Conflicted

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Business As Usual

“A fond welcome to those of you who are new guests,” Hakima bin Casimada bin Mohammad al Hecreto, the evening’s special auction host, addressed the attentive and already slightly plastered audience in the ship’s

main salon.

The company that sponsored these events knew from experience that the small additional expense of providing complimentary drugs and alcohol always paid off because most bidders got sloppy after three or four glasses of champagne or a couple of fat, weed-stuffed cigars. What might have initially looked like a short, fat, heavily tattooed young woman with drooping breasts and a cellulite ass on the display stage seemed to become more desirable as the auction progressed. One buyer from Canada was heard to often repeat his favorite mantra that seemed to imply that his clients were only interested in the fuckability of slaves he provided. His favorite line was: “So what if she has a face like a pig. Who looks at the chimney while they’d stoking the fire?”

Indeed, buyers often fought over a product that was designated as “disposable” by the auctioneers but which, near the end of the program was getting bids that she never would have merited with a sober audience.

“It is possible, Hakima often said to her associates,” that they are so attentive because the naked, chained young men and women bound uncomfortably to the posts and pillars around me now appear more desirable to their muddled brains, thanks to the generous indulgences we provide. But, of course, that is just great marketing on our part and we have never regretted the alcohol and drug expenses. If this is what it takes to get their c***s up and their wallets open, then it is Allah’s wish. For it is written that ‘to find a good slave is easy. To keep a great slave is a challenge.’ “

Hakima spoke softly, in nearly a monotone. She knew well that the various quotations she frequently attributed to fictious deities, saviors and celebrities were so much bull s**t, but it made her job easier if her clients thought they were abiding by some ancient writings or religious pontifications. Indeed. Of course, there were always a few hecklers. That very morning, a middle-aged broker from Ghagestan who looked a bit disheveled, shouted from the audience: “Oh please, Haki, spare us the quotations from nowhere and get on with it. We do not have all day to listen to your baseless babble. But tell us, where is that last quote supposedly from.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, the hostess quickly responded:

“Ah yes, Mister Warrinovitch, you seek enlightenment regarding the source of my references to the scriptures? Well, my dear heathen friend, I must point out that over the past two years you have tried, (unsuccessfully, I might add), to return products which you bought from this auction. In each case, our unbiased, third party investigators found that the products had been badly abused and were essentially worthless thanks to your poor care and attention. At one time, you and your property managers were barred from this event. Keeping a good slave requires attention and basic care that you and yours do not seem to understand. I can offer a simple solution, if you like.”

“Yes, and what is your stinking solution? The Sicestani asked with a sneer.

“The solution, for the comfort of all present, is that you leave now. All contracts between you and us are terminated and void.”

“Nah,” shouted the Stani, realizing that she was calling his bluff. “No thanks. I have enough scriptures on the walls of my private plert to last me another hundred years.”

“But of course, My Friend,” Hakima said, smiling. “Of course, you are well versed in the writings from cave walls of Mesopotamia? May I proceed now, Sir?”

“Yes. Proceed.”

Still carefully working her long proven script, Hakima turned back to her audience and continued:

“We welcome you and want to take this opportunity to remind those of you who are long term guests, as well as new members, that bidding for any product offered here tonight is unlimited in every respect. However, you must indicate your bid by pressing the remote button on your chair’s left arm rest or simply by using whatever bidding indication you have arranged with the auctioneer, who is, of course, me.” Hakima laughed a deep, almost masculine, laugh that made her elaborate hooded head dressing appear to shiver.

“You have already inspected the merchandise, so you know that there are no warrantees and that each product, though carefully inspected and trained, is sold ‘as is.’ Once made, no bids can be withdrawn,” she continued. And hopefully, you have ignored the whining, the promises of gratuitous s*x and other bogus entreaties?”

“What about jewelry?” another female buyer in the crowd shouted.

“As is written in the contract you signed, Doctor Hippe, any hardware attached to your purchase is part of the deal. Also, as you know, I’m sure, some attachments, as well as tattoos, are more or less permanent and may require surgery for removal. That is your option, of course.”

