Southwest Shipping - Part 9

[ElJefe]

What do you mean, you bought the extended warranty?


Southwest Shipping

She had just gotten out of the shower when he knocked, so she answered the door in a towel, and slung it over her shoulder after he closed the door.

"I see you're getting into the part," he observed wryly.

"I suppose I'm going to be bare-assed naked in front of God knows who today, so what's the sense of covering up from you?"

"Hey, don't mind me, I'm just enjoying the view."

She took her time getting ready, ensuring every inch of her body was clean and presentable. According to the information sheet, the special package Will had bought allowed for hair styling, but she fluffed her new do just so all the same. As her stylist had told her, the idea wasn't so much to look as if she'd just rolled out of bed, but to look as if she'd roll right back into it on a moment's notice.

"I was just going to wear a top and some yoga pants, just like the other day. I don't know what to do for shoes, though."

"I've got some flip flops for you, you can walk across the parking lot in those. You're going to be barefoot all day, though."

She nodded, it seemed like a good plan. "Ok, what do I need to take with me? Just my ID, right?"

"You can give that to me. And you should unlock your phone, I'll hold that while you're inside."

She frowned. "Why do I need to do that? A woman should have some secrets, you know."

He regarded her casually. "I'm not going to go snooping all through it. And if anything goes wrong, you're going to really want someone you trust to be able to access everything in it."

That was...concerning. She'd done her research. For thousands of women each year, grading was just a right of passage. They went in with friends, had a scary if exhilarating day, and emerged with the credentials they needed to get loans and apartments in their own name. But for a handful...

For a small percentage of women each year, they went in to get graded, and left in a poodle cage, shipped to their new owners. Usually they had picked the wrong person to manage their affairs while they were temporarily enslaved, a family member who held a grudge, perhaps, or who someone couldn't tell them to their face that that the only way to manage a debt was to mortgage a sister or a cousin. Natalie tried to reassure herself that if he really wanted to, Will could drag her into court for an enslavement hearing and probably win, and that despite having the opportunity, he hadn't done so. She slipped on her things, dug her ID out of her purse, and handed it to him.

"Let's go." She was ready to get this over with.

There was just enough light that the streetlights were starting to wink off as they headed north on I-610. She'd never been this way this time of day, and although the worst of morning rush hour was yet to start, there was still a surprising amount of traffic. Will navigated through it deftly in the little red sports car, slipping past hordes of drivers in automatic who were enjoying their morning coffee while staring at screens.

He took an exit, turned left, and drove through a commercial area, past charging stations and fast-food joints, some serving breakfast. Should she have gotten something to eat, she wondered? Probably not. It wouldn't do to get a case of queasy stomach, and if she was going to be here long, they would probably feed her something later on. She remembered something about food being included in the package, something about it being tasty, which ruled slave kibble out.

He turned left again under an overpass, and they were in an industrial area, right next to a neighborhood. Houston's aversion to zoning never failed to amaze her, they would never allow something like this back home. It seemed like they had only gone a couple of blocks when she saw the HCI sign, still lit as the sun glowed just below the horizon.

"They advertise international shipping?" It was on the sign, besides "Sales" and "Grading".

He shrugged. "They send a few out in oversize poodle cages. Like shipping a Great Dane. They only advertise it because the margin is so good, they don't do as much volume as you might think."

"It's big." The buildings looked all jumbled together, it was hard to tell where HCI ended and the next business began.

"They don't manage all that space well. Probably had a nice plan at the beginning, but it just grew and grew, and they never stopped to reassess space utilization." He pulled into the parking lot.

"Anything I should know before I go inside?"

He turned off the car, and sat with the key in his lap. "Ok, three things. First, you're going to be restrained, devoxed, and felt up by every horny teenager in the place. Don't freak out because they treat you like a slave. You are a slave, legally, from the moment you sign in until they let you go."

"Second, if you do something they don't like, they can punish you. Anything they do will be very unpleasant, you will not want to make the same mistake twice. Don't let it rattle you. They can not and will not do anything that will harm you because that would lower your sale price. From your perspective, you're just here for a grading. From theirs, you are a candidate for the auction block, they make their money from sales commissions. If they put some stripes on your ass or give you a jolt, don't overreact, it'll lower your grade."

