The Flesh Trade, Pt. 4: The Company

Story by Wolfhound_22 on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

#4 of The Flesh Trade

This is a story series for Lupercus Whitewolf This story is a bit longer than the others. I'd planned on having this as a series of very short blurbs but this one took longer to figure out and write but here it is. Lupercus doesn't appear till the end of this chapter but he will play a very active role in the last 3 chapters.

This chapter mostly deals with the operation of Servicorps up until the arrival of Roki, a strange new character that often appears before the fall of something great.


"The Flesh Trade"

by, WolfHound Baxton

Part 4: The Company


The border collie Mason and wolf Alan Baxter had both found themselves fired from Augustine Enterprise's slaver company due to some disagreement with the management. Mason was the captain of the main slave farm in Bastana, an island nation where slavery had a quasi-legal status that allowed these sorts of businesses to run. Alan Baxter, a jet black wolf with red eyes, had been a member of Xarius Augustine's militia and one of his main trainers at the slave farm until he was fired over some policy disagreements, thinking AE had been too soft on the slaves, too tolerant of corruption, and most importantly the growing insane obsession of AE's owner, Xarius, with dragon supremacist ideology and the resulting company policy that required all non-dragons (including guards) to wear locking chastity devices.

The two of them had met at a bar one late night on Bastana's Grande Island, depressed at being outcasts with low possibilities of employment. They discussed Alan Baxter's plan to create Servicorps according to the principles of the slave training theories had had formulated over the years. This required a lot of money he didn't have though. This is where Mason came in. The border collie had become rather wealthy due to some investments and would provide the funding to secure a place for Servicorps to operate. Alan could oversee operations according to his ideas.

Mason acquired some property on Little Island, the second-largest island in the Bastanian archipelago. It was flat, green, and rather quiet with only a few islanders living there, unlike the packed resorts of Grande Island. Mason's land had once been a small airfield for light aircraft so it was covered with a few abandoned hangars and spartan buildings. After a period of construction, the buildings were completed. Servicorps was surrounded with two rings of fences and a layer of barbed wire between them with guard towers on each corner. A helicopter was acquired and a helipad tower built as a receiving station for new slaves and general port of entry. One of the hangars was converted into a slave barracks, lined with cages. The terminal and control tower was converted into guard quarters and a medical bay. Another hangar was converted into a "drone factory," where more intense slave training could occur and finally the largest hangar was converted into a training facility that included a gym, swimming pool, and "disciplinary" facilities in closed off side rooms.

Servicorps was now ready to begin processing its first crop of Bastanian "foreign guest workers," as the island nation's government referred to those foolish enough to sign themselves over to this life for whatever pittance they might have been promised when their contracts expired. But as usual, there were problems. As has been described before, Xarius Augustine was a greedy monopolist and his power and influence was felt throughout Bastana. It was said he even controlled the government there.

Xarius could tolerate no competition to his own slaver business, so he set about sabotaging Servicorps. The majority of his fire was reserved for the wolf, Alan Baxter. Alan was falsely accused of destruction of slave property on Grande Island and the theft of building schematics from AE's slave farms. In truth, Alan had been focused on overseeing construction at Servicorps and had only been to Grande Island once to shop for supplies, but made a hasty exit when he saw the police eying him warily and trailing his movements. Alan decided it wasn't safe to return to Grande Island and this proved to be a correct suspicion as the false accusations mounted in his absence, connecting him to a string of robberies and even implicating him falsely in the disappearance of a high ranking bureaucrat of the Bastanian state.

It was soon apparent that Alan was only safe at Servicorps' compound, so there he stayed, but the construction and even later operation of the slave farm was disrupted by strange equipment malfunctions, slave poisonings, and even an explosion or two. Some minor investigation revealed that this was likely caused by spies and saboteurs working for Xarius. In addition to this, it proved difficult for Servicorps to get a license to collar and market slaves in the islands due to bureaucratic sabotage, but Mason managed to throw enough money at that problem, legitimate and otherwise, to keep it under control.

In addition to all these other woes, it was difficult for Servicorps to retain staff for a number of reasons. Xarius' operations soaked up most of the best qualified people and those trainers coming to Servicorps were few in number and tended to be a motley collection of hyper-experienced veterans seeking to be part of a more "elite" unit and failures and layabouts ejected from AE. This toxic mixture and attempts to manage the situation just caused even more trouble and Alan Baxter was forced to do most of the work himself, as Mason seemed to not have the inclination to do slave training.

The other more permanent staff weren't much help either. The monitor lizard Dane had done a great job assisting with building and putting the place together but demanded a staff position among the trainers. The only problem was he didn't do any training and preferred to "test out" the bondage equipment. His partner Astrus, also a monitor lizard, was a bit more useful as he kept the slave nutrient broth machines running. The machines themselves were a good piece of work, as was the nutrient broth, and helped the facility run smoothly, according to Alan Baxter's design.

