QUARRY (multiple cases of M/m and M/M)

[Xtc]

@blackbound, there might have just been a little clue. Perhaps one might not have thought it would happen so soon.

[Red86]

Just when you think there was some hope, it seems like it's gone. But that brings up the question. The doctor tried to get his sentence commuted down and almost succeeded yet because he was supposedly caught with a knife, it failed. Something definitely feels fishy here. Actually sounds like someone or multiple people are corrupt in this system. Someone needs to get to the bottom of this before it's to late!

[Xtc]

Ah, but one has to prove it , @Red86.
The authorities will just point to the success of the system and turn a blind eye.
Or, perhaps the Doctor is an unusual employee of the State?

[Caldo203]

Your descriptive talents of the processes of the bonds especially the gagging is great - carry on

[Snozzberry]

Great story so far. Gee I sure hope no one gets hurt especially the small boy whom I'm sure Rhys will help and protect. He said laughing out loud.

[Snozzberry]

Sometimes teenagers get what they deserve especially if caught carrying weapons then the punishments should be upped to teach lots and lots of lessons before any pity is shown. Hopefully Rhys will get through all of them with plenty of pain to remind him to be good forever after. If possible I would buy him and teach him to be good and train him to obey me and help with teaching the current crop of young hoodlums.

[Xtc]

@Caldo203, Thank you for the appreciation. All such guidance helps authors, in my opinion - - - as long as they agree with me!

@Snozzberry Better get yourself down to the auctions, then, before someone beats you to it. Take lots of cash!

[Xtc]

@blackbound, @Bradstick, @Caldo203, @harveygasson, @Red86, @Snozzberry. Next chapter coming up as soon as it has been checked.

Just a short chapter this time.

[Xtc]

QUARRY (9)


Value Added

Rhys might well have been, in the salesman’s words, “a prick” but he wasn’t thick and quickly realised that he’d been there before and soon deduced what was about to happen to him. He felt the toe-clamps being unlocked before his feet parted and his toes stubbed themselves against the floor of the container. Even after his wrist clamp had been released from the top of the cage, Rhys could still not stretch his aching muscles in spite of the open door until the strap securing his bridle to the roof of the cage had also been released. As soon as it had, Rhys was still jammed so tightly between the roof and the floor that he still needed to be pulled out of the cage before he flopped, without control against the floor of the pick-up with his chest clear of the bed of the vehicle. At least whoever had slipped the wire noose round his neck wasn’t putting any strain on it. Yet!

“Get him ready. And don’t forget that this unit’s only just been repaired. Cause it any more damage and you both join it on the sales stand. Hear me?”

Rhys was unaware of the emphatic nodding of the two slaves who were to prepare him but he couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t dragged around by the lacerating wire noose this time. He felt hands grabbing each of his arms just under his armpits and drawing him clear of the back of the pick-up leaving him kneeling on the ground still supported by his arms. One of the attendant slaves then lifted him by the ring attached to the top of his bridle so that his thighs were upright while the other kicked he ankles apart so that he was stable. Rhys did is best to comply but his muscles weren’t in much of a state to comply immediately. The feel of the wire tightening round his neck increased his determination to comply as best he could and he was soon kneeling upright on shaking legs. Obviously, the incentive given to the attendants in respect of damaging the goods had been taken to heart as the stinging sensation round his neck subsided once more leaving Rhys supported by the bridle-ring again while the strap holding his thighs together was unbuckled. Rhys’s explosive grunt as the blood returned to his calves again was a mixture of relief and pain. He couldn’t see the frightened looks that the attendants shot towards the salesman.

Rhys was given some minutes to get used to being less closely confined before he was hoisted to his feet by one of the attendants going behind him, passing his hands between his arms and his torso, linking his fingers and lifting him under the armpits. Once more the attendant allowed him some time to steady himself before releasing him from the bear-hug. Rhys crashed to the ground. He heard a buzzing noise and a muffled scream followed by repeated short but sharp intakes of breath and whimpering noises. Obviously the salesman wasn’t too happy about having his merchandise damaged.

The tasered attendant was still whimpering as he and his fellow slave lifted Rhys and guided him relatively gently to the sales stand. Just as before, Rhys was stretched into an upright kneeling position, unable to move his head either up or down but he noticed that this time the neck clamp was not as tight and its edges didn’t seem to be as sharp. Nevertheless, Rhys tried to keep as still as possible.

The salesman assessed his latest acquisition. The stretched pose quickly revealed that there had been some muscle wastage on Rhys’s torso compared to last time due to the long period of immobility. There were compensations, however: the intensive physiotherapy and Rhys’s dedication to practicing his isometrics had kept his leg and arm muscles in good condition. The slightly angled direction of the wrist clamp this time, although it showed off his chest to lesser effect, emphasised the state of his biceps more. The merchant told one of the attendants to thread a rope between the neck clamp and the ring in the middle of the wrist clamp and to draw Rhys’s wrists higher up his back to emphasise further the musculature of the HC’s arms. By the time the rope had been tied off, the advantage to Rhys of no longer having to keep his forearms parallel had been completely negated. The clamp started to dig in to Rhys’s wrists.

