Capture Team Pt. 03: Change of Command

After reading the codes, I'd advise, "I only need to take one of you. Who wants to volunteer?"

Typically, the couple, they'd look at each other with stupid grins as Jack and Jill did right now. "What happens to the one not taken?" Jack dared to ask.

"He or she gets implanted with a subcutaneous microchip," I responded, "and issued a transportation pass to report in at the Institute. The term of the Indenture begins today and the three additional years imposed upon an indenturee to cover the cost of capture would be waived. So, who's coming with me?"

Usually, the guy volunteered as Jack did. I allowed them an embrace. "Remember," I teased them, "your NOTICE OF DEFAULT prohibits: 'sexual intercourse and other hazardous activities.'"

In Jack and Jill's apartment, Cliff whispered in my ear, "What would you do if they did it in front of you?"

When Cliff quested my ambivalent response, I clarified, "It depends on my feelings at the moment, the needs of the situation, and more importantly the Institute's instructions."

When Jack was removed and sent to the waiting van, I'd get a message from the van. Today I was advised, "The farm can't take in-tact male prisoners today."

"What does that mean?" Jill asked.

"It's your lucky day," I'd tell her, "Now finished getting undressed. I need to implant your chips."

With hands on her head facing me, Jill closed her eyes when I played with her left nipple, working it until it went hard. Jill laughed when I started to explain how more securely the implant burrows into a body in a state of arousal, "I need to --."

Interrupting me, Jill snickered, "If you need it that bad, get your clothes off. I'm property. I can't say no." When I drew a syringe with a six-inch needle from my belt, Jill quipped, "Jack brags about his needle; it isn't quite as long or as wide."

I joined her in merry laughter. In another reality we could have been friends.

"When you report in at the Institute, tell them you'd like to be assigned to security," I told Jill as I dipped the needle into a vial to draw a single grain of a sand-like substance. After gently massaging her left nipple, I shot the transponder into her breast. "Some gentle teasing brings on a little flush, allows your chip to implant deep into the flesh of your ample breast," I spoke in a soothing lyrical tone. With a twirling of my hands, I signalled Jane to turn around and put her hands on her knees.

Kneading her right buttcheek, I assured her, "Smooth as silk, Soft as butter, a little pinch, won't matter." Her flesh seemed to melt in my hands as I purred. When a rosy flush spread across her butt, I injected the transponder into her right butt cheek. She winced at the sharp point punctured her skin.

Looking to Logan who was focused intently on Jill's bare body, I remarked, "Warm work, Logan. Next time, all the men I work with will have their water works locked down in chastity to keep them from embarrassing themselves." At that warning, Logan shrugged his shoulders in pretended disinterest.

Most pregnant women were found alone. The guy ran off when the notice of default arrived. As one girl named Geri stripped naked holding a belly just beginning to show resting on the table, commented, "I wish I received that notice five -- six months ago, banning 'such hazardous activities as skydiving, racing and sexual intercourse without express written permission of the Institute.'"

Pregnant women caught by themselves were asked some questions about a pornographer who might have propositioned them. Unwilling to provide details they were simply whisked away. "Hopefully," I told Logan as Cliff whisked the prisoner away, "time in the Hen House will loosen their tongues."

Back in the dungeon, presented with a role in this investigation, Mary acknowledged that with indenturees there was a lot of loose talk. "Mostly they're not criminals. They just caught up with overspending. They're naked huddled together for warmth and talk too freely."

"How does that fit into your eh -- situation with LT Bernie?" Jenny pushed for details.

Mary sighed, "In Lt Bernie's plan, I would return with the shipment to the Institute and hook up with Bernie back in River Bend on the next mission there. Bernie's computer expert would show him killed in an accident."

"O.k." Jenny gently nudged Mary.

"However, along the way, I overheard one of the detainees explain how Bernie ran off with her professor," Mary explained, "I turned myself in. The computer hacker was called in, explained what happened, and asked to be attached to the security programme. They sent me back with you to River Bend to see if Bernie would emerge from the shadows."

With a sigh, Jenny advised, "We have no indication Bernie has come looking for you. If you are willing to assist the Institute find the good LT Bernie, then you will be kept in the Hen House to gather intelligence. You will be returned to the Institute with them. And the Institute decides. Do you have any questions?"