After their unfortunate contract signing and acquisition by Servicorps, new slaves would be brought to the island by helicopter. They were met by a trainer who would "initiate" them into their new position. More often than not, this person was Alan himself, as processing duty was not one of the more popular jobs. While some new slaves were accepting of their fate, having realized what they were getting into when they signed their contracts, others were more combative. Often Alan would have to beat them down with his baton before forcibly stripping and handcuffing them then forcing them through the customary hosing procedure.

After a slave arrived at the helipad, the slave was expected to immediately strip or be summarily punished. Slaves who failed to comply were subjected to physical force until they did, in accordance with Alan's training theory that pain and discomfort should be steadily increased on slaves until they finally break down and comply with an order. They were then fitted with a Servicorps' control collar and sent to the branding branding station where branded with the circular mark on their left chest and right asscheek that indicated Servicorps property, in training. After this humiliating experience, they were put in a shower enclosure and hosed down like an animal as part of their "cleansing" process. The slaves were not issued uniforms as clothing was considered beneath them and the tropical island climate allowed them to be comfortable enough without them in most instances.

After their processing, slaves were taken to the slave barracks, a long building refitted from an old aircraft hangar that had cages lined on either side of it. In each cage there was one toilet, fully in the open as privacy for slaves was not a concern of the company, and one trough with nozzles above it. The trough would be filled with a liquid goo that served as the slave's only food at the camp.

Alan believed strongly that "you are what you eat," and therefore a slave's diet was controlled strictly. The nutrient broth was manufactured from various food sources and other materials at an on-site chemical plant run by the monitor lizard Astrus. The food would be sprayed into each slave's trough at the appropriate time of day and each formula was specifically tuned to the slave it was being fed to to meet that slave's training goals.

All slaves were fed a low protein diet for the first few weeks to make it hard for them to concentrate as they were taken from their cages at random times to be abused and tortured by the trainers. Tortures could be simple beatings or whippings, of which Alan Baxter had written a standardized manual recommending different types and situations, or more psychological, involving loud music or creating Pavlovian reactions in the slaves as they developed fears and likes for certain stimuli based on reward and punishment. A few weeks of this treatment could confuse a slave and break its identity.

After this initial period of breaking the slave's nutrient broth content was changed based on what type of servant the slave would be marketed as. Dedicated sex slaves would be fed chemicals and food components that would heighten the libido. Work or guard slaves would be fed high protein diets, and so on. The slaves were then trained to maintain their physical fitness in the physical training room, disciplined as necessary and then given some training in whatever skill they were expected to specialize in before being delivered to the paying customers as they ordered. When their training was complete and they were ready for sale, they were branded again inside the circle of their earlier brand to show they were a fully trained and ready Servicorps product. From then on their training focused on maintenance until they were sold.

While Dane didn't train the slaves, he did keep the utilities at the base running and the supply lines open by arranging the shipments of the necessary goods needed for his partner Astrus to create the nutrient broth in the correct amounts. Dane and Astrus both also shared Alan's philosophy on slave training which recommended them.

The problem though was in the actual trainers. Servicorps found itself in a difficult position, not being able to hire and retain enough high quality trainers, which, regrettably, forced Alan Baxter to take on a great deal of the work himself. It didn't help that Astrus' less than charming personality was often a source of bother to the trainer staff on base.


"I am the goddess of death!," shrieked the female slave hideously, nude of anything except her collar and slave brands. "I am immortal ... and all pain is an illusion!"

Alan Baxter responded by whacking her in the stomach with his baton, a perturbed expression on his face. He faced a litany of cat calls and hoots from the other slaves, a great deal of them female as he recalcitrant female slave, a strange black wolf with red hair on her head.

Alan looked down at the pens and snarled at the other slaves, turning his head back to the uppity wolfess in front of him. She oofed and fell to the floor but maintained her defiant posture.

Alan took his boot now and pushed the tip of it against her face. "You will kiss it, slave!," he yelled. "Or you'll spend the next three hours in the hotbox!"

The slave oofed, turned her head to the side and grunted as Alan's foot smooshed her head to the cold metal floor, but not so hard to crush it.

"Ahem!, ..."

Suddenly the slave barracks silenced. Alan turned his head and blinked, observing someone unauthorized in his domain, blinking confused.

Even the disobedient female slave on the floor, still crushed under Alan's boot, stopped squirming and turned her eyes to gaze on the new arrival.

"Need some help big boy?," the new one asked in a strangely androgynous high-pitched voice, neither male nor female.

