Southwest Shipping - Part 10
Posted: Wed Oct 20, 2021 5:17 pm
I'm sure this will all get straightened out before much longer.
Southwest Shipping
Miguel led her to a screened-off area near yet another set of automatic doors, and clipped her lead to a railing, tethering her in place while he entered data into some system.
"I should speak to you about your grade, you are near a dividing line between two grades. Everybody walks in here as Select, that is our default grade. Many stay there, some rise, some fall. After your excellent performance back there, you have risen all the way to Choice Plus. But...this is very important."
He cupped her jaw with his hand, stroking her jawline with his fingers. "You know about this, we will speak honestly to one another about it. Without it, you would definitely be Prime. But as Choice, it would be unusual for your owner to have this fixed."
It was a minor flaw, probably the only thing about her face that she would change if she could. But was this guy talking about plastic surgery? Had she gone into acting or journalism, she might have considered it. But she was very professional and meticulous about her appearance, and it hadn't kept her from earning millions, first at John Pierpont and later on her own.
"Ah, but your grade is not complete. You will go on display now, and the buyers will give their own ratings. And I see that you are on extended display, and that will almost certainly raise your grade to Prime. Now, Prime is something different, you will command a very high price. You will be a big investment for whoever purchases you. They will be willing to spend money to take care of this tiny flaw, it is protection for their investment. And with that gone, you might even command an even higher grade, no? Life is very different for a Prime, you will see."
My God, he is talking about plastic surgery. It wouldn't be worth her time and money, but if she had nothing to do but service someone else, why wouldn't she want that beauty treatment, paid for by someone else, painful though the recovery might be? She wondered what else they might do to her, perhaps breast augmentation, maybe lipo on her hips. She felt her arousal beginning to grow again. If she was really a slave, they would treat her like a walking, talking Barbie doll, tinkering with her as they pleased. She hoped they would exercise good taste, she didn't want to be transformed into some bimbo slut.
"...so, it is important that you perform well out there. They will inspect you very closely, touch every inch of your body. We will not let them harm you, no, no, you are far too valuable. But remember to smile, remember you want to be sold, sold to someone who will value you and keep you well. You will have several hours to convince them, that will bring your grade to the highest level. Do you understand? You must not displease potential buyers."
She couldn't answer him, but she nodded, acknowledging what was going to happen. She could play this game for the sake of bringing up her grade. But if she were really to be sold today, the situation would be serious and terrifying. She would have to beg each buyer with her eyes, and pissing off one of them might get her sent to someplace dreadful. She began to understand Andrea's answer to her in her office yesterday. About this much. She saw the woman's fingers in her mind, about a centimeter apart. About that much. This was a game. But for Andrea, being graded and inspected had been terrifyingly real, with consequences that had led to her being where she was today...like being forced to kneel at Worldwide to lick Natalie's pussy last week.
About this much.
Unhitched from the railing, he led her through the automatic doors out onto the sales floor, to post number 15 as the sign proclaimed. He released her wrists, then cuffed her hands in front before attaching a cable that led up to a pulley at the top of the post. A motor drew her hands up, up over her head, and he guided her feet to cuffs on the floor that would hold her legs apart, displaying her charms to any who cared to examine them. Then he raised her hands again, leaving her weight just barely on her heels. Natalie thought herself already quite exposed and vulnerable until he pressed back on her collar, which pulled back to the post and stuck with a magnetic "clunk". Now she found she could turn her head to watch buyers and merchandise in the sales area, but not look down to her body should someone touch her. She felt the cool air and her sex and squirmed. Bound like this, if someone approached from out of her view and squatted to toy with her cunt, she could feel everything but not see who was molesting her.
Miguel seemed to give everything one last check and then met her gaze. "One hour. I will be back to give you a little break." Then he left, and the crowd that had gathered around to gawk at the nude morsel surged forward for a closer look.
From what she could see, they were younger men, perhaps college age or so, and their hands were everywhere. It was overwhelming, at least three or four hands on her breasts, more hands on her inner thighs, a hand cupping her sex, a finger probing for her vagina. She had to fight down a wave of terror to smile at those faces she could see, to play the role of enjoying this rude groping. Worse, she was getting aroused by it, hands and fingers exploring her hard nipples, moisture seeping out from her crevice. The combination of arousal and fear was potent, they seemed to feed on each other. If rape is inevitable...better have a wet pussy.
The men...and her audience seemed to be exclusively male...kept up a constant chatter.
"Let me feel some of that Yankee pussy."
"Feel how hard her tits are, she wants it right now."
"Hey, Sweetheart, I'll make you dance on my block." Someone made a "whoo-kisch" sound, emulating a whip, and the others laughed.
She squirmed, and became aware of a hulking brute with a black HCI t-shirt.
"Clear out, give her some room. Hey!" He shouted, angry at something. Natalie jumped in her bonds. She was taller than average for a woman, but he loomed over her.
"Serious buyers only! Back up!"
One of the women whose grading had just started when Natalie's grading had finished was being strung up to another post. The horde (and that's how Natalie thought of them) melted away to gawk and fondle the new arrival. The security guard followed, ready to pounce if they went too far.
Someone gave her ass a double pat, a less insistent touch than she'd just experienced. "Hang in there. First time sold? Oh, I see you're just being graded." His face came into view, more handsome but perched upon a frame that was nearly as large as the other man in black security shirt. "You'll get those every time you're strung up, worst thing that happens is one of them gets a finger up your ass before we throw them out. I'll get you some real buyers, they're not such a bunch of assholes, and they'll help your grade." He disappeared.
She was approached by a couple, older than the gropers and better dressed. The woman began taking pictures of Natalie with her phone.
"Mel, what are you doing?" The man jostled her collar. "She's just getting graded, she's not for sale."
"Someone might change their mind, and this one would be just right for us. How are you doing, Honey?"
Natalie smiled back at the woman. Fine, thank you, if you're not going to shove dirty fingers up my...you know. She felt the woman's hands working down her ribcage to her flanks.
"She works out, keeps herself in shape."
The man seemed annoyed. "We're not buying a racing pony."
"The way she's built, she'd be more for dressage instead of racing, anyway. But what I'm interested in is..." There was a pause, and the woman's voice returned. "You can tell she's into this, look how wet she is." The woman's finger rubbed slickness up and down Natalie's inner thigh. "Good clean scent, even though she's ready to fuck. The woman began diddling Natalie's button as she rose back into view.
"You like that, Sweetie? We run a high end place, we have standards. The customers are all clean, and you only have to do a half dozen a day. Good job for someone with a grade like yours."
Oh, God, if you will do that to me every day, I will whore for you and only for you. Part of her understood she could never work in a brothel, but she had to seem eager, had to keep playing the game.
"Mel, look at her. You think you're the only buyer she's going to go all goo-goo over? She's not stupid, she just wants a good grade. There's no way she's going to stay Choice, we can't afford her."
The woman stood, disappointed. "I suppose you're right." She patted Natalie's cheek as if she was a child. "But if you do get sold for something we can afford, we're taking you home with us." Something caught the woman's eye. "Oh, Frank, look at this one..."
The buyers became more serious as time passed. Some inspected her teeth, a few even listened to her heart with a stethoscope. The groping was more professional, almost like being at a doctor's office. One even slipped at device into her vagina and asked her to squeeze, apparently not trusting HCI's appraisal of her cunt. This was tiring, she was reminded of interviewing for John Pierpont, her every move scrutinized for some misstep.
Please buy me. We'll get back to you.
See how much I want you! Let me check with corporate.
Creepiest were the guys who came near the end, wearing sunglasses inside the building and speaking with some unseen personage over a lapel mike and earbud arrangement. They spoke in some arcane jargon that she didn't recognize, stopping to press a breast or feel the tone of her arm in response to some request from...somewhere.
It's not personal. It's strictly business. But if her ass had really been on the line, it would be very, very personal...for her.
Miguel returned. "Break time. You must get getting tired up there." He lowered her hands and released her collar from the post. "I'm going to let you rest for a few minutes, relax before coming out here." He freed her feet and fastened her hands behind her back again.
He led her into a maze of cages, all jumbled this way and that, some even stacked atop each other with stairs and walkways leading to the upper level. Slaves stared at her as she passed, mostly women, a few men. He stopped her outside a cage marked O2, and opened the door.
There were plastic benches along two of the walls, and a drain in the floor. The benches had eyelets, but he didn't bother with them, merely uncuffing her.
"Fifteen minutes, then you go back on display. Please stretch and make yourself as comfortable as possible, I know it is tiring out there. Here, I have some water for you."
He left her with a water bottle and locked the door behind him. She thought it would have been better if he'd have left breakfast, but took a long pull from the bottle just the same. After a few minutes of working the kinks out of her body, she sniffed the bench to see if it was clean enough to sit on. It smelled of disinfectant, so she stretched out, feeling odd to be lying naked as handlers and slaves passed by. Just as she began to feel comfortable, Miguel reappeared with another nude woman, brown but not Hispanic. Natalie wondered if she had come from the Middle East, or possibly the Indian subcontinent.
