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Southwest Shipping - Part 11

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ElJefe
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Southwest Shipping - Part 11

Post by ElJefe »

Just when you thought you had this all figured out...


Southwest Shipping

Natalie squatted over the drain, holding her lips open to minimize the mess. Too late, she realized that she was facing the hallway so that passers-by could look right between her legs as they passed. One more humiliation. Although some of the frightened slaves stared in horror, most of the handlers barely gave her a glance.

She rose and tried to act like she hadn't just peed like an animal, thinking about her situation. No matter what happened, she'd have to do her turn on the auction block. If she was going home, that would be something to look back and laugh at, and perhaps to share with someone who was very close to her. On the other hand, if she was well and truly fucked (and fucked over by Will), how she lived for the next eight years might be determined by what the buyers thought of her. Dammit, this was so fucked up. All that education and hard work going to waste while she worked as a common whore for eight whole years?

The more desirable you are, the higher a price you command, and the better a job you get when you get bought.

In less than an hour, she had to transform from Harvard MBA and investment banker into the most desirable fuck bunny in Houston. How the hell was she going to pull that off? She had a nice face and a nice body, but not one that would launch a thousand ships. Worse, she had never tried to use her sexuality to get ahead, to close a deal. That kind of thing disgusted her, even though "sex sells" was a reality in the marketplace. If a woman wanted to use her body that way, getting paid for her appearance, that was fine, but up to now, that had never been Natalie's way.

Up to now.

55 20 approached, tall, toned, confident, well, at least confident on the outside. Now that she knew how the woman really felt, she could see that 55 20 was quaking on the inside. Natalie was tall, but this woman well overtopped her. She wondered if 55 20 had played sports in school.

"So, ah, you kind of helped me out back there, I was wondering if we could maybe help each other out again." Natalie wondered if 55 20 had some kind of feelings for her, or if she just wanted to distract herself from the terror of her impending fate with some last minute sex.

Natalie pointed to herself, then held up a palm, drew a dollar sign on it with her finger, pointed down the hall, and shrugged.

55 20 stared for a moment, then figured it out. "Yeah. Get your pussy wet...get our pussies wet, you get a better price. I want it dripping down my leg when I go out there. You, too. Someone be fucking you for some time, you might as well advertise what you got."

Natalie leaned in for a kiss while the black woman caressed her butt.

"Just don't screw up your make up. Or mine. It's all about how you look. I'd be licking your pussy and sticking it in your face if it wasn't for that." She pulled Natalie over to the bench and sat, her face just below Natalie's breasts. "I won't mess up your hair, either. Now give me those titties."

Natalie and 55 20 rutted while the other three women stared. Natalie felt warm, this wasn't really her choice, she had to do this. She had to have Lesbian sex with a complete stranger in front of three other strangers. It's not personal. It's strictly business. But her business had become very personal, indeed.

Natalie was on her back, her head hanging over the end of the bench (can't mess up the hair!), 55 20 suckling her, and their fingers frantically mauling each other's gashes when she heard the sound of keys at the door, the sound of the gate swinging open.

"55 20, time to go. Back hands!"

55 20 pulled away, and Natalie saw sadness, sadness that she felt herself. They had shared this absurd intimacy, sharing their vulnerability with each other, and now they must part, probably forever. Natalie knew she would never forget the woman, her courage, her passion, or her fear.

"Good luck," she croaked.

"You, too, Baby Doll. Get top dollar."

They shared a last kiss, all to brief, then 55 20 rose, crossed the little cell, and turned to face Natalie again, her wrists crossed behind her back as the handler cuffed them. They held each other's glance as the handler snapped on a lead, not breaking it until he took 55 20 by the arm and led her off to her fate.

55 20s juices still on her fingers, Natalie plunged them into her own honeypot, then quickly withdrew them and started smearing that wetness and her own on her inner thigh. God forbid, you ever end up on a block, you want to leave a trail of pussy juice from one end of it to the other. She wished the stuff just came in a bottle, she'd coat herself in the slime if that was what it took to get a good buyer. But of course there was no such thing, that was the point of it all. Every little bit of pussy juice had to be secreted by someone, one horny, aching drop at a time. She began stroking herself, fantasizing about that night Will had come to her apartment. He might be a dick, but his dick was nice that night. If he came to save her, she'd let him ravish her body for a week. Maybe more.

One of the other three women advanced on her, slowly, trembling. Their eyes met. I'm sorry I have to Jill off in front of you. It's not personal. It's strictly business. Her body was rounder than the others, probably not sent to "obedience school" or whatever they did to slim down pleasure slaves. Trembling as if she'd never been sold, either. She slowly reached down to Natalie's body, daring herself to touch the attractive brunette as she lie masturbating.

