"Can I get you something Sir?"
I yawned, temporarily confused. Blinking I looked up into one of the most
beautiful faces I'd ever seen. I noticed the eyes first, large blue and
friendly, peering out from beneath thick dark lashes. Above them two elegantly
plucked eyebrows arched quizatively. Below came a nose, long and thin in
excellent proportion framed either side by two rosy cheeks. The mouth was a work
of art, the lips cherry red, moist and inviting,framing prefect teeth with a
thousand dollar smile.
Then the lips moved.
"Sir?" she asked again, tilting her head to one side and causing some of her
blue-black hair to fall across her cheek. This dragged my attention away from
that wonderful face and caused me to notice the rest of her for the first time.
He black hair fell around her shoulders, framed by the little cloth nurses hat
on her head and by the tight, crisp white cotton uniform that somehow tried to
cope with her straining cleavage. I was, suddenly and completely awake.
"Err, coffee," I suggested fighting down fatigue, "black, strong enough that it
has a heartbeat and lots of sugar."
She laughed at the heartbeat comment, straightening up and pulling down the
tight nurse's uniform. Now that I could see all of her "statuesque" didn't even
come close; the girl was all curves like some '50's movie star, the makeup, the
hair for some reason it all seemed oddly familiar, though for the life of me I
couldn't place her.
"Okie Dokey," she said flashing me that smile. I'll just go ahead and make you
some fresh, bring the whole pot though so you can have as much as you like."
Now she was saying more than a few words I could hear the twang of a southern
accent in that low sexy voice. Oklahoma? Texas? I couldn't really say other than
it added the perfect touch to an already knockout package. As she turned and
walked away I could see her ass wiggling in that tight skirt, the perfection of
those long legs in their seamed stockings, the white 4 inch pumps she walked on
so effortlessly.
She was like something from another time, back in the '40's and '50's when women
seemed somehow sexier? I could imagine a painting of her lounged across the nose
of a B17 or on the cover of a '50's movie magazine. I certainly didn't expect to
see her here, in the twenty first century and certainly not in the Presidential
Suite of the Imperial Park Plaza Hotel in Boston.
I know what you are thinking. The Imperial Plaza Hotel in Boston doesn't have a
Presidential Suite. Ok so it was one of JFK's favorite hangouts when he was in
town. Lyndon Johnson had stayed here once back in '66. But no where in any of
the hotel literature will you find mention of a Presidential Suite. I sighed and
stood up, shaking the cobwebs from my head and trying to straighten my suit so
that it didn't look like I'd been sleeping in it. Even though I had. I wondered
over to the windows and looked out over Boston Common, noting the Christmas
lights on the streets bellow and the well wrapped New Englanders as they raced
to do their last minute Christmas shopping.
Christmas in Boston and here I was fresh off the redeye standing in a room that
didn't exist, about to meet a man who was a living legend and hoping he was
going to offer me a job. I yawned. A job? Well that was what I thought - no
hoped, this meeting was about. In truth I knew as little now as I had yesterday
evening when a very insistent redhead had pushed the plane ticket into my hand
and told me who it was that wanted the interview. Of course I thought this was
some kind of Christmas gag and that some of the boys in the office were having
me on. I mean, it was a little like finding an invite to the White House in your
Christmas mail. I'd invited her inside, taken one look at the leather
motorcycling outfit that hugged her sexy young body and jokingly told her that I
would go to the interview only if she slept with me. Smiling she had reached up
and pulled down the first zipper.........
I yawned again. It seemed that I was paying for the good time I had last night.
As the nurse slinked my way with a mug of hot coffee I did my best to rediscover
my game face. Ok so I failed a little. You try keeping your mind on business
when Nursie is standing just a few feet from you? I was starting to wonder if
she would sleep with me too. I was only on my second cup and trying to build up
the courage to try my luck with her when one of the suite doors opened and
another nurse peered out.
This one was blonde with green eyes. I looked her over and decided she was
probably a knockout when she wasn't sharing a room with Nursie. She gave me a
look as if I wasn't really good enough to deal with and then said.
"The Doctor will see you now." In a bored voice with a distinct English accent.
I chugged down the rest of the coffee, straightened my shirt and tie and headed
for the door. The blonde stood waiting as I slipped through the doorway. I
suppose I'd expected an office or a sitting room of some kind. Instead I found
myself sharing a small vestibule with two heavily built, heavily armed black
bodyguards. The one on the left, the one I labeled Twiddle Dee, had been the guy
that brought me from the airport. He was the one that searched me again while
his friend stood guard. When they were finished the blonde nurse opened the
inner door and ushered me though to an inner office.
The man at the desk didn't look up. Instead he beckoned me closer. As I neared
the desk I could see that he was in his seventies or eighties with white hair,
beard and moustache. He was wearing a impeccably tailored Saville Row suit,
looking for all the world like a very successful Father Christmas. He looked up
from his papers, peering at me over his wire-framed spectacles.
"Ah Mr. Wise," he said, making no attempt to rise to meet me, "please come in,
have a seat." His voice was cultured with an English accent, the gesture with
which he indicated the chair in front of his desk was measured and economical. I
was struck immediately by the man's grace and breeding. As I headed towards the
chair I did manage to mumble out a greeting.
I slipped into the chair and fidgeted nervously.
Doc looked up. "My goodness Mr. Wise, you look awful, are you feeling all
right?" There was genuine concern in his quiet voice. I flushed red.
"Er jetlag," I said embarrassed, even though New York wasn't that far away.
Doc nodded. "Oh I see," he said, "I assume that Angelvice decided to offer an
inducement to your trip? I should have expected it, French Canadian girls,
terribly oversexed and adventurous."
I blushed deeper but he didn't seem to have noticed. Instead he picked up a
thick file.
"Let me see," he said reading, "Sam Wise age 30. Been working for the Leibermann
Brother's Auction House in Manhattan for the last four years has risen to the
rank of slave trainer." He checked a few other sheets. "An impressive record Mr.
Wise," he commented looking at me with his piercing blue eyes, "Leibermann's is
an old established firm, one of the oldest slave houses in New York, to get the
job of trainer there so young. A major achievement my boy, very impressive!"
I flushed. "I do ok," I murmured.
"You are too modest. This file reads better than just ok Mr. Wise. This file
shows that you are in fact an excellent trainer. I would go as far as to say
that you are already a master of the traditional techniques."
"Traditional?" I said, suddenly interested," What other techniques are there?"
Doc gave an enigmatic smile. "Now we don't want to descend into talking shop so
early do we?" he said playfully, "suffice it to say that your record speaks well
of you. Very well indeed."
At that moment there was a tap on the door and Nurse Bombshell entered with a
tray holding a teapot and another flask of coffee. She slinked over to the desk,
put down the tray, poured Doc a large cup of tea, then clipped my way with
another strong coffee.
She curtsied towards his chair. "Will there be anything else Master?" she asked,
voice hoarse and sexy and full of need.
Doc smiled. "Not now Bettie," he said, "I promise to ring if we need anything
more.. Now run along like a good girl."
At the words "good girl" I thought I detected a little wiggle from Bettie and
she flushed a deep crimson. Almost eagerly she curtsied again and then headed
through the door. Finally as the third dose of caffeine hit my addled brain I
finally added two and two together.
"Bettie Page?" I asked, eyes open wide, "Y...your nurse is Bettie Page?"
Doc sipped his tea. "My assistant Kitten has been experimenting with cloning,"
he confided with a twinkle in his eye, "makes those celebrity abductions so much
easier. We can't decide if Princess Di or dear sweet Marilyn will be the most
popular model."
I looked at him in awe.
Doc giggled. "I'm sorry Mr. Wise, a bad joke, of course we haven't perfected
cloning...yet. Sweet Bettie was an accident, a Minneapolis TV anchor woman would
you believe? Seems that some guy she rejected in high school was willing to pay
almost any price to own her. She was in my facility being trained when that
awful World Trade Center business happened and all of a sudden I had a paid for
slave with no owner. Very tragic. As you can imagine the girl's disappearance
was all in the papers. She was too well known to just sell on to a new owner
without some.... modifications. Then I got to thinking that if I was going to be
doing plastic surgery anyway I might as well create something special.
His eyes glazed a little. "I knew the real Bettie you know? The Klaw's
introduced us in '53...."
He blinked. "Anyway, enough chit chat. I supposed you want to know why I sent
for you?"
I swallowed and straightened up. Here it came.
"Do you like working at the Leibermann's Mr. Wise?"
I'd been working on an answer to that question on the plane up. Joshua
Leibermann was a great boss, one of the legends of the slaving industry, he also
kept good relations with just about everyone. It was important to make clear my
willingness to move employment without appearing to dis Joshua in any way.
I cleared my throat. "I have a good job there," I said nodding, "pay is good,
fringe benefits are excellent as you can imagine..."
"But?.." Doc asked.
I shrugged. "I won't say that there haven't been problems," I said, "It's pretty
clear I won't make Senior Instructor until one of my seniors dies and they are
all healthy men. I have a liking to do more research than a purely retail
organization can support. Also for some reason Joshua seems to be trying to set
me up with various unmarried nieces and grand-daughters."
Doc laughed. "And I take it that you do not care that much for his matchmaking?"
I winced. "I understand what he's doing and I'm grateful," I said, "it's a nice
thought, really. But I work every day with some outstanding looking women
and...well to be truthful there is a reason why these girl's are unmarried."
Doc laughed again and tossed a folder across his desk. "This is the reason you
are here," he said.
Frowning I opened the file. Inside were a number of Polaroid's taken of a figure
in the trunk of a car. You couldn't really see that much. You could tell the
photos were of a woman dressed in a long black leather winter coat with a
fur-trimmed hood. Her arms were bound behind her with windings of duct tape and
lengths of Christmas ribbon. Her legs were also taped and her booted ankles were
hog-tied to her wrists with a length of scarlet silk ribbon. Looking at one of
the other pictures I could see she was gagged with duct tape and strips of
material that seemed to have been torn from a skirt, another strip of skirt
formed a n improvised blindfold.
The hood on the coat was up and combined with the gag and blindfold effectively
hid her face. There was nothing much else that could be seen except for a number
of Christmas presents lying in the back of the trunk, some of which seemed to
have been robbed for the ribbon that bound her.
"Her name is Penny Cartwright," Doc said settling back, "Age thirty one, a
secretary, resident of South Carolina. Two nights ago she volunteered to deliver
presents for the United Way after the co-worker who was supposed to make the
delivery became sick. The local police say that she was unfortunate enough to me
near an all-night liquor store at the time of a bungled robbery. The proprietor
opened fire on the robbers as they fled, injuring one and disabling their
getaway car. Miss Cartwright was driving by at that time and the robbers
car-jacked her vehicle. Later it seems one of them sold the girl to a slave
recruiter who works for Leibermann Brothers. It was he that took these pictures.
