The Flesh Trade, pt. 5: The Betrayal
#5 of The Flesh Trade
This is part 5 of a story series for Lupercus Whitewolf. This segment of the story sets up the downfall of Servicorps and the aftermath of the final chapters to follow. Alan Baxter, former owner of Servicorps is betrayed by his own people and turned into a drone-slave himself.
"The Flesh Trade"
by, Wolfhound Baxton
Part 5: The Betrayal
"What's the meaning of this!?", shouted Alan Baxter as he struggled against the black-uniformed guards. "Don't you know who I am!?"
One of the two canine guards, his eyes concealed beneath the gray wraparound visor on his helmet, grinned at the struggles of the muscular black wolf with red eyes that they held in their firm grasp.
"
Sure we do," said the guard. "You're our newest slave drone."
"That's preposterous!, "shouted the black wolf with indignation. "I am the owner of this facility..."
"No!," came a familiar voice from the far end of the drone bay, an ominous room where slaves were converted into mindless objects to serve their Master. "I am."
Two dark figures appeared in the open doorway at the far end of the drone gay. The voice had come from the shourter, somewhat stockier one. As they entered the drone bay, first the short one, followed by the tall slender one, the door was closed behind them.
The drone bay was a long, narrow chamber with dim blue-green lighting. Two rows of evil-looking pods stood upright on each side of a narrow metal walkway down the middle of the drone bay. Wires and tubes ran from ports in the ceiling to each pod in bay. A monitor flickered above each pod, showing the vital signs and brain activity of the subject within. Some of the pods contained slaves in the process of being converted. Others were empty and awaiting fresh victims, such as the one the two garuds were pulling a struggling Alan Baxter towards as well.
"But why? You can't do this can you!? I'm no slave! I'm a soldier!"
The two threatening figures were in plain view of the dim light now, it casting a sickly blue-green glow across their faces. One was Mason, a border collie of somewhat short stature, a but chubby with an arrogant personality. He wore a business suit, his usual attire in lieu of the military or police gear encouraged for and normally preferred by Servicorps employees. Behind him stood the strange figure of a slender amphibian with beady red eyes of indeterminate gender. It was white, except for a series of circular pink stripes around its tail, arms, and across its slender, pointy muzzle. Despite its apparent amphibian background, with slimy smooth skin, it had two swept-back pointed ears and hands ending in long scissor-like claws. Its slender figure and movements hinted at a feminine gender, although it wore a dark military uniform, vest, and black patrol cap that gave it a decidedly masculine feel as well.
The strange creature rested one of its curved, scissorlike claws on Mason's shoulder, a disgusting and slimy forked tongue flickering out of its mouth towards Mason's left ear, causing it to twitch. Still, the collie stood up bolder at the creature's touch, as if its hideous clawed hands imported some sort of strange power through them.
"You're a slave now!," said Mason. "Ever since this signed lifetime indentured labor contract found its way into my paws."
What!? ... that's not right. I never signed ... Wh... Where did you get that!?"
In fact, Alan had signed the document, a last ditch "escape plan" from his predicament. It was just one of many ill-thought maneuvers made under the pressure and adversity of trying to keep the peace among his crew at this supposed "militaristic" facility. The contract had been kept securely locked in his personal safe on-base, along with many other personal documents and files. The only person at the base with the technical skill to hack his slave would have been Mason himself.
In the first year of its operation, Servicorps, the slaver company owned by Mason and Alan Baxter, had experienced a severe staff shortage and were forced to rely on castoffs from AE, their major rival slaver company. Often these rejects were of poor quality and discipline and ended up having to be dismissed.
Ever since the arrival of Roki, the strange androgynous being standing to the sinister side of and slightly behind Mason, Servicorps' chronic staff shortage had improved and professional guards and trainers were signing up in droves. All was not entirely well though, as the success of the company brought more employees and customers who came in conflict with the elite core of mercenaries that Roki had brought in, resulting in intensifying rivalries between factions of the staff and even culminating in sabotages such as killed slaves and an arson attack on the medical building. Simply put, the cohesion of the place was falling apart, and Alan himself had no loyal backers except for Roki's core, those themselves suspected of the arson and slave killings., He figured that with no loyal officers, he could smuggle himself out as a slave to a customer as an ultra last ditch effort and charm himself into his new Master's good graces, a foolish maneuver to be sure, for it had no guarantee of success, plenty of risk, and now he faced it turned back on him.
