Author's Note: This takes place in the same world as my first story, "The Foundation Slave", but focusing on a different aspect of it.

This story explores how The Foundation collects it's slaves through teams of highly trained personnel known as "collectors". A pair of collectors are on a job when their best laid plans get complicated.

Chapter 1

Gregory sipped his coffee and waited, patiently, for Connie to finish reading the target file. After a few minutes she closed the file and looked up. "This is good work everything seems to be here."

"Can you identify any potential problems?" He said, giving Connie a chance to spot them for herself. She had promise, but at only twenty years old she had a lot to learn about collection work.

Connie's eyes rolled just a touch at being tested, again, but did not protest any further. "Well, the target is Stacy, she is twenty-four, and a trained MMA fighter with a winning record. If we are not careful, she could be a problem. She has a roommate, Penny, who should be staying with her boyfriend this weekend. However, they fight a lot, and she sometimes returns home unexpectedly. That is another potential problem. Finally, according to records Stacy owns a firearm."

"Very good. We need to have a plan for neutralizing possible complications."

"What did you have in mind?"

"You will secure the house while I put a tracker on the roommate's car. After that, we must make first contact with the target via ambush or we could have some trouble."

"Maybe, but I'm sure we could take her in a straight fight if it came to it," Connie said.

"I'm serious, don't underestimate this one. I have been doing this a lot longer than you."

"I know, I know."

Gregory gave a half smile, regarding the much younger and, very pretty girl, fresh out of The Foundation training program and assigned to apprentice under him. She was very good at all the theory and book learning parts of the job. But like many young people was eager to get to the action and often missed the details of the job. The details were everything in this line of work, but she would have to learn.

"I guess they can't all be as easy as that last one we picked up," she said, taking a bite of her burger.

"No, they seldom are. The girl we have in the van was young and didn't do much to protect herself. She's paying for that now though," he said, with a chuckle.

"I know, when I asked her to help me jump start my car she just agreed happily, dummy, seriously."

"I guess you just have a trusting face."

"What do you think The Foundation will do with that one?"

"She's very young, just turned eighteen recently. Girls that young are almost always turned into Object slaves. Young healthy bodies are always best for that work."

"Poor bitch. I do hope this next one posses a bit more of a challenge though. I didn't train so hard for them all to be as easy as she was."

"Given this woman's background I am sure she will pose a unique challenge."


Chapter 2

They ate lunch and returned to the van. It was a nondescript utility vehicle, large enough to stand upright in the trailer. "You should check on our guest. Her saline bag and piss pouch probably need changing by now," Gregory said, as he climbed into the drivers seat.

Connie jumped, eagerly, into the back and locked the doors behind her. She enjoyed this part almost as much as the initial capture. Those first few hours when the victim still had hope they might escape or be rescued. Connie knew, by this point, the abducted had no chance of escape. It was that knowledge that gave her the thrill she enjoyed so much. The power she had over another human was intoxicating to her and what drew her to this work.

Connie slid out one of the body-sized, metal, boxes. The boxes resembled tool containers and were just large enough to hold a woman in a prone position. A casual observer would see the six boxes, three on each side, as common for any utility Van. She undid the padlock and opened the lid to the box. Inside, was the beautiful, naked, eighteen-year-old girl they collected last night.

For now, the girls name was Marissa, once The Foundation gets a hold of her she will be issued a slave name. The girl was right where they left her about twenty hours earlier. She lay on her back; straps crossed her body from head to toe cinching her in tight. Her arms folded into a box tie under her back which put painful pressure on her shoulders and elbows. The position forced the girls back to arch, causing her firm breasts to jut upward, and Connie's crotch tingled at the sight of them. Marissa's mouth was stuffed with cloth and another strap pulled tightly over muffled her cries.

By now, Marissa's face was soaked in tears and the rest of her body slick with sweat from the suffocating heat inside the boxes. The heat is why they hooked the prisoners up with IV fluids to keep them hydrated, this prevented any unfortunate loss of life, after all, they were in the collection business not the murder business.

As soon as the box opened Marissa began pulling at her straps. The girls muffled whimpers aroused Connie further. She wished she could bury the girls face between her legs and force her to eat her out, right then and there, but she bit the inside of her cheek and pushed the urge away. Not now, she had to stay focused. Gregory was right, the saline bag was empty and the catheter bag was full with piss. She changed them both, while ignoring the girl's complaints the best she could. Although, Marissa's helpless sobs continued to make her wet.