"Third, this is what I tell every woman who is curious about the slave trade. Be a horny slut. Outside, if you act too much like a slave, you become one. Inside, you're already wearing a collar, and your value is not determined by your education or your talent but by your fuckability. You want every man to get hard at the sight of you and every woman to have stiff nips and a creamy cunt. 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. Come on everything that goes inside you, from a finger to a dick to someone's old leather boot. The more desirable you are, the higher a price you command, and the better a job you get when you get bought. The auction house wants to sell you for top dollar, too, so for once their interests and your interests coincide. Come early, come often, and smile at everyone no matter how big an asshole they are."

Natalie smiled nervously, slightly aroused by his little speech. "Damn. Sounds like it's going to be an interesting day." She looked around. "Er, are you going to move the car?" They were out by the street, far from the entrance.

He grinned. "Nope. I'm going to walk your pretty naked butt all across that parking lot."

"Naked?"

"Points off from your grading if you have to strip inside. You're the perfect submissive slave slut, remember? Slaves don't wear clothes to the auction house."

"Oh, for God's sake. This is a prank, right? I'm going to get arrested for public nudity?"

"Don't believe me, wait and see. In a few minutes, there will be all kinds of naked slaves walking up to the front door."

"There's nobody else here!" She thought she had seen some cars in the employee parking lot as they approached, but the big lot they were in was empty. Just then, another car pulled up and parked, closer to the entrance.

"There's one now."

Four women piled out. Two seemed to be enjoying themselves, but two others looked rather nervous. They glanced around, and started pulling off their clothing, handing their garments to their companions.

Natalie stared. "Well, I guess you were right. Let's go." She stepped out of the car, pulled off her top and tossed it on the seat, her bare breasts feeling warm in the Houston air. She dropped the yoga pants and her panties with one smooth motion and stepped out and back into her sandals to get them over her feet. She separated the panties from the pants, folded them both, and put them on the seat, closing the door. Ok, she was completely nude in a parking lot; at least it wasn't a residential area. The other two women were still stripping, apparently they hadn't thought about this part.

"Back Hands." Natalie instinctively crossed her hands behind her back as Will zip-tied them together.

"What's that for?"

"Just to help you make a good first impression. Now, forward."

She felt his hand slip between her cheeks and goose her, a fingertip gently poking just into her anus. His palm pressed against her buttock, urging her forward, and she began to walk toward the door. As she approached the quartet she was noticed, and the one girl who was fully nude with her hands crossed over her sex stared. The four all looked young, either right out of high school or not much older.

"Oh my God, I think he's going to sell that woman!"

"Just getting graded!", she called back to them.

"Do you see where he's got his hand? I would never let Julio do that to me in public!"

"I knew we should have invited him. He'd have molested you right here in the parking lot."

At least three of the four giggled behind her. Another car pulled in, parking much closer to the front door.

Will remarked about the four behind them. "If she has a problem with her boyfriend's hand in her crack, she's really going to have an issue with the vaginal inspection." He played with her sphincter as he spoke.

"Let me guess. It's some sort of perverted gynecological exam, right?"

"Just don't be surprised if there's a crowd and they diddle you until you come. I hope you don't mind people looking at your little clit."

"I guess I won't have much choice." The totality of her situation, combined with his wiggling finger, was having an effect, turning her on. She decided to just accept it, he was one of the most experienced wranglers in the state and he'd just advised her to enjoy it all as much as she could.

He steered her to a door off to the side from the main entrance marked "Grading", and opened the door for her while she stood with her hands behind her back. She stepped inside to find the reception area surprisingly luxurious, all carpet and wood paneling and burnished metal fixtures. A middle-aged woman in a plum suit was behind the counter.

"Will Stoudemire! Haven't seen you in an age. How have you been?"

"Oh, just fine. You're looking good."

"Why thank, you." She looked at Natalie. "So, what brings you to your old stomping ground today?"

"Just bringing a lady in for a grading." He handed the woman Natalie's ID.

Natalie read the woman's badge, one of the fancy metallic ones. "Joanna Intake & Grading" Joanna typed into her terminal.

"Natalie Mortellaro. Ok...Oh." She looked up at Will. "Got to give you the spiel." She paused as if to clear her throat. "Mr. Stoudemire, HCI specializes in getting top dollar for its customers on any item they wish to sell. With a grading we can give you a complimentary appraisal and have this item on the block today, and the sale proceeds in your account at the time of sale. Would you like to put this item up for sale today? HCI really will get...you...money!"

Will mouthed the words, "get...you...money!" along with her, and both laughed when she finished. Just then, the group of four young women entered the room, two grinning and clothed, two naked and wide-eyed.

Will glanced at the group and turned back to Joanna. "I think I'll just have her graded for now. We can always put her on the block if I change my mind." He gave Natalie's butt cheek a little squeeze. "Let me have those flip flops, you won't be needing them in here."

