A Slave's Tale

by straypup

email straypup40@hotmail.com

[ WARNING: This document may contain explicit sex or sexual themes involving bondage, sadism/masochism, nonconsensual activities, and other content that you might find objectionable. If you are easily offended or underage, do not continue reading.]

Part 3

The Evaluation

The ship stopped once during the voyage, but soon started moving again. The second time it stopped, it was at our destination. The door to our room opened, and the woman who ‘processed’ us as we came aboard stepped in, flanked by two crewmen. As she entered, the woman’s nose wrinkled slightly in distaste, and it was clear she found us offensive. I could guess why. The room was well ventilated, but there was no way we could avoid smelling terribly, of sweat and urine and the food they gave us.

"This is a barn," the woman muttered, "you even look like animals." Looking about, she was clearly right. All of us had moved to the front of our cages on all fours, eager to see if we would be let out, but also nervous. The other captives and myself as well, I’m sure, bore fixed looks of timidity and fear. "We have arrived at port," the woman continued, "and you will be disembarked soon. So that there can be no confusion, I will tell you clearly now that there is no hope of rescue. The ship you were on before radioed a may-day, and then sank into the Okapi trench. Investigators will find records indicating that the ship may still have contained explosives from its previous duty as a hazardous materials transport. The Tremov, which you are on board at the moment, responded to the may-day, and reported no sign of your ship, and no survivors. You are all assumed dead."

"We are now in port at Gunnery Island, a small nation in the south west Pacific. The island," she said with special emphasis, "has special laws. Laws which allow slavery, among other things. The international community might object, but they do not know where we get our slaves. Foreigners are not allowed onto the island without being carefully selected first, and the few human rights groups that we have allowed in have been happily fooled into believing that what we call slavery is simply humane and contractual servitude. Furthermore, the medical research that is accomplished here convinces most nations to look the other way."

"You will now be taken off the ship. If you resist, you will be hurt until you obey. You will be transported to a facility on shore, where you will be evaluated and prepared for sale on the slave market. Our buyers range from the very wealthy looking for servants– or toys– to researchers looking for assistants or test subjects." The woman’s face hardened suddenly. "You are all considered too talented a group to be wasted as lab rats," she said darkly, "but if you convince us that you cannot be properly trained into your new positions, that is exactly how you will end up serving."

Giving us a final, challenging look, the woman turned at left. Over the next half hour, crewmen came and left, releasing two or three of us at a time and half leading, half carrying their captives out the door. When my turn came, a burly crewman, wearing rubber gloves and clearly eager not to make too much contact with my dirty body, helped me down from my cage. Forcing myself into a standing position, I immediately began to ache all over, and with the guards support and prodding I moved out of the room, down a corridor, and up onto the ship’s deck.

A small holding pen had been erected there of wire mesh, and I was thrown in with the other captives and told to stretch, and not to speak. I looked around for Kimi, but she must have been taken to another area of the ship. After ten or twenty minutes of fresh, cold air and standing upright, we were herded down a ramp to the shore and placed into several white vans. After a short drive, we were once again unloaded, into what looked like a more permanent holding pen. About thirty of us stood around in a dirt yard, enclosed on three sides by a tall metal fence topped with barbed wire, and on the fourth side by the wall of a modern looking building. More waiting then, as weapon toting uniformed guards took one of us at a time into the building.

I was one of the first to be taken in. As soon as I entered the building, guards held my arms as a lab coated worker placed a steel collar around my neck. Pressing a button at his wrist, felt once more the electrical jolt, strong enough to bring down on my knees in pain. Nodding with satisfaction, the attendant clipped a short leather leash onto a ring on my collar, and ordered me to follow him and not to resist. The man was very young, not much older than me, but I knew that I was helpless to do anything, and blushing uncontrollably, I meekly followed at the end of the lead.

In the next room, I was unceremoniously stripped of my briefs, and was tethered by the leash up against a metal wall. Standing there, awkwardly naked, I was quickly and painfully cleaned as my caretaker hosed me down with a powerful stream of cold water. I was given a towel and told to dry myself, and then led into yet another room, where I was seated at a table across from another man. While my attendant stood next to me holding my leash, I was interviewed at some length about my college courses, work experience, and skills. They somehow had already obtained a copy of my transcript and resume, and uncertain of how much they already knew, I answered the questions honestly.

