Capture Team Pt. 01: Pieces in Play

"Debutant! Damn!" Felicity muttered, "I had to stand nude for the photos. What was my problem doing a nude film for money?"

I nodded understanding as I inspected the photos, taken when she gave her indenture to secure the debt. I entered her status as a repossessed.

"Congratulations," I dryly informed her, "Officially, you are no longer at liberty. You are now an indentured servant."

Coughing as directed, Felicity turned her head when she heard Jenny snap the latex gloves. "Face forward," Jenny ordered. Wiggling her thumb into Felicity's rectum, Jenny suggested, "Where did you meet this eh--director who offered to make you a porn queen?"

"Out clubbing," Felicity choked as she reported, "I saw him again last night right before you guys picked me up. I'd show you his card. He gave me a flyer. They're in my purse. Heck, if I listened to him, I'd have had the money to pay the bill."

Jenny winked at me. "Ok, Sweetie, turn around, face me." Upon compliance, Jenny, drawing her `Ah stick' from a pocket in her white lab coat, requested, "open up your mouth and stick your tongue out and twirl it round-and-round." Felicity turned red when Jenny cracked, "Not much boob to lift up. Your goosebumps are bigger than your boobs, Sweetie. Cup B." Turning to me, Jenny took cognizance, "Jane, you're cup B, about the same build, aren't you? Do you think men would drool to watch your boobs bounce?"

"Depends," Felicity explained, "They need extras for various types of scenes, convent school dorms, communal shower, prison intake."

"Sounds like you seriously considered the prospect?" Jenny suggested.

"The money the man offered was good," Felicity admitted, "You couldn't make that much in a month flipping burgers and physical eh--sexual contact was simulated."

"Ok," Jenny directed, "Raise your arms, Sweetie. Reach for the sky. I need to give you a quick mammary exam.".

"I forgot to mention how much they'd have paid me for a medical exam scene for a eh--doctor to feel me up," Felicity grunted as Jenny massaged Felicity's chest and teased Felicity's nipples. "Had enough jollies?" Felicity snarled as Jenny completed. "Can I lower my arms now?"

At Jenny's insistence, I retrieved a syringe from the examination room. "Now that your indentured servitude has commenced, we need to insert chips into fleshy areas of the body, the left breast and butt. It emits a signal so that you can be located, if you happen to stray. Marvels of technology, the transmitter is no bigger than a grain of sand. Implanting a microchip is simple, easy and painless--for the most part, but removing it may require a mastectomy."

"If the cost of freedom is losing your boobs," I chuckled, "most gals will keep their boobs rather than becoming a freewoman boobless."

"What is freedom?" Jenny sighed as she tapped Felicity's butt to signal her to turn around and bend over with hands on knees, "If I could obtain it what would I do with it?"

Wincing as the needle pierced her rump, Felicity griped, "Star in a pawn show." Rubbing her rump, Felicity given permission to right herself asked, "Where do you chip guys?"

"Scrotum or nut sac, corpora cavernosa or the shaft, glans or the tip as well as the rump," When Jenny's offer to show Felicity an atomical chart was rejected with a wrinkled nose, Jenny snickered, "You'll make a fine addition to the hen house."

"Do I at least get my clothes back, now that you've stretched and wrinkled them? Felicity demanded.

Sneaking a wink at me, Jenny told her, "You'll have a lot to cackle about with the other chick -- a -- dees, but first face me, hands at your sides, smile for the camera."

"Damn!" Felicity cussed. "I could have been paid for my photographs." Having turned right and left for profiles, Felicity asked, "Are we done, yet?"

"One last photo," Jenny ordered, "We need you to turn the other cheeks. Back to the camera. We need a photo of that puffy butt."

After photography, Felicity demanded to know why she was requested to squat and pee into a cup. "Oh," Jenny reminded her, "nothing weird, just a pregnancy test. You may recall your instructions to avoid intercourse."

Handing over the cup, Felicity inquired, "anything else?"

"Just another small ritual," Jenny replied.

Earlier, discussing the disposition of our personnel, Jenny suggested one of the reasons for Elm's selection to spy on the detainees was that she was new and didn't talk like a cop. Hugging me Jenny assured me, "Elm's ability to chat up detainees, hmm. That may be -- in part -- what I'm counting on. Resolving the puzzle is a matter of placing all the pieces in the right spot. Let's shower the road grime off our bodies."

"Bathing," I chided Jenny, "a ritual to signify change."

