“Well, you’ve had two weeks, let’s see what you’ve given us.” Mr. Clark told Mistress Knight. The head of the training camp was seated behind his desk. Behind him, a large window looked out over the compound, the trainers hard at work with their charges.
“Yes sir.” Mistress Knight replied. She turned and clapped her hands twice. The door to the office opened and the two sisters stepped through. They were nude, apart from the cuffs on their wrists, securing their hands behind their backs and on their ankles. And the slave collars of course. The two slaves kept their heads bowed low as they shuffled forward, coming to a halt in front of the desk.
Mr. Clark studied the girls carefully, noted with pleasure how they two kept their legs spread a foot apart, to give a clear line of sight to their clean-shaven sexes. They leaned forward, placing most of their weight on the balls of their feet, keeping their bare chests thrust forward at the Master and Mistress.
“How may these slaves serve Master?” The older sister asked in a quiet, submissive voice.
Mr. Clark rolled his chair back a few feet. “You!” He ordered, pointing at Lisa, “Come here.” From the way he spread his legs as he said this left no doubts what he wanted her to do. Without hesitation, Lisa stepped forward, sinking to her knees to crawl under the desk to the older man. As he unzipped his pants, she lowered her head between his legs, taking his exposed manhood in her mouth.
“You!” The man pointed at Andrea as her sister started to suck him off. “Bend over the desk.” Again, there was no mistaking his intent. Silently, Andrea stepped towards the desk. She bent over the front of it, spreading her legs as wide as she could, her naked bottom thrust up into the air.
When Lisa had brought the Camp’s head fully erect, he ordered her back. Rising from the chair, he stepped around the desk to where Andrea was bent over. She tensed, her conditioning unable to entirely erase her anxiety as he positioned the tip of his penis against the lips of her sex. Without warning, he slid into her. She stifled her gasp as he began to pump away at her. After a few minutes, he stiffened, climaxing inside of her.
Mr. Clark stepped back and sank into his chair, a smile of satisfaction across his face. He turned back to face Mistress Knight. “Well done. You’ve done a fantastic job with these two. I’m sure they’ll be a hit at next week’s big sale!” Andrea and Lisa, meanwhile, had returned to their original position, kneeling in front of the desk, idly awaiting their next order.
Ten minutes later, after all the paperwork had been filled out and Mr. Clark had had another chance to sample his camp’s wares before sending them off to market, Mistress Knight led the sisters from the offices to the main gates. At the gate, a handler with a handheld scanner checked the tags on the sisters’ collars and marked them as outgoing. “Real shame…” He said, smiling. “It’s always nice having a nice pair of quality meat around the camp. Hope the next shipment has some bitches as good looking as you two.” He turned and tapped a few keys on his computer. “There!” He told Mistress Knight. “They’re marked for transport to the market at Harris’. Take ‘em over there. There’s some other girls going out today waiting for the trucks.”
Andrea and Lisa had heard of the place. Harris’ was one of the largest and most upscale slave emporiums in the country. Its sale could be huge, with hundreds, maybe a thousand or more, girls up for sale at a time. Mistress Knight walked them through the gate to the loading/unloading area.
Andrea glanced around, quickly, lowering her head again before the slavers noticed her brief break from the submissive pose the slaves were expected to maintain. Though it looked very different in the daytime, this was the same place she and her sister had been dropped off all those weeks ago. It seemed a lifetime ago to her. It had been a different girl stumbling out of the back of the truck, newly enslaved, from the one now waiting to be loaded for her final journey to the market place.
Just past the gate, another group of slaves which had finished their training, were waiting for the truck as well. The girls knelt, hands cuffed behind their backs, heads bowed submissively, sweltering in the hot sun, which the handlers stood back, in the shade of one of the outbuildings. At Mistress Knight’s gesture, one of them hurried over to take charge of Andrea and Lisa.
“Good to see you two have finally learned your place!” Jamie said, cheerfully leading the sisters over to join the other slaves. “If you’d been any more stubborn, you’d have missed the sale and that would have made the higher ups very unhappy, and slaves who make management unhappy get sold someplace nasty. Trust me, Harris’ is the best place you could hope to be sent. Nothing but high class slaves for the best clientele. You won’t have to worry about getting sold to a basement brothel or one of the dungeon film studios.”