"I have one," I interjected, "Mary, I take it you've never told Sergeant Jenny the extent of your relationship with LT Bernie or your actual purpose on this mission. Could you explain?"

"Those were my instructions from the Institute," Mary replied, "only divulge the information if Sergeant Jenny needed it to catch LT Bernie and Sergeant Jenny explained a situation where the information would help her."

All the freckles on Sergeant Jenny's face merged as her cheeks turned a beet red. Finally, Jenny asked as the blush subsided, "Anything else? Anybody?"

"Can," Mary leaned forward, "I be present when Bernie -- is altered?"

"For the moment, you'll have to sublimate your enjoyment of that experience. Assist Cliff buckling his hoscus into Chastity," Jenny growled, "then lock yourself up in the Hen House. Can you manage that?"

"Jenny," Mary shook her head, "I feel sorry for you. You're so short handed. Your prisoner has to lock herself up."

"As the Institute directs," Jenny retorted.

While generally with the pregnant women, even the married ones, the guy vanished soon after the arrival of the NOTICE OF DELINQUINCY, DEFAULT AND INTENT TO LEVY. If there were children in the house, I'd take the woman into another room and have her strip to implant the transponder.

When Helena one of the pregnant women questioned the practice, "The insertion is subcutaneously, that means under the skin."

"I worked in the University Hospital," Helena reported, "until I was told: your services are no longer necessary. They don't have to pay an indenturee working off a student debt overtime."

Feeling her heavy breasts and teasing her nipples, I observed "pregnancy makes the gal's nips stand out and the ring around them to enlarge and brighten." Gently holding her breasts in the palm of my hands," I assured her, "I won't inject the transponder into these bouncing boobs."

"That's a relief," Helena held her hands over mine.

"Puffy breasts usually make good milkers. You'll probably have it easy: daily exercise, good food," I assured her, "dinner with beer or wine..."

"Imagine," Helena said in a sarcastic tone, "I found a way I can make myself necessary once again. It's important to be useful -- somewhere."

"Human milk markets well. Only porn outstrips it in terms of profit," I noted.

"Interesting choice of words! Now, porn?" Helena remarked as she leaned into the bed to accept the implant in her butt, "I heard they were looking for girls, of all sorts even pregnant ones, to do porn. They use an auditorium. It may be somewhere on campus. No one's around in the middle of the night. I was leery."

"Oh?" I prodded Helena without showing too much interest.

Helena shook her head. "My guy who dropped out of sight as soon as that notice popped up, tried to get me interested in it."

At my direction, Helena leaned against the bed to accept the implantation into the flesh of her butt. As I loaded the syringe for the injection, Helena asked, "what happens next? Do you run me in and leave the kids or do they go too?"

"I'm going to issue you a transport pass to travel to the Institute. You are due there in one week," I rendered the instructions.

Helena righted herself and started to turn toward me until I barked, "Retain the position. I need to swipe the bar code on your hip to complete the transaction."

As I swiped the code on her butt, Helena muttered, "Transaction? That sounds so commercial."

I agreed enthusiastically, "Correct! Officially you are property of the Institute. Congratulations. Your status is now Surrendered to commence your indenture, as if you had complied with the NOTICE OF DELINQUINCY. Congratulations! You've saved yourself three years." I patted her butt.

"But there's a catch?" Helena asked.

In a pleasant tone, I added, "If you can get a relative or friend to take your kids, great. If not, the children travel too. The Institute will see to their placement. The pass is good to buy food for one week. If you fail to appear at the Institute, you can suffer additional penalties."

We ended up picking up a couple of additional subjects not on our list when we stopped to ask some college girls to ask directions. At our approach to obtain directions, the girls blurted out they just got the notices. Whisking them into the van, I noticed we were blocking a narrow pitted, unmarked alley no bigger than a driveway: our destination.

Without hesitation Elise, a statuesque woman in her mid - thirties with a child at her feet opened the door. Dressed in a dark skirt and stockings, Elise pleasantly admitted us to the foyer of the gabled three story frame house. Sending the child to get her father, Elise sighed, "I guess I better get ready."

Downcast, her husband dungaree clad Peter, tall and muscular, politely asked if we could take him instead of her. "All the debt is really mine. Elise had a job and could obtain credit."

"I was a director of admissions," Elise, her cameo pendant bobbed as she nodded agreement, interjected, "at the University -- until it out - sourced my job."