"I am going to put you in here with 63 28," he announced. "Like you, she is also on extended display. I can trust you two to behave, no? If we have to break you two up for fighting, it will ruin your score." He grinned, implying he was only joking. The other woman looked terrified, Natalie wondered if she came across the same way. Miguel departed, leaving the two of them together.
Natalie pointed at her throat, stuck out her tongue, and waved her hand as a movie director might when cutting action for a scene. The other woman pointed to her throat and shrugged. So much for casual conversation. Natalie pointed to herself, flashed the fingers on both hands three times, then held up one finger. 31. The other woman looked at her with a puzzled expression, then understanding dawned and she flashed her hands three times, then held up four fingers. Natalie had thought they were close in age.
She saw that the other woman had a pink collar. Natalie held up her own collar. The other woman slid closer on her bench and pointed to the red stripe. Natalie thought for a moment, smiled and gave a thumbs-up signal, then primped her hair. To complete the image, she leaned back and pantomimed tossing a bon-bon into her mouth. The other woman smiled. Too rich for my blood.
The other woman pointed to her wrist. Time? Time now, or how long have I been here? Natalie had no way of telling either, but guessed that she'd been there about 3 hours, and held up three fingers. The other woman pointed to herself and held up three fingers as well. She must have gotten in right behind me. Maybe she'd been in the car that had pulled in behind the quartet.
Natalie took another pull on the bottle, and handed it to the newcomer, who drank greedily. She flashed two thumbs up in return, and spread her arms as if asking for a hug. Why not?, Natalie thought, and rose to give her a quick embrace. When they separated, the woman pointed to Natalie's nipples, then held two fists together in some sort of gesture she didn't understand. Then the woman pointed to Natalie's crotch, and rubbed her thumb against her first two fingers. Wet? Natalie nodded, and plunged two fingers from her left hand into her honeypot (she wanted to keep her right hand clean). She held them up, glistening, then pointed with her right hand to the woman's crotch. She blushed, then inserted two fingers into her own snatch as Natalie watched, holding them up to much greater embarrassment as her whole chest flushed.
Natalie reached over, gently grasped the woman's hand, and pulled it to her mouth as the other woman's eyes opened wide. She has to be clean, nobody with a skanky pussy could possibly get past that preparation room. She took the upright fingers into her mouth, never breaking eye contact with the woman. If possible, the other woman's golden skin turned even redder at that, and she looked away, ashamed to admit that she was as aroused as Natalie. Natalie drew her in and embraced her.
Then the stranger started kissing her, and it was nice. She felt the other woman's breasts against her, the nipples clearly erect. And she tasted so good!
"Esclavitas enamoradas! Perhaps we should sell you two together as a set. So sorry to break you up, but poor 63 28 must go on display again." Miguel opened the door. "Back hands, esclavita."
Fifteen minutes! Fifteen minutes with a total stranger, and they were ready to go at it. Natalie stared at the ground, trying to hide her embarrassment while Miguel fastened her hands behind her back. What was with this place? She grinned to herself. Maybe they really had put something in the water!
He led her through the cages on a leash. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, chiquita. Everybody enjoys watching pretty slaves give each other pleasure, and sometimes that's the only way a slave can get some relief, no? Ah, well, back to work. Perhaps you can be sold someplace where there are other pretty slaves to relax with after a long day."
He returned her to post 15, and once again a crowd of young men began pawing her. She wondered if she should drop the "I'm happy to have you finger me" act to chase them off, then thought that it might be possible for one of them to be offended and give her a bad review. She knew she only had to endure a few minutes of heavy-handed groping, but it seemed like an eternity. One of them had started to worm a finger up her back passage (thankfully, still slightly lubricated) before one of the guards proclaimed, "I said no insertions, asshole!" and gave him the bum's rush, all the way out the front door. She knew the goons might take her for their own use at some point, but as protective as they were, she was almost willing to give out a few blow jobs out of sheer gratitude.
Then more serious buyers stopped by, and the "job interview" portion of her pole dance resumed. This time the highlights were the gays who ran a suck bar (she wondered if they also had another establishment that catered to their own proclivities), the "trainer" who wanted a "filly" for his stable (and yes, that meant being a human pony), and (God forbid) a buyer from Slaves R Us. She couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like to work at a rent-a-slave business and was glad when he decided she was probably overpriced.
Soon it was time for another break, and Miguel returned her to the cage. This time there was already an occupant, a slender black woman with an orange mohawk. She seemed completely at ease, and Natalie wondered if she'd chosen the unusual hairstyle or merely become accustomed to it after having worn it for some time.
"I have something new for you," he said as he unfastened her hands. "Collar!"
Instinctively she dropped to her knees, lifting her hair with one hand. Please buy me and make me your slut, Master! He unfastened her collar and lifted it from her neck. She wondered what the protocol was for completing her grading, would he just walk her nude and uncollared up to the front? And when would the damn devox stuff wear off? She understood why she was silenced when the buyers pawed her over, it would be easy to throw the action to one or another if she decided for herself who her buyer should be, but was that really necessary for women who were just being graded?
She was jolted back to the present when Miguel fastened a new collar around her neck, one that seemed a little heavier. "Present!"
She rose and faced him, fingers behind her head and breasts jutting as the position demanded.
"I am required to tell you that you are at the Houston location of HCI Incorporated for auction and sale. I must tell you by law that the collar you are wearing can deliver a powerful and extremely painful shock if you attempt to leave the building without permission. Additionally, all HCI employees are authorized to use any means necessary to compel you to comply with all orders given to you, and those means include electrical shock and whipping. If you follow my instructions you will not be hurt. Do you understand? You may nod your head if you understand, esclavita."
She nodded, confused. So she had to go through a mock auction first, then be released? It would have been nice if she'd have been given some sort of timeline for the day.
"Now, let me check your voice since it has been several hours. Very softly, so as to not damage your voice, tell me your number."
Natalie managed a hoarse whisper that barely sounded like "63 28".
"Yes, you are getting your voice back. We do not like to use more than one shot of the yellow devoxer in a day, as that can cause damage. So, you will go out one more time and then we will set your auction." He left her in the cage with the taller woman, who looked like she might have played volleyball or basketball for a team some time ago.
They established that her new companion was also devoxed, 25 years old, and had done the ponygirl thing, as she had pranced in place to demonstrate. If that had been her last owner, that would explain the unusual hair. Natalie noticed that she wore a red collar, and wondered why her own had just been changed out. She distinctly remembered that the Premier package came with a meal; if she didn't get it, she was going to complain to Will when this was all over.
Soon Miguel returned with the Middle Eastern woman (Natalie didn't really know where she was from, but thought of her that way). He checked her voice, and like Natalie was able to croak out "15 54".
"Ah, you are getting your voice back, too. I was telling your friend here that your display will be over when it returns, so you will also have only one more session out there, and then I will return you to the preparation area. Please do your best, as this will be your last opportunity to improve your grade today."
Wait, what? 15 54 would be taken back, but she was going to auction? She needed to understand how this all worked. Natalie gestured for Miguel's attention, then pointed to 15 54's collar, then to her own, then shrugged, palms up.
"63 28, I know you wish to ask questions, but you are devoxed and even if you could speak, slaves are to be seen and not heard. You wish to know why your collar was changed?"
Natalie nodded vigorously. Well, that wasn't what she really wanted to know, but that would do for a start.
"Well, apparently your owner received such fine bids that he decided to put you up for sale. And if his expectations are met, your grade may go even higher. It is possible that you may grade out at straight Prime instead of Prime Minus if the winning bid is high enough. I told you, esclavita, your life is about to change. You will have a better owner now, just one more hour of display and then your auction."
Natalie stood in shock, unable to comprehend what was happening. How could she be sold if she wasn't a slave? She moved to cry out, "Wait!", but he had already stepped outside the cage and closed the door behind him. She glanced around. The middle-eastern lady seemed to be as bewildered as she was, and the black woman just shrugged in the universal gesture for, "I don't know."
She took stock of her situation. She had to hang from the pole for one more hour, then the mock auction thing. And her voice was coming back, maybe she could ask someone a few questions before it started.
A sense of horror started creeping over her. What if the mock auction was a real one? What if Will had somehow sold her out? That made no sense, he'd told her in as many words that she was worth more to him free than as a slave. What if something had happened to Will, or if HCI had somehow pulled a fast one on him?
She realized, to her distress, that as a sense of doom overwhelmed her, that she was becoming aroused. I'd better have a wet pussy, she thought. I'm about to become somebody's fuck slut.
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Three made for a different dynamic in the cage than two. Natalie sat awkwardly between the other two women, and the Middle Eastern one slid closer to give her a hug. Had she really seemed that distraught? Natalie thought she must have, the hug seemed to be one of support. But then the black girl surprised her by glancing in their direction, giving them a half smile, then seemingly oblivious to them, propping up one leg on the bench while she proceeded to "flick the bean".
Natalie stared, the black woman seemed to not notice. Natalie wondered if she had become a slave because of casual indifference to exposing herself, or was so nonchalant about performing for an audience because she'd been trained that way as a slave. Then it occurred to her...this woman had been treated as a human animal, dressed like a horse and made to act like one. She'd probably even been forbidden to speak for hours on end. When else would she have an opportunity to masturbate? Natalie realized with horror that the other woman might not have had the chance to touch herself until being brought here for sale. If so, the woman was either preparing herself for sale, straining to bring in a high bid, or else exercising some autonomy over her own body that had been denied for some time. Possibly both.
