Accidentally On-Purpose Pt. 01

Part one of a multi-part story about a young woman working as an intern at a slave market. It is set in the same world, city, and place as my previous series Three Sisters so it may be helpful to read that first. Note that this story contains bondage, slavery, moderate physical harm, non-consensual sexual submission, and a character's struggle to come to terms with it. All characters are at least 18 years of age.

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Michelle Tran was 19 years old, a high school graduate with a 4.1 GPA, a swimming team medallist, a dance corps captain, an honor society member, and hoping to get into the same college as her wealthy and successful parents.

Michelle sat on the big fluffy bed in her childhood bedroom, smoldering with resentment and embarrassment (a less charitable interpretation might be "pouting") lingering from last night. A slender young Asian-American woman in excellent physical condition, average height for an American but taller than an Asian, with shoulder-length black hair pulled back in a ponytail, full lips, light unblemished skin, manicured nails, well-toned legs, and small but nicely proportional breasts, she wore running shorts, a t-shirt from her high school, and ankle socks because she was too mortified to get up and get dressed properly. Michelle was grimly typing on her laptop when her phone chirped, and she rolled off the bed to get it: her best friend Lena was initiating a video call.

"What up boo?" Lena (Yelena) said, smiling at Michelle from her own bedroom. Lena's parents were from Ukraine (what was left of it) and much wealthier than Michelle's parents, so Lena's room looked like a leafy safari camp, complete with exotic animals: Lena was cradling her current favorite, a tiny Central American sloth named Oswald.

"Hey Lena." Michelle replied. "Hi Oswald." The sloth recognized her voice, raising his head and smiling.

"So what happened? I just heard, and I want to know everything," Lena asked, "no detail too small."

Michelle sighed. "Dad's friend at Stanford reviewed my application, and I didn't have enough points to make the cut. She said a non-school-related extracurricular activity would put me over the top. So Mom wanted me to work in her clinic for the summer, which would be fine and easy-breezy, but Dad said no it couldn't be at a place connected to my parents, it had to be somewhere else."

"Well that's BS" said Lena.

"Yeah, that's what I said. What, am I supposed to work at a fast food place, mopping toilets or something?" Michelle rolled her eyes, and Lena giggled. "No, Dad said, I can get you somewhere interesting that will stand out on your application and you can write an essay about working there and they won't be able to turn you down."

"So embarrassing" Lena said. "Where does he want you to go?"

"Okay, get this" Michelle said, then switched her voice to a comically pompous version of her father's: "I played golf with Gene Hastings, the general manager of HCI Houston and we discussed how even a fairly modest period of being around involuntary servitude can completely change a young woman's outlook on life, so he generously offered to give you an internship at HCI."

"Seriously?" Lena gasped. "The slave auction place?"

"Yes, that one. What a bunch of BS."

Lena made a face. "Sounds like you're pushing a mop this summer one way or another. What are you going to do?"

Michelle shrugged. "Well, he said that if I did this, that he would let me go to Europe for a couple of weeks before school starts, so I said fine, whatever. I'm filling out the paperwork right now, I start Monday."

"I'm so sorry sweetie" Lena said. "Hey, I know what would cheer you up! You wanna go shopping after you're done? We could get lunch at Opal's and maybe run into Jason? Would you like that?"

"Stop it, you..." Michelle said, blushing slightly, and Lena started laughing, but then she sighed and said "Yeah, actually that would be nice. Pick you up in an hour?"

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Monday morning, 7 AM (an hour which should not exist), and Michelle Tran is standing outside a metal door labeled "EMPLOYEES ONLY" in the rear of the enormous HCI complex. Wearing a nice top and skirt, she had decided to dress "up" even though she'd be working in what is, effectively, a combination of a warehouse and a zoo. Yawning, she texted a waving emoji to a number, and the door opened.

A young white woman with a blonde ponytail greeted her. "You must be Michelle? Hi, I'm Sandra and before you ask Yes, everyone calls me Sandy. I'll be showing you around today, and after that I think we're working together in the Intake section. C'mon in" she said, and pulled the door wide open.

Michelle found herself in a hallway, with openings to locker rooms on one side and doors to offices on the other. Sandy led her to the female locker room and to her locker, where a bundle of clothes awaited her. "First things first! HCI standard uniform, polo shirts and khaki pants, and steel-toed boots - safety regulations. Also, here are some earplugs to keep in your pocket - the trucking bays can get super noisy. You can open and close the locker with your phone, instructions over there" she pointed at a poster on the wall. "I'll wait for you outside."