The new arrival was an amphibian of indeterminate species, at least at first glance. The creature's species could not be quite ascertained. The head was long and serpentine but pointed like a shark's. Two pointed ears gracefully swept back behind the new arrival's patrol cap. The new one had long flowing hair and a generally feminine way of moving and form of body in spite of having no noticeable breasts and a very masculine military uniform and gear vest. The smooth skin, that which was visible, had an odd pattern. It was white with dark purple circular stripes around it, covering and going up the tail, down and over the creature's snout. The arms were covered by those purple stripes as well, each arm ending in a set of four needle-like claws which he (or was it she?) waved around elegantly while speaking.

"Who are you?," asked Alan suspiciously. "How did you get in?"

"I'm Roki ... Artist, professional of life, and veteran soldier. Oh yes, you can check my background if you wish."

"That still didn't answer my second question," said Alan, paws in fists, pushed on his hips. The slave beneath him squirmed and squeaked uncomfortably as the boot weighed down on her face, making its impression into the fur of her cheek. Clearly Alan was too distracted by the new arrival to completely hold back.

Oh, one of your little minions hired me," said the creature, a sneer of disdain on its face. "I must have been taken through in and put through the orientation program and everything without your knowing because, you know, you're too busy down here having fun."

"That so huh?," said Alan, still looking skeptical at the cocky recruit. "Then perhaps you think you can handle this one. She's a little firestorm she is. Completely rebellious, disobedient, and delusional that she's the immortal dark goddess of rain or some shit like that."

"I am!," shouted the wolfess slave. "And when I come back in my true and glorious form I shall smite you all with the sword!"

Alan growled again down at the wolfess, reaching for the electric baton hanging from his belt.

The creature smiled, a surprisingly charming face for such an unusual being. "How cute... So... my offer still stands, if you need any help?"

"Look here you!," said Alan pointing his electric baton at the strange creature with a growling, insulted face, ears pinned back. "I've been breaking and training slaves for fifteen years. I wrote the book on the subject, quite literally! You know _Dark Descent? ... A Guide for Interrogators and Trainers for Extracting Information and Compliance?_The book used by slavers, dictators, and torturers everywhere? I did that! I did the research, the experimentation. I know what I'm doing!"

This little tirade was immediately followed by some jeers and even chuckles from some of the slaves in the cages on the side of the slave barracks, some waving their arms dismissively or even angrily through the bars. As the jeers died down, only one sound remained, that of Roki clapping ... slowly, sarcastically.

"Oh Bravo!," said Roki, finally stopping its clapping."

"Aaanghn!," screamed the female, finally managing to squirm herself out from under Alan's boot in an attempt to make a run for it.

"Zzzzap!,"

The activation of the shock collar left her grasping her neck and falling to her knees, screaming that high-pitched banshee yowl that only a tortured female can.

Alan walked over to her quickly, giving her a firm whack with his electric baton right on her exposed buttocks, causing her to scream and flail and fall flat on her front. Then Alan brought his boot up and planted it on her back again.

"You really want to spend another week in solitary, wench!?"

"Nnngh," sniffled the female, struggling. "You can't hold me! I have mind teleport powers! I can teleport myself anywhere I want to be! Nnnng... nnng... I am not here. I am in a happy place ... happy ... place."

"Yes, you are," said Roki, coming over and leaning down, peering into the rebellious slave's face, who locked eyes with her.

"Welcome to the Realm of the Dead, oh great goddess. I am but your divine messenger."

"R... really?" said the wolfess.

"Yes really... these visions are a test to prove your worthiness. You must endure your ordeals of service before your ascension is complete."

"This is hogwosh!," scoffed Alan... though it must be said, the slave was mesmerized, calm, obedient.

"First the ordeal of service, glorious goddess. To serve your servants, kiss my hand."

Roki held out one of her clawed hands, which the dark wolfess began to lick and slobber over with dedication, oblivious to Alan's boot on her back."

"Well, it works!," responded Roki.

"Yeah, for now. You going to make her into a perfect slave by feeding her delusions?"

"Oh, I know what I'm doing too... also it looks like you got your hands full around here. Staff problems I assume? I think I can help you there."

Alan blinked and sighed for a moment. He was annoyed by the manner of his new arrival for sure, but he would do almost anything for a chance at just some bodies, any bodies to keep the place manned.

"You say you're a veteran?"

"Yes, I did interrogations of enemy prisoners. I'm still in touch with most of my unit. I can point them your way."

"Well," said Alan, after thinking about it a bit. "If you can get a bunch of high quality people who know how to deal with prisoners and aren't afraid of Xarius' thugs and your place here is assured, I can tell you that... I think you should meet my partner, Mason."


"What!? I'm busy!"

A knock came on the door of Mason's office, it was locked, as usual. The reclusive border collie, the money man of Servicorps was not known to participate in the day to day efforts in running the camp, but spent his time in his office in a room of the old control tower, quiet, isolated from the rest of reality. He spent most of his time crunching the numbers and arranging all the logistics necessary to keep the slaver facility running while Alan was busy trying to tame them with minimal staff.

