Thursday, May 8, 2014

Sold Into Slavery: Transport and Storage

Part One Here
Part Two Here

Mr. Hauser led Stephanie from the room. Stephanie had no idea where they were going; with the hood over her head she was completely depending on Mr. Hauser guiding her. She shivered; the air was cold and she was naked, though she hardly noticed that any more. She just knew it was cold.

They walked a short way and then halted. Stephanie had a little trouble breathing in the hood, but long slow breaths helped. Not being able to see made her feel incredibly vulnerable. With the noises in the room, there could have been several people there, observing her standing naked. She could have been in an auditorium for all she knew, with a crowd observing her. She hunched over, feeling helpless.

Mr. Hauser spoke to Stephanie. "You are to be transported to a new location for more intensive training. Please cooperate with Miss Alma; she will be dressing you an a traditional slave's training gear and then boxing you for shipment. As you know by now, disobedience or hesitation can be punished quite severely."

Stephanie's heart plunged, her stomach turned in fear. She was to be transported.. but where? And she had caught the words boxed for shipment... what did that mean??? But she nodded her head. Ideas of escape still flittered through her mind, but she knew she had to bide her time. Go along, wait until the right moment.

A woman's voice next to her, probably Alma, "I will remove your hood. If you assist me peacefully, this will go well. If you resist, the hood will go back on and I will call others to force you into your training garb."

With this, the hood was removed and Stephanie shook her head to get the mussed hair out of her face. Alma was a tall, thin, stern looking woman wearing tight leather clothing. Mr. Hauser was seated to the side, watching the process.

"Mr. Hauser", Stephanie said humbly, head bowed,  "No disrespect is meant but do you understand that I have money? I mean, in my own country, I have a lot of money and I can transfer it to --"

A stinging slap knocked Stephanie sideways; Alma had hit her with the open palm of her hand. Stephanie reeled from the blow, amazed and shocked at how powerful a simple slap could be. After gasping from the pain, a few tears trickled down and she became silent.

Alma took a large black single garment and held it in front of Stephanie. It was made of something that looked like leather, but was shinier, more supple. Stephanie obediently stepped forward, her legs sliding into the legs of the garment with some difficulty. It was too small for her. She struggled, Alma pushing and pulling until the legs were in place.

"I... I think this is too small..." Stephanie said in a small voice.

"This training garment is exactly your size. It is designed to be form fitting. Slide your arms in."

Stephanie did as instructed, pushing herself into the tight fitting black covering. The material looked like leather but stretched and conformed tightly to her body like rubber. It made her claustrophobic. It was like being wrapped in tight fitting bandages, becoming a mummy. She was clothed, but still felt naked. The material actually pressed and cut into the slit of her pussy, giving her an obvious camel toe.

"Sit here." Alma indicated a large crate marked "Fragile". Stephanie sat, the clothing moving with her movements, though still quite tight. Alma knelt before her, taking one bare foot in her hand and sliding a boot onto it. It was like no boot Stephanie had ever seen; high, laced, with a spiked heel that rose at least six inches. Her foot was forced into a pointed position, and she noticed the end of the boot was like a ballet toe shoe. The other boot went on, laces were tightened and Stephanie was told to stand.

It was almost impossible. She was standing on her toes, like she had done when in ballet at the age of 5, but the boots forced her feet into that position. She wobbled, almost fell over but steadied herself. Stephanie began crying, small tears trickling down her cheeks. What was happening to her?

Gloves were next; long black tight fitting gloves. It was a struggle getting them on they were so tight. When they finally were on and extended all the way up to her elbows, she found her fingers would only move grudgingly. The tight material resisted movement and she couldn't imagine doing anything with them. It sunk in that the impossibility of moving her fingers, there was no way she would be able to remove any part of her outfit. She was stuck inside this black leather cocoon, dependent on others now. Completely.

"Arms behind back." Alma instructed as she also grabbed and pushed Stephanie's arms behind her back.

Mr. Hauser was sitting, smoking a cigarette as she watched the process. Stephanie realized how much pleasure he was deriving from watching her slow encasement in this weird immobilizing clothing.

Alma slid some sort of material over both of Stephanie's arms, behind her back. At first it felt like a bag, or loose covering. But as it slid up it narrowed, forcing Stephanie's arms together, smashing wrists against each other, until the pliant leather cover reached her upper arms, her elbows almost touching. Stephanie gasped, the strain on her shoulders causing cramps, and she struggled briefly. It was to no avail, the device was on her arms, and Alma was quickly fastening a strap around her shoulders which prevented Stephanie from wriggling out of the tight, constraining arm binder.