"That's not real!," exclaimed Alan as he looked at the contract. "It must be a forgery."
Roki's claws pinched the fabric of Mason's suit shoulder lightly as the odd being looked straight ahead. It tapped its claws slowly over Mason's shoulder as the collie began to speak.
"It doesn't matter whether or not it is real," said the collie. "I have it and I intend to use it. You are no longer worthy to lead this operation after your long series of blatant administrative blunders.
"I didn't have a chance!," protested Alan, still struggling against Roki's almost robotic-behaving visored canine guards. "You saw what was going on here. No matter what I would have done, nothing could have salvaged it. Everyone was too egotistical and full of themselves to respond to any regulation or reason."
In truth, Mason had not seen what was going on. He had been too obsessed with Roki, even after coming out of the seclusion of his office. The odd androgynous amphibian had enraptured his mind and senses. The collie followed it everywhere, sitting silently by in rapt observation as Roki slowly and psychologically broke down a slave's mental barriers, reducing them to a pile of obedient moldable clay. Mason was so obsessed he had even arranged for bugs to be planted in rooms that Roki was known to be in, no matter whoever else was there. Roki knew of this, but never protested, only encouraging it with a bit of flirtatious knowing eye-contact here and there when it saw Mason next. Such a look was enough to send him scurrying to his office to play back what the bug had recorded and sink into his chair with total relaxation as pure bliss from the sound of Roki's voice permeated his mind and body.
"You have offended me greatly," said Mason, "and you offended the one I love..." He wrapped an arm around Roki, the creature which still refused to speak directly to Alan.
Roki grinned sickeningly, revealing a mouth full of twisted, jagged teeth as one if its visored guards pulled and picked up a helmet from inside the drone pod that Alan was to be placed in. The helmet was connected to the top of the pod by a series of wires.
Alan struggled and tried to turn his head as the other guard grabbed for a set of specula from his belt, a pair of cruel instruments that forced his eyes open, making the victim see what one would wish to unsee.
Alan pulled his muscular arms this way and that, growling violently. He had almost broken free when one of the guards' armored knees nailed him right in the groin, taking the fight out of him and causing him to groan and struggle for breath.
This was when they pushed him back, back into the pod out of which no thinking individual being emerged, only soulless husks that served the will of their Masters. One guard secured his wrists in an upward position with the restraints inside the pod while the other guard applied the specula to his eyes, forcing them open.
Alan briefly pondered the irony of his situation -- how he had come up with the concept of the drone pod himself. He had sent countless others into these dismal chambers only to have them emerge as brainwashed machines. Now he was about to face this fate himself.
His eyes locked on the grinning face of that strange salamander-like being. The last sight his eyes would see as a true person.
Roki gazed back for a moment, a look of arrogant triumph in its eyes. Then it averted its gaze, judging Alan far too pathetic of a being to merit its sight.
Roki finally spoke to Mason, smiling down at the border collie. "It will be an excellent drone..."
That high-pitched voice, hovering somewhere between the male and female, brazenly announcing his worthlessness as anything but an object to be exploited, was the last thing his free ears would hear before the guards forced the encasing helmet down around his head, a dull gray visor covering his ever-watchful eyes.
With that done, the guards removed his boots and socks before clasping his ankles to the lower restraints of the pod, then literally ripping his pants and boxers off, revealing his dark muscular legs, sac and sheath.
Also supremely ironic was that this arch-sadist, breaker of slaves and veteran torturer with his toned and muscular masculine body was about to be converted into the very material he had spent much of his life creating -- a broken slave object.