Natalie ran her crossed hands up her own torso, cupping her breasts when she reached them. She closed her eyes and started fingering her nipples, already stiff from all the sexual energy at HCI. If a pony-human could exercise some autonomy over her own body, so could she. Natalie closed her eyes and dove into her own arousal.
She was surprised to find a hand on hers, lifting it away from her breast. She opened her eyes to see the Middle Eastern woman take her hand in hers, and lower her face to nuzzle Natalie's arm. The woman's eyes moved from Natalie's face to her breast and back, questing. Natalie nodded. What did I just agree to? Still, she was not surprised when the woman moved to her breast, kissing and licking the nipple. Natalie closed her eyes again in pleasure.
She opened them again as she became aware of a presence beside her. It was the tall black woman, stooping beside her. Their eyes met, the poor thing was consumed with need. Was she allowed any relief as a pony girl?, Natalie wondered. Or was she hobbled and 'bred', whether she wanted to be or not? She began stroking the stranger's muscular back as the third woman looked up, fearful, wondering what the interloper would do.
Natalie ran her hand up to the athlete's head, intertwined her fingers in the orange mane, and pulled the woman close. She was beautiful, sad, fearful, as Natalie opened her mouth and kissed her, exploring her with her tongue. You're not a freak, they just dressed you up as one. Or undressed her, as the case may be. Natalie felt a hand at her groin, she parted her thighs to find two fingers slip inside her, slick with her own wetness. When she broke the kiss, she found that it was the broader golden woman who was pleasuring her, not the taller dark one. And orange-hair started suckling the third partner, who closed her eyes with the pleasure even as she fingered Natalie.
Fifteen minutes. We're having a Lesbian orgy with three strangers during a fifteen minute break. Natalie marveled as she approached a peak. It seemed clear that the woman with the dark areolas was headed back to the prep area and freedom after another stint on the posts, and the black woman was being sold, headed to an uncertain destination on her slave journey that might last for another year or for ten. Natalie didn't know, she didn't even know if the woman she was now probing with her right hand even knew for how long. And herself? She had to be going home after this auction thing, nothing else made sense. But she was still wearing a different collar. She thought Miguel was confused or misinformed, but terrified that he wasn't. And that made her as horny as she could ever remember.
The black woman came first. Natalie felt her spasm about her fingers just as Andrea had just a few days ago. Before the other woman could finish, Natalie withdrew her fingers and used them to rub the woman's clit, jamming her thumb in the woman's vacated opening, flexing the digit in an attempt to locate the woman's g-spot. She still felt the black woman's last few contractions, whether she had found it or not no longer mattered. The other two were kissing, the brown woman still fingering Natalie as Natalie approached her own climax.
"Tres esclavitas enamoradas!", Miguel exclaimed. He was clearly amused by their reaction, Natalie realized as she flushed. "I am so sorry to interrupt you, my dears, but it is time for you to get back to work. 55 20, Back Hands!"
Orange Mohawk rose, her back to the door, and mouthed "Thank you" as she crossed her hands behind her back. Miguel cuffed her and clipped on a lead, then led her out. With a sweeping gesture, he announced, "Ladies, as you were", winking as he turned away.
Natalie and 15 54 regarded each other, the mood clearly spoiled. In a moment he would return for one of them, and it would take longer than that to push either one over the edge. The other woman took her hand, and they embraced.
But who was comforting who? Although her day seemed more stressful than she'd anticipated, the other woman was definitely going home tonight. It was Natalie, who despite assurances, just wasn't sure. And it seemed likely that no matter how things played out, that they would never see each other again. Perhaps that was why they held each other so tightly.
"Dos esclavitas enamoradas! Come, 63 28, I must regretfully break up such a lovely couple."
Natalie stood and dutifully turned her back to the door, presenting her wrists for binding. "Good bye," she mouthed to 15 54, hoping the other woman would understand her.
"Just one more time, and then you can rest before you go on the block. You'll need to be at your best for that." He hoisted her hands high above her for the third time.
"Wait, " she croaked.
"Sh-sh-sh! Did I not tell you that you could ruin that beautiful voice if you spoke too soon? I can see that something troubles you. We can speak again before you go on the block, if I can, I will answer your question then. Now, you must look good for the buyers, no? You will do that for me?"
Natalie nodded reluctantly. Nude and restrained as she was, she was in no position to argue.
He turned. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Lot 22, for sale immediately after display." He tapped the monitor above her on the post. "As you can see, graded just this morning, excellent marks, a superb investment." Then he walked away.
This time she didn't get a finger up the ass, but one groper entered her vagina and was searching in vain for her g-spot when he was told to move on. His touch wasn't completely unwelcome, but even as horny as she was, it was a relief when he left.
The first serious buyers were a wealthy family who seemed to want to purchase a graduation present for their son. The kid was quite a dick, but she didn't panic until she heard the father mumble, "At least you can't wrap her around a tree like that Corvette. You're lucky to be alive." If that's the way he treats all his toys...
Then there was another corporate buyer. He almost seemed more interested in his phone than in her, constantly yakking to someone about her qualities and what price she might go for. It was only when he stepped back that she could read his name tag, which advertised that he was a buyer for the Nevada Club, a national brothel chain. That wasn't good, it was upscale enough that she might meet someone she knew there.
It seemed like her last hour was almost over when the final buyers appeared, a pair. They pinched and prodded her flesh, paying special attention to her breasts and ass cheeks. She smiled at them, given them her best "please buy me" look until the one said that the problem with the high end girls was that they didn't have enough padding to take a good whipping, and the other one said you could always recycle them in a lower priced show after they'd been "used up". Natalie wondered what they could be talking about and how that couldn't be illegal slave abuse, until one of the pair introduced himself to a bystander as a buyer for Whips n Chains, a BDSM franchise that the media claimed spent more on legal defense than on slave welfare. The Nevada Club didn't seem like such a bad idea after that.
"You have done well, it is all but a formality that you will be sold as Prime," announced Miguel as he unfastened her wrists." She ached, she'd hoped to see Will as she hung on display and feared being taken down without spotting him, but three hours of standing in place had taken its toll. There was still a small chance she would see him in time for him to explain what was happening.
He took her to "H19", a larger cage deeper into the complex, empty save for 55 20. As soon as Miguel left, the tall woman handed Natalie a water bottle, then held her in a close embrace.
"Thanks for helping me out back there," she whispered into Natalie's ear.
"You're welc..., you're welcome," she croaked back.
The black girl whispered some more. "Not yet, you're voice isn't back. Drink the water, it helps. First time sold?"
Natalie gave the palms-up shrug. Her facial expression matched her bewilderment.
"You never been sold before?"
Natalie shook her head.
"You don't know what's going on?"
She nodded, violently.
"Someone probably done you dirty. Brought you here for a grade and signed you over. Money problems?"
No! She shook her head.
"Have a fight? Someone out to get you?"
She shook her head, less vigorously. All her life, she'd tried to treat people fairly; she'd seen enough examples of bad behavior that she knew she didn't want to go down that road. And if anyone was holding a grudge, they certainly hadn't told her about it.
The tall woman held her close, stroking her back and resting her hand on Natalie's butt. "I don't know what to say. Be strong, you'll get through this. I did it once before, it's crazy but you make do."
A different handler brought a third woman to the cage, and a few hand gestures later, they determined she couldn't talk, either. Natalie stood with her face nearly touching hers while 55 20 whispered into her ear, straining to hear every word. 55 20 thought they'd be sold at one o'clock, but how she knew that or what time it was now were both mysteries.
A fourth woman was brought to the cage, and some time later Miguel arrived with a crying blond, who looked to be fresh out of high school.
"Now, senorita, you must be brave. I will summon Mr. Murdoch, he will explain things to you. But if it is true that you are sold today, you must do your best. Your family really needs the money, no?"
The girl nodded and sobbed, clearly distraught.
"Listen to me. You are the only one in your family who can do this. You do not want the same thing to happen to your sister in two years, right?"
She shook her head back and forth.
"People do not want to buy a crying woman. You must put on a brave face out there, you can be strong for your family, no?"
The poor girl spread her arms and nodded reluctantly, shedding more tears.
"I will fetch Mr. Murdoch now. If there is any mistake, he will find it. But if this is your day to be sold, you must wipe away your tears and put on a brave face for the arena. You can cry again after it is over, your future and theirs will be secure then."
The blond nodded weakly again, then collapsed onto the bench when Miguel left. The others quickly gathered round her to hold and reassure her. She tried to say something.
"Don't talk, baby. Don't talk. They still got that devox shit down your throat, you got to give it time to wear off. Have some water." The blond took a heavy pull, then started sobbing.
"Oh, Baby Doll, Baby Doll." 55 20 rocked her back and forth. "I know you're scared. This is my second time, and I'm scared to death. You'll get through it. Your family indenture you?"
She nodded.
"How long? How many years?"
She held up one hand, fingers splayed.
