Gabriela's Enslavement Ch. 02

Gabbie saw Bethany try to cover her enormous, pale breasts with her hands, and that made her angry. Bethany was her friend, Bethany was her slave-sister, and THIS cunt was hurting her feelings! Gabriela glanced at the two slave handlers and saw that they were just enjoying the show. Every girl loves a bit of drama. Gabbie scowled fiercely at the mean girl and tried to come up with a response that would hurt the other girl's feelings, but not draw the anger of the watching free women.

Most of Red's cage-mates, apparently accustomed to such rantings, ignored her. But two others came over to see what was so interesting. One was an older, ebony-skinned woman. She was slender - not "skinny" - and also had a startlingly prominent forehead. But whereas the redhead made it look like a deformity, she made it look like the crown of a queen. "Knock it off, Red, they're just tryin' ta get through their day, same as us."

"Red" turned on her furiously, then looked around for support. Bullies are like that. They like having an audience. She didn't find any. The majority of the veteran slaves might not empathize overmuch with two freshly-enslaved girls, but they weren't going to support unnecessary bullying.

"A'right, SHUT UP!" shouted the man with the wooden paddle. "Listen up! Anyone crosses me gets swats! Listen to what I gotta say! You are not wearing shock collars, and you are not wearing hobbles. I ain't got time for that shit. I need you hoppin' and poppin' when I say so. We got a few things to do and then I'm-a toss you on a bus and I don't gotta think about you no more! I like it that way, don't make me think different!"

"There ain't no way outta here that's NOT the Slutbus!" he continued. "We got a ten-foot fence all around this property. The top three feet o' that is razor wire. It's called "razor wire" for a reason, 'cuz it will SLICE YOU UP! There ain't enough band-aids in the world to fix that shit, so don't do it."

When he started shouting again, Gabriela was unsure what to do, but decided that the "present" position was appropriate. Bethany stepped beside her and copied it. Surely, they couldn't get punished for that, right?

Red sneered at them, muttering, "Slave positions, really?"

She was probably right, thought Gabbie. The two of them were literally the only slaves acting like they were under slave discipline. The rest just milled about as they listened to their orders.

"First off, sick call. Raise your hand if you think you need to see the nurse." The head boss looked around, noting the three hands raised.

"Okay, I got two newbies with fresh brands not raising their hands," he drawled humorously. "Raise your damn hands, sluts. As for the rest of you, if Nurse Eri says you wasted her time, I'm-a give you ten swats. Put your hand down if you don't want ten swats."

Two of the women did so, and the two wranglers outside of Gabbie and Beth's cage slammed the door open, cuffed their arms behind their backs, and pulled them into the passageway. They were soon joined by a middle-aged Hispanic woman who appeared to be very sickly indeed. Gabriela suspected that she was the source of the gurgling cough she heard the night before, and her heart went out to her. Slavers weren't renowned for providing quality health care.

As the three women were coffled together on a length of ballistic nylon, Gabriela heard the boss continue to shout instructions at the bulk of the utility slaves.

"A'right, that's outta the way. Next, we're gonna open the doggie door. Then yer gonna crawl out one at a time. We're gonna coffle ya in groups of ten and march ya ta the piss grate, where yer gonna piss. That's why we call it that. 'Cuz you piss on it. Then yer gonna git yer slutty asses hosed out so ya don't make a mess on the bus. The Slutbus does not stop nowhere for nothin'..."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Belly of The Beast

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Guided by the two slave handlers, the three-slave coffle made its way through the warehouse's maze of slave cages. The slavery business is based on cheap labor, and that labor needs to be moved from place to place. Since time immemorial, most slave labor has worked in the agriculture business. Picking seasons vary by crop, time of year, and latitude. The five women passed a number of cages filled with sun-burnt men wearing overalls and straw hats.

When most free people think about slaves, the first thing that comes to mind is female sex slaves - beautiful, naked women without the freedom to refuse sex. In other words, they are slavery's "rock stars". But that's not the truth of the matter. Most slaves are men, they wear orange denim, and they work for a living. They work hard, mostly in the hot, unforgiving sun, and they are lonely. So, when two actual, female sex slaves were paraded in front of them, they acted accordingly.