Natalie gave the woman a barely perceptible nod. It's ok. It's just business. You don't have a choice, you're a slave. I don't have a choice, either. She touched Natalie's breast, and Natalie pulled her to her, groping her, using her to fuel her own lust even as the woman used Natalie to fuel hers. She felt fingers inside her, and they weren't her own. A third set of fluids coated her own fingers.

She heard something rapping on the bars. "Hate to break up your party, but 63 28 needs to get her ass out here. Time to make some money."

"Good luck." Was her voice coming back? She wondered what would come first, the gavel of her sale or her ability to speak.

Round and Comfortable mouthed something back. Natalie couldn't make it out, but understood the sentiment behind it. You, too, sister. You, too. She rose. I didn't even get that one's number.

Cuffs ratcheted onto her wrists. "You're looking good. Ready to make some money, Prime?"

It seemed unfair. She had some status even among the lowest of the low. Prime. What would it be like to be sold as one of the lower grades? Her body ached for release as she was guided down the aisles to the block. She wondered if she could somehow fuck the auctioneer, would that bring her grade up? What would her price be if she could make him moan while he shot his load into her?

Would that satisfy him? Pussy wants to know.

You want to leave a trail of pussy juice...

They halted. Somehow, she knew the arena was just beyond that door. Not-Miguel stooped to bring his head to her level, his hand on her ass, kneading her flesh.

"Hey, slave cunt. Yeah, I'm talking to you." She started to turn to him, but he took her chin in his other hand. "No, straight ahead. You are the finest, most desirable pussy in this whole building." His right arm encircled her, that hand moving around to her front, gliding over her belly, down to her sensitive nub. "Someone inside there is going to buy that pussy. They're going to own it, use it for whatever they want." Damn, he was good. Natalie knew she wasn't the first woman he'd pleasured that way. "They want that pussy, they're going to have to pay for it. Spread your legs." She widened her stance as his hand now covered her entire sex. "You make them pay for every dick that goes inside you, every cock that you suck, every pussy that you lick. They want you, they can have you, you can't stop that. But you can stand tall, strut like the slave cunt queen that you are, and you can make them pay for the privilege." He slapped a plate on the wall beside the door, and she peered inside as the door opened.

She heard the auctioneer go into his spiel as the doors opened. "Next up is lot 22, Caucasian female, 31 years old, university education, speaks English, recently enslaved, no previous owners, rated Prime Minus with excellent bids and reviews. This slave has not been trained, buuut...HCI can arrange training through our own top-rate obedience school at a discount. Slave, step into the white circle so our international bidders can get a good look at you!"

Her handler had been unlocking her cuffs as the auctioneer spoke. He held her wrists in one hand, and slapped her ass with the other. "Now, go out there and make everybody proud. You're Prime, and don't you forget it." Her wrists freed, she trotted onto the platform, smiling, waving to the bidders in tiered seats around the platform, breasts jiggling, butt still smarting from his insult. Time for battle.

Overhead spotlights blinded her as she stepped into the circle painted on the floor, no longer able to see the bidders or what they were doing.

"Turn around, Sweetie. Nice and slow, let everybody see what you have."

What to do? Sexy. This would be the classy part of her act. She put her arms over her head and slowly turned in place, hips gyrating as she did so. When her back got to the audience, she glanced demurely over her shoulder, slowly wiggling her butt from side to side as she turned. You want this, she thought. You want it, bad.

"Present!" She thrust her bust out, mouthing the lewd words that she couldn't say, fingers laced behind her head, still smiling. You can play with these. For a price.

"Squat!" She lowered herself to the floor, buttocks to her heels, her thighs parted painfully. Her pussy throbbed, she knew she was displaying herself to an audience around the world. Did the camera catch her juices glistening on her leg? Did those lips gape open, showing her pink canal to interested buyers? She hoped they did, as humiliating as that was.

"Stand and turn!" She faced away from the audience, cocking her hips just so to show off her ass, looking over her shoulder again but making eye contact this time.

"Display!" This was one of the more lewd positions, folding herself at the waist to display everything that was visible from behind. She was supposed to look between her legs at her Master behind her, but she cheated, putting her feet a bit farther apart for balance, and swinging to the side to peer out from behind her leg at the buyers, winking at them, still unseen in the bright lights over head. She wondered if the next command would be...

"Spread your cheeks!" Of course. Wasn't the chant for Display, "All my holes are available for you, Master"? She was being bought for the use of her holes. Why shouldn't the customer be able to examine the merchandise? She brought her fingertips over her labia to part them as much as she could. Drip, damn pussy, drip!

"Inspection!" She turned and faced the audience, head down, eyes on the floor, hands at her side. This displayed her docility. Of course she'd take orders, hadn't she proven that? Natalie grew frustrated, this wasn't a good position to make the buyers overbid.