That wasn't nice, she thought. You can take a joke too far.

Joanna stepped from behind the counter. "Well, just tell me or any floor manager if you do. I think you know who they all are, I can't remember anyone being promoted since you left. Well, Maxine, of course, someone had to fill your shoes." She pressed something to Natalie's thumbs, each in turn.

"Just need to get your prints for the registry, dear." She returned to her station and printed out a pink plastic tab for Will. Next, she retrieved some handcuffs, and stood behind Natalie again.

"Let's get those zip ties off of you. These will be a little less uncomfortable."

She ratcheted them on with a practiced hand, and use something to snip the zip tie free.

"Less uncomfortable. Not comfortable," Will observed with a grin.

"Well, she'll be out of them soon enough. Now dear, I need to you tilt your head back and open wide." She began shaking a spray can, and when Natalie complied, the woman sprayed something down her throat. Natalie found it bittersweet, something like dark chocolate without the chocolate.

"There, is that your first time devoxed?"

Natalie tried to answer, but no sound came out.

Joanna grinned. "I ask everyone that, and everyone has the same reaction." She retrieved a colored collar from behind the counter. "Pink for grading, red stripe for Premiere. You're in for quite a treat." The collar closed with a fateful click, and Natalie wondered if this was the moment that she had technically become a slave for the day.

Natalie heard one of the others ask, "Did you get us that Premiere thing?" She didn't hear an answer as Joanna began going over some form with Will. She was fiddling with some sort of gun device that connected to her workstation, obviously data had to travel from one to the other.

"Here's her information for the chip, make sure it's all correct. Oh...you did that." Natalie thought she saw Will give a nearly imperceptible shake of his head, she wondered what that was about.

Nonchalantly, he took the stylus and signed the form. "All looks right to me, it's what she put down so if she made a mistake it's her own damn fault." He shot Natalie a glance with a half-grin.

Joanna made a final adjustment to the gun, placed one hand on Natalie's shoulder blade, and pressed the gun to her chest just above her right breast. "Hold still for me...", Pop! There was a slight sting as the gun implanted something into her body. Joanna exchanged the gun for a wand-like device that she waved over Natalie's chest.

She glanced back at the screen. "Looks good...all data...there's the sin. Natalie Mortellaro, your Slave Identification Number is 713-54-6328."

Natalie started to say, "You...", but nothing came out.

Will winked. "You''ll always be 63 28 now." She didn't know whether to slap him or kiss him.

"He's right. Today you'll be referred to as either 63 28 or just 'Slave'." She turned back to Will.

"I know you've set up some of the Premier options, but you'll want to review your choices to make sure everything is just right."

He glanced at a screen, then tapped something on it. "No, this is all right.'

"Almost done. Discipline level?"

"Whip." He leaned against the counter confidently.

"Oh, you trained her?" He nodded. She turned back to Natalie. "I'm sure you'll perform quite well today, then." She turned back to Will.

"Overnight stay?" He nodded.

What was that? He didn't say anything about spending the night. A frown crossed her face.

"Extended display?" He nodded again.

Back to Natalie. "You're going to be very popular today." Noticing her expression, she asked, "You hadn't talked about the display?"

Natalie shook her head. We hadn't talked about that overnight thing!

Joanna started to say, "Well, Dear...", but Will approached and cut her off.

He took Natalie by the shoulders, speaking softly. "Kid, trust me on this. Just go with it. And if someone uses you, just remember to come early and come often."

A wave of anger passed through her, but his touch and his voice were soothing. A part of her wanted to slap him, but with her hands cuffed behind her back, that wasn't an option. "Using her" and "coming" implied vaginal sex and possibly more, a lot more. She hadn't consented to her body being used by a stranger. But had she really consented to going down on Andrea? Or to making out with Sasha, or letting Bradley fuck her with that dildo?

Regardless, she was a slave today. Things were going to happen that she had no control over. She might be able to stomp her foot and glare at him enough to get out of this one thing, but how would she know if she wouldn't be just as offended by some other part of...whatever was going to happen today. And he had mentioned that this was all a ploy to convince her to not go through with the FINO contract. Maybe he was going to make it as humiliating as possible.

She lowered her head, and nodded a few times. Ok. You win, for now.

Joanna was rubbing her back, comforting her. "You'll be ok. I know Will, and I'm sure he thought very carefully about how this day would go for you. Don't think of it as an ordeal. It's an adventure, a once-in-a-lifetime adventure that you'll be able to remember for years."

