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Planetoid
- Joined
- May 15, 2012
- Location
- Usually at home.
Pacific Heights High School, Friday, April 14, 2188. 7:33 PM
"Easy. In and out, quiet, and calm", Lieutenant Flynn said, as the ground effect vehicle settled with a light crunching scrape against the loading dock at the back of the Pacific Heights High School. Flynn glanced down the line of his assembled team, all men, his brown eyes fixing on one man in particular, "No fuck ups, Rodriquez", he said, with an edge to his voice, "We need our quota, or we'll be working Saturdays for the next two months to make up for it". Rodriquez was at the back of the transport, idly stroking the slavers baton in his hands, a dreamy, inscrutable look on his face, apparently oblivious to his superior officer's attention. A friendly nudge from the man seated next to him brought him out of his reverie, and with a guilty duck of his head, said, "Yeah, Lieutenant. I get you. No fuck ups".
The transport was painted white, with black lettering on the side advertising Tri-State Catering. "Parties-Events-Weddings", with three red, green, and blue cartoonish balloons painted above the black letters. It was identical to, though larger than the other two legitimate Tri-State Catering vehicles at the high school. Simply devised cover to get the actual slavers undetected onto the high school grounds. This operation was a departure from their normal stop and snatch mall, and park sweeps. Their quota had been increased from 130 'takes' per month, to 160, and the four or five daily harvests that were sufficient to meet their smaller quota would no longer be enough. Flynn didn't know how they would meet that increased quota month after month, denied as they were the much simpler lottery system other countries used, but if they failed, each and every one of them risked losing their own immunity. That did at least keep the team motivated, Flynn quietly reflected, though Rodriquez was perhaps a little too motivated, and had blown a simple harvest at a strip mall a week earlier, barely thirty miles from the high school, by enthusiastically beating, and raping a newly harvested pet, in view of the mall's frightened patrons.
That little operation had resulted in a near riot, and his team had escaped with just the one girl...a mistake Flynn was determined not to repeat...especially at the untapped high school that promised as many as fifty new girls toward their quota. Rodriquez would be kept on a short leash, until the transport lifted with it's cargo of young female flesh. After that, as long as he didn't seriously bruise, or cut, the girls, Rodriquez would be free to do whatever he wanted. They would by then, be nothing more than animals in the eyes of the law, without rights, to be legally bought, sold, and abused in any way their captors desired.
Flynn's ear bud gave a soft beep, and the first sub vocal transmission from Beverly informed him there were 38 class III girls at the dance, and that they'd begun their fake ID, and drug sweep. Names and ages started whispering through his mind...Tiffany, 15. Andrea 17. Felicity 16. Melody 16. Tory 17. As each girl was scanned, and identified, those class three, or under were quietly shunted away from their classmates, and notifications, mandated by law, were being forwarded to their families:
Greetings,
Your daughter, Melody Thomas, Age 16, waivered class III, has been taken by the United States Department of Population Control. Upon transmission of this message, Melody Thomas has been stripped of all rights as a citizen of the United States, all debts are hereby discharged, and in the eyes of the laws of the United States, is considered deceased. In recognition of this personal sacrifice on the part of her immediate family, the United States Government is pleased to convey upon those parties listed in Appendix A, subsections III through XII, an additional two waivers, (permanent), and limited immunity for a duration not to exceed 18 months.
Signed, Effron Alberts, Director, United States Department of Population Control
Even before the young women were aware of what was happening, their families were already receiving those messages. Before their first contact with anyone from Flynn's team, official registered slavers, their personal records were expunged, their identities stripped from them, and within milliseconds, no longer even existed. Beverly's team, as usual, conducted their part in the harvest with professionalism, politely, and competently shunting students along, some into larger rooms, to hold them for a few minutes, before releasing them, others, like Melody, into different rooms, where men, armed with slaver's batons waited.
Before the first girl, Tiffany 15, passed into that room, the band had already been convinced to resume playing, and gradually, students who were safe, and still wholly ignorant of what was happening, began drifting back toward the dance floor. Tiffany, like so many other girls, walked into the indicated room, and was met by an armed man, who stated in a neutral voice, "Taken", before being struck against whichever parts of their bodies were most convenient with a slaver's baton. The batons were set to stun the girls, and as they were struck, they collapsed insensate to the floor, where other men quickly grabbed them, and dragged them back to the loading dock, and into the transport.
The steady drone of girl's names, and ages suddenly ceased, as Beverly's voice took their place, "Here they come! Get out of there, Flynn!". Flynn did not need to be told twice, and as sure as Beverly was evacuating her team, as frightened, and concerned parents descended on the school's campus, he called his team in, "We've got twenty six, time to bug out, guys". As he transmitted that message over the sub-voc net, the door into the room they staged in opened for a last time, admitting a pretty young blond girl, dressed in a short skirt, and off white blouse. "Taken", he shouted, swinging his baton at her, and connecting with her left thigh. "Twenty seven", he added to the sub-voc, while reaching down and grabbing the stunned girl's ankle.
"Melody Thomas, 16", his earbud informed him, as he dragged the girl through the loading bay, and into his transport. "Button it up, let's get out of here", Flynn shouted, while passing the stunned girl to Rodriguez, who had the usual post mission predatory, hungry gleam in his eye. They'd done it, and had taken more girls than Flynn could have hoped for, 27, which put his team back on track to meeting their expanded quota. "Good job, everyone", he called out on their private net, "Let's get these girls stripped, and ready for the processing plant"
Rodriguez lifted the stunned Melody over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, casually slapping her pantied ass with his free hand, "Yes sir!".