"I have someone who I think you'd be interested in meeting," said Alan.

"Oh?"

The door unlocked and Alan entered the office, along with Roki.

"This is Roki. An impressive new prospect. She tamed one of the "recruits" completely without a single beating. She's also got several associates that she'll be bringing in to help us."

"Really? ... that's impressive, given that you and your current staff have been beating and whipping with very little results for the past several months," said Mason.

"Oh please," said Alan. "If I just had more people and the proper facilities it would all work by the book."

"So," said Mason, the border collie, turning to Roki, "you're the person who's going to turn this place around?"

"Well I have a lot of influence in certain circles, " started Roki, before stopping, as if suddenly noticing something. "Wait... you're the famous Captain Mason who used to work for Xarius Augustine's slaver operation aren't you? ... You know they say the place went to hell since you left."

Mason smiled. As the utter vain narcissist he was he was always keen to have someone stroking his ego. "Why yes, that's me," said Mason.

"And you're a technical wizard too. Is it true you actually invented that electrically locking shock chastity cage he makes everyone wear?," continued Roki.

"Well, I..."

"I'm so pleased to meet you. But what is the great Captain Mason of the AE Militia doing in a backwater place like this?"

"Mostly handling the money and making sure this place doesn't fall apart. Since we're not selling enough slaves to keep up with Xarius I still need to fund this place out of pocket ... at least until Alan and his boys can come up with a miracle", responded Mason.

"That's a bit hard," said Alan, "what with the 'dragon god' Xarius hogging all the best slavers, most of the customers and generally blacklisting us out of the business with his influence."

"That's fine," said Roki totally confident. "I got some people coming in who will help turn this place around. Most of them are MPs but some are hardened interrogators from the late war zones in the Southlands. They know how to totally break and warp a captive's mind ... and what's most important of course? You'll have enough people to keep this place staffed. I'm pretty good myself, but not as good as they say. The way some talk I can do anything. Someone once said I gave birth to an eight-legged horse, but don't you believe that..." Roki snickered coyly and seductively.

"Speaking of which," came the voice of Sgt. Benton from behind them. All three of them looked at the small arctic fox, a bit too small for his uniform who stood just outside the office. He looked a bit nervous... too nervous for someone who was here to report good news. Truth be told, he had only just been released from the brig after mouthing off to Alan Baxter in a heated moment. The intense workload of training hundreds mouthy rebellious slaves with less than a dozen people took a great toll on all involved. Some tended to snap.

"You have something to say, Sergeant?," said Alan, as if he were not entirely pleased to see the person who had, until just two weeks ago been his right hand in keeping the place together.

"Just that I've screened a promising new candidate... someone you know... uh ... from AE," said the fox.

"That so?," said Alan, peering at the sergeant.

Just then, the new recruit showed himself, appearing at the office door and looking to Alan with a smile.

"Lup!?," said Alan. "Is that you?"

"Yep," said the pure white wolf, Lupercus Whitewolf. Lupercus was from Alan's unit at Xarius' slave farm, before Alan was hired. He had left Xarius' operation shortly after Alan was fired, going out with a bang by castrating one of the fox slaves without authorization. The wolf seemed nice enough on the surface, when dealing with other slavers, but under this exterior was a soul of pure sadism and cruelty. Lupercus was very serious with training, dishing out cruelty wherever it was needed, and in some places where it wasn't, in order to totally bring a slave to a place of complete objectification. Those slaves in his "care," often emerged with brandings, whip marks, and other reminders of their status.

Lupercus was dressed a bit differently now than when he worked for Xarius. For one thing, he wore less clothes. The white wolf seemed most comfortable this way. He wore a pair of military work boots and jungle camo pants. He was shirtless except for his ID tags and a gear harness he wore that carried a lot of the whips, batons, chains, and other implements he would use in his trade.

Lupercus eyed the lot of them in the room, even Roki and Mason, and only hid a sneer of disdain with the greatest of self control, mostly achieved by not looking at them much. He knew that wolves were superior to all other species, and it was for that reason he addressed Alan Baxter directly and before the others.

"Good to see you again. It'll be just like old times, only better. We won't have Xarius and the brass over at his place telling us we have to cage our dicks while working. Pain in the ass really... expecting me of all people to wear a fuckin' chastity cage," said Lupercus.

"Yeah, that's ridiculous huh?"

Roki gave Lupercus a bit of a look, as if he was going to somehow complicate the androgynous being's plans.

"Well," said Mason with a smile, barely able to keep his eyes off of the entrancing Roki as she gave him hinting glancing looks as well. "I think with Roki here, we'll be able to get the company back on its feet in no time."

"And with Lupercus helping," said Alan. "There's no way we can fail and take our rightful place as equals to the arrogant dragon lord Xarius."