"You can see from your buyer's sheet that lot 22 has excellent muscle control. To demonstrate that, we have a special challenge for this slave."

Her handler appeared from the side, smirking, carrying a flesh-colored dildo mounted to some sort of base. He placed it dead center of the circle at her feet while she stared at the plastic on the floor, taking in the weirdness of it all. Under different circumstances, she'd have burst out laughing at how ridiculous it was. It stood up from the stage, daring her. Was this real? Was this a fantasy? She was about to fuck a dildo on stage in front of an audience. It would have been daunting enough if she knew it was just part of some grading package, with a "simulated auction experience" thrown in for a very daring young woman. But knowing that her fate might depend not on just whether she debased herself in this way, but on how well she did so was terrifying. It would be easier to just drop to the floor on her back, splay her legs, and touch herself while yelling, "Fuck me, Master! Buy me and fuck your needy slave's cunt!", touching herself until she came. As humiliating at that would be, she could do that. This was something else.

"...and there it is. All she has to do is pick it up without using her hands. What do you say, sweetheart? We know you practice your Kegels. Think you can pick it up for us?"

There was no way. She could feel her wetness oozing out of her. If someone put it inside her, it would easily slip right out from its own weight. She felt set up to fail, no matter how willing, how horny, how slutty, this task was beyond her.

But she couldn't refuse. That would be even worse than trying and failing. Slaves don't refuse. It may have been couched as a suggestion, an offer she could refuse, but she knew her price would plummet if she balked. She decided that she would try and try again, bobbing up and down on the false penis, touching herself until either she came or they told her to stop. She would fail spectacularly, publicly, even at humiliating herself, at performing as a fuck toy. But that was preferable to being a slave who refused.

She smiled, nodding vigorously at the auctioneer. I'm as game as Ned Kelley. But inside, she knew she was fucked, no matter how confidently she acted.

She maneuvered into position, feet on either side of the dong. All she had to do was squat, like she had just done moments ago, and impale herself, getting it inside her. Then squeeze. Then...lower herself again, trying and trying until it was obvious there was no length she wouldn't go to in order to please her Master.

It pressed against her opening. It looked to be about Will's size, about as long, maybe a bit bigger around. Of course. It was a fantasy penis, the organ every man wished he had but very few did. Not enormous, not tiny, just...porn star size, maybe. She lowered herself, hands on her hips, feeding it into her hole.

Ah, oh, that wasn't good. Slick as she was, it didn't want to go in. Why was it so uncomfortable? She forced herself down on it, gritting her teeth through her phony smile.

Oh. That was it. It was a trick. They'd coated the damn thing with that same stickum stuff that they used on tennis racket handles. She squeezed. It would hurt just as much coming out as it went going in. She straightened her legs, lifting herself. It came up with her, feeling surprisingly light inside.

"How about that! Graded Prime minus and available for sale! Do I hear 50,50,55,55,60..."

The handler returned, Natalie really looking at him for the first time. He could be Dan's older brother, if Dan was four inches taller and worked out. The man stood between her and the audience, his back to them.

"Put your hands on my shoulder. Brace yourself. This is like taking a band aid off, it's over quick."

She felt his hands at her entrance, and grasped his shoulders for dear life. Ah, shit, that hurt! Her whole vagina stung, worst dildo ever.

"Put your smile back on, come on, you did it, it's not that bad. You did great, someone really nice is going to buy you, be proud." He walked away, making a show of sniffing the thing for her scent. She clasped her hands together, laying her cheek on her folded hands as if swooning for a lover, ad libbing along with him. Then she plastered her fake smile on her face again, waving to the crowd and acting thrilled as the bids climbed higher and higher. Well, there wasn't that much acting talent required. She sincerely hoped the guy buying the graduation present was outbid. Him and the Whips n Chains guys.

She wasn't sure what the final bid was...the damned auctioneer talked so fast!...but was sure it was well into six figures.

Less than she'd made last year. And that was mostly from her portfolio, she'd been "between projects" most of that time as she completed the sale of her last company and did her search to find the opportunity with Will here in Houston.

She heard the loud clack! of the gavel, a sound she felt in her nipples and groin as much as heard with her ears. One way or another, she was going to be fucked. Either she would give herself to Will tonight until he could do no more, or she was headed to a life of being fucked by...somebody...for the next several years.

Natalie looked around. What was...oh, there was a door opening, and someone beckoning her offstage. She trotted off, smiling, still waving to her new owner, whoever that person might be.

————————————————————

Natalie was met offstage by yet another handler who ordered her to "Back Hands", cuffed her, and led her with a leash to a much larger cage, P12. This one held five women including 55 20 and four others that she didn't recognize, all kneeling in the "Down" position. After the handler left, they rose, and Natalie embraced 55 20. "I missed...hey, I'm getting my voice back!" Her voice was breathy and cracked, but it was more than a croak.

