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STANDARD DISCLAIMER ===================

The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment and

has been posted only to an appropriate group on the Internet.  If it

is found in any other place this is not the responsibility of the

author.

The author explicitly prohibits.

1) The posting of this story in an incomplete form.

2) The use of this story in a larger work without his express

permission.

3) The use of this story on any CD, BBS or Website without the

written permission of the author.

This work is copyright TM Quin 1999.

All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to

persons living or dead is purely coincidental.  The author does not

necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this

story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.

Quin 1999 tmquin@ibm.net

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                               Magus By Quin

                               =============

Prologue: "Introducing the Artist"

==================================

Do you know the second most frequent question I'm asked?  No? I'll give you a clue, my favorite color is the fifth most frequent question. Still can't guess? It's "Oh Mr. Magus what do YOU collect?"

They are talking art of course. Asking an artist what art he collects is basically the same question as asking a singer what music he listens to or asking a movie star what actors he "admires." It's stupid, lame, tabloid pap and the most meaningful question your average celebrity interviewer can think up with the two brain cells at their disposal. I give them the answer they want to hear of course, watching their eyes glaze over when I talk about Cezane or Monet. I sometimes get a spark of interest when I mention Leonardo, but that soon disappears when they realize I'm talking DaVinci and not DiCaprio.

Yes they smile their plastic Hollywood smiles, nod when they think they should, and generally try to act comfortable with someone they don't understand at all. Oh I get the occasional good interview, Barbara Walters for one and of course the nice little girl from Time but most have no idea how to handle the Artist as Superstar. No experience you see. No one before me they can relate to. Oh yes there was Warhol and I suppose Picasso and Dahli might be said to be celebrities but in all honesty they were limited creatures hardly up to the comparison. My only peers, the only ones I view as equals are the great masters of the Italian Renaissance, Donatello, Michaelangelo, Raphell and of course Leonardo and yes at least one interviewer thought I was talking about Mutant Turtles.

More than once I've been tempted talk about my real collection, the one that takes up the majority of my time and attention, if only to shake the fake smile off of some of those faces. Of course that would be stupid, no amount of money can protect you from charges of kidnapping, rape and murder and I like my lifestyle too much to trade it for a prison cell. Still, perhaps I should share the story with these few pages and let history be my judge.

Where to begin? The need to create art has gripped me for as long as I can remember. My earliest memory is of sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor looking a print of Leonardo's Last Supper in some book of  my moms. It was a poor reproduction, insignificant compared to the majesty of the original, but I soon became drunk on it, worshipping at the foot of the master. I actually wrote him a letter, Leonardo I mean, telling him just how pretty his picture was. Imagine my disappointment when I discovered I was three hundred years too late.

Still the die was set. I read all I could, studied techniques from every artistic school, each discipline, working every hour I could to try to approach the mastery that those great artists had found so easy. I didn't limit my education to art either, the renaissance believed that for a man to be the master of any discipline he must have a good knowledge of all. Dead languages like Greek and Latin competed for my attention with French, Spanish and Italian. Science and medicine didn't escape my attention either and I soon had a working knowledge of at least a dozen fringe subjects. I found it strangely easy, as if in some way those long dead masters were guiding my destiny.

Art school was disappointing, basically a factory for commercial artists. I dropped out after the first year earning what I could  from occasional magazine work and making posters for local rock bands. Yes I starved, that is part of the modern artistic experience, but finally the breaks started to come. I had a limited success with a small exhibition in a local gallery. I didn't make much, certainly not as much as I later discovered the owner had made, but it got me noticed by a few serious collectors. Then a band I did some work for made the big time. The look of their posters had become such a part of their image that they asked me to come along. What a great time that was! I designed everything, posters, album covers, advertisements, tee-shirts, stage costumes even the stage sets themselves. When the first videos came out I did the design for those as well and soon after I found myself directing the second video too.

Soon I was getting other offers, even design work for movies, at some stage someone called me Magus -- a magician, a wise man, a seer and worker of miracles. I gratefully accepted the mantel, taking my place amongst that group of celebrities who only need one name. Before long I had made my first million and when I started designing fabrics for the leading fashion houses  the money really started to roll in. Soon I was living in my own castle in Beverly Hills, complete with my own band of groupies, hangers on and acolytes. You may wonder why I would surround myself with such people? The answer was simple. On the road with the rock band I had seen how useful such people can be. They are your bondsmen you see, owing everything to you. Their access to drugs, girls and the good life is directly in your gift, capable of being snatched away at a whim and they understand this. Greedy and desperate there is nothing they won't do to remain in your favor. Exactly the army you need when you want to do something a little illegal.......

The idea of starting a collection of sex slaves had started back in the hungry years, a reaction to the sneering looks I got from salesgirls and waitresses, and the not so polite refusals of some of the women I had wanted to date. The irony was that now those same women would be more than happy to hang out with me, more than happy to share in the celebrity lifestyle and parties. So my sights moved on to women who would not want to be in my company of their own free will. To house my Collection I prepared five soundproofed cells in the basement of my mansion together with a very special "studio" in which I would work with my captives using their unwilling bodies as the raw material for my art. When all was in readiness I started to look around for suitable candidates. Soon however my first "piece" decided to volunteer herself.

When I say "volunteered" I don't mean that she came up and offered herself to me. No, given the choice little Nancy would rather be anywhere than in my tender care. What Nancy did was open her big Australian mouth at precisely the wrong moment.

It happened during my first tour of Australia. I was there to open a few exhibitions, do a few interviews and some sketches for a bronze statue of  a former Prime Minister called Bob Hawke. I don't know if old Bob was popular or not, I don't keep up with Australian politics, but it certainly got us a lot of attention. Huge crowds gathered everywhere we went and my bodyguard, Tiny, had a lot on his plate just keeping me safe.

We were attending some gala bash at the Sidney Art Center when it happened. An egg thrown from the crowd whizzed past my ear. I never saw who threw it but I knew where it came from. Glancing over in that direction I saw a group I first took to be a biker gang. They had that look all long hair and leather.  Most, male and female alike were immediately forgettable but there was one that immediately grabbed my attention. Long blonde hair framed a strong angular face with a high forehead and finely sculptured cheekbones. Large blue-green eyes peeked out above a long straight nose and full pouty mouth. That mouth opened and yelled abuse most of which I missed as I was letting my eyes work their way down over her body to her long muscular legs. When I did snap back to what she was screaming I picked out "talentless bastard" and "you posing git." Before I could react further, and probably fearing that something more substantial than eggs might be thrown next, Tiny pushed me firmly inside.

I accepted the warm handshakes from the gathered dignitaries but rather than allowing myself to be led away I excused myself and stood to one side near a window watching the blonde as she yelled at the later guests. She seemed a real rabble-rouser, just the kind of girl who I could imagine would take some breaking. Without being too obvious I summoned my entourage to me.

Weasel is a thoroughly unpleasant type, a nasty slimy little man who somehow invited himself into my household. I keep him around because he can fix things, anything you want he can get from drugs to guns no questions asked. Weasel likes my money but he likes my access to women even more. He kinda acts like a taster, sampling all the fruits that are offered to me and ensuring that only the best ends up in my bed. He is singularly dedicated and his physical repulsiveness ensures that only the really commited groupies make it through my doors. Yes, Weasel had  seemed perfect for the job. I pointed out our little blonde friend and asked him to find out who she was. In addition I gave him a little shopping list of things we would need if we were to keep our new friend comfortable. Leering he nodded and then sneaked outside in pursuit.

                               Magus By Quin

                               ==============

Chapter 1 : "Nancy"

===============

It took a couple of days for Weasel to report back and by that stage we were almost ready to leave Australia. Christmas was rapidly approaching and though it was a long hot summer in the southern hemisphere I wanted to be back in the states by the twenty fifth. By then my plans for Nancy were well advanced and nothing was going to stop me now. Yes, little Nancy was destined to become the first "piece" in my collection.

Weasel had covered all the angles, by the time we were ready he knew not only all there was to know about Nancy but also details of her friends and acquaintances. It seemed that Nancy ran with a group of kids from one of the local projects. Their activities seemed limited to having wild times and getting drunk. Certainly it was hard to say what the group believed in, heavy indie rock and grunge style seemed to be the few things they had in common. It seemed that the little scene at the gallery had been more a display of antiestablishment chic than the reflection of a solid political or artistic position.   

It also seemed that Nancy was a forceful little bitch and consequently found it hard to hang on to boyfriends. Doug, her latest, seemed to be looking for a way out of their relationship and was already seeing a girl called Maggie on the side. It seemed that everyone but Nancy knew what was going on and their entire group was just waiting for the explosion when she found out. I guessed that if Nancy "disappeared" Doug for one would be relieved -- of course how to make her disappear was another question. By day she was a student at a visual arts college and worked part time as a waitress in a shopping mall coffeeshop. At night she was a real party animal, always surrounded by about 20 of her friends. For a while I thought about breaking into the apartment she and Doug shared and drugging them while they slept. I liked the idea, imagining her waking to find herself my prisoner. However the artist in me rebelled, it simply wasn't dramatic enough. I wanted to show Nancy the power I had, wanted her to understand how small she was by comparison and how easy it was for me to get to her anywhere.

It was then that I had my idea.

We planned and plotted, working out every angle until we were sure we could handle just about anything. We had decided to snatch Nancy from the local bar were she and her friends met after work. In the runup to Christmas the place was packed and we didn't think there would be much of a problem. In addition to covering our activities the crowds would also hammer home my message to Nancy --- I could reach her anywhere.

Weasel had spent the past few weeks ---errr--- weaseling his way into Nancy's little gang. Oh I doubt many of them liked him much, but they liked his money and his easy access to drugs. In no time he was at the center of their little circle and able to reap his own brand of mischief. Nancy, though she knew nothing about Doug and Maggie, had some instinctive feeling that something was wrong. Weasel played on that feeling of unease gently spreading his poison between Nancy and the others. A few days before we made our move he started dropping hints that he was willing to take Nancy with him when he returned to the states. He had told the group that he was road boss for a number of big name rock bands and implied that he lived the high life in LA. If Nancy came along she could get to mingle with the stars. She seemed to lap it up, she even seemed willing to sleep with Weasel to get out of town. By the middle of December we were ready.

My first big shock came when Weasel and Tiny put their heads together and decided that I shouldn't get involved in the snatch. They said it was too risky and I suppose they both had visions of their meal ticket languishing in some Aussie jail cell. I ranted, pouted, bullied, bribed and threatened but the boyz held firm. In the end I got a concession. They would allow me to watch the snatch go down, perhaps even let me gloat over Nancy a little but after that the transport and storage of my new acquisition would be down to them. Reluctantly I agreed.

O'Hagen's is an Aussie Irish bar in an unfashionable part of Sidney's dock district. Why the place was so popular with the young anarch crowd was a mystery to me but I suspect it had a lot to do with some of the nearby clubs and gaming houses. We had arrived early so that we could secure a couple of tables near the door that would be essential if the plan was to work.  I'd dressed down, a simple leather jacket and leather pants replaced my usual brocade tail coat and pants. Yes, sometimes an anachronistic image helps get you some attention --- ask Prince ---- but a secondary advantage is that without it you look completely different. No one noticed me at all and the rather nosy barmaid had accepted the story that we were American sailors waiting here for a couple of shipmates to get shore leave. Two of my people, Fetch and Kerry, had accompanied me mainly to quell Tiny's paranoia. We'd decided that the big man couldn't come with us as he was too distinctive so Tiny waited outside in a hired panel truck ready to rush to the rescue if there was any trouble. Fetch was your typical roadie, a guy who loved the high life and was willing to do almost anything to ensure it continued. Big, brutish and heavy he would provide the muscle if we needed it. Kerry was a cute little brunette from Brooklyn, the kinda girl who viewed excess as a way of life. She was here to make sure our little group appeared less threatening and to help handle Nancy when the time came. It was early but the bar was already filling.

Almost on queue Nancy's little gang burst into the room and made a beeline for the bar. There were so many that at first I couldn't see her. Finally however the group churned a little and she drifted into view. Up close she looked even better than she had at the gallery. I figured she stood maybe five eight in her socks, a little taller in the high heeled ankle boots she was wearing, and weighed maybe 70 kilos. Strong and muscular with a wiry athletic frame she somehow still managed to have an acceptable bust line. Taking it all in from high heels up past those wonderful shapely legs and up to her large breasts she was a knockout. I found I'd developed a woody under the table that just refused to go away. The fact that if all went well I'd be sampling that body tonight filled me with a buzz like nothing I'd ever known. Almost breathless with anticipation I waited for Weasel to make his move.

He didn't disappoint. A few minutes later he burst in, a huge grin on his narrow feral features. Immediately he headed to the bar where Nancy's group welcomed him. In seconds he was telling them the story. He'd had a good day at the track, a *very* good day! Holding up a big wad of my money he started to buy drinks, lots and lots of drinks. I watched him for over an hour as his little band got progressively drunker. There was so much seed money that even an hour of solid drinking hadn't made that much of an impression. He deliberately flashed the wad in Nancy's face and I saw her eyes widen. It was then I knew we had her.

I watched Weasel work with the admiration that one master shows to an artist of another discipline. Nancy and her friends got progressively more drunk and yet Weasel managed to drink very little. The more greedy members of Nancy's group were now almost paralyzed, though Nancy herself seemed less effected. Realizing that the moment we had been waiting for was fast approaching we subtly rearranged ourselves, Fetch and Kerry moved onto the spare table, while I continued to sit were I was, almost as if I didn't know them. Weasel gave me a small nod of acknowledgment then started his endgame.

Looking around the bar Weasel suddenly "spotted" Fetch and started waving, shouting something as if he was trying to get Fetch's attention. Fetch was pretending not to see him and concentrated on Kerry instead. After a few minutes of fruitless signaling Weasel lent over to Nancy and pointed in our direction. I watched as Nancy looked over and checked Fetch out. So far so good. Weasel again tried unsuccessfully to get Fetch's attention. In the end Weasel stood up and grabbing Nancy's hand, dragged the girl towards our tables.

"Dave? Hey Dave is that you?" Weasel gasped out.

Nancy seemed a little unsteady on her feet and was giggling a little as she stood next to Weasel. Her face was flushed with booze and excitement. Little did she know that her life was about to get a lot more exciting.

Fetch blinked, "Steve? Steve, you old bastard, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"Doing groundwork for the Stone's tour next year," Weasel said modestly.

Fetch frowned, "You still with them? I thought you said you'd walked after Keith hit you?"

Weasel smiled, "Bastard bought me a new car to apologize didn't he. New Caddie.... loaded, *and* I get a Ferrari when they play Milan next summer."

Fetch laughed, "You always were a luck bastard Steve. Hey, meet Kerry, Kerry, this is Steve.... the second best road boss in rock history!"

"Second?" Weasel asked, "after you I suppose?"

Fetch just gave a broad smile and fished out another big roll of notes. I could barely suppress my smile as Nancy's eyes bulged again. I suspect that she had taken Weasel's story with a pinch of salt but there was no denying the money.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Weasel asked, "This is Nancy.... she's coming back to LA with me." Nancy made no attempt to correct "Steve" though her attention did seem to be split between shaking Kerry's hand and checking out "Dave's" huge wad of cash.