But it wasn't over; Alma began tightening the laces on the arm binder, pressing her arms closer and closer together until with a moan of pain Stephanie's elbows pressed hard together. The muscles in her shoulders stretched painfully, and she whimpered a the laces of the binder were tied off and tucked away. At each step of this dressing Stephanie felt more and more helpless.

Standing now on her ballet bondage boots, Stephanie wobbled precariously. Alma led her forward to present to Mr. Hauser for approval. The man checked the fit of the clothing, checking that it was tight and smooth in all locations. Stephanie winced when he ran his fingers between her legs, checking the incredibly tight fit in her crotch which created an obvious camel toe.

"Good, Alma. I am pleased. Finish up and then get her packed for transport."

Alma produced a strange looking floppy leather bag, which appeared harmless until she stretched it out and raised it over Stephanie's head. It was a leather hood, and it was descending down toward her head. She panicked, terrified of being trapped and suffocated, and tried to get away. But she wasn't used to wearing ballet boots as yet, and it only took one step before she fell to her knees, the creases in her tight fitting, stiff clothing cutting painfully into her flesh. She cried out.

"AAaaaahhhhhh! No, please! I can't do that, I can't, I can't!"

"Of course you can," Alma said calmly, and slid the hood down over Stephanie's head.

The hood had no mouth or eye holes. It barely had breathing holes for her nostrils. It form fitted her head tightly, and buckles were pulled tight in the back that pressed the leather against Stephanie's face and head. Her hearing was muffled, and she was blind. Tears continued to flow from her eyes, pooling in tiny gaps between her flesh and the tight leather around her eye sockets. She tried to cry out, but was unable to open her mouth, the hood was so tight.

Unable to feel anything around her because of the complete and total leather covering surrounding her body, unable to hear or see because of the hood, Stephanie was shaking and terrified. Should could feel the hands on her body, though, through her clothing, as they touched her breasts, adjusted the fit of leather around her crotch, and then forced her forward. She was lifted up by strong hands and then lowered into something that had ridges form fitting certain critical points in her body.

It hurt.

Stephanie's body had been placed into the large crate which had form fitting cutouts to hold her body in place. As she lay in position slats of wood were slid into place over her, bracing and holding her in place, absolutely still. The slats held her head, chest, hips, and legs steady, preventing movement. Her legs were bent all the way back, and then secondary slats were placed over the top of her body, securing her so that she could not move.

The form fitting tight black leather writhed slightly as she breathed, sobbing, and struggled what small amount she could. The wood slats might keep her motionless during transport, but they also dug into her flesh, creating a constant dull suffering.

A lid was placed on the crate and nailed shut. Stephanie was cargo, ready to be shipped.

Time was a blur. From the motion, Stephanie suspected she was on a truck. Once or twice she thought she heard human like sounds, and wondered if her crate was being transported with other hapless women like herself.  There were stops. Movement of the crate. One long stop, which made her panic once again.

How long had it been? Days? She had peed in her suit, unable to hold it in, with the resulting irritation spreading through her crotch and thighs. Considering she had only peed once, it probably wasn't more than a few hours when the truck stopped and with a loud screeching of wood on metal her crate was dragged from the truck and dumped upright.

The crate then tilted and moved as if it was being rolled on a hand truck. She was then suddenly dropped on her side with a jolt. In the distance she could just hear someone yelling, "Hey, be careful! Thats..." and then the sound was muffled. Moments later the crate was being pried open with a crowbar.

Several rough hands lifted Stephanie out of the crate. Pain shot through her legs as they tried to stretch from their bent position and she cried out, almost screaming. There were hands all over her body now, touching, feeling, stroking. She tried to move away from them but couldn't.

Finally, she felt the straps holding her hood in place loosen and then the leather pulled off her head. She gasped for air, breathing well for the first time in hours. She couldn't see, the light was far too bright, and she squinted, blinded.

"Walk with me," said a rough man's voice next to her, as a strong hand took her arm, guiding her forward. Forced to slide forward on tip toe because of her boots, Stephanie wobbled along as best she could. When she slipped, the strong hand held her up and urged her forward. Her eyes adjusted, and she saw she was in a large wooden barn like place. Chains and heavy metal cages were scattered in various parts of the room.

