Human Commodity

by Candace Smith

  She jerked back and yelped when Damon grabbed for her hand. It took her a moment to get up the nerve to let the man latch cuffs around her wrists and ankles, and as he moved her long hair to put the collar around her neck, she said softly, “Not too tight, okay? I don’t really like things around my neck.”

  “You’ll get used to it.” He walked back to the door. “Come.”

  Daria’s legs alternated from feeling like rubbery appendages to stiff boards that wanted to lock up on her. Damon noticed that the girl was finally beginning to tremble, and he was relieved. He had been wondering if she was intelligent enough to be afraid.

  They entered a small cement room about the size of a large closet, and Damon rested back against the closed door. He watched a red light over the sealed entry across from them, and Daria backed up to lean against the wall next to him to keep from falling. After several minutes the light turned green, and Damon pushed away from the door as the sealed entry slid open. “Come.”

  Daria followed him into a clinic room where a middle-aged man in a white lab coat was putting things onto a counter. His back was to them, and he said, “This IQ80?”

  Damon replied, “We’re still adjusting the number, Eddie. Last I decided was about 30.” Daria filed the curious information away to consider later.

  Eddie turned, expecting to look into the slack jawed blank stare of an idiot. The firm had been conned out of money that way before. Ironically, SHCI had set up a facility for the unwanted girls that were not capable of being trained. It was used as a tax deduction, and they recouped some of the expense when their mothers were located and sold.

  Instead, Eddie found himself looking at a rather pretty young woman of average height, who had waist-length shining brown hair and natural copper highlights. She had remarkable green eyes… not hazel… they were as green as a cat’s. She wore no makeup, and the sensible flowery shift and brown flats were either a shame to be clothing such a lovely girl or a true indication that she had absolutely no idea how unique she was. The loose dress had no lines and gave no indication of her figure. The previous contracts were dressed just as blandly, and Eddie wondered if it was some sort of religious requirement.

  Eddie watched the girl as her eyes scanned the clinic. She was the type of girl that a man would easily pass over as ordinary, until a second glance. There was something about her… “You passing her?”

  “I intended to, at first. But I think I’m going to work with her myself for a while. I’ll pass her if it becomes too frustrating,” Damon replied. Eddie could see that Damon sensed something about her as well.

  “Strip and get up onto the table,” the doctor ordered.

  Daria’s eyes flew to him. “What?”

  “Strip, and get up here.” Eddie patted the metal table.

  “Aren’t you going to give me a gown, or something? Doc has soft cotton ones with flowers, but paper would be all right.” Oh god, Mom. I can’t do this. Why didn’t you tell me? Daria felt her panic surface, and there was no way she could possibly follow the order. Two be naked… alone with two bastards…

  “Get your fucking clothes off, slut,” Damon bellowed. “Is that plain enough?” Daria began crying, and she backed towards the sealed doorway.

  “Her friends were odd, too,” Eddie remarked. “It’s like they had no idea what the hell was expected of them. One of them began to spout shit about POHO, and we finally had to gag her.”

  Damon snagged her arm and pulled her so that she was facing him. “Get that fucking dress off, now.”

  “B..b..but…”

  “Now,” he roared. His eyes had turned so black that Daria could not tell where the irises and pupils in them separated. The bronzed muscled chest was expanding in deep angry breaths, and Daria was terrified.

  Her shaking fingers reached for the top button, and her mind took a hysterical twist of wanting to ask him if she was still going to get a green outfit or if he would at least turn around while she undressed. Her fingers slipped on the buttons until she finally opened the one at her waist. At some point, tears began to slide down her cheeks. Daria did not even realize she was hitching frightened sobs as her dress pooled down by her shoes.

  She scooped it up and held it in front of her sensible new restrictive white bra and panties. This was the first time she had been naked in front of a man. She shrieked one quick outburst when Damon grabbed the dress from her and tossed it into the corner. His long dark ponytail had fallen over his shoulder, and her eyes fixed on it as it rose up and down on his chest with his deep breaths.

