Gabriela's Enslavement

"Head up, girl!" Justin snapped. "The cameras need to get a good look at you. You're slave 5993 now and you better get used to it because you're going to be slave 5993 for a very long time!"

"What do you think, Jake, did I get a good price?"

"Yeehaw, buddy," came a voice from directly behind Gabbie. She didn't need to see behind her, everyone knew the voice of Jake Henry. "I'm glad my humble establishment was able to provide you with that service. I like this one, too, maybe I'll buy her myself and take her home with me."

Gabriela glanced over and saw that Mr. Do was on the other side of Bethany the influencer girl, mirroring Master Bellefleur's pose and actions. Bethany didn't look very interested in being purchased, but she was definitely enjoying the physical sensations. Mr. Do had pleasured a lot of slave girls over the years and he knew exactly what he was doing.

Justin eyed the slender influencer's pink grading collar. "Any chance auction?"

"Nope, and yep, and kinda-sorta," Jake responded cheerfully as the two men watched Mr. Do diddle the helpless college student. "This fine young gentleman here is Josh, he's on my social media team. It was his idea. Find an influencer and set up a charity auction. This girl is passionate about sea turtles. I like that, she reminds me of my niece. Anyway, we grade her and auction her off here, posting the entire thing on her InstaTok feed. If her followers donate more money to the Sea Turtle Rescue Fund than her auction price, she goes home free in about.... how much longer, Josh?"

"About 20 minutes, sir."

"About 20 minutes then, plenty of time. BUT, if someone bids higher before then, she gets sold and we trade this pink collar for a real one. We'll have a dramatic revelation scene in a bit now. It will be fun to see her face then. The great thing about it is that all the money goes to her favorite charity, win or lose. So it's good PR for the slavery business in general. People can see that slavery is good and it makes the world a better place. What do you think?"

Part of Gabriela, the part empathizing with the unfortunate InstaToker, thought it was a horrible idea. The part of Gabriela that was a professional slaver thought it was extremely clever. She could see that Mr. Do was pleasuring the other girl at the same speed that Justin was stroking her. Judging by her face, Bethany was approaching an orgasm and the videographer was lining up his shot. So was Gabriela. She glanced at her own camera. This upcumming moment was going to be recorded for posterity. She desperately wanted to turn her head away from the camera's unfeeling gaze, but Master Bellefleur had ordered her to look straight at it when she climaxed.

The excited gawkers could see what was happening and they were loving it. A large number of cell phones had appeared in their hands and she knew that she could never live this down. The humiliation was going to be utter and complete. Even if Master Bellefleur took her home tonight and manumitted her immediately, she would have nowhere to go to escape from her disgrace. It was going to shatter her life. What was she thinking? Her pre-slavery life was already destroyed, she would have to build something new. So it shouldn't really matter to her, anyway. And yet she was still having difficulty setting herself free from an entire lifetime of societal conditioning. She couldn't do it. She kept resisting; she couldn't orgasm in front of all these people. Doing it on the auction floor was different, then, she was desperate to make a sale.

"Tell you what, Joe, five grand says my girls shoots off first," said Master Do, grinning at his old friend. "If my girl goes first, I put five grand on #savebethany. If your girl pops first, you put it on #sellbethany. Deal?"

"Deal!"

Oh no, Justin had made a bet on her! His prestige was on the line and he needed her! Gabriela looked over at her rival. Bethany was bound and panting and resisting just as hard as she was. But then her expression changed and her eyes narrowed. It went from desperate but futile resistance to determination. Unlike Gabbie, she was an attention whore, all eyes must be on her! She was determined to cum first. Gabbie couldn't let that happen. Her Master was the best! Gabbie's excitement began to peak and... she realized that if she won, then that five thousand dollars might seal Bethany's fate. She froze, she couldn't do it. She watched helplessly as Bethany began to climax while staring at the camera, giving it her best attention-whore smile.

Gabriele lost! She failed Master yet again today! Whimpering, she tried to recapture the moment, squirming and wriggling under his touch. She regained the lost ground, peaked, and vibrated through her second orgasm of the day, this one driven not by her own fingers, but by the fingers of the man she loved. She did it, and she did it for him! Master had ordered her to look straight at the camera. She did that, too! Gabriela Chavez's inhibitions had been put aside and slave 5993 reveled in the afterglow of success.