Once finished, Connie regarded the young girl. Marissa stared up at her with terrified, amber eyes, glassy, and red from tears. "Don't worry, honey, you won't be alone much longer we will be bringing you a friend soon. I mean, she won't be in a position to help you or anything. Misery does love company though. You try to get some sleep; you're going to have a very hard rest of your life." Connie shut the lid to the box cutting off the cries emitted by the miserable prisoner. The box was sound-proof, the girl was welcome to make all the noise she wanted.


Chapter 3

Gregory read through the research he and Connie had done on the next target. She had a gun license but didn't carry it outside the house. She likely kept it locked up somewhere. We would have to find that before making contact. It shouldn't be a problem, they already had the house key made and they would get inside an hour before the target arrives home.

Weeks of preparation went into each target collection and the process was a science by now. Things still went wrong, sometimes, usually due to human error and inexperience. He certainly made a few mistakes in his early days.

Connie dozed quietly beside him, her feet crossed and resting on the passenger dash. He let her sleep; it was going to be a long night for both of them. She was pretty, blonde, petite, nice tits, if she wasn't employed by The Foundation, he might have been collecting her for them instead. She was certainly Foundation quality merchandise. As a collector, she was competent, and passed training top of her class she just needed to gain some valuable experience. In a few years she might be one of the top collectors.

He glanced at his watch, 4 PM, it was time to get moving Stacy usually got home around five-thirty or six. He started the Van, letting the hum of the engine rouse Connie. "It's time?" she asked, through a deep yawn.

"Yeah, I'm going to drop you near the house. I want you to prepare the property while I go to the roommate's car. I'll be back in time for us to take our positions inside."

"Maybe we should just take the roommate also."

"No, we haven't done the research on that one. It's best to stick to the plan."

"Alright, it was just a thought."

"Just get the house ready."


Chapter 4

Connie walked, casually, around the targets house a duffel bag of important supplies hung across her chest. She wasn't worried about the neighbors seeing her, most should still be at work. Besides, it was no coincidence that Gregory always made her do this part, a little white girl snooping around didn't draw as much attention.

She went around to every bottom floor window and jammed a rubber wedge between the panes so they could not be opened from the inside. Finally, she came to a storm door that led to a basement beneath the house. Removing a padlock from her bag she affixed it to the door. All this prep insured they would control the only way in and out.

Once Gregory returned, they used the key they made of the front door and entered the house. They searched the house thoroughly, and found the gun which they removed. The Foundation did not allow collectors to use guns out of fear too many targets will arrive with bullet wounds. All collectors were trained in hand-to-hand combat and armed with stun devices instead. That was usually enough to get the job done.

Once everything was set, including a tiny camera that looked out on the front door and driveway she and Gregory each chose a closet and closed themselves inside to wait.

They watched the camera from their phones until they saw Stacy arrive, on schedule, eat a small dinner, and shower. Finally, Stacy sat on a sofa in the T.V. room and began surfing through the channels. She had removed the formal pants suit ensemble she arrived home wearing and now wore a pair of red flannel pajama bottoms. Her feet were bare, and she had on a simple white tee shirt. She was attractive, the research material had her at five foot eight, one hundred and forty pounds of well-defined muscle. Connie was almost eager to test her combat skills against this one.

After a while of impatient waiting Connie's phone lit up with a text from Gregory, "Go, now. Trap her between the couch and coffee table," the text said.

Connie suppressed a rush of adrenalin and slowly, silently, opened the closet door. She crossed the T.V. room, going around the left side of the couch her stun gun clutched like a vice between her fingers. Gregory did the same only going around the right side.

Stacy didn't notice them at first, but the moment she did, it only took a fraction of a second for her to react. Her speed surprised Connie, and recognizing she was the weak link, Stacy catapulted toward her. Connie panicked, fired the stun gun clumsily, and missed.

Suddenly, Connie was air borne rolling head first over Stacy's back as the larger woman flung her effortlessly. Connie fell onto the glass coffee table which shattered beneath her. She heard Gregory curse as he took off after Stacy who ran deeper into the house.

Connie sat up and moaned at the ache of her muscles. She picked a few small pieces of glass from her side but otherwise seemed fine. "Dammit! Are you alright?" Gregory asked, coming back into the room.