  She was frozen, and Damon put his big hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. She was staring at his hair, and other than occasional wracked cries, she was silent. Her pupils were dilating and retreating, and he turned to the doctor. “Eddie?” Shit. Damon had never seen one shut down so fast.

  Eddie waved a hand, and Damon backed the young woman towards the table. Her gaze never faltered from his hair, and although her legs were stiff, she did not protest… expect for the occasional shivering sobs. He had to put his hands around her waist to lift her on top of the table, and she never acknowledged the shot Eddie injected into her arm. The green stare began to waver, and Damon supported her back as he laid her onto the table just as she closed her eyes to unconsciousness.

  “Do you think she’s too stupid to deal with this? Shit, I’d hate to lose her to the facility,” Damon remarked. Even in sleep, there was something about the girl.

  “I would think the slight handicap would make her more willing and susceptible to pleasing,” Eddie answered. He was searching his mind for answers when the back door to the clinic opened and Phillip walked in with a smile.

  It left his face as he saw the girl lying unconscious on the examination table. “What happened? I pushed off a lunch date to watch the unveiling.”

  Eddie looked at him. “You feel it too, don’t you? There’s something different about this one.”

  Phillip ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what I feel. I keep seeing her eyes while she looked around the office.” He looked up at Eddie. “Yeah, Eddie, I feel it too. Hell, I was halfway through the passage when I found myself trying to figure out if I should buy her myself. I was trying to figure out a way to work it with Clarett.”

  “We agreed…”

  “I know. I know, Eddie. We can’t do that with our own contracts.” Phillip reached out to wipe a tear off of Daria’s cheek. “So, what happened?”

  “She was about ten seconds away from never-never land,” Damon answered. “I’ve never seen one retreat so quickly. And I don’t think it was a ‘see ya for a little while’ thing, either. She was in total meltdown.” Damon looked up at Eddie. “Shit, she only got as far as taking her dress off. What the hell’s going to happen if we throw her into training?”

  Phillip continued to wipe her tears, while Eddie sat down to think. He finally looked up at Damon. “If you weren’t restricted by level training… if you could work her any way that you wanted… do you think you could do it?”

  Damon stared at Phillip’s hand while he caressed the girl’s face, and he found himself distracted from thinking about Eddie’s question… by a building feeling of anger and jealousy towards the lawyer. What the fuck? Damon stepped back as if he had been burned. The girl was dangerous… there was also no way he was going to let anybody else touch her. “Yeah, but I won’t be able to work her in the compound until I can get this under control.” He nodded to the unconscious girl, indicating her current condition.

  Phillip’s eyes shot up. “What the hell are you suggesting, Damon? You know that we don’t let anyone beneath level ten into the quarters.”

  Damon crossed his massive arms across his broad chest. “Then what do you suggest, Phillip? If you think you’re going to get this girl through level one, then you might as well pack her up right now and ship her out.”

  Phillip turned to Eddie for support. Hell, he had been the one to insist on the level training as a determining f
actor in commodity sale’s price. Eddie shook his head. “He’s right, Phillip. You didn’t see her. I’ve had virgins come through here that never came close to reacting the way this girl did. I’d have to clear it through Mason, of course, but she’s going to be a total wash if we don’t try it.”

  Phillip looked back down to the sleeping girl. A wash… was unacceptable. “Call him.”

  As usual, Mason had been busy with a commodity crisis. He quickly agreed with Eddie. What the fuck do I care what they do with a lousy AG? I’ve got an outbreak of chicken pox… chicken pox for fuck’s sake… running through the SPs and trainers in the compound in Spain. The deceitful little bumps can leave scars on the women… and cost SHCI millions. “No, I don’t want to see her first. If Damon thinks he can save us some money on her, let him take her.”

  Eddie slowly unwrapped the rest of the strange girl. She was completely unshaven… like her friends… and he mentioned the fact to Damon and Phillip who were standing by the table with jealous fascination. “Damon, go get the redhead that you handed to Rodrigo.”

  “What’s up?” Damon asked.