The pose having been adjusted to the salesman’s satisfaction, one of the attendants was instructed to wipe all the sales items’ bodies over with an oily rag. It did nothing to relieve the pallor that Rhys had developed in the Service Bay but at least, while they were shaving his head, they had also shaved the sparse hair from his chest, belly and back to remove all signs of the adhesive tape in which he had recently been wrapped. In spite of the three tally marks on his chest, which should have increased Rhys’s value since the initial sale, the salesman didn’t hold out too much hope of a lucrative sale once the prospective purchasers had read his paperwork. Even though he thought that the athletic youth had been displayed to the best advantage in the circumstances, the paperwork detailing his recent repairs could not be avoided.

Compared to the first time he was displayed for sale, Rhys had little time to wait before the prospective buyers arrived. He could only assume that any other merchandise had already been secured in the stand. Before the prospective purchasers arrived, Rhys continued to flex his leg and arm muscles; he had no desire to be thrown away to die slowly.

TBC

[Snozzberry]

RHYS seems like damaged goods I'll give ya 3 broiling chickens and a brand new Corn Cob Pipe for him and use him as a House Boy instead of a target. By the way he's nodding at my offer he seems too think you should accept it.

[Xtc]

NO, @Snozzberry! Corn cob pipes aren't healthy.

[Red86]

Doesn't seem Ryhs has recovered enough. Stupid salesman should have wanted until the next round. But I'll give the little guy credit, he's not giving up. Most probably would have by now. Still hoping for a positive outcome. Whether it's a persistent doc or some other means, I'm rooting for Ryhs!

[Xtc]

Oh, I think the Doctor has shot his bolt, @Red86. I think it's a good idea to get your bets in in case the bookies think he might make it. _ Not that I am suggesting the way you should bet, of course.

[Red86]

Oh, I think the Doctor has shot his bolt, @Red86. I think it's a good idea to get your bets in in case the bookies think he might make it. _ Not that I am suggesting the way you should bet, of course.

I'm not one for gambling. Very rarely do I come out ahead when I do. But for shits and giggles, if I was to bet, my only bet would be that somehow Rhys does make it out alive. Just don't ask me to bet on the details

[Xtc]

I'm not one for gambling. Very rarely do I come out ahead when I do. But for shits and giggles, if I was to bet, my only bet would be that somehow Rhys does make it out alive. Just don't ask me to bet on the details

That's not very civically aware of you. If you don't bet, how do you expect the state to take it's share of the proceeds?

[Snozzberry]

SAVE RHYS, he is innocent I tells ya. A crooked copper planted the knife while poor innocent RHYS was being searched. The City Council is to blame for not properly funding education. Its scandalous treating a member of the public like this. RHYS is innocent I tells ya. SAVE RHYS.

[Xtc]

Beware when and where you protest, @Snozzberry, you wouldn't want to get into trouble with the law, NOW WOULD YOU?

[Red86]

That's not very civically aware of you. If you don't bet, how do you expect the state to take it's share of the proceeds?

Hahaha, I'm staying away from these people and state. I'm not ending up on the wrong side of the law for illegal gambling

[harveygasson]

I wonder what's in store for him next.

[Xtc]

So do I, @harveygasson. Now where did I put that document?

[Snozzberry]

It is a 3 day weekend in America, I sure hope Rhys gets the weekend off and not have to worry about being hunted by those evil Vermicious mean hunters that don't even need the meat but just want a trophy to hang on the wall. If possible I would hang him on the wall or the ceiling with ropes and let him down to do chores and play around. SAVE RHYS.

[Xtc]

I have no idea whether or not it is a long weekend in America, @Snozzberry. I do think, though, that Rhys is going to be quite "occupied" very soon.
He might get a better audience at the weekend, though.

[Xtc]

OK, @blackbound, @Bradstick, @Caldo203, @harveygasson, @Red86, and @Snozzberry, Here's the next part.

[Xtc]

QUARRY (10)


The Second Sale

The prospective buyers arrived, having been regaled to “refreshments” by the salesman prior to being allowed to examine the stock. He knew that would engender in them in a more generous demeanour and there was no law against trying to maximise the revenue for the state.

Three buyers examined the four available sales lots. The first one was Rhys’s initial purchaser who withdrew to the sales office when he failed to see any quarry that was either good enough for him or which he had not hunted previously. The second was a very fashionable middle aged woman who wanted to buy a wedding anniversary present for her husband. Looking at her, money was obviously no object. She was immediately attracted to a muscular nineteen-year-old with a large “3” and two tally marks tattooed on his chest who, once his blindfold had been removed revealing his intense brown eyes and unbelievably beautiful face (even though it was enclosed in a bridle), immediately secured a sale. The salesman’s slave replaced the metal plate in front of his eyes and it was obvious to the salesman that all he had to do was to wait until the inspections were over and the paperwork examined before the woman would bid far more than he was actually worth in the secret bidding to be sure of securing her purchase.