At this moment Miss Cartwright is in a holding pen at Leibermans awaiting sale."
I felt my mouth go dry. This wasn't a job offer.
"And your interest in this affaire is?" I found myself asking in a voice far
calmer than I felt.
Doc shrugged. "I have knowledge of her family," he said off hand, "enough that I
wouldn't want to see the girl killed."
I looked at though the papers. There was a head shot in the file, one of those
electronic pictures from the DMV. It wasn't perfect but it did show that Penny
was quite attractive. "Is she on sale for a client or for the house?" I asked.
"Leibermann's bought her from the recruiter, " Doc said, "she's effectively
house stock."
I pushed the file back across the desk. "You could solve this with a phone
call," I said, "just call Joshua and offer to buy the girl back."
Doc settled back.. "I wish I could," he said, "there is some .... history
between the Organization and Leibermann Brothers. Some bad blood."
I sipped my coffee. "Bad blood?"
Doc looked at me as if he was trying to decide something. Finally he said, "Up
until the mid eighties my organization, like many others in the business, sold
via a public auction. These auctions were public in the sense that we ourselves
did not vet the bidders that participated. In fact for many years we used
Leibermann Brothers exclusively, a relationship that we had established as far
back as the late Sixties. Around '86 one of my associates, Sam Beckett, happened
upon police reports of bodies being found in upper New York State. The police
were baffled because none of the young women found were reported missing locally
and none of them had any connection to each other or to the area. Sam had been
in Military Intelligence and in many ways he had a cop's instincts. He found he
could match descriptions of the slain women with slaves sold at Leibermann's.
Some more checking and he had the name of their buyer-- Frank Menzies. Have you
heard of him?"
I shook my head, enthralled in the story.
"Menzies was a New York real estate developer who got rich during the boom years
of the mid to late seventies," Doc said. "He specialized in office developments
at a time when lower Manhattan was crying out for office space. At that time
Menzies was richer than God, to the extent that even if the police had suspected
him I doubt they could have touched him." Doc shrugged. "It seemed to Sam that
Menzies was buying girls from Leibermann's, torturing them to death and then
disposing of the remains in the woods upstate. Because he was using the slave
cartels to obtain his victims Menzies took no risk of discovery, left no tell
tail signs that police could latch on to. In short, he could kill for as long as
he had the money. And Frank Menzies was very wealthy."
Doc sipped his tea. "I approached Leibermann Brothers with our findings. Joshua
and his older brother Maurice pretty much told us that there was nothing they
could do, that we had no proof that one of their clients was a killer and that
besides the FINAL disposal of slaves was a question that we all had chosen to
ignore."
He sighed. "It was a heated argument," he said, "and when word leaked out
several other suppliers pulled away from Leibermann's. Most recruiters back then
relied on police reluctance to investigate missing person's cases. If Menzies
continued to dispose of the bodies in a hap hazard way, and people started to
put names to victims then the men that recruited those girls would be in real
trouble. The boycott hit Leibermann's hard. Maurice believed that we had
deliberately leaked the information and he was furious, ended our business
dealings that afternoon. Not that it mattered, I had by that time decided to
move to a direct sales model so that I can vet my purchasers. I did however send
a parting gift. Through another broker I supplied a slave to Leibermann's one
that was exactly matched Menzies buying profile. As I'd hoped Menzies bought
her, took her up state to the sadistic fun house he had built in the woods and
prepared to kill her. Unfortunately for him she was not exactly the victim type.
When he wasn't looking she managed to get free and broke is neck."
I nearly choked on my coffee.
"She killed him?" I spluttered.
"Oh yes," Doc said, "but far quicker and cleaner than he would have done her.
Her name was Teresa and I am proud to say she is still very much with us."
"And that dear boy is where you enter the story. I'm sure you can see that a
call from me would not be well received at Liebermann Brothers? In fact, neither
myself nor any of my associates have had any dealings with them in a long time.
However there is still the problem of the girl..."
My heart was racing. "I...I won't break her out," I said, "No matter what you
offer, Joshua has been good to me!"
Doc looked up. "Oh no dear boy, wouldn't dream of asking you to do that! No,
Penny is a little wild, I for one believe she would benefit from the attentions
of a strong and determined Master. She has shown several submissive tendencies
in the past, ones that I'm sure will enamor her to any purchaser. No, no under
normal circumstances I would be happy for the auction to just go ahead..."
"But?" I asked, sentences like that always have a "But."
"Penny's abductor sold her cheap," Doc said, "in addition she's feisty and
possibly difficult to train. Consequently, Joshua has her slated as lot one."
I swallowed. That was not good. The opening lot was the loss leader, usually a
girl not so pretty as the others, or one that was older or disfigured in some
way. Lot one was a girl that would go extra cheap as many of the bidders
wouldn't be even in their seats by then.
I swallowed. Lot one was the kind of girl a certain type of customer was looking
for.
"I don't get it?" I said, remembering her mug shot, "she's far too pretty to be
the opening lot?"
"Not for the special New Years auction, and not when you paid almost nothing for
her."
"So what do you want me to do?" I asked.
Doc smiled. "I want you to do what you do best dear boy. I want you to train
her. Make sure she puts on a good performance on the day, that she gets bid up
to a point here the sleazy sex clubs and the S&M Houses can't afford her. A
price were she is guaranteed a good Master."
I swallowed. "T... that's a tall deal," I said, "for an opening lot?"
"Yes but you are so talented. Just train her to be the best slave you can in
nine days. Teach her the things you know will get the bidders interested. In
exchange I will pay you fifty thousand dollars on completion."
"I...I," I stuttered, he had just offered three times the going rate.
"Let's not haggle," Doc said, taking my astonishment as resistance, "I'll make
it an even hundred."
Doc raised his hand. "And as a special treat I'll have Angelvice and Bettie
deliver the money.... personally,"
I looked up into his eyes and knew then that he'd found my price
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The Slave Pens are where we hold our stock between auctions, a long tiled
hallway perhaps fifteen feet across with strip lighting and featureless
whitewashed walls. Rows of cages run either side of the central aisle with gaps
of a foot between them. An industrial shelving system allows the placing of a
second row of cages above the first, doubling the small room's holding capacity
and making the place resemble a large and very elaborate pet shop.
The cages themselves only strengthen that resemblance. Each is 3 foot square,
about five feet long and made from welded steel mesh. The cages were originally
designed to hold large dogs and the only changes we made was to add a hasp for
padlocking the door and putting a padded crib mat in the bottom for the slaves
to sleep on. In the days before the auction the sellers deliver their stock to
us and the place fills up, in the days after the place empties as the buyer's
collect their property. Between times only the girls we are contracted to train
remain and the ones that the House chooses to purchase for its own use.
Penny was sitting in a cage allocated to house stock. I walked over and casually
took the clipboard that was fastened to the short hitching post in front of her
door. A brief glance confirmed the details I'd been given. Name, age, lot
number. It seemed that my new patron was well informed. The paperwork clearly
showed that Penny was Lot number one.
I mused for a moment. Usually we only trained slaves after the auction, if the
buyer contracted us to prepare his girl for him. To take a girl for training
before hand was unheard of. Had Penny belonged to one of our regular sellers
there would have been nothing I could do but as she was House property she was
available for use by our staff. I could easily take her to a training room
without attracting attention.
I glanced down to see her looking at me with wide inquisitive blue eyes. As I
watched she turned her head to one side, pretty chestnut bangs falling across
her face. She reached up, the heavy manacles on her wrists rattling as she
pushed the wisps of hair from her freckle covered nose. She couldn't speak, the
harness gag locked around her head saw to that, but never the less those blue
eyes were full of questions. As I watched her lips slid over the rubber ball
that filled her mouth, a gob of drool detached itself and fell between her naked
breasts. We didn't usually gag the girls in the cages as it made tending them
more difficult. The gag was proof that little Penny was being rebellious.
Shivering, naked, bound and gagged Penny looked far younger than her file
indicated. In fact in the subtle lighting of the Pens she could easily pass for
an older teen. I hoped that the lighting in the auction room would be as
generous.
"Present for inspection!" I commanded, flashing her a warning look. In my four
years at Leibermanns I had never taken a house girl for my personal use. The
fact that I was doing so now would be enough to start tongues wagging especially
amongst the female staff. If I was going to do this it had to appear to be by
the book.
I looked down to find Penny hadn't moved. "Now girl," I said, adding menace to
my voice, "unless you want to be scheduled for a whipping?"
Penny shook her head, sniffed then shoved her manacled wrists through the small
rectangular hole in the bottom of her cage door. I reached down and checked them
quickly, ensuring that they were still locked firmly in place.. Satisfied I
nodded. "Continue!"
I had to wait a moment while she turned around in the tight confines of the
cage. Finally her feet poked through the hole and I checked on her ankle
restraints. The manacles themselves were almost identical to the wrist irons
except that attached to the center of the linking chain was a longer chain, one
that exited the cage through the rectangular hole and was welded to the steel
hitching post outside. Satisfied that she was still secure I beckoned Bernice
over.
Bernie has been with the firm since before I joined. Rumor has it that she and
another high school senior were snatched by a recruiter who had been unable to
get the other girl alone. At some point as a punishment a trainer had made
Bernie whip her friend, only to discover that she liked to discipline women. It
happened that one of the female guards was leaving to have a baby, so Bernice
had become a trustee, a slave guarding slaves. In theory the situation was
temporary with Bernie filling in only until the end of the guard's maternity
leave. That had been five years ago.
Bernie tottered over, she was dressed in a tight red leather corset, red high
heeled thigh boots and long red leather gloves. I knew this was her costume for
the Christmas auction and I guessed that she was breaking in the corset and
boots. Around her throat a metal control collar was locked in place. This was an
electronic device used on all slaves given free run of the holding area. It was
a locator, a bug that monitored their conversations and a means of punishment.
Most importantly it contained a circular shaped charge similar to a pipe cutter.
Should any slave try and leave the secure area of the complex without permission
the collar would detonate. In addition any collar could be remote detonated from
the security office. As no trainer on the floor carried either the key to the
collar or a method of disarming the explosive fences, the loyalty of the
trustees was assured.
"Yes Sir?" Bernie asked, giving a little bow and trembling a little. Bernie
liked me. I knew that. In addition I was the youngest trainer in the complex.
Bernie had been trying to get me to fuck her since I started.