“Yes, yes. Of course,” the woman continued. “But some of this junk that they have stuck in their nose, cheeks, eyebrows and tongue is worthless. There is always the risk of infection from such pointless devices and I had hoped that you and your excellent staff might remove such trivia before the sale.”

“I agree,” Hakima said quickly. “But young women and men these days do stupid things to their bodies. So do their owners. Consider the multiple hanging weights on the lower lips or the cheap jewels imbedded in the foreskin of the c**k or c**t. This stuff is part of the malignant, destructive culture of today’s youth. Putting tattoos on a slave, albeit temporary, is like painting graffiti on an alley wall. And the costs of removal are similar. Were we to undertake removal of all of this crap, our operating costs would sky rocket and thus, so would the prices you pay to acquire them. Thus, it is up to you, the new owners, to decide about such things. Some of these can be easily adjusted. For example, one client recently bought, at a fair price, a very attractive trans gender product that had an array of truly awful tattoos on the left arm. Removal, the client knew, would be expensive and would limit the slave’s usefulness for a time, so she, the owner, had the slave’s left arm removed. The audience groaned. Hakima smiled and continued.

“I have customers who simply will not accept tattoos and or body piercings. Period,” said the buyer. “This leaves fewer candidates for us to consider.”

“We realize that, Doctor. And we share your concern. Many women today choose to emulate celebrities and sports figures, having no clue about the impact such inane disfigurements will have on their future lives. Let me say this to hopefully moderate your concern. You, as a physician and longtime client, should you wish to purchase any contaminated individual here, can be assured that I will personally discount the final price of anything you buy. This should compensate you for removal costs you may incur.”

“Thank-you,” the buyer responded. “That is fair enough. I agree with your comments and have found over time that the tattooed subjects often have personal psychological problems that defy normal diagnostic tests but which inevitably reveal serious mental issues.”

“Indeed, my dear doctor. We monitor this issue carefully. Our policy is that if we do not find any surface ink on a new subject, we keep them isolated to see exactly what other debasement of body and soul they may exhibit. After two weeks in isolation, you might be surprised at what we discover.”

“There are no surprises in this game, Madame Chairman. Just new mysteries,” Dr. Hippe, the client, said as he wandered off into the secure area where products yet to be sold were kept. He passed a small cage with a whimpering, pale, apparently female body secured by wrists, feet and neck to the heavy bars and wearing an iron brank that obscured the tormented face. There were new bandages below the waist and some smaller ones with recent blood stains on the arms and legs.

On the top of the cage, in several languages was a detailed notation that said that this specimen had no diseases, no piercings, no tattoos and was at stage three of gender transition and to alert the dispensary if the patient exhibited any problematic issues.

“There is an interesting creature in sector three,” the doctor said to Hakima once he returned to the auction floor. “Looked like an ideal candidate for a housemaid or perhaps even a f**k toy for the teenagers in the house. Probably damaged beyond redemption, though. Perhaps this is a long term effect of previous training, parenting or schooling,” Hippe mused to himself as he moved on to a more brightly lit area of the warehouse. “But medical records continue to be the best source providing clear evidence that prolonged depression and an occasional beating in early life tend to encourage the need for further permanent damage to body and mind.”

Back on the sales floor, Hakima continued with her recitation of rules and policies, even though she knew that ninety percent of the attendees had heard all of this before.

“All bids are final,” she continued. “And will be in no less than ten thousand Euro increments. As has always been our policy, there are no refusals, no returns, no added fees. All winning products must be claimed at the end of the auction and, unless you make other transport arrangements, the products will be taken to your previously indicated destination. All packaging, shipping and restraints are at your expense and we offer customized encapsulization for air, rail, motor transport or ship transport. No destinations beyond twenty-four hour transit are permitted. That is, if you have a final destination in mind which normally requires two or three days transport, even by the most expeditious carrier, such as Indonesia, Australia or New Zealand, you must agree to an intermediate stop whereupon the products will be cared for and watered before transiting further. They will be placed in the care of an authorized, bonded shipper and forwarded as required. Any destination that can be reached by direct non-stop air from here is strongly recommended. It is also our recommendation that you select a final destination not more than twenty four flight hours away and that you give us a twenty-four hour delay window if weather or other matters beyond our control should delay the flight.”

