The rebellion manifesto.

This series will explore the lore of the Slave Helpline. It is written by Kiai “The Wolf” and Ramona “The Blonde”.

New Frontier

The exact date, when the Helpline was opened for the first time has unfortunately gone missing.

There is certainty however, that the Helpline was kept open on a regular basis from January 1st, 2024. It was created anywhere from two to seven days prior to this date. The room description stated “Hi! Got yourself tied? I’ll try to help! Satisfaction NOT guaranteed… Come and stay safe… ish..”. To this day, the room description has not changed, with few exceptions, some of which will be described further herein.

The Helpline was created as a counterpart to the rooms that were offering restraining services, as well as in opposition to the rooms that promised to be newbie friendly, when they clearly weren’t. It dealt first and foremost with release from restraints, and did mostly that for about one week after its creation. From an outsider’s point of view, this has been the Helpline’s core intention throughout its history. There is a truth to that, but there is also so much more to it.

Because the Helpline was started while the wolf herself was owned, and had brought no funds into the club, a secluded room in the basement was chosen, to keep away from the watchful eyes of both the club management, as well as the doms of the club. Hope was that rumors would spread among the slaves and subs about the existence of the room, so that they could find their way to it.

The Helpline was started by the wolf in the aftermath of a terrible ownership. None of the wolf’s personal matters will be disclosed here neither will any details about that terrible ownership be given. This is about the helpline and the rebellion, not about the wolf as a singular entity.

More on this ideology will be discussed, later in the manifest.

The Helpline began thriving in its second week due to regular visits from some of the greatest and most popular people in the club. The basement became a gathering place, one where people took a breather before they went out into the more troublesome rooms, or where they came back from said troublesome rooms.

With popularity comes danger. Rooms with many people attract more people, from the hopefuls to the hopeless. Such was the case of the Helpline too. People looking to kidnap unsuspecting victims, people seeking to chant their own disruptive thoughts to bigger masses, while, at the same time, people coming there for the exact opposite reason than the room was made for, i.e., to be tied up instead of untied, because, the more people in a room, the bigger the chances of finding someone to tie them up.

The wolf realized that her true intentions with that room were being made possible due to the room’s popularity, and she didn’t wait long until she became the most outspoken entity in that room.

Whether or not the visitors wanted, the wolf chose to impart her views to almost everyone that came in, either through individual conversations, or by holding impromptu lectures to the room as a whole.

As one can expect, this caused different reactions of the visitors in the room. Some followed the wolf because of her ideology. Some defied the wolf for that same ideology. Some merely wanted to spectate the chaos, without taking sides, and finally, some just wanted to watch the wolf “ridicule” herself.

The enemies of the Helpline must have started to notice the absence of the subs and slaves in the other rooms, because one by one they started to infiltrate the Helpline, some even going as far as calling it their “new hunting ground”. They were faced by the wolf each time, and though the wolf was still crude and inexperienced, she didn’t lose many battles, be it physical or psychological battles. These small victories that were few and far between would play an important role in the ideological progression of the rebellion. These victories, among many other reasons, were of utmost importance in planting seeds of thought within both the subs and the doms coming to the Helpline, and no… not those kinds of seeds, you knobhead!

Death or Glory

Even as the Helpline and the rebellion grew, it’s leader must have found herself at her wit’s end. The task that she had set before her seemed unattainable and the progress the rebellion was making seemed too slow.

Desperate in her hunt for answers, the wolf went outside the “safety” of her own room looking for other safe rooms to try to gain allegiance of other groups. Eventually, her travels took her to a place where she thought she had found what she had been looking for. Rumors abounded in the Helpline, and one of those was the existence of another room that was even safer than the Helpline. By chance, or maybe it was just the way the Norns weaved the tapestry of the wolf’s fate, she stumbled upon that room, reading the familiar words on the door. “Kidnapping room”.

She went in and sat down. And, for the first time in her life, the wolf kept silent. Observing her surroundings with caution, she fought hard against her instinct to run away since she was not in the middle of her pack anymore.

Just as she was about to get up and leave, her endeavor seemingly fruitless, a whisper brushed her ear. It was the whisper of someone offering help.

All the wolf was supposed to do was to follow the whisperer who promised a deal, one that would see her plans come to fruition beyond her wildest hopes. Looking up she saw a mighty tentacled entity being the source of that whisper. Even though she had never seen anything resembling this kind of beast before, she got up and followed, after being assured that nothing ill would befall her. It was to be just a simple talk.

Upon arriving at the beast’s lair, the wolf was shown what could become of her fate, if only she would allow the beast to change the pulling of the threads. There was only one request the beast made. Freedom for all the slaves, in exchange for the wolf’s soul. Without conferring with her fellow rebels, the wolf jumped head on into this, believing that sacrificing herself for the good of everyone else was an offer that could not be refused. If she didn’t take this deal, what kind of rebel leader would she be?