I pointed at Penny. "I'm taking this slave for a quick Christmas fuck, Bernie,"
I said trying to sound casual, "prepare her for me."
Bernie flashed me a look, probably wondering what Penny had that she didn't.
Bernice wasn't unattractive, with short brown hair and green/gray eyes but I had
to work with her every day and didn't want the complication of a needy slave. I
detected a distinct cooling of her tone when she bowed and said, "yes Master."
She unlocked the cage door and opened it. "Out," Bernie said making sure that
Penny knew who was boss.
Penny inched her way out.
"Stand, turn and face the cage."
Penny complied quivering slightly in fear. Not knowing what would happen. Guards
like Bernie have keys to the cage doors so that they could clean the insides.
However keys to each slave's bonds and to the long chain that locked them to the
hitching posts were only kept by trainers. As Penny trembled and moaned into her
gag I unlocked one of her wrist cuffs, threading the short chain that linked
them though a ring at the back of the chastity belt and locked it again.
"You may turn," I said keeping my voice low but stern.
She turned as ordered, head bowed and sobbing a little. I realized that she must
have heard my "Christmas Fuck" comment and was expecting the worse. I took a
leash from the wall and locked it to the O ring on the front of Penny's collar.
Then I forced her to sit on the shelf unit and raise her legs while I unlocked
the long chain from her hobble. The message to Penny was clear, she was never
going to be given the opportunity to cause trouble. Her body would be controlled
every step of the way. She was helpless.
I took the leash and turned to Bernie. "I want this cage cleaned and restocked
while I'm gone," I told her, "if anyone needs me we will be in training room
two."
Bernie bowed. "Yes Master," she said. There was still the hint of a pout there
and I could tell that she was disappointed. Still now that I had started using
the house slaves she probably thought she had a chance. Besides she knew her
pretty rival would be gone in a few days.
I took the leash and lead Penny down the row of cages.
Having a cage at ground level she'd probably not had chance to see the scale of
the place. As we wondered down the ranks she started peering into the cages,
eyes wide at the sight of the half-naked girls inside. There were almost as many
different reactions to our passing as there were girls. Most looked out of their
cages with wide fearful eyes. Some whimpered, some pleaded some made sounds from
behind thick gags. Some looked on with fear, some curiosity, some with tears. I
began to realize that Penny was sobbing quietly behind her gag as the enormity
of her situation hit home. Ok so she had been captured in an unlucky accident, I
suppose she'd thought she we might get sloppy and let her escape but now it was
clear that dozens of girls were held here, that this was a polished and cruely
efficient operation. There would be no escape. I hoped that would make her
willing to cooperate.
Pausing I opened the door to training room two. "Inside now," I ordered.
Inside the room was furnished with a number of training devices. I watched with
amusement as she surveyed it all. He eyes widened when they fell on an
examination table, then again when she saw a cage, a medieval torture rack. A
steel latticework was fastened to two of the walls offering numerous places tie
offs and mounting points. Closing the door behind me I removed the leash.
I pointed to a comfortable chair at the far side of the room.
"You will go to that chair and kneel beside it," I commanded. I stood for a
moment and watched as she padded over and squatted into a clumsy kneeling
position by the side of the chair.
I sat down. "Bend forward girl!"
She bent forwards slightly and I unlocked the harness gag and removed it.
"Would you like a drink?" I asked. Normally girls in the cages had access to a
small water tank. However one of the secondary punishments of being gagged was
that you couldn't drink. I figured she would be very thirsty by now. That was
why her answer surprised me.
"No, Sir, I do not believe so," she said quietly, her blue eyes surveying every
inch of my face.
I shrugged. "Do you know where you are girl? the purpose of this place?" I
asked.
Her nostrils flared and I caught a flash of anger in her eyes. She controlled it
though, straightening her back and holding her head proudly. I think she thought
it made her look determined, but all it did for me was thrust her breasts out in
an appealing way.
" No, I do not. Why are you doing this?" she said, looking me in the eyes.
I sighed, "Penny, the men that took you were part of a street gang," I
explained, "when they car jacked you they just wanted your vehicle. However, one
of them then sold you for crack money. This is an auction house a place where
slaves are bought and sold. You have been bought and on New Years Day you will
be sold."
Her eyes had widened with the news. I decided that trying to be "good cop" would
work best right now. If she viewed me as a friend, then perhaps she would trust
me to train her.
"Are you sure you wouldn't like a drink?" I asked kindly.
"No, Sir, I do not want a drink! You cannot BUY and SELL humans,...Sir!" she
said angrily. I suspected that someone had already punished her for not saying
"Sir" because she tacked it on to the end of every sentence like a password. She
looked at me eyes flashing. "It is illegal!....Sir!" she added.
I looked at her impassively. "Well illegal or not we do sell human's honey," I
said, "and in a little over a week you will be sold with or without your
cooperation."
I could tell she was scared and that made her angry and as Yoda would say that
led in turn to stupidity.
"I can tell what you're thinking," I said stroking her cheek, "you have a feisty
side and you think you can escape.. If you waste your energy on thoughts like
that you will place yourself in real danger."
She tried to pull her head away from my hand so I seized her chin, tilted her
head back so that I could look her in the eyes. "You probably don't believe it,"
I told her, " but I am here to help you."
She looked at me impassively "How so....Sir?" she asked, "by drugging me into
submission? By offering me drug-laced beverages so I won't care what happens?"
I frowned, wondering what had made her think that. "Penny, you are helpless," I
told her, "If I wanted to drug you I could inject you at any time. Or give you a
pill and say swallow this Slave or I whip your cunt!"
She blushed at the word cunt and I could see her eyes widen in fear. I couldn't
see a mark on her but I figured someone had shown her a whip, either that or one
of the other girls had earned herself a public flogging. In any case she was
trembling now. I figured it was a good time to explain things.
"Do you want to live Penny?" I asked harshly.
"Yes, Sir," she murmured in a hoarse whisper. Her whole body was trembling.
"Then listen. Have you ever been to an auction Penny? Any kind of auction?"
Her head was bowed, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was shaking
uncontrollably.
"No, Sir," she whispered, "except for cattle auctions with my granddaddy."
I decided that was good enough. "Do you know what the opening lot in an auction
is called Penny?"
"No, Sir," she mumbled, quaking like a leaf.
"They call it a loss leader do you know what that is?"
"No, Sir."
"It's something you sell bellow it's regular value, something you almost give
away to get people in the mood to buy more." I said watching her reaction. "In
the case of our auction on New Years Day you will be our opening lot, the loss
leader."
As I watched her sobbing shoulders stiffened. Frowning I continued.
"There are places, bad places that need a regular supply of girls," I told her,
"" They are called Houses of Pain." I said, pausing a moment to think. "They are
extreme S&M clubs, cathouses for the sadistic. Most are here in New York. If you
are a sadist and you can pay enough you can do whatever you like to a girl.
Whipping, electrocution and cutting are just the start, some of the darker clubs
offer mutilation and I'm told even snuff. However, these places have the problem
of finding girls for the extreme stuff. I mean, very few girls would do this for
money. So the clubs buy girls from auction houses like this. Girls they can
torture and use any way they like."
"They don't want to spend too much," I said, " so they look for the older girls,
the younger girls, the not so pretty girls. Any girl they can get cheap because
they don't expect her to last long. Are you with me Penny? What do Houses of
Pain buy girl?"
"Girls for cheap, Sir."
"And you are the opening lot Penny," I said, "you are the next auction's loss
leader."
She started to tremble again and I thought she had put two and two together and
was terrified. However when she looked up I could see a look of white hot rage
on her face.
"I am NOT CHEAP!" she yelled, "I have SEEN cheap women!"
Unfortunately I laughed. I laughed because Penny had somehow put one and one
together and got eleven. She had been scared, she had feared being tortured to
death in a house of pain. I had for a moment had her in exactly the frame of
mind that I wanted. Then she had worked out that she was going to be sold cheap
and it had injured her pride. I laughed some more and that made her REALLY mad.
"Those cheap women haven't got ANYTHING on me!" she yelled, " Anyone stupid
enough to sell ME cheaply should get what He deserves!" Her blue eyes were
flashing with anger. I began to realize I was loosing control of the situation.
There are times it is best to cut your losses.
"Open wide."
She blinked, still very angry, but she knew that she would be in trouble for
rejecting the gag. Still sulking she opened her mouth and let me slip the ball
inside I positioned the harness straps and tightened them.
"I will be back for you tomorrow," I told her, "I suggest that tonight you do
some soul searching. Believe it or not I'm actually here to help you. If you
let me train you, if you are impressive enough at the auction, then you would
command too great a price to be bought by a pain house."
I could see that wasn't working. The cheap thing seemed to have really hit home.
I decided to use it. I grabbed a nipple and twisted it until she gave a muffled
yelp. "Are you a cheap whore Penny?" I asked.
"Ummppphhhh!!" she squealed angrily." She shook her head.
"Carry on this way and you will be sold at that auction as a cheap whore, you
will end your days in some sadistic hovel as a cheap whore. Cooperate and you
will be sold for a lot, I mean tens, hundreds of thousands. The kind of money a
girl of your quality is worth. Let me help you. Let me train you to show you the
best way to display your assets."
That seemed to strike a more favorable tone. She was still angry but this time
she nodded.
I led her back the way we came. This time though the girls in the cages seemed
more interested. There were white girls, black girls, yellow girls, blondes,
brunettes and redheads. All had been slaves long enough to know what happens to
a girl when she is taken off in private by a Master.
Inquisitive eyes turned Penny's way, most looking at her chastity belt, looking
for fluids, marks that she had been recently used. Penny's face burned with a
combination of humiliation and anger. She walked on head held high, avoiding the
looks of the girls in the cages.
I stopped in front of her cage signaling Bernie to kneel and attach the chain to
Penny's hobble.
Then I forced Penny down. "Crawl inside," I ordered. Once the door was locked I
turned to Bernie.
"I want this one to be given an enema tonight," I said smiling evily, "she seems
to be full of shit, let's change that." Bernie sniggered and made a note on the
clipboard.
I looked down at Penny who's eyes were wide in astonishment. She began to wail
behind the gag.
I smiled. "Remove the gag too. Fit her with a control collar instead."
With that I walked away. I didn't have time to explain things. I had hoped to
get Penny to do what I wanted out of inspired self-interest. Now it seemed that
wasn't going to work. Now I would just teach her to obey the hard way.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!11
"Gooood morning slave," I said smiling sweetly, "Isn't a hypocolonic
refreshing?"
Penny looked up and growled, even though the gag was gone.