Each man, alerted by the movement of his neighbor, stood and moved toward the fence in a wave that preceded their approach. The mass of silent men moving like a single organism was eerie and a bit frightening. The cages in the male section of the warehouse became an unbroken wall of grinning, leering men's faces. They were still completely silent, though. There was no catcalling, only staring. Gabriela had almost gotten accustomed to her own nudity, but the wall of staring eyes triggered a surge of fear and shame and she stumbled and began to hyperventilate.

"Don't look at 'em, honey," the slave handler holding the guide rod advised her. "Look down. Watch your feet, one step in front of the other. They can't get out, and you're not going in there with them."

"Hands off the wire, you!" she snapped angrily, striking it with her quirt. "Take a step back or I'm fetching the hose! These 'uns ain't for the likes of you!"

Gabriela appreciated the women's fierce protectiveness, and she hoped that Bethany was all right. She wasn't about to turn and look, though. That probably wasn't a good idea. She didn't want to stumble, and she didn't want to face those eyes again.

The five women finally entered an office area. Gabbie shuddered and felt an immediate easing of the anxiety-induced tightness in her chest. She was still nude, she was still cuffed, but the "monster" was gone now. It had been a frightening experience.

Nothing in Gabriela's young life had been able to prepare her for that. As a free woman, of course, she wore clothing, and men were expected to treat her with decorum. But now, she was literally a naked sex slave. She had no protection other than the goodwill of her owner, who wasn't here. She realized that she was now really and truly passing through the belly of the beast that is modern slavery, and it contained a monster with 10,000 staring eyes.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Nurse Erimipe

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In direct contrast to the warehouse, the office area was... an office area. Instead of cold, grubby concrete, Gabbie's unshod feet luxuriated in the relatively comforting feel of carpeting. Sure, it was the type of hard, thin carpet that one might expect in an old office building, but it had an immediate positive effect on her mood. Things were looking up!

As they headed down the hallway, the trailing slave wrangler spoke up, loud enough for all three slaves to hear. "We call it the "eyeball canyon effect," it can be a bit scary if you ain't used to it. They know not to say anything if they don't want to get a whoopin', but there ain't no way to stop 'em from looking. You two are finer than most of the slave meat we ship through here, so it's a special treat for them. I'da expected ya'll to be shipped air freight, but we do get a few cuties like ya'll. Not that it matters much. The only slave hoes they have in the work camps are pretty worn out and busted up. So any gal with all her teeth is a big hit with them."

Gabriela appreciated the woman's tone. It was perfect. Just enough compassion to comfort a distraught slave, but not enough to give the slave an idea that she might be manipulable. Slave handlers had to walk a very fine line with their treatment of slaves. If they were too harsh, the slave might resist. If they were too kind, the slave would try to take advantage. It was one of the things that Gabriela meant to convey to Bethany when she comforted her the previous night. Slavery isn't just a legal condition, it's a type of relationship between human beings. Slaves DO have free will, and they use it to their advantage when they are able. This particular slave boss's tone was just right; firm but fair.

When they entered the building's small, sparsely-equipped clinic, Bethany and Gabriela were secured facing the wall, while the slave nurse took charge of the older woman and began to examine her. The nurse was a thickly-built African woman with a very precise British accent. Gabriela surmised that she was an immigrant under the "Four Years to Freedom" immigration program. The program allowed applicants with necessary skills to serve a four-year indenture in exchange for legal residency afterwards. One of the in-demand categories was veterinary medicine. Many medical professionals were unwilling to work with slaves, so it was always an area in constant need. It didn't surprise Gabby at all that the warehouse had a slave nurse.

When the nurse finished her examination, she reported to the slave wrangler. "This slave is too ill to travel today. She must be given medicine and kept here for observation overnight."

"Ain't happening," the handler replied. "She's part of a 17-slave shipment for a food processing plant and needs to go out today."

"She is too sick to travel," the nurse replied, her tone unwavering. "You can beat me for it, but she stays here. Also, if you put her on a bus with others, she will keep coughing. They will become ill, too. Then they will go to a barracks and make everyone there sick. The food processing plant will not be able to work, and they will be fined. She will stay here until I say she is better."

