BDSM Library - The Marketing Mix

The Marketing Mix

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Synopsis: A PR agency takes on an extraordinary new account....
Introduction

Introduction

 

Long before Freddie Clegg recruited Larry as his Marketing Manager (see “Market Forces”) the Clegg organisation had another brush with the world of marketing professionals.

 

This story was originally (?2003?) posted on the forum at The House of Abductor (since closed), hence the references to this and the Secret Society of Kidnappers in this story. The logo used on The House of Abductor web site is referred to in the story. It’s reproduced here as an affectionate tribute to all the great writers that used to hang out at the House of Abductor:-

 

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Chapter 1 : A New Account

“We’re wanted in The Pit,” Joanna called across to Jessica as she dropped the telephone handset back into its cradle. “KB’s got some new account she wants to discuss.”

“Well I hope it doesn’t take too long,” Jessica complained, waving her fingers in a final attempt to get her nail varnish to dry. “I’ve got some serious shopping planned for lunch time.”

The Pit was the internal meeting room at BBB Public Relations. They often used it for brain storming sessions, trying to come up with new ideas that would win or keep accounts. BBB. stood for Barnaby, Berringer and Brace so, although Joanna and Jessica might have had other plans, a summons to a meeting with Karen Brace couldn’t be ignored.

“Thinking caps on, ladies,” Karen Brace smiled as Joanna and Jessica entered the Pit. “I need your ideas. We have a new account in the offing and it’s a bit of a challenge.”

Jessica and Joanna collapsed into two of the leather armchairs that furnished the Pit. Karen strode over to a flipchart. In her early forties with her hair starting to show streaks of grey that she did nothing to hide, Karen was a long time PR professional. She’d worked on some of the key accounts that had built BBB PR’s business but, in spite of the fact that she was one of the partners she still liked to get involved in the detail of winning new accounts and coming up with a good pitch. She may have worn a sober suit, dark, pin striped with a long skirt but she still had as much enthusiasm and drive as any of the younger members of her team. “Lets start with some word association,” she said. “Just give me your immediate reactions to this.” She turned the first blank page to reveal a single word, “Abduction”.

Joanna spluttered. “Are you serious?”

“Go with me on this, Jo,” Karen smiled. Joanna hated being called “Jo” but somehow she’d never managed to persuade Karen not to call her that. “Just come up with anything you think of. Come on, I’ll even write them up.”

“Well, O.K. but it seems weird to me. How about ‘kidnap’?”

“Good,” said Karen writing it up.

“Ransom,” said Jessica, “Hostage”.

“Fine,” said Karen.

“Criminal, illegal,” said Joanna

“Hijack,” from Jessica

“Violence, Thugs, Snatched,” said Joanna, “White Slaving, Eastern Potentates, Girls imprisoned, Drugged, Carried off, Captive”

“Thank you Jo, that’s fine,” Karen smiled at Joanna, pleased that she was obviously getting into the swing of it. Jessica looked across and noted that her friend seemed to be more than just joining in – she was looking a little flushed and her nipples were perking up against her dress.

Karen pressed on. “That’s a great start. Now I think you will agree with me that these are all fairly negative associations.”

“Unsurprising,” Jessica chipped in.

“True but that is just why the client wants us to suggest how they might overcome that. We have been approached by the House of Abductor – they’re a sort of umbrella organisation for the abduction industry…”

“It’s an industry?”

“Apparently so and more than most people realise. Anyway they have asked us to see what we can do to improve their image…..”

The door to the Pit burst open and in bounced a spike haired, long legged girl clutching a large portfolio case. “Hi, Suits,” she called, “thought you could use some creative thinking.”

Karen peered over her half moon spectacles. “Do join us, Michaela,” she said, “but just listen for a few minutes, please.”

Michaela Swift, or Mikki, was BBB. PR’s Creative Director – a talented designer that had a knack for coming up with the ideal visual approach for communicating ideas. She had been behind some of BBB’s most successful corporate logo and identity and she knew it. Always intolerant of the account staff she referred to as “Suits”, she was angling for a partnership – BBB&S had a much better ring to it she thought. Joanna smiled but fumed inside – how come she, the PR professional, was always “Jo” but this woman in her multi-coloured sweaters and thick tights was always referred to as Michaela.

“Sure, happy to help.”

“As I was saying,” Karen resumed, “House of Abductor have asked us to help improve the image of slaving and ransom taking and I thought that you two should have a crack at it. Michaela, I am sure they will need your input too once they’ve explored the problem a bit. You’ll find a full brief in these packs.” She handed a folder to each of the three.

Mikki took one look at the front of the folders. “If nothing else, they so need a new logo – I think I can definitely do something better than that rather retro, moustachioed, villain and his helpless captive. I mean – suspenders!”

Karen smiled. She was pleased that the team seemed to be getting engaged with the assignment. “I’ll let you get started. Give me a heads-up at the end of the week. By the way we’ll refer to the client as ‘THA’ around the office, please, we don’t want to alarm the staff – oh dear, you see - they do have an image problem. I guess you had better make sure you don’t leave those flip-chart sheets there, either.” With that she left Joanna, Jessica and Mikki to explore the briefing packs.

Back in her office Karen buzzed her PA. “Jane can you get Mr Clegg at THA on the line, please.”

“Yes, Ms Brace,” came the reply, as efficient as ever. Moments later the intercom buzzed again. “Mr Clegg for you.”

If Joanna and Jessica had been able to overhear the conversation they might have been a little concerned. From Karen’s side it went….

“Hallo, Mr Clegg. I thought you would like an update is it convenient to talk?” …………….. “I have spoken with two of our account execs as we agreed and they are working through the briefing pack now.” ………….. “Yes, that’s right.” …… “Yes.” …… “Yes, Joanna Wales and Jessica Ames – actually the Honourable Jessica Ames to be accurate.” ……. “Oh, yes, I definitely agree that it’s the best way for them to get to grips with the project. I assume you’ll take care of the ‘collections’ as I think you term it. Yes?” ……… “Fine. We’ll talk again soon. Oh, by the way I was right – Michaela our art director isn’t too keen on your logo.”

They would have been even more concerned if they had heard the other side of the conversation. The only problem was that Jane Ellis, eavesdropping as she so often did from idle curiosity, had.

Chapter 2 : A Woman’s Right To Choo’s

Joanna, Jessica and Michaela were exploring the briefing packs.

THA had provided an overview of their global operations - a network of franchise holders for THA who together were known as the Secret Society of Kidnappers – SSK for short. SSK franchisee’s could operate independently in their own markets or feed their captives through to one of a number of markets run by THA.

THA also provided training and professional consultancy services as well as running a highly effective internet site in which members could exchange views and experiences.

The problem was, however, clearly identified in the second document in the dossier which gave an overview of the legal position in the states where THA operated and in a further document that provided the results of market research into the consumer attitudes to slavery and abduction.

The final paper summarised THA’s objectives. Firstly they didn’t want to completely rehabilitate themselves in the public’s eyes – as they pointed out the premium prices that they were able to charge were mainly a result of the fact that their activities were illegal. No, their objective was more subtle. They needed to create a climate in which they weren’t actually legal but in which more and more use was made of their services. The problem, as the summary said, was that THA needed the same sort of successful programme that CMC - the Cannabis Marketing Consortium - had been able to mount in the 70’s.

Jessica was horrified by the matter-of-fact way in which the dossier laid out its case. “It’s horrible, these poor women are just carried off and put through who knows what.”

“I think you’ll find out exactly what if you run through Appendix 3,” Mikki grinned. “Come on it’s not the first time a seemingly anti-social business has tried to make use of PR – look at the tobacco industry. I think it will be really interesting to see what we can make of it. What do you think, Jo?”

