Taken Before Dawn
Taken Before Dawn
"Five for induction!" the gruff voice announced with a degree of satisfaction that was unrestrained. His message reverberated through the large concrete warehouse...turned induction center...as he lumbered out of his van and waltzed to the open space, drawing the attention of a half dozen guards who streamed toward him from various parts of the building. The large bay door through which the vans entered had closed with an imperious clank, followed by the smooth sound of the electronic locks clicking into place.
All attention was on the vans, where one by one five hogtied women were unchained, their bodies lifted from the cargo vehicles and unceremoniously dumped on the cement of the warehouse floor.
"Someone musta got my memo," Induction Administrator August Crow chortled, as he casually waltzed around his five new detainees. "This batch is much prettier than the last. None of them Lesbos, huh?" He wore the tall black boots and the crisp, tan uniform of the Reformation Guard, a riding crop tucked tight under his arm, lending an air of stodgy authority that belied his crude talk. "Little cockteasers, I'll bet. Every one," he spat out disdainfully, as he momentarily stopped to survey the backsides of the five. While noting how their naked cunts peeked out between their legs, between his legs, his cock throbbed hot. "Undo the bindings so we can see what sluts we have this time. And take out their gags."
"You heard Ms. Bitch wants to do the induction herself," August's assistant Sarge chimed in, barely disguising the sarcasm.
"Yeah, I got that memo. But they're still ours for the next forty-eight hours," his superior reminded him. Pulling the riding crop from his side, he went down the row of cunts and poked high between their legs, hoping to catch their flesh with the sharp edge of his weapon. How each responded would tell him a lot about what kind of female he had on his hands. He loved the screamers most, their spirit much more invigorating than that of the whimpering criers. In fact, it had been his personal project to silence that unwanted crying...and what fun he had doing that...going toe to toe, nose to nose with the little demons. Some had the gall to think they could beat the system with their angry harangues, which made it his job to see that that kind of behavior was purged and they were well-cowed before they were finally swept up into the system. Wielding his power like an ax, he made an example of these shrews by taking them down a notch or two in front of the others. He laughed while he was doing it, unashamed of his power and the willingness to use it.
While August surveyed his new detainees, Sarge moved on with the task of cutting and stripping off the duct-tape, ripping away at the tough material to the tune of the grunts and sobbing moans. Once the tape was gone, he removed the gags.
"On your knees so we can see you," August ordered, "hands at your side."
The wary women struggled into position. Their faces were filled with fear, embarrassment and, in the case of Susanna, the degree of defiance August was waiting to see...there was always one, at least one in every new arrival.
Unveilings like the one he presided over were one of the pay-offs for an often thankless job. The detainees might have been stripped of their clothes in the middle of the street, and spent the last hour naked in the presence of strangers, but they were not yet habituated to the vulgar circumstances of their incarceration. This first dose of reality, the humiliating revelation that their comfortable lives had come to this, was always a moment any man in his position would pleasure in. As he moved into position in front of the five, where they could get their first look at his brutal face, he once again watc