Endorphins rushed through her body and everything tingled as the two girls came down from their shared orgasm. Master Bellefleur stepped back, but retained a firm hand on her shoulder, comforting her as... she screamed. Bethany screamed in concert. While the two panting girls were distracted in a post-orgasmic haze, Merle and his assistant simply walked up behind them and pressed white-hot branding irons into their bottoms, held them for a few seconds, and then backed away. Neither girl was expecting it. They should have, but they weren't. Orgasms have that effect.

Slave 5993 was in agony. It hurt so much. The smithy's fans tried valiantly to remove the stench of burnt flesh, but some of the smoke still reached her nose. It was her own burnt skin and the flesh beneath that she was smelling. A first-degree burn only damages the uppermost layer of skin, the epidermis. A sunburn is a first-degree burn. A second-degree burn also damages the second layer of skin, the living dermis. A blister is a second-degree burn. A third-degree burn cuts through the epidermis, the dermis... and burns the flesh beneath. Slave 5993 just suffered a third-degree burn. When it healed, she would carry a scar in the precise shape of the Bid D Auction House's logo with a letter "P" for "Prime" in the center of it. She was now marked forever with a corporate logo. The mark of a high-quality woman enslaved and auctioned here on these premises.

If the slave formerly known as Gabriele Chavez had been capable of coherent thought right now, and if she hadn't been bound to the steel framework of the badging bench, she would have seen Jake Henry, Justin Bellefleur and Joseph Do take the still-smoking brands from the smiths, salute one another, and then light their cigars on the white hot shoulders of the brands. The face of the brand was of course darkened by losing its heat in the slave girls' rumps. Not to mention lingering traces of still smoking burnt skin and flesh. She would become familiar with the scene later. The Big D's self-published magazine made sure of it. In the insert, the three businessmen stood shoulder to shoulder, lighting their cigars while gazing at the camera through the combined tendrils of tobacco and slave girl smoke through slitted eyes, daring their enemies to make the next move. No moves were made. Nobody dared. Years later, Gabriele and her slave-sister Bethany would be proud that their combined sacrifice helped make that moment happen.

But right now, it just hurt. Slave 5993 barely noticed when the mother-daughter duo next to them received their "Prime Minus" and "Prime MOM" brands simultaneously. She only focused on the excruciating pain in her own ass... and partially about the poor Bethany. The other girl had probably been tricked or misled into being here. Gabriela had no excuse. She lied to her Master and was enslaved for her own mistake.

Finally, somebody or someone or something sprayed a healing balm on her tormented ass and slave 5993 was released. Cici, the wrangler supervisor from before, was there to unbind her and lead her away.

"I gotchu, honey," she said, "you can do this, you're strong, you're beautiful, you can walk. It's just a little sting, follow me now."

Slave 5993 followed her on tentative feet over to where Master and his friends were enjoying their cigars. They retreated from the bustle around the badging benches and were quietly chatting in a corner. Cici gently guided the still-in-shock slave girl to her knees in front of her new Master, who placed his hand firmly on top of her head and pulled her teary cheek into his thigh while otherwise ignoring her.

It wasn't much different from the way a man treats a dog he was especially fond of, she thought, "I'm a pet now." It was oddly comforting. She was safe now. Master was in charge. He would protect her.

"Yeah," Master said, "that bill's not gonna pass. The freaking 7-year limit is Biblical, it's ironclad. They'll get some campaign funds out of it from the special interests -- that's us, of course -- but it ain't going nowhere. Treat it like it is, a bunch of stupid pandering."

The slave knelt contentedly at Master's feet. She didn't know what would happen next. Perhaps he would take her home now? She didn't even know where "home" was anymore, except that it was wherever Master wanted it to be. She may have been fantasizing about being his for the past year, but she hadn't expected it to involve an actual sale. Gabriele's fall from grace hadn't stopped her from being a bright, intelligent, and inquisitive woman, but she was mentally and emotionally exhausted from the most traumatic day of her young life. Now she was currently safe, so she let her mind drift and enjoyed being Master's beloved pet...