Cuddling with me in her private shower upstairs, Jenny cautioned, "in this work, dear sister, it's the choices, in their plight, through teary wisps, indenture voices promises trite, payments missed, in oversight, declared default, all property forfeit, the Institute rejoices."

I chuckled, "Jenny you fall into sing -- song when you want to preach. To retain your liberty, is a choice. Live within your means if you wish to remain free. Is that what you intended to teach?"

"Choice?" my twin sister Jenny had expounded when she confronted me in my college dorm room a couple years ago. "It comes down to a simple matter of choice. There are good ones and bad ones. Father made some bad choices. Why should his bad choices become yours? Volunteer for an indenture -- Seven years, come out with a lump of money, preference in retention by the Institute or wait till you're taken -- seven years -- off to the auction -- no reward at end of your term and Father would have wasted the money which should go to you."

"And if I don't volunteer, you?" I asked, "you, my dear twin, would be the one would perform the body execution; you would seize my person?"

"Jane, I'd seize your person, your jewellery, your clothes, your car and your favorite stuffed animal," Jenny warned me, "An indenture in security services has many benefits which come with an obligation to perform unpleasant duties. Would you like to walk in to volunteer or get cuffed and dragged in a naked subject repossessed in a body execution?"

During pre-roundup tour of the basement inspecting the empty male holding pen, the bull pen, across from the female's hen house. "I'll get Mary to clean this cage before we start hauling in tonight's load of body executions," Jenny shuddered, "Ugh, how I hate filth!"

"Hmm, Mary?" I asked, "It won't be easy for her to accept reduction to the ranks."

"The Institute gave her a choice: reduction and insemination or the auction," Jenny noted, "She was given the choice. Other members of that crew weren't so lucky. They went head shaved naked to the auction. They couldn't explain how their leader eh -- Lieutenant Bernie ran away with," Jenny shook her head, "a repossessed indenturee." With an ironic forced smile, Jenny added, "Other than losing the leader and one indenturee the mission in River City was a smashing success."

"What the Institute grants," I replied, "it can always take away."

"Did I not just speak those very words," Jenny, glancing at naked Elm forlorn holding the bars of her cage, turned to me with a gritty smile. "Seems you learned to be gutsy, as tough as me when you need to be."

On our arrival in River City, Jenny had uttered those words when she selected Elm for a demonstration of the intake search procedure of indenturees. I was surprised. To prove I was accorded no preferential treatment, I usually drew these least desirable tasks. When Elm was selected, I breathed a sigh of relief, but only for a few seconds.

Forced to yield pocket change, chic jewellery and business suit she had claimed from repossessed apparel of indenturees, Elm, ordered to turn around and bend over for internal inspection, grunted, "I'm on my period."

"Your period!" I released an exasperated sigh, "My lucky day!" Balancing myself with a hand firmly grasping Elm's shoulder, I reached under Elm's goochie to pluck her tampon out of her vagina. Tossing the tampon into a pail, I growled, "yuck."

Completing the internal exploration, I gave Elm a gentle whack on her puffy butt to prompt her right herself and face me. Standing naked with her hands behind her head, Elm sneered. "It didn't pay to scarf up the best stuff on the table when we were preparing for departure."

"What do you think the businesswoman thought when she removed the suit, folded it carefully and turned it in?" Jenny expounded, "She wasn't merely stripped of clothing, but of an illusion. Naked, she finally realized that whatever benefit the Institute provides, it can always take away."

Having completed the inspection of the holding areas, Jenny asked, "Your plans for tonight?"

"Tonight, Friday night is coed night," I replied, "we've plotted our targets with their vehicles." I sighed. "Since the Institute started offering car loans to coeds with weak credit and extravagant tastes, tracking indenturees has become easier."

"Repossessed coeds are the Institute's most valuable acquisitions," Jenny observed, "Youth, intellect, and beauty make for attractive Surrogates and a healthy balance sheet. The a-traditional married couples, which can't or prefer not to reproduce naturally, pay well. In seven years, an healthy female servant fulfilling her indenture could theoretically be whelped nine times. I suppose," Jenny looked directly in my face to study me, "there's a certain hypocrisy in the profits The Institute reaps, by encouraging coeds to hyperextend themselves."

"In the microworld of a capture team, easy credit works well for our team. We're able to track the debtors through their cars as well as through their phones," I reviewed our procedures, "Catching the coeds alone in their cars is easier than raiding dorm rooms where we might arouse resistance from classmates gathering."

