Sold, Packaged, and Shipped

Chapter 4: The Purchase
“I dare say,” commented Sir Sedgewick Harcourt as he viewed the photos on the computer screen. “I dare say,” he repeated.
Since there was no one else in the room, he must have been talking to himself. “That’s a bit of all right, now,” he added.
The photo was of Darlene Fisher, a tall, flesh colored shape against a white background and sporting white ropes wrapped
around her legs in two places. He looked at the breasts pointing towards the camera and added, “Quite all right. Good show.”
He did not stop to study the next few photos for they were simply more of Darlene. But he stopped when he came to the first
photo of Melinda. The youthful woman was glaring at the camera, showing considerably more spirit than the older one. But the
breasts were the same: firm and standing right up. Her hips were a little narrower, as would be expected of a much younger
woman. It was hard to tell with the gag in her mouth, but her lips seemed to have that slightly pouty look that some people call
“kissable.”
Sedgewick leaned back in the over-stuffed leather chair and pursed his lips. This was exactly what he had been looking for. He
congratulated himself on putting in an order with that American chap. Crofton had come through for him in good style. Crofton,
he mused, had to be an English name originally. But then many of the colonists had good old English names. He continued to
stare at the very pretty young woman as he searched his memory. Ah, yes, it came to him. Old English, Croeft or small farm,
plus Tun for dwelling. So it meant dwellers by or on a small farm.
It amused him to find the derivation of old names. Likewise the family crests, which in this case, he remembered as being blue
and yellow with a lion rampant and a knight’s helmet.
But he doubted this American cared about such things. Sir Sedgewick leaned forward and clicked a few keys on the computer.
The photos disappeared and he typed, “Acceptable. Call me to arrange a price. Hope you’re not greedy, as you were last time.”
Then he signed it and sent the email on its tiny electronic wings to cross the ocean and a couple thousand miles of land before
landing in Crofton’s computer. Then he brought up the photo of the younger one again, leaned back in his chair, and commented
to no one, “Isn’t science grand!”
* * * * *
Crofton, who well knew his family crest and had a very nice copy on his wall, read the email with approval. But then, he had
expected nothing else. Sir Sedgewick had made his wants explicit and Crofton, via the bumbling of his agents, had filled them to
a “T.” He typed in a response, naming a price that he knew would be too high. Had to let the old boy in England argue him down.

He would get the amount he wanted, no question about that, but Sir Sedgewick just had to feel he was getting a bargain. So
many people are like that. It matters not how much they paid, only so long as they thought they were getting a good deal.
Crofton had looked up Sir Sedgewick and found that he got his knighthood mainly for monetary contributions to the country’s
economy. His businesses were generating a considerable inflow of money, which the government then taxed the hell out of.
He put in a phone call to Arnie, advising him that the two new slaves would be shipped out the next day and to get them ready.
Then he made some other calls to arrange for their shipment. The transportation of human bodies into other countries had to be
done carefully. There was too much tracking of ships, aircraft and inspections of cargo to do it casually as had been done in the
past. Most of it was searching for drugs and terrorists, but it did make it harder to slip an occasional female past those guarding
the borders. Still, if you were clever...