Fetch started to count out a few notes, but Weasel stopped him.

Weasel smiled. "Let me," he said, "I suppose you want a Scotch, what's the lady having?"

"A slow comfortable screw on the beach?" Kerry asked holding up a glass.

Weasel's smile quirked, "Maybe later darlin' for now what do you want to drink?"

The girls giggled and Weasel saw his opportunity. He turned to me, "Hey pal, is it ok if my girl uses this seat?" He pointed to the spare chair at my table.

"Sure," I said, "be my guest."

Nancy flashed me a smile of gratitude as she sat down. There was no hint of recognition on her face, whatever she thought about the great Magus she didn't recognize me in civvies. Behind her Weasel flashed me another leering, feral grin then switched his attention back to our pigeon.

"What do you want darling?"

Nancy frowned. "I'll have what she's having," she said pointing towards Kerry, "It sounds like fun."

Weasel smiled, "Ok, two comfortable screws, two whiskeys, should be easy to remember," and with that he headed towards the bar.

By now my hardon was getting painful and I found it hard to pretend to ignore Nancy and the others. Nancy was talking mainly to "Dave" asking questions about "Steve" that at first seemed casual and friendly. However it soon became obvious that she was checking Weasel's story out, especially the tales he'd told about his house, income and access to the famous.

Fetch of course simply confirmed everything Weasel had said and Nancy seemed to relax. She glanced in Doug's direction to find that he and Maggie were getting very friendly. It seemed that the free booze had drowned out their usual caution.  The couple exchanged looks with Nancy and then the girl turned back towards Fetch and asked another question. I barely suppressed a smile -- Doug and Nancy's relationship was over.

A few seconds later Weasel was back with the drinks handing each to its owner with a flourish. On queue Kerry challenged Nancy to see which of the girls could knock the cocktail back in one.

Nancy won, her face flushed with triumph, but it paled by comparison to the look of triumph that Weasel gave me behind Nancy's back. Now the fun really started.

In the next few minutes Nancy's speech became increasingly slurred. I could see the puzzled look on her face as simple sentences became impossible. About that time she discovered she was having difficulty moving too. Her eyes widened with terror as she lost control of her body. Reaching down Weasel twisted her head in my direction so that I was looking directly into those wild blue-green eyes of hers.

"Hello Nancy," I said, in a warm friendly voice. I smiled and shook her limp hand as if we'd just been introduced, "My name is Magus, we met once before at the gallery?"

I saw her eyes widen with recognition and her lips moved a little but only a jumbled murmur emerged.

I smiled a Judas smile.  "I see you do remember. Good. Of course you had a bit of a problem remembering my name back then. As I recall you thought my name was "talentless bastard" or something?" I paused as if thinking. "You know Nancy, you and I are going to get to know each other so intimately over the next few years that I think we should maybe use little pet names, what do you think?"

Of course she couldn't answer, but those wide eyes of hers spoke volumes.

I clicked my fingers as if I had just had a wonderful idea. "I know, you could call me Master and I could call you ...... oh let's think...... something suitable? How about Slut? Yes, Slut seems to suit you so perfectly I think we'll use that."

  

Her helpless eyes looked up at me and silently begged. By now my hardon was so intense I could hardly bare it. Somehow I controlled myself a little longer.

"Well, I would love to chat," I said smiling, "but my friends want to take you out of here while you're still drugged. Still we'll have plenty of time later." Reaching up I wiped a solitary tear from her cheek then turned away.

Between them Kerry and Weasel pulled Nancy to her feet. I could tell from the look in her eye that she was kicking and screaming inside but her drugged body remained quiet and compliant.

"Stand aside people, I think she's going to be sick." Kerry shouted as she pulled Nancy towards the door. A "concerned" Weasel held the girl up, one hand holding her mop of blonde hair forcing her head down. A path parted and the group went outside, Fetch bringing up the rear with the ladies bags and coats. I glanced over at the group at the bar. Weasel had left enough money behind to keep them drinking for the rest of the night. None of them seemed that concerned about Nancy's sudden departure, not one of them made a move to follow her outside and see how she was. Smiling I finished off my drink while I watched Doug and Maggie getting more friendly. When Doug got home and discovered that Nancy's stuff was gone he would assume that she'd finally broken up with him. Certainly I doubt he'd think it odd that she was missing.

I had just collected my first piece.

##############################################

I found myself with an hour or so to kill. The drug we'd used on Nancy had to be carefully measured. Too much and she would be a zombie for the next few days, too little and we risked her recovering at an inopportune moment. In the end we'd given her enough to keep her quiet for maybe half an hour hardly leaving enough time for us to get her clear of the bar. It would take nearly an hour before the Boyz were ready to smuggle her into our hotel. I had been told politely to loose myself for the next few hours. In the end I went to see a movie.

I don't even remember what the movie was about, some summer hit that had been released in the states six months before. Sitting alone in the darkened theater my mind was filled with images of Nancy and what my people were doing to her. I knew that a few blocks away from the bar the van would park in a vacant lot. I could imagine Nancy's weak struggles as she was stripped and bound. Then Kerry, dressed in Nancy's clothes and wearing a long blonde wig, would go with Weasel to Doug's house to remove Nancy's things and leave the good-bye note I'd forged. When they were finished they would return to the van and get Nancy ready for her trip to the hotel.

By then the hotel would be the scene of a huge party, again paid for by my money. With large numbers of drunken revelers to contend with it was unlikely that the hotel staff would notice a few of my people "helping" one of my guests upstairs. Nancy would be dressed in a long ladies trench coat, her face disguised and gag hidden behind a lifelike rubber mask I'd fashioned. The thing wouldn't pass a close examination but with luck no one would get that close. Tightly bound and muffled by the gag she would be marched upstairs by the Boyz without anyone being any the wiser.

At least that was the theory. The presence or absence of the police when I returned to the hotel would prove if the idea would work in practice.

After what seemed like an eternity I returned to the hotel. No police, just the sound of a party in full swing. No one said anything or challenged me as I headed towards the elevator. Once inside I punched the button for the penthouse.

After all the excitement returning "home" was almost an anticlimax.  Fetch was lying stoned on the couch, Kerry and Weasel were getting friendly at the bar. They smiled when I walked it, Weasel flashed me a little victory sign and Kerry clipped over in Nancy's ankle boots.

"She's in the bedroom," Kerry giggled, giving me a little peck on the cheek. "Have fun and Merry Christmas."

I was stunned, relieved more than anything that it was all over. In a daze I walked over to the bedroom door and slipped inside.

The room had been decked in Christmas trimmings and streamers. On the side table near the bed an ice bucket chilled a magnum bottle of Champaign, two wine flutes placed strategically nearby. There was a large four poster bed with a canopy, the interior of which was currently hidden behind thin silk curtains. The far bedside lamp had been left on shining through the drapes and giving me a shadow show of the figure that waited for me on the bed.  There, projected on the curtain, was the shadow of an athletic young woman kneeling patiently in the center of the bed. Her back was arched her head thrown back. She seemed to be hardly moving, just shifting her weight slightly as she silently awaited my arrival.

Smiling I walked forward, then quickly jerked the first curtain aside.

I was looking at the girl's back as she knelt on the bed. The first thing I noticed were her arms, it was impossible not to notice. A wide, red leather collar was fastened around the girl's throat and to the back of it a couple of broad ribbons had been fastened. The ribbons went down the woman's back and were then tied to her wrists pulling her hands up behind her back in a tight hammer lock. Her hands with their red manicured nails and desperate, questing fingers were held level with the girl's shoulder blades, a sever position that looked far from comfortable.  However the person who had bound her hadn't stopped there. Her forearms, from her wrists to her elbows had been bound together mummy fashion with a continuous layer of bright red tape. It looked almost like the girl was praying, except her wrists were behind her and not in front. Perhaps she was praying for release? I didn't know. She had stiffened when I moved the curtain but had made no attempt to turn or struggle harder. That puzzled me and although I allowed myself a  chance to brush my hand against her hair, which had been washed, cut and tied with a red bow, I  didn't linger with the back view.

Stepping to the side I moved the drape back and looked for the first time at Weasel's masterpiece. Nancy knelt uncomfortably on the bed, her back arched, her head back and her breasts thrust out in a most appealing way. The reason for her condition and lack of movement became clear when I saw the tiny gold ring in her nose. She hadn't been wearing a ring in the bar but I knew enough about piercing to know that this was not a recent addition. The ring had been threaded through an existing hole in her nose then tied to the canopy with a length of thin strong wire or fishing line. The line was tight forcing the girl to keep her head back and her spine arched. Oh, Nancy *could* move from that position, but only by tearing her nose apart. She had elected instead to stay perfectly still.

Wide eyes full of a mixture of pain and hate glared at me from each side of her nose. She obviously wanted to tell me what she thought too but her words didn't make it through the mass of packing in her mouth and the few noises that finally made it past her taped lips were hardly likely to disturb anyone. Yes, someone had really gone to town with that red tape. Not only were the girl's lips sealed but the tape covered the whole of the bottom of her face from her bulging cheeks to her chin. Nancy finally voiced her disapproval with a low growling sound made almost entirely in her throat. I smiled and looked the rest of her over.

At the front the wide leather collar was augmented with a large silken bow and a small cardboard tag with the cheery words "Season's Greetings." for now I ignored it and drank in the rest of Nancy's beautiful naked body. Her breasts were large but still had a good shape. The hammer lock had forced them out to good effect. Two more bows covered each nipple and a small red Christmas ball dangled invitingly from each breast.  Continuing down I noticed that her cunt was covered in a G string formed from wide, red silk ribbon and tied in a pretty bow just below her navel. A small cylindrical imprint on the tape at crotch level along with a dampness of the ribbon showed that a vibrator was lodged in the girl's cunt. I was surprised how little she was moving and from habit checked the vibrator.  Yes, it was on running low and slow. I figured with that kind of stimulation she should be squirming like crazy but except for the dampness and the sweat on her body there seemed no indication of what was happening inside her. Puzzled I completed my inspection. Yet more of the red tape had been used on her legs, securing each ankle firmly to its thigh, immobilizing her legs while leaving me full unrestricted access to her cunt. I nodded my appreciation.

A pair of scissors was waiting on the night stand and being a nice guy I used them to cut the nose wire.  Groaning with relief she straightened, only to flinch again. I'm used to studying human posture and I can tell a lot about a person by the way they sit or stand. From the confused messages being radiated by Nancy's helpless body I figured the problem was somewhere in the upper body. Puzzled I sat on the bed next to her watching with interest as she flinched again. It took me a moment to understand, the Christmas balls dangling from her nipples were not moving as I expected. Grabbing one I took a closer look. It proved to be much heavier than I expected and I could see why, at some stage it had been split open and another object --- probably a lead fishing weight, concealed inside. The balls fastened to the nipple bows by more of the wire used for the nose line. Looking closer I realized that both bow and line were fastened to the girl's nipple via an evil looking clamp. It seemed that the harder the clamp was pulled the harder the little teeth bit into the soft nipple flesh. As this was a waterbed almost any movement by the girl would cause the balls to move and the teeth to bite. It was hardly surprising that the girl had knelt so still.

"Do you want me to remove these?" I asked, touting one of the balls.

She nodded, so energetically the other ball started to swing. Nancy winced.

"Kiss my hand," I ordered presenting the back of my hand to her taped mouth. Despite the pain she leant forwards and touched her taped lips to the back of my hand. Then she moved again rubbing her cheek against my hand like a cat. Looking up with large, tear-filled, begging eyes she moaned into the gag. She really wanted the balls gone so I obliged her. I think she had expected me to remove the whole clamp, certainly she seemed disappointed when I only cut the balls free and left the clamps and bows where they were.

Now it was time for the tag. Reaching up I snatched the small cardboard label from her collar.

"It says Merry Christmas Magus from the Boyz and Grlz of the Cru, " I told her. I chuckled, "They shouldn't have.... I was only expecting a tie!" It seemed so funny that I was forced to laugh again. Nancy of course said nothing.

Now that the balls were gone her little ass was wiggling in time to the vibrator. Smiling I let my hands roam her body, exploring each straining muscle, each taped limb. Helpless and immobile, unable to even voice her indignation Nancy closed her eyes. I smiled and gently laid her on her side so that I could work on all of her body.

She was so perfect, so muscular, so perfectly classically proportioned that I became drunk with her body. I knew then that I would have to paint her, that she was to become my model as well as my lover and slave. As my hands continued to roam I took in the details. I noticed that she had a small cherry birthmark on her back that someone had tried to hide with body makeup. When I finally relented and removed the nipple clamps I found the marks that showed that her left nipple was also pierced as was her naval. All in all she was beautiful, just ripe for training and there seemed no better time to start.

Slowly I started to suck and lick her tortured nipples, listening to her faint moans of delight and noticing how rapidly they hardened under my touch. Smiling I continued while my hand moved down to her crotch to untie the bow. The G string had been formed from one long length of wide silk ribbon. Rather than remove it immediately I pushed it to one side and reaching into her pussy removed the buzzing intruder.

Then I started to gently pull the ribbon letting it pull into the damp folds of her pussy and rub gently against her engorged clit. Very slowly I continued to pull the ribbon, watching her body writhe as the silk band gently rubbed against her quim. Soon she was panting, her body straining against the tape on her limbs as her mouth strained against the tape of her gag. Low animal sounds emerged from her throat and her body shook with the first orgasm. A second followed soon after, just before the last of the ribbon ran out. By now I was more than ready and started to undress. Nancy's eyes bulged a little when she saw the size of my erection, I figure Doug and his friends probably weren't as well equipped. Safe sex demanded that for now a rubber would have to come between us and she shivered in a strange combination of fear and excitement as I rolled it on.

Then I grabbed her by the waist and plunged into her tight damp hole.  With her bound thighs rubbing against my sides and a muffled grunting coming from behind her gag I thrust in harder and harder.  Before long she was moving with me, clamping down as I thrust in, building her own sensation. My hands found her nipples and I rolled them in time to the thrusts. A gagged whimper heralded the start of her orgasm so I shifted gear, changing my rhythm to deny her completion. She balanced on the edge for an additional heartbeat, maybe two, before the orgasm crashed down upon her. I have no doubt that she probably thought it was an eternity. Her spasms had been the signal my rampant cock had been waiting for, as a second aftershock orgasm claimed her I unloaded into the rubber and imagined what it would be like to paint Nancy's vagina with my cum.

Afterwards I cut her free, rebinding her with the handcuffs Weasel had left for the purpose. I had intended to ungag her and share the wine but by the time I returned from the bathroom she was already asleep. Tomorrow we would use the mask and trench coat to smuggle her from the hotel to the small airfield where my private jet was waiting. Once we were back in the states she would have pride of place in my new collection and her training as my slave could begin. I doubted that it would be too hard to break her for as we'd fucked I'd seem the look of excitement and submissive acceptance in her eyes. Behind the tough exterior little Nancy was a natural submissive, turned on by her own humiliation. Yes Nancy was one in a million, and I still had four rooms left to fill.