55 20 reassured her. "Sh. Just take it easy. And here, have some water. You have to wash that shit off your vocal cords. I think they gave you the long-acting kind, that shit takes hours to get rid of. Just don't try to shout for the next hour and you'll be fine."

Natalie took a long pull of water and rubbed 55 20's back. "I wasn't sure if I would see you again. How'd it go out there?"

"I think I'm going to be a horsey again. It sucks, but at least they take good care of you. I think it has to be that, 'cause my price was kinda high. I'm trained."

She turned around and slapped her butt. Natalie could see a horizontal line with a circle under it, and ran her fingers over the ridged brand.

"Circle Bar Ranch. They cared enough about me to brand my ass. Just hope I don't have to get another one, those things hurt like a motherfucker."

"What's your name?" They'd shared slave sex, she felt she owed the woman a name.

"Midnight. So original, right? Not my first stereotype. Oh, my real name is Jordan. Jordan Johnson. But when I have a horse tail up my ass, I'm Midnight."

"Jordan, I'm Natalie..."

"They're coming!" One of the other women stage-whispered a warning, and the others dropped to the hard floor in the "Down" position. Natalie soon followed, thinking they must have some reason and not wanting to stand out.

Natalie recognized the new arrival as one of the women from the cage she'd shared with Jordan before being sold, a Hispanic woman with blond highlights, distraught at some turn of events. Natalie thought she was just stunned at being sold, who wouldn't be? Natalie and one of the others gave her a hug, reassuring her. After a few moments, she calmed down and paired off with another Hispanic, the two women sitting on one of the plastic benches and speaking Spanish.

She returned to Jordan. "Hey, why does everyone Down when they open the door?"

She shrugged. "Guy told me we's all sold slaves now, we better act like it. That door opens, he wants us on our knees, spread to show our pussies, head down and shut up. Said he'd give us pops on our ass if we didn't. Pretty much the same as last time I was sold."

Natalie frowned. "I need to talk to someone. There might be something screwed up with my sale, one of the management guys said he'd look into it."

"You can always ask for permission to speak. 'May this slave speak', you know? You get a good price?"

"I'm not sure. I heard one-55, but I kind of zoned out. It was at least that high."

"Damn, girl, somebody wanted your ass. I got one-ten, and I'm a trained pony girl with a brand on her butt. You probably going to be some rich guy's eye candy."

"Well, I don't think I should be anyone's eye candy, but that's what he was going to check."

Jordan just stared at her for a moment. "I don't want to jinx your shit, so I just ain't gonna say nothing."

A female handler brought Round and Comfortable to the cage, Natalie dutifully kneeling with the others. She decided to speak up.

"Mistress, may this slave speak?"

"I ain't your mistress, you call me Ma'am. And what do you want, make it snappy."

"Mr. Murdoch said there was an irregularity with my sale that could cause it to be canceled and that he would let me know. Can you tell me what he found?"

The handler paused, thinking for a moment. "Suppose I should check, just to be sure I've got you in the right cage. You're‒‒ ", she waved a scanning rod over Natalie's chest, "63 28. Yeah, I'll ask." She smirked. "Wait here."

Jordan approached after the handler left. "At least you didn't get your ass beat."

Natalie shrugged. "It can't hurt to try."

The same handler who had escorted Natalie offstage brought the young blond who had been sold to keep a roof over her family's head. She stared straight ahead as she was pushed into the cage and uncuffed. As soon as the door closed behind her, she sank to the floor, sobbing. Two of the women sat beside her, trying to comfort her. Jordan and Natalie squatted by her as well, rubbing her shoulders and giving hugs.

"I just screwed up everything. I couldn't save Mom, I couldn't get a job, I'm such a fuck up."

"Breathe, Baby, you're no worse off than anyone here. What happened out there?"

"I tried not to cry. I did everything he said, I even spread my butt open so everyone could see...all my stuff. I didn't cry until they guy banged his hammer and said 'Sold!'"

"You did everything you could."

Another woman offered, "You have nothing to be ashamed of. We all had to go out there."

"How much did you get? You think it's going to be enough?"

The blond shook her head. "I don't know. He just...he talked so fast. I think I heard 80, I don't know if I got that much or not."

"80's good."

"More than I got."

Natalie asked, "How much did your mother need?"

The blond answered, "I think she needed at least another 50. I don't know."

Jordan got into her face. "Hey!" When the blond looked up at her, she continued. "You did what you had to do. They're going to be ok. Your sister is going to go to school, and when you get done, they're going to come get you. Be proud. You did what they couldn't do."

They shared a hug, and the blond calmed after that.

"She's coming!"

Natalie knelt, scooting back to leave enough room for the door to swing open.

