Accidentally On-Purpose Pt. 05

Then there were the ones who didn't speak at all, like the enormous bear-like man in a very expensive suit with the hairiest thumbs she had ever seen in her life, who just held his phone in front of her face, took a photo, then turned and walked off. Ooooo-kay.

The creepiest by far was a woman. She, too, was wearing a stupid expensive suit, obviously Hugo Boss-inspired and just as obviously custom tailored, seemed taller than she probably was, white, blonde, cheekbones you could slice meat with, bright emerald-green eyes (had to be contact lenses) that matched the enormous emerald around her neck. She was followed at a respectful distance by a genuinely tall and broad white woman wearing a dark suit and a cap — a chauffeur, Michelle guessed. The boss lady inspected every inch of Michelle's body, from the soles of her feet and in-between her toes to her anus to her clean-shaven vagina to her small nipples to her armpits and finally her mouth, including her teeth and tongue. She even shined a light down Michelle's throat.

The woman ran a leather-gloved hand (it's summertime in Texas, Michelle thought, and she's wearing leather gloves for fuck's sake) down the side of Michelle's face, asking "Have you been trained, my dear?" Michelle, still unable to speak, just shook her head. "All the better" she purred, and pulled out a large rubber wedge, like a doorstop, and jammed it into Michelle's mouth. Then she grabbed each of Michelle's nipples between her thumb and second knuckle of her forefinger and began to slowly pinch them — no, Michelle thought, more like a pair of clamps slowly ratcheting down, the woman was incredibly strong. At first it hurt, but the pain quickly became intense and then unbearable; Michelle tried to scream, but was muffled by the wedge so all that came out was a "Mmmmmmm!" The whole time, the woman was looking Michelle right in the eye, her head moving very subtly side-to-side, like a cobra sizing up a mouse.

Finally, as Michelle tried to pull away, shaking her chest as hard as she could in her position, the woman released her, pried the wedge out of Michelle's aching mouth (inspecting her teeth marks in the rubber with a raised eyebrow), gave her a delicate pat on the cheek, and walked away without another word. At no point during the entire encounter did the woman's expression change. Michelle wondered if she had just met a real-life vampire.

At one point she spotted Kiara, hovering around the periphery of the inspection area. When an opening appeared in the crowd of buyers, she walked nonchalantly over and pretended to inspect Michelle's restraints.

"We're working on it," Kiara murmured. "We got supervisor access to the system - you don't want to know how - and the plan is to move you right after inspection. So be as cool as you can and it will all be over before you know it." Kiara looked Michelle in the eye and said, "I'm very sorry about this, everything that could go wrong did go wrong." Kiara slid a hand over Michelle's and squeezed it briefly.

Michelle grimaced. "I knew the risks," she whispered. Kiara nodded; "Still, I''m sorry," she said and, with an almost comically exaggerated nonchalance, walked away.

The dual nature of her friend's deep concern and casual behavior was both frightening and, well, exciting. Her friends would try to help her, but if they could not do it safely, would they watch impassively as she was sold off the block, joking with each other as they checked their phones for texts while Michele's freedom slipped away? And more importantly, why did the thought, the possibility, of being sold excite her? The idea of actually being someone's slave for the rest of her life did not excite her — the exact opposite, actually — but being treated like a piece of meat, her value determined not by her grades or her test scores but the tightness of her ass and the wetness of her pussy? Oh yes, it gave her a little thrill and she wasn't sure why.

Then the thing Michelle feared the most happened: she spotted Obregón.

Michelle looked at him, her eyes wide. He looked exactly the same as last time: double-breasted suit, balding, hair slicked back, slightly hooded eyes, no expression. Though he was some distance away, near the edge of the inspection area, he had clearly seen her since he kept gesturing at her while he consulted with his assistant (James, she remembered) and they looked at the screen on James' laptop. At one point he looked up from the screen directly at her, his eyes meeting hers for a long minute, his expressionless face betraying nothing. Finally he looked back at James and nodded, and the two moved out of her sight.

Eventually the hour was up, Walt came to get her, and she and Zim were led back to their cage. They had to pause partway when Michelle suddenly vomited onto the floor.

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Michelle and Zim sat side-by-side on the bench in the small processing cage.

"So how was it?" Zim asked.

"I was groped by creeps and assaulted by psychos but otherwise fine," Michelle replied. "You?"