"Oh Baby, I'm sorry. We all are." She held her a bit more. "Want to hear my story?", she whispered. "We got some time." The girl nodded, the others gathered closer to hear her faint words.
"I'm doing three years on a judicial diversion. I didn't do nothing wrong, and I almost got that brand on my butt. My boyfriend got caught with a gun, and I had to plead down to being an accessory. I thought, 'three years and I'll be free.' So, my ass goes up on the block. And first they send me to an obedience school, and that's just what it sounds like. They treat me like a dog. Then they sent me to one of those pony girl places, and they treat me like a horse." 55 20s voice was starting to come back, so she whinnied and pawed the floor with her foot. The blond heaved, laughing and sobbing at the same time, so 55 20 did it again. "Butt naked all day and all night, they make me wear these hoof things on my feet so I got to walk like a horse, they smack me with a crop when I do something they don't like, they even feed me sugar cubes when I do something they like. I'm a horse." She whinnied and stomped again.
"Thing is, I'm still here. You think I picked this hair out for myself? I used to have hair all over my head, beautiful curls that went down to my shoulders. They left me like this 'cause they're going to try to sell me as a pony girl, a trained pony girl. Exotic, like. Now, be honest girl. We's all women here, we all butt naked, everyone going past and looking at our bodies. You a naked little white girl, too, just like us. Tell the truth, you scared about sex?"
She nodded. Of course she was scared about sex. Being a female slave was all about sex, and not on your own terms.
"You a virgin? Tell the truth, your Momma ain't here, and if she's selling you, she knows what you're going to be doing. You a virgin?"
The girl shook her head, crying and blushing at the same time.
"So, you're scared about being used. Let me tell you about what sex is like for a pony girl. You're butt naked, you're wearing your hooves and your bridle, all your horsey shit, but your ass and tits is hanging out there for all to see. Oh, and your tail, you got a tail like a horse, but it's a plug that goes up your butt, and it's got hair hanging down in back like a horse's tail. They make you take an enema every morning to clean your guts out, then you get that plug up the ass, and you wear that all day long. They lead you into the breeding barn, that's what they call it, and they make you bend over and tie you down so you can't move. They tie your feet so you can't kick nobody in the nuts. Then they bring the stallion in, and you hear him behind you. You know what a stallion is at a pony ranch?"
The blond shook her head.
"They got men slaves there, too, all dressed up like horses with their dicks hanging out. Hooves on their feet, plugs up their butt, just like us. They race them. Some of those stallions are fine. They make 'em run all day long, just like us. But you don't know who it is, you can't see which stallion going to breed you. They got you bent over, with your bridle on, all you can see is the floor and what's in front of you. It doesn't matter. You get that far in your training that they breed you, you want it. Pussy be sopping back there. It doesn't matter, you got no choice. You can't say, 'I want to go to the breeding barn today.' You can't say, 'Oh, he looks fine, may I do him?' They take you to the barn, you do it. They don't take you to the barn, you don't. You don't decide."
She took the red-eyed girl's chin in her hand. "Do I look damaged to you? Do I look like an animal, like someone that's lost her mind?"
The girl shook her head, trying to look away.
"I got two years and five months left, and I expect to be wearing that plug up my ass and getting taken to the breeding barn at someplace I've never seen. I don't know if they're shipping me to Dallas or Kentucky or Wyoming. I'm scared to death, girl, but I will survive. And so will you. You ain't no pony girl, I never seen anyone there wearing hooves that looked anything like you. If I can do what I got to do, you can do what you got to do. Never forget that."
The girl threw her arms around 55 20 and held her tight. When they finally broke the embrace, the girl mouthed, "Thank you."
"Girl, I ain't even told you the best part. You can't talk. They make you wear this special collar, everything you say comes out like a whinny or a snort or something. So I'm up there getting fucked, people watching, I don't care. I piss in public like a horse, I shit in public like a horse, I don't care if people watch me fuck any more. I'm all bent over and tied up and getting some dick, and it's fine. I'm all like, 'Oh my God, I'm coming! I'm coming! Oh, shit yes!', and you know what comes out?"
The girl stared into her eyes, inches away, wondering what next.
55 20 whinnied as loud as she could with the devox spray wearing off. "EEEEEiigh! EEEEEiigh!"
Even the blond laughed, Natalie thought that part was hilarious.
"They call it the call of the pony girl. Well, girl, I made the call of the pony girl more than once. Good Lord willing, I'll make it a few more times before I go back home. Now, tell me something is going to happen to you that's more embarrassing than that!"
55 20 couldn't make the fear or the arousal go away, but she certainly cut through the tension in the room. She was right. If, God forbid, Natalie was sold today, she could survive. It would cost her dearly, millions of dollars and years of her life, but she'd still be there at the end. She tried to think of how long the paperwork said Will could indenture her for. Her mind kept coming back to the number, eight years. Eight years! She'd be 39 if that happened, too old for...many things. But she'd still be able to raise venture capital. She could still survive. Maybe she'd write a book about it.
Just as her wits started to return, Miguel returned. And this time, there was a man a few years older than Natalie with him, wearing a suit.
Miguel pointed to the blond. "Mr. Murdoch, this is the one. She thought she was just here for a grading. I thought we should check."
Murdoch sighed. "We can't spend too much time on every single slave, but we do need to be thorough, just to protect ourselves. And you're..."
He scanned the blonde's chest with a wand attached to his table. "87 13. Very well, just give me a moment." He tapped away. "Oh, yes, I talked to your mother myself. Your mother is Angelica Cunningham?"
The blond nodded.
"I'm very sorry. You know your mother's business failed, right?"
87 13 nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek.
"She was collateral for the loan. She was perfectly willing to sell herself and let you take care of your sister while she was gone. But she found out that she wasn't worth that much on the market. They'd have taken everything and you and your sister would be homeless."
The girl wiped away another tear.
"But she got your appraisal when you got graded, and we had a talk. If you do well out there on the auction block, she can pay off everything and still send your sister to college. She's trying to work out an option where she can buy out the last year of your contract if you sell high enough, so that you'd only have to do four years instead of five. But I have to warn you, if you go out there looking like that, it'll be the full five years and there might not be enough college money. You're going to have to dry those tears and be a big girl today. Can you do that? For your family if for nobody else?"
87 13 nodded, and mouthed, "Thank you."
"I wish I had better news. But you're doing the right thing. Good luck out there."
He turned to leave, and Natalie started waving frantically, trying to flag him down. "Mr. Murdoch, wait," she croaked.
He turned to give Miguel a sideways glance. "Don't tell me you've got another one."
"63 28, I tell you, you must be patient. Aw crap, I don't have any devoxer on me."
"Don't worry, I have an app for that." Murdoch tapped on his tablet a few times, then handed it to Natalie.
"I presume you can use one of these things. You have that much space to explain yourself. If I think you are wasting my time, I will direct Miguel to give you five with his strap. And I will watch to ensure he uses proper technique."
There's no need to write a term paper, she thought when she saw the small space for her plea. This is going to go one way or the other, quick.
"Mr. Murdoch, I am 713-54-6328, aka Natalie Johanna Mortellaro. My net worth is approximately $2.6 million, which can be verified from my SIN. Will Stoudemire holds my indenture, and stands to lose at least $1.2 million if I am indentured, less whatever he nets from my sale. There is no financial incentive whatsoever for me to be sold. Also, I am unaware that he or any other person holds a grudge against me that would cause me to be sold out of spite. I arrived today for a grading in preparation for a Texas FINO contract, which can be verified with my attorney, Carmen Vasquez, Esq., of Houston. I believe my conversion from free (held by HCI as part of the Premier Package Grading) to indenture is in error, and respectfully request that any binding sale agreement at auction be canceled."
She handed the table back to him, and studied his face while he read.
Abruptly, he stopped and stared at her, his jaw set.
"63 28, I will give you two choices. If you retract this outrageous story immediately, I will assign five swats, and you may go to the block. If you do not, I will go back to my office and verify this information. You will go to the block. After you are sold, we will deal with my findings. If this is true, there will be no more consequences, and your sale may or may not be canceled, depending on what I determine. If this is a fabrication, you will receive 20 swats, and I will keep you here overnight for additional attitude correction before shipping you to your new owner. I don't care if you grade out as Prime Plus, I will not tolerate this crap. Are we clear?"
If you'll let me out of here, you can give me 50 swats and I'll blow you as part of the deal. Natalie nodded, jabbed her finger at the tablet, and then pointed at the ceiling off in the distance. Take this upstairs and get to work.
He softened, all but imperceptibly. "Very well, then. I can't say I hope you are successful, as that would cost us a great deal of money. But we will deal fairly and I will give this a thorough review. And by dealing fairly, I may decide to see to some of your correction myself if your story is a fabrication. Good day, 63 28."
Miguel scrambled to open the door for him, and turned to lock it as the manager strode away. He turned to Natalie. "Esclavita, I hope you know what you are doing. And do not hold it against me if I must punish you for doing something stupid."
Natalie shrugged. Ballsiest negotiation I've ever made without a single strand of pubic hair on my body. Or anything else but a collar for that matter.
Her bladder called; it had been several hours since she'd had to squat and pee in that cup back in the preparatory area.
