Processing the new batch of slaves

"So, where are these cattle from? How did my uncle acquire them?" Max asked Jamal as they climbed into the back of the truck. He knew that his internship would mostly be in the processing department but he had a fascination with the acquisitions business as well. Plus, learning everything about all sides of the business can only be good for his career.

"You won't believe this, but these were all acquired in one operation. Apparently they used to be a basketball team or something," Jamal answered as he opened one of the **** sacks and pulled out the merchandise. She was a tall and toned woman, definitely over six feet. She was white, with short brown hair and blue eyes. Being athletic her breasts were only a small C cup, but her long legs and thick thighs easily made up for her bust. She was gagged with a large ball gag, with her arms tied tightly behind her in a leather armbinder. She looked around, her eyes wide in terror, her fate slowly dawning on her. "Dawn Johnson, team captain," Jamal read from the notecard pinned to the sack. "Don't get too used to that name, Dawn. We'll be giving you a better name soon enough." He laughed as he slapped her ass and pulled her off the truck. "Apparently this team made it to the semi-finals of this year's playoffs but got blown out. The team owner wasn't very happy and decided to sell the team. And in the players' case he meant literally sell them." Dawn grunted in protest as Jamal looped a rope through a ring on the bottom of the armbinder. "Oh, have a problem with that, Captain? Guess you should have played better," Jamal taunted her as he looped the rope through a ring in the ceiling and pulled it tight, forcing Dawn to bend over. This ensured that Dawn wasn't going anywhere...and that everyone could get a good view of her cunt.

Max grabbed another **** sack and started to unload it. "Wait, but how? I thought we can't enslave women inside the city? How did he manage to capture all of them?"

Jamal jumped back into the truck and started to help Max unpack his soon-to-be ****. "Well see, the team owner was very smart, and these broads were very stupid. He hosted a team picnic out at a local campground; told them it was a reward for even making it to the playoffs." The woman they were manhandling grunted into her gag in protest. She was a surprisingly short latina, barely even 5'4, with frizzy brown hair, curvy with a big butt and bigger breasts. "Well you are stupid girl, else you wouldn't be here," Jamal said as he smacked her rear hard. Max was wondering why such a short woman was grouped in with all these basketball players. He must of looked confused because Jamal chuckled and said "She's the coach. Well...was the coach."

Jamal continued the story as Max restrained the coach the same way Jamal restrained Dawn. "It was actually quite the event, from what I heard. You might be thinking 'why outdoors'? Too wide, too many places for the slaves to escape to, right? Well, the guy invited all of the other team owners to the picnic...and it turned into a big **** hunt." He laughed as he spanked the coach's rear hard, over and over. The poor woman kicked her legs up in protest, trying to get away, but Jamal held her firmly in place. "They actually let the broads run for it, into the woods, then went after them with tranquilizer guns." Now Jamal was playing with the coach's pussy, rubbing her clit roughly, causing her to buckle in unwanted pleasure. "You would think that a group of such athletic girls would have done better, but apparently they rounded all of them up in less than half an hour."

Max laughed as he processed another ****, a tall, leggy black woman. "Wow, what a crazy story. Are all slaves that easy to capture?" Max asked as he grabbed the woman by her nipples, pulling hard to lead her off the truck and to the processing rack.

"Only the dumbest ones," Jamal answered. "Now less chitchat, lets get these bitches processed. A rich rancher is interested in expanding his operations and your uncle is hoping to sell these fine fillies to him."