Natalie shrugged, and Joanna smiled. "That's the spirit!"

She went back to her station and turned to the group that included two now-trembling nude females. "He used to work here. He knows every box to check to make this super intense. You don't have to do all that if it's too much."

Then back to Will. "Your claim ticket is on your phone, we'll text you when we get to the public part."

He retrieved Natalie's phone, jiggling it to get her attention.

Oh, so he's using my phone...Natalie ended the thought as she realized that she would have a record of any transactions between Will and HCI. If she ever needed them.

Joanna clipped a lead to Natalie's collar. "63 28, you are now HCI property until your grading is complete and you are in my care. I'm going to take good care of you, you don't have to worry about a thing." She slid a hand down Natalie's arm to her breast, gently caressing it.

"You're a pretty woman. You're going to get a very high score." She traced a finger around Natalie's areola, her nipples stiffening at the touch. "You should think about being sold today. You would fetch a very high price." Natalie liked her scent, light enough for the office, but very feminine. It was flattering, being told by this woman that she was desirable, but slavery, real slavery wasn't for her.

Joanna leaned in close to her ear, and cupped her breast with her hand. Shit, that felt entirely too good. "For a woman who sold as high as you, the sex would be just...amazing. Only the wealthy and powerful...they would all want you."

But I already know wealthy and powerful people. But did she ever have sex with them? She thought she could have, if she'd really wanted to. But she wasn't sure.

"We could sell you today. It would change your life."

Natalie gazed into her eyes and smiled, finally slowly shaking her head.

I like my life just the way it is. But you can keep playing with my boobs.


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After her refusal, Joanna led her by the leash through a pair of automatic doors into what had to be the world's strangest spa. There were at least a dozen padded benches around the room, clearly grouped into stations for hairdressing, makeup, pedicures, everything to make a person look their best. Everything in the room was in earth tones, well, nearly everything as there was a photo area with white backdrops. But the biggest difference was that every station had at least an eyelet where her leash could be secured, and some had additional restraints.

The first stop was a head-to-toe examination of her body, looking for any hair the waxing salon might have missed. Natalie wound up on her back with her feet parted and pointed at the ceiling, a convenient recess in the bench allowing her to lie comfortably with her hands still cuffed behind her back. The kind lady in the white coat asked her to "open wide", and she was puzzled to find herself gagged with one of the HCI-branded blue ball gags. Why was that necessary when she'd just been devoxed? She found out quickly when the woman observed that the salon had "missed a spot" and began tweezing stray hairs from around Natalie's anus. It was convenient to have something to bite down on during that.

The woman apologized and offered that she hoped the tweezing was the worst thing that happened to her all day. Next, she was washed on a wet bench, rather luxurious with the warm water and exfoliating scrub. A pat dry, and then a coat of nail polish in a tasteful shade of red...toenails, too. Another aesthetician went over her hair (only touch up was needed for that), and yet another applied a little makeup. Natalie was impressed, it looked like she hardly had anything on, but she couldn't remember when she'd looked that good.

A handsome Hispanic in a maroon HCI polo and khakis (with a whip on his belt) introduced himself as Miguel, her grader. Oh, why did they have to give her a good looking one? She was sure that she looked like she was following him around like a puppy, wishing that she could jump his bones. She remembered Will's advice and decided that wasn't such a bad thing, maybe showing arousal might help her score, as embarrassing as that would be. Other women, mostly younger, started filling up the stations behind her.

Miguel displayed his credentials (evidently one had to be licensed to be a grader), and took her to be weighed and measured. She found "measuring" to mean not only her height, but hips, bust, waist and cup size, and body fat percentage. There was a DNA swab in her mouth for the national slave registry, an examination of her teeth (no untreated cavities), her lip tattoo (nearly painless with numbing agent), a blood draw, and a urine sample. The last was when she realized that some things could be quite different for slaves.

She saw Miguel with the specimen cup in hand, expecting him to hand it to her. Of course there was no restroom nearby, and just as it began to dawn on her that she'd have to fill the cup in front of him (and everyone else in the room), he unscrewed the top and sat the open container on the floor near a drain.

"Esclavita, you need to come here and fill up this cup. I'll have to spread your labios nice and wide to keep you from making a mess. That's it, squat down right here. It would be such a shame to have to make you lick it up, your pretty little culo sticking up when you bent down to lick that nasty mess off the floor. But that's what we do with esclavitas who spill." Her face turned crimson as he squatted beside her, his gloved hand gliding down her tummy to her cleft, circling her button before reaching further and spreading her petals wide.