"Yeah, I'm fine. She was fast. Where is she?"

"She locked herself in the basement."

"Good, I locked the storm door she can't escape. And she isn't calling for help without this," she said, holding up Stacy's cell phone which had been on the coffee table.

"That's good, but we can't stay here until she comes out for food."

"Can we shoot the lock with her gun."

He shook his head, "We can't start firing off a gun the neighbors might call the police. Plus, a heavy metal door like that likely has more than one lock."

"Shit."

They stood in front of the basement door in silence for a full minute. "The roommate, she is our best option now."

"But you said-"

"I did, but now we have to improvise. Stay here, and guard the door, make sure she does not come out until I get back."

"You really think she will come out to save her roommate?"

"If she doesn't, we'll start sliding her roommates fingernails under the door until she does," he said, already heading for the front door.

Connie grinned in anticipation of the excitement to come, her inner sadist silently hoping Stacy would refuse to come out.


Chapter 5

For the next hour Connie sat impatiently in front of the basement. Occasionally, she pressed an ear to the door listening for any activity. It was a thick door and long stairs led down to the basement so it was unlikely she would hear anything but the loudest sounds. She was confident that Stacy could not get out except through the door she sat guarding.

Connie was still sore from the fall she took earlier but it was her pride that really suffered. She was the top of her class in The Foundation hand-to-hand training program how could this woman have brushed her aside so easily. She itched for a second chance at her and vowed to make the woman pay once they captured her.

Eventually, she had to use the bathroom and used a toilet down the hall. She dried her hands and thought she should text Gregory, see if he's on his way. No, he already thought she was an impetuous child it was better not to be impatient.

When Connie returned to the basement door, she froze, the door was now ajar and there was no sign of Stacy. "Fuck!" She ran to the open door looking down the dark stairs leading into the basement. No Stacy, of course. She whirled around to look at the front door, closed, but that didn't mean much. There was a feeling in her gut that told her to turn around. She barely made half a turn before she was struck by a freight train.

Connie's lungs deflated, in an instant, she was face down on the floor gasping. Stacy was on top of her the larger, heavier, woman pinning her to the floor. Connie thrashed her legs in a desperate attempt to knock Stacy off. But her arms were quickly captured and twisted behind her back. "Nice try bitch, but I'm not just some victim," Stacy said.

As Stacy began binding Connie with more, and more, duct tape, she knew she had screwed up royally this time.


Chapter 6

Gregory's foot twitched as he resisted the temptation to step on the gas. Time was of the essence, but he had to remember he still had a kidnapped girl in the back of his Van. He signed and glanced at the clock, it's alright, they had time to pull this off. This mess was due to Connie's over confidence. He tried to warn her, but often these lessons just need to be learned firsthand.

He pulled up to the boyfriend's house, parking across the street, but still within line of sight of the front door. He pulled out his laptop and hacked easily into their home network. The Foundation offered computer training as part of its standard courses for situations such as these. He couldn't hack government systems, or anything, but a private home network was no problem.

Once in, he accessed the camera and microphone of an open laptop. He couldn't see much, as the camera was pointed towards a plain white wall, but all he really needed was to hear what was being said. After about ten minutes of listening to the couple's inane banter he finally heard something he could use. Penny wanted Tom, the boyfriends name he learned, to take out the garbage. After a minute of playful arguing Tom agreed to take out the garbage after dinner. That would be his opportunity.

An idea forming in his head Gregory grabbed a roll of duct tape, a pad lock, threw them into his bag, and exited the Van. He snuck up the driveway to the garbage bins. A quick inspection of the bins and he saw what he was hoping to see. The bins had a loop so they could be pad locked shut. He grinned in the dark and slipped behind some hedges to wait for Tom to finish his dinner.

It wasn't long, before poor hapless Tom sauntered out to the bins. Just as Tom opened the lid, he came out of the bushes wrapped his arms around the man just below the waist and flipped him head first into the garbage. Before Tom could flip himself right side up again Gregory slammed down the lid and secured the pad lock.

"What the fuck. Get me the fuck out of here," Tom screamed, while pounding against the plastic lid. He couldn't have him making all that noise. As Tom put pressure on the lid it bent creating gaps along the sides. Gregory removed his spray sedative, usually intended for subduing women, but it would work on a grown man just as well. He aimed it into the widening cracks and sprayed a liberal amount into the bin. "You piece of shit. I'll fucking kill you. What is that?" Tom continued to protest.