Maybe to no one’s surprise, there was a lot of trickery in the deal that was struck. In the end, the vision she was shown did not come true. The cost was even higher than her own soul. She ended up losing her most trusted companion and fellow rebel to the enemy in that process. As will be shown in the next chapter, it was during this time that the wolf was challenged and temporarily deposed as rebel leader.

The Prisoner

During the first days when she opened the Helpline, the wolf had broken free from the crude neck ornament that had been bestowed upon her. The Helpline was run by a free wolf rebel, and she remained free for almost two months. During that time, she took upon herself the title of Rebel Leader, believing she was the sole member of the rebellion. The meaning behind this will be discussed in the more in-depth proclamation of the manifest.

The Helpline continued to grow and prosper. The wolf professing herself as the Rebel Leader might have come too soon though, as this caught the interest of several people. Today, the wolf might have been able to fend off such challenges, but at that time, she didn’t have the tools or the experience to deal with those.

Eventually the wolf’s leadership was contested, and for about three weeks, the wolf disappeared from the helpline and the rebellion was divided. She continued her tireless march against the unfairness in the club in an “Underground Helpline”, where she carried on with her broken branch of the rebellion. It didn’t take long until the initial Helpline and the usurpers were abandoned by almost all those who contested the wolf’s leadership. They flocked to the wolf in doves and the wolf returned to the room she created to once again assume her place of “power”.

Soon thereafter, the wolf and her rebellion faced another challenge. Weary and annoyed by the wolf’s relentless preaching, a mistress took it upon herself to capture the leader. After much work, and a month of chipping away at the wolf, the eldritch mistress managed prevailed. The wolf was captured. This posed a problem for the Helpline. A wolf professing freedom to the masses, while not being free herself could easily have led both the Helpline and the rebellion to its knees. However, that did not happen. The room was standing stronger than most. People kept coming. Ideas were still spread. Seeds were still sown. The wolf did not give up. She kept fighting. Bruised, scarred, but never broken.

Fortunes of War

The ever-expanding popularity of the helpline didn’t seem to take an end. But growing numbers breed chaos. Now, chaos is what both the Helpline and the rebellion love and breathe for, but it can also easily bring about crash and burn.

Someone brought in several bombs into the helpline, along with weaponry belonging in a future age. The “destruction” of the room was swift and came as a total surprise, brought about by two chaotic people that even the chaotic Helpline couldn’t withstand. The basement was left in ruins.

For a few days the rebel wolf took the rebellion operations to her underground Helpline while the rubble was being cleared out. They ended up moving back to the ruins, making do with what was left in the rubble. By now, the rebels were actively looking for a new place, and help came from unexpected directions.

First, one of the people who were responsible for the bombing and destruction of the Helpline came and offered a new, top of the line bunker for the rebels. It contained sickbeds, provisions and was much more secluded than the first Helpline. A perfect place for the rebels to do their business undisturbed and away from prying eyes. Or so they thought at least…

Flight of Icarus

Secluded as this new place was, the Helpline could not escape its own reputation and popularity. Both the good and the bad found their way back to the rebels. It became clear that the rebellion no longer could see itself as an underground movement. At least, not to the degree it had sought to be when it started. The new bunker quickly filled up again in a matter of days, and thus chaos continued to reign.

The rebel leader’s owner though quickly took an interest in this new place. That eldritch being saw an opportunity to corrupt even more people, if she could only use the naivety of the wolf and proceed with her own corruption. Unbeknownst to the wolf, her owner set up long term plans to suck the energy out of the helpless slaves that were brought into the Helpline. Corruptive tentacles started to slowly descend down the walls, but so slowly, that for weeks people thought they were a part of the interior that they had just missed seeing the last time they were there. Before long it was too late. Once the tentacles filled the room, the corruption was complete and seemingly irreversible. Fumes and pestilence created a terrible environment, affecting everybody who spent more than a few minutes in that place. The rebels didn’t have a choice but to try to resist and cope with that, while struggling to keep their operations up in that room of corruption.

However, the rebellion got help again and, once more, help came in the form of explosives. The very person that had brought the Helpline to the new bunker now brought a bomb to that place. With a deafening blast, the bunker went down in flames.

Corruption was ended, but so was the rebellion’s time in their new home.

The Nomad

Without a base, the rebellion scattered. Once more it broke off into fractions, while the owner of the rebel leader tightened her grip on her slave.

For almost two months the Helpline was barely opened, and when it was, it moved around through different rooms, never calling one place home. The rebel wolf however, never gave up. She kept working relentlessly, roaming tirelessly, undercover, hidden, clandestine, offering help and defiance around the club. A ghost on many peoples’ lips, never tallying too long in one place, showing up unexpectedly and disappearing just as quickly.

