Accidentally on-Purpose

Part three of a multi-part story about a young woman working as an intern at a slave market. It is set in the same world, city, and place as my previous series

Three Sisters

so it may be useful to read that first.

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Note that this story contains bondage, slavery, physical harm including whipping and electric shock, non-consensual sexual submission, lesbian sex, racial epithets, bodily fluids, and a character's struggle to come to terms with it all. All characters are at least 18 years of age.

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Michelle sat in the training room, idly scrolling through her phone. It was Wednesday morning, and she was waiting to begin the HCI-sponsored certification class for slave prods, also known as goads. Only one other person was in the room waiting with her, a young white man whom she didn't recognize, wearing a coverall uniform that marked him as part of Big Ed's warehouse crew; like her, he was scrolling through his phone, chuckling from time to time.

The door at the rear of the room opened, and Michelle craned her neck around to see who it was.

"Sandy!" she shouted, and gave a little wave, then stopped because she got self-conscious: there were only two people in the room, Sandy could probably have picked her out of the "crowd."

Sandy smiled and sat down beside her, then leaned over and gave the surprised Michelle a hug; after a brief hesitation Michelle hugged her back.

"Welcome back!" Michelle said. "I missed you. How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks" Sandy said, still smiling. Michelle noticed she was sitting a bit stiffly, like she didn't want to touch her back to the chair. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know, ready to learn how to roast people with electricity" Michelle replied. "Are you in this class too?"

"Yes, I never got around to getting certified" Sandy replied. "When Ms. Steiner found out, she insisted that I get certified with you and that we both start carrying prods." Sandy shrugged. "Never needed one before, but if she insists..." She spread out her hands in the universal "What are you gonna do?" gesture.

Michelle assumed it had something to do with her encounter with Ed, but neither of them wanted to discuss it openly with a guy from Ed's crew listening in.

The front door to the room opened and a beefy young white guy, head shaved and wearing a dark suit, entered. Michelle recognized him because she had looked him up on the company facebook before class: William Ferguson, assistant head of security for HCI Houston, a tough-looking Scots-Irish bruiser with a pleasant, open face. Among other things, he was an accredited Krav-Maga instructor — she wanted to ask him about that.

He's a good-looking guy, Michelle thought; I never thought I'd find someone built like a power lifter attractive, yet here we are. I think I'll put

him

on the list...

"Good morning everyone" he said in some sort of New England accent (

Massachusetts?

Michelle speculated) "My name is Ferguson, and I'm here to give you the State of Texas-mandated basic training on how to handle one of these" — he held up a small silver-colored metal cylinder, then flicked it expertly into a rod just under two feet long — "a Level One rated non-lethal electric prod, approved for use on humans." Without appearing to touch anything, he caused an arc of electricity to appear on the tip of the device.

Ferguson retracted the prod, placed it on the table in front of him and asked "Before we begin, does anyone have a history of heart problems or nervous system disorders?" He pronounced the last word "diz-OAR-dahz."

"Wanna go to the cafeteria at lunch?" Michelle whispered to Sandy.

"Of course!" Sandy whispered back.

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"Sure, I think that everyone who works hands-on should get at least some exposure to what's called physical confidence training, if not actual combat training" Mr. Ferguson said. "Is something like that what you had in mind?"

They were on break, halfway through the class, and Michelle was talking to Mr. Ferguson; Sandy had gone to the bathroom, so she figured she'd go ask him now about additional training.

"Yes, exactly" she said. "Even with the prod, I feel like having some ability to handle myself would be useful; sometimes the stock I take in is much bigger than I am. Do you have any recommendations, Mr. Ferguson?"

"Sure, sure," he said. "I like Krav Maga because it's effective, it has a number of useful control techniques, and is easy to learn quickly. And please, call me Billy. I'm not old enough to be a

mister

anything." He grinned, and Michelle grinned back. He was an affable guy, and it was fun talking to him.

"Ideally, the goal is to avoid using force at all" Billy said. "But that's a psychological skill, one that we don't teach here formally — most people pick it up on the job, if they pick it up at all. Too many don't."

