Accidentally On-Purpose Part 4.3
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Part four 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, power exchange dynamics, threats of physical harm including electric shock, non-consensual sexual submission, lesbian sex, 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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"...they went out of business, so now it's up to us to liquidate the inventory" Michelle said. "No Primes, apparently, so it won't affect my workload directly, but the wholesale side is slammed, which means the auctions are all theirs for the next few days, maybe all week."
"What kind of business was it?" Billy asked.
Having lunch with Billy Ferguson, the acting head of security for HCI, was becoming a regular thing for Michelle. They ate together several times a week and talked about a thousand different things.
"One of those cleaning services where they'll bring slaves to your house and you get to watch them clean the place while naked, and have sex with them for an extra fee. I assume there was just too much competition for a new company to make it, especially one without Primes."
"Wow," Billy said, stirring his protein shake with a metal straw. "So they just declared bankruptcy, loaded all the women into some trucks, and drove them here?"
"The court ordered them to do it," Michelle said, unaware that she was stirring her salad with her fork. "The interesting thing is that the owners of the business are female, so there's a real chance that they may be sold into indenture to pay off their creditors."
Things had been going pretty well the past few weeks. She and Billy had been spending time together, first lunches then the occasional workout at the gym, and last Friday he had asked her to dinner. She almost suggested
Opal's
, so she could show off her big, bald, powerlifter maybe-boyfriend to Jason Le and his court of admirers, but decided against it; when she told Lena, she said she was proud of her.
"I hope they treated their former staff well," Billy said. "Otherwise they might have a very, er, ah,
unpleasant
time of it. Man, I wouldn't want to be a former owner reduced to slavery, and processed in the same place as my former property." He let out a low whistle.
"For a company that was less than two years old, they sure had a lot of slaves," Michelle said. "So they probably had some investors, which means they can ask the court for ownership of the former owners as
invols
in lieu of repayment."
"That seems kinda messed up," Billy said.
Michelle shrugged. "The law is the law, what are you going to do?" She glanced at the clock in the cafeteria. "Cripes, I gotta get back so Sandy can go to lunch" she said, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin. "Ms. Steiner is making us take shifts so that someone is always available to evaluate a possible high-end Choice or even a Prime if the wholesale crew comes across one in the lots. Oh, before I forget, any word on Mrs. Fisher?"
"Her husband called this morning, looks like she's going to be out for a while," Billy said with a frown. Mrs. Fisher was the retired Houston PD detective who had become HCI's local head of security. Billy was filling in for her while she went through surgery for stomach cancer. It didn't look good.
Michelle stood, gathering her dishes onto her tray, and shook her head. "I'm sorry, that sucks."
"Yeah, it does," Billy agreed, but then brightened. "See you tonight?"
"A study buddy never leaves a buddy behind," Michelle said as she walked toward the dish return, and Billy chuckled.
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"How does it look?" Michelle asked Sandy as she surveyed the wholesaler's side of the receiving area. They were trying to run the women through a sort of assembly line, but there were so many of them that small groups of slaves were sitting on the concrete floor, just waiting; Michelle had never seen so many naked women in one place before.
"All quiet here. They haven't brought anything over, and from what I've seen I don't expect them to either." Sandy said.
"Well, go to lunch, I got this," Michelle said. Sandy nodded and left.
Michelle appreciated the quiet, it gave her a chance to study on the clock. She and Billy were taking the HCI-sponsored prep class for the Federal Basic Slave Handling license, sometimes called the "Level One Exam." The company was willing to pay the licensing exam fee for anyone who completed the class, so Michelle figured
why not?
But at the moment she was having a hard time getting started, because she was nervous about making a decision: this week was the ideal week to initiate
Operation Federico
. Michelle sighed unconsciously. The code name had been Lena's idea, after her late chinchilla Federico. Before Michelle could object, Sandy and Kiara had agreed to it, thinking it was adorable. Why did everything Lena touch become tinged with the absurd?
But otherwise the planning meeting at Lena's house had been a success, if a little weird: Lena charmed Sandy and Kiara, Sandy and Kiara thought Lena and her zoo were wonderful, and everyone agreed to their roles when it came to inserting Michelle into the overnight holding pens and recovering her. Kiara would handle the computer records, Sandy would do the physical escort, both would handle overwatch via the surveillance system, and Lena would be the safety in case something went wrong and Michelle needed to be bailed out by someone with a great deal of money.