Alan grunted now, trying to resist looking at the hypnotic spiral presenting itself before his eyes, but he truly had no freedom now, not even the freedom to see what he wanted to see. His captors could force him to view whatever they wished by means of a screen on the inside of the visor of his helmet.
As he struggled, he further considered the events that led up to his inevitable situation. Astris! ... that was it. The monitor lizard and partner of Dane, the logistics wizard who kept most of the supplies running to their facility in spite of the blockade by the dragon Xarius' militia to protect AE, his own slaver business.
It could be truly said that Alan's slave farm could not be run without Dane, who kept them supplied with food, water, fuel, ammunition, gear, and any other necessary supplies. Astris, Dane's partner, had earlier that year entered into an illicit affair with Roki. In truth, Roki was so seductive and charming that it could enthrall anyone it wished with but a few words and a kind gesture. And, thanks to its androgynous manner and appearance, could seduce anyone of either sex or any orientation.
And so it was that Astris, a somewhat diminutive and socially awkward monitor lizard, had been entrapped in the slimy tentacles of the beast, only to be released in disgust when the monster realized that it did not prefer its prey.
To be captured and released, even spurned and ignored by such a dark seducer was too much for many to bear. Many a man and woman lie dead int he wake of such a monster ... dead by the work of their own hand, unable to bear the scourge of lost love.
So it was with Astris, who didn't kill himself but went mad with grief, seeking out his lost love, begging for attention only to be spurned and rejected. Astris had also suffered insults from Roki's elite guards and complained bitterly to Alan, blaming him for the situation and harassing him so much, spreading such discontent among the staff that he was finally forced to expel him from the island.
From this moment on, Roki always carried itself a bit higher, a look of triumph in the creature's eye. Servicorps was now its own, as it iad always intended. But all was not well. Dane, the owner of the ships and planes that kept Servicorps supplied in spite of Xarius was so offended by the supposed injustice done to his partner that he threatened to pull the plug, forcing Servicorps to start from scratch with half its support... Roki's support -- staff and guards loyal only to Roki ... perhaps once again as this creature intended.
Alan had relented. He had let Astris back on the island at half-pay, placating Dane, but enraging Roki ... the vain arch-temptress. His final undoing was at hand.
A loud shrieking sound came to Alan's imprisoned ears. He struggled hopelessly at his restraints to cover his ears or pull his helmet off ... anything to make it stop, but he could not. The black and white spiral before his eyes flashed two pulses of red in tune with his heartbeat, which the pod's instruments could read. It drew his focus to it, grasping for something to drown out the pain of the now oscillating shrill noise.
The pain only became greater as the guards forced a feeding tube, connected to the drone pod's machinery, down his mouth and into his stomach. He would eat what his captors wanted him to eat, drink what they wanted him to drink, hear what they wanted him to hear, see what they wanted him to see, and ... A new pain! More evil and pernicious than the others. This drew a pathetic, puppy-like yelp from the so-called "alpha" wolf, now bound and enslaved. His body thrashed fruitlessly against his binds in his pain, hopelessly trying to double over and curl up. What was it? A sound? Yes! ... or worse, a catheter that would keep his bladder empty for his extended stay in the pod, followed by another tube, slippery with lube, inserted into his ass to keep him free of other matter. It was after this that they finally punctured his wrist, inserting an IV tube.
This secured, the guards left him, Roki and Mason following as the pod door closed, the tomb of a once free and successful wolf slaver. His brainwave readout was erratic as he pondered his mistakes, possible solutions ... all pointless now, as his fate was sealed. .. To be processed and trained into a fully obedient drone -- a living machine to serve a well-paying owner.
Soon the horrible shrieking faded, replaced with a calm and soothing sound of a gurgling stream ... relaxing in the background nose and difficult to hear the whispered words: "Submits to Master. Obeys Master. Has no self. Is nothing. Master is..." Alan's brainwave readout stabilized as he relaxed, a soothing cocktail of drugs pumping into his veins. He was becoming a drone now, as a caterpillar transforms into a butterfly. He was still a strong and handsome wolf, and would make such a useful tool for his Master.