Oh. One of the new women was squatting over the drain in the floor. Natalie would just have to wait in line.
Southwest Shipping
Miguel led her to a screened-off area near yet another set of automatic doors, and clipped her lead to a railing, tethering her in place while he entered data into some system.
"I should speak to you about your grade, you are near a dividing line between two grades. Everybody walks in here as Select, that is our default grade. Many stay there, some rise, some fall. After your excellent performance back there, you have risen all the way to Choice Plus. But...this is very important."
He cupped her jaw with his hand, stroking her jawline with his fingers. "You know about this, we will speak honestly to one another about it. Without it, you would definitely be Prime. But as Choice, it would be unusual for your owner to have this fixed."
It was a minor flaw, probably the only thing about her face that she would change if she could. But was this guy talking about plastic surgery? Had she gone into acting or journalism, she might have considered it. But she was very professional and meticulous about her appearance, and it hadn't kept her from earning millions, first at John Pierpont and later on her own.
"Ah, but your grade is not complete. You will go on display now, and the buyers will give their own ratings. And I see that you are on extended display, and that will almost certainly raise your grade to Prime. Now, Prime is something different, you will command a very high price. You will be a big investment for whoever purchases you. They will be willing to spend money to take care of this tiny flaw, it is protection for their investment. And with that gone, you might even command an even higher grade, no? Life is very different for a Prime, you will see."
My God, he is talking about plastic surgery. It wouldn't be worth her time and money, but if she had nothing to do but service someone else, why wouldn't she want that beauty treatment, paid for by someone else, painful though the recovery might be? She wondered what else they might do to her, perhaps breast augmentation, maybe lipo on her hips. She felt her arousal beginning to grow again. If she was really a slave, they would treat her like a walking, talking Barbie doll, tinkering with her as they pleased. She hoped they would exercise good taste, she didn't want to be transformed into some bimbo slut.
"...so, it is important that you perform well out there. They will inspect you very closely, touch every inch of your body. We will not let them harm you, no, no, you are far too valuable. But remember to smile, remember you want to be sold, sold to someone who will value you and keep you well. You will have several hours to convince them, that will bring your grade to the highest level. Do you understand? You must not displease potential buyers."
She couldn't answer him, but she nodded, acknowledging what was going to happen. She could play this game for the sake of bringing up her grade. But if she were really to be sold today, the situation would be serious and terrifying. She would have to beg each buyer with her eyes, and pissing off one of them might get her sent to someplace dreadful. She began to understand Andrea's answer to her in her office yesterday. About this much. She saw the woman's fingers in her mind, about a centimeter apart. About that much. This was a game. But for Andrea, being graded and inspected had been terrifyingly real, with consequences that had led to her being where she was today...like being forced to kneel at Worldwide to lick Natalie's pussy last week.
About this much.
Unhitched from the railing, he led her through the automatic doors out onto the sales floor, to post number 15 as the sign proclaimed. He released her wrists, then cuffed her hands in front before attaching a cable that led up to a pulley at the top of the post. A motor drew her hands up, up over her head, and he guided her feet to cuffs on the floor that would hold her legs apart, displaying her charms to any who cared to examine them. Then he raised her hands again, leaving her weight just barely on her heels. Natalie thought herself already quite exposed and vulnerable until he pressed back on her collar, which pulled back to the post and stuck with a magnetic "clunk". Now she found she could turn her head to watch buyers and merchandise in the sales area, but not look down to her body should someone touch her. She felt the cool air and her sex and squirmed. Bound like this, if someone approached from out of her view and squatted to toy with her cunt, she could feel everything but not see who was molesting her.
Miguel seemed to give everything one last check and then met her gaze. "One hour. I will be back to give you a little break." Then he left, and the crowd that had gathered around to gawk at the nude morsel surged forward for a closer look.
From what she could see, they were younger men, perhaps college age or so, and their hands were everywhere. It was overwhelming, at least three or four hands on her breasts, more hands on her inner thighs, a hand cupping her sex, a finger probing for her vagina. She had to fight down a wave of terror to smile at those faces she could see, to play the role of enjoying this rude groping. Worse, she was getting aroused by it, hands and fingers exploring her hard nipples, moisture seeping out from her crevice. The combination of arousal and fear was potent, they seemed to feed on each other. If rape is inevitable...better have a wet pussy.
The men...and her audience seemed to be exclusively male...kept up a constant chatter.
"Let me feel some of that Yankee pussy."
"Feel how hard her tits are, she wants it right now."
"Hey, Sweetheart, I'll make you dance on my block." Someone made a "whoo-kisch" sound, emulating a whip, and the others laughed.
She squirmed, and became aware of a hulking brute with a black HCI t-shirt.
"Clear out, give her some room. Hey!" He shouted, angry at something. Natalie jumped in her bonds. She was taller than average for a woman, but he loomed over her.
"Serious buyers only! Back up!"
One of the women whose grading had just started when Natalie's grading had finished was being strung up to another post. The horde (and that's how Natalie thought of them) melted away to gawk and fondle the new arrival. The security guard followed, ready to pounce if they went too far.
Someone gave her ass a double pat, a less insistent touch than she'd just experienced. "Hang in there. First time sold? Oh, I see you're just being graded." His face came into view, more handsome but perched upon a frame that was nearly as large as the other man in black security shirt. "You'll get those every time you're strung up, worst thing that happens is one of them gets a finger up your ass before we throw them out. I'll get you some real buyers, they're not such a bunch of assholes, and they'll help your grade." He disappeared.
She was approached by a couple, older than the gropers and better dressed. The woman began taking pictures of Natalie with her phone.
"Mel, what are you doing?" The man jostled her collar. "She's just getting graded, she's not for sale."
"Someone might change their mind, and this one would be just right for us. How are you doing, Honey?"
Natalie smiled back at the woman. Fine, thank you, if you're not going to shove dirty fingers up my...you know. She felt the woman's hands working down her ribcage to her flanks.
"She works out, keeps herself in shape."
The man seemed annoyed. "We're not buying a racing pony."
"The way she's built, she'd be more for dressage instead of racing, anyway. But what I'm interested in is..." There was a pause, and the woman's voice returned. "You can tell she's into this, look how wet she is." The woman's finger rubbed slickness up and down Natalie's inner thigh. "Good clean scent, even though she's ready to fuck. The woman began diddling Natalie's button as she rose back into view.
"You like that, Sweetie? We run a high end place, we have standards. The customers are all clean, and you only have to do a half dozen a day. Good job for someone with a grade like yours."
Oh, God, if you will do that to me every day, I will whore for you and only for you. Part of her understood she could never work in a brothel, but she had to seem eager, had to keep playing the game.
"Mel, look at her. You think you're the only buyer she's going to go all goo-goo over? She's not stupid, she just wants a good grade. There's no way she's going to stay Choice, we can't afford her."
The woman stood, disappointed. "I suppose you're right." She patted Natalie's cheek as if she was a child. "But if you do get sold for something we can afford, we're taking you home with us." Something caught the woman's eye. "Oh, Frank, look at this one..."
The buyers became more serious as time passed. Some inspected her teeth, a few even listened to her heart with a stethoscope. The groping was more professional, almost like being at a doctor's office. One even slipped at device into her vagina and asked her to squeeze, apparently not trusting HCI's appraisal of her cunt. This was tiring, she was reminded of interviewing for John Pierpont, her every move scrutinized for some misstep.
Please buy me. We'll get back to you.
See how much I want you! Let me check with corporate.
Creepiest were the guys who came near the end, wearing sunglasses inside the building and speaking with some unseen personage over a lapel mike and earbud arrangement. They spoke in some arcane jargon that she didn't recognize, stopping to press a breast or feel the tone of her arm in response to some request from...somewhere.
It's not personal. It's strictly business. But if her ass had really been on the line, it would be very, very personal...for her.
Miguel returned. "Break time. You must get getting tired up there." He lowered her hands and released her collar from the post. "I'm going to let you rest for a few minutes, relax before coming out here." He freed her feet and fastened her hands behind her back again.
He led her into a maze of cages, all jumbled this way and that, some even stacked atop each other with stairs and walkways leading to the upper level. Slaves stared at her as she passed, mostly women, a few men. He stopped her outside a cage marked O2, and opened the door.
There were plastic benches along two of the walls, and a drain in the floor. The benches had eyelets, but he didn't bother with them, merely uncuffing her.
"Fifteen minutes, then you go back on display. Please stretch and make yourself as comfortable as possible, I know it is tiring out there. Here, I have some water for you."
He left her with a water bottle and locked the door behind him. She thought it would have been better if he'd have left breakfast, but took a long pull from the bottle just the same. After a few minutes of working the kinks out of her body, she sniffed the bench to see if it was clean enough to sit on. It smelled of disinfectant, so she stretched out, feeling odd to be lying naked as handlers and slaves passed by. Just as she began to feel comfortable, Miguel reappeared with another nude woman, brown but not Hispanic. Natalie wondered if she had come from the Middle East, or possibly the Indian subcontinent.
"I am going to put you in here with 63 28," he announced. "Like you, she is also on extended display. I can trust you two to behave, no? If we have to break you two up for fighting, it will ruin your score." He grinned, implying he was only joking. The other woman looked terrified, Natalie wondered if she came across the same way. Miguel departed, leaving the two of them together.