“Mmm? What? Oh, yes. Yes I ‘m sure it will be.” Jo was already deep in Appendix 3. She was both shocked and disturbed by what she read. The accounts of the ways in which women were abducted, transported, sold and then kept as slaves were frightening but also held a curious fascination. The pictures showing rows of cages holding captives ready for transport, and slaves on a platform awaiting bids at an auction were particularly disturbing.

“So any initial thoughts?” Mikki asked. “I hate to admit it but this looks as if it needs more just than my talents. I could re-work their logo into something more up-to-date but maybe the retro look is the right one for this after all. Any re-work we do of the visual image will have to be part of the bigger scheme of things which you two need to go figure.”

Jessica dropped the briefing pack onto the table. “I don’t know. It’s just so hard to see any sort of upside apart from the benefits to THA and their clients. If we’re going to get any sort of lobbying programme going on their behalf we’ll have to find some sort of angle.”

“Yes, and it’s certainly not obvious what that might be.” Jo cut in. “I think we need some further research – I wonder if THA would let us visit some of their facilities? The clients’ views would be helpful too.”

“That’s an idea,” said Mikki, “ although I can see some difficulties in talking to clients. Still, let’s scribble some of this down. Step 1 further research – client motivations, drivers and views of the benefits; THA facilities and services; popular perceptions / misconceptions and the view of the man / woman in the street. Step 2 – review of the market – who do we need on our side as well as the client?”

“Right now I am more interested in Step 0,” said Jessica looking at her watch, “I have a lunch appointment with a large glass of chardonnay and a pair of Jimmy Choo’s that I absolutely have to have before I can deal with anything as difficult as this. See you later!”

“Oh, Jess, you’re impossible! At least, can you think about what we need to research the political stuff? I’ll think about the consumer end – OK?” Jo called to Jessica as she got to the door.

“Yes, fine, sure. I must go – let’s talk after lunch.”

Joanna sighed as her friend took off. Normally, Jessica was a hard working member of the team but the one down side of her wealthy family was that when Jessica felt the urge to shop there wasn’t any stopping her. The shoes would need a whole new outfit if Joanna was not mistaken. She didn’t expect to see Jessica back that afternoon.

“Well, it looks like we have a plan to get a plan at least. I’ll get KB to explore what contact we can have with THA or their clients,” said Mikki, gathering up her things.

Jo was left to clear up the debris of the meeting, folding up the flip chart pads, packing away the pens and tidying the meeting room. She felt she was being dumped on yet again.

Back at her desk she was thumbing through the briefing pack again. This had to be the strangest project she had ever been involved in.

It was only then that she suddenly thought, “Of course! It’s not real. This is just the sort of thing the Annual PR Awards do for their challenge of the year.” Last year the winning team had to come up with a marketing programme to promote Holland as the next venue for the Winter Olympics. It must start at about this time of the year. “This could be a real opportunity to make a name for myself,” she smiled and with that in mind she set to mapping out a campaign of research.

Chapter 3 : Jo’s Encounter of the Third Kind

Jo had a great afternoon. Jessica had not, as expected, returned, but, in spite of that, Jo had managed to map out a plan of action for the coming week. She’d already worked out a plan of action for the consumer focus groups with a whole series of questions. By close of play she felt she had earned an evening’s relaxation – a hot bath was high on the agenda.

That evening in her apartment, not long after getting back from the office, and while she was enjoying a relaxing glass of wine Jo heard her doorbell ring. Funny, she thought, I’m not expecting anyone tonight. As she walked down the hall of her apartment she heard a voice she recognised calling from outside. “Jo, quick, it’s me I must speak to you.” It was Jane Ellis, Karen’s secretary and PA. As Jo opened the door she could see Jane looked as though she had run all the way to her home from the office. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here – I couldn’t get away this afternoon and then I tried your mobile but it was off and I was so worried….”

“Look, come in.” Jo ushered the flustered PA inside. “Sit down, relax, what on earth is the problem.”

“Well, its something I overheard today, Ms Brace is obviously plotting something horrible and it involves you and Jessica and some kidnappers and ….”

Jo laughed. “Oh, goodness. Don’t worry about that, we know all about it.”

“You do?” Jane was incredulous.

“Yes, but its not what it seems. In fact, I think it’s all a stunt to do with the PR Awards next month. Jessica, myself and Mikki are doing a project for Karen on ….” She was cut off by the doorbell ringing again. “Oh, who’s that? Stay there Jane, at least you deserve a drink for your concerns. Pour yourself one while I get this.”

At her front door Jo checked her caller out through the security spy hole she had. A youngish man in a UPS uniform stood clutching a parcel. “Urgent delivery from BBB PR for Joanna Wales,” he called out. Jo opened the door.

“That’s me,” said Joanna, taking the parcel from him and signing the receipt he put in front of her. She shut the door and took the parcel into her lounge.

Jane was sitting on the couch. “Presents?” she asked.

“No, it’s from the office.”

“That’s odd, I didn’t ask for anything to be sent out so it hasn’t come from KB.”

“Oh well, let’s have a look.” Jo tore open the brown wrapping and lifted the lid of the cardboard box she found in side. As she did there was a quiet “whoof” sound and a stream of pale gas spread out from the box. “What on earth…” began Jo but her words were cut off as the gas took effect and she and Jane slumped into unconsciousness.

Jo’s front door opened and into the flat stepped the delivery man, now wearing a gas mask and holding a small detector. He pushed his delivery cart into the apartment, left it by the door and made his way towards the lounge door through which he could see Jo, sprawled on the floor. He noted that the reading on the meter had fallen below the danger level and eased off his mask. He pulled out a walkie-talkie and hit the transmit button. “It’s Jack. That worked,” he said, “she’s out cold. The bleeper went off as soon as the canister detonated and the passkey worked fine. I’ll get her parcelled up and we can – oh shit, there’s two of them!” With all his attention on his target he had only just noticed the collapsed form of Jane on the couch. “No, I’d no idea. No, I haven’t a clue. Yes, OK.”

Jack set to securing Jo with the hand and ankle cuffs he had brought with him. He followed up with a ball gag, pushing the ball between her teeth and strapping the gag firmly in place.

For the other girl, he would just have to improvise. He didn’t have too long to get Joanna out of there so he had to be quick. He pulled off her shoes, pushed her skirt up to her waist and dragged her tights off. Ripping them in half at the crotch gave him a length to fix her wrists with and another for her ankles. The urgent problem solved, he went in search of a gag. Jo’s kitchen provided the answer. Balanced on the washing machine was a laundry basket filled with clothes Jo had meant to wash that morning. Jack grabbed a pair of socks that were sitting on the top and pulled one of Jo’s blouses from the pile as well. Heading back to the lounge he crammed the socks into Jane’s mouth and ripped a sleeve from the blouse, knotting it in the middle before tying it to keep the socks in place.

With both girls secured, Jack checked out the lounge. He searched the two handbags he found on the table. One was obviously Joanna’s – he found a couple of credit cards in her name in the first bag he picked up. It had her mobile phone in as well so he didn’t have to look further for that – it was needed later. The other bag had credit cards in the name of Jane Ellis – that meant nothing to him but with some more searching he found a security pass for the Watson Building with Jane’s photo and her employer marked as BBB PR.

He picked up his radio again. “Hi, its Jack. All OK here. I’ve got an ID on the second girl….. Jane Ellis – she’s from BBB PR too. ……Yes, I can probably get both in the trolley. …… OK, you’re the boss. I’ll bring both of them in.”