Michelle sighed again, took out her phone and opened up the class textbook. She picked back up in the chapter entitled "Federal Laws Pertaining to Servitude":
"The
Service Reform Act
, passed by Congress under the Democratic Republican Party and signed into law by President Wells (DR) created the US Department of Involuntary Service (USDIS) which is..."
Michelle closed the reader app and opened her text app.
Operation Federico is go
she typed, and hit
send
.
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Friday night, and while others were out having fun or resting up for the weekend, Michelle and her friends were at HCI preparing to disguise her as a slave.
Sitting in one of the A-Ops rooms, Michelle had already stripped down to her underwear (unremarkable panties and a sports bra) while Sandy prepared the restraints. Kiara sat in front of a console containing several video displays, and Lena attended via video call on Michelle's phone, propped up next to Kiara.
"Hotel Two," Kiara said, pointing at a monitor, "that's the one. Unoccupied, and once you're in Sandy will get 9126 and put her in there with you."
"Yes," Michelle said, "Only one at a time will give me a chance to interview her, without overwhelming me with numbers — not all of us are that brave." Sandy looked up and blushed.
"Do you remember your cover story?" Lena asked over the phone.
"And the trouble signal?" Kiara added.
"Yes and yes," Michelle said. "Let's do this before I lose my nerve."
Sandy stood up and moved in front of Michelle, holding up the restraints; "Time to strip," she said.
Is she smirking?
Michelle wondered.
Michelle took off her bra and placed it on the seat next to her, and saw that her small nipples were already stiffening; then she lifted her legs and skinned off her panties, placing them with her bra. She had shaved off her pubic hair last night in anticipation, leaving her vagina completely smooth; her eye caught Kiara's as she snuck a look before quickly turning back to the monitors.
"
Collar
," Sandy ordered, and Michelle automatically slid off the chair and onto her knees, one hand on her thigh and the other holding her hair up off of her neck. Sandy unsuccessfully suppressed another smile and said "Nicely done," then closed the metal collar around Michelle's neck with a click that gave Michelle a tiny thrill.
"I learned from the best," Michelle murmured with a slight smirk of her own, and Sandy chuckled.
"
Up and ready
," Sandy continued; Michelle quickly stood, turned around, and clasped her hands behind her back where Sandy expertly handcuffed them.
"
Turn
," Sandy finished, and when Michelle had turned to face her she clipped a leash onto Michelle's collar.
"Good luck boo-boo!" Lena said from the phone.
Michelle felt strange, standing "slave naked" in front of her friends. She wondered how they felt about it; would it change how they viewed her, how they acted toward her, how they thought about her? For Michelle, the collar was just a disguise so she could have an adventure, but for lots of women it was all too real - and permanent.
The only one she could guess with any certainty was Lena, who probably viewed it much like she did: as something akin to a costume at a fancy dress party (but much more revealing) and didn't change who Michelle was to her. Sandy was a cipher, very good at hiding her thoughts and feelings. Kiara? She'd probably prefer that Sandy take Michelle to her family's farmhouse for the weekend so she could practice her whip handling on Michelle's virgin, unmarked body.
"One last thing," Sandy said, and released Michelle's hair from its ponytail; her fine, dark hair spilled down around her shoulders. With that, Sandy tugged once on Michelle's leash, and led her out into the corridor.
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Michelle had always felt uneasy in the "cage maze," the HCI nickname for the twisting jumble of pens and cages where the individual (non-wholesale) stock was kept. From what Sandy said, the maze had originally been only a dozen cages arranged in a neat grid pattern, but as HCI had expanded and their volume increased, more cages of different shapes and sizes were added haphazardly: some crowded in next to others, still others placed in the middle of (now blocked) walkways, a few others actually crammed on top of existing pens, blocking out lighting and video cameras, until the place resembled a cross between a dog pound and a rabbit warren.
Her uneasiness certainly stemmed from her past encounter with Ed, but there was more to it than just that: the sense that she could get lost, that she was outnumbered, and very vulnerable even with a goad, contributed. Now that she was naked — not even wearing shoes so she could run! — and handcuffed and wearing a slave collar, that feeling of vulnerability was magnified a thousandfold, and so was her uneasiness.
It didn't help that the nighttime lighting protocol was in effect so that the inventory could sleep, making the maze fairly dark except for dim lights on the pathways and single lights over each door.
"You look really hot, by the way," Sandy said over her shoulder. "You should try going slave naked more often."
"Are you trying to make me laugh? Because it's not working," Michelle hissed.
"Just making an observation, babe," Sandy chuckled.
"So do you think I'd bring a good price?" Michele asked, jokingly, trying to keep things light.
"I don't know. I'd have to get a better look at you."