It would take a minute for the sedative to take effect, so he quickly secured the lid with many strips of duct tape. By the time he was done with that Tom had gone quiet, still conscious, but rendered helpless for at least an hour. "Here is a thought to keep you company while you are in the trash. By the time you get out of there your girlfriend will be long gone. Her body the property of others and used for all manner of unspeakable debauchery. See ya, douche-bag." Tom couldn't respond and it was needlessly cruel of him but he was just having one of those nights.

Gregory crept to the window and peered inside. He didn't see Penny, anywhere, but he felt confident now that it was just the two of them. He went to the front door and opened it. Tom had left it unlocked, after all, he had expected to be right back.

He moved silently through the house and found Penny at the kitchen table bent over her phone engrossed in whatever she was doing. Her Auburn hair was tied in a loose bun, and she wore a form fitting short sleeved shirt with a pair of running shorts. The shorts revealed long, smooth legs, which led to bare feet each toenail meticulously painted a deep red.

He liked admiring his prey before he struck, it pumped his adrenalin, and the girls he targeted were always the most attractive specimens. He pulled a hood from his bag. This wasn't just any hood however, it was designed from hi-tech fabric and soaked in the same sedative he used on Tom.

He moved in behind the girl and just as she looked up, maybe sensing his presence, he slipped the hood over her head and pulled the neck cord. This caused the hood to tighten, like air sucked from a balloon.

He stepped back giving Penny some space as she leaped to her feet. Her mouth opened, trying to scream, instead she gave in to a fit of coughing as the sedative had a choking noxious smell to it.

Penny pulled at the hood, but it was like removing a rubber glove from a wet hand by pulling at the finger tips, all it did was stretch and tighten around her face. He watched in amusement as she stumbled around the kitchen, blinded by the hood, and her screams coming out in dry heaves and hacking coughs.

If given enough time she could pry the fabric away from her neck, but the sedative was not going to give her that time, she was already getting clumsy as she felt around the room for, he assumed, the door.

He had enough fun; it was time to get control of the situation. He threw the helpless girl to the floor face down and buried his knee into her back. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them behind her. She was a petite girl with a, tight, young body and wasn't hard to subdue. He waited patiently as her thrashing slowed, and weakened, the sedative worked on her major muscles. She would soon experience total paralysis.

Once Penny went limp, he gave her a hard slap on the ass. This elicited a faint gurgle from her throat about all she could manage in her flaccid state. "I wish we had time to play but I'm going to have to get right to the stripping and binding because you and I have places to be."


Chapter 7

Gregory slung the duffel bag over his shoulder, a muffled moo coming from the bound and naked Penny inside, and walked toward Stacy's house. The girl couldn't have weighed more than a buck ten, tops, but he wasn't as young as he once was. He only hoped Stacy cared enough about her friend to come out of hiding.

He opened the front door and entered the downstairs T.V. room and stopped dead in his tracks at what he saw. In the middle of the room sat Connie, stripped to her underwear, and wrapped in layers of duct tape to a rolling desk chair. Her arms were fused together from elbow to wrist. Tape covered her thighs, calves, and even the arches of her feet. Her mouth was packed with something, and sealed, with more tape that went around her head multiple times.

Standing behind Connie, was Stacy, holding a kitchen knife pressed to her neck. Connie raised her sagging head to look at him. Her eyes glistened with moistness, but to her credit, she was not crying. She was clearly fighting the urge to though.

He let the duffel bag drop hard to the floor forgetting about the bound girl inside. "You've got to be kidding me. You stupid fool of a girl," He said.

"Take a step closer and I slit her open ear to ear," Stacy said.

"Just calm yourself down. Let me show you something." He bent down slowly, unzipped the bag, and untied the rope that secured Penny's ankles to her wrists. He pulled the girl to her feet. She was naked, and bound, with rope at seven points from ankle to hip. Her elbows and wrists were cinched together tight, and anchored at the base of her spine. This caused her nice C cup tits to stick out tantalizingly. And any sounds from her mouth were muffled by a massive ball gag. "I think you know who this is."

"You son of a bitch let her go. I'll kill her I swear."

"You really are impressive. Anne is going to have her work cut out for her when she gets a hold of you."

