"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.
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