  “I think the shit that she was spouting about POHO might have something to it. When was the last time you saw a girl who didn’t bother shaving under her arms, much less her legs? I think only someone raised in a feminist stronghold would neglect to do that. Those wacko’s with POHO wouldn’t even think of it, if these three are plants.”

  Damon strode through the doors. He came back with the redhead slung over his shoulder. She was screaming hoarsely behind the gag, and there were red welts from a recent whipping across her ass and thighs. The trainer unceremoniously dumped her onto her feet as Rodrigo burst through the door behind him. “What the fuck, Damon? I thought you gave her to me.”

  “Settle down, for fuck’s sake. You’re getting her back. The Doc and Phillip want to ask her a few questions,” Damon replied.

  The US18RB made a frantic dash towards the door, still screaming behind the gag. Rodrigo snaked an arm out and caught her, and held her by the back of her collar. “You ready?”

  Eddie scrunched his eyes closed, preparing for her screams. “Go ahead.” God, even hoarse, her voice cut through his head like a razor.

  Rodrigo tightened her collar until the screams were strangled. “Quiet and I let go. Nod.” It took a few seconds for his words to cut through her panic, but she quickly nodded.

  As soon as his hold loosened, she wailed, “You hit me! Please… they didn’t tell us it was going to be like this.” Lizzie’s eyes widened when she saw Daria. “Oh god. You didn’t have to kill her. She never even believed any of it.” She looked up at her trainer and began quivering in terrified, jerking wracks. “Please, please don’t kill me. I’ll do what you want. Oh god, Daria. It wasn’t her fault. We never knew what bastards were like.”

  Eddie was registering confusing information the girl was sputtering about Daria. As trainers, Rodrigo and Damon registered the girl’s acquiescence to be trained… as long as she would not be ‘killed’ like her friend.

  Rodrigo glared down at her. “You realize how serious this is?”

  “Yes,” she cried. “Oh, god. Please don’t kill me too.”

  Phillip asked, “Who sent you here?”

  “The OTRs. Ummm… I mean mom.”

  “OTRs?” Fuck, is there another renegade dissention organization out there? Phillip persisted. “Who are the OTRs?”

  “No, I meant our mothers. Our mothers sent us.”

  Rodrigo lifted her collar until it tightened. “Bullshit. Who the fuck are the OTRs?” he demanded.

  Lizzie was completely overwrought. She sobbed and cried, “Our mothers. We called them that so they wouldn’t know we thought they were ‘off their rockers’. We’ve called them that for years.”

  The girl was too rattled to have made it up, and Phillip was the first to begin to laugh. “So, who do these OTRs belong to?”

  “I already told him.” Lizzie pointed a shaking finger towards Eddie. “They’re the leaders of POHO.” Her tear-filled eyes turned back to Phillip. “If you let us go, we won’t give them any information to sue you over.”

  Phillip looked at her incredulously, but he figured out that she was being completely serious. What kind of world has she been living in if she thinks that POHO is a threat to us any more? “Where did you live?” he asked curiously. “You and your friends?”

  “At POHO’s headquarters. Daria helped Annie and I sneak out, but we stayed by the garden gate. Mostly we just wanted to see what was going on in the evil world of human slavery… and maybe see a couple of young bastards. We got scared and hung around the side garden.” The girl was still looking at Daria. Did she breathe? I think I saw her chest move. “Oh my god, she’s still alive.” She looked up at Eddie. “Save her,” she begged.

  “Not until you answer our questions,” Eddie replied smoothly. “What are you and your friends doing here?”

  “They told us to get information on names and stuff. They’re going to come get us after we were sold with our lots. They’re going to give us a year after we’re placed. It kinda’ got messed up, because we had to wait for Annie to turn eighteen.”

  “Rodrigo, you can take her back now,” Eddie said. He picked up an extra big needle and stroked it. “Let me know if she gives you any more problems.” He smiled when the terrified girl gasped.

  The trainer winked at him. “Will do.”

  “What about Daria? You’re going to save her now, right? I told you everything. You will save her, right?”

  “Probably,” Eddie calmly replied. The girl had begun to sob again, while the trainer led her back to the cells.