Moments later Michelle emerged, dressed identically to Sandy in a navy blue polo shirt with the HCI logo embroidered above the left breast, khaki work pants, and heavy boots that actually fit her feet - she guessed HCI really did pay attention to the paperwork she filled in. Sandy handed her an elastic band ("Sorry, safety rules again") and Michelle pulled her hair into a ponytail like Sandy's.

"You've got orientation at 9am in HR, so for now how about a tour?" Sandy said.

Michelle shrugged; "Sure."

They walked out of the long hallway, out into a high-ceilinged cavernous space — it reminded Michelle of an airplane hangar, but bigger — and Sandy showed her around: the receiving dock, the loading dock, the large pens in the "Wholesale" section ("Wholesale is where we send slaves graded as domestics — we really don't sell labor slaves here — and they sometimes get sold in lots" Sandy explained), the individual "Hold" pens, the large dormitory-like "Overnight" pens, the "Clean-Up" area ("Primes come here to get a made over before inspection"), the smaller cage-like pens in "Retail" ("This is where the Primes go, they're always sold individually"), and finally the long counter and collection of standing desks that comprised the "Intake" processing section.

Sandy was showing Michelle how to check out a data pad from the charging rack when a woman walked up to them and introduced herself to Michelle: "Good morning, you must be our new intern. My name is Steiner, and I will be your manager." Michelle saw a pale, trim, medium-height, woman with long red hair gathered in a very ornate hair clip and no makeup. She wore a maroon blazer and a dark skirt with close-toed shoes and a name tag that read "Hannah" and below that "Intake."

"Welcome to HCI," she said, and extended her hand. Michelle shook it: "Thank you, I'm happy to be here, um, ma'am."

"Yes, we will see about that. And you may call me Ms. Steiner" she replied. "You will be assisting Miss Preston, here, with Intake; you will start off with individuals before moving on to groups. You will secure the slave while Miss Preston supervises, and Miss Preston will enter their information while you observe. Do you have any experience applying restraints?"

"Um, no — uh, ma'am, I don't" Michelle replied. Ms. Steiner nodded and led her two subordinates to one of the standing desks, and took a small box from a shelf underneath. "At each intake station is a box with standard restraints. At a minimum, two things must be done to each new inductee: One, they must have their hands handcuffed behind their backs — this is non-negotiable — and two, they must have an HCI black collar affixed around their necks." Ms. Steiner drew a pair of handcuffs and a scuffed-up black collar from the box and set it on the counter. "The handcuffs all use a standard mechanical key — Miss Preston will make sure you get one — while the collars are controlled by electromagnets and once activated need an HCI data pad to be released. Let me demonstrate." She turned to Sandy, and said "Miss Preston, collar."

Sandy set her data pad on the desk, then immediately dropped to her knees, tilted her head down and placed one hand on her thigh and the other behind her head, holding her ponytail up and off her neck. Michelle recognized it from her "Introduction to Slavery and Society" class in high school: a command issued to slaves to assume a position so that they may be easily, well, collared. Sandy performed it quickly and well, Michelle thought.

Ms. Steiner stepped behind Sandy and taking the metal collar in one hand she wrapped it around the kneeling woman's neck in a smooth motion, closing it with a "click" ("The clicking noise is how you know it is functioning" Ms. Steiner said), then in a firm voice ordered " up!" Sandy stood, placing her hands by her sides. Hannah efficiently snapped a handcuff around one wrist then pulled it over to capture the other, showing Michelle how to test that they were locked, not too loose and not too tight, and how to make them safe so that they cannot be tightened further. The entire time, Sandy stood, unmoving, looking straight ahead.

Ms. Steiner showed Michelle how to remove the handcuffs and collar, handing them to Michelle. "Now you do it" she said.

Michelle looked at Sandy. "Um, collar?" she said tentatively.

"No, no, say it with authority, Miss Tran. No hesitation, firm in voice and conviction" Ms. Steiner said. "Again."

" Collar " Michelle ordered, a little firmer this time. Sandy dropped back to her knees and assumed the collaring position. Michelle fumbled with the collar a bit, carefully placing it around Sandy's neck with both hands, and eventually hearing it click.

"Less hesitant in future Miss Tran, but repetition is certain to make you more comfortable" Ms. Steiner said. "Now the handcuffs, please."