"Easy. In and out, quiet, and calm", Lieutenant Flynn said, as the ground effect vehicle settled with a light crunching scrape against the loading dock at the back of the Pacific Heights High School. Flynn glanced down the line of his assembled team, all men, his brown eyes fixing on one man in particular, "No fuck ups, Rodriquez", he said, with an edge to his voice, "We need our quota, or we'll be working Saturdays for the next two months to make up for it". Rodriquez was at the back of the transport, idly stroking the slavers baton in his hands, a dreamy, inscrutable look on his face, apparently oblivious to his superior officer's attention. A friendly nudge from the man seated next to him brought him out of his reverie, and with a guilty duck of his head, said, "Yeah, Lieutenant. I get you. No fuck ups".
The transport was painted white, with black lettering on the side advertising Tri-State Catering. "Parties-Events-Weddings", with three red, green, and blue cartoonish balloons painted above the black letters. It was identical to, though larger than the other two legitimate Tri-State Catering vehicles at the high school. Simply devised cover to get the actual slavers undetected onto the high school grounds. This operation was a departure from their normal stop and snatch mall, and park sweeps. Their quota had been increased from 130 'takes' per month, to 160, and the four or five daily harvests that were sufficient to meet their smaller quota would no longer be enough. Flynn didn't know how they would meet that increased quota month after month, denied as they were the much simpler lottery system other countries used, but if they failed, each and every one of them risked losing their own immunity. That did at least keep the team motivated, Flynn quietly reflected, though Rodriquez was perhaps a little too motivated, and had blown a simple harvest at a strip mall a week earlier, barely thirty miles from the high school, by enthusiastically beating, and raping a newly harvested pet, in view of the mall's frightened patrons.
That little operation had resulted in a near riot, and his team had escaped with just the one girl...a mistake Flynn was determined not to repeat...especially at the untapped high school that promised as many as fifty new girls toward their quota. Rodriquez would be kept on a short leash, until the transport lifted with it's cargo of young female flesh. After that, as long as he didn't seriously bruise, or cut, the girls, Rodriquez would be free to do whatever he wanted. They would by then, be nothing more than animals in the eyes of the law, without rights, to be legally bought, sold, and abused in any way their captors desired.
Flynn's ear bud gave a soft beep, and the first sub vocal transmission from Beverly informed him there were 38 class III girls at the dance, and that they'd begun their fake ID, and drug sweep. Names and ages started whispering through his mind...Tiffany, 15. Andrea 17. Felicity 16. Melody 16. Tory 17. As each girl was scanned, and identified, those class three, or under were quietly shunted away from their classmates, and notifications, mandated by law, were being forwarded to their families:
Greetings,
Your daughter, Melody Thomas, Age 16, waivered class III, has been taken by the United States Department of Population Control. Upon transmission of this message, Melody Thomas has been stripped of all rights as a citizen of the United States, all debts are hereby discharged, and in the eyes of the laws of the United States, is considered deceased. In recognition of this personal sacrifice on the part of her immediate family, the United States Government is pleased to convey upon those parties listed in Appendix A, subsections III through XII, an additional two waivers, (permanent), and limited immunity for a duration not to exceed 18 months.
Signed, Effron Alberts, Director, United States Department of Population Control
Even before the young women were aware of what was happening, their families were already receiving those messages. Before their first contact with anyone from Flynn's team, official registered slavers, their personal records were expunged, their identities stripped from them, and within milliseconds, no longer even existed. Beverly's team, as usual, conducted their part in the harvest with professionalism, politely, and competently shunting students along, some into larger rooms, to hold them for a few minutes, before releasing them, others, like Melody, into different rooms, where men, armed with slaver's batons waited.
Before the first girl, Tiffany 15, passed into that room, the band had already been convinced to resume playing, and gradually, students who were safe, and still wholly ignorant of what was happening, began drifting back toward the dance floor. Tiffany, like so many other girls, walked into the indicated room, and was met by an armed man, who stated in a neutral voice, "Taken", before being struck against whichever parts of their bodies were most convenient with a slaver's baton. The batons were set to stun the girls, and as they were struck, they collapsed insensate to the floor, where other men quickly grabbed them, and dragged them back to the loading dock, and into the transport.
The steady drone of girl's names, and ages suddenly ceased, as Beverly's voice took their place, "Here they come! Get out of there, Flynn!". Flynn did not need to be told twice, and as sure as Beverly was evacuating her team, as frightened, and concerned parents descended on the school's campus, he called his team in, "We've got twenty six, time to bug out, guys". As he transmitted that message over the sub-voc net, the door into the room they staged in opened for a last time, admitting a pretty young blond girl, dressed in a short skirt, and off white blouse. "Taken", he shouted, swinging his baton at her, and connecting with her left thigh. "Twenty seven", he added to the sub-voc, while reaching down and grabbing the stunned girl's ankle.
"Melody Thomas, 16", his earbud informed him, as he dragged the girl through the loading bay, and into his transport. "Button it up, let's get out of here", Flynn shouted, while passing the stunned girl to Rodriguez, who had the usual post mission predatory, hungry gleam in his eye. They'd done it, and had taken more girls than Flynn could have hoped for, 27, which put his team back on track to meeting their expanded quota. "Good job, everyone", he called out on their private net, "Let's get these girls stripped, and ready for the processing plant"
Rodriguez lifted the stunned Melody over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, casually slapping her pantied ass with his free hand, "Yes sir!".