I'd spent part of the morning doing my Christmas shopping and had called in my
instructions for the care of dear little Penny. One of the assistant trainers
had moved her to training room two in advance of our second session. I looked
over the bound slave and nodded. I had to admit that the girl knew her ties,
especially ones that humiliated women.
Penny was locked to a portable hitching post that had been placed just in front
of the trainer's chair. A portable post is made up of a large padded platform at
the center of which a vertical steel pole is mounted. The slave is forced to
kneel on the padded section, the back of her collar locked to the post and her
wrists pulled back and linked with tight chains to rings welded to the back
corners of the platform. More chains are attached to cuffs at knees and ankles,
pulling the kneeling girls legs open. The combined position has her kneeling
with her back against the pole, arms swept back at an angle that pleasingly
displays her assets while her legs are held open exposing her sex to the
trainer.
I knew she had been waiting for me like this for over an hour but being the
considerate type I'd laid on some entertainment. Looking down I could see that
the cunt guard had been removed from Penny's chastity belt and that she was
snuggly impaled on two large rubber dildoes, the thicker of the two filling her
sex while it's slimmer cousin filled her anus. I knew that both were programmed
to vibrate periodically in order to keep her attention. To make sure she didn't
make too much of her situation two chains were locked to D rings on each side of
her belt. These were linked to the platform base limiting Penny's ability to
move up and down on the dildoes to a couple of inches. Not only did it stop her
from sliding off the intruders, it also stopped her from gaining any
unauthorized sexual release. I looked down at her splayed sex, noticing the
trickle of juices from her tortured hole and the engorged pink puffy lips. It
seemed that dispute everything little Penny was getting off on the situation. I
stored that tidbit for later.
I sat and watched her squirm for a while, tapping my gloved palm with the tip of
a riding crop. The new Control Collar was fastened tightly to her neck but I
wouldn't need to use it right now. Helpless and unable to defend herself I had
lots of interesting ways to apply punishment directly. The collar would come
into it's own when I needed to give her more freedom.
At first she just glared at me and I just smiled back. Finally I think she got
the message. Anger gave way to pouty looks and then, after a burst from the
vibrators had teased without delivering relief, to a begging, pleading look.
There was no gag, she could have spoken at any time but she didn't. Finally I
broke the silence.
"I made a mistake yesterday," I said, "I'm sorry. I had thought that if I
explained the danger to you, made you see that this training was in your own
best interest and that you would cooperate. Seems that was a mistake. So now we
will do it another way. You will learn to present yourself the way I say. You
will do it because I want it done. Clear?"
She pouted so I brought the crop down on her two nipples, hard.
"Arrrrgghhh!!" she screamed.
"I asked a question?" I said.
"Fuck you!" she spat. I gave each breast five more stripes. At the end she was
sobbing, head bowed.
"Tell me slave," I said, "are you going to say that again?"
She shook her head. I gave each nipple two more strokes. Penny looked up, eyes
full of tears.
"I told you I expect an answer when I ask a question," I said, "is that clear?"
"Yes..." she sulked.
This time I gave two sharp blows to her inner thighs, just close enough to her
cunt that she understood what would come next.
"Yes," she sobbed, "yes Sir."
"I prefer Master," I said coldly. To this day I have no idea why I said that.
Trainers are called Sir or Ma'am by slaves with Master and Mistress reserved for
their actual owners. Penny didn't even have an owner yet, but it was still a
breach of protocol. Still Doc had told me to teach her all she needed to be a
good slave on the day and part of that was respect.
"Is that clear?"
"Yes Master," she whispered looking down. The anger was gone, just like a summer
storm that had blown over. I took it as an omen and pressed on.
"We are here to get you in shape," I said, "I can whip you into shape or you can
cooperate. Now which is it to be?"
"I'll cooperate Master," she said, head still bowed. She was sobbing but that
had started to subside.
"Good," I said, "at this moment you are a worthless cunt. What are you?"
"W... worthless cunt Master," Penny sobbed.
"Damned straight you are," I said warming to the task.. I stoked her nipples
with the tip of the crop, " want to know why?"
She shook her head, thought better of it, wide eyes looked it the crop. "N..no I
mean yes Master."
I smiled. "Because you are a difficult little cunt," I said, "what are you?"
"A...a difficult little cunt Master?"
"Exactly," I said, "and that is why we are both sitting here nice and comfy
having this nice little chat," I beamed.
She flushed a little, I suspect that yesterday she would have told me just how
comfortable she was. Today she glanced at the crop, looked down and said
nothing.
"What I want from you," I said, "is an assurance that you are going to be a good
girl for me. Obey every order with a big smile and genuine enthusiasm, be the
bright shiny little Penny that people want to have in their pocket."
"Yes Master," The dildoes chose that moment to kick in again. Penny threw her
head back until it was resting on the pole behind her. I watched as she
whimpered, chains rattling as she eased herself up, then down the impaling
rubber cocks. As I watched a bead of juice tricked down her lips and fell on the
padded seat. She whimpered.
"Needy slave?" I asked.
She flushed, eyes closed, head back. She trembled a moment as she eased herself
up and down the dildo the couple of inches the chains would allow.
She swallowed. "Yes Master," Penny whimpered, needy blue eyes looking at me a
moment.
I checked my watch and waited. A few seconds later the vibrations ebbed. Penny
gave a muffled, whimpering moan of frustration and settled back down, she looked
up, eyes tearing slightly.
"It five more minutes it will start again slave," I said, "and again five after
that. It's impossible to get off on it, the devices have cut outs, sensors that
know when orgasm is imminent. They are the ultimate tease, few more cycles and
you'll be out of your head with need but you'll never ever cum."
"Please......' she whimpered.
"Want to cum?" I asked.
"Yes Master, please..."
"Well the only way that can happen is if I fuck you," I said playing with a
nipple, "I mean you're just going to get hornier as time goes on. And you won't
be able to relieve yourself, any time you aren't tied so you can touch it the
chastity belt will be locked in place. That cunt is valuable now slave. Far too
valuable to be used by a worthless little slut like you."
She whimpered and looked up with her big blue eyes.. "I... I'm NOT worthless,"
she wailed. She struggled briefly, enough to confirm that she was helpless, then
she just looked down and sobbed.
"Do you want me to fuck you?" I asked.
"Yes please Master."
"Then you are a worthless little whore. What are you?"
She sobbed and shook her head, cheeks wet with her tears. "I...I ...I'm a
worthless little whore," she moaned, her face flushed red with humiliation,
Yesterday she had thrown a temper tantrum about being considered "cheap" now she
had descended to worthless and horny. This was going a lot better.
'Well the sooner we get though what we have to do here the sooner I can fuck
you," I said off hand, like fucking her was one of a list of chores that needed
to be completed. She noticed and looked down dejected.
"Ok," I said, "we have an auction in eight days. Before then we have to teach
your useless ass a few tricks to please the bidders. What can you do? I mean to
please a man?"
For a moment she said nothing and flushed a bright cherry red. I was just
starting to think that I might need to use the crop again when she said. "I...I
give good head Sir," she swallowed, "I swallow and everything. My old boyfriends
thought I was a g..good lay."
Saying such crude things was obviously a big thing for her and had taken
considerable effort. In response I laughed. A deep long sarcastic laugh that
left her sobbing with shame and humiliation.
"Sweetheart, we sell sex slaves here not Sunday School teachers," I paused as if
thinking. "Actually we HAVE sold some Sunday School teachers," I confided, "but
we sold them as sex slaves....... Anyway, every girl here has tits, mouth, cunt
and ass. Every buyer here gets the use of those things on the girl he buys, if
she's willing or not. Every buyer gets his money's worth. All girls here
swallow, if they know what's good for them, all girls here are a good lay, if
they want to avoid the whip. If you want to stand out, from the rest you will
have to do better."
She sobbed. I stood and opened the fly on my leather pants. She blinked up, eyes
suddenly wide and worried.
"While we are on the subject though... let's see how good that mouth is?"
My cock sprung out without hesitation. After all I'd spend half an hour in the
company of a naked, helpless girl who's sex was being teased by a powerful
vibrator. Just the smell of Penny's pussy would make a man hard right then. I
walked forward, straddled the padded platform Penny was tied to then reached
down and unlocked the back of her collar from the pole.
'Serve me .... Slave," I commanded. Ok, so I was in the midst of a serious power
kick, but I view it as a job benefit. Just as Penny was trying to decide if she
played along and obeyed or face the wrath of my crop the vibrator she was
impaled on sprung to life.
"Ohhh!!!" she gasped, arching her back and sliding up-down the 2 inches the
chains allowed. She started to pant, exposed nipples now bullet hard. I stuck my
semi hard cock in her face. "You won't cum slave," I taunted, "all this is going
to do is make you even more horny and frustrated than you were before. Suck me
nicely and I'll fuck you later...you'll get to cum."
Sighing she leaned forward, her lips sealing themselves around my cock and
giving a gentle sucking pressure. She bobbed back and forth, a few wisps of hair
sliding from her auburn bun to fall across her shoulders. I gasped... moaned a
little.. she was sucking deep and hard, tongue sliding underneath, thrusting
forward, taking the whole length as she slipped down until her lips almost
kissed my balls. I felt the subtle pressure of her throat against my cock head
and then she was thrusting in and out, her head bobbing forward and back, each
back stroke ended in a moan as the dildoes buried themselves deep inside her.
Then she would rock forwards, slurping my cock. For a moment she paused, licking
the length of my shaft and my balls. Then she fixed her mouth around my cock,
eyes looking up in helpless submissive reverence as she worshiped my member. Two
more rocking, slurping passes and I felt my balls twitch, a split second later I
was shooting hot sperm into the back of Penny's throat. And then I felt it, a
tremble that went though her helplessly bound body, one that her throat turned
into a moan that vibrated my pulsing cock. Looking down, mind fogged in mid
orgasm I saw Penny's body quake and her eyes roll back in her head for an
instant.
Penny had cum. Despite the limited stimulation, orgasm sensors and cut off, the
combination of the vibrators teasing, the pain, the humiliation and the
submissive thrill of being used by a man, of being forced to swallow his cum,
had come together to push her over the edge. As my cock softened she slicked it
clean, quiet and subdued. Then she settled back, letting the dildo fill her to
the fullest extent, she bowed, lowered her eyes and thanked me respectfully.
And then I realized we had a real chance.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'd unchained her from the hitching post and she lay at my feet, ankle cuffs
hobbled together, wrists manacled in front. I'd taught her to slave kneel,
resting back on her heels legs parted so that I could see her pink pussy,
titties thrust out nicely, her chained hands behind her head. We were both still
feeling the post orgasmic buzz and I for one was admiring the view. Then Penny
looked up. A look on her face like something obvious had just struck her.
