel accepted a woman that old as collateral. I can see why they did, though. You have one fine ass.”

“Excuse me?” - - -
With photo in hand, we searched for her.

“That's her!” exclaimed an excited Julie.

“Angel Anders, I'm John Duly, Collateral Collector. You're being collected.”

“You're as cute in real life as in your photo,” said Julie.

Angel's stunned expression suggested she was about to faint.

“Mrs. Anders, any attempt to flee, evade or elude an agent of the cartel is considered a Class A felony. I'm obliged to inform you of your lack of rights. As a collectee, you are removed from society when your lien is sold. You have no claim on any marital assets, any financial accounts or any other possessions.” - - -
The new training collars are linked into the Global Positioning System. They can track you globally as well as zap you within that same range whenever we push this button on your personal zapper's special frequency unique to only you.