Jack picked up Jane and carried her over his shoulder down the hall. She fitted into the delivery trolley without trouble. Joanna’s unconscious and helpless form followed. He tossed in Jane’s shoes, the girl’s handbags and the remains of their surprise parcel as well. The cart had really been intended only to carry one victim but by piling a few packages on top of Joanna she was effectively hidden. Jack left the flat with the trolley, took the service elevator to the car park and had his victims inside the waiting van within a few minutes. Unloading the two girls, Jack made sure they were both tightly strapped down to the benches in the back of the van, checked that their gags were still securely in place, climbed into the cab and drove off.

They were well on their way before they recovered consciousness. Each was horrified first to realise their situation and then to see the other trussed, gagged and strapped down on the opposite bench. Unable to move or make a sound they could only wait until they arrived at their destination.

 

© 2007 Freddie Clegg

Download PDF copies of my other stories at my Yahoo Group :

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/freddies_tales/

 

 

Introduction

Chapter 4 : Jessica in Jeopardy

Jessica was sitting at the bar in Casey’s restaurant waiting for Jo when the message bleep went off on her mobile phone. The message was from Jo and intriguing: “MEET IN CAR PARK NOW – MUST SHOW U – VITAL 4 OUR THA PROJXS – J”. Jessica knocked back her vodka and tonic picked up her jacket and headed for the door that lead to the car park.

Outside there was no sign of Joanna although her car was parked on the far side of the car park next to a white van. Jessica walked over to it, calling out, “Jo, Jo, where are you?”

As she drew level with the back of the van her assailant struck. She was dragged from her feet backward into the van, a gloved hand over her mouth stifling any cry. The doors of the van slammed shut as she was pushed down on to the floor. The motor started and the van was moving out of the car park before she caught her first sight of the two masked men that had grabbed her.

A wad of cloth was jammed into her mouth as she struggled on the floor of the van. Tape was pulled across her mouth while her arms were held pinioned behind her. She felt more tape being strapped around her wrists and then her knees and ankles. The two men finished their work by blindfolding her with more tape, pushing her down on the floor of the van.

She was determined to try and remember as much as she could about the attack. She had already lost track of where the van could possibly be going but she might hear something as they sped along. There had been two of them, both wearing ski masks, both wearing rubber surgical gloves. One had been taller than her the other about her height. What else? Dark clothing, nothing distinctive.

The van hit a bump. “Hey, slow down,” called one of her attackers. “No need to rush, the cargo is quite comfortable back here.”

Jessica, grunted through her gag in protest; comfortable she wasn’t.

“Now, now, darling. Don’t get excited.” Was that a London accent, Jessica thought? “You keep nice and quiet – that way we stay calm and you don’t run the risk of being hurt. Understand?”

Jessica grunted again and nodded.

“Good. Daddy’s going to pay much more if you ain’t hurt, so keep up the good behaviour.”

As the van sped on, Jessica tried to work out what was going on. It sounded as though she had been snatched for ransom. Her father was rich it was true but she had never thought that was a cause to take any extra care. Of course this could have something to do with that dreadful THA organisation – wasn’t this just what they did? And what did Joanna have to do with this- it had been her text message that had lured her into this trap, treacherous bitch!

She kept on listening for clues as to where she might be going but could make sense of nothing she heard. They obviously had pulled on to a motorway at some point – they had driven at speed without stopping for a while. Then they had come off onto another road which had seemed to be one roundabout after another. Then there was a slower stretch. Then the van had stopped for a moment – traffic lights, she thought – before moving off at speed again. After who knows how long, she felt the van slow and take a sharp left turn. She heard the crunch of gravel under the van’s wheels and then it stopped.

Her captor spoke again. “Here we are, darling, journey’s end.” She felt his hands on her legs and tried to struggle away from him. He ignored her efforts and she felt herself lifted up and swung over his shoulder. Trying to kick out with her feet did no good and her muffled cries for help from behind her gag just resulted in advice from her captor that no one was around to hear but him and he knew what was going on anyway so why not keep quiet?

She felt warm air as she was carried inside a building, heard a heavy door slam shut behind them. They went down steps, 10, 20, 30, turning a corner every dozen or so, two more heavy doors and then they stopped. She was put down on her feet. Her captor still held her - with her ankles still bound she would have fallen to the floor.

Then a woman’s voice… “Excellent, she seems in good shape. No difficulties, I take it. Well done gentlemen. Just sit her down and take that blindfold off.”

Chapter 5 : Two Girls and Four “P’s”

The van carrying Joanna and Jane pulled up. Jack got into the back of the van and un-strapped each of his captives from the benches. He sat them up and freed their ankles and legs. “Come on girls,” he said pointing a pistol at them, “time to go walkies. We’ve got a reception committee for you.”

The two struggled to their feet unsteadily as a result of the effect of the gas and the fact that they had been strapped immobile for some time.

Jack rapped three times on the back doors of the van and they swung open. The girls were helped out of the van by a tall, dark man who said nothing. They found themselves in a large warehouse-like building, there were no windows and the doors had been shut behind the van after it entered. They still had no idea where they might be.

“Let’s get them inside,” said Jack, grabbing Joanna by the arm. “Come on, move!” he ordered, prodding the gun against her ribs. The other man pulled Jane along with him and the two of them were hustled through a door at one end of the warehouse, along a corridor and through another door that brought them into a brightly lit but sparsely furnished room.

At the far end stood a man in his early fifties, bespectacled, balding, moustachioed and slightly overweight. Dressed in a sober suit with a pale blue shirt and navy blue silk tie, he looked like a successful business man rather than any sort of criminal. “Do, come in ladies, do. Jack, Norris, please make our guest comfortable down here and don’t be rougher than you have to, I suspect that they have had a sufficiently uncomfortable time already.”

Joanna and Jane were pushed down to chairs in front of their host.

“Now, you will be Joanna Wales, I am sure. And you, will be Jane Ellis, personal assistant and secretary to Ms Brace. Am I right?” The two girls nodded, grunting through their gags.

“Oh, goodness. I am sorry, I had quite forgotten. Jack, these ladies are quite unable to speak – could you please remove their gags. Thank you.”

Jack stepped forward, and unbuckled the ball gag that stuffed Jo’s mouth. Jo coughed and spluttered but was glad to be free of the gag. Jane’s gag gave more problems – he had to cut the torn sleeve he’d knotted across her mouth but soon she too was able to speak again.

“Why are we here?” : “Who are you?” : “What do you want?” : “You must let us go!” : “You’ve no right to do this!” The two girls bombarded their captors with questions and shouts. But the men just stood their smiling.

“Goodness,” said their host. “So many questions. Let me answer as many as I can. We like our guests to understand as much as possible of what is going on. Well, Joanna, as you may have guessed you are here as a result of your project on THA. Of course that was a slight subterfuge but nevertheless you are here. Jane, I am sorry but you were very much in the wrong place at the right time. You weren’t originally planned for this collection but it would have been most unwise to leave you behind and, in any case, I do have a role for you in our activities.”

“Oh, I am sorry – I didn’t introduce myself. My name is Clegg, my colleagues call me Freddie. You will know me as ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’ but we can cover all that later.”

“Now to explain our purpose in bringing you here. As Joanna will know we are an organisation that specialises in abductions. These can be for a number of purposes but the most common is for the collection of slaves for sale on to wealthy owners in other countries where it is easier to keep a stable of women than it is here. You two are lucky enough to be joining our summer collection and after some initial preparation here you will be ready for the auction that we have planned later this week.”

“This is barbarous,” Joanna interrupted.