Stacy stiffened, pressing the blade into Connie's neck just enough to make a point but not enough to cut yet.

"Go ahead, she's a fool for letting you overpower her anyway." He paused for a moment, and saw Connie's eyes widen and a slight whimper escape her tightly packed mouth, before adding, "But if you do kill her your roommate will die immediately afterwards."

Stacy's hand relaxed, slightly, "Who the fuck are you people and what do you want?"

"We want you, of course, you've been selected by our organization to serve."

"I'm not serving anyone," she shot back, a slight quiver in her voice betraying the certainty of her statement.

"The only way out of this house is through the front door and you have to get through me to reach it. So why don't you try for it. I'll even let you keep the knife." Stacy remained silent, appearing to consider his suggestion. "I wonder, after subduing my partner why didn't you just leave? You didn't call the police because I listened to the scanner on the way back. You waited for this showdown at great risk to yourself. Why?"

"Because this is my house and no one is going to scare me out of it."

Gregory suppressed a smile. He was hoping she would be prideful and foolish. She was a trained fighter but so was he. She had an attractive, athletic figure, and muscles hard as rocks but so did he. And he still out weighed her by at least fifty pounds. He could take her in a straight fight even if she has the knife. Once he dealt with her, then he could deal with Connie for allowing this to happen. "So what do you say? Take me down, save your friend, and call the police, it's your best option at this point."

"Fine, you want me to kick your ass I can do that," Stacy said, taking the bait. She moved away from Connie and came around to his side of the sofa. Gregory shoved Penny onto the couch out of the way and moved to intercept the attacking woman.

She slashed left and right with the knife Gregory dodged backward. He had to admit, she was fast, he would have to wait until she made a mistake. Stacy jabbed, and Gregory pivoted, but not fast enough, and the blade cut just above his hip. Stacy grinned, her confidence growing, she followed up her successful attack with another.

Only this time she over committed as she lunged for what she, must have hoped, would be a killing blow. He caught her arm and wrenched the blade from her hand it bounced across the floor out of both of their reaches. Stacy gave him a frustrated growl at being so easily disarmed. Gregory smirked, and was happy to let the knife fall out of reach because he was sure he did not need it. Stacy's reaction told him that she was not so sure.

Stacy moved in again, this time, hitting his inner calf with a low kick. He winced and stepped back, Stacy took that as an invitation and kicked again. This time he was ready and moved his leg to avoid it. This left her off balance, Gregory advanced, landing a solid blow to Stacy's jaw. To her credit, she immediately recovered and came back with a flurry of punches. Her fist hitting him just below the eye.

It hurt, but not as much as he let on. He fell back with a yelp. The ruse had the desired effect, Stacy got reckless, moving in for a knockout blow. He was ready for it, ducking under her right hook and countering with an uppercut. The blow cracked her teeth together and she drifted back, clumsily, for a split second he saw her eyes roll back and her knees buckle. She fought through it and remained on her feet. He was impressed, but not surprised, everything was at stake for her.

Gregory wasn't going to give her the chance to recover, however, and fired a sidekick into her abdomen. The blow sent the woman flying into the wall a good five feet behind her. Keeping the pressure on, he moved in close, and flipped her over his back with a judo throw.

She was on her back, now, and he took the mount position. She thrashed to reach his face, but her composure was failing, panic setting in. He could rain blows down on her until she submitted but he didn't want her too banged up for the Foundation assessors. Too much damage would lower their bonus pay. He pinned one of Stacy's arms under his knee and trapped the other against her chest. She was still dazed from the beating she had just taken and her energy was waning fast. She was a fighter, though, and bucked madly to throw him off. He needed to move quickly before she could improve her position.

He retrieved a small aerosol spray from his breast jacket pocket and sprayed the fluid into Stacy's nose and mouth. She wretched, and coughed, turning her head to avoid it but it was too late. It was the same, fast acting, sedative that incapacitated Penny. It had the same short-term effect and acted almost immediately. An hour was more than enough time to secure a victim beyond hope of escape.

Stacy bucked, under his weight, with renewed ferocity and desperation as she realized what was happening. He knew from experience; she was already feeling the effects of the drug. It was soon clear from her frantic but diminishing struggles that her fight was just about over. After thirty seconds her arms slackened and her kicks reduced to harmless twitching. She managed to say, "Please don't do th..." just before her vocal cords stopped working. The only thing she would do for the next hour is blink her eyes.