Gabbie had been obediently staring at the wall, but she turned her head to see the astonishing scene. The slave nurse had her chin up in defiance, but her expression was one of serenity. This woman really WAS ready to be beaten in order to protect a sick slave!

Amazingly, after a brief stare-down, the slave handler simply nodded and replied, "Fine, I'll let them know. Finish up with the other two and have them ready when I get back."

After she locked the door and left, the nurse sat on a stool behind Gabriela and began tending her burn wound. "Hello," she said, "my name is Nurse Erimipe, but you can call me Eri. How did a pretty girl like you get enslaved, bought too many pretty things?"

"No, umm, I actually bought a tire shop for my uncle and brother. I wasn't a cosigner on the loan, I was just the collateral," Gabriela responded bitterly.

"Ah, and it went under?"

"Burned down, but yes." Gabbie replied.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you," Nurse Erimipe responded empathetically while she cleansed Gabriela's brand. "I always ask people how they ended up here and I hear so many things. Sometimes when you are thinking about something else, you aren't thinking about how much this hurts. Did my distraction work?"

"It did, thank you. May I ask you a question? Where did you find the courage to stand up to a slave boss like that?"

"It is very simple. I became a nurse to help people. This woman needs help, so I will do it, even if I get beaten for it. It is my calling. I place my faith in God. If He wants me to be beaten today, then so be it."

The woman spoke with such confidence. Gabriela hadn't been to Mass in years, but she was raised in the Church, and she knew without question that sometimes, faith was more precious than gold. This woman had faith, and she was therefore - while entirely naked - wealthier than an heiress clad in diamonds.

Gabriela was impressed with Erimipe, and she learned something. Even in degradation, there is courage. Even when one is no longer legally human, one is still Human. Even a slave, the least among us, can exemplify the very best of us.

Next, the Nurse Eri tended to Bethany's wound and asked her the same question. Bethany told her, finishing up with "You must think I'm a foolish girl for doing something so stupid."

"No, you are a good girl," Erimipe replied. "You saw a good thing that wanted to be done, and you sacrificed yourself on that altar. As you said, perhaps the sea turtles will be safer now. You will be rewarded someday. So be confident, have faith, and follow your path. When you leave here, I want you to walk with your heads held high, because you are both among the best of us."

Finished now, the nurse smiled at them. "You see, I don't just tend wounds, I also tend to my patients' hearts. That is actually the most important treatment of all. You needed to hear these things even more than you needed my medicines. I'm sorry that I can only give you aspirin and that the topical anesthetic won't last very long. You will be in great pain before you arrive at your destination. I am sorry for that, but there are others who need it more than you do. So, every time it hurts, remember that you are suffering for a reason. You are suffering so that I may preserve what supplies I have for those slaves who need it more."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The Slutbus

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After the trip to the clinic, the girls were given enemas, washed (hosed down, really), and then to their surprise, diapered. "The Slutbus doesn't stop," they were told, "that means it's not stopping for you to piss. You have two drivers and 32 slaves on that bus. It's not enough people to control all 32 of you at rest areas, since we don't use shock collars here. So, diapers it is."

Gabriela and Bethany had the last four digits of their Slave ID numbers re-stenciled on their chests and were then led back through the maze of cages. This time, faced with the wall of staring eyes, Gabbie kept her head held high and walked with confidence. Nurse Eri was right. She had nothing to be ashamed of and nothing to fear. She had finally regained the confidence that she had the day before on the auction block.

Gabriela's enslavement wasn't voluntary, and it wasn't entirely her fault. But it WAS her destiny, and she needed to accept that and make it her own. It was only five years. She would be 28 years old when she became a free woman again. She would still be young and have plenty of time to start a new life. She just needed to get through the next five years with her mind, body, and spirit intact. She could do this!

The bus was an old, converted prison bus, that much was clear. Someone painted over "Alabama Dept. of Corrections" on the side - poorly - and repainted it with "Danger - Slave Transport - Danger". Waiting in line, Gabriela thought it was obvious to anyone with two brain cells to rub together that a busload of naked, frightened women with cuffed hands wearing diapers wasn't a threat to anyone. And yet this WAS a very dangerous bus. Slavery had only been back for a few years, and there were plenty of people who refused to accept it. "Interference with slavery operations" was a federal felony in all 51 states and all Native tribal lands.