Natalie pointed at her throat, stuck out her tongue, and waved her hand as a movie director might when cutting action for a scene. The other woman pointed to her throat and shrugged. So much for casual conversation. Natalie pointed to herself, flashed the fingers on both hands three times, then held up one finger. 31. The other woman looked at her with a puzzled expression, then understanding dawned and she flashed her hands three times, then held up four fingers. Natalie had thought they were close in age.
She saw that the other woman had a pink collar. Natalie held up her own collar. The other woman slid closer on her bench and pointed to the red stripe. Natalie thought for a moment, smiled and gave a thumbs-up signal, then primped her hair. To complete the image, she leaned back and pantomimed tossing a bon-bon into her mouth. The other woman smiled. Too rich for my blood.
The other woman pointed to her wrist. Time? Time now, or how long have I been here? Natalie had no way of telling either, but guessed that she'd been there about 3 hours, and held up three fingers. The other woman pointed to herself and held up three fingers as well. She must have gotten in right behind me. Maybe she'd been in the car that had pulled in behind the quartet.
Natalie took another pull on the bottle, and handed it to the newcomer, who drank greedily. She flashed two thumbs up in return, and spread her arms as if asking for a hug. Why not?, Natalie thought, and rose to give her a quick embrace. When they separated, the woman pointed to Natalie's nipples, then held two fists together in some sort of gesture she didn't understand. Then the woman pointed to Natalie's crotch, and rubbed her thumb against her first two fingers. Wet? Natalie nodded, and plunged two fingers from her left hand into her honeypot (she wanted to keep her right hand clean). She held them up, glistening, then pointed with her right hand to the woman's crotch. She blushed, then inserted two fingers into her own snatch as Natalie watched, holding them up to much greater embarrassment as her whole chest flushed.
Natalie reached over, gently grasped the woman's hand, and pulled it to her mouth as the other woman's eyes opened wide. She has to be clean, nobody with a skanky pussy could possibly get past that preparation room. She took the upright fingers into her mouth, never breaking eye contact with the woman. If possible, the other woman's golden skin turned even redder at that, and she looked away, ashamed to admit that she was as aroused as Natalie. Natalie drew her in and embraced her.
Then the stranger started kissing her, and it was nice. She felt the other woman's breasts against her, the nipples clearly erect. And she tasted so good!
"Esclavitas enamoradas! Perhaps we should sell you two together as a set. So sorry to break you up, but poor 63 28 must go on display again." Miguel opened the door. "Back hands, esclavita."
Fifteen minutes! Fifteen minutes with a total stranger, and they were ready to go at it. Natalie stared at the ground, trying to hide her embarrassment while Miguel fastened her hands behind her back. What was with this place? She grinned to herself. Maybe they really had put something in the water!
He led her through the cages on a leash. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, chiquita. Everybody enjoys watching pretty slaves give each other pleasure, and sometimes that's the only way a slave can get some relief, no? Ah, well, back to work. Perhaps you can be sold someplace where there are other pretty slaves to relax with after a long day."
He returned her to post 15, and once again a crowd of young men began pawing her. She wondered if she should drop the "I'm happy to have you finger me" act to chase them off, then thought that it might be possible for one of them to be offended and give her a bad review. She knew she only had to endure a few minutes of heavy-handed groping, but it seemed like an eternity. One of them had started to worm a finger up her back passage (thankfully, still slightly lubricated) before one of the guards proclaimed, "I said no insertions, asshole!" and gave him the bum's rush, all the way out the front door. She knew the goons might take her for their own use at some point, but as protective as they were, she was almost willing to give out a few blow jobs out of sheer gratitude.
Then more serious buyers stopped by, and the "job interview" portion of her pole dance resumed. This time the highlights were the gays who ran a suck bar (she wondered if they also had another establishment that catered to their own proclivities), the "trainer" who wanted a "filly" for his stable (and yes, that meant being a human pony), and (God forbid) a buyer from Slaves R Us. She couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like to work at a rent-a-slave business and was glad when he decided she was probably overpriced.
Soon it was time for another break, and Miguel returned her to the cage. This time there was already an occupant, a slender black woman with an orange mohawk. She seemed completely at ease, and Natalie wondered if she'd chosen the unusual hairstyle or merely become accustomed to it after having worn it for some time.
"I have something new for you," he said as he unfastened her hands. "Collar!"
Instinctively she dropped to her knees, lifting her hair with one hand. Please buy me and make me your slut, Master! He unfastened her collar and lifted it from her neck. She wondered what the protocol was for completing her grading, would he just walk her nude and uncollared up to the front? And when would the damn devox stuff wear off? She understood why she was silenced when the buyers pawed her over, it would be easy to throw the action to one or another if she decided for herself who her buyer should be, but was that really necessary for women who were just being graded?
She was jolted back to the present when Miguel fastened a new collar around her neck, one that seemed a little heavier. "Present!"
She rose and faced him, fingers behind her head and breasts jutting as the position demanded.
"I am required to tell you that you are at the Houston location of HCI Incorporated for auction and sale. I must tell you by law that the collar you are wearing can deliver a powerful and extremely painful shock if you attempt to leave the building without permission. Additionally, all HCI employees are authorized to use any means necessary to compel you to comply with all orders given to you, and those means include electrical shock and whipping. If you follow my instructions you will not be hurt. Do you understand? You may nod your head if you understand, esclavita."
She nodded, confused. So she had to go through a mock auction first, then be released? It would have been nice if she'd have been given some sort of timeline for the day.
"Now, let me check your voice since it has been several hours. Very softly, so as to not damage your voice, tell me your number."
Natalie managed a hoarse whisper that barely sounded like "63 28".
"Yes, you are getting your voice back. We do not like to use more than one shot of the yellow devoxer in a day, as that can cause damage. So, you will go out one more time and then we will set your auction." He left her in the cage with the taller woman, who looked like she might have played volleyball or basketball for a team some time ago.
They established that her new companion was also devoxed, 25 years old, and had done the ponygirl thing, as she had pranced in place to demonstrate. If that had been her last owner, that would explain the unusual hair. Natalie noticed that she wore a red collar, and wondered why her own had just been changed out. She distinctly remembered that the Premier package came with a meal; if she didn't get it, she was going to complain to Will when this was all over.
Soon Miguel returned with the Middle Eastern woman (Natalie didn't really know where she was from, but thought of her that way). He checked her voice, and like Natalie was able to croak out "15 54".
"Ah, you are getting your voice back, too. I was telling your friend here that your display will be over when it returns, so you will also have only one more session out there, and then I will return you to the preparation area. Please do your best, as this will be your last opportunity to improve your grade today."
Wait, what? 15 54 would be taken back, but she was going to auction? She needed to understand how this all worked. Natalie gestured for Miguel's attention, then pointed to 15 54's collar, then to her own, then shrugged, palms up.
"63 28, I know you wish to ask questions, but you are devoxed and even if you could speak, slaves are to be seen and not heard. You wish to know why your collar was changed?"
Natalie nodded vigorously. Well, that wasn't what she really wanted to know, but that would do for a start.
"Well, apparently your owner received such fine bids that he decided to put you up for sale. And if his expectations are met, your grade may go even higher. It is possible that you may grade out at straight Prime instead of Prime Minus if the winning bid is high enough. I told you, esclavita, your life is about to change. You will have a better owner now, just one more hour of display and then your auction."
Natalie stood in shock, unable to comprehend what was happening. How could she be sold if she wasn't a slave? She moved to cry out, "Wait!", but he had already stepped outside the cage and closed the door behind him. She glanced around. The middle-eastern lady seemed to be as bewildered as she was, and the black woman just shrugged in the universal gesture for, "I don't know."
She took stock of her situation. She had to hang from the pole for one more hour, then the mock auction thing. And her voice was coming back, maybe she could ask someone a few questions before it started.
A sense of horror started creeping over her. What if the mock auction was a real one? What if Will had somehow sold her out? That made no sense, he'd told her in as many words that she was worth more to him free than as a slave. What if something had happened to Will, or if HCI had somehow pulled a fast one on him?
She realized, to her distress, that as a sense of doom overwhelmed her, that she was becoming aroused. I'd better have a wet pussy, she thought. I'm about to become somebody's fuck slut.
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Three made for a different dynamic in the cage than two. Natalie sat awkwardly between the other two women, and the Middle Eastern one slid closer to give her a hug. Had she really seemed that distraught? Natalie thought she must have, the hug seemed to be one of support. But then the black girl surprised her by glancing in their direction, giving them a half smile, then seemingly oblivious to them, propping up one leg on the bench while she proceeded to "flick the bean".
Natalie stared, the black woman seemed to not notice. Natalie wondered if she had become a slave because of casual indifference to exposing herself, or was so nonchalant about performing for an audience because she'd been trained that way as a slave. Then it occurred to her...this woman had been treated as a human animal, dressed like a horse and made to act like one. She'd probably even been forbidden to speak for hours on end. When else would she have an opportunity to masturbate? Natalie realized with horror that the other woman might not have had the chance to touch herself until being brought here for sale. If so, the woman was either preparing herself for sale, straining to bring in a high bid, or else exercising some autonomy over her own body that had been denied for some time. Possibly both.