Zim laughed. "About the same, except that I knew some of the creeps personally. Pretty sure The Dollhouse is gonna buy my contract, which wouldn't be so bad. Manny, the GM, and I go way back. I could do two years there."

"I have no idea what's happening to me," Michelle said with a sigh. "We're up for auction next, right?"

"Oh yeah, this was the last step before the block."

"I figured" Michelle said.

"Well, it's no big deal, really. You just go up there, do what the auctioneer tells you to do when he tells you to do it, and you'll be fine. He might snap the whip just to scare you, but there's no way he's seriously marking up a Prime in front of professional buyers, so don't let it upset you. You made it through inspection, even if your supper didn't, so you'll make it through auction."

Michelle sniffled, and a tear rolled down one cheek. She was standing on the edge of a cliff, and if her squad didn't come for her soon she was going to go over: she was actually going to be sold. Possession being the basis of the law (not to mention the slave economy), it wouldn't matter if she was sold in error under a false SRN, she would be someone's property for the rest of her life.

"Zim, I'm scared," she said.

Zim sat up straight, turned her upper body and looked at her for a long moment. "We're all scared, honey. Every last one of us, including me. But this is the world we live in, and there's nothing we can do about that. All we can do is control how we handle it."

Michelle looked at Zim, and saw on her strong face a look of genuine compassion - the first one she'd seen all day. "How do you do it, Zim? How do you just roll with the punches?"

Zim put her left foot on top of Michelle's right foot — Michelle was surprised by how comforting she found that little gesture — and continued: "Because I made up my mind to 'roll with the punches' a long time ago. I remind myself constantly that it won't be so bad as long as I keep my cool and think." Zim sighed: "Oh God, I forget how young your are. The truth is that chicas like you and me are not going to be scrubbing toilets, we're gonna be pleasure slaves, and that comes with some advantages if you know how to work it, and it also tells you some things about how you're gonna be treated. You just have to keep your wits about you and see the possibilities."

Zim abruptly stopped talking when both women heard the electronic lock on the door click open. They turned in time to see Big Ed standing in the doorway, smiling like a crocodile.

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"If it isn't the newwwww girrrrrrrrl," Ed mocked, "and her little friend the goth greaser." He stepped into the cage, grabbed Michelle by her collar ring and pulled her to her feet. "Come on, you've got somewhere to be."

Ed dragged her out into the corridor where Mike was waiting, grinning from ear to ear as he lowered a hand truck carrying a transit cage. "Hello again," he said, snickering.

"Get your pretty little ass down and into that cage," Ed said.

Michelle looked up at him, and said "You can't do this—"

Ed suddenly grabbed her earlobe and twisted it. Michelle cried out from the intense, unexpected pain, and when she did Ed used his other hand to slap a gag into her mouth. Michelle coughed and literally gagged, but couldn't make any intelligible speech - she was silenced.

Mike laughed, and as Ed buckled the gag straps tightly behind Michelle's head he looked over and said "Seen and not heard, that's my policy." He looked back at Michelle. "Now get into that cage," he said, still smiling but with a trace of menace in his voice.

Michelle dutifully fell to her knees and started backing into the small wire cage. She'd seen it done often enough that she managed it without too much difficulty. She looked up from inside the cage, at Ed as he closed the little door, then at Mike as he slid the forks of the hand truck back underneath the transit crate, and she felt a little flutter, down below her belly.

"I am well and truly fucked," she thought. "This is not even remotely what I wanted. Here I am, naked in a cage, powerless to do anything — I can't even call out for help. They're going to take me somewhere and make me a sex toy for the entire warehouse department; I've seen the size of Ed's cock, if I have to fuck that he'll split me in half."

Ed walked around to the back of the little cage and squatted down to examine Michelle's exposed ass, probing with calloused fingers. "Tight as can be," he said, before moving down to her vagina; "And wet! Well ain't that somethin', our little intake clerk is excited like a good little slut." Ed and Mike laughed as Michelle bit down hard on the leather gag.

"What was it Zim said last night?" Michelle thought. "Have I ever been turned on since I became a slave? I said yes, and that was true then, when I was with Zim, but why the hell am I turned on now?"

Michelle looked out the tiny door of her transit crate, back through the big door of the processing cage at Zim, who looked back at her with an expression of surprise mixed with horror.

"What about her?" Mike asked, following Michelle's gaze to Zim.