Michelle ordered "Up!" and fumbled her way through locking Sandy's wrists.

"You forgot to engage the safety mechanism, Miss Tran" Ms. Steiner said. "Such inattention can lead to damage to HCI property and loss of revenue."

"Oh!" Michelle looked down and mumbled "Sorry."

"Please release Miss Preston and hand the restraints to me" Ms. Steiner said.

Michelle did so, and Ms. Steiner asked "Do you know the basic slave handling commands, Miss Tran?"

Michelle remembered the basics from school, but decided to play dumb — Ms. Steiner was making her nervous — so she shook her head.

"You will receive a handbook in orientation today, I expect you to read it carefully and have the commands memorized by tomorrow morning" Ms. Steiner said. "Now turn around."

Michelle was startled. "What?"

"Miss Tran, I am not in the habit of repeating myself. TURN. AROUND." Michelle heard a trace of menace in Ms. Steiner's voice, and she felt butterflies in her stomach: she was a little scared.

Michelle turned around. "On your knees" Ms. Steiner ordered, and Michelle lowered herself down. "Raise your hair" Ms. Steiner ordered, and Michelle lifted her ponytail like Sandy had done.

"I am going to collar you, Miss Tran, so that you will understand what it feels like." Ms. Steiner wrapped the collar around Michelle's neck so quickly she wasn't quite sure what happened until she heard the click.

"Stand up" Ms. Steiner ordered. "Now I am going to handcuff you so that you will also understand what that feels like."

Michelle did not like that idea at all: even fully clothed, she found the idea of being handcuffed inside a slave market very uncomfortable.

But she did so, and Ms. Steiner locked her wrists behind her back.

"Are those too tight?" Ms. Steiner asked, and Michelle shook her head.

"Are you gagged, Miss Tran?"

Michelle started slightly. "Um, no ma'am?"

"Then I expect an answer to my question" Ms. Steiner said. "Now, are those too tight?"

"No ma'am" Michelle answered.

"Notice" she said, "that I have not engaged the safety, so it is entirely possible that they could be accidentally tightened, like so." She took each bracelet in one hand and together ratcheted them down several clicks. Michelle felt the initial pinch that quickly turned into a searing pain.

"Now imagine, Miss Tran" Ms. Steiner said, "That you were in fact gagged, that you had no way to communicate your distress, and that you faced the prospect of several hours in this position?" She ratcheted the cuffs one click tighter, and Michelle gasped.

Ms. Steiner walked around in front of Michelle. "Do you think this might cause some damage to the slave in such a situation?" Ms. Steiner asked.

"Please, Ms. Steiner" Michelle asked, struggling to keep her voice even, "This really hurts!"

"When I release you, Miss Tran, what do you promise to do?"

What? Michelle thought, what does she want me to...

"Always use the safety, Ms. Steiner!" Michelle's hands were on fire, and desperation was creeping into her voice.

"Very good, Miss Tran" Ms. Steiner said, walked back behind her and released the handcuffs. Michelle began rubbing the deep red marks on her wrists as the feeling returned to her hands, and Ms. Steiner removed the collar.

"Miss Tran you may go to your orientation now. Miss Preston, we have intakes scheduled to begin at 10am, please ensure we are ready, starting with the restraints." Ms. Steiner placed the handcuffs and collar on the desk, turned and walked away.

Michelle looked at Sandy, and in a low voice asked "What the hell was that all about?"

Sandy, whose expression gave away nothing, shrugged: "Ms. Steiner is kinda unorthodox, but she is very good at her job. I've found her to be a fair manager, if a little strict." Sandy collected her data pad off the desk and motioned towards a door.

"Now let's get you to orientation" she said.

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An hour later Michelle emerged from orientation with a bunch of manuals and handbooks on her phone and a strong sense of trepidation; maybe this internship was a bad idea?

The big main area was much busier than it had been earlier this morning, and much noisier too. One of the big roller doors in the receiving bay was open, and a group of naked women were being herded from a truck towards the big Wholesale pens.

Michelle saw Sandy over near one of the smaller doors, speaking with a tall black man wearing denim and some sort of military vest with pouches all over it. Sandy motioned her over.

"Michelle, this is Cal" she said, nodding at the tall man. Michelle noticed he had a Taser pistol holstered under one arm, that he was quite handsome with an easy smile, and that he was in very good shape. "You might say Cal is a regular here. We see you, what, every other week?"