“Do you know, you are exactly correct. We have learned many of our methods from the Barbary Coast pirates. However, please do not concern yourself with the origins of our activities, I suspect you will have quite enough to occupy you without worrying about that. Also, please restrict your comments to remarks unlikely to antagonise me – I won’t think twice about having your pretty mouth filled up again.”

“Now to get back to matters in hand. Firstly, yourselves. You are both the type of girl that attracts a good price at our auctions. All the money is in the Middle East these days, of course, and there is still a taste for the well mannered, English, middle class, girl there. Both of you obviously know how to dress well – I understand Ms Ellis that the fact that you are without both shoes and hose is no fault of your own. You both are evidently reasonably fit and fortunately neither of you has engaged in any of these ‘self-defence’ classes that make our job more risky. You should fetch a good price, Wales, nicely proportioned, well spoken when you watch your tongue, and, I suspect, sexually responsive given the right, shall we say, incentives. Ellis, I would rate you much the same, plus of course blonde hair always goes down well. Oh, boys, please check that she’s genuine in that respect. It’s always important to make sure the collar and cuffs match.”

“How dare you….” began Jane but Clegg cut her off.

“No matter, we needn’t worry right now, it’s just so that we can get the catalogue details right. Please do try to cooperate – we have a great deal to do and it won’t help if you keep obstructing us.”

Clegg smiled. “Well, Ms Ellis, let’s start with you. My associates here will take you off to get you started on our plans for you. I am rather afraid that it will involve some discomfort and embarrassment but I am sure you will be able cope with it. Gentlemen – if you could take Ms Ellis away, thank you. I’ll stop by to see how you are getting on later.”

Jack stepped forward and grabbed Jane by her arm. “Come along, now, don’t make a fuss. We can always gag you again.” She left with them quietly.

“Now then, Ms Wales, I think it is time that you and I got better acquainted.” Clegg sat down immediately opposite the helpless PR executive.

“I can’t think of anything I’d like to do less,” Joanna, gave a humourless smile.

“Well, of course, that’s understandable but never mind. In this, as in so much in your future, you do not really have any choice. Now let me offer a few words of explanation. As you may have surmised, you are here as a result of the involvement of our two companies. Your Ms Brace was keen to have us provide you with a taste of what life is like for those that encounter us and so…”

“So this is just a way of helping us with our research is it?”

“Oh, no. I am sorry. That will have confused you. I think that was Ms Brace’s idea – she thought it would give you first hand knowledge. I have to confess we have taken advantage of her in that respect. It’s not often we have so much cooperation in collecting someone like yourself and it was just too much of a temptation to ignore.”

“And why am I here? Surely you don’t really sell people?”

“Why ever not? There’s a market. We identified a product and a way to supply the market. You’re in marketing, you should understand. We have to worry about our marketing mix the same as any enterprise. It’s the four “P’s” isn’t it, product, place, promotion and, er,..”

“Price,” Joanna interjected – immediately feeling stupid for joining in the lunatic conversation.

“Thank you, yes. I can see now why I consulted, Ms Brace’s agency. Well, you see, now ‘Product’ – that’s young ladies like yourself usually required for sexual or other personal services.” Joanna shivered at the prospect. “The there’s ’Place’ – well our customers can come from anywhere in the world so an important part of our ‘mix’ is access to the network of collection points, sales outlets and suitable transport systems. ‘Promotion’ – more difficult – we can hardly put adverts on TV can we? This is probably our most difficult area although the Internet is providing a useful channel for us. And finally as you so rightly say ‘Price’. Fortunately the markets are buoyant right now and prices are holding up well. That means we don’t have too many pressures on our costs so we can invest in improved research and new collection methods. You see its all pretty much like any other business, you just have to manage the marketing mix.”

“Except, of course, it’s illegal and, immoral.”

Clegg gave a quiet sigh. It was hard to see how the conversation was going to move forward if she kept bringing in these irrelevancies. A moment later, a lithe, dark haired woman appeared. “Ah,” said Clegg, “Ms. Wales, I don’t think you have met my trusted associate. Eloise, this is Joanna Wales, a colleague of young Ms Ellis.”

“Whose clothes you are wearing…” cut in Joanna.

Elly smiled, “Mmm, yes. Well, she didn’t seem to need them and we seem to be having such a business-like day. Since it’s not often we have guests that come in wearing designer labels I thought I should maybe try these instead of my usual jeans. What do you think?”

Clegg approved. Elly was slim but being slightly taller than Jane she carried the long jacket and the short pleated skirt rather better than Karen’s secretary had. She should strictly have fastened the blouse right to the throat for a real executive look but nevertheless the overall effect was appealing.

Joanna wasn’t convinced. “I think you’ll find that in most offices it’s considered slutty to wear a black bra under a white blouse.”

Clegg sighed again, that wouldn’t help.

Elly rounded on Joanna. “You’ll find out about slutty soon enough and by the end of this week-end you’ll be glad of any stitch of clothing whatever colour it is.“ She turned to Clegg, “Can I take this one to join her friend now?”

“Yes, I have finished with her for now. I fear our conversation was not progressing very well. You will need to use a measure of persuasion on her I am sure. Just don’t damage her.”

“Oh, no I won’t. Least not so it shows.” Elly grabbed a hank of Joanna’s hair and pulled her to her feet. “Come along, fashion guru, let’s get you out of that dress.” She hustled the trussed Joanna out of the room but as they left she hissed in her ear, “and before you go crying ‘slut’, you should make sure your nipples aren’t sticking out like hat pegs, if I were you.”

Joanna whimpered. She’d been terrified by the whole experience but she had also found it greatly arousing. Somehow the whole scenario played to her deepest inner drives and now Elly had noticed.

Once outside in the corridor, Elly pushed Joanna back against the wall. “You’re really hot for this aren’t you?” she smiled. “We’re going to have so much fun.” Elly reached forward and gripped Jo’s left nipple tightly squeezing it until Jo whimpered again. “Now you’re going to do just what you’re told, which you’ll really like and I’ll get off on too. Understand?”

Jo nodded but said nothing.

“I said, did you understand?” Elly barked.

“Oh, mm, yes.”

“I think you can do better than that can’t you. I’m betting you know how this is played. Let’s try again. Do you understand?”

“Mnn,” Jo whimpered again. “Yes, yes Mistress,” she said, huskily, bowing her head.

“I thought you’d got the idea,” Elly smiled, “now let’s carry on down stairs.” She hustled her captive away.

Chapter 6 : Art Collection

Mikki sat staring at her PC. It was evidently going to be one of those days when the creative juices resolutely refused to flow. She hadn’t been able to talk to either Jo or Jessica about THA and on top of that Karen had foisted the new trainee on her. Fresh out of college and eager to please, Beth Dixon was sitting in the outer office waiting with all the rapt attention of a young Labrador dog. Mikki just found her a distraction. Plus she hated being called "Ms. Swift" and Beth had resolutely refused to respond to invites to use her first name, claiming that she felt more comfortable being formal in the workplace. Po-faced and preppy was Mikki’s analysis, another recruit for the Suits. Still if it kept Karen happy…

“I’m going down to the gym for an hour and then I’m going to call it a day,” Mikki called to Beth.

“OK, Ms Swift, Beth replied. I’ll just finish checking these proofs and then I’ll set up the photo portfolios for you to review in the morning.”

“Thanks, Beth” Mikki said. Too bloody efficient by half, she thought.

Mikki grabbed her sports bag and headed off for the gym. One of the benefits of working at BBB was that they all got the use of the gym in the basement of the
Watson Building where their offices were. It was always quiet at this time of day and when she got down there she had the gym to herself. She changed into her exercise gear; shorts, a pair of battered trainers, and an old running vest. For Mikki, the gym was a chance to burn off some of the frustrations of the day – she didn’t have much time for designer jogging outfits. When she got back into the exercise room she set to her regular circuit; a few warm up exercises; twenty minutes on the running machine, ten on the rower and twenty on the cycle.