Hakima hesitated, slowly surveying the rapt audience which was about fifty percent male and fifty percent female and nearly hidden by the dim lighting and the heavy smoke from hookahs and cigars. The high capacity, eight ton, air conditioning and filtration system hummed quietly in the background to deal with the smoke, but this was useful because the sound virtually eliminated the occasional screams and muffled shouts from the backstage holding cells. Occasionally, the sounds of heavy diesel engines of the trucks delivering or removing goods added to the ambient noise.

The speaker continued: “Specialty packaging can, of course, be arranged, including, but not limited to life support equipment. Full time security, mixed media entertainment, product stimulation apparatus and escort service from our Intertrans Services subsidiary or any other recognized transport of your choice is always available. For example, a one hundred percent restrained subject, no matter how accustomed she or he might be to being immobilized for long periods, should always be provided with entertainment. Allow me to demonstrate.

Curtains behind the podium parted and a metal coffin-like box was wheeled out on a four-wheeled trolley. The coffin was positioned upright at a ninety degree angle so that its contents were clearly visible to the audience. Inside, held in place with wide locked straps, was a naked young woman with an array of wires, cables, and hoses connected to various body parts. Over her face was a virtual display goggle and in her crotch, was a compact f*****g machine that was engaged in rooting deep inside the girl’s p***y. “Unfortunately, what you cannot see at this time is the secondary machine similarly probing her ass,” Hakima narrated. “These machines are automated and can be set to operate in cycles during the twenty-four hours of transit. Their purpose is to keep her awake and in a constant state or arousal. The third unit, mounted on the facial brank, is for oral activity and also houses a micro-mike so that her responses can be heard if anyone wishes to hear how she is doing.

“In special request cases, we can also arrange to have the product accompanied inside the container for some mutual engagement,” Hakima stopped to take a sip of water and then continued.

“Let me add here,” she said gravely,” that specialty packaging at times presents a wide range of potential issues, so I suggest that you keep it simple and avoid possible red flags with carriers or governments of countries your package may transit. For example, while we of course encourage and offer the most restrictive shipping accommodations, because of annoying but necessary customs and immigration regulations, it is best to keep transportation packages low key. Containers looking, smelling or sounding like they may contain more than the delicate electronic equipment specified on the bill of lading can raise red flags for port inspectors whereas a nice, securely sealed, waterproof, self-sustaining and lightweight crate that does not emit any sounds or even a pulse are usually passed through without delay. In many cases, these are tagged as “human remains” in eight languages on the exterior of the box and this generally keeps nosey eyes away. We have occasionally used other diversions, such as “porcine specimens for scientific research, as ‘protected by the Suez Conference of international Trade, 1988.”‘

“Obviously, there are times when either government or criminal elements ignore or violate these laws and we may find it necessary to punish these offenders accordingly. In our vast experience, the best punishment is to quickly abduct the offenders, render them in a local facility we own and place them in the same sort of enclosure you see here.”

The body in the coffin seemed to vibrate and discomforting noises emerged from behind the brank gag and hood.

“Just to demonstrate, I activated all three remotes for this package and as you can see and hear, she, who by the way, is a male to female trans subject, is getting the message through her new cunt, her asshole and her mouth. He/she was a mid range customs inspector for the UK and he/she made the mistake of thinking that by exposing our system, she would be rewarded. This is her reward. It will continue long after she leaves here and will reflect the lack of tolerance we have with any violation of our corporate privacy.”