                               Magus By Quin

                               ==============

Chapter 3 : "Michelle"

=================

I unlocked the door and stepped inside. The cell was sparse, an army cot, a wash stand and a bucket. She had wanted it that way. She had refused the comfortable quarters I'd prepared, shunned my advances as if she had any choice.

Infuriating bitch.

So I'd brought her here to the bare storeroom to show her just how bad it could be if she continued to defy me. I had put her here three weeks ago and she was still resisting. I admit that I was impressed, I doubt that I could have taken it that long. She knelt where I'd left her, not surprising given the amount of leather I'd used to restrain her body. Her knees must really be hurting by now, and her nipples of course. I looked at the two recent rings that went through her nipples, strong wire bound them to the ceiling above her head. The wire was so tight that things started out at "painful" and if she moved at all, hell if she even breathed deeply, then things could escalate through "real painful" to "agony." I hadn't wanted to pierce her, it isn't one if my fetishes, but I knew that she hated the idea and so I'd used it against her. The same with the gag, down here in the soundproofed basement there was no way that she could be heard but I knew she hated to be gagged so I had strapped a padded leather gag over her mouth. The gag matched the leather blindfold, the cuffs, the ankle restraints and the other straps that held her immobile.

She shivered sensing my presence. I walked over to her, slapping the crop against my leather pants, letting her know I was coming. She moved and immediately regretted it. I just stood in front of her for a few minutes before I removed the gag.

"Y...you bastard, she croaked through dry lips. Let me g..go."

"No way Angel," I said, "you're mine now."

"Fuck you," she managed to spit, "My name is Hanna ....oawwhh." I cut her off, bringing the crop down on her distended breasts. She screamed. I did it again and again and again until she just shut up and sobbed.

"You know that there's a nicely decorated little cell waiting for you in the main room. Nice soft bed, good food, limited freedom. All you have to do is two things. Just suck me as I asked and call me Master."

"Bring that thing near me and I'll bite it off I swear and as to calling you "master" you can dream on asshole 'cos I'd bite off my own tongue first."

"Perhaps I should save you the trouble and cut it out?" I said coldly.

She stiffened at that and I watched her quake, that was how the nipples had started with her almost challenging me to pierce her. I suppose she realized that too. I looked down on her blindfolded face.

"Unfortunately Angel I'm a patient man but you've challenged me for too long. The time has come to show you that your cooperation is not required."

With that I grabbed her jaw, forcing her mouth open. Before she could react I forced the ring gag between her teeth and buckled the strap behind her head. Realizing what was about to happen she shook her head but by then it was far, far too late. Opening my fly I thrust my dick through the hole in the center of the gag. Using her hair and ears as handles I forced her head backwards and forwards over my erection. This of course caused the nipple wires to pull tight and added to her agony. I kept it up for 15 minutes until she was sobbing and barely resisting me. Then I came, coating her throat with my cum and making her choke and splutter. Reaching into my pocked I found a large rubber dildo that I pushed through the opening in the ring. The end of the dildo was keyed and locked into a receptacle in the inner section of the ring gag turning it effectively into a dildo gag.

Bending down I hissed in the sobbing woman's ear, "Listen bitch, I can do this again tomorrow, and the next day and the next. I don't need your permission to use your body, I own it now, if you cooperate then things get a little easier for both of us that's all." There was no indication that she had heard, no suggestion that she was even conscious any more. Cursing I let her go and stormed towards the open cell door.

In the doorway Nancy waited dressed in her usual outfit of cupless leather corset, thigh boots and gloves. She was holding a whip and waiting expectantly.

"Keep whipping her until you are tired, then give her some water and leave her like that."

"Yes Master," Nancy said and eagerly entered the room. Stepping out I turned to the graying man in the white lab coat who had been waiting outside.

"Well doctor?" I asked.

The doctor smiled. "Da, what you ask is possible," he said in a thick Russian accent, "when I worked for the Bureau of Psychological Studies the KGB brought us many cases, many as willful as her. It is possible, but it would destroy her and that I sense you do not want."

I nodded, Angel was a tough nut, a challenge, someone that I could probably spend my life breaking down. Except I didn't have the stomach for it. I hated the violence and just wished that she was smart enough to work in her own best interest.

Sighing I turned to him,  "Is there an alternative?"

He smiled again. "In a man, no. In many ways the male is too selfish to surrender himself to another. In a woman there is a way. We can condition her such that disobedience or violence against you is unthinkable but there is one simple step which with the right hypnotic and aversion therapy could be used to enslave her will to yours forever...."

As the first of Nancy's blows fell we walked away plotting the subjugation of Angel.

########################################################################  

The opening was of course spectacular. A few well placed calls had brought together the cream of the New York art world and a handful of hot stars from Hollywood. The local press suddenly found itself fighting with national magazines and the tabloids for pictures. The whole event was probably the biggest thing to have happened in that small south western town for decades.

Harry Donovan looked pleased, basking in the sudden media attention. For now I allowed him his moment in the sun. Wisely he let me handle all of the interviews and sound bites, after all the press would rather talk with an international star than some gallery owner. Still he was gracious about it even managing to keep Samantha away. Sam and Becky hovered in the background looking for an excuse to get in camera. In Sam the feeling of frustration was almost tangible though in Becky it was more subdued. This seemed to confirm my idea that she would be easy to break of her mother's bad habits. For now though she would have to wait. I had business to discuss with daddy.

#########################################################################

"You want half?" Harry asked, looking up from the contract with a dumb struck expression on his face. I nodded, there was nothing else to say.

"Half of the gallery?" he asked again as if being specific was going to change anything.

"Yes Harry, the cost of this little exercise is half of the gallery, I thought I had made that clear."

Harry's face flushed red, "I thought you were joking God damn it. I thought you were my friend. Who the fuck started you in this business? Who gave you your big break for God sake? ME that's who! You owe me pal, big time!"

He took a step forward but found a big black mountain suddenly blocking his way. Harry suddenly went very pale as his eyes scanned up Tiny's body until he was looking at the bodyguard's smiling face. Tiny is seven feet tall and almost as wide, it surprises a lot of people that a man that big can move as fast as he does.

I fought down the anger that was building in my gut. Yes, fifteen years ago Harry Donovan had hosted my first exhibition, my big break as he called it. Back then I  was so broke I was eating garbage so when Harry had suggested that he would keep half of whatever he could sell my paintings for it had sounded like a good deal. After all, fifty percent of something is better than 100 percent of nothing. When he'd managed to sell a few canvasses I had been really grateful, the few hundred dollars I made had kept a roof over my head and put real food on the table. Yes, back then I'd been truly grateful, it was only later when I'd discovered that he'd sold the set for twenty thousand that I'd felt betrayed. It had taken fifteen years to get my revenge.

I looked Harry over as he stood trembling in front of Tiny. The last few years hadn't been kind to him, several artists had stopped using his gallery, for some reason most of the influential traveling exhibitions now passed him by. With such bad luck a more paranoid man might have thought that someone had it in for him. Unfortunately Harry wasn't paranoid, just tired and prematurely aged. I felt a wave of satisfaction.

Smiling I signaled Tiny to step aside. "Look Harry, we are friends, hell you know I'll always be grateful to you." I kept my voice level and friendly watching as some of his anger subsided. I took a step forward. "So, when you looked me up after all of these years I was puzzled. I made a few calls." I paused, letting him stew for a second, "Harry, I know the gallery is five million in debt." Harry went white and I had to fight hard to hold back a smile.

"How..?" he started. I held up my hand.

"That isn't important right now, all that's important is that we have to get you out of this mess. If the banks knew how badly you where exposed they'd shut you down in an instant."  I paused, "Harry, you know me, I'm not the kind of person who makes judgments but my accountants tell me that the same assets have been used as security in several different loans. If the banks choose to be vindictive they could prosecute you for fraud. That means hard jail time not to mention all the heartbreak for Samantha and Becky."

I think the mention of his wife and daughter finally drove the seriousness of his situation home. "Oh God!" Harry whispered, leaning hard on his desk, "Oh God."

"Don't worry," I said smiling, "I want to help. For fifty percent of the gallery I'm willing to cover all of your debts and inject a little additional capital. Using my contacts I'm sure I can put some business your way. In a few years when you're back on your feet you can buy me out for the same amount as I'm putting in. Sort of an interest free loan?"

He looked up. I could tell he was suspicious but at that moment he really, really wanted to believe. "Why?" he asked.

I smiled, "Harry, I was starving when you found me, as desperate as you are now. You cut me a deal remember? Fifty fifty? Seems the least I can do for you now."

"Where do I sign?"

I resisted the impulse to smile.

Harry being a cautious soul read though all the documents in turn but they were all straight forward. However, when he got to the third contact I could see him stiffen.

"What's this," he asked his voice trembling.

I shrugged. "Simple power of attorney with respect to issues of Becky's education," I said as if it was nothing much at all.

He looked up, genuine fear in his eyes, I could fuck all I wanted with Harry but his family was the only thing in his life he truly cared about. He would fight to the death to protect them.

That was his weakness.

I let my smile harden, "You stole the girl's college fund Harry, next summer she's probably going to be working at Mickey Dees." It was harsh I know but I needed to drive it home.

"But the money....." he started.

"...is for the company Harry," I completed. "You are going to have to sort out your own personal affairs."

He swallowed, his face suddenly pale again. Samantha, his wife was a well known social climber. Becky's large college fund had been set up to allow his daughter to attend the Ivy League school of her mother's choice. The plundering of the fund probably spelt the end of his marriage and just the thought of that was enough to make him desperate.

"Relax," I said flashing him a Judas smile, "the power of attorney will allow me to oversee and pay for your daughter's education. My lawyers tell me that it's necessary if I'm to pay Becky's tuition without Samantha knowing. If you sign then all the fees will be met and Sam need never know that the money isn't coming from the college fund."

The look of gratitude on his face warmed my heart, he was so desperate his hand shook as he signed and dated the contract. Of course what I told him was true, just not the complete truth. What he didn't realize was that the document also gave me custody of the child in the event of her parent's death. In a few months, when Harry and Sam had their little "accident" sweet little Becky would come to live with me. I could imagine the teen kneeling before me, naked but for a leather collar, her eyes looking up in adoration as her cherry lips worshipped my erect cock. I looked forward to putting my mark on her ass. Yes, little Becky would get an education all right.

Harry signed the last paper and I could barely resist a smile of victory. Somehow I managed to hold my face still as I returned the documents to my case and handed it to Tiny.

"Ok partner," I said with a warm smile, "I do believe we have an exhibition to open."

###########################################################################

We mingled and chatted with the guests. Just about everyone who was anyone was there from the mayor downwards. I did my part, circulating, meeting and greeting each in turn, pumping flesh, kissing. They were almost lining up to meet me, and I was soon almost blind from the flashbulbs.

I don't know when I first noticed her. I think I'd looked every woman in the room over once and sort of checked them off as we met. As the exhibition started to wind down I realized there was one missing.

She was standing in front of one of my early works, looking at it with a clinical intensity. I drifted up behind her allowing myself the luxury of looking *her* over. I figured she was in her late twenties, perhaps five three, weighed one twenty maybe one twenty five. I started to walk around her so I could see her face when suddenly she spoke to me.

"This is good," she said.

"Thank you."

She didn't seem even slightly surprised that I was there. Instead she raised an eyebrow, "An early work?"

"Yes," I said.

"Hummm, before you sold out. Pity, you had talent."

I found my face flushing. "I'm sorry miss?"

She didn't answer instead she sipped from a glass of wine she was carrying.

I tried a different tack. "So tell me, are there any exhibitions with your name on the door. If so I'd like to know that name so I can go to your exhibition and make sweeping allegations."

She ignored me for a moment, her eyes taking in every inch of the canvas. "No I have no exhibitions I'm an editor for an arts magazine."

"Ahha," I said, "Those that can't do it write about it...."

"....and those who can't write, edit." She completed. "That's probably true. Except that even an editor can see that you've let your standards slip in recent years to take advantage of the high prices asked for your works."

That stung. I found myself angry with her, not because she was wrong but because she was right. My artist's sole agreed with her even if my showman's side was offended.

"Could you turn around? It's hard to be mad with the back of your head."

She turned and flashed me a smile. It was hard to describe her. Auburn hair cut in a short bob with bangs framed a heart shaped face. She brought the glass up to her kewpie doll mouth, red lips almost kissing the Champaign as she drank. Her eyes, large, brown and kind of almond shaped looked up at me, dark, intelligent and suggestive. For a second I thought that this was some kind of come on. You know, get a star fuck by playing hard to get, but then she giggled, spun on her heels and was off leaving a faint smell of “Opium” behind.

I found myself mad, infuriated and incredibly turned on. Tattooing a number on this one's ass held a very special appeal, enough of one to perhaps take some risks.

Before she disappeared completely I caught Harry Donovan's eye. He came over. "Harry, who is that?" I asked.

"Who?"

"The oriental looking girl with the auburn hair, the one who's leaving now."

"Oh Michelle?" Harry said laughing.

"Michelle?" I asked not seeing the joke.

"She's an assistant editor in the town's only arts magazine. Sometimes when they don't have someone to cover an opening she does it. Basically she doesn't turn down a free lunch."

He laughed again.

"And that's it? The famous Harry Donovan grapevine only has that?" I asked.

"Oh I can't speak ill of a lady," Harry said sipping his wine. "Fortunately she's not a lady."

He flashed the departing Michelle a lecherous look. "The magazine work pays the bills and keeps the local clothes stores happy but she also picks up a little extra money as an artists model. Doesn't make much that way but she is very popular if you catch my drift."

I ignored the innuendo and Harry felt the need to expand on his comment. "I have heard that she dances on tables at some of the local bars, I've even head of the occasional private strip shows but that isn't the best part, one of the artists she used to date told me that she *begged* him to tie her up. I mean begged." He laughed, "She's basically the town slut. Don't tell me that you fell for her? Is she going to be the next of your famous *masked women?*"

I ignored him, the exhibition had been too successful and Harry had over indulged the wine. A second later he put his hand on my shoulder. "If you want her I'm sure you can make her a deal, everyone else has."

My blood boiled and for some reason I found myself fighting the urge to hit him. Whatever Harry thought of Michelle she'd been right about the painting and dead right about me. She had probably forgotten more about art than Harry had ever known. And she had an incredible ass, the kind of ass that just begged to be numbered.

##################################################################################

I looked down on Angel's naked body. She had stopped struggling, I think she had finally realized that there was no point as the straps that held her spread-eagled to the bed would probably have held Tiny. Her body was covered in sweat, her strawberry blonde hair stuck to her skull. I looked at her face but it was covered in a contraption half high tech and half pure kinky. The kinky half was a leather pad gag with a large sponge rubber dildo mouthpiece that had been crammed into her oral cavity then buckled tightly behind her head. The high tech part was the VR helmet that covered her eyes and ears bombarding her poor tired mind with images and sounds that would help me subjugate her will. My eyes wandered down. Some of the electrodes fastened to her breasts were benign, simple connections to heart monitors, others however like the ones fastened to her nipples had a more sinister purpose. As I watched her body contorted against the straps, a muffled scream coming through the gag. That must be the aversion part of the treatment. Down at her crotch I saw the end of the huge nobly dildo we'd jammed in her vagina. Each noble was an electrode able to dispense pleasure of pain with equal precision. A similar device attached to her clit ensured that it didn't feel left out. Wires from these devices and the tube from the Urethral catheter wove their way down the helpless girl's leg before disappearing over the side of the bed.   I glanced over at the doctor who was checking various instruments set up next to the bed and making notes on a clipboard. Nodding he reached up and slightly increased the flow of an IV that hung from a stand near the bed. The drug slipped into Angel's bloodstream robbing her of her will and ability to resist the commands the helmet was giving her.