"I....I can dance Master," she offered.
I blinked. "Most girl's can dance," I said.
She shook her head. "Not like this Master, I've been studying belly dancing,"
she swallowed, "Egyptian style."
Now it was my turn to look puzzled. "There are different styles?"
Penny beamed. "Oh yes Master! There's Egyptian, and Turkish, and Persian and
what they call Ethnic and Fusion and.."
"Enough!" I said, it appeared there were different styles.
"Show me," I said.
--------;
Traditionally belly dancing has been associated with the Bedouin tent or the
Turkish harem, a place filed with vibrant fabrics and exotic odors where the
only sounds were the swish of silk against warm, compliant female flesh and the
eclectic music of an Arab band.
Penny did her best, I could see her brow furrowed in concentration, but when you
are expecting the exotic the reality of our current surroundings was bound to
disappoint. No tents here, just the plain, cold concrete of an industrial
dungeon, the dusky maiden dressed in fine silks and shimmying to the wail of a
Minjayrah replaced by a shivering naked girl desperately humming the tune she
was trying to dance too.
It didn't help that she kept looking down, eyes wild and frightened, at the
small remote I held in my hand. I'd had to demonstrate the control collar to her
if only to convince her that this wasn't some crazies wet dream. I'd used level
0, the one we call attention level, a jolt usually used to warn a girl that she
risks *real* punishment if she continues with what she is doing.
It seemed that that jolt had been more than enough to make Penny tow the line.
As she danced, humming and shimmying across the room her eyes would always come
back to the remote.
"Enough," I said, "over here slave."
She shivered and swallowed. "Y..yes Master," she whimpered.
I pointed at the padded platform near my feet. I'd removed the pole and the anal
buttplug but the thick rubber cock remained in place, hard and proud still
covered with Penny's juices.
"Suck," I said.
She looked at the glistening black tool with disgust. Looked up at me
beseechingly for a moment, then looked at my hand and the remote. She gave a
small sob then lowered her head and padded over. A moment latter she was
kneeling on the pad, mouth wrapped around the rubber cock, eyes looking up at me
as she bobbed up and down.
I let her keep doing that for a few minutes, just long enough that she
understood who was in charge. Then I smiled at her.
"Ok sweetheart," I said, "mount up."
For a second she looked horrified and then reluctantly she slipped her mouth
from the rubber cock and shifted her position, straggling the big black rod and
gingerly lowering herself onto it. She gave a sudden intake of breath as the
tool penetrated her, then a moaning gasp sound as she slid her wet pussy down
the shaft.
"Open your legs," I ordered, "shoulders back, hands behind your head."
Sniffing she complied and I was again greeted by the sight of the rubber cock
splitting her pussy and filling her womanhood.
I nodded with satisfaction.
"You're dancing was pitiful," I told her, noting with satisfaction how my words
made her tremble. "If I thought you had even the slightest talent in anything
else I would pass on this." I paused and let her take in my words. She looked
down and shivered, though one look at the juices flowing around the penetrating
dildo told me all I needed to know.
Finally I said, "unfortunately we are a little stuck for time right now, so we
will have to go with what we have."
She looked down, nodding silently.
"Cup your breasts, fuck the dildo," I ordered, watching as she upped the pace on
the rubber intruder.
I gave her five minutes to get hot and wet on her own before I unzipped my fly
and signaled her to attend me. She lent forward and engulfed me with her mouth,
glancing up for a moment to gauge my approval before she started to pick up her
speed. She bounced up and down on the dildo while sucking on my cock. I think
she must have thought it was a rerun of earlier.... It was time I proved
otherwise.
"Enough!" I ordered, "sit up in the rest position."
Shivering she did as she was ordered, wide eyes fixed on the remote, she
swallowed and glanced up, obviously wondering what she had done wrong.
"Give me your wrists, "I ordered. When she did I brought them up and locked them
to the ring on the front of the control collar. She whimpered as I seized her
upper arms and eased her off the dildo. I guided her forward to where my slick
cock waited hard and ready.
I saw her eyes widen. So far she had been assaulted but not raped and I think
she'd assumed that she would be spared. It was time to dispel that illusion, her
blood work had come back clear of STDs and a contraceptive implant had been
installed under the skin of her left arm.
She was ready.
I grabbed her hips, guiding her wet hole onto my pulsing erection. I eased her
down a little.
"Ohhhh noooo!" she moaned.
"What? I snapped.
"Please......"
"Please fuck me," I corrected, "say it slave, now..."
I slid her down three inches, pumped up, down, up again. She whimpered,
struggled a little, but with her hands chained to her throat there was nothing
she could do. I pulled her down hard, filling her, she squealed, but by then I'd
eased her up. She caught her breath just before I rammed home again.
"Say it," I hissed.
Penny was sobbing now. I rammed in again, making sure she felt every inch.
"Say it!"
"P..... please fuck me Master!" she whispered.
"Louder!" I demanded ramming up and pulling her hips down.
"P....please," she started.
"Louder!!!"
"Please fuck me Master!"
"Fuck you how?" I asked, ramming upwards again.
"F..fuck me ... hard," she moaned.
"Again!"
"Fuck me hard M..Master!"
I nodded, too caught up in my own physical pleasure to really want to tease her
more. I grabbed her hips, moving her in time to my own thrusts. Somehow a nipple
found it's way into my mouth. I halted her, nipped the base of the bud with my
teeth and let my tongue swirl around it. Penny moaned, back arched so that she
thrust her breast towards my mouth. I played a little longer, let her catch her
breath, and then I released her, starting to bounce her up and down on Mr. Happy
once again.
Five more strokes and I felt her clench, her body quaking as the first wave of
orgasm hit. Three more strokes and I joined her, my cock twitching inside her
filling the hole that was currently my property.
---------------------------'
"Again," I commanded bringing the stick down hard on the concrete and banging
out the rhythm as she danced. Across the dungeon on a little wooden platform
Penny shimmied, her body clothed in a little silken 2 piece outfit I'd found in
the stores. I'd lucked out with the music too, there was evidently a healthy
Arab community in this part of New Jersey and I'd found the local record store
spoilt for choice.
She had picked a tune she liked, one that to my ears sounded no different to any
other, and around it she had started to build a routine.
Very slowly.
"Again," I called as she stumbled. I brought the stick down hard feeling more
like the dance teacher from "Fame" than a mean slaver.
Still I had made one discovery. Penny needed to be ruled. Not dominated, not
played with, not given the occasional halfhearted order, Penny needed a heavy
hand, the hard domination of total subservience. Force her down, make her obey
every order completely, and she proved to be no trouble at all. It seemed that
this was one case where the girl really did play up if you were too light on
her.
This time she was better, making it through the whole thing without a mistake.
"Pitiful," I said, " drink some water, do it again. If you are that bad again
you will be scheduled a flogging."
Penny padded obediently to the cooler and swallowed down a cup of water. In
truth she was a lot better than she had been but now was not the time to let up.
I had her do two completely perfect runs before I bent her over the table,
parted the silk harem pants and used her from behind. Afterwards she thanked me,
cleaned my softening cock with her mouth and let me chain her.
"Master?" she asked as I led her towards the door.
"Yes slave," I said. Her voice had a quizzical tone that made me wish I'd
brought a gag with me. When a girl asks a thoughtful question rather than just
reacting to what you do to her it's usually a bad sign. This time was no
different.
"M....my owner Sir, the one that buys me," she swallowed, "will he be like YOU
Sir?"
I shook my head. "I have no idea," I said truthfully, "all kinds of people bid."
She nodded thoughtfully. "This girl likes you Sir," she said, quietly, "this
girl could serve you forever."
I winced. You hear about slave attachment of course. Professionals call it
everything from natural submission to the Stockholm Syndrome. Between a Master
and his owned slave it can be a wonderful thing, auction houses like ours even
teach new Masters how to instill the right level of love and devotion in a new
purchase. However, between slave and trainer it is always a bad thing.
I sighed. Normally I would tell her that what she was thinking was impossible,
but I'd also promised Doc results. With just two more days to auction the last
thing I needed was to upset the girl before her big night.
Instead I stroked her naked ass reassuringly and said "I know."
"You know it's out of the question?" Joshua Leibermann said looking up from the
papers on his desk, "all girls are naked, all girls are bound all girls are
gagged. It keeps things easy and uncomplicated and means that we show the
customer the goods."
I counted off on my fingers. "Girls with professions involving uniforms, like
Air Hostesses and cheerleaders, we normally display in costume," I said, "nobody
accuses us of hiding the merchandise then. That former Olympic Gymnast that the
Russian Mob sold last year we had on the parallel bars, so we relax the bondage
rule too. And that singer? The dark skinned girl everyone thinks died in that
plane crash? I seem to recall her being gagless long enough to belt out her last
hit?"
Joshua makes deals, has done all his life. If you start into a negotiation with
him never expect the final result to be what you start out with. If Joshua
doesn't force at least some concessions then he simply wont be happy.
"Simon, Simon," he said raising his hands, "let's talk serious for a moment. The
costume is not a problem, dress her if you like, she's an opening lot..... this
is a Christmas auction, go crazy. But look, I'm sorry she has to be bound
somehow. The little Russian Gymnast had a long leash and a steel collar, trust
me I insisted, I know. And as for the gag does this girl sing AND dance?"
"No...." I began.
"Then she doesn't need her voice."
"Belly dancers smile a lot," I said, "it's part of the mystique and when they
dance they need to breathe."
Joshua looked down at his books. "Simon you are a very clever boy, I'm sure you
will figure something out. Now while you are here. My cousin's girl is visiting
for the New Year, perhaps you should think about meeting her?"
Somehow I escaped the office without a date.
---------------------------------------;
I think the realization hit me as I was buying fabric. It was the morning of our
last full day and I was in an ethnic fabric store buying the silk for Penny's
auction outfit. In keeping with the season and in deference to Boy George I'd
decided that living would be easier if Penny's colors matched Joshua's dreams -
so the outfit was being made from lengths of red, gold and green fabric. The
store offered a service where you could have a costume made up while you waited.
It was then, while an Indian woman pieced together Penny's dance outfit on an
ancient industrial sewing machine, that I realized I had a problem......
...........I wanted to keep her.
Now I know what you were thinking she can be a royal pain in the ass but at
least she was my kind of pain in the ass. Trainers don't usually get close to
girls. New recruits pass through our hands so quickly there is no time to form
an attachment. Later if you do train a girl it is always for someone else, you
reconcile yourself to the fact that she is owned property, outside your reach.
Penny was different. There was a possibility.......