  Eddie stared at Phillip. “Don’t look at me. I’m not going to call him. He’s got a fuckin’ Spanish chicken pox crisis to deal with.”

  “Okay, we get with Mason after five. Look, I think we need to ship those two out to the facility. We can maybe have them de-compressed from POHO’s crap and bring them up to speed on what’s going on in the world. Did you catch her reference to ‘bastards’? She wasn’t using the term like an insult; she used it as if it was a common description of men. In the world they were raised, maybe it was. I still see value in them, but we should get them out of here in case they do manage to get information to pass back.”

  Eddie looked down at Daria. “With this one’s mental impairment, I don’t see her as a threat. Obviously they weren’t planning on using her to bring back useful information, and I think maybe they sent her along to distract us. They probably didn’t realize that the girls would be separated,” Eddie said.

  What the fanatics with POHO did not realize was that they never told their daughters not to tell anyone about their mission. The women had been so obsessed with their decades long fight, and they had so little involvement with their daughters, they merely assumed the girls knew that their infiltration was to be kept secret. With almost their entire world… and virtually everyone they had ever met… being involved with POHO, the three girls assumed that the rest of the world was aware of what they were doing at SHCI. After all, how could you be the heroes against the evils of human slavery if people did not know?

  Chapter V

  Daria woke up slowly, with groggy, fuzzy recognition of the clinic. The metal table was warm underneath her, so she knew that she had to have been lying on it for a while. When she tried to raise her arm to wipe the sleep out of her eyes, it was stuck. No, not stuck… I’m hooked onto something. She realized that both wrists were locked down, and she experimented and found that her ankles were secured as well. A lethargic numbness kept her from becoming overwhelmed, though she felt a detached nervousness.

  “She’s waking up,” a deep voice commented.

  Daria swooped her head towards the voice, and she saw the big bastard Damon, the Doctor, and Phillip. “Hi, Phillip,” she slurred. Everything felt like slow motion.

  “Hello, Daria. Are you feeling a little better?”

  Daria’s thoughts were muddled and
confused, though to the men, the girl did not appear any more addled than when she was fully awake. Daria had never taken a drink or a drug in her life, and the mild tranquilizer had hit her like a ton of bricks. It remained in her system keeping her bewildered and confused while her body tried to absorb or get rid of it.

  Daria remembered being told to take her clothes off… rudely, she remembered, and she tried to scowl at Damon… but after that, everything was a blank. Clothes off? Daria realized that she was feeling the warm metal table under her bare bottom. She blushed profusely and slurred, “I’m a little cold. Could I have a blanket?”

  “Not right now,” Phillip replied. He remembered how easily distracted the girl was, and he said, “We had a chat with one of your friends. She says you were sent here by POHO to get information on SHCI.”

  Daria gave a lopsided smile, and said, “I’m not sure if we’re supposed to tell anybody. The OTRs might get pissed off.”

  “The OTRs?”

  “Oops. I shouldn’t have said that.” Daria closed her eyes, but she opened them again when things began to spin.”

  Phillip was fairly certain that the redhead was not lying, but he wanted to make sure. It made no sense for the girls to be raised in POHO society yet think that their mothers were crazy. “Who are the OTRs, Daria?”

  “I can’t really say,” she yawned.

  “Daria?”

  She smiled at Phillip again. “Really… I can’t say. It was a mean name we called our mothers, and it wasn’t very nice of us.”

  “Over their rockers?” he led.

  “Off,” Daria corrected. “Off their rockers.” She smiled and said, “They’re nuts.”

  Damon whispered, “Acorn doesn’t fall far from the…”

  “Ssh,” Phillip whispered.

  Although still more calmed than she should be, Daria’s mental facilities sharpened slightly. She realized that they must have done something to her mind, and that from descriptions she had read, she thought she might have been drugged. Whatever they had done had made it almost impossible for her to focus. Oh, oh. I wonder what the other girls told them? God, I’m naked… completely naked… in front of three bastards. Still, she could not summon up the terrified feelings she should be exhibiting. “Phillip, could I have a blanket now, please?”