"All right," Master said, as he tugged her to her feet with the leash on her collar.

"When did that get there?" the girl wondered, looking at it in confusion.

And what was all right?

It was so easy not to think and just obey. Master was always right. Slave 5993 followed her Master as he walked with his friends through various hallways and up some stairs. Everyone they met gave way. That was the natural order of things. Master went places, people and slaves got out of his way, slave 5993 followed. She was safe and secure. She had a leash.

The trio of slavers walked through yet another door and entered a long, enclosed room. It was dark and cool in there and the right side was a window with a long desk beneath. They were above the stands in the VIP seating area of the auction hall. Slave 5993 shook her head. She had been here before... back when she was "Gabriela".

Gabriela blinked her eyes as Master led her along through the darkness, wafting tobacco smoke, the coal of his cigar glowing in the subdued light. Wow, she really drifted away for a bit, she thought. That wasn't good. And her butt hurt. A lot.

Master's friend, Master Jake, led them toward a small group of technicians hunkered over a few laptops as they gazed intently at the screens or out into the auction house arena.

"Status?" he demanded.

"All cool, sir," one of the techs replied, barely looking around. He was focused on his work. Gabriela decided that his lack of deference was acceptable since he was doing Master Jake's bidding. She really didn't like it when Master's friends weren't treated with the deference that they deserved.

She looked down at the auction stage and saw Bethany being led in chains into the spotlight. She knew Bethany! Bethany was her friend!

Bethany was wearing an extravagant array of ridiculously-shiny chains as she was led across the stage by three of the Big D's burliest slave wranglers. The had put enough chains on her to secure a giant-ass buffalo or something, not a 115-pound slave girl. It was blatant theatrics of an obvious and ridiculous sort.

On the wall above Bethany were three giant screens. One was the familiar bidding screen that had destroyed Gabriela's life just an hour or two prior. Gabbie felt a sudden urge to check the clock on her phone, but she didn't need to see what time it was. Time no longer had any meaning to her. She was a slave now, and slaves did what they were told when they were told to do it. Timekeeping was for suckers.... I mean Masters.

Gabbie smirked in the darkness, then looked around guiltily to see if anyone was looking. She had made a joke, if only to herself. She didn't want anyone to know, she might be punished. Her bottom already hurt. It couldn't get worse than that, could it?

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to tonight's big reveal. We are here to SELL... or SAVE Bethany! Here, say hello to the crowd, sweetie. Look how brave she is. Bethany has put her freedom on the line to save the sea turtles, we can all respect and admire that..."

"So, if "Save Bethany" gets the most votes, she goes home tonight?" Master asked.

"Basically, yeah. Seems like a pretty close race, though, it could go either way. Honestly, I thought that this idea would almost always end up with the girl not being sold, but it's really a 50-50 proposition. The reason is that the fans can also vote against her. Josh did some research - and the university did a study - and they found that's the most common result. It has something to do with psychological something or other. People are competitive. I guarantee there's just as many "Sell Bethany" supporters as there are "Save Bethany" voters. It really is a game of chance."

This seemed interesting to Gabriele, but in her exhausted state, she wasn't able to think very clearly. What she did understand was that one screen had a big blue letters that said "Save Bethany" on it. Beneath the lettering was a dollar figure. As long as that number stayed higher than the leading bid to buy her, Bethany would be set free. The auction price currently stood at $120K for a three-year indenture. That was not unreasonable for a Prime pleasure slave. The thing that worried Gabriela about the auction board was that ALL of the top bidders' icons were known to her. They were high-volume whorehouses that bought large numbers of attractive girls, used them up, and tossed them aside. The stakes were even higher than Gabbie realized! Bethany almost certainly had no clue about who wanted to buy her. As an attractive minor celebrity, she would certainly be in high demand and be required to sexually service multiple men all day, every day. It wasn't looking good.

If Gabriela DID still have her phone, she knew she would be reaching for it to vote right now. Bethany seemed to be a sweet girl in spite of her selfie obsession. But Gabriela did NOT have her phone, she was powerless to do anything other than stand and witness yet another girl's destruction... or salvation.