"Where am I? What are you doing to me?" Stephanie was finally able to form words.

"This is a storage facility. You are being placed in storage." The rough man had several days of beard growth, a flabby face but strong arms.

"What? Why? What does that mean?"

The rough man laughed. "You will understand. Don't worry, it shouldn't be for too long, a nice pretty one like you. Let's get you undressed."

Stephanie felt her heart leap at the mention of getting the horribly restrictive and painful form fitting outfit off. As the man slowly removed her armbinder and then removed her tight fitting leather top, she thought of how much she had changed in just ... what was it, a few days?

Since coming to Malsi, she had had sex with maybe 10 men. She couldn't even keep track. There was Kevin of course, at the hotel, the first night. Then Mr. Jackson, at the business meeting. Had there been someone else then? She wondered, she couldn't remember. Then she remembered begging for men to fuck her in the breeding chamber, rather than endure the torture of tit shocks when they chose someone else. Now she was in a completely unknown place, begging to be stripped naked.

Ballet boots came off, then the leather pants. Being naked felt like such a beautiful relief, it didn't even cross her mind she was being felt up by a squalid, ugly stranger. Calloused hands ran over her perfect body, feeling her breasts and ass, finally sliding between her legs and grabbing her soft folds of flesh.

"This way," the man grunted, and pulled Stephanie over to the side of the room, pushing her toward a cage. Being confined was almost expected, but as she climbed into the cage she realized just how tiny it was. As tall as she was, it was barely wide enough for her arms.

"Oh... please... this isn't... this is too small! I won't fit! Oh My God!!!!" Stephanie suddenly panicked as the door of the cage swung shut in front of her. Not only was the cage barely wide enough for her to fit her arms in, it wasn't deep enough for her body! Stephanie was slim and healthy, but the cage door pressed hard against the front of her body, and her breasts pushed out though the cage openings. It was like a heavy metal coffin, except... well, smaller. Tighter. She was held tightly, almost motionless in the cage.

"You will do fine, dear. They all do."

"Who? Who else?" Stephanie was pleading.

"All the other girls in storage. There, there, there." The gruff man pointed to where chains descended from the ceiling down into wooden panels in the floor. At first, Stephanie struggled to comprehend. There were no other girls here. What was he talking about?

Then the man removed a wooden panel beneath her cage revealing a dark hole, and released a chain at the top of her cage, causing it to descend slowly, very slowly into the hole.  Then she understood. Storage. Other girls in storage. In cages, beneath the floor.

She was to remain in this coffin-like cage, buried in a hole in the ground in this horrible place. Stored.

Stephanie screamed. Then she began pleading, babbling. "Please, no. Please don't do this. I will die. I can't go down there, please don't make me, I will do anything, anything, please, just... don't..."

The cage stopped halfway into the hole. Stephanie looked out, eye level with the gross man's waist.

"Well... I suppose I could hold you up here for a bit. As long as you are amusing me. Gotta give me a reason to keep you above ground, ya know." The man unzipped his pants and pulled out a huge, smelly, erect cock.

Tears streamed down Stephanie's face as she opened her mouth and took the foul tasting rod into her mouth. The man pushed in and out, as her head was unable to move inside the cage. He shoved deep, as she simply held her mouth open. He pushed down her throat, causing her to gag. Every second he was inside her was time she delayed her descent into the hole. It was a fair trade.

He came. Pulsing, shoving, he dumped a load deep inside her throat. She swallowed, not even thinking about the humiliation. She no longer cared. She would do anything, anyone asked of her. But then he was done, and the cage began slowly lowering again.

"PLEASE!!!!! I did it, I will do you some more, please don't!!!!" Stephanie begged.  The man pinched her nipples as she descended, but kept lowering her down. The blackness of the hole seemed to slowly immerse her in a cold liquid, the absence of light.

"Ya know, there are spiders down there. And some other bugs, I dunno their name." The man said and then laughed as Stephanie's panic and turned to hysteria.

At last, Stephanie was all the way into the hole. The man slipped a plastic tube down through the cage, right next to her face. "That's yer feedin' tube. Whenever ya get hungry or thirsty. See ya later. Maybe."

A laugh from the man was followed by a clunking noise as the wooden cover slid over her black hole. Stephanie sobbed in the darkness, unable to move, unable to think. A small bit of light was let in through a small hole above, through which the feeding tube descended. Then the light went out and it was completely dark.

Stephanie was in storage.