The next step in my ‘preparation’ appeared to be a medical checkup. I was led into what looked like a standard doctor’s office, and told to get up on the examining table. Once there, my leash was removed from my collar, and a metal cord was locked on instead, the other end locked into a slot in the wall. My attendant waited with me for a minute or two, until the door opened and a lab coated woman entered. Embarrassed, I immediately moved to cover myself with my hands

Giving me an irritated look, the woman– obviously a doctor– touched her wrist and again pain swept over me, causing me to whimper involuntarily. "Lie back on the table," she said, smiling, "hands at your sides." Convincing myself that this was simply a medical examination, and having no real choice about it anyway, I lay back. At first it seemed like any normal visit to the doctor, as she checked my eyes, ears and nose, then palpated my abdomen for pain or tenderness. Having finished with that, however, she ordered me up onto all fours. A warning looking and a gesture towards her wrist was enough to secure my obedience, and I knelt there anxiously with her behind me.

At first she seemed to be checking my spine for deformities, but soon I felt her gloved hand on my crotch, lightly squeezing both my testicles in turn, and then pulling my cock to one side and then the other as she peered closely at it, examining it for any abnormalities I supposed. As she prodded me, she ask a quick series of questions about my sexual past, learning that I had had a girl friend, but was still a virgin, had never had sex with a man, and (as I blushed furiously) that I masturbated regularly.

At that point another woman entered the room, wearing business clothing and carrying a briefcase. She and the doctor spoke quietly together for a minute at the other end of the room, then both came over to me. I had not choice then, but to kneel it pure humiliation as the new woman executed her own examination of me. "I think," she said to the doctor, "he will do better by far as a pleasure slave rather than a worker. With his looks, he’ll fetch a much higher price." As she said this, her bare hand ran down over my rear and began toying with my balls. To my horror, I felt myself rapidly becoming erect.

The doctors murmured approvingly. "I’ll run an aptitude test immediately, then," she said. Motioning to my male attendant, who still stood in a corner of the room, they worked together, pulling metal restraints out from under the examining table and quickly securing me in my all-fours position on the table, with a brace holding my head motionless and looking ahead.. At the attendant began attaching sensors to various parts of my body, including my crotch, I felt a needle enter my arm and something being injected into me.

What happened next is very foggy in my memory. Whatever the doctor had injected into me was fast acting, and almost immediately I found myself mentally blanking out, awake but finding it very difficult to think coherently. I watched passively as a screen was set in front of me and several devices aimed at my face. Blinking, I observed the room and become dark and I seemed to be alone. The screen turned on then, and for some time I recall there flashed several images of cars, houses, chairs and other objects. The pictures shifted then. Images of naked women in various poses began to cycle across the screen, and I felt my body begin to respond, rendered fully uninhibited by whatever drug I had received. As the female pictures came and went, males were introduced as well. Male and female, the models sometimes bore smiles, or grimaces, or inviting looks. Unable to think clearly, I recall that my response to the male images was nearly as strong as that to the female.

After some time, the lights came on again and the doctor and the suited woman both reentered. To spaced out to feel ashamed at nudity or erection, I listened passively and they reviewed the data displayed on several screens on one end of the room. "High over all sexual aptitude," the doctor commented. "He responds beautifully to the woman, and also has a high enough male response that we can classify him as bisexual. Posture and facial responses indicate a more submissive than dominant nature. I think you placed him right."

As the attendant stripped away the moisture and heat sensors from my body, I observed behind my mental haze that, now flaccid, I had left a small pool of urine on the examining table. Tutting admonishingly, the doctor placed a towel under me. "Quite normal, the result of the drug," she commented to the evaluator. As I was freed of the metal restraints, she gently lay me on my back and pulled out what looked exactly like an oversized, pink diaper from a drawer. "Normally I give the boys blue," she said smiling down at me as she slid the diaper under my rear and began taping it up. "But since I’m out of them, you’ll have to wear pink. It’s actually rather cute, you know?"

"I’ll hold him here over night, until the drug wears off," the doctor said to the other woman. "He’ll be taken with the others to the sale tomorrow." I was then led off on my leash by the attendant down a corridor, into a warmly lit medium sized room. Familiar looking cages lined three sides of the room, stacked two high. Still diapered, I was placed into one, and then my hands were taken and tethered by short leads to rings on the cage door. "So you don’t get into a mischief down there, hmm?" said my attendant as he clipped my hands into place. A bowl of food was placed in front of me, and a large bottle with the familiar black nipple was also attached to the cage door, allowing me to drink without turning around, which my tied hands made impossible.

[This story is (c) copyright straypup, 1999-2000. Textual modification or commercial use of this story is prohibited by the author. If you have any questions, comments, encouragement, or criticism, email him at straypup40@hotmail.com]