"Oh, the old days, raiding dorms," Jenny recalled as we passed through the open communal shower spigots between male and female holding areas, "Plucking fresh flesh from a care -- free world of individuality into the depersonalized world of servitude." With a sigh, Jenny acknowledged, "Oh, the girls and the guys we repossess had notices which gave them the opportunity to avoid being subject to degradation, humiliation and exposure through the simple relatively painless voluntarily surrender."

I acknowledged, "A voluntary surrender is by no means as fortunate as a voluntary indenture," I chuckled, "I was fortunate to find my twin sister Jenny was the Sergeant of an elite capture team in the Institute's Security Service. Still that idiot doctor friend ran out of my entrance physical, leaving the door open and me naked, legs spread and locked in stirrups fully exposed."

"Good training. Once indentured, your body belongs to the Institute," Jenny chuckled. "The crazy doctor had me strip for an unscheduled exam as if that doc didn't know identical twins come from the same egg. By definition, we are alike. Yet, I did what I had to get you selected."

"I was aghast when you started to undress," I repeated Jenny's words, "`As Sergeant on a Capture team, I wield absolute power over members of my team,' You helped me from the examination table. 'Jane, you can expect no preferential treatment. I guarantee you I will never ask you or any other member of the team to do anything I wouldn't do willingly myself.' The crazy doctor ordered us to stand butt -- to -- butt up against each other on a line in the examination room."

"I pushed you ahead to get you considered," Jenny recounted, "You passed the test on your own." Answering the unvoiced question test formed on my lips, Jenny smiled, "You showed the ability to follow orders -- stupid ones when the Doc decided to compare the curvature of our spines down to the coccyx."

"I bent over. I trembled but I bent over anyway," I recalled, "That Doc wanted to finger fuck us."

"That's what an examination of the tailbone does," Jenny laughed, "Still I lived up to my pledge, no preferential treatment, no order issued that I myself wouldn't comply with. I bent over and was finger fucked too... Doc and I were old friends."

"The `preferential treatment' I received in your team consisted of hard assignments dealing with difficult missions, obstreperous subjects and training exercises playing the combative subject," I growled.

"Ah, wasn't it fun, acting wild, taking the crew by surprise!" Jenny exclaimed.

"I did get pissed," I snorted, "when I had to face the punishment inflicted on a combative subject: held face down, belly shot full of man -- juice from one of the guys and forced to perform an oral on a female, usually you."

"Your sexual preference," Jenny reiterated her usual line, "I preach to all new members on the team," Jenny snickered, "doesn't matter. Working away from the Institute on our own taking in defaulting debtors and runaways, we depend on and belong to each other."

Hugging Jenny, I whispered in her ear, "Is that what you tell yourself when you're sucking up to Captain Tim, when you'd really prefer to do -- eh for example, me?"

With Jenny in her private shower that subject was broached. "Management is not only a skill in putting the right person in the right place," Jenny observed as her hands on my shoulders bade me to turn around. Pressure on my shoulders instructed me to bend over.

"Or," I interjected as her fingers reached between my legs goosed across the ridge called the gouch to locate my vaginal lips, "place a potential interference out of play."

"If you become an officer," Jenny chuckled as her fingers invaded me, "You'll probably make me finger fuck myself and watch you sandwiched between two guys."

"Sounds like a ritual initiation ceremony," I chuckled, "What must I do to be so honored?"

On our pre -- roundup tour of the forward operations center, Jenny and I moved toward the small offices near the entrance to the underground chamber Jenny led me inside her dingy office equipped with a wooden desk and a chair. Once inside, I looked back. Above the doorway, hung computer screens focusing on the basement holding pens, the gate, the reception area, and the rooms upstairs.

I sat down next to Jenny's desk facing Jenny. "I'd like to use this room to interview the indenturees," I suggested. "I could have Logan bring in the suspects one by one." Turning around to look at the screen, "I guess we can have that off when I have a subject in here."

Later, when my team returned with the haul, Jenny stood by in her nursing scrubs while Logan, one by one, escorted the detainees to Jenny's office for interview. Most were sullen. I presented a cheerful approach to them. Many pled not to inform their parents. "Do you know anyone else who might bring your account current?" I'd ask. That drew more tears.

Earlier in the day in that office with Jenny, Jenny with an evil smile, suggested, "Logan, Cliff and Mary are probably in the middle of a bravura performance."

Pulling a remote out of the draw, Jenny focused on the spa upstairs where Mary was in the shower upstairs with young Logan, the newcomer to the team, facing her and season Cliff behind her.