"Sorry Stacy, but you should have ran before I got back. Taking advantage of my inexperienced partner was your best chance but you let your pride squander that chance."

Stacy made gurgling noises and her lips tried to mouth words but they wouldn't function. She grunted, her frustration showing in her pleading eyes.

"For what it's worth you did better than most."

Gregory noticed, poor Penny, who was admirably trying to hop her way toward the front door. She had fallen, halfway, and was now flopping around like a fish out of water trying to get back to her feet. Her sedative had worn off a short time ago but he knew his rope work well and she wasn't going anywhere.

He lifted her partway by her elbow rope, "Everything's coming up snake eyes for you today isn't it? You weren't even our target tonight but now that we have you we can't let you go." Penny moaned in protest at this conclusion and he laughed at her. He applied the aerosol to her, as well, and left her on the floor able to do nothing except follow him with her eyes.

He returned to the prone body of Stacy and heard Connie making mewing sounds to get his attention. "You're going to wait there until I secure the prisoners and then we're going to have a chat." She put her head down and didn't make anymore noise. Connie was going to have to learn a very serious lesson from this he just wasn't sure how yet.

Gregory removed Stacy's clothing, as he did, she made soft throat noises the most protest she could muster. Using the straps, designed by the Foundation, he bound the woman in a brutally tight hogtie and gagged her with his largest ball gag. The straps worked like zip ties but were larger, stronger, and could be re-used.

Once Stacy was secured and left a drooling, moaning, mess, he turned his attention to Connie. "You really fucked up this time."

She looked up at him with round glassy eyes, her cheeks bulging with whatever was stuffed inside. Stacy had stripped her down to her underwear he figured to make sure Connie didn't have any hidden weapons but maybe to humiliate her also. He was starting to think Stacy might be a better partner for him. But, The Foundation wouldn't allow it, they took great care in selecting collectors to work for them. Although, the system seemed to have failed in Connie's case.

He stood over her, she gave him an expectant gaze waiting impatiently for him to cut her free. "What am I going to do with you. Do you realize what would happen to you if I brought you back to The Foundation, like this, and told them what happened. She started to struggle in earnest not sure if he was kidding.

Stacy had done good work with the tape Connie wouldn't be getting free on her own. "I think you need to be taught a lesson," he said. Connie protested but he ignored her. He sprayed the drug under her nose and watched her struggles slow and her muscles become useless. Eventually, Connie's chin rested on her chest her neck no longer able to hold her head erect the drug taking full effect.

Gregory cleaned the house, removing as much evidence that they were ever there as he could. He couldn't do much about the shattered coffee table. But it shouldn't matter he would be long gone soon enough. After cleaning, he carried the three paralyzed girls to the Van and quickly secured Penny and Stacy into the storage boxes. Stacy, by this point, was in quite a bit of distress enduring the back breaking hogtie. He fastened her tightly inside a box and locked the lid regardless of her suffering.

Next, he regarded Connie who lie completely naked now, unrestrained, but still paralyzed. Her eyes stared at the roof of the Van, a tear running out of each, and down the side of her head. Using more of the special straps he bound Connie's arms into a crushing reverse prayer. He strapped her calves to her thighs. And then with some thin rope, tied her big toes to her elbows. He pressed Connie's thumbs into her palms and closed her fingers into fists he then trapped them with tape.

Once that was done he pulled a special metal bra from a storage bin. The garment went on the body much like a regular woman's bra only the cups and straps had tiny sharp teeth that cut at the wearers skin. "This should make your situation a little less bearable," he taunted. She let out a groan knowing full well what he was about to put on her.

He fastened the bra into place and tightened it making sure every tooth made contact. He inserted a large ball gag in her mouth and placed the bound package into one of the boxes, setting her down on her side, and strapping her to the bottom. "I don't have to tell you how fucked you are. Just think about how things might have gone differently if you listened to me."

Connie couldn't do much in the way of a response but the pleading look in her eyes told him he was making his point. He shut and locked the box leaving Connie in the dark. He took a deep breath finally able to rest a moment after the nights events. He would let the women stew in their boxes for a few hours before bringing them back to The Foundation. He still had to consider what he was going to do with Connie.