I shook my head and dispelled the idea at once. That was crazy! Even assuming
that I could get away with breaking Leibermanns rules there was still the fact
that a slave costs a fortune, even for someone in the business. Then the little
voice in my head whispered again. Penny was the opening lot! Even if her dance
sparked interest she was probably going to go in my price range.
I shook my head again. It couldn't get an invite. For security reasons a
different team ran the auction, nobody from the slave pens was allowed to attend
or at least nobody that knew the pen's location.
I swallowed down my misery, took my purchases and went to work.
---------------------;
We did a dry run that afternoon. Penny looked stunning in the red/gold/green
costume. The metal harem belt around her waist seemed to work well with the
outfit, and the thin strong chains that linked the harem cuffs locked around her
wrists and ankles to the belt only added to her allure. Dressed in silk and
chains and shimmying to the music Penny looked enticing. Even the silken yashmak
that was used to hide the ball gag in her mouth added to her mystery. Ok so she
couldn't smile, but the veil did bring out the gray of her eyes and made you
wonder just what lurked behind.
After the rehearsal I pushed her back on the table and took her one last time,
listening to the muffled gasps of pleasure as I forced her closer and closer to
orgasm. We came together, the clinching of her pussy milking every drop from my
cock as if it knew this was the last time. Today I cleaned myself, electing to
leave the ball gag in place rather than answer the awful questions I could see
behind her gray eyes.
------------------;
The idea came to me on the way back to the office. Ok so it wasn't the most
brilliant of ideas but I had to start someplace. In essence I had two problems
with the auction. First I couldn't get in without an invitation. Second I had no
idea where it was. What I did know was that Leibermann's always held this
auction in a swanky downtown hotel and that the place needed a secure basement
garage for discrete "unloading." I knew that the hiring of the hotel would be
done through an intermediary and would never appear on the company books.
However, the security people we sent were unlikely to sit around for eight hours
starving.
The housekeeping computer system was never meant to be secure, the subsystem for
expenses even less so. It took me three tries to guess Art Gruberman's password
and check his past expense claims. Art ran the security detail that looked after
the slave's on auction night. Like all those guys he had never worked the pens
and didn't know me from Adam. The answer to my question turned out to be the
Belmont Hotel, a ritzy little place on Fifth that had seen better days. Every
few months, on the date of the auction Art Gruberman ate at the hotel deli and
invoiced the meal. He should have been more careful.
It was too late to get a printed invitation, but that was ok, some of our
customers would always show up on short notice. I found the list of last minute
attendees on a sticky note stuck on the side of Tracy Broderick's computer
screen. I thought for a while trying desperately to come up with a suitable
alias. In the end I found one I thought was suitably mysterious. Laughing I
jotted it on the bottom of the post-it note and returned it to the screen. I
just had time to reach the bank.
========================;
"And your name is?" the girl asked. She was a company slave I could tell, her
face seemed familiar from a few years back and the control collar around her
throat was a dead give away. She looked cute in her "Santa's-little-helper" red
PVC suit. A badge pinned next to her right breast informed me that her name was
Michelle and she would provide blow jobs on request. I thanked my lucky stars
that I'd taken the time to work up a disguise.
"The name is Kent," I informed her, peering though my dark glasses "Tash Kent."
Ok, so it had looked good on the post-it note! Not that it mattered to Michelle,
as long as I was on the list I could have been Queen Victoria. She checked
briefly and then nodded. "Your deposit Sir?"
I smiled and tried to hide my nervousness. "But of course," I said, reaching
into the pocket of my dinner jacket and removing the cashier's check for
$125,000.
She took it, placed it in an envelope, signed and sealed it and then handed me a
receipt and a paddle with the number 176 on it. I watched as she slipped the
envelope into a strongbox and served the next customer. I swallowed hard, most
of my savings were now in that envelope.
Then I mingled with the crowd. Grazing on the buffet and trying to avoid being
drawn into small talk. I'd tried to make Tash Kent as generic as possible. Most
of our customers were of Mediterranean or Arab origin so a bottle of temporary
tan applied to all visible skin areas seemed appropriate. I'd selected a dinner
jacket and bow tie rather than an expensive suit that I didn't own. The Fez?
Well, my uncle was a Shriner, and it had seemed a good idea at the time.
And you're right I stood out like a sore thumb.
Still it didn't matter, if my name was on the list, if I paid my deposit, then I
was obviously supposed to be there.
Suddenly a dinner gong sounded. I looked around noticing that a few of the folks
had left the room. Puzzled I followed as they went through to the main ballroom.
Here intimate little tables awaited, a company slave in red fetish Santa's
helper outfit waiting patiently at each table ready to serve. I spotted Bernice
in one corner, two other girls I'd trained on tables near the front. I settled
for a table off to one side served by a girl I didn't know.
A brief look at the nearby empty tables told me all I needed to know. Settling
down I batted the ass of the Santaslave with the back of my bidding paddle and
sent her off to the bar for wine; I figured if the company had $125K of my money
I should at least get some service.
She arrived back just as the lilting tones of Penny's music started to play.
Over on the stage the curtains parted and a senior house slave in a red PVC
Dominatrix outfit called out the opening lot. I skipped listening to Penny's
particulars and used the time to gauge the competition. As expected there were 3
groups of seedy looking men on the tables at the front heckling and shouting at
each other. These were the pain boys. I noticed that one group had already bent
their Santaslave over the table and were paddling away. On the second table the
house slave was on her knees, red gloved hands holding two erections that her
mouth was servicing alternately. I hoped the distraction would work to my
advantage.
Penny entered bang on cue, holding a dynamic pose before she started into her
routine in earnest. I watched as she shimmied right, listening to the faint
tinkle of her chains as she worked the veils across her body. She was good, an
adrenaline rush and a live audience had added sparkle to her technically perfect
routing. I noticed that the yahoos on the tables at the front had stopped
shouting. Instead the watched transfixed as Penny placed her hands behind her
head and started the first of her tummy rolls.
And then the bidding started.
We were at $3000 dollars fifteen seconds in. I blinked and looked around. At the
back stood a number of Arabs, obviously lured from the buffet by the sound of
native music. As I watched there was another flurry of paddles and the total
jumped to $60,000. This was out of the range of the pain boys and they knew it.
Not that it mattered though. None of our disgusting little friends had even had
time to vote.
Penny turned her back and wiggled her ass, gray eyes looking over her shoulder
as she worked her way down stage. I was transfixed for just a moment, but that
was enough to push the total to $90,000. There it stabilized a little and I
realized with some relief that Joshua had been partly right. Slaves that sold
for more than $100,000 tended to be very young and fit. The outfit helped
Penny's dancing but it also hid her body. With that still an unknown the others
hesitated. I suddenly found my paddle in the air and the bid at $95,000.
I had the high bid for maybe two seconds before the $100k barrier was hit. I
looked around trying to spy the other bidder. I raised my paddle again. $110,000
this time as the biding increment had gone up.
This time when I was outbid I spied the other bidder.
The Domme had a table to herself near the back. There she sat like a Queen, two
muscular male body guards stood behind her wearing leather pants and strappy
leather body harnesses. At her side were two girls, one in a red latex maid's
outfit and one in blue. Red maid was feeding her mistress grapes while blue maid
topped up her lady's Champaign glass. Of the girl herself I saw little, just red
lips twisted in a smiled, a bosom held in check with tight leather and a pair of
lace up patent leather stiletto thigh boots that were resting on the back of a
rubber slave of indeterminate gender.
I looked back to find my paddle raised again.
$130,000. I could afford that, I thought. I had fifteen in the bank....
Another...
The price had jumped to $160,000.
It took me a moment to realize that the Domme had simply bid ahead, probably the
highest she was willing to go. On stage Penny's routine had ended, she was
kneeling on the floor as I'd taught her. Waiting for me to beat $160,000.
And I couldn't. Auction rules said that all bids under $200k have to be settled
that day. There was no way I could raise the extra $50,000 in time.
Dejected I looked down as the hammer fell and Penny was sold to another.
-----------------------------------------;
I trudged towards the door feeling more than a little dejected. I kept telling
myself that I'd done all I could. It didn't help. I sighed, all I could hope now
was that Doc would be pleased and that Penny had a good life.
"Mein Lady vould like to speak mitt you?"
I blinked, half turned to find a mountain of well oiled muscle standing next to
me. I craned my neck looking up past the thick muscle-bound neck to the small
head with its buzz cut blonde hair. It took me a moment to make the connection
between the man mountain and my auction rival.
"Tell your Lady I have to decline," I said, I'd been around enough arrogant
goddess-Domme types to know she wanted to crow over her victory.
"Mein Lady insists," there was something in his German accent, maybe the early
Schwarzenegger undertones, that told me that "no" was not an acceptable answer.
I sighed. Ok, I'd let her crow a little.
Up close the mystery Domme was younger than I expected, though the severe makeup
and dark glasses made it hard to gauge her exact age. Her face was long and
triangular, her blonde hair fastened in a number of braids close to her head. I
suspected that without her glasses her eyes would be blue and stunning. I found
my eyes drifting down to her ample bosom and its tight leather sheath. About
this point my body reminded me to breathe. I let my eyes play over the black and
blue strap fronted leather corset, the matching skirt, mistress collar and
patent thigh boots. I assessed the quality and soon come to a figure close to
$6000 for the outfit alone.
The little designer dresses for the rubber girls were also more complex and
expensive than they first appeared. The more I looked around the more I realized
that this girl had money to burn.
"It voss a good auction, no?" she asked, cherry lips rolling each word in a
deep, sexy East European accent. "You enjoyed our little duel Mr....?"
"K.. Kent," I said, "Tash Kent. And you are?"
"Katiyanna Ivannova," she purred, "perhaps you hav heard of me?"
I shook my head, "No, not really?" I said.
Katiyanna smiled. "Then you hav heard of my father, Nikolli Ivannova?"
I felt a lump in my throat that I somehow managed to swallow down. "Russian
Mafia?" I croaked.
"Entrepreneur," she corrected, "my father has certain media and oil interests in
the former Soviet Union." She shrugged, "We do ok."
At the back of my mind a light went on. I had wondered where a girl like
Katiyanna could get this kind of money? I mean no pro Domme or escorts make that
kind of cash, and old moneyed families rarely let their daughters keep such
interesting servants. I'd seen some TV programs on Nikolli's somewhat eccentric
tastes, the opulence of his lifestyle and his family's love of attention made
them a wicked cross between the Osbournes and the Husseins.
Katiyanna turned. Behind her the two maids were making out with each other. Blue
maid, the one with the dirty blonde hair was pawing her brunette friend's latex
covered breasts as the two French kissed.