Jenny and I nodded approvingly at the men's sprouting impressive erections. "Ritual induction of Logan into the team," Jenny commented.

"Healthy boys fully erect," guiding Logan's hand over her bulbous breasts, Mary reflected, "lascivious little pet, barometers rise, their little cock surge when their eyes espy the gentle curves of the knocked -- up female."

"Quite the shower siren," Jenny remarked as we watched Mary use her other hand to tug on Cliff's erection to draw him closer.

On screen, Mary expounded, "Pregnancy brings heightened sensitivity from pillowy breasts to billowing butt, fires the hearty cunt exuding sensuality alluring sap into a rounded gut."

"The Institute takes your identity and reduces you to property, an object, a thing," I exclaimed, "through ritual absorption into the entity, ... "

Jenny held up a finger for silence. Pointing, she directed my attention to the screen.

Rubbing lancet into Mary's cleft, hands squishing swollen breasts, Cliff dared to ask, "By what magic whirl, is such a nice girl as you blessed, lose her stripes, her precedence, but saved from the trashcan through the Surrogacy program?"

"Temptations foment, a sorceress undressed." Mary's bulging belly shook with a laugh. "Eyes a - sparkling at nipples darkening, opportunity presents from rising scent, instinct unrestrained,"

Jenny and I laughed. "Sudsy soaped her body oily with lubrication," I quipped, "Mary sidestepped the question and slipped away from interrogation."

"Let me slip back a pace, leaving Cliff and Logan face -- to -- face," Mary prate her craft, "skin glistening, hearts bristling. Points touching, their lances bunching, untamed," Mary expounding fate, "juices ferment, lascivious intent, neurons tingling, bodies mingling,"

Slipping from the clutching, Mary blessed, "their lances touching, tips inflamed. I bring to fruition, a conjoined emission, dreams undreamt, live in the moment." Both males expent, Mary's admission come without contrition, "Furies unpent." Releasing shaft diminished, Mary exclaims, "And now we're done."

Parodying Mary's magic, Jenny remarked, "The temptress undressed caught in the middle uses her craft to leave guys in a riddle."

"Interesting ritual," I noted, "the male initiation, a union physical, yet so sensual, linking Logan to our confidence. How will we spirit Elm away to claim her inheritance?"

There was that enigmatic half smile on Jenny's face. I had to figure out the answer to the question of what ritual Elm might merit.

Later after the round-up, having been ritually searched and tagged, Felicity crossing her arms over her marshmallow sized breasts asked for her clothes. "One more stage in the ritual of acquisition," Jenny announced as she nodded to me to escort Felicity into the cavernous room where the holding pens were located, "before you can hangout with the other chicks in the hen house."

Once we entered the room, the naked women in the hen house were on their feet grabbing the bars, jumping up and down. The room echoed with high pitched shrill screams. Wide eyed, Felicity stopped. Jenny grabbed her arm and prodded her forward, "A quick shower, just what the doctor ordered."

I stood by while Felicity stood under a shower spigot and waited for Jenny to hit a button on her electronic notebook to start the water run. "Eek," Felicity squealed as cold water cascaded on her, followed by a stream of soap, then a rinse down.

Watching Felicity squirm under the cold water, Jenny rendered a clinical appraisal, "Light brown hair up top, trimmed medium brown pubes. Soft conical mammaries, cup B." I gritted my teeth when Jenny added, "You'd be a good match. Would you agree?"

When I nodded, Jenny continued, "Dark trimmed strands of pubic hair, a sight men vie to see."

A pause to allow me to chuckle, Jenny resumed, "Tiny delicate glutes, men smile with glee."

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jenny nodding at Elm as Felicity joined the other naked prisoners behind the wire.

Before setting out on repossessions, Jenny and I watched the conclusion of Logan's ritual initiation in merging stream of male emissions. "Let us attend to our business' troubles," Jenny chanted, "In deploying the team tonight how would you make the roster juggle?"

"How to deploy the team?" I thought before I suggested, "Logan with me in uniform in the police car; Cliff driving the van. ... And Mary, hmm What do we do with her?"

Changing the topic, Jenny reminded me, "You're under consideration for promotion." Jenny took a deep breath. "Voluntaries, like you, get precedence in selection for Lieutenant. You're being given a hard test. The assignment," Jenny shook her head, "presents some difficulties. We're after an escaped Officer in Charge of a capture team in a small college town. He's believed," she paused and shook her head, "to have escaped with an indenturee his team captured."