"Now

that

sounds interesting, and like something I should learn" she said. "How would I go about that?"

"Well, would you like to meet for lunch and talk about it then?" he asked.

"Yes, that would be great!" Michelle enthused. "Thanks!"

"No problem. Lemme look at my schedule and I'll ping your calendar. It'll be fun" he said, grinning some more. He had cute little crinkles in the corners of his eyes when he smiled, which was a lot.

Definitely on the list

she thought.

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Rather than go to the cafeteria, Michelle suggested they try one of the specialty food trucks that sometimes visited HCI around noon. Sandy agreed, so they had tacos instead of sandwiches and sat outside in the shade of some oak trees while they ate.

"So," Sandy said, "You do anything fun this weekend?"

"Yes," Michelle answered. "I went to the public punishment on Saturday morning."

"Oh yeah? How was it?" Sandy said after wiping taco sauce off of her mouth.

"It was interesting," Michelle said. "I saw Cal there."

Sandy was quiet just a moment too long. "Oh?" She finally replied.

Michelle dusted off her hands and started using a cleaning wipe on them. "He wasn't alone."

Sandy remained silent, a few bites of taco sitting in her paper napkin untouched.

Michelle set her cardboard tray aside and turned to Sandy. "I'm no good at subtlety, so I'm just going to come out and tell you: I know you were the first punishment subject. I saw you coming out of the dispensary with Cal."

Sandy set down her food, but didn't look at Michelle.

"I'm not going to tell anyone. I didn't even tell my best friend." Michelle said in the gentlest, most compassionate tone she could muster. "But I have to know: why?"

Sandy looked up at the treeline across the HCI parking lot and sighed. "I knew someone was going to catch on sooner or later, but I could never come up with a really satisfactory explanation, or at least one that didn't sound completely crazy."

"I don't think you're crazy, and there's nothing you can tell me that will change my mind," Michelle said.

Sandy took a deep breath. "The truth is that it started off as a dare. I got to be good friends with Kiara when we worked together, like you and I do now. We used to tease the slaves and flirt with some of the warehouse guys, but nothing big. Then one evening as I was shutting down, I was back in the cage maze and saw some of the Prime slaves having sex with each other. They had just come back from training school, and they must have been insanely horny. I stood there and watched all those beautiful women having sex in twos and threes, and I was so turned on it was killing me. I wanted to be touched, and,

wanted

like that; to be

hungered for

, really."

Sandy leaned back against the tree trunk, then immediately leaned forward again with a wince. "I went back to the desk and told Kiara what I saw. She could tell I was turned on, so she dared me to go back there and go into the cage. So I went back and stood there, watching, not sure what to do next. One of the slaves looked up at me and smiled and said "Join us, mistress"; I still don't know what possessed me to do it, or what gave me the courage, but I stripped off my clothes and went inside the cage. The others were wary of me at first, but the slave who invited me in came up to me and gave me a long, hard kiss. After that, they let me join them and I had some of the most amazing sex of my life — like I said, they had just come from weeks of training so they were eager to try out everything they knew. I must have been in there for

hours

. We weren't slaves and free women, we were just human beings giving each other pleasure. I don't even know how many times I came. It was incredible. Eventually I heard some of the night staff starting their rounds, so I got out before I got caught."

"If they'd caught you, naked in a slave cage, would they have tried to enslave you?" Michelle asked quietly.

Sandy nodded. "Probably. That's why it was so stupid of me, acting on impulse like that." She sighed again. "I got away with it, through dumb luck, really. But it was the most intense experience of my life, and I had to do it again, but I knew I had to have some protection, a fail-safe of some kind. So a couple of days later I was talking to Kiara about what happened. I told her that I wanted to do it again; she confessed that she had watched me on the security camera, and she wanted to do

that

again, so she volunteered to be my safety."

"The next time we had an overnight group like the first ones, I stripped and put on a slave collar and handcuffs, and had Kiara lead me to the cage and put me inside like I was just another slave — she really enjoyed that. After she took off the cuffs, she even slapped me on the ass as I went in." Sandy smiled at the memory. "It was just as good as the first time. After a few hours when things wound down, Kiara came back and got me — she'd been watching on the security monitors like before — she led me back to the locker room. Once we were inside she kissed me. Next thing I know, I'm going down on her until she comes. I have no wish to be a slave, but being naked and collared and handcuffed and kneeling in front of a woman holding your leash while she tells you

eat my pussy good, white girl

— it was insanely hot."