"Pipi now, esclavita." She tried to look away, but his face was inches from hers, grinning. She closed her eyes, and pressed, certain that everyone in the room could hear the sound of her water landing in the plastic cup. There wasn't much, and she wondered if she'd have to repeat the humiliating procedure after drinking some water.

"That's a good little girl, well trained like a good little perra who pipis on the paper." He retrieved a towelette from somewhere and began cleaning her. "Let's get your concha cleaned up, eh? We're going to be taking lots of pictures of your pretty concha, and we want all the moisture to come from here, eh?" He slid a gloved finger into her vagina as his thumb pressed and circled her nub. Natalie wanted to crawl under something and hide, she was sure that half the room could smell her arousal.

He retrieved the cup and sniffed it before screwing the top on and labeling it. "Ah, I can tell it came from a pretty esclavita just from the scent." He gave her a knowing glance, then began tapping on his tablet. "This one is easily embarrassed, and sexually aroused from her embarrassment." He turned to her, the entry in her file complete. "Aren't you, my esclavita?" Natalie nodded, still flushed with humiliation. He beckoned her to rise. "Come now, it is time for your photographs. We will capture your sinful beauty for all to see."

He led her to the photography station and to a mark on the floor. He stood behind her, taking her hands in his, and pressing his chest against her back. She leaned into him, his muscles firm and toned. Behind her, she could feel his member through his pants, stiff and ready to penetrate her. She thought it amazing how skillfully she'd been manipulated, even knowing that they were trying to get her to play the role of a horny slut, she was still ready to be impaled on camera. He could have her now, any way he wanted her, and she would willingly comply, and worry about where the photos went later.

He toyed with her handcuffs, murmuring behind her. "You can pose for the camera better with these off. I can trust you, esclavita? You wouldn't run away on me before we could take you picture, would you?" She shook her head, the cuffs came off. He turned her just so, then stepped away.

"Smile for me, esclavita. Oh, my pretty chiquita, yes, such a pretty smile. Now turn, that way, yes." The lights flashed with each shot, again and again. She could see herself in a monitor, there were full body shots and closeups, from front, back, and the sides.

"Now bend down, that's it, put that beautiful culo right in the camera, oh, you want to look back at the camera, too? Such a pretty face and such a fine culo, you look so fine coming and going. Now reach back and spread it open. Ay Dios mío, your concha and your ojete, that makes a strong man weak. Your legs apart more, good, good. Now, your labios, that's it, spread them wide, ah, the gates of glory. Squat down, oh, you want to keep them spread, that's so beautiful. I want to kiss you down there and never stop. Now down to your knees, so nice, and the last one. Put your head to the floor, ok, culo up, up, Dios, you are wonderful." The lewd photos scrolled on the monitor, Natalie was surprised at how erotic and professional they appeared. If she ever wanted to work in porn, her portfolio was ready.

He cuffed her hands and clipped a lead on her again, and motioned to the automatic doors opposite the ones she had entered through. "And now, my esclavita, it is time for you to be graded. Savor the experience, it will be as the first time you lie with a lover, something you will never forget." The doors opened.

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The room was large, about the size of the prep area, but the function was clearly different. On one side there were several platforms, each with several stainless steel grading tables, on the other side were spectators, separated from the grading area by a rail. As it was still early, the spectator area was mostly empty, but people were filing in to watch the show.

"Let's get you a good table, one where people can see for themselves just how fine you are." She was reminded of going to a classy restaurant and getting one of the visible tables that celebrities used to show off for the publicity, with Miguel playing the role of the maitre d'. At once, the calls started from the audience.

"Yeah, that's starting the day off right."

"I'd fuck that, for sure."

"Hey, Sweetie, where you from?"

"Shit, she's hot. Look at that pussy drool running down her leg!"

Natalie blushed, but smiled at her "admirers". If it was all part of a show, she'd give them one. As a woman, she was used to being objectified, but this was a level of it that she hadn't been exposed to in years. She became aware that her handcuffs signaled her vulnerability, her availability as an object for use.

Miguel led her onto one of the platforms, in front of Table 15. "I'm going to take your handcuffs off now. Just do what I say, and I'll get you a very good grade. Start by putting your hands over your head and turning around three sixty. Make it sexy, move your hips a bit. Very nice!" The crowd responded with applause and more crude comments as she showed off her body. He announced, "Grading a Caucasian subject age 31 from...New. York. City!"