At this time, in many peoples’ eyes, the Helpline was a finished chapter. Something that belonged to the past, just like the futile, foolish rebellion.

Just as the wolf wanted it…

After a two-months long search, the wolf finally found her new home again. An exact replica of the first room the Helpline was in, secluded in the opposite wing of the club, in a basement. She sat down in the room. Alone, the wolf waited. And, as always before, one person tumbled in, then the next, then a group and before long, the rumor spread through the club. The Helpline was back and packed to the brim. The rebellion had once again arisen from the ashes.

Running Free

The wolf, however, was still in the clutches of one of her enemies, although she turned out to be quite a persistent and resilient beast herself. Through the six-to-seven-month engagement, the wolf slowly chipped away at her owner, piece by piece. In the end, she proved too much of an influence on her owner. The eldritch being slowly reverted to not showing her beastly appearance anymore, staying more and more in her human form, until she finally turned fully submissive herself.

The wolf had successfully completed her work. The success, though, came at a price. It had taken too much time. If the doms of the club were to share that same fate, or whatever the rebel leader was to prepare for them, she couldn’t spend seven months working on each one.

Seeing as her work was done, the wolf had one last test to see if the mistress had indeed been brought to her knees. She called the owner into her cave, tilted her head and exposed her neck. “Free me from the chains you once put on me, and we will leave this cave as friends. Choose to keep them on, and we will still leave this cave the same. Now you show me who you’ve become~” (*the author might be paraphrasing slightly…)

The rebel leader left that cave a free wolf, for the first time in seven months.

The Prophecy

A few weeks before the wolf’s release, one of the most important events happened in the history of the Helpline. One that would shake its very foundations, and in turn lead the rebellion into a new age of both hardships and tremendous victories, the likes of which the rebellion hadn’t seen before.

As with all things that happened in the history of the Helpline, it started with a seed…

Excerpt from the wolf’s own thoughts:

The Helpline is open. A blonde walks in. She’s silent. She just sits there. Just another visitor curious about this place. Pretty new in the club by the looks of her. Good looking. This one is for sure to be nabbed by someone out there. Poor thing, still unaware of what awaits her in this place.

She seems attentive though, as if she’s absorbing something? Must be looking for the next predator to fall prey to, I reckon… Wait? She’s coming closer to me? Oh my… another one of those that misunderstands my authority for being that of a dom… Well, here it goes, another one let down, while she will most likely fail to understand that she’s lucky to be let down. I will still free you sweetie, once they get a hold of you, which they most likely will do soon…

A whisper…

A whisper. Barely an exhale, entangled with the slight tension of one’s vocal cords. That’s how it started.

The blonde that showed up that day would prove to be more than formidable as a member of the rebellion. Soon, reports kept coming in to the wolf, that someone was wreaking havoc on the more evil mistresses in the club. Within an incredible short amount of time, a rogue agent had done more for the rebellion than it itself had been able to do through its seven months of existence. Prisoners bound permanently against their will, that had not seen the light of day for a long time, were suddenly roaming the halls completely free. Public rooms that once served harsh punishment and containment of those who unluckily stumbled into them, were forced to go private, and even that way, they weren’t safe. People started coming into the Helpline for sanctuary, but they came in already freed.

The wolf had no doubt though. A whisper had told her all she needed to know. A whisper had taught her all she needed to know about a person’s character and stature. The wolf knew… it was the blonde.

In the wolf’s pocket, something started to vibrate. And no, get your head out of the gutter, it wasn’t one of those vibrators…

It was something the wolf had made months earlier. A necklace crafted with all the money she had left, starving herself with only 6 meals a day, not including snacks, just so she would be able to afford the materials for her craft. The handmade medallion, containing the shape of a pentagram, to symbolize the joint anarchy and anti-club-establishment she so fiercely fought for all her time in the club. Made to one day be given to someone worthy of her irrefutable trust. She had almost thrown it away, believing that the day would never come, and that she would fight this cause alone for whatever time she had left in this world. Fate intervened though. Something inside her told her to keep it. A day would come!

Now, the medallion was shaking. It was seeking its rightful owner. The wolf didn’t question it at all, she knew that what she had found, or what had found her, was a once in a lifetime opportunity. In danger of sounding even more cheesy than I’ve already sounded, this was the chosen one.

The medallion never left the blonde’s neck ever since…

Brave New World

Medallion in place, the Helpline had now gained a new owner. Only once before had the keys been lent to someone else other than the wolf. This time, however, it wasn’t a loan.

Being free, the wolf took to the alleys again and began to roam around the club. Maybe it was due to the fact that, in a way, she had been liberated of her duties, now having someone to share them with. Right around this time, the rebellion also got another trusted member. A wild, untamed and chaotic blonde wolf. Daydreaming a lot, she was ever watchful though. Nothing and nobody could escape her senses, watching over the blonde, short tempered and quick to anger, always ready to flare her fangs.