"I was running a small business," Pete explained, "I had the contract to rebuild one of the old auditoriums until the University decided to cut out small independent operators like myself by delays in the project until next summer. They found some use for Robbins auditorium during the school year. Heck passed by there several times, no signs of life at least during the day."

I said nothing to see if a lull In the conversation drew out more information before I postulated that the theatre was used at night ...Peter snapped back, "No ticket sales, no posters, no lights, no newspaper advertisements, parking lot not used, steps never swept..."

Again, I allowed the conversation to reach a new lull to see if it would draw more information from Peter. Instead, a teary-eyed Peter offered, "Take me, leave her with the kids."

Promising to consult my superior, I sent a message to Sergeant Jenny. My inquiry concluded, could this be what we're looking for? Jenny's instructions came back. "Need time to consult Institute. Bid for time."

"Logan," I ordered, "watch the kid. If the others come in from school, keep them. To the couple, I invited them into the dining room. When the couple stared at me, I added, "Elise has the title to the house. Upon declaration of delinquency, the property was forfeit to us--The Institute."

Even though the room was enshrouded by double shades, dark and light, It was obvious from the wainscoted walls, the hand crafted mahogany table, with a matching buffet against one wall and a hutch on the other, with expensive plates and dishes in a china cabinet revealed happier days of wealth and privilege.

As I marveled at the elegant furnishings and décor, Pete commented, "In business you find you're only as good as your last deal. That deal went bust for me. This means I go bust too."

With a glance at the door, I directed Cliff to close the door. Once I heard the click of the door being shut. I turned to Elise and Pete and told them to face each other two -- to -- three feet apart. A glance at Cliff sent Cliff to show them how to measure the distance by extending their arms to touch their partner's shoulder with the tips of their fingers. "Just a typical exercise from the Institute in security training," Cliff assured them. A nod from Cliff indicated the two were ready.

After shooting the pair a penetrating stare, I roared the order, "OK, Peter hands on your head. C'm'n you want to indenture yourself. You must learn to follow orders."

I waited for Peter to comply before I turned to Elise. "Now, Elise, hand me your jewellery." Unclasping her pendant, she handed me her pendant, her wrist bands and wristwatch followed. Examining her jewellery and placing them on the table, I complemented her on her exquisite taste. "Anything else?" I asked.

When Elise shook her head. I pointed to her ring. Her mouth opened to protest. I barked at Pete, "Hands on head, don't move. I haven't had to tazze anyone today. You could be the first. Not good to force me to report a potential volunteer suffers from testosterone poisoning." Elise removed an engagement ring and a wedding band.

"You also have superlative taste in clothing," I complimented Elise. "That jacket works well with the blouse and skirt. I walked around her brushing past Pete. "Strip naked. I need to check you for more jewellery."

The word "What" formed on Peter's lips, but no sound emitted when I yelled "silence." In a firm tone I ordered, "Proceed, Elise."

Elise, complying without argument, crouched down to pull her heels off and drop her grey skirt. Righting herself, Elise passed her skit and shoes to Cliff who knocked the pumps together and turned the skirt inside out to inspect the seams.

"Your partner, Pete," I upbraided the male as the female continued to disrobe. Delicately balancing herself on one foot, Elise rolled her thigh length stockings down her feet, "is property. Property wears only the clothing the Institute permits."

Deliberately, Elise unbuttoned her white blouse. Leaving her top to hang open. Elise shifted her weight in a kind of dance. "You have experience," I commented, "in addition to taste."

"Worked my way through college," Elise boasted as she slipped her blouse off her shoulders and passed it to Cliff.

"Danced your way stripping through this college town to the Deanship of Admissions! Did you ever think of working off the debt," I asked as she unhooked her bra. Pete's eyes widened when freedom from restraints sent her DDs bouncing, "or catching up by working porn?"

Hands on the bows of her high leg string bikini bottoms, Elise answered, "I put feelers out." It took only a penetrating stare from me to prompt Elise to release the bows on her panties. Her pubis was bare, recently shaven. Swinging the panties by the string, Elise tossed them in Cliff's face. "See," Elise bragged in a breathless tone, "I still have the touch."