Cal smiled and said "If I'm lucky!" He and Sandy laughed.

"Cal, this is Michelle, our summer intern. She just started today." Cal extended a large hand, Michelle took it and her own hand disappeared from sight.

"Pleased to meet you, Michelle" Cal said. "I'm sure you're wondering, and the answer is that I'm a catcher."

"One of the best, in my opinion" Sandy said, smiling at Cal who looked back at her with a smile that was somehow broader than before. "What have you got for us today?" Sandy asked him.

He gestured toward the door, where a gray van was backed in. The trio walked up to it, and Cal opened the double doors. Sandy and Michelle peered inside and saw a naked woman, handcuffed and shackled, wearing a (leather?) hood, chained to a ring on the floor of the van by a crude iron collar with a heavy brass padlock. She had long, dark, wavy hair sticking out from under the hood, light brown skin, wide hips, heavy breasts with large dark nipples, and a little bit of a belly above a thatch of dark pubic hair. She seemed to be shaking a bit; Michelle realized she was probably crying.

"Is she Indian?" Michelle asked. "Like, Subcontinental Indian?"

"Well spotted, noobie" replied Cal. "She is in fact from India, Mumbai I believe? At least that's where she was headed when I caught her." Cal climbed into the van and started unlocking the woman. "Her husband took out involuntary papers on her, and she tried to leave the country to avoid enslavement, so he hired me. I actually got her in the airport parking lot." He laughed and held up his left arm. "Man, did she put up a fight!" Michelle squinted into the semi-darkness of the van and saw bloody scratch marks on Cal's forearm, and —

"Is that a bite mark?" Sandy exclaimed.

Cal laughed again. "Yes indeed. So you better watch out!" He removed the heavy collar and dropped it with a thunk to the plywood-covered floor of the van, then picked up something that looked like another iron collar on the end of a pole. He latched the collar closed around the woman's neck, took the pole in both hands and ordered "On your feet!" The woman didn't move, so Cal used the pole as a lever and brought her to her knees. "You can stand and walk out of this van, or I can drag you out by your neck. Your choice." The woman hesitated briefly, then staggered to her feet. Cal guided her slowly out of the van and onto the concrete floor of the receiving dock.

"She speaks English, but starts to have problems with it when she's excited" Cal explained. "Here, hold this" he said to Michelle, and handed her the pole attached to the woman's collar. Michelle took it with some reluctance — what if she tried to get away again? She tucked the end of the pole under her arm and gripped the shaft tightly with both hands, her knuckles turning white.

Cal and Sandy were looking at her data pad when he glanced back over at Michelle, then walked over to her and placed his hands on top of hers. "Relax" he told her. "You have the leverage, not her. Let the pole do the work." Michelle visibly relaxed, and Cal patted her on the shoulder. "There you go. Now you can tell your friends you've used a catch pole."

Cal returned to Sandy, and they did some data entry on her pad. Michelle watched the woman under her control — "Under my control!" she thought — and noticed that she was shivering, even though it was a typical hot Texas summer day; "Is she sick?" Michelle wondered, "Or is she just terrified?"

Sandy came over, carrying restraints. "First," she said to Michelle, "We put our cuffs on her so that Cal can take his off. Second, we put our collar on before we remove the hood — it's safer for us that way. Third, we take off the hood. Fourth, we release her from the pole." Sandy began dealing with the restraints, standing to one side so Michelle could see what she was doing. After she took off the hood she walked in front of the woman: "Can you understand me?" she said.

The woman apparently said nothing — Michelle could only see the back of her head, noting that her hair was wildly askew. "I need you to speak to me" Sandy told the woman.

"Y-yes" she said, voice quavering.

"Good" Sandy replied. "You are at the Houston, Texas location of HCI Incorporated. You are here for processing as a slave. I am required by law to tell you that the collar you are wearing can deliver a powerful and extremely painful electric shock if you attempt to leave this building without permission. Additionally, all HCI employees are authorized to use any means deemed necessary to compel you to comply with all orders given to you, and those means include electrical shock and whipping. If you follow my instructions you will not be hurt. Do you understand?"

The woman swallowed hard, inhaled and exhaled heavily, then said "Yes, I do."

"Michelle, you'll find that spiel in the Intake Handbook" Sandy said. "Let's go ahead and release the catch pole." Sandy opened the catch on the front, Michelle eased it off the woman's neck, and handed the pole to the waiting Cal.