He notice for the first time the blood dripping down his side from the wound Stacy had given him. "God damn bitch that one was," he said, aloud to himself. That spirit will only make her transition harder but in the end they would all be broken he thought as he tended to his wound.


Chapter 8

Connie lie in the hot sweaty darkness of the storage box. The drugs had worn off awhile ago, how long exactly, she could not tell. She was finding that having use of her muscles again only made her situation worse.

The fact that she could move only made her want to move all the more. Every wiggle, even the tiniest twitch would cause that infernal bra's teeth to bite at her skin. Any movement would have been futile, anyway, as The Foundation straps provided zero give and would never break. She had applied the very same straps to many women in her short time as a collectors apprentice to know how useful they were in restraining someone.

By now, her limbs ached and screamed for release. Her jaw throbbed from the huge gag, which she knew, never got cleaned. This same gag had been in the mouths of dozens of other unfortunate women without a single cleaning. After all, it wasn't a collectors job to worry about the hygiene of their captives, which, she now was.

She cursed that wicked woman who had reduced her to this humiliation. Connie had never been submissive, not even a little, she wanted power and control. It was why she joined The Foundation. Now, because of that woman all of her power had been taken away. She was completely at Gregory's mercy. Normally, a female collector was exempt from being collected herself, unless, that collector was only an apprentice and her supervising collector deemed her unfit. Once Gregory tells The Foundation what happened he could very easily justify such a judgment. At that point, Connie would be made a lowly slave, for life, along with Stacy and Penny. In fact, as a failed collector she would most likely be subjected to an even lower status than those two.

Connie squeezed her eyes shut as tears pushed between her eyelids. The very thought of being made a slave terrified her but her fate was entirely out of her hands. Connie suffered alone in the dark wishing beyond all hope that she could have the last twenty-four hours to do over again.


Chapter 9

Gregory awoke in the dingy motel he stayed at the night before. The women were still outside in their boxes. He had no fear of them escaping or being heard. The boxes were specially designed to prevent that. Still, he had better check on them.

It could get suffocating hot inside the boxes on a warm day. Stacy and Penny had their IV saline and piss bags so they should remain hydrated for a long time. Connie, on the other hand, he purposely did not hook up her saline bag so she could suffer in the scorching heat as part of her punishment. It was, especially cruel, but he was not in a forgiving mood after her screw ups.

It had been almost thirty-six hours since he put her inside. A bit longer than he intended, but he had overslept, poor Connie would be quite ripe by now.

He first checked on Stacy, Penny, and Marissa. Marissa, admittedly, he had forgotten about in all the commotion of the last forty-eight hours. She was starting to look a little sickly and would need to be brought in soon. He glanced at the box time clock, it read sixty-four hours, he sighed with some relief. Most women could handle about three days without suffering any permanent damage so he still had time to get her to The Foundation. He closed the women into the boxes and moved to Connie's box.

Connie's naked, contorted, body was covered in a layer of sweat. Her hair wet, as if she had just been caught in a downpour. Her piss bag was full, he disposed of the urine and replaced it with an empty bag.

She had not reacted to him yet and for a moment he feared she might be dead. Deaths were a rare occurrence but it had been known to happen. He checked her pulse and was relieved when he felt it pumping under his finger tips. She must have passed out. He grabbed a bottle of water and emptied it over her head.

She coughed, and sputtered back to consciousness, shaking her head to avoid the cold liquid. "Good you're awake." She glanced at him, the ball gag distorting her features so her cheek bones shone in the light like orbs and her nostrils flared as if in a rage. It really would be a shame to take it off but he had decided what he was going to do with her.

It was generally frowned upon by The Foundation for collectors to violate captives. It wasn't strictly against the rules, but the value assessors would reduce a collector's commission if they found out. They always found out, so he avoided it. Although, he may have found a way to have his cake and eat it.

He pulled Connie from the box and propped her on her knees. She moaned at the pain of being moved after such a long duration. He removed the ball gag and replaced it with a ring gag quickly enough that she didn't get time to utter a word.

He tied a rope to the ring gag's harness and attached it to the ceiling of the Van. This left Connie resting her weight on her bent knees. Connie whined in fear of falling before realizing she wouldn't topple over.

"Okay, Connie, you're going to give me something to make up for the inconvenience you caused me." She seemed confused at first, he unzipped his pants and removed his erect cock, and she got the picture. Her eyes widened, surprised he would do this to her, after all, they never touched the captives. Except, of course, collectors didn't usually become the captives.