She hadn't lived in Manhattan since she'd moved out of her parent's place, but something about that location set off the locals. Someone said, "Get a rope!" and the room howled with laughter, and she heard several comments along the lines of, "Grade that Yankee bitch!"

He turned to her. "You remember your slave yoga?" She nodded that she did.

"Down!" She knelt. "Slave fours!" She moved into the doggy-style position, wiggling her butt as the crowd hooted. Prone!"

Devoxed, she couldn't chant out her slave mantras. Involuntarily, she mouthed them, then realized what she was doing. In her mind, she was asking every person in the crowd to take her, that man would have her from behind, this one while she bent over, the goth woman who was probably a lesbian she would service with her tongue. If it wasn't for that one thin railing holding them back...if it wasn't for that, God knows how long she'd be ravished before something else took their attention from her. She became aware of the danger, wondering if the crowd had ever gotten out of hand, grateful for HCI's security despite the fact that it now controlled her every move.

"Very smooth, esclavita, you looked fantastic. Now, I need you up on the table, on your back."

She hopped up, parting her legs to display her concha as she scooted back into position. God, she was such a swampy mess down there, she couldn't think of a time when she'd felt or acted more like a slut. She looked up at an overhead camera, and wondered where her image was being transmitted. Miguel secured her to the table with straps at her wrists and and ankles, but it was only when he secured her collar to the table that her heart started to race. Something was about to be done to her, and she didn't know what, and that was exciting and scary at the same time.

The table started moving, raising her into a more seated position as the bottom half parted and spread her legs. Natalie plastered a fake smile to her face, hoping that the audience would like that, they certainly liked her exposure. She heard Miguel say, "Begin recording", and her grading began.

"External lubrication." He began rubbing her labia with his fingers, well, there was plenty of that. Her nipples stiffened even more when he moved his hand past her hood and dipped two fingers just inside her, they were so hard that they were a little sore. Too soon, he pulled them out and held them up, glistening under the bright lights. He made a show of sniffing his fingers and nodding, the crowd ate it up. Then the bastard wiped her juices off on her breasts. Natalie writhed in her bonds and would have moaned with pleasure had she not been silenced.

He held up a probe. Shaped and sized as it was, there was no doubt where it was going. "Internal lubrication and temperature." She watched as he moved as if in slow motion, lowering it to her lips and slipping it inside. "Can you give that a little squeeze for me?", he asked, barely audible. It was smaller in diameter than a man, and she squeezed in frustration trying to give herself more stimulation.

He turned to the crowd and smiled. "The monitor, it does not lie!" She couldn't see the numbers displayed, but understood from their reaction that it said something good about her vagina, promising anyone who fucked her a pleasurable experience.

"Next, elasticity and sensitivity of the anus." In the back, she could hear someone yell, "I want that ass!" Miguel sat a tub of lubricant on the table and moved to dip the probe into it, then stopped, turning to her. "It is so wet and slick inside that I do not know if we even need this, what do you think?" She stared blankly as he winked. He laughed as he dipped the slim probe into the jelly. "I think her slave heat has taken over her mind, no?" There were more laughs from beyond the railing.

He touched the probe to her anus. "Please squeeze for me again, chiquita." He pressed it slowly inside as Natalie did a Kegel squeeze, grateful that she had included them in her daily exercise along with the stretches she had kept from her ballet training years ago. She thought back to Will rutting in her ass the night before, and wished it was him instead of the little plastic wand. Miguel fucked her back and forth a few times with it and then extracted it, slyly placing his thumb over her clit and toying with her as he did so. Natalie felt like humping dry air, everything felt so good down there.

"Ladies and gentlemen, is that tight?" The reaction confirmed that it was, her ass must have closed up overnight. "That is one tight ojete!"

He held up a larger wand. "Vibration sensitivity!" She heard beyond him, "I bet she cums!", and then she heard the buzz of the vibrator. Oh, God, yes, she thought. He surprised her by placing it on her mons and gently teasing her clit with a finger. And yes, she did start humping dry air, craving any stimulation from his finger she could get.

"Esclavita, are you having fun? You want more?" She nodded vigorously.

He spoke to the audience, advertising the service that Will had purchased for her. "A little something extra for you, this is part of our Premier grading package should you need a grading done." He stopped stroking her clit and held up a transparent glass probe. "Skin sensitivity!"

Natalie wondered what it did, hoping that it was something nice like the vibrator, still buzzing at her mound. He placed it against her inner thigh down by her knee, and started tracing up, up, up along her thigh until he was close to her sex, her anticipation building. He pressed some sort of trigger on the device, and something like purple lightening appeared inside it as electric tingles flashed through every part of her groin.