"63 28?"

Natalie looked up at "Ma'am", maybe a couple of years younger than she was, wearing a maroon HCI shirt and khaki trousers. "Yes, Ma'am?"

"Good news and bad news. He says you're not a liar, so you don't get your 20 swats." She smirked. "That would have been something to see. And he checked over all the paperwork, and everything is in order. Your sale is final. He said if you had any more questions, I was to explain to you what it meant to be a slave until you shut the fuck up. Am I going to have to round up some of the boys and drag you off and do that?"

"No, Ma'am. This slave is grateful for Mr. Murdoch's diligence. And thank you for checking." Well, shit.

Jordan sat with Natalie after "Ma'am" left. "I heard." Well, of course, every slave in the cage had heard.

"I don't think it's hit me yet. I mean, I know I'm sitting here completely nude with a collar around my neck, but it's like any minute someone is going to come get me and take me up front to get dressed and go home. It's just not real."

"It'll get real soon enough. So, what the fuck happened?"

"I came in this morning to get graded. It was for a FINO contract, I wasn't sure I was going to do it, but I had to get graded first anyway. So, my business partner brought me in, and I guess he sold me. I don't know why, it doesn't make any sense. I brought the money to the business, he just brought his expertise. On paper, we own the same amount. But it's just paper money until we launch. I don't understand. He sold me for one-55, and if he'd have brought me home, in a month he'd be worth one point three mill."

"Girl, did you say one point three million?"

Natalie nodded. "Yeah. We got investors from all over the country. Nobody gets in for less than 600 k. This'll all go bust if my ass is off somewhere sucking some guy's cock. We got one woman from California who's in for over five million. I'd like to see him explain this shit to her."

Jordan shook her head. "That is so fucked up."

"Thing is, I investigated the shit out of him before we got started. All the inquiries came back, he's super clean, very honest, a real boy scout. He used to work in management here."

Jordan's eyes bulged. "Here?"

"Yeah, how about that? He worked his way up from the floor, quit his management job here to work with me, then he turned around and sold my ass and slit his own throat in the process. I just don't get it."

"Life is strange, girl friend. One day, you're just hanging out chilling with your man, the next you're dressed up like a horse eating pussy."

"Eating pussy? I thought you said there were stallions?"

"I had a groom, she was a woman. Every night, I had to go down on her before I got my 'oats'. Then, if I was a good horsey, they'd take me out once every week or two to get fucked by some stud. I don't know if it was the same one every time or a different one every time or what. I think different ones, though. They way they moved, the way their dicks felt inside me, it was just...different."

Natalie stared at her for a moment, then grinned and whinnied.

"You asshole!" Jordan gave her a shove, but she was grinning, too.

When they stopped laughing, Natalie gave her a side hug. "I'm going to miss you. I wish we could do this slave thing together, it would be easier."

"Come on down to the ranch. I'll get your asshole stretched open for a tail. You know they got tails that vibrate, tails that can tell when you come..."

"No way!"

"You be making the call of the pony girl, too. EEEEEiigh!"

More women were brought to the cage, and after a while some were removed. At one point, there were at least a dozen in there, although it could have clearly held more. Natalie spotted a pattern, the women who had been there when she was brought to the cage were the first to leave. If that held up, she wouldn't have much more time with Jordan, and she said as much. They held each other close after that. A pair of women across the cage started having sex, and Natalie regretted that she and Jordan hadn't gone at it one last time.

Someone was at the door, and all the women dropped kneeling to the floor, Natalie side by side with Jordan. Instead of resting their hands palms up on their thighs like they were supposed to, the salt and pepper pair held hands.

"55 20, Back Hands!" Natalie squeezed, this was probably the last time they would see each other. Jordan presented herself, wrists crossed behind her back, her orange mane towering over the handler. As she was cuffed, she pawed the floor with her right foot and winked at Natalie. Then she was led away, muscles rippling under her chocolate skin. Natalie followed the bar and circle brand on her backside as she walked out of sight.

Natalie thought she would be next, and before long her suspicions were confirmed. Yet another handler picked her up, cuffed her hands behind her back, and led her away on a leash to "Shipping". A sign on a door read, "Outbound Medical", and she was ushered inside.

She was left with an attractive man in scrubs, his short red beard matching his hair, who scanned her chest.

"63 28, you're not going to give me any trouble, are you?"

"No, sir." At first she felt at ease in the space, at least HCI cared enough about its inventory to examine their health. Then she decided that they were just probably trying to limit claims for merchandise damaged in shipment. If she ever got out of here in time to save Southwest Shipping, that was something they'd have to do as well.

"So, you just got processed in today? Fresh photos, oh, they just got your thumbprints. Let me get the rest. We can skip blood, urine, and DNA, too, that saves time."

After he scanned her fingerprints, the questions began.