About half way through two others came in to join her. She didn’t recognise them but that wasn’t unusual, there were always new people coming and going from the twenty or so businesses that tenanted the Watson Building. They looked an ill matched pair. One was quite a young woman – Mikki guessed 22 or 23 while the other was a slightly overweight, balding man in his early fifties. She didn’t look as if she needed the exercise but he definitely did.

She put her head down and got on with burning off the last ten minutes of her cycle programme. Pleased that she wasn’t more out of breath than she was, she stepped of the cycle, filled a paper cup from the water cooler and downed it. “That’s my lot,” she called to the other two who did little more than grunt in reply. Sociable pair, Mikki thought, grabbed a towel and headed off to one of the shower cubicles.

She stripped off her kit and dumped it on the bench outside. With so few people around she wasn’t worried that anyone was likely to steal anything – it was all pretty old anyway. Grabbing the shampoo and body wash from her sports bag she turned the shower to full and stepped under it, luxuriating in the steaming hot water and she sluiced off the sweat of her exercise session.

She didn’t hear the other two come into the shower room.

In fact, she didn’t realise anything was untoward until the shower curtain was ripped back and the woman who had been in the gym earlier lunged at her. She went to scream but her cry was cut off as her assailant’s dive pushed her back against the wall of the shower, cracking her head on the tiled wall and stunning her. Things started moving in slow motion for Mikki. She saw a hand come up to her face, felt a pad pressed over her nose and mouth, smelt a sickly, sweet, odour as she inhaled the chloroform, tried to gasp for breath but only succeeded in sucking in more of the chemical that was robbing her of consciousness. And then, nothing.

Elly turned off the stream of water, pushed her now soaked black hair back from her face, and slid Mikki’s naked and unconscious body from the shower. Clegg was ready to help secure their victim. Turning over her gym kit he pushed her socks into her mouth before tying her sports bra across her mouth to keep the gag in place. The laces from her trainers served to tie her wrists and the strap from her bag was lashed around her ankles. It wasn’t ideal but it would do and she was going to be out for quite a while any way.

Clegg grabbed Miki’s office clothes from her locker and stuffed them into her sports bag.

With Mikki helplessly tied, the two of them carried her out of the door that lead from the rear of the changing rooms directly into the car park. Clegg’s car was backed up close to the door and Mikki was bundled into the boot, together with her sports bag. The car sped off.

They rounded the front of the Watson Building as a young, blonde haired girl skipped down the front steps, clutching a briefcase. “Oh, look,” said Elly, “it’s Beth Dixon – we’ve finished with her input on this project now, shall we tidy up this loose end?”

“Err, no, not just now I think,” Clegg replied swinging the car around the corner of the building and on towards the motorway. “Plenty of time for that later and I don’t want us to be distracted from the package in the boot – it’s a long time since I had an ex-art student in the back of my car and I want to make the most of it.”


“Oh, gosh, I’d forgotten,” said Elly. “That was your first wasn’t it? What was her name, now. Oh yes. Miranda.”

“That’s right, a long time ago now but I guess you always remember the first. Still, no time for nostalgia. Let’s get Mikki back to the ranch.

 

© 2007 Freddie Clegg

Download PDF copies of my other stories at my Yahoo Group :

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/freddies_tales/

 

 

Introduction

Chapter 7 : Lady In Dread

Jessica was pushed down on to a chair. “There you go, love,” the voice of the man from the back of the van. “I’m, going to take your blindfold off, now so sit still.” He started to ease way the tape. Jessica blinked as she opened her eyes. She stared around the room. It was perhaps ten feet square with a steel frame bed along one wall. She had been sat on a chair beside the bed. In front of her were, she assumed, her two captors and the woman that had greeted them.

All three wore black one piece suits and rubber gloves but, on their faces, the three wore ridiculous masks – she was being held to ransom by the Simpsons. Marge, Homer and Bart stood confronting her. The woman spoke. “Hello, Jessica. Oh, I am sorry perhaps I should be formal I suppose – Lady Jessica. In case you haven’t worked it out yet, we will be keeping you here until your father, the Duke, can be convinced to contribute a small proportion of his wealth to ensure your continued well-being.”

Jessica tried to protest at her treatment but her gag only allowed incomprehensible grunts.

“Marge” spoke again. “Please don’t try to chat, you’ll only get frustrated and we’ll just be irritated by the noise. My colleagues here will make sure you are secure for now and we’ll come back and see to you later.”

“Bart” and “Homer” took some lengths of rope and set to making sure that Jessica was securely tied to the chair. Homer was busy roping her ankles and legs to the chair. Bart particularly seemed to enjoy pulling the rope as tightly as possible, forcing a grunt from Jessica as he jerked the rope tight across her chest and then around her arms, fixing her bolt upright in the chair. He giggled as she tried to pull against his efforts. “No, no, no, your ladyship. That won’t do at all. We must be sure you’re safe and sound and that means these must be tight.” He jerked the rope again. “Hey, nice tits, by the way.”

Homer checked her gag. “This was a real good job. She’s not going to be chatting for a while. OK honey, you stay here now and we’ll see you soon.” With that the two men left the room. Jessica heard them lock the door behind them. She began to take stock of her situation – must keep track of the details, try to collect any clues. The room was tiny and completely bare apart from the chair and the bed. There was no window, no covering on the concrete floor, no keyhole or handle on the inside of the door, but at least they had taken her blindfold off. Then the one light went out, plunging Jessica into pitch-blackness.

She had no idea how long she sat there. She tried to loosen her ropes but to no avail.

In reality they left her alone for only a few hours but by the time the light came on again and Bart and Marge returned she was aching from being held in one position for so long. Bart was carrying a tray. Marge spoke, ”Do you want a drink?”

Jessica nodded.

“OK, we’re going to take the gag off but no noise or it goes straight back in. Understand?”

Another nod.

Bart picked at the tape and pulled it away from her mouth. Jessica pushed the wad of cloth from between her teeth, spitting it out on the floor of her cell. She kept quiet.

“Very good.” Marge again. “Give her a drink, Bart.”

Bart held the cup where Jessica could reach the straw, She sucked greedily at it – it was just water but so welcome after hours with her mouth packed with the gag.

“Mmm, thank you,” she gasped.

“That’s OK,” Marge came back. “You can do us a favour now. Daddy’s not too sure he wants to pay up and we think he needs convincing. We’d like you to record a little message for him”

“No, no, I won’t.”

“Don’t be stupid. The sooner we get the ransom, the sooner you can be free. You’re in PR after all – you should understand the value of persuasive advertising. Have you got any better ideas? Maybe you’d like us to issue a press release: ‘Kidnap Enterprises are pleased to announce that they have recently acquired Lady Jessica Ames’ – I don’t think so,”

Bart put the cup down and pushed a small dictation machine in front of Jessica’s mouth. “Read this,” he snarled holding a paper up.

“Better do it, your ladyship. Otherwise we just put the gag back and come back in another few hours to try again.”

“OK, OK.” Bart pushed the record button as Jessica started reading from the paper. “Daddy, its me Jessica. I am safe but you must do as they say. Pay the money, please.”

Bart clicked the machine off. “Perfect, darling. First take. Now we need a little photo to go with the tape. Just a couple of shots of you with today’s paper so Daddy knows this is all happening live. OK?”

Jessica could hardly object as they propped a copy of that day’s paper on her lap and took the photographs.

“Thank you so much for your cooperation,” Marge said. “Get those off to his lordship, Bart, and we’ll see if that speeds things up.