He approached her, she tried to pull away, to turn her head, but he trapped it between his palms and guided her forced open mouth toward his hard cock. He thrust his cock into her, plugging her throat, and choking her. He finally withdrew, and Connie tried to gasped for air, but he rammed his cock home again. This time he held it for a long time letting her throat massage his erection. Connie's face turned red as her air was cut off for long agonizing moments. It went on like this for many minutes, in and out, until finally Gregory's cock exploded with it's warm salty seed. The cum filled her mouth and poured out over her lips. His spunk forced it's way down her throat and she choked unable to swallow fast enough.

Gregory moaned in satisfaction as his dick throbbed out the last of it's juices. He withdrew and sat down before his weakened legs gave out.

Connie was a pitiful mess by this point. Tears ran down her face and mixed with the cum that dripped off her chin. She sobbed, quietly, the best she could with the ring gag holding her mouth open. "Enjoyed that, how about you?" He said, mockingly.

All Connie could muster in response was a cough and the bubble of cum it created. He laughed, "I almost feel sorry for you."

He did not wait for a response or expect one. He retrieved hand and ankle cuffs and released Connie from the straps. She didn't enjoy freedom for long, as he cuffed her hands behind her back, and cuffed her ankles to an eye bolt in the floor. Finally, he removed the ring gag, held a bottle of water to her lips and allowed her to drink, which she did, eagerly.

"What are you going to do with me?" she said, her voice raspy and timid, not like the precocious young woman she was a few hours ago. Connie sat naked, except for the spiked bra. Her hair, and skin, was wet with sweat and caught the light at every curve accentuating her beauty. He always knew she was pretty but seeing her, in this disheveled, pure state, excited him in a way she had not before.

"You are lucky, because I'm going to give you a choice. Which is more than those three ladies in the boxes will get. You can choose to be put back in that box and I will deliver you to The Foundation and let them deal with you."

"It will be your word against mine. They will have a hearing," Connie said.

"You're forgetting, you are just an apprentice. They don't get a hearing, The Foundation goes by the word of the supervising collector, which is me. Remember your training courses?"

Her expression drooped the realization that he was right obvious on her face.

"Do you want to hear option two or should I just put you into the box now." She nodded yes and he continued. "Option two I release you and you continue on with your life as you have been. Returning home each night to your Cats, seeing your friends, and family as you wish. Sounds good doesn't it?"

"What's the catch?"

"The catch is while you are on duty you will make your body available to me at any time I demand without hesitation. If I want a blowjob, you drop to your knees, if I want that sweet bald pussy, you spread your legs, and if I want that tight young ass you present like a Cat in heat."

"Fuck you, I'm not your fuck doll."

"And what would you be if I bring you to The Foundation?"

She started to argue the point further but didn't bother. He was right and she knew it. At least he was allowing her to keep her normal life. He was being generous considering what he could do to her. "Fine, I agree to your terms," she said, her tone one of defeat and resignation.

"Smart move." He un-cuffed her wrists and ankles. She immediately grabbed for the water bottle and downed the rest of it.

"You're an asshole, you couldn't even give me the saline drip, I almost died of thirst in that box." She reached behind her back and unclasped the spiked bra throwing it across the Van. "Not to mention this goddamn thing."

"It was your fault, I told you to be careful with this capture," he said, his voice shaking with laughter. He could see hundreds of tiny blood dots all over her tits and nipples where the teeth bit.

Connie quickly dressed, appreciating her regained freedom. Gregory didn't care what she did, now, he only wanted her obedience when he needed a good fuck. That would satisfy him for the moment.

He watched as Connie opened the box holding Stacy. The unfortunate woman could be seen still in the agonizing hogtie he left her in hours ago. Connie grabbed Stacy's hair and yanked it back hard, "Guess what, stupid bitch, I got a pardon. I'm going to make sure you get put in the most painful training program The Foundation has. I'll make sure you pay for what you did to me." Stacy just grunted, probably so lost in her suffering she could barely understand what Connie was saying.

Gregory was sure he made the right choice. The Foundation didn't have many female collectors if he got rid of Connie he would end up matched with a man. That definitely would not be as much fun as the arrangement he just worked out with Connie. He was already thinking about what he could do to that body of hers next.