"She'll be gone in an hour, what's she gonna do?" Ed said, "Nothin', that's what. And anyways, no one listens to a slave."

Mike nodded, pumped up the hydraulic arm on the hand truck, and the two men wheeled their captive toward the cage maze exit. The last thing Michelle saw as she left Auction Ops was a camera on the ceiling, its red light glowing steadily.

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Mike wheeled the cart carrying Michelle through the hallways into the Wholesale section, Ed following behind him, whistling.

They wheeled her past the holding pens for the wholesale slaves, crowded with the liquidation inventory, the dejected women watching without interest as the little Asian girl in the tiny cage rolled past.

Next she passed the Intake section; deserted on weekends, she could see her work station — "Intake 2" — across the floor.

They rolled past the processing sections, the break room, the slave wash, the quarantine cells, into a section in the back that was unfamiliar to Michelle, ending in a locked door: Ed opened it and she entered what looked like another storage room, piled with boxes and broken crates.

The knot in Michelle's stomach was as hard as a rock now. "So this is it," she thought. "First I lose my lesbian virginity to a stripper in a slave cage, and then I lose my straight virginity to a pair of apes in a storage room." She shuddered. "A pair if I'm lucky," she thought.

The most infuriating part was that her vagina had not stopped lubricating at any point — on the contrary, it was starting to trickle down the inside of one thigh.

She went over her thoughts and emotions, trying to suss out what was going on. "As far as I can tell," she thought, "I'm turned on by the lack of control, that decisions are made for me and not by me: I'm going to be ordered to perform a number of sex acts, and I will have no choice but to obey, just like a good little slut. And even if it's awful, the idea still turns me on."

"And what the hell was that when I crawled into the crate?" Michelle asked herself. "Excitement? Anticipation? Submission?" Michelle blinked a few times, and continued: "Being forced to my knees in front of Ed, looking up at him, naked and defenseless, him grinning at my displayed body, remembering what he had done to that punishment slave..."

She shuddered again. "Mike is an asshole, but he's actually kind of cute. Ed, definitely not, but he's as big as Billy which is kinda hot, and I've already seen his penis, which will take a real effort to wrap my mouth around, which is... also kinda hot." She paused, considering her immediate future. "I wonder if they'll take a video?"

Michelle felt another trickle start to run down her thigh, and sighed. "Is it the humiliation?"

Mike lowered the crate in the center of the room. Ed walked over to the far side of the room and pushed some boxes to one side, revealing a fire exit door. Michelle couldn't recall any similar exits in the building (no, that's not right — there is one in the employee cafeteria); slave markets were often either given lots of safety code variances or outright exempted, much like prisons used to be.

Ed opened the wide exit door. No alarm went off. "That's not good," Michelle thought.

Through the open door she could see a plain white cargo van backed up to the fire exit door. The rear doors of the van opened and a lean, muscled man in a tight shirt got out and deployed a rolling ramp to the top of the steps leading up to the fire door.

"Oh, shit," she thought, recognizing James the assistant. Michelle started to hyperventilate before willing herself to calm down.

The door from the hallway opened, and in walked Mister Obregón.

Obregón walked over to Ed without so much as a glance at the crate containing Michelle, and the two conversed briefly in low voices. Obregón reached into his suit coat and pulled out an envelope, which he handed to Ed, who opened it and counted out the cash inside. When he finished, Ed smiled and he shook hands with Obregón.

Ed walked over to Mike and handed him some bills from the envelope, then he squatted down next to Michelle in her cage.

"Well new girl, guess I'm never going to have to learn your name," he said. "I still don't understand how you wound up in a collar, but it don't matter none now, I'll make sure you disappear right off the books and no one will be the wiser, including that Nazi bitch boss of yours." Ed chuckled at the thought. "I sure would have liked to try out your sweet little pussy, and your tight yella ass looks like it coulda come off an angel."

Ed stood up. "But come to think of it, I still might get to give it a test drive. I'm sure once you get to your new home, Mr. Obregón will let me reserve a slot with your slot." He laughed at his own wit, looking to his right at Mike.

"A slot with your slot, good one," Mike chuckled.

"Be seein' you real soon, little new girl," Ed said.

Turning to Mike, he said "Let's get her loaded."

Michelle glanced at Obregón. The entire time he had not said a word, and his expression remained unchanged, impassive; he watched the three men load Michelle's crate into the van, then abruptly turned and left the room.