"Hold still," I ordered, "I have to inject your transponder into your left breast.," As I took the syringe to implant the device, I looked toward Cliff to order him to keep his eye on the husband. I was sure the lump in his dungarees hardened as I massaged her left breast to prepare it for the injection of the transponder. I assured her, "a pinprick, so quick, never missing a beat, in the flesh, soft and sweet, of the ample breast."

After a full-frontal photograph, Elise inquired, "What next?"

Twirling my hand in the air to signal Elise to turn around, I snapped a photo and began manipulating her right butt cheek to ready it for the injection, "A gentle tweak, a quick flick, of the pinprick, in the seat."

Turning to Pete, "My, Pete for someone who wants to do the far, far better thing by volunteering to become an indentured slave to see if you appraise high enough to pay your wife's debt, you're fully dressed."

Cliff's mouth was moving. I knew what Cliff wanted to say. I shook my head.

To Elise, I gave an instruction, "you worked your way through college in dealing with men who wanted it. You know how to assist Pete get ready." Elise looked at me surprised. "I understand the risk in allowing you to strip him, but Your NOTICE OF DEFAULT prohibits dangerous activities, not risqué behavior."

Why was Pete frozen in place? I wondered. Was it shock? Did it bode resistance, refusal? Likely, out of guilt or masculine pride, Pete had volunteered to save his wife from being taken away and the children left behind without her. Realizing the consequences could make him reluctant.

"Oh, Big feller," Elise addressed her husband in a breathless voice, "Let me help you out of those sweaty clothes. A trip to the shower and a little rub -- dub -- dub together will cure your stage fright."

Elise began to artfully undress Pete. "Let's start at the top," Kneeling in front of Pete, Elise maintained an entrancing eye contact as she outlined each step, "Your shirt first." Unbuttoning his shirt and opening it, she ran the tip her fingernail down his sternum to his belly button. At Elise's direction to "go ahead." Pete, shucking off his shirt bared a heaving hairy chest. Cliff retrieved the shirt and placed it on the table.

Squatting to unbuckle his belt and lower his zipper, Elise yanked his pants down. His engorged penis danced in her face. "I can see you're happy to see me. I'm not sure if I'm authorized to have fun."

As Cliff went through Pete's clothing. I received a message from Jenny that the Institute would authorize offering Pete an unconditional Voluntary Indenture, without a stipulated appraised value, but first there was a test -- of obedience.

Glancing in my direction, Pete was getting ready to test my resolve. Slowly lowering his hands from his head, Pete rested them on Elise's shoulders. Her hands reached out to held that throbbing erection; her mouth opened to receive his shaft; her tongue slithered out.

Elise turned to me. With soulful eyes, she made her appeal, "These may be our last moments together."

I shook my head and nodded to her to step away. "Face him," I growled a command, "Both of you. Hands on your heads." Placing her hands on her head, Elise thrust her chest out, causing his projectile to throb.

Cliff looked at me perplexed. I could read the word 'Why' off his face. I signalled him with my eyes. I couldn't tell: Was the heartbeat of the naked couple apart by less than an arm's length louder than mine. Could Pete maintain that erection get any longer? I'd have expected the swelling to have subsided as ardor cooled with the icy words of stark denial.

The power of the Itch reverberated spasmodically throughout the room. Cliff looked away. Pete, I could tell, was filling his mind with mathematical equations to avoid it. Elise could feel it, but stood fast.

How did that horny ballad from the female barracks in security training at the Institute go? "The itch, magic of the witch, when she feels the surge, she harnesses the surge, to keep the goal, of stealing his soul, the illusion of serving his wish, Hail to the Bitch!"

I took a deep breath. After this I'm sure Elise will go checking out her feelers, just to release the tension. Hmm.

How many more minutes should we torture this couple? How much longer could we ourselves endure? I wondered. Finally, when prompted by my notebook, I verified that the couple had obeyed orders. I was instructed to offer the husband an indenture and bring him in.

I held my notebook in front of Pete. "Use your fingernail to sign. Your appraised value will be determined later." At my nod, Cliff returned Pete's clothes. Elise turned to the table to reach for her clothes. I told her to wait.

Once I was sure, Pete was outside in the van, I informed Elise, "As of now, Pete's action was admirable, but until a favorable appraisal comes through, you are property subject to levy. You have 10 days to report to the Institute. I am issuing you a transportation pass and an authorization to buy food for yourself and children for the next 10 days. If you can't find someone to take the kids, bring them with you. The Institute will place them."