"How long?" I asked.

"She has been in this state for almost five days," the doctor said, "She has been awake that whole time, though in effect she has also been asleep. The imperatives we give her are going straight into her subconscious mind."

"I meant how long until she's ready?"

The doctor chuckled, "Ah of course, always the practical consideration. In two more days we can let her rest. Then we can try out what we have done."

"Thank you doctor." I smiled, "The first part of your payment is in your Swiss account, the second will be authorized on completing a successful test. Shall we say the end of the week?"

"Da... we will be ready."

Smiling I took my leave.

#############################################################################

The picture was an extreme close-up of Michelle's face. Her eyes were covered by a wide cloth blindfold her mouth gagged with what seemed to be a knotted black rubber strip.

"Where did you get this?" I asked amazed.

Weasel shrugged, "A bondage web site in San Francisco, she's apparently making fetish video's on the side. She does bondage video's with these people, golden showers with someone else."

"My, my, she *is* a kinky little bitch isn't she," Nancy said looking at the picture.

"Fancy whipping her for me Nance?"

Nancy's eyes sparkled, "Oh *yes* Master I would love to."

Reaching down to where Nancy knelt at my feet I ran my hand through her golden locks. "In that case you will be responsible for her indoctrination when she gets here. As number one girl you will explain our rules to her."

Nancy smiled, "but Master I thought you would want to do that?"

I glanced over at the second pile of pictures, the photo's of a shapely teenager taken though a long lens, by the time I collected Michelle I would also have the training of sweet Rebecca to worry about.

Still my plans for Becky could wait for now, the girl wouldn't be 18 until this summer and I needed Harry's power of attorney to be active before I had any legal claim on her ass. Nope, for now Michelle had 100% of my attention.

############################################################

Michelle walked into the room and looked nervously around. It was a standard photographic studio, the kind of place photographers and artist could hire by the hour. She had already been to the wrong studio once and now she was a little more nervous about just bursting in.

"Hello?" she asked.

The man fiddling with the camera looked up, "Yes?"

"Err.... my name is Michelle? I was sent by the agency? I was told that there was an artist here in need of a model?"

"That will be me," the man said his eyes drifting lustily over her body, "Hi, Simon Lawson."

 

He offered his hand.

"Michelle Bowers," she said trying her best to smile. You could tell that she was nervous and thought the man was slightly creepy but she shook his hand anyway.

He seemed to sense her nervousness and tried to lighten the atmosphere a little.

"I'll need a few more minutes to get ready Michelle. Why don't you tell me the other work you've done?"

Michelle shrugged, "Well I've mainly modeled for artists. I've done a few photo shoots, mainly fashion spreads."

"That's fine," he said smiling, "I am an artist but I work from photo's rather than life. I find they are more willing to stand still for the several days a large painting can take. What we'll be doing today is taking perhaps half a dozen sets to be used as reference for a commission I have. Once the picture is started I may need you back for the final detailing if that's ok?"

Michelle seemed to relax now that they were talking business. "A commission? For a collector?"

Simon's smile quirked a little, "Not really, for a magazine, I'm doing the cover for the anniversary issue of Playboy."

Michelle gasped, "P....playboy!"

"Yep, the big time. I'm sorry if I seemed a little nervous but I think you can see why?"

"Oh yes!" Michelle said, "You mean I'm going to be on the cover of Playboy?"

Simon smiled, "That's right babe. Look I'm almost ready. There's a wardrobe over there, why don't you go and pick something out? They want extremely sexy and I've raided just about every costume house I can find. Find something a little extreme to start out with. We can always vary it a little for the later sets."

Michelle moved over to the wardrobe and peered inside. There seemed to be just about every kind of fetish outfit imaginable inside, latex, leather, PVC. For a second she seemed stunned.

"Problem?" he asked.

Michelle swallowed, "All the outfits are so scanty. I... I don't really think I can wear them, it would make me look so tarty."

Simon smiled, "Hey, that's what the customer is buying... pick out something....extreme."

She seemed to waver for a second, her instincts to back out fighting the prestige of getting a Playboy cover. In the end the prestige won out.

"Oh.....ok."

Reaching forward she started to pick items from the wardrobe, black clinging rubber mini skirt,  a pair of latex G string panties, seamed fishnet stockings, a leather demi cup corset and a pair of high heeled patent leather court shoes.

She turned, "Will this do?" She asked holding up her selections. Simon seemed to tremble a little but somehow kept his voice level."

"I think we could go a little more extreme on the footwear?"

"Are these shoes not okay?  Oh all right, I'll find something more outrageous. Are you sure it is Playboy?"

As she turned back to the wardrobe he leered at her in a most disturbing way, but all he said was.

"Yes, the cover!"

That seemed to decide things for her. Reaching into the bottom of the wardrobe she picked up a pair of black, thigh length leather boots with lacing from toe to lower thigh.

"Will these do?" she asked innocently.

Simon licked his lips, "I'd have to see them all together. There's a screen over there that you can change behind." He nodded towards an old battered oriental style screen that was standing in a corner of the studio.

Quivering with anticipation Michelle carried her selections towards the screen. Simon just stood and leered, obviously up to no good. Flashing a smile over her shoulder she slipped behind the screen to undress. She started by taking off the little blue business suit she was wearing and hanging it up neatly. Then she slowly slipped from her underwear.

                         ###

"You know, we could fast forward through this bit?" Nancy said pouting.

I smiled as the guys in the group turned and gave her an outraged look. On the screen the luscious Michelle was wiggling out of her undies and it was quite a thrill. The guy's turned back to the screen and leered. After all, there was the promise of her sliding into the fetish wear any moment. The camera lingered lovingly on her body as her panties slid down her legs to reveal her shaved pussy. It seemed that my take on her ass had been correct, round and firm and just crying out for a number.

Nancy pouted again so I slapped her on the ass and dispatched her to the refrigerator for more beer. Still, she was right about one thing, with no dialog to worry about there seemed no problem discussing things.

"How many of these things has she done?" I asked looking at the pile of video tapes that Weasel had brought.

Weasel somehow dragged his eyes from the screen, "Five. This is the latest, "Collecting Models" I have the rest if you want to check them out. I picked up a couple of the golden showers ones too."

Fetch screwed up his nose.

"What's golden showers?" Kerry asked innocently.

Weasel laughed.

"What?" Kerry asked, "look I only asked a..." Fetch lent over and whispered in her ear. Kerry went red. "You have to be kidding? Urrggg." She shivered, "lets skip those ones ok?"

I smiled and looked back at the screen.

                         ###

Michelle wriggled into the clingy rubber skirt. It was so tight that it dragged and pulled on her skin as it rode up.  It took some adjustment, all of which the camera followed lovingly. Topless and naked but for the skirt Michelle looked very vulnerable and very sexy.  I make a mental note to get her to wear a similar outfit once I owned her.

Next came the corset. It was obvious that she had underestimated the size of the cup and to her "surprise" found it did not quite cover her nipples.

"Richard honey? Could you see if there's another corset? This one doesn't cover everything?"

Simon smiled, "That's fine baby... a little titillation never hurt."

Shrugging, Michelle pulled the fishnets up her legs, smoothing them as she went. Next she slipped on a little leather garter belt and fastened the stockings to the elastic. Opening the boots she slowly pulled them up her long slender legs, the camera slid up the beautiful curves milking the shot for maximum effect. Next she laced them, again slowly and sensuously.

She quickly slipped on the scanty panties then somewhat unsteadily hobbled out on the 5 inch heels.

Flushing red with embarrassment she turned to face the photographer.

"There I 'm ready," she said, her voice almost a challenge, "where do you want me?"

               ####

"I know where *I* want you sweetheart," Fetch said breaking open one of the beers Nancy had brought from the kitchen.

"She isn't a bad actress is she?" Kerry asked ignoring Fetch's comments.

"Shush," Weasels said, flashing Kerry a dangerous look.

The girl pouted and sat back with her arms crossed. Attention returned to the screen.

               ####

After having her lie down on a sheepskin rug Simon posed Michelle in a number of interesting positions each showing off more and more of her body. He had her cup her breasts, the nipples of which were now hard and erect. Next he had her caress her leather covered thighs, allowing the video camera to take close-ups of the damp patch on the inside of her leg and the slickness of the latex G string. Yes, Michelle was one hot bitch, it didn't seem to take much to get her started and as the video progressed she seemed to be getting more and more excited.

Finally Simon looked up from behind the camera. "Ok.... look doll it ain't working. Lets do a few adjustments."

"Oh," Michelle said, flashing him a disappointed look, "Why?"

He sighed, "I think I need to fix that backdrop for starters." Reaching down by the side of the tripod he picked up a small bag and walked towards the girl. She watched with interest as he fastened some loose part of the background with a strip of gaffer tape.

"Ok, while I'm here let's fix that pose. Ok sweet.... try resting your face on one hand and smile at the camera." He stood back in order to see what the result looked like. Michelle lent on one arm, her face resting on the palm of her hand. Simon seemed dissatisfied. Stepping forward he reached down and adjusted on of her shoulders before stepping back again.

Michelle shivered at his touch, this was obviously more than she had counted on.

"Look, can't you just paint me with the photos you have?" she asked. These clothes are very embarrassing to wear."

He ignored her and stepped behind the reclining girl. Michelle tried to twist around and track his movements but he would have none of it.

"Hold still!" he snapped, "for God sake it will only take a minute. Just stay where I put you!"

He grabbed a wrist and moved it behind her. Michelle jumped, "What are you doing?"

"Relax," he said, "we're almost done. Just let me position you." He pulled the hand behind her.

"Oohh! Careful," Michelle moaned.

Suddenly he grabbed the other wrist pulling it back too and before the startled girl could react he fastened a pair of handcuffs tightly around her wrists.

A look of shock and realization flashed across the girl's face. "Ooh what are you doing? This isn't part of the deal! Let me go! I don't want to do this anymore!"

Smiling an evil smile Simon slapped her. "Shut the fuck up bitch. Just shut the fuck up!"

For a second she seemed stunned by the sudden change of events. She just lay panting while he pulled some cord from his bag, crossed her ankles and started to tie them together. They both grunted when he pulled the ankle ropes tight. However Michelle had managed to find her composure.

In a quieter, calmer voice she asked, "Please what are you doing?"

He laughed, "Collecting you sweetheart!"

She shivered. Her big brown eyes starting to fill with tears she looked up at him pleadingly. "What do you mean? Please? A jokes a joke, please stop this."

Still smiling he pulled out more rope and started to tie her knees.

"Please," she begged, "please let me go."

He laughed and pulled the cords tight. "Why should I do that stupid bitch? And you are a stupid bitch coming here on your own."

The camera showed a close-up of Michelle's face. She seemed about to say something but then thought better of it. With a grunt of victory Simon tied the final knot in the knee ropes.

Michelle gasped with horror, apparently realizing that she is now alone and helpless with this man.

"Please let me go," she begged as Simon started tying her elbows together, "this is kidnapping you'll be caught......

The man laughed, "Well done sweetheart! My you are smart! That's right this is a kidnapping, but I've not been caught before and I'm not about to be caught now."

"B...before?" Michelle stuttered.

Reaching into the bag he pulled out a roll of black gaffer tape. After fumbling with the cuffs for a few seconds he removed them. Michelle's wrists were still tied at the elbows and though her lower arms flapped around a little as she struggled to get free, he had no trouble pinning them together.

"W...what are you going to do to me?" She asked, almost hysterical.

He laughed, "Whatever *I* want babe but for now I'm just making sure you stay put." With that he started to tape her forearms together from elbows to wrists. Once the arms where done he hog-tied her wrists to her ankles with another length of rope.

"I have one last rope left babe, but before we get to that I think I'd better shut your yap." Reaching into the bag he pulled out a small sponge rubber ball. "Open wide sweetheart."

Michelle closed her mouth, defiantly shaking her head.

Simon sighed.  Reaching into his pocket he brought out a switchblade and opened it with a ominous click.

Michelle gave a little gasp of horror then opened her mouth to take the gag.

He smiled. "Smart move lady." It took some effort to get the ball fully in her mouth. Her eyes widened and she shook her head so convincingly I felt she probably wasn't acting. Still, once the ball was in place he worked at keeping it there. Wrapping her lower face with turn after turn of black tape until her little ummmppph sounds were almost inaudible. Then he took the last piece of rope and tied it tightly around her middle leaving one long length at the front. Taking this trailing end he tied a strategic knot in it then pulled the cord between her legs.

Michelle breathed in sharply then started to protest.

"Uummmphhhh." she moaned weakly but he ignored her. He pulled the rope tight, forcing her rubber panties deep into her crack, then tied the end of he cord to her wrists. Now almost any movement would cause the rope and those devilish knots to rub against her clit while the rubber protected her delicate sex from rope burns. It was a neat idea and I made a note to try it myself.

With a smile of triumph he pulled the final knot tight, "There doll... something to think about while I'm gone."

Michelle could only moan and struggle weakly.

Still smiling he picked up the battered screen and carried it over to where the helpless girl lay. It took a moment to set it up, hiding that corner of the room and his unwilling victim from the rest of the studio.

"Bye, sweetheart. I've gotta go and sort out a few transport issues before I can take you away from all this. Just wait here until I get back there's a good girl. Later, if you're good, I may take the gag out and let you blow me. Bye!"

And with that he left, though he paused by the camera and turned on a radio that was on the floor nearby. Glancing in the direction of the screen he smiled. Then upped the volume on the radio a little.

Behind the screen Michelle struggled. You could hear her desperate ummphhs and grunts as she tried to wiggle towards the screen. Unfortunately almost any movement caused the knot to rub against her clit. Before she had wiggled more than a few inches the first orgasm overcame her. You could see her flushing red, could hear her labored breathing and could tell her muffled cries were no longer cries for help. As she lay recovering the door of the studio opened and a young oriental girl stepped in.

"Hello? Is there anyone here?"

"Hello? Michelle?"

Behind the screen Michelle gasped for breath, Her exertions had caused her to become covered in sweat, her auburn hair was plastered to her scalp. The girl called again and a look of recognition flickered through the captives eyes.

"Ummmmpppphhh!" Michelle screamed, "Ummmmp ommmm heeww!"

The view cut back to the oriental girl. In her shots the radio was much louder, the message clear, Michelle's weak gagged screams could not be heard in the main room.