"Last menstrual period?"

"I'm on the three week plan, uh, probably last January."

"When did you last eat?"

"Last night. I skipped breakfast to get here early. I was getting graded."

"You haven't eaten all day?" She shook her head.

"We've got to get some kibble in you. Let's see, we've got to get your ass flushed and plugged for the trip, so I'll get you fed as soon as we're done here and maybe you can have a good shit when you're flushed. When did you last pee?"

"Um, it was just a little bit before my auction."

He checked something on a monitor. "Sold at one oh three pm. Just pee before they load you, else you'll have to sit in your own pee during the ride. When did you last have sex?"

"Uh, what kind of sex? I kind of made out with another slave before I was sold."

"You guys finger bang? Or was it a male?"

"It was a woman."

"Yeah, don't fuck male slaves without permission. You'll both get your asses beat. Last penetration by a male?"

"Last night."

He smiled. "Oh, so horny before a grading?"

She blushed. "Well, it wasn't exactly like that."

"It never is. Last time you had anal sex?"

"Last night."

"Yeah, it's never exactly like that. Sorry, didn't mean to tease. I'm sure there'll be plenty more anal in your future. Ok, stand up, hands out at your sides, feet about...there, that far apart. I'm looking you over for tattoos, scars, marks. Any piercings?"

"Just my ears. Uh, I had a belly button piercing, but it closed up."

He went over her anatomy in some detail, but there was little to catalog. Natalie had thought about getting tatted, but never had been able to find an image that was so uniquely her that she felt comfortable with making it permanent.

"You're in pretty good health. I want you to bend over the table, I got some shots to give you and they're going to go in the butt."

Natalie sighed and assumed the position. "Sir, do you know where I'm going?"

He jabbed her, and she winced. "First stop is the big D."

The medic summoned a handler with his tablet, and instructed him to "give her a bowl of kibble and put her last in line for the four o'clock run, maybe she can shit during the fill and drain."

The handler took her to a small cage like the one where she'd waited during the breaks in her "extended display", leaving her cuffed. He returned with a double bowl arrangement similar to the one used to feed pets, one bowl filled with dry cereal and the other with water.

"Never been owned before? Time you learned to eat like a slave. Just stick your face in it and go to town. Don't worry about your makeup, it's going to get washed off anyway. Oh, and it better all be gone when I get back, I don't clean up slave's leftovers."

With her hands cuffed, Natalie had no choice other than to kneel, lower her head, and eat like an animal, tossing her head from time to time to keep her hair out of the food as best she could. The kibble was unbearably dry and bland, and she struggled to get it down. When she tried to wash it down with swallows of water, she found that worked much better, and worked to finish all the tasteless chow before the man returned. She didn't know what the punishment was for being a picky eater, and she didn't want to find out.

Even though she hadn't eaten, there was so much of the feed that her belly was full when she swallowed the last few crumbs. She drank, stood and stretched, then knelt and drank again.

Time crawled as she waited for the handler to return. He inspected her dish, apparently satisfied since he didn't apply any punishment. He leashed her and guided her to an area marked "Outbound Washdown".

There were no showers. She was uncuffed, but before she could get comfortable her hands were recuffed in front and hoisted high by a hook. A grinning young man, looking fresh out of high school, soaped and sprayed her with a gun, then scrubbed her body with harsh, green soap and a stiff brush. Although he seemed on a schedule, he took as much time to grope her as he could. He sprayed her with depilatory foam, which was ridiculous as she'd just been waxed a few days ago. The foam stung and burned until he rinsed it off, leaving her skin pink where it had been applied.

He approached with a nozzle on a hose, and then she found that the nozzle was going there, and she protested. Why did everything that went up her ass have to be so big? Her belly bulged and ached as it was filled. She was lowered and led to a row of three toilets sitting in the open in the middle of the room, and plopped down on one to empty just as another nude woman was removed from another. She doubted that any of the kibble had passed all the way through her, but aside from the possibility of a humiliating leak, she thought she could handle a trip of several hours without needing to empty her bowels again.

However, it seemed that HCI took no chances. After a blast from the sprayer between her legs ("Saves on toilet paper!"), she was made to put her cuffed hands on the wall and "put your feet back and spread". Something else was worked up her back passage, thankfully smaller, and she was told to "bend over and move around, make yourself comfortable." As she bent over, sticking her ass out, the thing in her butt began beeping and expanding. She did an odd little dance, moving around so that the intruder could seat itself within her, wishing she could reach back to move it around, her cuffs preventing her from doing so. Finally, the thing stopped growing. She could feel a small part sticking out her hole, barely stretching her, and a much larger part within, something she could never pass unless it deflated or shrunk, or whatever it did to expand and contract. It was obvious that she'd never expel anything again until the plug was removed. Still dripping, she was run through a multiple dryer arrangement similar to the one the slaves used at Southwest Shipping to dry themselves every day. The one at HCI didn't seem to work any better.