The more enthusiastic states even tacked on additional penalties. In Gabriela's native state of Texas, a conviction for "interference with slavery operations" meant an automatic branding with the "Circle A" abolitionist felon brand and a quick trip to the auction block. Although Bellefleur Financial was in the debt slavery business, not the criminal slavery business, Gabriela had seen quite a few "abolitionists" processed for the crime of trying to prevent the legal enslavement of one of their relatives. Only the month before, in an event that seemed like an entire lifetime ago, Gabbie had seen a father and his three sons enslaved for trying to protect a female family member from being enslaved. The saddest part was that, if the four men had simply pooled their financial resources, they should have been able to clear the girl's debt or at least buy her back at auction. They didn't even need to go anywhere else. Bellefleur Financial offered a "guaranteed buyback" plan, which allowed the family to pay 110% of the debt without ever putting the repossessed slave up for auction in order to free them immediately. Instead, after a chaotic fistfight with slave catchers in their front yard, that family sent five members into slavery at once.

Thirty-one women stood in two rows facing the bus. Dawn was just over the horizon, and the morning was still chilly. The girls were provided with cheap plastic flip flops, but nothing else. Like all the others, Gabriela and Bethany were entirely nude with the exception of their collars, diapers, and flip-flops. She shivered, and it wasn't just from the cold. The confidence she felt while braving the wall of eyes for the second time went away as soon as she was led out into the parking lot.

The head slave wrangler paced back and forth, holding a clipboard. He was clearly anxious to get rid of them and start processing the next shipment. Gabriela and Bethany's documents were checked against the SIN number tattooed on the inside of their lower lips, and then re-taped to their thighs.

Two new men that Gabriela didn't recognize were leaning against the bus. They watched the girls closely, obviously conferring about something important, something that made them happy. Eighteen hours driving across the country with a busload naked women would probably make any man happy, she thought.

Finally, the warehouse boss seemed satisfied. He turned to the two drivers, "All yours, Slim, tell us when and how to load 'em."

The older driver, apparently named "Slim", nodded and stepped forward. He was a big man, big and tall. He might have been slim in his youth, but that was probably thirty years ago. He wasn't obese or anything, he had just traded the slender build of his youth for the thickness of a mature adult male. Slim paused for a moment and scratched his beard, creating a bit of tension. It was always nerve-wracking for a slave to meet a new boss. One never knew how they were going to behave, and a slave doesn't have the right to protest ill treatment.

Suddenly the man burst into a cheerful smile that made him appear - slightly - less menacing. "All right, listen up!" he spoke in a voice loud enough for thirty shivering women to hear in a parking lot containing several idling diesel engines.

"This here's the Slutbus. Technically, it's "Slave Transport B29", but we call it the Slutbus because we're gonna pack it full of sluts. That's you, by the way. Then we're gonna drive to Richmond, Virginia. I got rules and yer gonna follow 'em. I don't take no bull from nobody, especially not from you. So, we follow the rules, have a stress-free trip, and everyone's happy, got it?"

"The bus has seats, you will sit in the seats. The seats have seat belts, you will wear the seatbelts. The seatbelts are not locked, they're latched. You will not unlatch them without permission or unless there's an emergency. Every latch has a sensor and I got a lot of little green lights on the dash that tells me if you do. Do not test me, you got no reason for getting up without my say-so."

He held up one meaty hand with the palm toward the group. "Somebody tests me every trip, and when that happens, I deliver a spanking. Believe me when I say this, you do NOT want me spanking you! If you do it again, I have a nice wooden paddle, just like this fella here, and I DO know how to use it. After that, you've earned actual chains and you get to spend the rest of the trip hog-tied and on the floor. Technically, that's a safety violation, but so is an unruly slave. Don't be unruly, it creates more work."

"Every seatback has a bag of kibble and two water bottles. This is your food and water for the entire trip. If you drink all the water, we will give you more. If you eat all the food, then that's too bad."