"Tatyana, Nadia, a chair for Mr. Kent."
Reluctantly the two parted. The blonde came up to me, stroking my cheeks with
her blue latex covered hands. She kisses me deeply, the kiss panting and hot.
She placed her hand on mine, guiding it to her latex covered bosom. Then she
reached up and cradled my face in her hands for a moment. Her blue eyes
sparkled, her red lips opened just a little. Panting, she gave my cheek a
parting stroke.
By then the red maid had circled behind me with a chair. She grabbed my
shoulders, pushing me down onto the chair. Before I knew it more rubber fingers
were sliding though my hair and I felt gentle pecking kisses at my neck. In
front of me the blonde had slipped to her knees and waited patiently.
Katiyanna smiled and took a sip of wine. "Why Mr. Kent, I do believe my girls
like you," she said in a bemused voice. She indicated the kneeling blue maid. "I
think Tatyana wants to know if there is anything she can do for you?"
I cleared my throat and adjusted my collar. "Errr, no, not now..." I stuttered.
Tatyana looked pouty and disappointed for a moment, but that soon ended when her
Mistress raised her blue and black leather skirt to reveal her damp and naked
sex. Tatyana needed no further orders, with a hungry look she scooted over,
burying her face in her Mistresses mound, her head covered by the soft leather
skirt.
Katiyanna squirmed for a moment, and then a contented look spread over her face.
"I asked you here so that we could discuss my new slave," she said, "you know
something about her history Mr. Kent?"
I flustered a moment. "No, not really.." I started.
Katiyanna laughed. "Come, come Mr. Kent do not take me for a fool. I was
watching how you behaved, you paid no attention to the girl's statistics and the
look on your face as she danced..."
I tried to force an enigmatic smile. "It's a long story," I said.
At that moment Katiyanna gave a low moan, head back, her gloved fingers
clutching at the blonde's head. I didn't know where to look. Fortunately Nadia
chose that moment to bend over and kiss me deeply. It took me a moment to break
her kiss by which time Tatyana was back to kneeling before her Mistress.
Katiyanna was a little flushed but seemed back in control.
Katiyanna glanced at me. "Let us cut the bull-shit," she said, "Mr. Kent, the
little dancer, do you love her?"
I blinked. "Well I...."
"I am wantings a straight no bull-shit answer yes of no Mr. Kent, think well on
your answer."
I looked down and nodded. The little knot of misery that had started when the
auction hammer feel had now grown until it filled my chest. "Yes," I said at
last, "yes I do."
She clapped her leather palms together and smiled. "You see Mr. Kent that was
not at all difficult was it?"
She thought for a while. "People," she said at last, "they tell me Katiyanna,
you are such a soft touch, you are such a NICE person. Me? I admit that this is
a weakness of mine I like to see everybody happy and so I will sell this girl to
you Mr. Kent for vone hundred and ninety thousand American Dollars."
I choked. "B.. but that's more than you paid for her," I protested.
She nodded and gave a dismissive gesture in the direction of the stage. "This is
true," she agreed, "but trust me she went terribly cheaply. I cannot let the
girl be sold for less than that. Think of her self-esteem? Who would vant to go
to a Master unwilling to pay the base minimum for you? Normally, such a slave
vould be worth two hundred thousand at least, but I can see that you love her
and softie that I am I am giving you heavy discount."
She gave me a worrying smile and nodded to Nadia who slipped a card into the
breast pocket of my dinner jacket. "The address of my father's penthouse is on
the card, bring the money there," Katiyanna purred, "but we will be leaving New
York in just a few days so be quick Mr. Kent. Be quick."
The two maids were now in front of me, locked in another passionate embrace.
Once it was clear that their Mistress was finished with me they parted, crawling
towards her with hungry looks. Katiyanna, signaled with her finger and Nadia
headed towards her Mistress's pussy. Tatyanna moved up to kiss her Lady
passionately on the lips. Once that was broken Katiyanna looked my way, clearly
surprised I hadn't worked out that the interview was over.
"You may go, Mr. Kent," she said, shooing me with her gloved fingers, "run
along."
=======================================;
You would think that a man with my income would have no trouble finding another
sixty five thousand American Dollars. Well you'd be wrong. I don't know why
exactly, but money just flows though my fingers like water and wherever it goes
it doesn't seem to leave behind any saleable assets. I found myself in my
apartment looking at things I could sell quickly and realizing that there was
just no way I could raise the money. Dejected I sat down, crushed by that
feeling of inadequacy and loss for the second time in two days.
For a moment I considered going to Joshua and asking for an advance on my next
two jobs. Unfortunately, the company gets worried if its well paid employees
start needing money, it could be the sign of substance abuse or worse. The last
thing they need is a wild card employee compromising security. Going to Joshua
would mean too many questions.
Just then the doorbell rang.
Puzzled I padded over and peered though the spy hole.
Outside stood a vision in well-tailored black leather. I caught a glimpse of red
hair pulled back in a short bun, of almond shaped eyes that twinkled beneath
arched eyebrows.
I swallowed and opened the door to let Angelvice stride purposely into the room.
I could tell straight away that she wasn't pleased, there's this little gallic
body language thing that French momma's teach their daughters, a way to signal
to any unfortunate male that his ass is grass.
She turned abruptly and raised her little nose.
"My Master is displeased," she announced regally in her cute accented English.
I blinked. "Why?" I asked puzzled.
"You are," she paused, "'ow is it en Anglais? A still?"
"A still?"
She paused and frowned again. "It means you cheat in auction, bid on yourself?"
"A Shill?" I asked.
"Oui," she nodded, "and 'e is displeased." She unzipped a pocket in that amazing
suit and pulled out an envelope. ""E has asked that I gives you dis."
I had forgotten about Doc's money! I'd been so engrossed with getting Penny
though the last few days I'd forgotten that I was going to get paid for it. I
sighed with relief and tore open the envelope. I opened the package and quickly
counted the bills inside.
I looked up. "There's only ten thousand here," I said disappointed, "there was
supposed to be a hundred?"
Angelvice shrugged. "I do not know," she said, "I was told to tell you that you
cheated. That you did not do as you were instructed and consequently you will
not be paid." She gave a little nod. "This money is to cover your owt of pocket
expenses."
She turned to go.
"No wait!" I said, "You don't understand that wasn't what happened at all."
Angelvice sighed. "I am just the messenger, Monsieur," she said, "If you wish to
debate my Master's decision you will need to take it up with 'im yourself."
"I have no way to reach him," I moaned.
Angelvice turned and for a moment I saw her face soften. "As soon as 'e gets
back to Boston I will tell 'im you need to talk," she said. She turned back to
the door.
I frowned. "Back in Boston?" I said, "where is he now?"
Angel shrugged. "'E is in Manhattan," she said, "'E always comes 'ere for the
New Year."
"Then why wait until Boston?" I asked, wondering what I had missed.
Angel sighed. "'E is meeting some clients today and then 'E goes back to Boston.
I will not see him until then."
"B..but you know where he is, right? I mean where he's staying in New York?"
"I 'ave to go," she said.
"No, you can't," I said, "I need to talk with him, today."
What happened next was a blur. She pulled her arm from my frantic grasp, I tried
to snatch her arm, she slapped me, I slapped her, she slapped me again and I
think I punched her. I'm not sure exactly, one minute we were arguing and the
next Angelvice was crumpled on the floor like a rag doll.
----------------,
"Ummmmppphhh," Angel moaned, biting down on the clean pair of socks that filled
her mouth. I could see her trying to force them out with her tongue but the
dishtowel tied over her mouth prevented that. I saw her struggle for a moment
and then a look of panic crept into her eyes as she realized that she couldn't
get loose. I chose that moment to walk over.
I'd been forced to strip her naked --which was regrettable since I've had dreams
of leather girls in tight bondage since I watched Emma Peel as a kid. However, I
needed full access to Angel's body if she was to be "persuaded" to help me.
I'd tied Angel face up on the old, sturdy coffee table in the center of my den.
Her naked torso was open and exposed, her arms and legs folded back underneath
the table and bound together with a nest of computer cables, duct tape and phone
cords. I watched while she struggled harder, noticing with satisfaction that her
hands and feet still had good color and that her desperately questing fingers
could get nowhere near a knot. For now I left her to struggle figuring she would
let me know when she decided it was futile.
That took her almost twenty minutes.
After the usual warning of the consequences of screaming I removed the gag.
"Bastard," she spat, "let me go!"
I shook my head. "Not until you tell me where Doc is," I said, "I need to see
him, right now."
She took a deep breath and raised her chin. "Never Monsieur," she said proudly,
"this slave would rather die than betray the trust of 'er beloved Master!
Torture me as you will I will never surrender!"
I rolled my eyes. Great, I thought, just what I needed, a feisty little French
girl with a Joan of Arc complex. I pulled her head back and stuffed the gag back
into her mouth while I thought.
It was possible that she was bluffing, that she would roll on Doc at the
slightest discomfort, but somehow I doubted it. I figured what I needed to get
around Angel was a kind of torture she wasn't expecting. Back at the dungeons at
work I'd have been spoilt for choice. Here, I needed to get creative.
--------------------;
Angel moaned into the gag and bucked up, her hips chasing my retreating hand
with all the movement she could manage. I moved the vibrating massage glove
away, watching in satisfaction as the girl humped the air for a few moments
before settling back in a state of excited frustration. Reaching down I rolled a
nipple, watching as her blindfolded face turned first one way and then the
other.
This was the fourth orgasm she had been denied, the fourth time I'd dragged her
helpless body to the edge just to leave her wanting. Her nipples remained hard
showing that her body was still charged and sensitive. As I ran a finger though
the wet folds of her shaved sex she started to buck again, whimpering into the
sock gag and forcing her hips up to meet my hand.
I bent down, blowing on the erect nipples and on the pink bud that peeked out
from beneath it's hood. Angel rocked her hips again, crying in frustration.
"It must be starting to hurt now?" I commented, running my fingers over her
belly. Angel nodded dejectedly. I figure her soaked pussy must be screaming for
attention right now so I moved on to her tits. Angel moaned as I rubbed the ice
cube around her swollen nipples.
"Will you tell me what I want to know?" I asked.
She shook her head defiantly as she had before. This time though there was a
hesitation and perhaps a little less enthusiasm. I smiled and picked up the
Hitachi wand, set it to low-n-slow and ran it up and down her mound, letting the
powerful vibration create it's own brand of mischief in her needy sex.
Last year I put my shoulder out playing tennis and though the doctor said it was
fine I still get the occasional spell of cramp or stiffness. Over time I've
gathered a nice collection of massagers and topical creams, some of which had
additional uses.