Natalie ran her crossed hands up her own torso, cupping her breasts when she reached them. She closed her eyes and started fingering her nipples, already stiff from all the sexual energy at HCI. If a pony-human could exercise some autonomy over her own body, so could she. Natalie closed her eyes and dove into her own arousal.
She was surprised to find a hand on hers, lifting it away from her breast. She opened her eyes to see the Middle Eastern woman take her hand in hers, and lower her face to nuzzle Natalie's arm. The woman's eyes moved from Natalie's face to her breast and back, questing. Natalie nodded. What did I just agree to? Still, she was not surprised when the woman moved to her breast, kissing and licking the nipple. Natalie closed her eyes again in pleasure.
She opened them again as she became aware of a presence beside her. It was the tall black woman, stooping beside her. Their eyes met, the poor thing was consumed with need. Was she allowed any relief as a pony girl?, Natalie wondered. Or was she hobbled and 'bred', whether she wanted to be or not? She began stroking the stranger's muscular back as the third woman looked up, fearful, wondering what the interloper would do.
Natalie ran her hand up to the athlete's head, intertwined her fingers in the orange mane, and pulled the woman close. She was beautiful, sad, fearful, as Natalie opened her mouth and kissed her, exploring her with her tongue. You're not a freak, they just dressed you up as one. Or undressed her, as the case may be. Natalie felt a hand at her groin, she parted her thighs to find two fingers slip inside her, slick with her own wetness. When she broke the kiss, she found that it was the broader golden woman who was pleasuring her, not the taller dark one. And orange-hair started suckling the third partner, who closed her eyes with the pleasure even as she fingered Natalie.
Fifteen minutes. We're having a Lesbian orgy with three strangers during a fifteen minute break. Natalie marveled as she approached a peak. It seemed clear that the woman with the dark areolas was headed back to the prep area and freedom after another stint on the posts, and the black woman was being sold, headed to an uncertain destination on her slave journey that might last for another year or for ten. Natalie didn't know, she didn't even know if the woman she was now probing with her right hand even knew for how long. And herself? She had to be going home after this auction thing, nothing else made sense. But she was still wearing a different collar. She thought Miguel was confused or misinformed, but terrified that he wasn't. And that made her as horny as she could ever remember.
The black woman came first. Natalie felt her spasm about her fingers just as Andrea had just a few days ago. Before the other woman could finish, Natalie withdrew her fingers and used them to rub the woman's clit, jamming her thumb in the woman's vacated opening, flexing the digit in an attempt to locate the woman's g-spot. She still felt the black woman's last few contractions, whether she had found it or not no longer mattered. The other two were kissing, the brown woman still fingering Natalie as Natalie approached her own climax.
"Tres esclavitas enamoradas!", Miguel exclaimed. He was clearly amused by their reaction, Natalie realized as she flushed. "I am so sorry to interrupt you, my dears, but it is time for you to get back to work. 55 20, Back Hands!"
Orange Mohawk rose, her back to the door, and mouthed "Thank you" as she crossed her hands behind her back. Miguel cuffed her and clipped on a lead, then led her out. With a sweeping gesture, he announced, "Ladies, as you were", winking as he turned away.
Natalie and 15 54 regarded each other, the mood clearly spoiled. In a moment he would return for one of them, and it would take longer than that to push either one over the edge. The other woman took her hand, and they embraced.
But who was comforting who? Although her day seemed more stressful than she'd anticipated, the other woman was definitely going home tonight. It was Natalie, who despite assurances, just wasn't sure. And it seemed likely that no matter how things played out, that they would never see each other again. Perhaps that was why they held each other so tightly.
"Dos esclavitas enamoradas! Come, 63 28, I must regretfully break up such a lovely couple."
Natalie stood and dutifully turned her back to the door, presenting her wrists for binding. "Good bye," she mouthed to 15 54, hoping the other woman would understand her.
"Just one more time, and then you can rest before you go on the block. You'll need to be at your best for that." He hoisted her hands high above her for the third time.
"Wait, " she croaked.
"Sh-sh-sh! Did I not tell you that you could ruin that beautiful voice if you spoke too soon? I can see that something troubles you. We can speak again before you go on the block, if I can, I will answer your question then. Now, you must look good for the buyers, no? You will do that for me?"
Natalie nodded reluctantly. Nude and restrained as she was, she was in no position to argue.
He turned. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Lot 22, for sale immediately after display." He tapped the monitor above her on the post. "As you can see, graded just this morning, excellent marks, a superb investment." Then he walked away.
This time she didn't get a finger up the ass, but one groper entered her vagina and was searching in vain for her g-spot when he was told to move on. His touch wasn't completely unwelcome, but even as horny as she was, it was a relief when he left.
The first serious buyers were a wealthy family who seemed to want to purchase a graduation present for their son. The kid was quite a dick, but she didn't panic until she heard the father mumble, "At least you can't wrap her around a tree like that Corvette. You're lucky to be alive." If that's the way he treats all his toys...
Then there was another corporate buyer. He almost seemed more interested in his phone than in her, constantly yakking to someone about her qualities and what price she might go for. It was only when he stepped back that she could read his name tag, which advertised that he was a buyer for the Nevada Club, a national brothel chain. That wasn't good, it was upscale enough that she might meet someone she knew there.
It seemed like her last hour was almost over when the final buyers appeared, a pair. They pinched and prodded her flesh, paying special attention to her breasts and ass cheeks. She smiled at them, given them her best "please buy me" look until the one said that the problem with the high end girls was that they didn't have enough padding to take a good whipping, and the other one said you could always recycle them in a lower priced show after they'd been "used up". Natalie wondered what they could be talking about and how that couldn't be illegal slave abuse, until one of the pair introduced himself to a bystander as a buyer for Whips n Chains, a BDSM franchise that the media claimed spent more on legal defense than on slave welfare. The Nevada Club didn't seem like such a bad idea after that.
"You have done well, it is all but a formality that you will be sold as Prime," announced Miguel as he unfastened her wrists." She ached, she'd hoped to see Will as she hung on display and feared being taken down without spotting him, but three hours of standing in place had taken its toll. There was still a small chance she would see him in time for him to explain what was happening.
He took her to "H19", a larger cage deeper into the complex, empty save for 55 20. As soon as Miguel left, the tall woman handed Natalie a water bottle, then held her in a close embrace.
"Thanks for helping me out back there," she whispered into Natalie's ear.
"You're welc..., you're welcome," she croaked back.
The black girl whispered some more. "Not yet, you're voice isn't back. Drink the water, it helps. First time sold?"
Natalie gave the palms-up shrug. Her facial expression matched her bewilderment.
"You never been sold before?"
Natalie shook her head.
"You don't know what's going on?"
She nodded, violently.
"Someone probably done you dirty. Brought you here for a grade and signed you over. Money problems?"
No! She shook her head.
"Have a fight? Someone out to get you?"
She shook her head, less vigorously. All her life, she'd tried to treat people fairly; she'd seen enough examples of bad behavior that she knew she didn't want to go down that road. And if anyone was holding a grudge, they certainly hadn't told her about it.
The tall woman held her close, stroking her back and resting her hand on Natalie's butt. "I don't know what to say. Be strong, you'll get through this. I did it once before, it's crazy but you make do."
A different handler brought a third woman to the cage, and a few hand gestures later, they determined she couldn't talk, either. Natalie stood with her face nearly touching hers while 55 20 whispered into her ear, straining to hear every word. 55 20 thought they'd be sold at one o'clock, but how she knew that or what time it was now were both mysteries.
A fourth woman was brought to the cage, and some time later Miguel arrived with a crying blond, who looked to be fresh out of high school.
"Now, senorita, you must be brave. I will summon Mr. Murdoch, he will explain things to you. But if it is true that you are sold today, you must do your best. Your family really needs the money, no?"
The girl nodded and sobbed, clearly distraught.
"Listen to me. You are the only one in your family who can do this. You do not want the same thing to happen to your sister in two years, right?"
She shook her head back and forth.
"People do not want to buy a crying woman. You must put on a brave face out there, you can be strong for your family, no?"
The poor girl spread her arms and nodded reluctantly, shedding more tears.
"I will fetch Mr. Murdoch now. If there is any mistake, he will find it. But if this is your day to be sold, you must wipe away your tears and put on a brave face for the arena. You can cry again after it is over, your future and theirs will be secure then."
The blond nodded weakly again, then collapsed onto the bench when Miguel left. The others quickly gathered round her to hold and reassure her. She tried to say something.
"Don't talk, baby. Don't talk. They still got that devox shit down your throat, you got to give it time to wear off. Have some water." The blond took a heavy pull, then started sobbing.
"Oh, Baby Doll, Baby Doll." 55 20 rocked her back and forth. "I know you're scared. This is my second time, and I'm scared to death. You'll get through it. Your family indenture you?"
She nodded.
"How long? How many years?"
She held up one hand, fingers splayed.
"Oh Baby, I'm sorry. We all are." She held her a bit more. "Want to hear my story?", she whispered. "We got some time." The girl nodded, the others gathered closer to hear her faint words.