Michelle sat quietly, not wanting to interrupt, so she laid a hand on Sandy's knee.

"It was really fun at first, like getting away with something, which in a way we were. But one night I messed up. I got put into a cage without checking out all of the inhabitants beforehand, and one of them was not a returned trainee but a new, untrained intake put in the wrong place. When the other slaves and I started having sex she freaked out, started yelling and screaming like someone was trying to kill her. The night staff got to us before Kiara did."

Sandy had a strange look on her face, like she was far away in her mind. "Fortunately they didn't recognize me, so I just kept my mouth shut. The night staff didn't know what had happened and they didn't care, they just wanted us to be quiet, and were angry that we disturbed them: they took us out of the cage one by one, cuffed us spread-eagle facing against the chain-link of the cage wall so we could see each other. I was stretched out, terrified, completely exposed, unable to protect myself, and unable to do anything to stop them. Then they gave us each a dozen stripes with a whip, on our naked backs. It was shocking, how much it hurt. Some of the women screamed, but I didn't."

"When they finished the whippings they cuffed and gagged us, and separated us out into small transit cages where we barely had room to sit up. Once they left Kiara came and got me and took me back to the locker room like usual. She was really upset; she was apologizing and putting stuff on my back and totally freaking out. But the strange thing was: I was really, really turned on, like

insanely

turned on. I actually

enjoyed

the pain and humiliation. I liked facing the other slaves while I got my ass whipped. I liked the danger of having one of the staff recognize me, and maybe making my stay permanent, or blackmailing me somehow. So I stopped her doing what she was doing and we fucked until sunrise."

"But I wanted it again," Sandy continued. "The first time was a freak accident, but it was all I could think about. When the company started doing public punishments, I got Kiara to register me under a fake name as a punishment slave and we asked Cal to pose as my owner — which got me out of a bad spot once when the punisher wanted to shave my head bald and Cal stepped in. But I've been whipped, flogged, caned, shocked, you name it, all while naked and tied up in front of hundreds of people, some of whom knew me."

"And I've loved

every single one

. Working through the pain, dealing with the humiliation, the feeling that I chose this experience, knowing that I have this secret, refusing to break down — it makes me feel alive in a way nothing else does, not all the races and competitions I've ever been in combined. I'm still not quite sure why it does me the way it does, or why I love it, I just know that I do." Sandy finally looked over at Michelle. "I'm sorry I lied to you."

Michelle was silent for another moment, making sure Sandy was done. "You don't have anything to apologize for, certainly not to me, and I still don't think you're crazy: I think what you told me is the most amazing and beautiful thing I've ever heard. Thank you for trusting me." She scooted closer to Sandy and wrapped her arms around her, and Sandy immediately returned the hug fiercely.

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Michelle and Sandy went back to work, a little quieter than normal but without any detectable emotional distance between them. They got along as they always had, just more subdued: Sandy because of her confession, and Michelle because her brain was in overdrive.

As they prepared for the next round of intakes, Michelle saw Billy Ferguson enter and walk over to Ms. Steiner. They talked for a few minutes, and at one point Billy gestured directly at Michelle, before the two of them made their way over to the intake station.

"Miss Preston, Miss Tran, please pause your duties and pay attention to Assistant Director Ferguson" Ms. Steiner said in her usual informal way.

Billy smiled and handed each of the young women a large envelope and a small cardboard box with the word

PROD

stamped on it. "Congratulations, you are now each State of Texas Certified Level One Non-Lethal Prod operators. You both did very well on the written exam — Miss Tran here aced it, and Miss Preston came close — and I wanted to tell you both that I'm very proud of your effort and attention." His smile got a little broader, and he shook each of their hands. "If you ever have any questions or concerns or need anything, please feel free to come find me any time." Billy smiled once more at Ms. Steiner, gave a little wave (mostly directed at Michelle) and departed.