“In mentioning this, I will add and strongly suggest that you purchase our proprietary body silencers for each package you ship. We guarantee absolute silence with this accessory and insure that no damage will be done as well. Should any curious official foolishly choose to open the container, they will activate the alarms and both smoke and indelible powder will saturate the area. Warnings in several languages appear on all outer surfaces. Additional demonstration displays are in the lobby for your inspection. Achmed will be pleased to activate any demos you wish to observe.

“There is one other unpleasant matter which I must share with you. At times in the past, we have been cleverly infiltrated by various competitors and organizations who do not wish us well. As you can appreciate, such a violation of our privacy cannot be tolerated. When we discover these spies, (such as the one we have here), we ascertain, by various means, the identity of their masters and take severe action against all parties. In the past, the normal defensive action we would take involved emasculation of the males and similar punishments for female offenders. If merited, lifetime consignment to a harem for the remains of their short, painful life is provided. Females meet with total desexing and end up in some garbage dump in Sudan seeking used cans and bottles to finance their daily needs.”

Hakima continued: “As you know, some things have changed. Allow me to demonstrate how our wrath and retribution is manifested today. Please bring out the demonstration carts.”

Hakima motioned towards the left side of the stage and the three woman security team rolled out three new wheeled trolleys, each with a naked, hooded occupant standing upright and chained by the neck and hands to a heavy wooden post mounted on the cart. Two of the standing individuals appeared to be female and the one in the middle had male organs between its legs and a large set of female breasts on its chest. As the carts were brought to center stage and the guards departed taking the first demo coffin with them, Hakima walked up to the first sweating figure and applied a small, hand-held taser to a shivering buttock. The figure winced, moaned into the hood and struggled to avoid the next application of the electronic device.

“Struggles, such as these,” Hakima intoned with a grim expression,” are useless. You will note the recent whip marks and the scars from other electronic incentives. Note also that this one stands quite erect because of the steel pole going upward from the trolley’s base, between the legs and, in this case, up into the colon and lower intestine. The end of the pole is a rather large and flexible p***s-shaped probe and has been slowly extended each day until it is well embedded inside this spy, who, by the way, was working for a foreign government agency that sought to undermine our enterprises. In this case, this suffering male specimen will be encouraged to tell us everything he has not revealed thus far and then he will perhaps be further transitioned to the female gender and join the rest of our slave inventory to be sold, minus his tongue and these,” he added, reaching out and twisting the metal caged c**k and balls still dangling between the slave’s spread legs. Inside the hood, the product emitted a low moan.

“Occasionally, we determine that there is value in sending such specimens back to their former bosses as a warning not to dabble in the affairs of others,” Hakima added. “The apparently female slave in the center was initially another male spy and it seemed useful to convert it quickly into what you see here.” Hakima stepped back as if to admire the handiwork of the company’s surgeons.

“Note the double extensions sprouting from the cart’s base. This facilitates dual penetration of the original lower intestinal tract as well as the newly created v****a. We discovered that with advanced surgical procedures, we were able to extend the newly fabricated female organs upward into the torso and the probes you see disappearing into the new p***y now go well up inside. When the probes are finally withdrawn, a remotely triggered explosive package, appearing on X-rays and other scans as a harmless heart monitor, will be inserted permanently instead. We will then ship this spy back to its original source to be detonated at the appropriate time and place. Its memory will be erased so that even if it could communicate, nothing of value will be learned from it prior to detonation.”

“If you are curious about the third demonstration object here, I can simply tell you that this was one Boynton Reed, most recently an employee of Mercury Facilitators, a private Asian spy agency retained to infiltrate our group. Mister Reed was apprehended only yesterday and thus the deep penetrator up his ass is only starting to work. His privates were cut off using a laser device usually reserved for emasculating cows and sheep and his career as an industrial spy is over. He will be sold pretty much as he is now. We will not waste resources and time on adding gender-specific parts and there is sufficient demand for sexless creations such as he is to make his immediate sale worthwhile. Anyone who wishes to make an offer should see me or a member of my staff after the auction.

“That said, ladies, gentlemen… and other genders, again welcome and may you win the products you desire. Let the auction begin.”