Chapter 8 : Mikki in the Mix

Clegg and Elly opened the boot of the car. Mikki was just starting to recover consciousness and as boot lid lifted she gave out as loud a scream as her gag allowed. She kicked and wriggled as Clegg and Elly lifted her out of the car and dumped her down on the hard, cold concrete floor of the garage.

“Please don’t try to scream any more,” Freddie advised her. “There’s no one to hear you and it only irritates us. If you keep quiet, Elly here will remove your gag. O.K.?”

Mikki stared up at her captors and nodded slowly. Elly bent down and pulled the sports bra from her mouth and prised the now sodden socks out too. As the gag came clear Mikki gave a deep retch and vomited clear across the garage floor.

“I hate using chloroform,” Elly grimaced at the stench of vomit and the drug. “Its always the same.”

Mikki was still retching and in her struggles had rolled across the floor so that her naked body was spattered with vomit. “You had better clean her up. Get her settled down and I’ll see her later. I‘ll get a slave sent across to clean up in here.” Clegg said, leaving Elly to untie Mikki’s ankles so she could drag her off to a shower.

Mikki staggered groggily across the garage under Elly’s direction and found herself a few moments later back under a stream of water that was both cleansing and reviving.

Satisfied that her captive was clean again, Elly dragged her from the shower, towelled her dry and swapped the trainer lace tie from her wrists for a pair of handcuffs. Elly wrapped the towel around Mikki’s body.

“Uh, thanks,” said Mikki.

“That’s OK. If you keep behaving we’ll make sure you’re looked after.”

“But why have you done this? Why am I here?”

“Sorry, no questions. In fact, no talking really. Do you know what this is?” Elly held up a ball gag.

“Uh, huh,” Mikki answered.

“Sorry but I need to put it on you.” Elly apologised.

“But you say no one can hear me, you don’t need to do this.”

“Sorry,” said Elly again. “It’s easier if you don’t resist.” Mikki shrugged her shoulders resignedly and opened her mouth. Elly eased the ball between Mikki’s teeth and then buckled the strap firmly behind her head. “Good, you’ll find it easier this way.”

The ball gag was followed by a leather collar and leash. Elly lead her captive out from the garage along a corridor, down a series of steps and into one of the small rooms they used for holding captives. She sat Mikki on the bed that lay along one wall, removed the leash and linked her collar to the bed rail with a short length of chain that meant Mikki could sit up or lay down but could not move around the room.

“Are you all right?” Elly asked.

Mikki scowled – how all right was she supposed to be –naked except for a bath towel wrapped loosely around her, gagged with ball that was stretching her mouth wider than she would have believed possible, handcuffed and chained by her neck to a bed in a locked room, heaven knows where.

“OK. Well, you’ll stay here for a while. Someone will be back to see you later.” With that Elly left the room. Mikki heard the door slam behind her followed by the clunk of a lock sliding shut. She lay down on the bed and sobbed.

It was perhaps another hour before she heard a key in the locks of the cell door. She had half hoped that Elly was returning but when the door swung back, it was Clegg that stood there. He stood just looking at her without speaking for some time until finally he approached the bed and sat on it beside her.

“Michaela,” he began. “It’s good to have you here. I was telling Eloise that I knew a girl a lot like you a few years ago. She was an art student. We found it hard to talk about things,” he stroked a finger across the gag that filled Mikki’s mouth. She was becoming increasingly disturbed by Clegg’s conversation. “and it didn’t work out. I sometimes wonder if things would be different now? Times have changed, people move on. I remember her wearing a towel wrapped around herself, just like this. “ He ran his hands across her breasts, fondling them through the bath towel that still wrapped her. She shuddered. “Still never mind. I hope you are comfortable” Mikki grunted in exasperation, “or as comfortable as circumstances allow.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small box. As he opened it she saw that it contained a hypodermic needle. She tried to scream through the gag, terrified of what the injection would mean, she tried to wriggle away from him but the tether at her neck restrained her.

“I am sorry about this,” he said as he rolled her onto her front. She struggled but was pushed down against the bed by his weight as he gripped her arm. “It will just put you out for a while, don’t worry.” She struggled again and then felt the prick of the needle and the strange sense of the drug being driven into her vein. She passed out.

Chapter 9 : Market Forces

Elly looked down at the two captives in the small cell that was being used to hold them.

Jane was lying where Elly had left her earlier, stripped to her underwear and hog-tied on the floor of the room. She had evidently been struggling to free herself but to no effect. Elly prided herself on her rope work and she’d have been surprised if Jane had been able to loosen it at all. The combination of ropes around her elbows, ropes around her thighs and a harness of rope around her chest together with the standard ankle to wrist hog-tie made it almost impossible for the victim to move. All Jane seemed to have achieved was to knock over the chair in one corner of her cell and to give herself a few scrapes on her knees. She hadn’t been able to free herself of her gag, either. It wasn’t the wad of cloth that was a problem so much as the rope that held it there, tied tightly around her head, and tied back to the rope at her shoulders, arching her head backwards. Each attempt to relive the pressure on her wrists added to the strain on her ankles and on the gag. There was no comfort to be had.

Joanna was on her knees, where Elly had ordered her, still wearing the dress she had on when she was snatched from her flat and still wearing the handcuffs that Jack had used to secure her. Elly grinned at the submissive way in which Jo held her head down. “You’re going to be a real good slave, aren’t you Miss Joanna Wales?”

“Yes, Mistress,” came the reply.

“So we can have some fun with you and Jane here can’t we?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Joanna, replied as Jane grunted in protest at the suggestion.

“That way we’ll know you’ll make a good price and go to a new owner that will value you.” Both girls gave a whimper, Jane’s more muffled than Jo’s. “Now, Joanna, I am going to free you but you will continue to behave. If you do not I will truss you up like your friend here and I don’t think you’ll like that for more than the first hour or so. Understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Very good.” Elly bent down and unlocked the cuffs that held Joanna’s wrists. “Now, slut, get out of that dress.”

“Please, Mistress, must I?”

“You’ll learn not to question me in time. I want to see how well your body looks, that’s an important part of your value to us – not politically correct I know but nevertheless the case. Now please do as I ask.”

Joanna reluctantly unzipped her dress and let it fall from her shoulders around her feet.

“Take the rest off please.”

Shoes, tights, bra and pants followed the dress to make a pile on the floor until Jo was naked.

“Good. Now put your hands behind your head.” As Jo did so, Elly approached her examining her body in great detail; running her hands over her shoulders and breasts, pulling open her mouth and checking her teeth, parting her legs to examine her cunt and her buttocks to check her anus. Jo shuddered with each touch but could not conceal the excitement she felt as Elly explored her body. Elly couldn’t resist tweaking a nipple as she finished her examination. Jo gave a little cry of pain. “Not bad,” she concluded. “You could do with a little fitness programme to tone things up but we can arrange that. There are plenty of buyers that like a little flesh on their property so a few pounds extra won’t hurt.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“Don’t get cocky, slave. Oh, and one thing more. I couldn’t help but notice when examining your cunt just now that you appear to be somewhat sexually aroused. Is that the case?”

Joanna, blushed and nodded silently.

“Well then, which of us is the slut now, I wonder?”

“Me, Mistress,” Joanna concurred.

“Yes, and after you were so insolent to me as well.”

“I am sorry Mistress, I will try to make amends.”

“Well we’ll see. For now it will be sufficient if you can just chain yourself up. I don’t see why I should make the effort.”

“No, Mistress. What should I do?”

Elly waved a hand to a ball gag, ankle harness and handcuffs lying on the table. “Put those on and be quick about it!”