The remaining prospective purchaser was a young father who had brought his thirteen-year-old son to select his birthday present. It was to be his first hunt and the father, although far from mean, was looking for a bargain. His son wasn’t! He wanted the best quarry he could wheedle out of his father.

Rhys had no idea what his competition was but he did conclude that these two represented his last chance of being purchased. He was also only too aware of the implications of his not being purchased. He tried to rise to his full (kneeling) height and flexed his muscles.

The process was far from quick and Rhys was glad to be in practice with the prolonged, although apparently effortless, exercises that he had been taught. The father immediately embargoed his son’s expressed desire to make a bid for the nineteen-year old with an emphatic, “Get real, d’you think I can shit money?” His son regrouped, he recognised when it was better to cut his losses and go for a lesser bid than to lose his father’s sympathy completely and be left with the cheapest present that his father could wangle.

The three remaining lots were Rhys, a very fit but young-looking twelve-year old and a skinny youth of about Rhys’s own age. Each one had a large 3 tattooed on his chest. Rhys was the only one who had tally marks and the boy immediately asked to examine him. The humiliating process of being prodded squeezed and generally handled started. This process still had unwanted effects on Rhys’s body and the pain started as he started to expand into the spiked chastity device. “It’s not a toy, stop playing with it.” admonished the boy’s father, “Look at these others as well.” The boy did as he was told but he’d already made up his mind. He didn’t want the skinny kid, he looked as if he’d get blown away at the first sign of wind and the well-built twelve-year old didn’t have any tallies. He wanted the experienced quarry. Killing that one would have far more boasting value than shooting either unfit or inexperienced quarry. The battle of wills between father and son was on.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I shall have to call this inspection to a halt soon. May I respectfully suggest that we retire to the office to conclude our business?” The salesman was trying to cut his losses. He was far from convinced that he would secure a sale from this man and he wanted the woman’s money while she was still in a generous mood.

As the party retired to the office, the slaves couldn’t start preparing any lots to be thrown away because they all seemed to be in with a chance of being selected. The woman was sure to secure her purchase and, if the father got his way, the skinny HC would also be sent to the hunt. If the boy could keep wheedling for long enough, the fit looking kid might get sold or, if the father lost the will to live, so might Rhys.

The discussions in the comfort of the office were very straight forward. The woman quickly paid handsomely for the nineteen year old who was immediately dispatched via the smallest crate into which he could fit to a remote store on her property prior to being delivered to the restaurant where she and her husband would be celebrating their anniversary. She then left leaving the battle of wits/wills to commence.

This was a three-way contest:
1) The salesman wanted to maximise the revenue from the sale for the state.
2) The father wanted to spend as little as possible.
3) The son wanted to shoot Rhys.

The salesman offered further “refreshment” while the father considered his bid. The father accepted only fruit juice. This was going to be hard work. The documents for all three remaining stock items were produced and the father and son started circling verbally. The skinny lot was quickly eliminated from the negotiations; the son was skilful enough to convince his father that he wouldn’t value it and would consider his treatment of him on his birthday to be beneath contempt. No one wants to be considered a cheapskate or, even worse, a pauper in the eyes of his own son. That left negotiations at a difficult stage: Rhys, having three tally marks, should command a great price but had obviously needed recent repairs. The youngest lot should go for a bargain price as there were no rival bidders. The salesman advised the father that there was a reserve price for each lot that he was not at liberty to divulge. The father knew that the reserve price would be applied in spite of the fact that the state would fail to realise any revenue from any of the unsold lots. That way, future buyers tended to be more generous in order to avoid losing their potential trophies.

The father made a bid for Rhys on the basis that it was obvious why his tally marks were not aligned due to the need for the third one to be applied above his recent surgical dressings. He didn’t want to count the third one. The salesman rejected the offer and the father rose and left for the car park with his crying, complaining, snotty and thoroughly spoilt son in tow. The boy knew from past experience that he could keep up the extreme crying and contrived distress for at least an hour. So did his father.

The father fetched his son a hefty wallop around the back of the head and told him that he wasn’t going to pay any more for damaged goods and that he had to get used to it. Obviously a change of tactic was required and, between the body-racking (and still almost totally staged) sobs, the boy begged his father to return and make a bid for the muscular convict.

“Stay there.” said the father severely as he threw his son into the back seat of his luxurious car. Now the son had a decision to make: was he going to continue the extreme distress act or was he right to expect a forthcoming successful outcome? He thought he might as well keep in practice just in case

TBC

[Red86]

What a spoiled brat. Wonder if daddy's gonna give in and try to make a deal again. In my opinion, he should leave his brat there for a day or two and knock him down a peg or two.

This has got to be hard for poor Rhys. Get picked or get thrown away. This is what we do to machines, not humans..... Seriously though, still rooting for him!