At her gentle tug of the leash, Andrea and Lisa sank to their knees on the hard, hot concrete, at the end of the line. Along with the other slaves, the sisters sweltered in the heat for the better part of an hour, before the truck finally pulled up the narrow road to the training camp. It looked almost identical to the one which had brought the two here not too long ago.
“About time!” One of the handlers grumbled as the truck came to a halt. The driver just shrugged and muttered something about traffic. A ramp was lowered into place and the back opened up. From inside came frightened whimpers as the handlers climbed inside. A minute later, a line of frightened girls stumbled out of the back as the slavers released them from the truck’s restraints. They were naked, apart from the cuffs trapping their hands behind their backs and the thick gags between their teeth. The way they fought their restraints as they were marched out of the truck immediately told that these were recent captures, fresh slaves to replace the trained slaves now being shipped out.
As they stumbled past, the new girls looked over at the line of kneeling slaves, submissively waiting to take their place on the truck. Quiet whimpers of terror escaped their gagged lips as they saw the fate that awaited them, after the camp had done its work, breaking their will and turning them into obedient slaves. One girl paused a second, her gaze stopping on the two sisters. She was short and curvy, her dark brown hair tied back in braids that had come partially undone sometime during her capture and processing. Her soft round face was dappled with freckles that stood out against her pale skin.
Beside Andrea, Lisa’s eyes also widened briefly in recognition. Someone she knew from her old life, a friend of the girl who no longer existed, from a school she would never attend again. The two shared a look of despair, seeing the other’s fate, for a brief second. Then, one of the handlers brought the flog sharp across the other teen’s backside. She yelped in pain and stumbled onward, towards the camp. Lisa watched her old friend impassively, briefly hoping the other girl would learn to submit before suffering too much.
As the last of the new arrivals were marched through the gate by their handlers, other slavers ordered the outgoing slaves to their feet. In a neat, orderly column, the slaves shuffled to the back of the slave transport and up the ramp. The inside was the same as they remembered: two rows of low, metal benches along either side of the trailer. Spaced close together along the benches were pairs of hard, rubber prongs, designed to fill the slave’s holes as she sat on the bench. A handler inside the trailer grabbed Andrea and positioned her over one set. Obediently, Andrea lowered herself down, spreading her legs slightly as the handler guided her onto the prongs. They slid easily into her, still wet from the last frightened girl who rode in the truck. Lisa was forced down onto the side beside Andrea. They were chained in place by their collars, keeping them from rising until they reached their destination.
When the last of the slaves had been loaded and chained down, the handlers left the truck. The doors slid down, plunging the women into total darkness. Andrea listened to the slavers securing the doors shut, locking them in. The ramp was raised up and secured. A moment later, the truck started to roll forward, beginning its journey to the slave market…
***
Several hours later, the truck came to a final halt. Along with the rest of the slaves, Andrea and Lisa whimpered in relief as they heard the trailer door being unlatched. As before, the long period of tight confinement had left the captives stiff and sore, and though they had learned to accept the constant presence of the plugs inside them in the training camp, the hours spent feeling every bump and dip in the highway through the twin shafts filling them had had a profound effect on the women.
The hatch slid up, letting light into the truck for the first time since they were locked in. Several slavers walked up into the back of the truck and began unchaining the slaves. Andrea and Lisa watched, anxiously waiting their turn to be freed. They noted these men and women were not in the uniform jumpsuits of Boundoggle slaves. They had their own uniform; dark red jackets and pants, with a stylized “H” stitched in gold thread on the front, with a matching cap.
“Down the ramp and straight forward to the door, slaves!” One of the handlers ordered as she went down the row, unchaining the slaves from their benches. With groans of relief, Andrea and Lisa rose to their feet and stumbled down the ramp at the back of the truck, keeping their legs spread slightly apart for the first couple of yards as they recovered from the sudden removal of the thick plugs from inside them.
Coming to the bottom of the ramp, the sisters saw they were in a large loading dock, at the rear of a huge building complex. Directly ahead of them was a plain metal door, held open by a handler as the slaves stumbled off the truck and through it into the building. On either side of them, they could see other trucks, some with Boundoggle’s logo on the side, others bearing the names of the other slaving companies, pulled up, lines of naked, chained girls shuffling out of them and through other doors.