“Yes, Mistress,” said Joanna and began to obey.

“I think you’ll find it easiest if you put the gag on before the handcuffs,” grinned Elly as Jo began to fumble with her bonds. “And make sure you strap that ball in good and tight - You won’t like it if I have to pull it any tighter. Now hurry up with that, I need to find my strap-on so we can start the next phase of your training.”

Now with the ball wedged firmly into her mouth all Jo could do was to whimper.

 

© 2007 Freddie Clegg

Download PDF copies of my other stories at my Yahoo Group :

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/freddies_tales/

 

 

Introduction

Chapter 10 : Brace and Bitch

It was Friday, less than five days from when Karen had called the team together in her office. Now she sat in the boardroom of the THA headquarters with Clegg, drinking coffee and looking out at the view across the bay.

In preparation for the events of the day she had exchanged her normal sober suit for something rather more dramatic – a leather bustier top with toreador pants and elbow length gloves, all in black; around her neck she wore a leather collar adorned with steel spikes that were almost as long and sharp as the heels of her shoes.

She and Clegg were exchanging pleasantries. “I must say how fetching you look in that outfit, Ms Brace. A very agreeable combination of the stylish and the exotic.”

Brace thought Clegg’s compliments oily but he was the client after all. She smiled back. “Well thank you Mr Clegg. I thought I should wear something appropriate. I felt the least I could do would be to look the part. I must say I do think your team has handled this exceptionally well. Your help has really been invaluable.”

“That’s quite all right. We want to have the right contract with the right people so it is really in our interest to make sure your team really understands what’s involved.” Clegg was still astonished at the way that Karen had given over her team to his attentions. It was obvious that her ruthlessness would not let anything stand in the way of winning an account. “And of course it is always a pleasure to have such a pleasing group of young ladies as guests in our establishment.”

“Well, I have to thank you anyway. From all you say, your team has certainly managed to create the sense of what it is like to be in the hands of THA for my staff. That will stand us in very good stead as we go forward.” Karen Brace smiled and picked up a cigarette from the silver box on the board room table.

Clegg leant forward to offer a light, being careful to avoid the spikes of Karen’s collar. “I’m not sure what’s more spiky,” he thought, “that collar, your heels, those finger nails, or your attitude.”

Karen inhaled and went on, “Now, I think we are all ready for this morning’s presentation. Is there anything more we need to do with my team? You’ve gone to a great deal of trouble to ensure that we have the right props for this little show and we don’t want to drop any balls at the last minute.”

“No, they are all set. Mikki is down in the presentation suite now, unconscious of course but she will come around on cue. Jessica believes that her ransom has been paid and she is about to be freed. Jane and Joanna are being made ready by Elly as we speak.”

“Fine. Now where’s that stupid child with the portfolio? Dixon! DIXON! Get in here will you.”

“Sorry, Ms Brace,” Beth appeared clutching a leather bound folder. She had taken a leaf out of her boss’ books for her outfit. She had opted for a black velvet jacket with heavily padded shoulders combined with an underwired bra that delivered a substantial cleavage and was just visible where her jacket buttoned. Her very short tight skirt, slicked back hair and heavily applied make up suggested to Clegg that she’d been watching re-runs of Robert Palmer videos. Ah, nostalgia. Perhaps he should have taken Elly up on her suggestion when they had seen her earlier. Oh, well never mind.

Karen took the case from Beth’s hands. “Where the hell have you been, Dixon? I haven’t got time to wait around for you today. We are on a really tight schedule to get this pitch done. If you don’t shape up, Mr Clegg’s organisation here will turn his attentions to you as well.”

Beth looked horrified. “I am sorry Ms Brace, every thing is in order.”

Karen thumbed through the folder. “All the multi-media stuff set up?” she asked.

“Yes, all done.”

“Well in that case, I guess we can start. Mr. Clegg, if your principals are ready I propose that we all make our way down to the presentation theatre. I think we can make a convincing pitch for your business.”

Chapter 11 :  Perfect Pitch

For Michaela, the drug wore off slowly and as it did so she was aware that she was still bound and gagged, seated now and evidently tied to a chair in a darkened room. She was dressed again. She tried to moan through her gag but it remained as effective as before. She tried to struggle against her bonds but they did not give.

Suddenly the room was flooded in light – dazzling her. She shut her eyes in reaction and only opened them a few moments later as she heard an amplified voice say, “Welcome to the House of Abductor”. She could see that she was on a brightly lit platform of some sort in front of a small auditorium. Because of the lights she could see nothing of any audience that might be out there.

Then, with horror, she caught sight of herself in a mirror to the side of the stage. Whoever had tied her up had evidently had one purpose in mind, to create a living caricature of the THA logo. She had been given a blonde wig, hair falling down around her shoulders. A white shirt, torn open to the waist, exposing a pink bra trimmed with broderie anglaise. Pink skirt pushed up to her waist exposing her legs clad in tan stockings. She wore black stiletto heeled shoes.

Whoever had dressed her had shown no less attention to the detail of the bondage, Her hands were tied behind the back of the chair, a rope across her chest and another at her waist held her seated. Ropes around her ankles and thighs prevented her legs struggling and a length of rope linking her ankles and wrists and pulling her feet clear of the ground made any attempt to move painful. The gag too was an exact recreation of that in the picture she had first seen on the cover of the briefing folder a few days ago.

She tried to struggle but a moment later Karen Brace was standing at her side. Beth Dixon, the trainee, was with her holding a portfolio case. Karen placed one hand on Mikki’s shoulder and spoke out into the darkened auditorium. “Welcome, Gentlemen and thank you for showing how well your organisation can deliver on its commitments. We thought you would like to see how we have approached understanding your requirements so that we can offer you the sort of service that THA needs. Miss Dixon here has a portfolio of our proposed activities and we can go through them later but first …. ”

Mikki tried to peer out against the lights. Was Karen really behind this?

“I hope you agree that our art director here is doing an excellent job in bringing new life to your logo. She was of course correct that the previous one was perhaps too dull – a video of herself as you see her now could bring a little vibrancy to your web site. But enough of the amusements.”

“Also contributing to our proposal is Lady Jessica Ames.” Karen pulled back a curtain and Jessica was dragged on to the platform by the masked Homer and Bart. “As the only daughter of an English Duke she represents the classic ransom opportunity and now she has been able to gain a unique taste of abduction and life as a hostage.” Jessica was struggling to be free of her captors and was evidently swearing behind her gag in a most un-ladylike way. Either Homer or Bart had evidently been paying her some unwelcome attention, as her blouse had mysteriously become torn open to the waist.

“And finally in a little tableau vivant, Jane Ellis and Ms Joanna Wales who have been introduced to the life of slaves in the House of Abductor” She gestured to the far side of the stage. Jessica and Mikki both looked across as Elly entered in full fetish, Dominatrix costume.

Elly strode purposefully across the stage in spite of the height of the stilt heels and platform soles of her boots. She eased the front zip of her leather cat-suit down to an inch or two above the broad belt that was slung across her hips and struck a pose, gloved hands on hips, feet apart. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she grinned, gesturing to the wings with her whip, “please welcome the two latest recruits to the THA stable of slaves – Maid Jane and Slave Joanna.”