The big blue "Save Bethany" total was currently at about $127K, but it fluctuated up and down as the time limit approached the cutoff point and the online voters battled over Bethany's freedom. Over time, though, Team Save Bethany was slowly losing ground. All it would take is a single large donation to the Sea Turtle Foundation for her to lose the vote.

Looking down into the arena seating, Gabriela could see the glow of hundreds of cell phones in the dim light. She wondered how many of them were entertaining themselves by joining Team Sell Bethany? Bethany wasn't going to make it. She was leaving this room branded AND collared. Her bright future was looking increasingly dim.

Gabriela's heart went out to the girl, still smiling bravely as her chance at freedom rapidly melted away. Gabbie wanted to shout, stamp her feet, to do something. But she was powerless, collared, and leashed. Maybe Master could save Bethany, too? "Master..." she began tentatively, "isn't there..."

"Hush, pet," he whispered, "it's already taken care of."

Bethany's defenders struggled mightily. She really did have a strong online following who loved her. But they were steadily losing ground as time ran out... "Bing!"

The bidding board on the left, which had remained static for some time, suddenly updated. Bidder A9 had appeared and bid $160K. The crowd below erupted in cheers as Mr. Do leaned back from his laptop and blew a self-satisfied cloud of cigar smoke at the ceiling.

"Nice timing, Joe," Master Jake congratulated him.

Master Do chuckled, he was obviously VERY pleased with himself. "I decided not to leave it to chance. With some of these influencer girls, I don't really care. But I LIKE this one. I think she would be perfect for my son. Did you notice that she's half-Vietnamese? So is my son, so that's a start. I'll send her to the same school as your girl, it'll be fun. Oo! I have to tell my wife, she'll be excited."

Gabriela watched with tears in her eyes as down on the stage, the timer went to all zeroes and Bethany's brave façade finally crumbled. She started sobbing and would have fallen if the two burly slave handlers on either side hadn't grabbed her arms. They lowered her to her knees on the stage, and she bowed her head in either submission or grief. This was her fate; she had gambled and lost. At least the sea turtles would be safer now. The third wrangler came up behind her and removed her pink grading collar, replacing it with a black slave collar. Bethany the minor celebrity no longer existed. Only slave 4513 remained.

The announcer approached the kneeling girl and held out his mic. "So, a very successful auction!" he exclaimed. "You raised almost five hundred thousand dollars for the sea turtle rescue fund. How do you feel about that?"

Bethany raised a tear-stained face, choking back a sob. "Umm..." she said plaintively. "I'm glad for the sea turtles. I really just want them to be happy and safe. And I want to thank my fans for supporting me, you were really nice. I'll be back some day, and we'll have... I don't know, stuff to do?"

Master Justin turned away from the tragic scene and led slave 5993 away. "I'll meet you down by the docks," he called over his shoulder.

Master Do waved at him in acknowledgement as he spoke animatedly on the phone, presumably with his wife.

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

Shipping: FOB Destination

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

As Master led Gabriela into the shipping department, they were approached by Otis Keller, the shipping supervisor.

"Mr. Bellefleur, it's been a long time, good to see you," he greeted him. He seemed genuinely happy to see him, but his eyes shifted uncomfortably back and forth between the man and his slave, searching their faces for a cue on how to react. Otis had always been kind and helpful to Gabriela when she came down here on business, and she could see that he was having a difficult time seeing her in under these circumstances. In his line of work, he did occasionally come across people he knew who had been enslaved, so it couldn't be a new experience for him. Nevertheless, some folks never got used to it, especially if it was someone they knew well and really liked.

One of the things that Gabriele had finally had to come to accept about the slavery profession was that being an attractive young woman wasn't a benefit, it was a liability. In every other walk of life, pretty girls got positive reactions and special treatment. But not here. Not in the slavery business.

Otis was an exception to the rule, though. He was unfailingly friendly, respectful, and he always had a supply of icy cold water bottles. He treated her like a fond uncle, and he was clearly embarrassed at seeing her slave naked, collared, and leashed. He finally decided to treat Gabriela like she was invisible.

"What can I do for you, sir?" he asked, focused solely on Mr. Bellefleur.

"My slave needs food and water, let's get her settled in. Joe bought a new slave, too, and we're shipping them out together. He told me you have a new two-girl flatpack that you're testing out and Jake wants to see it in action."