The oriental girl checked the number on the door, frowned, then started to walk around the room. She seemed slightly taller than Michelle, five eight or so in her heels. She was dressed in a long straight skirt, lacy  blouse and a sensible tailored jacket. As she walked her two inch heels clicked on the concrete. She walked over to the wardrobe and looked inside. Her eyes widened when she saw the fetish outfits inside. With a trembling hand she touched them, caressed them. She even paused to rub a latex cat suit to her cheek.

Behind the screen Michelle was screaming as loudly as she could and straining against her bonds, still all it did was cause the knot to rub against her crotch. We got a close-up of the cord disappearing into her latex lined crack before with a groan she started into her second self inflicted orgasm. As she crested we cut back to the oriental girl, who maybe hearing something had turned towards the screen. Even though she could barely hear her friend Michelle struggled and screamed with all her might.

"Ummmmpppphhh. Ummmp Heee."

The oriental girl's heels clicked closer to the screen when....

"What are you doing here?" Simon snapped.

"Oh I'm sorry," the Chinese girl said, "My name is Selina, I'm a friend of Michelle's I was supposed to meet her here?"

"Why?" he asked.

"She said it was common for models to bring friends as chaperones. The friend who usually comes is not available. She asked if I would come instead. I was delayed a little."

He smiled, "Well as you can see she isn't here." The view cut to behind the screen where a helpless Michelle could hear the conversation. Her body quaked and another muffled scream emerged to be drowned out by the radio. Sobbing she tried to scream again.

"Where is she?" Selina asked.

"Wish I knew. These studios are hired by the hour, I've wasted one hour already and she still isn't here. Behind the screen Michelle groaned.

The view switched back to the studio. Simon seemed to be packing equipment away.

Selina licked her lips, "Look this isn't like her. Perhaps we should call the hospitals, the police?"

Unnoticed by Selina Simon's eyes widened.

"I don't think that will be necessary. She was probably delayed same as you. The problem is that she's cost me a lot of money. I'm going to have to report it to her agency if I'm to claim it on my insurance."

Selina looked worried, "R...report it? What will they do?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. But I have heard that unreliable models are sometimes blacklisted."

"B...blacklisted?"

"Yeah, means that they can't work as models any more. Pity, I'm sure your friend is a good kid, but I have to have pictures of a girl today or my schedule slips and if I loose my commission or hit a penalty payment then I will have to report it. I mean I only need reference shots almost any girl would do."

Still kneeling as if he were packing things away he glanced slyly up at the worried oriental.

You could see the thoughts running through Selina's head. Finally she said, "Would *I* do? I mean could I fill in for her? I could do that until she turns up?"

Simon gave her a hard look as if he was thinking about it. "Wellllll, I suppose we could give it a try. At least I could get some shots today?"

Behind the screen Michelle quaked, her body struggling, mouth straining to scream behind the gag, every muscle dedicated to warning her friend. In the background you could hear Simon say, "Why don't you come and choose an outfit."

Selina looked through the wardrobe picking out what she needed. Simon had encouraged her to got for extremely sexy and she picked up and rejected several selections before she found what she wanted. In the end she settled on a tight leather basque style corset that left her breasts hanging free, a matching pair of side lacing leather panties and a pair of thigh length PVC thigh boots.

Satisfied, Selina showed her selection to Simon who nodded his appreciation.

"Shall I change behind the screen?" she asked pointing to the corner.

Behind the screen Michelle struggled, "Ummmpppphh," she moaned, nodding. She seemed to be begging her friend to come closer.

Simon frowned, "Err no... I have some sensitive equipment set up back there. Why not change behind the wardrobe door while I'm getting the camera ready?"

Selina nodded and swung the wardrobe door into position. "Ok...... You know I feel kind of naughty doing this....I mean Michelle is the wild one... people just say I'm cute."

Behind the screen Michelle suddenly had an idea. Rather than trying to wiggle around the screen as she had before she headed straight for it hoping to barge it aside with her bound body. Again the crotch rope slid backwards and forwards dragging the girl towards another forced orgasm. She started panting her body flushed and covered in sweat, hoping to reach the screen before the orgasm stole her strength.

"There..." Selina said, "Now I just need to lace up the corset."

"Want some help?" Simon asked.

Selina giggled, "Sure.... now I feel really naughty."

Smiling Simon shoved his knee into Selina's back and pulled on the corset stays. Selina ummpphhed as the air was forced from her lungs and her figure assumed the classic hourglass shape. "Ok is that too tight?" he asked.

"I don't think so," Selina said admiring her reflection in the mirror."

Simon flashed and evil grin. "Well, there's a sure fire way to find out."

Behind the screen Michelle wriggling wildly, face flushed with desire and shame. She now desperately needing to come but she was so close. If she didn't get to the screen before the man completed his evil plan for Selina then they would both be lost. She struggled forwards her shoulder now touching the screen. One good push..... She tried and the screen tottered for a moment but her movement had been just a little too much. With a muffled scream of frustration, pleasure and defeat Michelle trembled as the wonderful waves of orgasm consumed her.

Simon smiled, "Put your hands on your ass and arch your back. If you feel it pinch anywhere then it's too tight."

Nodding Selina complied, shivering slightly at the sound of the leather creaking. Then suddenly Simon made his move.

"Ok.......seems al... what? ...no you're hurting me!!! What are you doing?" Seizing her wrists he quickly handcuffed them behind her. "No stop!  Take them off now. HellUmmmmpphhh!!!"

Smiling Simon clamped his hand over her mouth. Selina struggled a moment but the handcuffs were tight. Reaching into the wardrobe Simon grabbed a handful of scarves. Spinning the Chinese girl around he started to force the balled up scarves into her mouth.

" Ummmpphhh," Selina cried chewing on the scarves, "Ummm I eeee."

Simon slipped his arm around her head so that his forearm held the scarves in her mouth. With two free hands he was able to take a long scarf and twirl it into a thin cloth band.

"You talk too much sweetheart," he told her as he tied a large knot in the middle of the silk band, "let's see what we can do about that!" Smiling he stuffed the knot into the girl's already stuffed mouth then pulled hard on the trailing ends forcing the knot deep into her mouth. Finally he tied the ends in a firm knot.

"Ummmphhh," Selina said, shaking her head in an attempt to dislodge the gag. Simon spun her around and checked his workmanship. Apparently satisfied he dragged the struggling girl towards the screen.

Michelle lay recovering from her orgasm as the screen was pulled aside. She looked up to see Selina looking down on her. She groaned when she saw that her friend was also bound and gagged.

"There," Simon said, "Seems I did know where your friend was after all." The two girls looked at each other and exchanged muffled grunts.

"Oh isn't this cute, a reunion, unfortunately I won't be able to hang around and watch how it develops. I need to go and arrange some transport for you two ladies." Smiling he ran a finger over Selina's gag. "Still I don't think I'll miss too much. I doubt the conversation will be up to much." He laughed.

"Ummmmmpphhh?" Selina demanded.

He smiled, "No little one you aren't nearly secure enough to leave. Still that's easily fixed."

He forced Selina to her knees next to Michelle and grabbed the tape from the bag.

The girls exchanged helpless looks as he wrapped the tape around Selina's arms from elbows to wrists like he had with Michelle. By the time he was finished both girls are sobbing with frustration. Laughing, he crossed Selina's ankles and taped her legs from knees to ankles.

Finally he reached into the bag and pulled out another sponge rubber ball.

"Pays to be prepared ladies," he said looking at Selina, "you never know when someone will butt in."

With one hand he unfastened the scarf and removed the packing but before Selina could scream the ball was pushed into her mouth and tape was wrapped around her head.

Finally he smiled down at the helpless oriental, "Sorry I don't have anymore rope babe otherwise I'd have given you a crotch rope. As you can see your friend likes it."

Selina looked down at Michelle's damp crotch and her eyes widened. Michelle could only give an embarrassed shrug.

Suddenly Simon chuckled, "Why not! It would give you girls a little togetherness!"

Smiling he untied Michelle's hog-tie and crotch rope. Groaning the girl straightened her legs but the relief was short lived. Laying the girl's back to back he threaded Michelle's crotch rope through Selina's legs, placing another strategic knot before tying the line off to the pretty Oriental's waist. The rope was tight enough to force Selina's leather panties deep into her pussy. The hog-tie rope was used to tie their necks together. Keeping them back to back.

Standing he nodded his satisfaction.

 

"There, I'm sure you'll find that position interesting. Now I need to arrange some way of getting you out of the building -- don't want anyone to see you in that condition do we?"

Laughing he left, putting the screen back in place and raising the volume on the radio.

         ######

"I like it," I said looking up at the screen. The two girl's were wiggling and we were getting lots of shots of crotch ropes sliding through pussies and girl's grunting their frustration/pleasure through tight tape gags.

"How often does she make these?" I asked Weasel.

"I figure one every three months or so. They make them in San Francisco and it's hard for her to get there and get time off. Why?"

"Oh, just wondering if we could get her a job doing something similar closer to home." I smiled imagining little Michelle allowing herself to be tied up before we kidnapped her.

Weasel shook his head. "The problem is that this is a small business. Almost everyone knows everyone and she is well connected. I figured the best way would be to befriend her over the Internet. She hangs out in a couple of bondage chat rooms and bulletin boards. I thought we could maybe see about getting to her through that. She is very lonely at the moment, perhaps more horny than careful?"

"Humm. Definitely an idea." I said, though a wilder, crazier idea was brewing in the back of my mind.

Still it seemed the video was almost at an end. I turned my attention back to the screen.

               #################

Simon had returned with a large equipment box on wheels.

Smiling, he opened the top. "Your carriage awaits ladies."

The two girls shook their heads and moaned when they saw the box realizing immediately that they were going to be put inside.

Laughing he cut the ropes binding the girl's together. Then reaching down he easily picked up the struggling Selina and carried her to the waiting box. He lowered her inside, pausing to adjust a few things and to retrieve the tape. He worked for a while before returning for Michelle. To her surprise he cut the cords binding her legs then quickly taped each ankle to it's thigh. Then lifting her easily he carried her to the box.  Inside Selina has been laid flat in the bottom, her body strapped down with wide Velcro straps. Her ankles had been taped to her thighs and some extra straps held her knees open. The leather panties have been removed and her naked crotch and fine triangle of black hair lies exposed.

Carefully, Simon lowered Michelle on top of Selina with her face at Selina's crotch level. Michelle's panties were cut off and more straps were wrapped around the pair binding them together. Michelle's face was buried in Selina's crotch and vica versa. Simon looked down and laughed evilly.

"There ladies, this will allow you a little entertainment while we travel. I've been looking for a lezzie couple to train as my personal cock slaves and by the time this trip is over I might just get my wish."

Laughing he closed the lid of the case.

By the magic of video there seemed to be enough light in the box to see what was happening.

Tentatively Michelle reached down and rubbed her taped mouth against Selina's pussy. The little Chinese girl shook her head and moaned into her gag. Selina's eyes widen in shock as Michelle continued to rub her taped mouth on the oriental's uncovered crotch. It was a hard insistent rubbing that caused the bound girl to tremble.

"Ummmppphhhh!"  Michelle moaned her encouragement. Stimulated, Selina threw her head back, eyes closed, writhing. Flushed with need and shame the Chinese girl slowly moved her crotch rubbing her pussy against Michelle's gag. But Michelle wanted more. Moaning she thrust her naked shaved pussy into Selina's face then wiggled her pelvis suggestively.

"Ummmmpphhh!"  Michelle moaned as she buried her face deep in Selina's pussy. Selina seemed strangely attracted by Michelle's naked, bald sex and slowly moved her chin into contact, rubbing tentatively.

"Arggghhhh," Michelle grunted as she stepped up the pace.

Outside the box paused while an elevator came up. A group of models and their boyfriends were sitting nearby at a coffee machine chatting. Simon looked nervously at the box.

Inside, the muffled sound of the people outside, filtered through. Both girls tried to wiggle and scream but the sound didn't make it outside. Finally the elevator arrived and a grateful Simon rolled the box inside.

Michelle's gagged mouth rubbed harder... the smooth tape sliding over Selina's sex. No longer able to contain herself, the little oriental came hard. Her body trembling against the bonds, her cries muffled by the gag and Michelle's crotch. Sensing that her friend had cum Michelle groaned and thrust her crotch in Selina's face again.  Eyes wide with shock, obviously not believing what was happening Selina started to rub her mouth over Michelle's sex, obviously turned on by the scent of the other woman's nectar. Michelle juiced quickly.... you could see her excitement in the trembling of her body... the gasps for breath and the muffled gagged moans of pleasure. The rubbing continued for a few minutes and then Michelle's back strained against the imprisoning straps and she give a muffled scream of pleasure.

The girl's collapsed exhausted.

By now the elevator had stopped and Simon wheeled the box into a large front lobby. Seeing two casually dressed guys sitting on a couch he called them over.

"Hey, can you help me put this box in my van?"

Inside the box Selina was the first to recover. She tried to scream hoping to attract the men's attention but all that emerged was a muffled sound. As Michelle recovered she tried too.

The two men fanned out approaching Simon from two angles. The kidnapper suddenly seemed nervous.

"What's in there?" The first man asked.

Simon swallowed. "Why?"

The second man smiled, "Studio security!"

Simon gave an easy smile, "Oh nothing.... just thought I'd kidnap a couple of the models and take them home with me. Got 'em bound and gagged in here..... wanna see?"

Inside the box we got a view of the captives struggling and screaming but when the view cut to outside not a sound could be heard.

The first man grinned, "No need for that... got a receipt for that box?"

"Sure," Simon said, passing the men a piece of paper.

The security guard checked the paper and we got another view of the desperate captives.

"OK... seems in order.... Larry, you grab that end."

" Ommmppphh this is heavy." Larry said, "If I were you I'd put your kidnapped lovelies on a diet."

Simon laughed, "Don't worry... I intend to fuck a few pounds off them when I get them home."

                       ##############

Of course the ending was predictable. The hapless security men help the kidnapper load the van and he drives off with his collection of lovelies. Still the production values were good and it had given me a few ideas for how to deal with Michelle. I looked down to find myself hard. Nancy was hovering waiting for me to ask her to relieve my tension. However I had someone else in mind.

                       #################

I walked into Angel's stark cell. She was completely free and completely naked awaiting my pleasure.

"Hello slave." I said jovially.

"I am not....." she started, then she turned completely white.

"Kneel slave I don't have time to argue."

"N....no.... I...arrgghh."

Angel doubled over, one arm covering her nipples, the other her crotch. She started to twitch and howl. "M....make it stop..... oh ...p.....please make it stop."

For a second I just stood and watched while her body shuddered. If I left it too long she could die from shock. Still I wanted to make a point.

Finally I stepped forward and offered the back of my hand. "Kiss it slave as a mark of respect for your Master." Trembling and wracked with pain she somehow managed to press her lips against my flesh. The effect was amazing. Instantly the trembling and convulsions stopped. Not only that there was a brief flash of arousal, enough to put a flush on her cheeks and harden her pierced nipples.

"W....what have you done to me?" She asked  and again she went white. Trembling she grabbed for my hand but I pulled it back. Again she clutched breasts and pussy.

"Ohhhh please.... oh God please....."

"Beg," I said, "Beg your Master. Ask permission to kiss my hand."