After her cuffs were moved from front to back again, her next stop was a room with boxes, steel tables, and printers. A woman scanned her chest and printed out a sticker that was placed on a blue plastic tab, the tab then attached to Natalie's collar.

"Don't even think of losing that tag," the woman warned. "If you get caught, first you'll kneel by the side of the road for hours while they sort things out. Then, if someone decides you're at fault, you're looking at a federal judicial enslavement."

Natalie was taken to a loading dock, where a line of women were connected by chains linking their collars. She was thrilled to see Jordan near the front of the line, and Natalie was attached to the opposite end, apparently the last in line. Some men were nearby, talking to a gaggle of HCI employees. Then one of the HCI types rolled up a large garage door to reveal a truck trailer backed up to it, and one of the other men opened the doors on the trailer.

Inside, all the surfaces were white save for a row of black wire waist-high cages with blue floors on either side of a center aisle. My ride's here. At least it seemed clean. One by one, each woman was unlinked from the coffle, walked inside, made to crawl into a cage and locked inside, uncuffed, and turned for a photograph which was checked against a printed shipping bill that went into a holder on the side of her cage. Natalie got the last cage on the right, and found that although she could poke a finger between the wires, getting enough of her hand through to even touch that printed sheet was impossible. It wasn't difficult to read the bill for the woman across the aisle:

Item: 281-61-0141
Shipper: HCI Transport Services, Houston, TX
Owner: The Girl Factory, Dallas, TX
From: HCI Auctions, Houston, TX
To: Big D Slave Market, Dallas, TX (hold for pickup)
Description: Indentured Slave, Female, Age 25
Weight: 140 lbs
Notes: LIVE ANIMAL!
Notes: No allergies
Notes: No medications

The photo matched the girl in the box.
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Re: Southwest Shipping - Part 11

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I particularly appreciate your ability to reproduce her thoughts and feelings while she's being sold, right down to comparing the dildo to the size of her owner/boyfriend's cock. Fantastic, as usual.
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Re: Southwest Shipping - Part 11

Post by ZeeChromosome »

Dang, what a turn of events. At least she wasn't sold overseas. I'm interested in finding out what "The Girl Factory" is.

Also, she was sold for 8 years of slavery for less than she earned the previous year! Now that's a downfall.
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Re: Southwest Shipping - Part 11

Post by Malvis »

What a great story, taking your time letting us look through her mind. Wonderful!

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Re: Southwest Shipping - Part 11

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"Just when you thought you had this all figured out", indeed.

Yet another wonderful aspect of this story is that by telling it largely from Natalie's point of view, we, the reader, suffer from the same deficit of information that our heroine must endure. "The Girl Factory", sounds like they make sex dolls or pet food. Is Will orchestrating this, or has he lost control? Is Natalies going to be "processed" in some way, perhaps for export?

Being a slave girl, Natalie doesn't know, and neither do we.

This was another great chapter. Natalie has learned that once the collar is locked around your throat and you're in the queue, it doesn't matter if your worth $2.6 million or how much you made last year. You are pussy to be sold, and, as the HCI manager so eloquently put it, "you will go to the block."

The paradox is that the more educated, wealthy, and intelligent a woman is, the more difficult it becomes for them to comprehend what it would be like to be naked on an auction block, with a bimbo grin of their silly faces, squatting with their legs spread wide as they finger themselves for the bidder's entertainment. Perhaps it's the depth of the fall that makes it hard to imagine what the bottom will feel like when they hit. I'll leave it to Belinda to comment on whether it's something that she can comprehend, or it is something she would really need to experience.

The good news is that 713-54-6328 went through without a hitch, and the manager at HCI has checked her paperwork. Everything is in order, and her sale is final. Better yet, she's on her way to The Big D. As the original chronicler of this famed market, I can assure you there is no better place for a slave girl to understand that she is nothing more than livestock. Whether she is polishing a yellow bollard in the front of the store, rolling in the sand under the crack of the whip, or eating orange slime out of a trough, the little sows status as a farm animal will be reinforced 24/7. Happy Trails, & Bon Appetite, slave girl.
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Re: Southwest Shipping - Part 11

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"Just when you thought you had this all figured out", indeed.

Yet another wonderful aspect of this story is that by telling it largely from Natalie's point of view, we, the reader, suffer from the same deficit of information that our heroine must endure. "The Girl Factory", sounds like they make sex dolls or pet food. Is Will orchestrating this, or has he lost control? Is Natalies going to be "processed" in some way, perhaps for export?

Being a slave girl, Natalie doesn't know, and neither do we.