From the side of the stage, Jane began to teeter forward on the highest of heels holding aloft, balanced on one hand, a tray carrying an assortment of dildos and vibrators while in her other pulling a leash attached to Joanna’s collar. Jane’s maid uniform was cut to fit tightly over a body distorted by a tightly corseted waist and a boned and padded bra. Her head was enclosed in a tight rubber hood which had built in to it a mouth filling plug gag. Perched on top of her hood, bizarrely, was a maid’s cap

Joanna, however, had been subject to the strictest bondage of all the BBB PR staff. She was virtually naked except for the set of straps that restrained her. A tight cincher was locked around her waist, her arms were strapped into a single glove with a chain running under her crotch and up to the neck corset that held her head arched upwards and backwards. A festoon of silver chains linked the clamps that bit tightly into her nipples. The rubber bit gag that formed part of her head harness did not so much silence her as ensure that every whimper was distorted but audible. But, in spite of the terrible discomfort, she wore a look of ecstasy – the pure pleasure of surrender to her fate.

Karen moved to the centre of the stage. “Gentlemen, before we show you our detailed proposals, I am sure that you can see that BBB PR has made a unique investment of resources in understanding the requirements of THA. I would like personally to thank Mr Clegg and all his team for helping my team to get inside your needs. I think you will agree that as a result of this exercise we have shown commitment to understanding your needs. I am sure that we can work together to deliver an excellent programme for you. Do you agree?”

By now Joanna, Jessica, Jane and Mikki were all complaining furiously into their gags, seeing the way in which they had been betrayed into their present situation.

A shadowy figure in the audience got to his feet. With the light behind his head it was hard to make out any features beyond the fez that he wore. He spoke. “Very good Ms Brace. A most impressive display of commitment and a delightful presentation as well. I must admit that I do believe the team has the potential to provide exactly what we need. We can go through the detailed proposals later but they are less important than the demonstration that you have given of your willingness to get fully engaged in our business, to become so fully involved. I will have Mr Clegg draw up the appropriate contracts but I think he also would like to say a few words. Mr Clegg…”

Clegg stepped forward onto the stage. “Ah thank you. Yes. Ms Brace, we have been most impressed with the dedication of your young ladies and yourself and we would like to recognise that. Ms Dixon, could you pass me that box please?”

Beth picked up the box and handed it to Clegg.

Opening it he pulled out a small automatic pistol. “Thank you Ms Brace, and you too Ms Dixon. Please oblige me by raising you hands.”

“What, on earth,” Karen began.

“Please just do as you are told.” Karen glared but complied. Beth followed suit. “Thank you,” smiled Clegg. “Now, let me explain. My associates and I are in agreement. You, yourself have shown a measure of ruthless dedication that is exactly what we expect of our associates. We all think your team can do an excellent job for us.. However, we think you will work better as part of our organisation rather than where you are now. We’ll find you some new offices and some interesting new spare time activities as well. Think of it as a hostile take-over, if you like.”

You’re a bastard, Clegg,” Karen fumed.

“Technically accurate, I believe,” Clegg grinned in response. “But I suspect you were not really referring to my lineage.” He frisked each of the two in turn while keeping his gun pressed against first Karen’s neck, then Beth’s. “Now one of the benefits we provide in our organisation is that today we have a policy of dress-down day for all our female staff - perhaps you will oblige us by undressing. Then we can get you all trussed up and on your way to getting started on the project.”

Clegg held both women at gunpoint as they each stripped in turn. Karen and Beth had soon stripped to their underwear. Clegg was pleased to note that these two additions to the collection presented as agreeable a proposition as their colleagues. Dixon of course was still very young but even though Karen was older her body was still in good shape. Her tits looked as though they would provide excellent amusement when she wasn’t too occupied in her new work.

Elly secured the two new captives in handcuffs and leg irons.

Clegg took pleasure in fitting their gags himself. “Don’t you dare put that thing in my gmmph,” Karen hissed as Clegg pushed the penis plug gag between her teeth and buckled its strap in place.

“Now, now, Ms Brace. Don’t feel bad about this. You acted in good faith but you just cannot trust people in our line of business.”

Beth Dixon was sobbing as Clegg went to fit her ball gag. “But Mr. Clegg, I thought I was helping you and Elly.”

“Well Beth, so you were and so you will be. Your information was most helpful. You are young and will learn a lot about how to help us going forward. Now, please open your mouth nice and wide for this ball.” Beth obeyed, still sobbing.

Clegg and Elly herded the six women together to the applause of the THA representatives on the floor of the presentation suite. “Thank you ladies.” Clegg concluded, “Now I am not sure how much experience you have had of working in export markets so we will introduce you to that side of our business next. If I could ask my colleagues to assist, we’ll get you down to the holding cages for now and then the truck will be here shortly. Won’t you lead the way Ms Brace?”

Clegg gestured to the side of the stage with his pistol and the six helpless women were led away to start their new careers in the service of THA.

Chapter 12 : THA e-Slave?

In less than a month the BBB PR team had settled into their new positions. Clegg had taken control of the activity and had seen all of the women through the initial slave training that got them used to responding to orders and, of course, providing sexual services on demand.

Clegg decided that the team should look the part when hard at work and had decreed that they should wear identical outfits with short, tight black skirts, tight white shirts, black stockings and high heels. After only a month they still spent most of their time with chains linking their padlocked-on shoes although they were only handcuffed at nights or in the event of significant misdemeanours. Mikki, for example, had been furious about the way that Karen had exploited them and she had been kept in a straight jacket for days until her guards were convinced that she presented no threat to her boss. Equally, they were only gagged occasionally but today, after an unfortunate disagreement with one of the guards, Karen was working at her desk with her mouth wedged open by a large ring-gag.

In spite of such problems the girls had made progress in developing THA’s PR programme.

Lady Jessica had been assigned to develop a program to influence key politicians that affected THA’s sources of products and their markets. Not surprisingly this influencing program had involved showing them the benefits of a compliant slave and as a result she had spent much time in chains, on her back or on her knees, in the presidential palaces of a number of heads of state, all of whom were pleased to make the acquaintance of a bona-fide member of the British aristocracy. She was also the co-star of a number of video productions with a number of public officials sharing the limelight. These movies, usually featuring Jessica in a state of undress and restraint and the official in a state of arousal, provided THA with an inducement for continued co-operation from the official involved.

Mikki and Joanna had worked hard at producing the next edition of the THA’s slave sale catalogue. Mikki was directing the production. Whereas previously the catalogue had simply displayed slaves in numerical order, she had decided on a themed approach, designed to promote slaves for their potential for their new owners. After her own experience as a living logo she had enlisted Joanna to model for the theme photos for each session of the catalogue. They had completed the photo-shoot for the “Office & Secretarial Slaves” section (business suit, ropes and cleave gag, tied to a typists chair), the “Posh Birds” section (off the shoulder evening, gown, elbow length gloves, tape bonds and gag), and the “Co-ed & College Grad Section” (cheerleader outfit, straps and ball-gag). Mikki was now helping Joanna change into a flight attendant’s uniform for the shoot for the “Professionals” section. Joanna was looking enthusiastically at the head harness gag that Jessica had selected for her.

Beth was simply being used to fetch and carry for the team. Currently she was helping Karen plan the forthcoming slave auction. Karen was paying attention to every detail from the compére (selected from the current collection of celebrity slaves), to the layout of the set and the live, secure, web-cast facilities for Internet bidders. Karen had high hopes for the web cast, she saw THA as the e-Bay of the slaving network. Beth was finding it difficult to progress beyond menial tasks but she was at least learning to interpret Karen’s gag-talk. For her part, Karen was finding that being gagged did not necessarily impede her ability to harangue her staff.

Clegg looked across the office with satisfaction. He turned to his associate. “Elly,” he said, “its nice to see everyone working so hard. I think we should have a whip round for the team.”

“Right you are, boss,” Elly smirked and reached for her riding crop.

~THE END~

 

This version © Freddie Clegg 2007

No posting or reproduction without permission

All characters fictitious

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© 2007 Freddie Clegg

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