Tears streamed down her face, "Oh ggg...god! P..please Master, Please can I kiss your hand?"

Reaching forward I offered it again, she kissed but the pain did not subside. She looked up eyes wild trying to understand. Finally I said, "Yes, slave you may kiss my hand."

Quickly she kissed it and flushed as before.

I smiled evilly, "Before you say anything else I must warn you that if you do not address me as "Master" you will be punished again. Now you were saying?"

She licked her lips, "What have you done to me Master?" She was too weak to resist.

I smiled, "You've been brainwashed slave. A little procedure the good doctor worked out. It's very interesting, doesn't effect the conscious mind at all just the subconscious. If you cross me, disobey me, even think of doing something against me then your subconscious will punish you first with nausea, then with extreme pain and finally with fear, soul destroying heart stopping fear. And I'm not kidding, if I don't stop it you will die in agony."

Her eyes widened. "You bastard." She said and immediately turned white again. "Oh God... please I didn't mean it..."

"Tell me how much you love me and I'll let you kiss my hand."

"Oh Master I love you I'll do whatever you want, whoever you want just please, please let me kiss your hand." By now the pain had started. Not being a vindictive type I offered my hand.

"You may kiss my hand slave."

She did then collapsed into a ball at my feet crying. I looked down at her. "You brought this on yourself," I said, "I offered you an easy option and you refused it"

"H..how long will it last Master?" She sobbed.

"Forever slave, though in time your conscious mind will adjust so that you won't even attempt anything that would trigger a reaction. The subconscious is the foundation of the mind, change that and the rest will follow. In addition we programmed in a couple of keywords which will make large scale changes to the way you function."

I paused, "For example *baby*."

She twitched. "Oh...... Ohhhhhhhh nooooooooo." She started to go white so I offered the hand again. Soon her conscious mind would learn and she would address me as "Master" without thinking.

"What have you done ....Master?"

I smiled evilly, "As we speak the most important thing is your life is..."

"To have a baby.... your baby Master." She flushed as a huge wave of pleasure engulfed her. We had planted a new imperative in her. From now on having a strong healthy baby for me was her ambition and drive. I knew her conscious mind rebelled but that was hardly important, soon it would cave in under the double assault of pleasure and pain.

"Well slave?"

She knelt trembling. " I *need* you to fuck me master. I need you to plant your seed in me so that my body can bare our offspring. Good, strong healthy children for my Master to love."

She seemed shocked at what she had just said. There was more to come.

"What is your womb slave?"

"This slave's womb belongs to her Master. It is the receptacle of his seed, the nurturing place of our children."

"What is your body slave?"

"This slave's body belongs to her Master. It exists to support the womb, it is the slave's duty to maintain the body, to keep it strong and healthy so that it can provide the Master with strong healthy children."

She looked up horrified.

I raised a finger. "Before you say anything, think!"

"Yes Master." She pouted, "Why Master? Why did you do this to me?"

I smiled, "You are my property and your womb is my property. Eventually all my girls will give me children but you are the first. You are strong, intelligent and resourceful and those are properties I admire and want in my children. As those properties are also what makes you so difficult I took the trouble of securing my ownership by securing your mind. This soon after indoctrination you can still tell that the imperative to have my children has been implanted but the doctor says that will pass. In a few weeks you will firmly believe that this is your idea.

Smiling I walked to the cot. "You will be taken back to the more comfortable cell tomorrow. For now. Let's make babies."

I smiled as I watched the wave of pleasure crash over her.

                               Magus By Quin

                               ==============

Chapter 3 : "Michelle"

=================

I unlocked the door and stepped inside. The cell was sparse, an army cot, a wash stand and a bucket. She had wanted it that way. She had refused the comfortable quarters I'd prepared, shunned my advances as if she had any choice.

Infuriating bitch.

So I'd brought her here to the bare storeroom to show her just how bad it could be if she continued to defy me. I had put her here three weeks ago and she was still resisting. I admit that I was impressed, I doubt that I could have taken it that long. She knelt where I'd left her, not surprising given the amount of leather I'd used to restrain her body. Her knees must really be hurting by now, and her nipples of course. I looked at the two recent rings that went through her nipples, strong wire bound them to the ceiling above her head. The wire was so tight that things started out at "painful" and if she moved at all, hell if she even breathed deeply, then things could escalate through "real painful" to "agony." I hadn't wanted to pierce her, it isn't one if my fetishes, but I knew that she hated the idea and so I'd used it against her. The same with the gag, down here in the soundproofed basement there was no way that she could be heard but I knew she hated to be gagged so I had strapped a padded leather gag over her mouth. The gag matched the leather blindfold, the cuffs, the ankle restraints and the other straps that held her immobile.

She shivered sensing my presence. I walked over to her, slapping the crop against my leather pants, letting her know I was coming. She moved and immediately regretted it. I just stood in front of her for a few minutes before I removed the gag.

"Y...you bastard, she croaked through dry lips. Let me g..go."

"No way Angel," I said, "you're mine now."

"Fuck you," she managed to spit, "My name is Hanna ....oawwhh." I cut her off, bringing the crop down on her distended breasts. She screamed. I did it again and again and again until she just shut up and sobbed.

"You know that there's a nicely decorated little cell waiting for you in the main room. Nice soft bed, good food, limited freedom. All you have to do is two things. Just suck me as I asked and call me Master."

"Bring that thing near me and I'll bite it off I swear and as to calling you "master" you can dream on asshole 'cos I'd bite off my own tongue first."

"Perhaps I should save you the trouble and cut it out?" I said coldly.

She stiffened at that and I watched her quake, that was how the nipples had started with her almost challenging me to pierce her. I suppose she realized that too. I looked down on her blindfolded face.

"Unfortunately Angel I'm a patient man but you've challenged me for too long. The time has come to show you that your cooperation is not required."

With that I grabbed her jaw, forcing her mouth open. Before she could react I forced the ring gag between her teeth and buckled the strap behind her head. Realizing what was about to happen she shook her head but by then it was far, far too late. Opening my fly I thrust my dick through the hole in the center of the gag. Using her hair and ears as handles I forced her head backwards and forwards over my erection. This of course caused the nipple wires to pull tight and added to her agony. I kept it up for 15 minutes until she was sobbing and barely resisting me. Then I came, coating her throat with my cum and making her choke and splutter. Reaching into my pocked I found a large rubber dildo that I pushed through the opening in the ring. The end of the dildo was keyed and locked into a receptacle in the inner section of the ring gag turning it effectively into a dildo gag.

Bending down I hissed in the sobbing woman's ear, "Listen bitch, I can do this again tomorrow, and the next day and the next. I don't need your permission to use your body, I own it now, if you cooperate then things get a little easier for both of us that's all." There was no indication that she had heard, no suggestion that she was even conscious any more. Cursing I let her go and stormed towards the open cell door.

In the doorway Nancy waited dressed in her usual outfit of cupless leather corset, thigh boots and gloves. She was holding a whip and waiting expectantly.

"Keep whipping her until you are tired, then give her some water and leave her like that."

"Yes Master," Nancy said and eagerly entered the room. Stepping out I turned to the graying man in the white lab coat who had been waiting outside.

"Well doctor?" I asked.

The doctor smiled. "Da, what you ask is possible," he said in a thick Russian accent, "when I worked for the Bureau of Psychological Studies the KGB brought us many cases, many as willful as her. It is possible, but it would destroy her and that I sense you do not want."

I nodded, Angel was a tough nut, a challenge, someone that I could probably spend my life breaking down. Except I didn't have the stomach for it. I hated the violence and just wished that she was smart enough to work in her own best interest.

Sighing I turned to him,  "Is there an alternative?"

He smiled again. "In a man, no. In many ways the male is too selfish to surrender himself to another. In a woman there is a way. We can condition her such that disobedience or violence against you is unthinkable but there is one simple step which with the right hypnotic and aversion therapy could be used to enslave her will to yours forever...."

As the first of Nancy's blows fell we walked away plotting the subjugation of Angel.

########################################################################  

The opening was of course spectacular. A few well placed calls had brought together the cream of the New York art world and a handful of hot stars from Hollywood. The local press suddenly found itself fighting with national magazines and the tabloids for pictures. The whole event was probably the biggest thing to have happened in that small south western town for decades.

Harry Donovan looked pleased, basking in the sudden media attention. For now I allowed him his moment in the sun. Wisely he let me handle all of the interviews and sound bites, after all the press would rather talk with an international star than some gallery owner. Still he was gracious about it even managing to keep Samantha away. Sam and Becky hovered in the background looking for an excuse to get in camera. In Sam the feeling of frustration was almost tangible though in Becky it was more subdued. This seemed to confirm my idea that she would be easy to break of her mother's bad habits. For now though she would have to wait. I had business to discuss with daddy.

#########################################################################

"You want half?" Harry asked, looking up from the contract with a dumb struck expression on his face. I nodded, there was nothing else to say.

"Half of the gallery?" he asked again as if being specific was going to change anything.

"Yes Harry, the cost of this little exercise is half of the gallery, I thought I had made that clear."

Harry's face flushed red, "I thought you were joking God damn it. I thought you were my friend. Who the fuck started you in this business? Who gave you your big break for God sake? ME that's who! You owe me pal, big time!"

He took a step forward but found a big black mountain suddenly blocking his way. Harry suddenly went very pale as his eyes scanned up Tiny's body until he was looking at the bodyguard's smiling face. Tiny is seven feet tall and almost as wide, it surprises a lot of people that a man that big can move as fast as he does.

I fought down the anger that was building in my gut. Yes, fifteen years ago Harry Donovan had hosted my first exhibition, my big break as he called it. Back then I  was so broke I was eating garbage so when Harry had suggested that he would keep half of whatever he could sell my paintings for it had sounded like a good deal. After all, fifty percent of something is better than 100 percent of nothing. When he'd managed to sell a few canvasses I had been really grateful, the few hundred dollars I made had kept a roof over my head and put real food on the table. Yes, back then I'd been truly grateful, it was only later when I'd discovered that he'd sold the set for twenty thousand that I'd felt betrayed. It had taken fifteen years to get my revenge.

I looked Harry over as he stood trembling in front of Tiny. The last few years hadn't been kind to him, several artists had stopped using his gallery, for some reason most of the influential traveling exhibitions now passed him by. With such bad luck a more paranoid man might have thought that someone had it in for him. Unfortunately Harry wasn't paranoid, just tired and prematurely aged. I felt a wave of satisfaction.

Smiling I signaled Tiny to step aside. "Look Harry, we are friends, hell you know I'll always be grateful to you." I kept my voice level and friendly watching as some of his anger subsided. I took a step forward. "So, when you looked me up after all of these years I was puzzled. I made a few calls." I paused, letting him stew for a second, "Harry, I know the gallery is five million in debt." Harry went white and I had to fight hard to hold back a smile.

"How..?" he started. I held up my hand.

"That isn't important right now, all that's important is that we have to get you out of this mess. If the banks knew how badly you where exposed they'd shut you down in an instant."  I paused, "Harry, you know me, I'm not the kind of person who makes judgments but my accountants tell me that the same assets have been used as security in several different loans. If the banks choose to be vindictive they could prosecute you for fraud. That means hard jail time not to mention all the heartbreak for Samantha and Becky."

I think the mention of his wife and daughter finally drove the seriousness of his situation home. "Oh God!" Harry whispered, leaning hard on his desk, "Oh God."

"Don't worry," I said smiling, "I want to help. For fifty percent of the gallery I'm willing to cover all of your debts and inject a little additional capital. Using my contacts I'm sure I can put some business your way. In a few years when you're back on your feet you can buy me out for the same amount as I'm putting in. Sort of an interest free loan?"

He looked up. I could tell he was suspicious but at that moment he really, really wanted to believe. "Why?" he asked.

I smiled, "Harry, I was starving when you found me, as desperate as you are now. You cut me a deal remember? Fifty fifty? Seems the least I can do for you now."

"Where do I sign?"

I resisted the impulse to smile.

Harry being a cautious soul read though all the documents in turn but they were all straight forward. However, when he got to the third contact I could see him stiffen.

"What's this," he asked his voice trembling.

I shrugged. "Simple power of attorney with respect to issues of Becky's education," I said as if it was nothing much at all.

He looked up, genuine fear in his eyes, I could fuck all I wanted with Harry but his family was the only thing in his life he truly cared about. He would fight to the death to protect them.

That was his weakness.

I let my smile harden, "You stole the girl's college fund Harry, next summer she's probably going to be working at Mickey Dees." It was harsh I know but I needed to drive it home.

"But the money....." he started.

"...is for the company Harry," I completed. "You are going to have to sort out your own personal affairs."

He swallowed, his face suddenly pale again. Samantha, his wife was a well known social climber. Becky's large college fund had been set up to allow his daughter to attend the Ivy League school of her mother's choice. The plundering of the fund probably spelt the end of his marriage and just the thought of that was enough to make him desperate.

"Relax," I said flashing him a Judas smile, "the power of attorney will allow me to oversee and pay for your daughter's education. My lawyers tell me that it's necessary if I'm to pay Becky's tuition without Samantha knowing. If you sign then all the fees will be met and Sam need never know that the money isn't coming from the college fund."

The look of gratitude on his face warmed my heart, he was so desperate his hand shook as he signed and dated the contract. Of course what I told him was true, just not the complete truth. What he didn't realize was that the document also gave me custody of the child in the event of her parent's death. In a few months, when Harry and Sam had their little "accident" sweet little Becky would come to live with me. I could imagine the teen kneeling before me, naked but for a leather collar, her eyes looking up in adoration as her cherry lips worshipped my erect cock. I looked forward to putting my mark on her ass. Yes, little Becky would get an education all right.

Harry signed the last paper and I could barely resist a smile of victory. Somehow I managed to hold my face still as I returned the documents to my case and handed it to Tiny.

"Ok partner," I said with a warm smile, "I do believe we have an exhibition to open."

###########################################################################

We mingled and chatted with the guests. Just about everyone who was anyone was there from the mayor downwards. I did my part, circulating, meeting and greeting each in turn, pumping flesh, kissing. They were almost lining up to meet me, and I was soon almost blind from the flashbulbs.

I don't know when I first noticed her. I think I'd looked every woman in the room over once and sort of checked them off as we met. As the exhibition started to wind down I realized there was one missing.

She was standing in front of one of my early works, looking at it with a clinical intensity. I drifted up behind her allowing myself the luxury of looking *her* over. I figured she was in her late twenties, perhaps five three, weighed one twenty maybe one twenty five. I started to walk around her so I could see her face when suddenly she spoke to me.

"This is good," she said.

"Thank you."

She didn't seem even slightly surprised that I was there. Instead she raised an eyebrow, "An early work?"

"Yes," I said.

"Hummm, before you sold out. Pity, you had talent."

I found my face flushing. "I'm sorry miss?"

She didn't answer instead she sipped from a glass of wine she was carrying.

I tried a different tack. "So tell me, are there any exhibitions with your name on the door. If so I'd like to know that name so I can go to your exhibition and make sweeping allegations."

She ignored me for a moment, her eyes taking in every inch of the canvas. "No I have no exhibitions I'm an editor for an arts magazine."