Following the other girls in front of them, Andrea and Lisa passed through their own door. More handlers waited to take charge of the slaves on the other side. Without wasting any time, the sisters were hurried down a long, Spartan hallway, past storerooms. Some seemed to hold the usual, humdrum supplies of any large business. Others were cellblocks filled with rows of small cages, much like the one back at the camp, holding the slaves which was the place’s stock in trade, until it was time to sell them.
They passed through a pair of large double doors, marked with a sign that said: “Sales Prep.” The sisters found themselves in a large shower room, with two long rows of nozzles spaced along the walls on either side of them. A group of naked slaves were washing and cleaning the new arrivals. One of them, a Hispanic girl, young, chipper if a bit plain faced, took the sister’s leashes from the handler and dragged them, gently, but intently, to the closest open shower.
The sisters gasped through their gags as she turned a nozzle, turning on a torrent of icy water onto them. Shutting the water off, the other slave grabbed a bottle of soap and approached Andrea and Lisa. Her hands became very intimate, as she gently massaged every inch of the sister’s naked figures, making sure everything was covered in a fine soapy lather. Then, she turned the water back off, letting the soap rinse off, carrying with it all of the sweat and grime from the training camp and the long truck ride here.
Turning the water off once more, she grabbed a bottle of shaving cream and a razor. She went over their bodies with care, ensuring that the two slaves were smooth and hairless from the neck downward. She turned the water on one last time, to wash off the last of the foam.
When the two had been toweled off, they were taken to the next room. This one was set up like a beauty parlor, with long mirrors on either wall, with short chairs in front and tables set out with a wide array of makeup and beauty products.
The slave leading the sisters took them to two free chairs, side by side. She seated them there and buckled the built-in restraints, keeping the sisters in place while they were made over. The sisters watched in the mirror as they were both transformed. The sisters’ hair, which had grown out in the weeks since their enslavement, was trimmed. Then, she applied makeup with a quick, precise eye. Already a close match in looks, the sisters’ makeover increased the similarity in appearance, until only the height difference proved they weren’t natural twins.
In the next room, the two slaves received their outfits for the show floor; lacy black panties and matching bras, of sheer, see-through material, thigh-high black stockings and three-inch black heels. The lingerie and shoes came from a cardboard box, taken from a stack of identical boxes, with the sister’s slave numbers on it. The clothes had been matched to their exact dimensions, measured during their processing, and fit the two better than any other clothes they’d worn in their lives. They wobbled a bit on the unfamiliar heels as the slave took them to another door and handed them over to a waiting handler.
Down another hallway and through another set of doors. The sisters now found themselves in a much different part of the building. In contrast to the Spartan, white-washed walls behind the scenes, these walls had colorful papering in a neo-classical style. Ornamented golden lamps on the walls provided bright, gentle lighting. Their bare feet padded on soft, silk carpeting. This was one of the fanciest slave emporiums, catering to the wealthiest clientele, who wanted to shop for their slaves in style.
At the moment, the large showroom they entered was empty of customers. A dozen or so handlers were leading the newly prepared slaves to the two rows of raised stands on either side. Up on the wooden platform, Andrea and Lisa were led to a brass pole, rising from the wooden beams. At the top were several rings, to which their chain leads were attached.
On a post near the sisters, an ornate, hardwood frame held a touch-screen display panel. As they watched, the handler turned and punched two numbers into the screen; the same numbers that were stamped on their collar tags. The screen flickered, changing to display a scrolling feed of the sister’s statistics:
Slave Andrea…Age: 21…Ethnicity: Puerto Rican…Hair: Black…Height: 5’7”…Weight: 135 lbs…Fully Trained…Slave Lisa…Age 18…Ethnicity: Puerto Rican…Hair: Black…Height: 5’3”…Weight: 124 lbs…Fully Trained…Opening Bid for Pair: $25K.
The Handler nodded, satisfied. He gave the sisters a command, ordering them into one of the regular display poses. Automatically, the sisters shifted into the position, legs spread as far as their chains allowed, chests thrust forward, faces forward, cast slightly downward. Satisfied, the man nodded and hurried off to bring in the next set of slaves for the auction.
The sisters, meanwhile, slipped into the half-conscious state of trained slaves, not moving, waiting obediently to spring into action the instant a command was given by their masters, whether it was given in the next moment or the next day. Out of the corner of their eyes, the sisters impassively watched as more girls were brought in, filling the stands. Each had a screen of her own, showing her stats and price.