Had she not been devoxed, she would have screamed in pure ecstasy, convulsing as the contractions took over. She was dimly aware the crowd was roaring their approval as she bucked through her climax.

"...and skin sensitivity, need I say more? Top marks!" There was more applause, more polite and reserved than when she had come. As she came down from her sexual high, the magnitude of what she had just done sank in. She had performed one of her most intimate functions for an audience of strangers, many of whom had already marked her down as someone to bid on and moved on to view the next grading. Aside from her number, 63 28, she was just another pussy, one who had creamed well on the table and was worth some money. She felt incredibly vulnerable, to the point where the bonds holding her to the table were more reassuring than threatening. At least she wasn't going anywhere until they were released.

Miguel gently stroked her cheek, having put his instruments away. "I cannot top that, senorita. I will grade many women today, but none will be as good as you. Would that every day start off as well as this one." He released her from the table and helped her to her feet, cuffing her hands behind her back and displaying her once again.

He announced that her grade would be announced shortly, and that she would be available for inspection, "...an extended inspection!" at post number 15. He reminded them to put their evaluations and pre-bids under her Slave Identification Number, 713-54-6328, and finished with, "...and that concludes the grading."

He clipped a leash back on her, and gave her a pat on the butt to lead her to the inspection area. "Very well done, esclavita. Very nice, indeed. I should bid on you myself, I should start my collection with you."

[Carl Bradford]

I've reached the point in my own writing where I tend to rush through slave grading/processing for fear of boring the reader, but this is excellent.
I also have to say that her boyfriend/partner is really astute about manipulating submissive female urges. I know he's a former slave wrangler/handler, but by any chance has he been reading Walker and Sheldon's Psychological Impact of Slavery?
Your story-telling seems to improve with each segment--thanks again.

[jeepster]

Awesome! That was a well written chapter that was entertaining !

[ElJefe]

I know he's a former slave wrangler/handler, but by any chance has he been reading Walker and Sheldon's Psychological Impact of Slavery

Her family was from New York and she'd taken her MBA from Harvard, he was a native Houstonian with a double major in business and psychology from the University of Texas.

Your story-telling seems to improve with each segment--thanks again.

Thanks again, amigo!

[mikey22]

This story is awesome!

[ZeeChromosome]

Have to say, Jefe, that was Golden. I'm seriously impressed with how some people can grab the same old recycled stuff... and make it new again. Well done.
-
Also, just gonna say it... I think I spotted your self-insert character here. Just thought I would mention that, lol. Nothing wrong with that, I wanna be him, too.

[ElJefe]

Also, just gonna say it... I think I spotted your self-insert character here. Just thought I would mention that, lol. Nothing wrong with that, I wanna be him, too.

Nope, he's just an employee whose good at his job.

[ZeeChromosome]

Also, just gonna say it... I think I spotted your self-insert character here. Just thought I would mention that, lol. Nothing wrong with that, I wanna be him, too.

Nope, he's just an employee whose good at his job.

I believe you, Miguel. >wink<

I'm pretty sure that everyone reading that scene wanted to be Miguel. I certainly did.

[imreadonly2]

Again, I LOVED the psychology of it, the descriptions of her drive along the highway and her intake, and the businesslike atmosphere of HCI. The locals enjoying her status as "Yankee pussy" and the tiny twinge of terror she must have felt to be in a situation where everyone could laugh at the suggestion that they "Get a rope!" This is brilliant stuff.

Natalie's feelings about her slave tattoo were, to put in mildly, complex. Logically, it make perfect sense. Given the business she was in, it was crazy NOT to be registered, as it reduced the risk of having some other girl's number tattooed onto her lip during some sort of ShangHai.

On the other hand, having a SIN number made it clear to everyone, herself included, that she was now livestock, inventory that could be bought and sold. Slave naked, collared, and registered, she was literally and figuratively only a few feet away from the shame and humiliation of the auction block. She was no longer Natalie Mortellaro, Harvard MBA, she was 713-54-6328. This permanent change in her status was strangely electrifying, and to her surprise Natalie found that she could make herself wet simply by running her tongue over the inside of her lip.

A part of her resented that they had used anesthesia when she got her lip tattoo, for she wanted the full experience. What would the branding iron feel like? Would Will give her anesthesia for that, too? She longed to know, but of course the TRUE "full experience" would be performing naked on the block, under the command of the auctioneer's whip.