"Ahha," I said, "Those that can't do it write about it...."

"....and those who can't write, edit." She completed. "That's probably true. Except that even an editor can see that you've let your standards slip in recent years to take advantage of the high prices asked for your works."

That stung. I found myself angry with her, not because she was wrong but because she was right. My artist's sole agreed with her even if my showman's side was offended.

"Could you turn around? It's hard to be mad with the back of your head."

She turned and flashed me a smile. It was hard to describe her. Auburn hair cut in a short bob with bangs framed a heart shaped face. She brought the glass up to her kewpie doll mouth, red lips almost kissing the Champaign as she drank. Her eyes, large, brown and kind of almond shaped looked up at me, dark, intelligent and suggestive. For a second I thought that this was some kind of come on. You know, get a star fuck by playing hard to get, but then she giggled, spun on her heels and was off leaving a faint smell of “Opium” behind.

I found myself mad, infuriated and incredibly turned on. Tattooing a number on this one's ass held a very special appeal, enough of one to perhaps take some risks.

Before she disappeared completely I caught Harry Donovan's eye. He came over. "Harry, who is that?" I asked.

"Who?"

"The oriental looking girl with the auburn hair, the one who's leaving now."

"Oh Michelle?" Harry said laughing.

"Michelle?" I asked not seeing the joke.

"She's an assistant editor in the town's only arts magazine. Sometimes when they don't have someone to cover an opening she does it. Basically she doesn't turn down a free lunch."

He laughed again.

"And that's it? The famous Harry Donovan grapevine only has that?" I asked.

"Oh I can't speak ill of a lady," Harry said sipping his wine. "Fortunately she's not a lady."

He flashed the departing Michelle a lecherous look. "The magazine work pays the bills and keeps the local clothes stores happy but she also picks up a little extra money as an artists model. Doesn't make much that way but she is very popular if you catch my drift."

I ignored the innuendo and Harry felt the need to expand on his comment. "I have heard that she dances on tables at some of the local bars, I've even head of the occasional private strip shows but that isn't the best part, one of the artists she used to date told me that she *begged* him to tie her up. I mean begged." He laughed, "She's basically the town slut. Don't tell me that you fell for her? Is she going to be the next of your famous *masked women?*"

I ignored him, the exhibition had been too successful and Harry had over indulged the wine. A second later he put his hand on my shoulder. "If you want her I'm sure you can make her a deal, everyone else has."

My blood boiled and for some reason I found myself fighting the urge to hit him. Whatever Harry thought of Michelle she'd been right about the painting and dead right about me. She had probably forgotten more about art than Harry had ever known. And she had an incredible ass, the kind of ass that just begged to be numbered.

##################################################################################

I looked down on Angel's naked body. She had stopped struggling, I think she had finally realized that there was no point as the straps that held her spread-eagled to the bed would probably have held Tiny. Her body was covered in sweat, her strawberry blonde hair stuck to her skull. I looked at her face but it was covered in a contraption half high tech and half pure kinky. The kinky half was a leather pad gag with a large sponge rubber dildo mouthpiece that had been crammed into her oral cavity then buckled tightly behind her head. The high tech part was the VR helmet that covered her eyes and ears bombarding her poor tired mind with images and sounds that would help me subjugate her will. My eyes wandered down. Some of the electrodes fastened to her breasts were benign, simple connections to heart monitors, others however like the ones fastened to her nipples had a more sinister purpose. As I watched her body contorted against the straps, a muffled scream coming through the gag. That must be the aversion part of the treatment. Down at her crotch I saw the end of the huge nobly dildo we'd jammed in her vagina. Each noble was an electrode able to dispense pleasure of pain with equal precision. A similar device attached to her clit ensured that it didn't feel left out. Wires from these devices and the tube from the Urethral catheter wove their way down the helpless girl's leg before disappearing over the side of the bed.   I glanced over at the doctor who was checking various instruments set up next to the bed and making notes on a clipboard. Nodding he reached up and slightly increased the flow of an IV that hung from a stand near the bed. The drug slipped into Angel's bloodstream robbing her of her will and ability to resist the commands the helmet was giving her.

"How long?" I asked.

"She has been in this state for almost five days," the doctor said, "She has been awake that whole time, though in effect she has also been asleep. The imperatives we give her are going straight into her subconscious mind."

"I meant how long until she's ready?"

The doctor chuckled, "Ah of course, always the practical consideration. In two more days we can let her rest. Then we can try out what we have done."

"Thank you doctor." I smiled, "The first part of your payment is in your Swiss account, the second will be authorized on completing a successful test. Shall we say the end of the week?"

"Da... we will be ready."

Smiling I took my leave.

#############################################################################

The picture was an extreme close-up of Michelle's face. Her eyes were covered by a wide cloth blindfold her mouth gagged with what seemed to be a knotted black rubber strip.

"Where did you get this?" I asked amazed.

Weasel shrugged, "A bondage web site in San Francisco, she's apparently making fetish video's on the side. She does bondage video's with these people, golden showers with someone else."

"My, my, she *is* a kinky little bitch isn't she," Nancy said looking at the picture.

"Fancy whipping her for me Nance?"

Nancy's eyes sparkled, "Oh *yes* Master I would love to."

Reaching down to where Nancy knelt at my feet I ran my hand through her golden locks. "In that case you will be responsible for her indoctrination when she gets here. As number one girl you will explain our rules to her."

Nancy smiled, "but Master I thought you would want to do that?"

I glanced over at the second pile of pictures, the photo's of a shapely teenager taken though a long lens, by the time I collected Michelle I would also have the training of sweet Rebecca to worry about.

Still my plans for Becky could wait for now, the girl wouldn't be 18 until this summer and I needed Harry's power of attorney to be active before I had any legal claim on her ass. Nope, for now Michelle had 100% of my attention.

############################################################

Michelle walked into the room and looked nervously around. It was a standard photographic studio, the kind of place photographers and artist could hire by the hour. She had already been to the wrong studio once and now she was a little more nervous about just bursting in.

"Hello?" she asked.

The man fiddling with the camera looked up, "Yes?"

"Err.... my name is Michelle? I was sent by the agency? I was told that there was an artist here in need of a model?"

"That will be me," the man said his eyes drifting lustily over her body, "Hi, Simon Lawson."

  He offered his hand.

"Michelle Bowers," she said trying her best to smile. You could tell that she was nervous and thought the man was slightly creepy but she shook his hand anyway.

He seemed to sense her nervousness and tried to lighten the atmosphere a little.

"I'll need a few more minutes to get ready Michelle. Why don't you tell me the other work you've done?"

Michelle shrugged, "Well I've mainly modeled for artists. I've done a few photo shoots, mainly fashion spreads."

"That's fine," he said smiling, "I am an artist but I work from photo's rather than life. I find they are more willing to stand still for the several days a large painting can take. What we'll be doing today is taking perhaps half a dozen sets to be used as reference for a commission I have. Once the picture is started I may need you back for the final detailing if that's ok?"

Michelle seemed to relax now that they were talking business. "A commission? For a collector?"

Simon's smile quirked a little, "Not really, for a magazine, I'm doing the cover for the anniversary issue of Playboy."

Michelle gasped, "P....playboy!"

"Yep, the big time. I'm sorry if I seemed a little nervous but I think you can see why?"

"Oh yes!" Michelle said, "You mean I'm going to be on the cover of Playboy?"

Simon smiled, "That's right babe. Look I'm almost ready. There's a wardrobe over there, why don't you go and pick something out? They want extremely sexy and I've raided just about every costume house I can find. Find something a little extreme to start out with. We can always vary it a little for the later sets."

Michelle moved over to the wardrobe and peered inside. There seemed to be just about every kind of fetish outfit imaginable inside, latex, leather, PVC. For a second she seemed stunned.

"Problem?" he asked.

Michelle swallowed, "All the outfits are so scanty. I... I don't really think I can wear them, it would make me look so tarty."

Simon smiled, "Hey, that's what the customer is buying... pick out something....extreme."

She seemed to waver for a second, her instincts to back out fighting the prestige of getting a Playboy cover. In the end the prestige won out.

"Oh.....ok."

Reaching forward she started to pick items from the wardrobe, black clinging rubber mini skirt,  a pair of latex G string panties, seamed fishnet stockings, a leather demi cup corset and a pair of high heeled patent leather court shoes.

She turned, "Will this do?" She asked holding up her selections. Simon seemed to tremble a little but somehow kept his voice level."

"I think we could go a little more extreme on the footwear?"

"Are these shoes not okay?  Oh all right, I'll find something more outrageous. Are you sure it is Playboy?"

As she turned back to the wardrobe he leered at her in a most disturbing way, but all he said was.

"Yes, the cover!"

That seemed to decide things for her. Reaching into the bottom of the wardrobe she picked up a pair of black, thigh length leather boots with lacing from toe to lower thigh.

"Will these do?" she asked innocently.

Simon licked his lips, "I'd have to see them all together. There's a screen over there that you can change behind." He nodded towards an old battered oriental style screen that was standing in a corner of the studio.

Quivering with anticipation Michelle carried her selections towards the screen. Simon just stood and leered, obviously up to no good. Flashing a smile over her shoulder she slipped behind the screen to undress. She started by taking off the little blue business suit she was wearing and hanging it up neatly. Then she slowly slipped from her underwear.

                         ###

"You know, we could fast forward through this bit?" Nancy said pouting.

I smiled as the guys in the group turned and gave her an outraged look. On the screen the luscious Michelle was wiggling out of her undies and it was quite a thrill. The guy's turned back to the screen and leered. After all, there was the promise of her sliding into the fetish wear any moment. The camera lingered lovingly on her body as her panties slid down her legs to reveal her shaved pussy. It seemed that my take on her ass had been correct, round and firm and just crying out for a number.

Nancy pouted again so I slapped her on the ass and dispatched her to the refrigerator for more beer. Still, she was right about one thing, with no dialog to worry about there seemed no problem discussing things.

"How many of these things has she done?" I asked looking at the pile of video tapes that Weasel had brought.

Weasel somehow dragged his eyes from the screen, "Five. This is the latest, "Collecting Models" I have the rest if you want to check them out. I picked up a couple of the golden showers ones too."

Fetch screwed up his nose.

"What's golden showers?" Kerry asked innocently.

Weasel laughed.

"What?" Kerry asked, "look I only asked a..." Fetch lent over and whispered in her ear. Kerry went red. "You have to be kidding? Urrggg." She shivered, "lets skip those ones ok?"

I smiled and looked back at the screen.

                         ###

Michelle wriggled into the clingy rubber skirt. It was so tight that it dragged and pulled on her skin as it rode up.  It took some adjustment, all of which the camera followed lovingly. Topless and naked but for the skirt Michelle looked very vulnerable and very sexy.  I make a mental note to get her to wear a similar outfit once I owned her.

Next came the corset. It was obvious that she had underestimated the size of the cup and to her "surprise" found it did not quite cover her nipples.

"Richard honey? Could you see if there's another corset? This one doesn't cover everything?"

Simon smiled, "That's fine baby... a little titillation never hurt."

Shrugging, Michelle pulled the fishnets up her legs, smoothing them as she went. Next she slipped on a little leather garter belt and fastened the stockings to the elastic. Opening the boots she slowly pulled them up her long slender legs, the camera slid up the beautiful curves milking the shot for maximum effect. Next she laced them, again slowly and sensuously.

She quickly slipped on the scanty panties then somewhat unsteadily hobbled out on the 5 inch heels.

Flushing red with embarrassment she turned to face the photographer.

"There I 'm ready," she said, her voice almost a challenge, "where do you want me?"

               ####

"I know where *I* want you sweetheart," Fetch said breaking open one of the beers Nancy had brought from the kitchen.

"She isn't a bad actress is she?" Kerry asked ignoring Fetch's comments.

"Shush," Weasels said, flashing Kerry a dangerous look.

The girl pouted and sat back with her arms crossed. Attention returned to the screen.

               ####

After having her lie down on a sheepskin rug Simon posed Michelle in a number of interesting positions each showing off more and more of her body. He had her cup her breasts, the nipples of which were now hard and erect. Next he had her caress her leather covered thighs, allowing the video camera to take close-ups of the damp patch on the inside of her leg and the slickness of the latex G string. Yes, Michelle was one hot bitch, it didn't seem to take much to get her started and as the video progressed she seemed to be getting more and more excited.

Finally Simon looked up from behind the camera. "Ok.... look doll it ain't working. Lets do a few adjustments."

"Oh," Michelle said, flashing him a disappointed look, "Why?"

He sighed, "I think I need to fix that backdrop for starters." Reaching down by the side of the tripod he picked up a small bag and walked towards the girl. She watched with interest as he fastened some loose part of the background with a strip of gaffer tape.

"Ok, while I'm here let's fix that pose. Ok sweet.... try resting your face on one hand and smile at the camera." He stood back in order to see what the result looked like. Michelle lent on one arm, her face resting on the palm of her hand. Simon seemed dissatisfied. Stepping forward he reached down and adjusted on of her shoulders before stepping back again.

Michelle shivered at his touch, this was obviously more than she had counted on.

"Look, can't you just paint me with the photos you have?" she asked. These clothes are very embarrassing to wear."

He ignored her and stepped behind the reclining girl. Michelle tried to twist around and track his movements but he would have none of it.

"Hold still!" he snapped, "for God sake it will only take a minute. Just stay where I put you!"

He grabbed a wrist and moved it behind her. Michelle jumped, "What are you doing?"

"Relax," he said, "we're almost done. Just let me position you." He pulled the hand behind her.

"Oohh! Careful," Michelle moaned.

Suddenly he grabbed the other wrist pulling it back too and before the startled girl could react he fastened a pair of handcuffs tightly around her wrists.

A look of shock and realization flashed across the girl's face. "Ooh what are you doing? This isn't part of the deal! Let me go! I don't want to do this anymore!"

Smiling an evil smile Simon slapped her. "Shut the fuck up bitch. Just shut the fuck up!"

For a second she seemed stunned by the sudden change of events. She just lay panting while he pulled some cord from his bag, crossed her ankles and started to tie them together. They both grunted when he pulled the ankle ropes tight. However Michelle had managed to find her composure.

In a quieter, calmer voice she asked, "Please what are you doing?"

He laughed, "Collecting you sweetheart!"

She shivered. Her big brown eyes starting to fill with tears she looked up at him pleadingly. "What do you mean? Please? A jokes a joke, please stop this."

Still smiling he pulled out more rope and started to tie her knees.

"Please," she begged, "please let me go."

He laughed and pulled the cords tight. "Why should I do that stupid bitch? And you are a stupid bitch coming here on your own."

The camera showed a close-up of Michelle's face. She seemed about to say something but then thought better of it. With a grunt of victory Simon tied the final knot in the knee ropes.

Michelle gasped with horror, apparently realizing that she is now alone and helpless with this man.

"Please let me go," she begged as Simon started tying her elbows together, "this is kidnapping you'll be caught......

The man laughed, "Well done sweetheart! My you are smart! That's right this is a kidnapping, but I've not been caught before and I'm not about to be caught now."

"B...before?" Michelle stuttered.