When the last one was in place, a silent signal was given. At the far end of the long room, a pair of large doors were opened to admit a stream of people; men and women, all dressed in evening wear. Their wealth was quite apparent in their expensive clothes and jewelry and their air of superiority as they strolled down the rows of slaves on display, eyeing each girl as if examining a new toy or tool in a shop window. More than a few of the buyers had slaves with them, trailing a few paces behind their owners, their naked bodies as much a display of their masters’ and mistress’ wealth and fine taste as the fancy clothes and jewelry.
At first, the buyers moved down the rows, pausing occasionally to examine one of the slaves for sale. When the bulk of the crowd had reached the end of the room, they doubled back, returning to the items they found most interesting.
Andrea and Lisa drew more of that attention then most. A small crowd gathered around the sisters, eyes intently scanning their naked bodies. From time to time, a buyer would order them to change position, or to turn in place, so they could be examined from all sides. A few times, they would be ordered to step forward and bend over, so the examiner could feel up their breasts through the thin material of their bras, or slid a probing hand beneath the band of their panties. The sisters dutifully obeyed. Above all their other training, they still remembered Lesson Two…
As they were examined, the two girls looked out at the crowd of buyers, examining them as well, trying to gauge the kind of person they would be. They knew their future hinged on whoever happened to purchase them.
Would it be a man? A woman? Would they be a kind Master or a cruel Mistress? Would they be domestic slaves, cooking and cleaning for their owner, in between servicing their other needs, or would they be sold to a high-class club or brothel and spend the rest of their lives servicing and endless procession of guests with their bodies?
There was no way to tell. Everywhere they looked, they saw the same expression on each face, a hungry desire to possess the sisters. Even so, Andrea and Lisa found themselves trying to please those buyers they thought looked kinder as best they could, smiling around the rubber plugs of their gags, or thrusting their scantily clad bodies out, as alluringly as possible when they passed by, hoping they would stop and look.
From time to time, one of the buyers would pause and pull out a small, plastic badge. They would hold it up to the screen beside the slaves. It would beep to signify it had recorded the latest bid. It would also reset the screen’s timer. When the doors had opened, each screen had started displaying, at the bottom below the current bid, a five-minute countdown. With each new bid, the timer would reset.
If there were no more bids within the countdown, the timer would beep and flash, warning any last minute bidders to make a decision fast; then the screen would go black, save a single word in red letters: “Sold”. Before long, a handler would come to collect the newly sold slave and deliver her to her new owner.
After the first few passes around the auction hall, most of the buyers had identified one or two girls they wanted, and thought they could reasonably bid for. They circled the room, from girl to girl, checking to see if their latest bid had been topped and either raising it again or writing that slave off if it was too high for them. About half an hour into the silent auction, roughly half of the slaves, the lower quality ones, reached the end of their timers. They hung their heads low as they were led away to their fates. The bidders concentrated their procession around the remaining slaves.
Andrea and Lisa received a lot of attention from the bidders. For the first hour of the auction, their timer never dropped below four minutes, before another buyer would come by and raise it. Sometimes, two or three or four bidders would congregate, rapidly bidding each other up and up, until one had to hurry off to bid on one of their other selected slaves. The price for the sisters quickly rose to six figures. That gave the two some relief from the anxiety of their sale. As expensive slaves, they were unlikely to be mistreated by whoever ultimately bought them…hopefully.
Slowly, over the next few hours, the crowds slowly diminished. The stands emptied out as the sold slaves were taken away, one by one. The buyers left as well, to collect their new purchases, or to head home empty-handed, when the bids grew too high for them to beat. Finally, Andrea and Lisa’s screen began to flash and beep. No one hurried over to up the bid, which had reached $116,000. As it went black, slowly flashing the word “Sold” the sisters briefly broke from the inspection pose to glance at each other, their expressions clouded by anxious thoughts now that someone owned them.
Not long afterward a handler hurried over to them. She unclipped their leashes from the post and tugged gently on them. The sisters followed the free-woman down off the viewing stand. More than a few buyers watched, enviously, as the two passed, wishing they had been the ones to win the bid for the sisters. They passed through a door and a long hallway, as ornate and fancy as the room they had left. At the far end a man was waiting. In his hands was one of the bidder’s badges. A light on it flashed and it buzzed, letting the man know he had won his bid. He looked up the hallway, a wide grin crossing his face as he saw the two young women he now owned.