"I'm doing three years on a judicial diversion. I didn't do nothing wrong, and I almost got that brand on my butt. My boyfriend got caught with a gun, and I had to plead down to being an accessory. I thought, 'three years and I'll be free.' So, my ass goes up on the block. And first they send me to an obedience school, and that's just what it sounds like. They treat me like a dog. Then they sent me to one of those pony girl places, and they treat me like a horse." 55 20s voice was starting to come back, so she whinnied and pawed the floor with her foot. The blond heaved, laughing and sobbing at the same time, so 55 20 did it again. "Butt naked all day and all night, they make me wear these hoof things on my feet so I got to walk like a horse, they smack me with a crop when I do something they don't like, they even feed me sugar cubes when I do something they like. I'm a horse." She whinnied and stomped again.
"Thing is, I'm still here. You think I picked this hair out for myself? I used to have hair all over my head, beautiful curls that went down to my shoulders. They left me like this 'cause they're going to try to sell me as a pony girl, a trained pony girl. Exotic, like. Now, be honest girl. We's all women here, we all butt naked, everyone going past and looking at our bodies. You a naked little white girl, too, just like us. Tell the truth, you scared about sex?"
She nodded. Of course she was scared about sex. Being a female slave was all about sex, and not on your own terms.
"You a virgin? Tell the truth, your Momma ain't here, and if she's selling you, she knows what you're going to be doing. You a virgin?"
The girl shook her head, crying and blushing at the same time.
"So, you're scared about being used. Let me tell you about what sex is like for a pony girl. You're butt naked, you're wearing your hooves and your bridle, all your horsey shit, but your ass and tits is hanging out there for all to see. Oh, and your tail, you got a tail like a horse, but it's a plug that goes up your butt, and it's got hair hanging down in back like a horse's tail. They make you take an enema every morning to clean your guts out, then you get that plug up the ass, and you wear that all day long. They lead you into the breeding barn, that's what they call it, and they make you bend over and tie you down so you can't move. They tie your feet so you can't kick nobody in the nuts. Then they bring the stallion in, and you hear him behind you. You know what a stallion is at a pony ranch?"
The blond shook her head.
"They got men slaves there, too, all dressed up like horses with their dicks hanging out. Hooves on their feet, plugs up their butt, just like us. They race them. Some of those stallions are fine. They make 'em run all day long, just like us. But you don't know who it is, you can't see which stallion going to breed you. They got you bent over, with your bridle on, all you can see is the floor and what's in front of you. It doesn't matter. You get that far in your training that they breed you, you want it. Pussy be sopping back there. It doesn't matter, you got no choice. You can't say, 'I want to go to the breeding barn today.' You can't say, 'Oh, he looks fine, may I do him?' They take you to the barn, you do it. They don't take you to the barn, you don't. You don't decide."
She took the red-eyed girl's chin in her hand. "Do I look damaged to you? Do I look like an animal, like someone that's lost her mind?"
The girl shook her head, trying to look away.
"I got two years and five months left, and I expect to be wearing that plug up my ass and getting taken to the breeding barn at someplace I've never seen. I don't know if they're shipping me to Dallas or Kentucky or Wyoming. I'm scared to death, girl, but I will survive. And so will you. You ain't no pony girl, I never seen anyone there wearing hooves that looked anything like you. If I can do what I got to do, you can do what you got to do. Never forget that."
The girl threw her arms around 55 20 and held her tight. When they finally broke the embrace, the girl mouthed, "Thank you."
"Girl, I ain't even told you the best part. You can't talk. They make you wear this special collar, everything you say comes out like a whinny or a snort or something. So I'm up there getting fucked, people watching, I don't care. I piss in public like a horse, I shit in public like a horse, I don't care if people watch me fuck any more. I'm all bent over and tied up and getting some dick, and it's fine. I'm all like, 'Oh my God, I'm coming! I'm coming! Oh, shit yes!', and you know what comes out?"
The girl stared into her eyes, inches away, wondering what next.
55 20 whinnied as loud as she could with the devox spray wearing off. "EEEEEiigh! EEEEEiigh!"
Even the blond laughed, Natalie thought that part was hilarious.
"They call it the call of the pony girl. Well, girl, I made the call of the pony girl more than once. Good Lord willing, I'll make it a few more times before I go back home. Now, tell me something is going to happen to you that's more embarrassing than that!"
55 20 couldn't make the fear or the arousal go away, but she certainly cut through the tension in the room. She was right. If, God forbid, Natalie was sold today, she could survive. It would cost her dearly, millions of dollars and years of her life, but she'd still be there at the end. She tried to think of how long the paperwork said Will could indenture her for. Her mind kept coming back to the number, eight years. Eight years! She'd be 39 if that happened, too old for...many things. But she'd still be able to raise venture capital. She could still survive. Maybe she'd write a book about it.
Just as her wits started to return, Miguel returned. And this time, there was a man a few years older than Natalie with him, wearing a suit.
Miguel pointed to the blond. "Mr. Murdoch, this is the one. She thought she was just here for a grading. I thought we should check."
Murdoch sighed. "We can't spend too much time on every single slave, but we do need to be thorough, just to protect ourselves. And you're..."
He scanned the blonde's chest with a wand attached to his table. "87 13. Very well, just give me a moment." He tapped away. "Oh, yes, I talked to your mother myself. Your mother is Angelica Cunningham?"
The blond nodded.
"I'm very sorry. You know your mother's business failed, right?"
87 13 nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek.
"She was collateral for the loan. She was perfectly willing to sell herself and let you take care of your sister while she was gone. But she found out that she wasn't worth that much on the market. They'd have taken everything and you and your sister would be homeless."
The girl wiped away another tear.
"But she got your appraisal when you got graded, and we had a talk. If you do well out there on the auction block, she can pay off everything and still send your sister to college. She's trying to work out an option where she can buy out the last year of your contract if you sell high enough, so that you'd only have to do four years instead of five. But I have to warn you, if you go out there looking like that, it'll be the full five years and there might not be enough college money. You're going to have to dry those tears and be a big girl today. Can you do that? For your family if for nobody else?"
87 13 nodded, and mouthed, "Thank you."
"I wish I had better news. But you're doing the right thing. Good luck out there."
He turned to leave, and Natalie started waving frantically, trying to flag him down. "Mr. Murdoch, wait," she croaked.
He turned to give Miguel a sideways glance. "Don't tell me you've got another one."
"63 28, I tell you, you must be patient. Aw crap, I don't have any devoxer on me."
"Don't worry, I have an app for that." Murdoch tapped on his tablet a few times, then handed it to Natalie.
"I presume you can use one of these things. You have that much space to explain yourself. If I think you are wasting my time, I will direct Miguel to give you five with his strap. And I will watch to ensure he uses proper technique."
There's no need to write a term paper, she thought when she saw the small space for her plea. This is going to go one way or the other, quick.
"Mr. Murdoch, I am 713-54-6328, aka Natalie Johanna Mortellaro. My net worth is approximately $2.6 million, which can be verified from my SIN. Will Stoudemire holds my indenture, and stands to lose at least $1.2 million if I am indentured, less whatever he nets from my sale. There is no financial incentive whatsoever for me to be sold. Also, I am unaware that he or any other person holds a grudge against me that would cause me to be sold out of spite. I arrived today for a grading in preparation for a Texas FINO contract, which can be verified with my attorney, Carmen Vasquez, Esq., of Houston. I believe my conversion from free (held by HCI as part of the Premier Package Grading) to indenture is in error, and respectfully request that any binding sale agreement at auction be canceled."
She handed the table back to him, and studied his face while he read.
Abruptly, he stopped and stared at her, his jaw set.
"63 28, I will give you two choices. If you retract this outrageous story immediately, I will assign five swats, and you may go to the block. If you do not, I will go back to my office and verify this information. You will go to the block. After you are sold, we will deal with my findings. If this is true, there will be no more consequences, and your sale may or may not be canceled, depending on what I determine. If this is a fabrication, you will receive 20 swats, and I will keep you here overnight for additional attitude correction before shipping you to your new owner. I don't care if you grade out as Prime Plus, I will not tolerate this crap. Are we clear?"
If you'll let me out of here, you can give me 50 swats and I'll blow you as part of the deal. Natalie nodded, jabbed her finger at the tablet, and then pointed at the ceiling off in the distance. Take this upstairs and get to work.
He softened, all but imperceptibly. "Very well, then. I can't say I hope you are successful, as that would cost us a great deal of money. But we will deal fairly and I will give this a thorough review. And by dealing fairly, I may decide to see to some of your correction myself if your story is a fabrication. Good day, 63 28."
Miguel scrambled to open the door for him, and turned to lock it as the manager strode away. He turned to Natalie. "Esclavita, I hope you know what you are doing. And do not hold it against me if I must punish you for doing something stupid."
Natalie shrugged. Ballsiest negotiation I've ever made without a single strand of pubic hair on my body. Or anything else but a collar for that matter.
Her bladder called; it had been several hours since she'd had to squat and pee in that cup back in the preparatory area.
Oh. One of the new women was squatting over the drain in the floor. Natalie would just have to wait in line.
Again, not to bury the lead, great job!!