This was another great chapter. Natalie has learned that once the collar is locked around your throat and you're in the queue, it doesn't matter if your worth $2.6 million or how much you made last year. You are pussy to be sold, and, as the HCI manager so eloquently put it, "you will go to the block."

The paradox is that the more educated, wealthy, and intelligent a woman is, the more difficult it becomes for them to comprehend what it would be like to be naked on an auction block, with a bimbo grin of their silly faces, squatting with their legs spread wide as they finger themselves for the bidder's entertainment. Perhaps it's the depth of the fall that makes it hard to imagine what the bottom will feel like when they hit. It was hard for Natalie, as a millionaires, Harvard MBA, raking in the cash, to imagine that she could be stripped to her bare essentials, and sold for parts: tits and pussy.

I'll leave it to Belinda to comment on whether it's something that she can comprehend, or it is something she would really need to, and want to, experience.

The good news is that 713-54-6328 's auction went through without a hitch, and the manager at HCI has checked her paperwork. Everything is in order, and her sale is final. She won't be bringing in the big bucks anymore, but I'm sure her sale turned a tidy profit for all concerned.

Now she's on her way to The Big D. As the original chronicler of this famed market, I can assure you there is no better place for a slave girl to understand that she is nothing more than livestock. Whether she is polishing a yellow bollard in the front of the store, rolling in the sand under the crack of the whip, or eating orange slime out of a trough, the little sows status as a farm animal will be reinforced 24/7. Happy Trails, & Bon Appetite, slave girl.

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Re: Southwest Shipping - Part 11

Post by ZeeChromosome »

imreadonly2 wrote: Fri Oct 22, 2021 12:05 am Is Will orchestrating this, or has he lost control? Is Natalie's going to be "processed" in some way, perhaps for export? Being a slave girl, Natalie doesn't know, and neither do we.
Yeah, the suspense build-up is pretty phenomenal. I have speculations, but I'll just keep them to myself at this point, just in case I accidentally figure it out.

"The Girl Factory" is a pretty ominous name. It seems innocuous at first glance, but then your mind rolls it around a bit and you start getting scared because what enters a factory - raw material.

And what leaves a factory? A finished product that probably in no way resembles the raw material that was first deposited on the loading dock. Natalie goes in, and XXX comes back out. Whatever XXX is, it's NOT Natalie.
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Re: Southwest Shipping - Part 11

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I'm assuming "The Girl Factory" is what 1 of the slaves referred to as a biscuit factory! A training farm where slaves get a biscuit for good behavior That was back in chapter 5-7 somewhere in there! She was sitting on the floor of her office talking to a slave and it was explained to her what a biscuit factory was!! If she goes for training this could be interesting!






'
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Re: Southwest Shipping - Part 11

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imreadonly2 wrote: Thu Oct 21, 2021 11:50 pm As the original chronicler of this famed market, I can assure you there is no better place for a slave girl to understand that she is nothing more than livestock. Whether she is polishing a yellow bollard in the front of the store, rolling in the sand under the crack of the whip, or eating orange slime out of a trough, the little sows status as a farm animal will be reinforced 24/7. Happy Trails, & Bon Appetite, slave girl.
Just wanted to let you know, I've dispensed with orange slime. Maybe her owner was upsold better food or something. Hard to tell.
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Re: Southwest Shipping - Part 11

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Slave kibble is so bland and tasteless, that Orange Slime IS the upgrade. :lol: :lol: Discovering that she couldn't get enough of the stuff was another step of Annie's transition from Chicago trading to Dallas slaving!

Miguel seemed kinda sweet on her, and the auctioneer didn't even crack the whip or nothin'. I'm hoping when Natalie moseys her cute little ass into the animal pens of The Big D, she'll experience some real Texas hospitality. :clint:

Poor Natalie! A few hours ago she might have strode confidentially through the front door of The Big D in a smart business suit, prepped for a meeting with the owner, Jake, to discuss new business opportunities. But now she'll be unloaded slave naked off the truck and onto the loading dock. There won't be any handshakes or investor checks for 713-54-6328, and she'll be contributing to the bottom line in a far more modest way.

I imagine the experience of being treated like livestock will be quite a shock, and really play with her head, but it's for her own good. As the song says, Don't try to understand 'em, just rope, collar, brand 'em. :shock:
Last edited by imreadonly2 on Fri Oct 22, 2021 1:09 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Southwest Shipping - Part 11

Post by mikey22 »

I’m liking Natalie. I hope she’s going to a good owner that will treat her well. I’m curious about if she was worth so much to Will why he sold her out?
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Re: Southwest Shipping - Part 11

Post by timerider »

Great story, I like your humor on one part,
"Life is strange, girl friend. One day, you're just hanging out chilling with your man, the next you're dressed up like a horse eating pussy."

That was funny :lol:
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