The two sisters also had a chance to get a first look at their new master. He stood a little taller then the two, perhaps a hair over 6 feet tall. He was in his late thirties or possibly early forties. He had dark hair, cut short, clean shaven. A pair of glasses ringed his blue-grey eyes. He had on a grey suit, of fine quality.
“Your payment has been processed, sir.” The Handler told the man, stopping just in front of him. “It will take a little while to process the paperwork, but you should be receiving the documentation certifying these two now belong to you.” She handed the man the ends of the sister’s leashes as well as a small ring with the keys to their restraints. “Enjoy! And please remember Harris’ for all your slave-related needs.”
As she turned and hurried back up the hallway, the man tugged gently on the chain, drawing the sisters in front of him for a closer inspection. Holding the chain firmly in one hand, the man’s free hand slipped forward, caressing Andrea’s breasts through the sheer, all but see-through fabric covering them. “I hope you two will be worth the money I paid for you.” Andrea gave a quiet gasp as his hand slipped underneath the band of her panties to feel her sex. Without being conscious of it, she started to slowly rock her hips, rubbing herself against her master’s hand. He grinned. “Yes, you two were a good purchase…” He withdrew his hand from Andrea, who gave a muffle whimper of disappointment, so he could feel up Lisa, who reacted to his touch the same as her sister.
Satisfied, the man turned and started walking. The sisters fell into line behind their owner, shuffling after him as quickly as the ankle fetters would allow. “To you, I am Master Henry, or just Master. I expect obedience from my slaves, but so long as you are good slaves, you don’t have to be afraid. I’m not usually cruel to my pets.”
The three reached the end of the hallway and passed through a large, fancy lobby. More handlers in the red uniform assisted masters and mistresses in signing up for the auctions later in the day, while a number of slaves moved about, offering refreshments or other services for the customers. Eyes followed the sisters as they shuffled past the crowd, more than a few expressing regret they missed those slaves or hopes there were other items just as good for offer at the next auction. Then, they passed through the doors into the main concourse.
Andrea and Lisa stopped and stared, until the taut chains at their necks jerked the girls forward after their master once more. In their old lives, as free girls, they had heard of Harris’, though they had never come here, and never in their wildest dreams imagined they would wind up here, not as customers, but as merchandise to be purchased.
Harris’ was one of the largest slave emporiums in the country. Far more than a single showroom or auction house, it was a large mall, all dedicated to the selling of slaves and everything needed for the new Master or Mistress to get the most out of their new purchases.
The shop they had just come out of was one of the larger, and fancier slave emporiums in the complex, but as they shuffled after their owner, they passed a number of other shops selling slaves, from a discount, used-slaves shop, it’s long window packed with glum girls curled up in cramped cages, to a high end shop specializing in professionally-trained slaves for all needs, from secretaries and cordon bleu chefs, to specially trained ponygirls and petgirls.
Beyond the slaves, there were plenty of stores selling items and accessories for slave owners. There were shops for every need and every price range, from the cheap bulk buy stores, selling basic metal or plastic cuffs next to bags of slave chow all the way up boutiques selling designer jewelry collars and restraints for slaves inlaid with gold and silver filigree and studded with gemstones.
Between them were the odd specialty stores. The three passed a large store advertising “Custom Piercings…Tattoos…Branding.” A master was leading a newly purchased slave into the shop, tugging sharply on the leash against her hesitation. The girl had a worried look on her face, not that her opinion mattered much in this regard. Silently, the two sisters shared a sigh of relief as their master passed by the shop entrance without a second glance.
Eventually, they came to a set of elevators. When they got in one, Master Henry pushed a button for a floor below the main building. They rose the elevator down, coming out in a plain, but well lit, concrete parking garage. “This way, slaves.” He said, tugging on the chain as he got out of the elevator. The man led his slaves across the level to a dark SUV. As he opened the back hatch, they saw the back of the vehicle had been retrofitted with several small cages, a common modification for slave owners who wanted to take their slaves traveling with them.
Unlocking the cage doors, Master Henry lifted the sisters up into the openings, closing and locking them in. He closed the trunk. A moment later, they heard him get into the driver’s seat and start the car. It pulled out of the space and slowly drove out of the parking garage…