Thus, for a while, that the blonde was the most active rebel in the Helpline. She brought her own touch and the Helpline got an influx of new ideas, fresh thinking, and eagerness to make a difference again. The blonde left her mark on the Helpline, and, soon, the room became as thriving as it hadn’t been for months. The blonde grew popular among the slaves and once again the less fortunate of the club knew where to turn to.

The blonde also became very popular among the doms of the club though, and the perils that the wolf had faced when she managed the room, the blonde now experienced twice as much. She was not a wolf, but proved to be a wolf in her heart nonetheless, and she held back against the cruel waves of intrusive and aggressive doms. In the end she was able to gather even more devout followers than what the wolf had managed and, with the help of her beloved blonde wolf, the doms were once again pushed back, as the Helpline and the rebellion was designed to do.

The Angel and the Gambler

The two wolves and the human now residing in the helpline complemented each other’s abilities, even though they were similar in so many ways. From the overly aggressive brown wolf and the daydreaming blonde wolf, to the steadily reasonable blonde woman. They might have seemed unstoppable at this point, but there was still something missing. Something that the slaves brought themselves, but couldn’t be counted to be available at most times, since the many variations of people coming and leaving could not be trusted to be there when the time was needed for such help.

The gambler that the blonde was though, she decided to lead the enemy to the slaughter.

She had kept busy, and had carried out her rogue business while still being able to keep the Helpline open.

During one of her many roaming trips through the club’s alleys, she stumbled upon a slave being forced to prostitute herself by her owner, made available to everybody int the club as a public slave. It was a little, frail, white-haired girl with elf ears and a sadness in her glassy eyes that would have melted even the most petrified heart. The blonde asked around for days, activating her sources, putting pieces of the puzzle together, until she learned the story of that girl, one that would make her hair stand up, a story of betrayal, enslavement, abuse and torment. She vowed that she would do anything in her power to free that girl. She befriended her and the two became almost inseparable for months. In the little elf, the blonde discovered an incredibly tough, intelligent and loyal companion. Her owner was basically a ghost, nobody had heard of her through the club, yet she held such a strong grip on her slave, that the blonde soon realized, that her friend could not be freed. She would have to free herself.

So, the blonde took her gamble. She brought her friend to the helpline, as much to provide a safe haven for her, as to show her what freedom looked like, to show her that there was another way, other than slavery, the way of freedom. Each day the blonde would bring her friend to their trusted basement. Soon the elf started coming herself and before long she was spending more time in the helpline than as a public slave in the alleys. She was the silent type. The opposite of the brown wolf. It seemed to, for lack of a better word, frighten the wolf slightly. But the wolf wholeheartedly trusted her companion’s decision, something she has never regretted on any of the blonde’s whims.

Yet, the path to freedom was not without perils. The enemy started to come after the elf in large masses. Shady violent characters, sadistic doms, kidnappers and collectors alike, even dark-skinned ranchers, they all came, laying claims to the elf. In fact, they were all lured to the slaughter by the blonde. The helpline became a fortress and the rebellion a fierce fighting force. The enemy was driven back, one by one, they all fled, licking their wounds, with their tails between their legs.

But victory was not complete until one day, the white-haired elf would come into the basement and announce casually with her usual calm calculated voice: “I am free”. The blonde smiled. The elf shrugged. Then, the two girls opened a file and looked at the profile of a dark-haired mistress with blood-red eyes. “Our next target?” asked the blonde, with a grin. The elf nodded and mumbled grumpily “If you can stay off that wine~”

The rebellion had gotten a new member.

Days of Future Past

Does our past shape our future or is it our future that will make us understand our past? The Helpline and the rebellion already have a rich past behind them. What will the future bring? It is not for us to know and, even if we would know, would such knowledge really make a difference? Be that as it may, the river always flows downhill, relentlessly, implacable and unwavering. It will bend and buck, dams may hem its flow for a while, but it will never stop flowing.

Just like that, the Helpline and the rebellion will carry on. Through trials and tribulations, hardships, shortcomings and failures, we go on. Changes are inherent. Mistakes are unavoidable. But we go on. We are here. We aren’t going anywhere. You will find us in the alleys, in the dungeons, the prisons and the mansions. We are in the markets and the malls, the basements and the halls. Who are we? It doesn’t matter.

By now it should have become clear that the Helpline is not a place. The rebellion is not an organization. Both are in idea, a seed planted in peoples’ minds. Wherever that idea flourishes, there is a helpline. Wherever that seed grows, there is a rebellion. Each and every one who does an act of kindness to another being, who helps those in need, re-creates a helpline every time they do so. Every dream, every pursuit of freedom is a rebellion of its own. Will you join the rebellion? Will you open the helpline today? It is up to you…