Ms. Steiner, whose facial expression had not changed the entire time, also congratulated Michelle and Sandy — "From this point forward you are to carry your prods with you at all times when inside HCI" — then turned to Intake business: "Miss Tran, in recognition of your excellent work these past weeks I am promoting you to junior clerk. You will assume control of the disused Number Two station and perform the duties of a primary intake technician, alongside Miss Preston at the Number One station. Are there any questions?"

A startled Michelle just managed to stop herself raising a hand, then asked: "Ma'am? I'm an intern, not an employee, isn't there —"

"I am aware of your status, Miss Tran" Ms. Steiner replied, " You may not be aware that I am the one who ultimately approved your internship. I am giving you this promotion in order to broaden your experience here at HCI." She looked at Sandy. "Do you have any objections, Miss Preston?"

"No ma'am," Sandy replied. "Congrats" she said to Michelle, smiling.

"Yes,

congrats

indeed" Ms. Steiner said. "Ladies, that is all. Please return to your duties."

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"It was actually really easy. The warehouse guy in the class with us was sweating it, but Sandy and I passed it without a second thought. And now I have a certificate!" Michelle held up the piece of paper to her phone's camera for Lena to see, then started laughing. "I'm legal!"

"As seriously as they took all that, I'm surprised they didn't give you a badge too" Lena said, chuckling. "Did they at least give you a goad, or do you have to buy your own?"

"Nope, they gave me one. Check this out." Michelle dug around in her purse and pulled out the small silver cylinder. She gave a flick of her wrist and it extended out toward the screen, the tip emitting a menacing blue arc as she pressed the trigger button.

"Ooo," Lena said, appreciatively. "Very nice! Have you had to use it yet?"

"No, but now that I'm running a station I may have to. Actually," Michelle corrected, "probably

will

have to."

"Can I try it next time you come over?" Lena asked.

"Sure, anytime, my bloodthirsty boo-boo" Michelle replied, waving it around like a magic wand before snapping it shut. "I did want to ask you about something, though."

Lena raised an eyebrow. "Suddenly so serious? What's up, bee-bee?"

Michelle let out a big breath and started: "You know how we've been talking about what I've been experiencing at work. Well, I came up with an idea and I would like your opinion on it."

"Of course, my dearest" Lena replied, "I am all ears."

"I've been thinking about the paper I have to write once the internship ends, and what it's going to be about — you know, it's focus. At first I was going to do it strictly from a 'what's it like working in a slave market' point of view, but now I'm going to change it to a research project: a comparison between being on staff and being in inventory. The whole thing, up to being sold."

"I see" Lena said. "And what do you have in mind?"

"Well," Michelle said, "First, I want to interview some experienced handlers, which should be no problem, at the very least I can get Sandy and Kiara to do that. Second, I'll need to interview some women being taken in to inventory, preferably all of the same grade so I can get a good basis for comparison. Then at some point I would need to follow the entire process from beginning to end, first as a handler, then from the point of view of a slave."

"From the point of view of a slave?" Lena asked. "What would that tell you?"

"That's what I need to find out. At the very least if there are differences between the answers they give in formal interviews and the ones they give informally. And the best way I can think of is... to actually become a slave."

"WHAT?!

Michelle Hien Thanh Tran

, you cannot be serious" Lena said.

"I've thought it through pretty carefully, and with help I think it can be done. If I disguise myself as a slave, come in at the end of the shift, and get placed into an overnight cage, I'll have a chance to interview some slaves as an equal. Then at the right time, I would have someone come get me before the workday begins, and no one would be the wiser. If I can pull this off, I think I could really make a name for myself."

"My darling, this idea seems terribly impractical and dangerous" Lena said.

"Believe it or not, it's been done before, and I know the people who did it" Michelle said. "I think the danger is minimal, especially if I have several safeties."

"How would you like being naked and collared in a cage with slave women? Wouldn't that be humiliating?" Lena asked.

"Well, it would be tough, but I'm getting used to being around slaves and I'd be able to tell myself it's for a higher goal so... yes, I think I could handle it."