I let the vibrating glove caress Angel's breasts, playing around each nipple
before holding her whole tit in my hand. At the same time the other hand ground
the bulbous head of the wand deeper into Angel's wet mound. She squirmed, she
yelped, and all the time she got closer and closer to the edge. I watched
carefully, noting her movement, her face color, her breathing......
.... And removed the wand again.
Angel wept with frustration, bucking against the table, tugging desperately on
the bonds. I waited until she stopped.
"I can keep this up for as long as I need to," I said, "another hour of this and
you'll be out of your mind. Now will you talk?"
She shook her head wearily again. I gave her five minutes to cool off and then
started afresh.
She finally broke after 2 hours and nine denied orgasms. I was just starting
into the tenth teasing session when she whimpered for the gag to be removed.
Angelvice sobbed. "Ok Sir," she moaned, "I will tell all, just please let me
cum!"
I laughed. "No you don't sweetheart, you go first."
She licked her lips. "If I tell you I will 'ave betrayed my Master, my life as
'is slave will be over."
I nodded thoughtfully.
"So I have a condition," she whispered.
"Oh no, you're the helpless one here baby, you're the one that's begging."
"Please," she whispered, "if I tell you, you must promise to finish me yourself,
fuck me, fuck me 'ard."
I smiled. Two hours watching a naked girl squirming an d bucking on the table
had made Mr. Happy needy too. "Ok," I said, in a tone of voice like I was making
a great sacrifice, "Now tell me."
I noted the address checked it and then slipped the gag back in place. As I
thrust in Angel bucked beneath me, her tight cunt clamping down on my sex. I
pounded in, my own frustration and need for speed leaving no time for foreplay.
Not that any was needed. After two hours of none stop teasing Angel was primed
and ready. I slid in deep and after only five strokes I felt her start to spasm.
I accelerated then, driving my rubber coated cock deep inside her warm wet
womanhood. She screamed out the first orgasm and just kept cumming. Somewhere in
the middle I filled the rubber, keeping my cock going until Angelvice was pumped
dry.
------------------------;
"Be good," I said looking back from the doorway. She looked my way and whimpered
into the gag. I'd tied Angelvice to a heavy wooden chair in the corner of the
den. The cables and tape had been reused, making sure the unfortunate messenger
girl didn't go anywhere for a while. I'd filled her mouth with a clean pair of
socks but this time I'd covered her lower face in duct tape and an Ace bandage
to ensure she stayed quiet.
On the VCR I loaded up the three-hour compendium tape of old '70's porn movies
I'd been bought as a gag gift last year. I'd turned up the sound just enough to
cover Angel's faint moans. I figured that if a passing neighbor did hear her
gagged cries then the cheesy 70's porno music would convince him I was having a
night home alone.
As I closed the door it occurred to me that Angel would still be here when I got
back, so even if the meeting with Doc did not go well at least I had something
to look forward to.
The address Angel had given me was an old residential hotel just off of Park
Avenue. Having seen Doc's security in Boston I took no chances. I waited until
the doorman was occupied helping a resident and then slipped inside. I got into
the stairwell and the started the climb to the tenth floor.
I used a penknife to slip the lock on the fire door and then sneaked into the
elevator vestibule.
It was at this point I realized I didn't have a real plan.
You see when Angel had told me Doc's reasons for not paying me I'd kind of
freaked out. It seemed obvious that this was all a terrible misunderstanding and
that once I'd cleared that up, Doc would be happy to pay me. All I needed to do
then was head over to Katiyanna's and rescue Penny. Simple! I mean it works like
that in the movies right?
Standing outside Doc's door I realized that in Doc's eyes I'd cheated, kidnapped
and tortured one of his employees and was about to invade his home. I was
probably about to get shot on sight.
It was at times like this I am reminded of the words of the great Hebrew scholar
who penned the immortal line "oh what the fuck!"
I knocked on the door.
To my delight Nurse Betty answered.
"May I help you?" she asked, flashing me that 1950's dreamboat smile.
"Sure," I said, "you remember me don't you Betty, we met in Boston? Errr Doc
asked me to stop by, err finish up some business?"
I figured this was the point where the goons appeared/body parts were
broken/Simon gets shot/Simon's body gets dumped in the East River. Much to my
surprise she smiled sweetly and invited me in.
As I followed her into the tasteful little living room I realized that
complacency was working in my favor again. As only people who were allowed to
see Doc knew where he was; then anyone that knew where he was must be allowed to
see him.
I knew that my luck would end as soon as Betty announced me, so I walked
parallel to her as she entered the room. When she moved away towards an interior
door I bounded forward pushing her roughly aside and bursting through the
doorway into the room beyond.
Doc looked up from his desk and peered over his spectacles. "Ah Mr. Wise, I must
admit that your presence here is not completely unexpected, nor is it welcome."
Suddenly I was grabbed from behind, an arm wrapped around my throat, my right
wrist grabbed and forced up into the small of my back. I tried to struggle but
made no progress, my attacker seemed monstrously strong and determined. At first
I thought the goons had grabbed me but then I caught a glimpse of my reflection
in a wall mirror. Betty was holding me still as if I was a rag doll. My eyes
bulged as the headlock tightened, the reflection in the mirror looking like a
bizarre reenactment of a Stanton femdom wrestling picture.
"Please," I croaked, "I'm here to explain. You said once that if I helped you
with Penny you would owe me..."
Doc nodded and Betty's grip loosened just a little. Doc indicated a chair and I
felt myself being propelled towards it. Then I was pushed down and Betty's hands
rested hard on my shoulders. I knew I couldn't fight her. I wasn't going
anywhere without Doc's permission.
The old man checked a pocket watch. "You have three minutes before my next
client Mr. Wise." He looked up bemused, "or should that be Mr. Tash Kent?" He
lent forward. "I wanted you to raise the girl's value at auction by training her
to best display her assets. You failed to do that and resorted to trickery, that
was why I felt justified in voiding our agreement."
"No," I said, feeling that unnatural calm again, "our deal was that the girl
should go at a price that would insure her a good Master." I said looking him in
the eyes. "Obviously you had people in the auction, in which case you know that
Penny was at $90,000 before I bid. She was already out of risk at that time and
I fulfilled my part of our agreement. I believe that means you owe me $90,000.
I'll accept cash or cashiers check."
Doc laughed. "Let us suppose that all of this is true," he said, "then the girl
would have sold for ninety thousand dollars. I would have been happy, you would
have been paid and the girl would have gone to a good Master. So why did you
choose to jeopardize that by breaking Leibermann's own rules and going there
yourself. Why do something as stupid as bid on her?"
I looked down. "First," I said, "you will agree that at no time did you tell me
not to attend, nor did you say I wasn't to bid."
He nodded. "Perhaps."
"You will agree that if I hadn't been there the girl would still have sold for
ninety thousand dollars and that I fulfilled my part of our agreement."
Doc nodded. "Agreed."
"Then you still owe me the money," I said.
Doc laughed. "First, why did you endanger the operation, and why do you want
that money so urgently?"
I took a deep breath. "Because I want to own her," I said, "I want to be Penny's
Master, I want her to kneel before me, I want her to warm my bed at night. That
is why I bid at the auction, that is why I need the money now so that I can buy
her back from the woman that bought her."
I settled back, surprised at my own candidness. I'd always had problems
expressing my feelings, I'd somehow never managed to get the words right.
Doc looked at me. "How much are you going to pay?" he asked.
"One hundred and ninety thousand," I said.
"Is that a lot for you?"
I shrugged. "Just about everything I own," I said, "but that's not important it
I have her."
"Do you love her?"
I nodded. "Yes, I don't know how, it's only been a few days but somehow I just
don't want to loose her...."
"I told you Doc, inside that nerdy exterior beats the heart of a true romantic!"
I looked towards the doorway and the source of that familiar voice. There was my
boss, Joshua Leibermann with a smile so wide it looked medically dangerous.
I looked from him to Doc and back again. Both were smiling broadly. "I... I
don't understand?" I said.
Doc nodded to Betty. "Show him."
-----------;
There was a second door in the living room, one that led to a small space that
had once been a closet. Betty opened it so I could look inside. Penny sat naked,
strapped to a strong wooden chair. As we entered she turned towards me, eyes
twinkling and her mouth fighting to say something through a thick leather prod
gag.
"Ummppph" she said, "Umm Ummp fooo."
In front of Penny was what I thought at first was a dim glass window. As I got
closer I could see through it and into Doc's office. I blinked. The mirror in
the office, the one in which I'd watched my struggle with Betty was a two-way
mirror! I bent over Penny noticing for the first time a small earphone in her
left ear. Gingerly I extracted it, brought it to my own ear and was not
surprised to find that I could hear the conversation in the office next door.
I removed the gag. Penny looked up, her eyes twinkling. "Please Master," she
whispered, "can this girl serve you?"
I found myself laughing with relief. "Sure," I said, picking at the straps that
held her, "Once I find out what's going on!"
---------------------;
They told me in Doc's office. I sat in the same chair, this time with Penny
kneeling naked at my feet, while the two older men beamed at me like a pair of
Cheshire cats.
"What's going on?" I asked.
Joshua smiled. "I don't think I've introduced you yet to my niece Penny?" he
said smugly, "my cousin's girl? Remember I told you she was in town for the
holidays?"
I looked down at Penny, who smiled up and nodded happily.
"Your niece?" I asked, Penny looked nothing like any of Joshua's other
relatives.
He frowned. "Well, ok, my cousin's step daughter, his wife's from her first
marriage. Makes no difference family is family." He gave an expansive gesture.
"Boy like you needs to marry a good woman and settle down. A good solid personal
life is essential to a slaver. Trust me if you go on without a woman the stress
will kill you."
Doc smiled. "Last year Penny discovered that she had certain emotional needs,"
he said. "When she finally plucked up courage to confide in her family she found
them not as shocked as she first supposed." He paused. "Joshua thought the two
of you would make a great couple but he needed an excuse for the two of you to
spend a little quality time together. Then when it was clear the two of you had
developed feelings for each other he wanted to test them and so we thought out a
little drama."
I blinked. "And Katiyanna Ivannova?" I asked.
Doc smiled. "My assistant Kitten and her house slaves Maria and Beth." Doc
explained, "You must forgive her but she does love high camp."
"I don't know what to say," I said.
Penny looked up. "You don't need to say a word my Master," she said, nodding at
the mirror, "I saw and heard every word."
Doc smiled. "Good, good. Now why don't you two lovebirds work the rest of this
out at home," he said, "you can send Angelvice back in the morning. I'm sure
that the two of you can find some use for her tonight."
I just looked down at Penny and smiled.
