It took me seconds to comply with his suggestion. I pushed back the one I'd just finished examining and gestured the next one to approach. "Turn and bend over" I freed my penis which sprang up rigid and without ceremony, plunged it between her legs and into her vagina, She pushed back against me as I grabbed her hips and started thrusting. Almost at once, I came, pouring my sperm into her.
Pulling out I said "turn around and clean me." I stood erect as she knelt in front of me and took my penis into her mouth. She licked and sucked me clean, then withdrew her mouth. "Stand up" I said, putting my penis away and zipping up.
I then started my examination of the girl. Obviously when I put my fingers into her vulva, I got covered by my sperm, so she had to suck my fingers clean. The next one was small and dark haired, I checked her more cursorily as even my sexual interest was getting sated, rather like being locked in a sweet shop; after so long you can't eat another sweet. In this case, after playing with so many available female bodies, I'd rather lost interest, however when I came to the last one, my interest and my penis perked up. She was rather tall with long brown hair. Her breasts were full, rounded and just enough to fill my hands with a small waist and a delightfully pert rear. She was so good that I didn't bother to do more than a quick look because I'd already decided that she was mine. I stood back from her, indicating that she could rejoin the others.
I turned to the stock clerk and asked "do they have to wear high-heels?"
"No sir, not of you don't want them to, however the collar is compulsory."
"I understand that, of course it is. I'll take number six but bare-foot please."
"Of course. Have you completed your examination?" I nodded "Then if you'll sign the docket for her, you can take her away. I assume Mr Jones has told you about collecting, returning them and general handling?"
"Yes, I understand about not leaving her unattended." I said as I signed.
"In that case, here's a lock and chain in case you need to lock it up. Any complaints, please tell us, we'll do our best to sort them out. Enjoy." She turned and ushered the others away. I beckoned my choice to follow me as we returned to my office.
My new job included processing new deliveries. I had to inspect them, collect details and record it in our database, ready for the stock room to offer them to the respective buyers. Mr Jones was going to show me what to do on the first couple of shipments. He had already explained the procedures to be followed.
As it happened, the next day we got a message saying twelve, mostly from Bulgaria, would be arriving by container lorry at approximately 10 am. As soon as they arrive, Mr Jones would call me.
In preparation, I had equipped my PA, who I called 'Sexpot', with pen and pad and she assured me that she spoke Bulgarian as well as several eastern European languages if necessary. I called her 'Sexpot' because of my warped sense of humour. First she was very sexy anyway but her capture number was 753-yellow, which meant she was Polish. 7 + 5 + 3 = 15 and 1 + 5 = 6. 6 is spelt 'six', so I mangled it into 'Sexpot' because my humour is sometimes very childish. As she was a slave, having a name was privilege enough, even one like 'Sexpot' and to me, for the present, she was all mine for sex.
As soon as I arrived in the morning, I collected Sexpot from the store and told her to make me a tea and get two rounds of wholemeal toast from the canteen. I specified how I wanted my tea. It is, in fact, one of several things that I was particular about. I wanted black tea, no sugar and it had to be weak enough for me to just see the bottom of the cup.
We has spent most of my first day getting it right. By the time she had produced a cup to my standards, she had earned several disciplinary strokes and I had the pleasure of admiring the result when I next collected her. I suppose it was only to be expected, even English people have difficulty making the perfect cup of tea, so how could I expect a Pole to get it right first time? The simple answer which my uncle had produced for me during lunch was: she's a slave, slaves are expected to be perfect every time, first time. If not, they get punished. That's life, at least in this organisation. I was only a beginner as a slave master, so I bowed to an expert.
Any way, I was just finishing my tea and feeding the last of my toast to Sexpot, who was kneeling gracefully at my feet when the phone rang. It was Mr Jones. The lorry had arrived, could I meet him down at number three loading bay? I agreed, told Sexpot to 'heel',and bring a notebook and pencil before making my way to the loading bay. I walked up to Mr Jones, who was watching the lorry backing up to the loading dock.
While we waited, he pointed out the 'crush pen'. This was two runs of wire mesh, about six foot tall and about two foot apart very similar to the chutes used for sheep dipping or TB testing on cattle. This ran across the dock with an opening facing the outside. The other opening which was about twenty feet away led further into the bay, where the holding pens were sited. There were seven pens, one for each type of slave: brothel, G bay, auction, virgin and pony. The other two would be used for problem or injured girls who would be held until a senior manager decided their fate. Of course we could also use one for any 'taken to order' but as far as we were aware, there were none in this consignment.
The 'crush pen' was used to hold the slaves after unloading while each individual slave was washed down, graded and logged. Because the sides of the pen were narrow, we could stop the group at any point by sliding poles across the mesh walls so that they could neither go forward or backwards and one at a time could then be 'popped' out of the pen. Between this pen and the others was a 'station' which had chains which could hold the slave if required while she was examined and measured before moving her into the appropriate pen. Once finished the next one was brought forward. It was simple but effective. Just in case of trouble, there were two of the qualified stockmen complete with cattle prod and riding crop. The cattle prods were de-tuned a little, I believed but still a very effective deterrent to trouble-makers. The usual practice was to touch one of the early arrivals with the prod for any excuse. The reaction was more than enough to use them as a threat for the rest of the consignment.
Finally, the lorry was in position and the rear doors were opened. No body moved for a few minutes, to allow the stench to lessen, they had been locked in the container for more than two days. Obviously no toilet facilities were provided except for a thick layer of straw on the floor of the container, it couldn't cope with the output from twelve frightened females.
One of the stockmen then went in, to reappear, half dragging a dark-haired girl out of the back. She was sobbing and I noticed that her arms were bound behind her back. Naturally she was naked. As he pushed her into the crush pen I could see the red tag in her ear lobe marking the capture as Bulgarian. Once she entered the pen, the other stockman went to get another one. This was repeated for the remainder of the twelve. The third one tried to kick her handler who retaliated by using the prod on her breast. She screamed and collapsed on the floor. Both stockmen picked her up and threw her into the pen. As more girls entered the pen, the earlier ones had to move towards the inner exit which was, of course, temporarily blocked with two short bars. Once all the girls were unloaded, the other end was blocked to prevent any attempt at escape, the shutters were dropped and the lorry drove off.
Now our job started. Mr Jones and I approached the inner end of the crush pen and positioned ourselves by the chains which were ready. I ordered Sexpot to tell the wailing slaves to shut up, and move towards the back of the pen. The two stockmen then took a hose and washed them all down, removing the filth accumulated during their journey. The men enjoyed doing this, especially the squeals and screams as the powerful jet pounded at their naked and unprotected bodies. We let them drip for a few minutes before continuing. A stockman, at a nod from Mr Jones, withdrew the bars blocking the end of the chute, while the other grabbed the first girl by her hair and dragged her out and pushed her onto an industrial weighing machine. I called out the number on her tag and the weight shown as the other one then replaced the bars and came forward to help control the girl. I told Sexpot to order her to keep still with her legs apart and asked the stockman to show her the cattle prod. The girl was frightened and stayed still while we checked her over before taking her measurements.