Corporate Dealings

SLAM! “Prisoner is found guilty on all counts.” The judge, a sternly dressed woman in black sets aside the gavel and keys in a few commands on her console, not really looking at you and frankly, looking way more bored than you feel is appropriate for the gravity of your situation. “Sentence is life servitude, to be carried out after training is complete.”

“MMMMMMMMMMM!” You scream into the gag. This keeps getting worse. Your protests are ignored as the guards undoes the shackles holding your arms and legs wide, exposing your naked body to the court. Frantically you buck and resist. This is wrong! They didn’t even let you-

ZZZZZZZZZT! The guard, a muscular amazon with raven hair that matches her uniform, presses the baton into your back. As you learned earlier, this was the lowest setting. The lowest setting hurt like the dickens. “Move it prisoner.” she says, her strong arms cuffing your wrists behind you. You work out regularly, keeping fit. Not buff, you’re not a gymbo, but you certainly have biceps. She folds them like paper, effortlessly forcing the magcuffs together, and then lifting them up painfully so that your wrists are connected to a small chain running from the back of the control collar locked around your neck. Next the short chain between your ankle cuffs is secured before another shock for good measure. Gripping you by the arm, you’re dragged out of the courtroom.

You try begging one more time before the words catch in your throat. As you are half carried out of the courtroom, you see her. Alexa. That bitch. Just fucking waving you goodbye. This was all her fault. Your eyes narrow as you recall the events that brought you here….

Three Days ago.

It had been a long trip. Unnecessarily so in your opinion, but that was part of the price of doing business here in the Zeta Sector. The near constant strife that befell one of the galaxy’s prosperous independent sectors made contracting the various corporations that operated here risky. However that same strife combined with the Zetan’s vicious and cut throat meritocracy also made that business some of the most profitable. Close this deal, and you’d be able to buy a house on a pleasure world.

“All passengers; we are on final approach to Helicon IV. This is your final notice to secure all belongings for landing. We hope you have enjoyed your voyage with Zeta Starlines.” Indeed you had. Purchasing a ticket on a Zetan ship wasn’t just a good way to avoid piracy, it also allowed you to enjoy more of the ‘unique’ cultural touchstones of the cluster. Sure it was a long trip, but there were perks.

With a grunt you make one final thrust into her ass, the hooded **** girl groaning as she takes your load. “Thank you darling," you say, pulling out and giving her ass a spank. Naturally she can do nothing locked in the bondage bench, but she doesn’t need to. She’s already secured for landing.

Quickly redressing, you leave the Fuck-All-You-Want and take your seat. Alexa is already waiting for you. “Have a good time,” she asks, condescension dripping from her voice as she checks her nails. Your counterpart on this corporate venture wears a simple grey suit and skirt that hugs her curves and projects power at the same time. You had to give it her, she was a sexy blonde bitch. You had always suspected that was how she got such a high ranking executive position, but you’ve never been able to prove it.

Which was a shame. Eliminating her as a rival would grease the rails of your career track. Maybe she got where she was by sleeping her way to the top, but that didn’t make her one of the best corporate specialists he had ever worked with, and she is your major competition for a promotions when Smithers, the Division Chief back at the corporate office, retires. One of you would be replacing him. Perhaps when you get back you'll start spreading those rumors. Can't hurt your chances after all, even if it's not true.

“Oh don’t be such a downer.” You reply buckling in. “I’m simply adapting to our business partner’s customs. When in Rome darling.”

As usual, Alexa’s eye twitches when you call her darling. It never fails to warm your heart when you do that. It’s not like she can contradict you. That would show weakness, and while the corporate world of the Coalition doesn’t embrace slavery to the extent the Zetans do, weakness is not an option. “You do know that on Helicon V, males are enslaved just as often as women?”

“We’re here on business. They’re not in the habit of enslaving their business partners.” You reply with practiced confidence. “Besides, they need this deal as much as we do. They’re constantly being circled by the vultures of the sector. This trade contract will give them the edge they need to survive, and it will make us rich in the process.” You adjust a cufflink. For the meeting today you have chosen a deep blue suit that is almost black with a red tie to really pop out. Your jet black hair is slicked back in the style favored by the corporate elite.

“They’re not helpless, you know. They have an advanced security fleet. It’s not technically a military, but there’s a reason coalition forces aren’t willing to engage in privateer activities in this region.”

“Yes, yes, they’re empowered women. Really embraced their inner goddess and all that jazz.” You wave your hand dismissively as a hobble skirted flight maid comes by and collects your trash before landing. Idly you smack her bum as she passes. You’re loving the Zeta sector so far.

The landing is a smooth one but, as is typical across space ports throughout the galaxy, everyone is **** to wait for a little under an hour on the tarmac. Somehow that’s always the longest part of any flight. No matter though. Once through it’s a quick stop through customs, which seems to be a much quicker affair than you're used to. Credit where credit is due, the Helicon Security is business-like and professional, processing new arrivals with efficiency you admire all the more for those tight uniforms the guards wear. It’s only when Alexa steps up to the kiosk that there’s a hold up. Naturally she’s chatting it up with the guard. The two look at you conspiratorially. Typical women. Gossiping.

And then it’s your turn. “Finally,” you say under your breath as you march up and present your paperwork. In spite of being annoyed at the guard you put on your best smile. Charm has always gotten you far in life, especially with the ladies.

Like the other guards dotted around the space port, this woman wore a ruminate jacket in the style of a military uniform. A black cap with the symbol of Helicon IV stamped on the brim completed the ensemble. In spite of the situation, you shamelessly give her elevator eyes.

She is not amused. “Sir, can I please get you to stand over there.” She says pointing to a small platform on the other side of the kiosk. You’re taken aback. So far, no one has been asked to stand on that platform. You didn’t even know it was there.

“I really don’t think-” Your eyes meet hers and you realize that it might just be better for you to obey. “Of course.” Adjusting your tie nervously, you step on the platform. Immediately bars shoot up from the floor, trapping you. “What is the meaning of this!” You immediately shout.

“Routine inspection sir.” she says, picking up your luggage. With no more explanation, she opens it and begins rummaging through it. Each item has a hand scanner of unknown provenience waved over it.

“It is obviously not!” You shout, reaching into your pocket for your web-pad. But as you thumb the activation stud that will allow you to call for help, the screen remains blank. Disabled by the cage no doubt. Damned advanced technology. Reaching up to grab the bars, you try to reason with her “I say! I’m a representative of-AAAAAAAARGH!”

“Do not touch the bars sir,” she replies drolly as you recoil from the shock. Suddenly there is a low tone as she waves the wand over a pair of your pants. Narrowing her eyes, she fishes in your pockets and pulls out a bag of something blue and powdery. She takes out a sample and sniffs it, before looking towards you. “Trafficking of controlled substances is a crime we take very seriously here on Helicon IV sir.”

Your mouth hangs open. You don't know what to say. The obvious denials escape your mind, driven away by the impossibility of your situation. It’s not until she reaches over and presses a button, causing your cage to lower into the floor that you think to say something. “That’s not mine!” You shout, but it’s no use. The guard has already returned to her kiosk and is helping the next passenger.

Looking around for some help, you only see Alexa. She has a devious little smile on her lips as you sink into the ground, and holds up her hand, giving you a little wave. It’s the last thing you see as you sink beneath the floor into darkness.