She trusted Will, but also knew that depending on her grade, and if the right person made the right offer, it would be crazy for Will NOT to sell her. The thought of it terrified her, even as she wondered what sort of price she might bring. How would her price compare to the other girls? Was she as beautiful as them? The grading would tell if she was worth to kneel naked alongside her sisters, but the only way she'd know for sure if she were better was when the auctioneer's hammer fell. She ached to know -- slave girls can be so vain!

She caught herself - she wasn't a slave girl. She was, legally, but not really, not yet. No, this was only a grading, although with a mere flick of Will's green warehouse Sharpie, she could literally be pushed under the hammer. There would be no fuss, no protests, or no recourse. She would be nothing more than another piece of hot slave tail to be paraded before the buyers and sold. What a power rush it must be for him, knowing that she was so squarely under his thumb. She didn't know if he was as excited as she was, but she knew if that did happen she would, as Will had told her, leave a trail of pussy juice from one end of the block to the other.

[imreadonly2]

I also liked the extended display and Will giving her an overnight stay, which should give Natalie plenty of time to worry about her future and what might happen to her, as well as possible mistakes occurring. It would seem to me like the longer you stay in a place like HCI, the more dangerous it becomes to you, both procedurally and psychologically, as you become ensconced in your role. I'm also intrigued if this might not be a chance for Will to find out how HCI's International Shipping compares, from the cargo's perspective, of course.

[Carl Bradford]

As usual, Joe's comments and insight into slave psychology are great; wish I could write like that off the cuff (or perhaps in this case on her cuffs?)
The author of this series has clearly laid out [emphasis on laid] a plot, and I have tried to resist the urge to make unwanted suggestions. That said, when Joe suggested that she be used to try out their international shipping, it naturally gives rise to all manner of possibilities. Let me cite just one and shut up: Will may retain title to her, but ship her internationally, ostensibly so she can then give a comparison between the usual poodle cage shipping and his new, massive system. Of course, she might THINK she had been sold to an international buyer, which would certainly give rise to some racing and racy thoughts in the cage. Perhaps, as he once described to her in other circumstances, Will or some other member of their company might meet and use her at the other end, then free her.
That's just my babbling on her cuffs, however. I look forward to what the author has really planned for her.

[Belinda]

I have read many read many grading stories here. This one is my favorite you're descriptive powers and inventiveness skills are phenomenal. It is what makes you such an exceptional author.

Regards,

Belinda

[imreadonly2]

Yes, the possibilities of INTERNATIONAL SHIPPING are indeed tantalizing. There's also a reference to delicious food, which makes me wonder if Orange Slime will make an appearance. And having her on extended display makes it more likely that someone she knows might see her.

I was surprised to see my father, but not as surprised as he was to see me. He has a few large oil clients in Houston, and visits them regularly, always taking the opportunity to drop in on me unannounced, rather like a surprise inspection. Well, he was certainly surprised now, and his jaw dropped as his drunken client finger fucked me as I humped his hand. It actually took him a few seconds to recognize me, as I was so out of context I could see him struggling to reconcile my face with the naked, collared slut humping his client's hand. I never knew he took clients to The Big D for a free feel, although it made sense. And I'm sure he never expected to see me there, at least not naked in the slave pens.

Father hadn't approved of my business venture with Will, as he didn't like me getting that close to the immorality of the slaving business. I assured him it was only a business, but now our mutual hypocrisy was on full display. I knew he wouldn't blow my cover, as that would be more embarrassing for him than me, but it was the range of his reactions. Shock turned to horror turned to anger as I bucked my hips and danced on the chubby fingers between my legs, and before long he had that stern "I told you so" look on his face. When I finally came, he smiled and shook his head, resigned to what I now was in his - and everyone's - eyes.

There's the principle of Chekhov's gun, which says you can't introduce details that don't contribute to the overall narrative. However a lot of these stories are world building, so I think it's perfectly permissible for authors to throw out tiny story ideas that may or may not be used. A lot of the fun of this story, at least for me, is reading a sentence or two and then imagining where it might lead. In my case these are less suggestions of what the author might do than a display of my admiration for what the author has written, and a way to show how much his work has inspired me. Good stories inspire other good stories, and this is the best of stories. Joe

[timerider]

Excellent!

[reddbunnz]

Once again, the author has done a great job of keeping us guessing about her actual desires. Is she just a sexy, crafty, smart businesswoman who has learned to use her body to advance her career? Or, just a sexpot waiting to be enslaved? Only time will tell.