Reaching into the bag he pulled out a roll of black gaffer tape. After fumbling with the cuffs for a few seconds he removed them. Michelle's wrists were still tied at the elbows and though her lower arms flapped around a little as she struggled to get free, he had no trouble pinning them together.

"W...what are you going to do to me?" She asked, almost hysterical.

He laughed, "Whatever *I* want babe but for now I'm just making sure you stay put." With that he started to tape her forearms together from elbows to wrists. Once the arms where done he hog-tied her wrists to her ankles with another length of rope.

"I have one last rope left babe, but before we get to that I think I'd better shut your yap." Reaching into the bag he pulled out a small sponge rubber ball. "Open wide sweetheart."

Michelle closed her mouth, defiantly shaking her head.

Simon sighed.  Reaching into his pocket he brought out a switchblade and opened it with a ominous click.

Michelle gave a little gasp of horror then opened her mouth to take the gag.

He smiled. "Smart move lady." It took some effort to get the ball fully in her mouth. Her eyes widened and she shook her head so convincingly I felt she probably wasn't acting. Still, once the ball was in place he worked at keeping it there. Wrapping her lower face with turn after turn of black tape until her little ummmppph sounds were almost inaudible. Then he took the last piece of rope and tied it tightly around her middle leaving one long length at the front. Taking this trailing end he tied a strategic knot in it then pulled the cord between her legs.

Michelle breathed in sharply then started to protest.

"Uummmphhhh." she moaned weakly but he ignored her. He pulled the rope tight, forcing her rubber panties deep into her crack, then tied the end of he cord to her wrists. Now almost any movement would cause the rope and those devilish knots to rub against her clit while the rubber protected her delicate sex from rope burns. It was a neat idea and I made a note to try it myself.

With a smile of triumph he pulled the final knot tight, "There doll... something to think about while I'm gone."

Michelle could only moan and struggle weakly.

Still smiling he picked up the battered screen and carried it over to where the helpless girl lay. It took a moment to set it up, hiding that corner of the room and his unwilling victim from the rest of the studio.

"Bye, sweetheart. I've gotta go and sort out a few transport issues before I can take you away from all this. Just wait here until I get back there's a good girl. Later, if you're good, I may take the gag out and let you blow me. Bye!"

And with that he left, though he paused by the camera and turned on a radio that was on the floor nearby. Glancing in the direction of the screen he smiled. Then upped the volume on the radio a little.

Behind the screen Michelle struggled. You could hear her desperate ummphhs and grunts as she tried to wiggle towards the screen. Unfortunately almost any movement caused the knot to rub against her clit. Before she had wiggled more than a few inches the first orgasm overcame her. You could see her flushing red, could hear her labored breathing and could tell her muffled cries were no longer cries for help. As she lay recovering the door of the studio opened and a young oriental girl stepped in.

"Hello? Is there anyone here?"

"Hello? Michelle?"

Behind the screen Michelle gasped for breath, Her exertions had caused her to become covered in sweat, her auburn hair was plastered to her scalp. The girl called again and a look of recognition flickered through the captives eyes.

"Ummmmpppphhh!" Michelle screamed, "Ummmmp ommmm heeww!"

The view cut back to the oriental girl. In her shots the radio was much louder, the message clear, Michelle's weak gagged screams could not be heard in the main room.

The oriental girl checked the number on the door, frowned, then started to walk around the room. She seemed slightly taller than Michelle, five eight or so in her heels. She was dressed in a long straight skirt, lacy  blouse and a sensible tailored jacket. As she walked her two inch heels clicked on the concrete. She walked over to the wardrobe and looked inside. Her eyes widened when she saw the fetish outfits inside. With a trembling hand she touched them, caressed them. She even paused to rub a latex cat suit to her cheek.

Behind the screen Michelle was screaming as loudly as she could and straining against her bonds, still all it did was cause the knot to rub against her crotch. We got a close-up of the cord disappearing into her latex lined crack before with a groan she started into her second self inflicted orgasm. As she crested we cut back to the oriental girl, who maybe hearing something had turned towards the screen. Even though she could barely hear her friend Michelle struggled and screamed with all her might.

"Ummmmpppphhh. Ummmp Heee."

The oriental girl's heels clicked closer to the screen when....

"What are you doing here?" Simon snapped.

"Oh I'm sorry," the Chinese girl said, "My name is Selina, I'm a friend of Michelle's I was supposed to meet her here?"

"Why?" he asked.

"She said it was common for models to bring friends as chaperones. The friend who usually comes is not available. She asked if I would come instead. I was delayed a little."

He smiled, "Well as you can see she isn't here." The view cut to behind the screen where a helpless Michelle could hear the conversation. Her body quaked and another muffled scream emerged to be drowned out by the radio. Sobbing she tried to scream again.

"Where is she?" Selina asked.

"Wish I knew. These studios are hired by the hour, I've wasted one hour already and she still isn't here. Behind the screen Michelle groaned.

The view switched back to the studio. Simon seemed to be packing equipment away.

Selina licked her lips, "Look this isn't like her. Perhaps we should call the hospitals, the police?"

Unnoticed by Selina Simon's eyes widened.

"I don't think that will be necessary. She was probably delayed same as you. The problem is that she's cost me a lot of money. I'm going to have to report it to her agency if I'm to claim it on my insurance."

Selina looked worried, "R...report it? What will they do?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. But I have heard that unreliable models are sometimes blacklisted."

"B...blacklisted?"

"Yeah, means that they can't work as models any more. Pity, I'm sure your friend is a good kid, but I have to have pictures of a girl today or my schedule slips and if I loose my commission or hit a penalty payment then I will have to report it. I mean I only need reference shots almost any girl would do."

Still kneeling as if he were packing things away he glanced slyly up at the worried oriental.

You could see the thoughts running through Selina's head. Finally she said, "Would *I* do? I mean could I fill in for her? I could do that until she turns up?"

Simon gave her a hard look as if he was thinking about it. "Wellllll, I suppose we could give it a try. At least I could get some shots today?"

Behind the screen Michelle quaked, her body struggling, mouth straining to scream behind the gag, every muscle dedicated to warning her friend. In the background you could hear Simon say, "Why don't you come and choose an outfit."

Selina looked through the wardrobe picking out what she needed. Simon had encouraged her to got for extremely sexy and she picked up and rejected several selections before she found what she wanted. In the end she settled on a tight leather basque style corset that left her breasts hanging free, a matching pair of side lacing leather panties and a pair of thigh length PVC thigh boots.

Satisfied, Selina showed her selection to Simon who nodded his appreciation.

"Shall I change behind the screen?" she asked pointing to the corner.

Behind the screen Michelle struggled, "Ummmpppphh," she moaned, nodding. She seemed to be begging her friend to come closer.

Simon frowned, "Err no... I have some sensitive equipment set up back there. Why not change behind the wardrobe door while I'm getting the camera ready?"

Selina nodded and swung the wardrobe door into position. "Ok...... You know I feel kind of naughty doing this....I mean Michelle is the wild one... people just say I'm cute."

Behind the screen Michelle suddenly had an idea. Rather than trying to wiggle around the screen as she had before she headed straight for it hoping to barge it aside with her bound body. Again the crotch rope slid backwards and forwards dragging the girl towards another forced orgasm. She started panting her body flushed and covered in sweat, hoping to reach the screen before the orgasm stole her strength.

"There..." Selina said, "Now I just need to lace up the corset."

"Want some help?" Simon asked.

Selina giggled, "Sure.... now I feel really naughty."

Smiling Simon shoved his knee into Selina's back and pulled on the corset stays. Selina ummpphhed as the air was forced from her lungs and her figure assumed the classic hourglass shape. "Ok is that too tight?" he asked.

"I don't think so," Selina said admiring her reflection in the mirror."

Simon flashed and evil grin. "Well, there's a sure fire way to find out."

Behind the screen Michelle wriggling wildly, face flushed with desire and shame. She now desperately needing to come but she was so close. If she didn't get to the screen before the man completed his evil plan for Selina then they would both be lost. She struggled forwards her shoulder now touching the screen. One good push..... She tried and the screen tottered for a moment but her movement had been just a little too much. With a muffled scream of frustration, pleasure and defeat Michelle trembled as the wonderful waves of orgasm consumed her.

Simon smiled, "Put your hands on your ass and arch your back. If you feel it pinch anywhere then it's too tight."

Nodding Selina complied, shivering slightly at the sound of the leather creaking. Then suddenly Simon made his move.

"Ok.......seems al... what? ...no you're hurting me!!! What are you doing?" Seizing her wrists he quickly handcuffed them behind her. "No stop!  Take them off now. HellUmmmmpphhh!!!"

Smiling Simon clamped his hand over her mouth. Selina struggled a moment but the handcuffs were tight. Reaching into the wardrobe Simon grabbed a handful of scarves. Spinning the Chinese girl around he started to force the balled up scarves into her mouth.

" Ummmpphhh," Selina cried chewing on the scarves, "Ummm I eeee."

Simon slipped his arm around her head so that his forearm held the scarves in her mouth. With two free hands he was able to take a long scarf and twirl it into a thin cloth band.

"You talk too much sweetheart," he told her as he tied a large knot in the middle of the silk band, "let's see what we can do about that!" Smiling he stuffed the knot into the girl's already stuffed mouth then pulled hard on the trailing ends forcing the knot deep into her mouth. Finally he tied the ends in a firm knot.

"Ummmphhh," Selina said, shaking her head in an attempt to dislodge the gag. Simon spun her around and checked his workmanship. Apparently satisfied he dragged the struggling girl towards the screen.

Michelle lay recovering from her orgasm as the screen was pulled aside. She looked up to see Selina looking down on her. She groaned when she saw that her friend was also bound and gagged.

"There," Simon said, "Seems I did know where your friend was after all." The two girls looked at each other and exchanged muffled grunts.

"Oh isn't this cute, a reunion, unfortunately I won't be able to hang around and watch how it develops. I need to go and arrange some transport for you two ladies." Smiling he ran a finger over Selina's gag. "Still I don't think I'll miss too much. I doubt the conversation will be up to much." He laughed.

"Ummmmmpphhh?" Selina demanded.

He smiled, "No little one you aren't nearly secure enough to leave. Still that's easily fixed."

He forced Selina to her knees next to Michelle and grabbed the tape from the bag.

The girls exchanged helpless looks as he wrapped the tape around Selina's arms from elbows to wrists like he had with Michelle. By the time he was finished both girls are sobbing with frustration. Laughing, he crossed Selina's ankles and taped her legs from knees to ankles.

Finally he reached into the bag and pulled out another sponge rubber ball.

"Pays to be prepared ladies," he said looking at Selina, "you never know when someone will butt in."

With one hand he unfastened the scarf and removed the packing but before Selina could scream the ball was pushed into her mouth and tape was wrapped around her head.

Finally he smiled down at the helpless oriental, "Sorry I don't have anymore rope babe otherwise I'd have given you a crotch rope. As you can see your friend likes it."

Selina looked down at Michelle's damp crotch and her eyes widened. Michelle could only give an embarrassed shrug.

Suddenly Simon chuckled, "Why not! It would give you girls a little togetherness!"

Smiling he untied Michelle's hog-tie and crotch rope. Groaning the girl straightened her legs but the relief was short lived. Laying the girl's back to back he threaded Michelle's crotch rope through Selina's legs, placing another strategic knot before tying the line off to the pretty Oriental's waist. The rope was tight enough to force Selina's leather panties deep into her pussy. The hog-tie rope was used to tie their necks together. Keeping them back to back.

Standing he nodded his satisfaction.

  "There, I'm sure you'll find that position interesting. Now I need to arrange some way of getting you out of the building -- don't want anyone to see you in that condition do we?"

Laughing he left, putting the screen back in place and raising the volume on the radio.

         ######

"I like it," I said looking up at the screen. The two girl's were wiggling and we were getting lots of shots of crotch ropes sliding through pussies and girl's grunting their frustration/pleasure through tight tape gags.

"How often does she make these?" I asked Weasel.

"I figure one every three months or so. They make them in San Francisco and it's hard for her to get there and get time off. Why?"

"Oh, just wondering if we could get her a job doing something similar closer to home." I smiled imagining little Michelle allowing herself to be tied up before we kidnapped her.

Weasel shook his head. "The problem is that this is a small business. Almost everyone knows everyone and she is well connected. I figured the best way would be to befriend her over the Internet. She hangs out in a couple of bondage chat rooms and bulletin boards. I thought we could maybe see about getting to her through that. She is very lonely at the moment, perhaps more horny than careful?"

"Humm. Definitely an idea." I said, though a wilder, crazier idea was brewing in the back of my mind.

Still it seemed the video was almost at an end. I turned my attention back to the screen.

               #################

Simon had returned with a large equipment box on wheels.

Smiling, he opened the top. "Your carriage awaits ladies."

The two girls shook their heads and moaned when they saw the box realizing immediately that they were going to be put inside.

Laughing he cut the ropes binding the girl's together. Then reaching down he easily picked up the struggling Selina and carried her to the waiting box. He lowered her inside, pausing to adjust a few things and to retrieve the tape. He worked for a while before returning for Michelle. To her surprise he cut the cords binding her legs then quickly taped each ankle to it's thigh. Then lifting her easily he carried her to the box.  Inside Selina has been laid flat in the bottom, her body strapped down with wide Velcro straps. Her ankles had been taped to her thighs and some extra straps held her knees open. The leather panties have been removed and her naked crotch and fine triangle of black hair lies exposed.

Carefully, Simon lowered Michelle on top of Selina with her face at Selina's crotch level. Michelle's panties were cut off and more straps were wrapped around the pair binding them together. Michelle's face was buried in Selina's crotch and vica versa. Simon looked down and laughed evilly.

"There ladies, this will allow you a little entertainment while we travel. I've been looking for a lezzie couple to train as my personal cock slaves and by the time this trip is over I might just get my wish."

Laughing he closed the lid of the case.

By the magic of video there seemed to be enough light in the box to see what was happening.

Tentatively Michelle reached down and rubbed her taped mouth against Selina's pussy. The little Chinese girl shook her head and moaned into her gag. Selina's eyes widen in shock as Michelle continued to rub her taped mouth on the oriental's uncovered crotch. It was a hard insistent rubbing that caused the bound girl to tremble.

"Ummmppphhhh!"  Michelle moaned her encouragement. Stimulated, Selina threw her head back, eyes closed, writhing. Flushed with need and shame the Chinese girl slowly moved her crotch rubbing her pussy against Michelle's gag. But Michelle wanted more. Moaning she thrust her naked shaved pussy into Selina's face then wiggled her pelvis suggestively.

"Ummmmpphhh!"  Michelle moaned as she buried her face deep in Selina's pussy. Selina seemed strangely attracted by Michelle's naked, bald sex and slowly moved her chin into contact, rubbing tentatively.

"Arggghhhh," Michelle grunted as she stepped up the pace.

Outside the box paused while an elevator came up. A group of models and their boyfriends were sitting nearby at a coffee machine chatting. Simon looked nervously at the box.

Inside, the muffled sound of the people outside, filtered through. Both girls tried to wiggle and scream but the sound didn't make it outside. Finally the elevator arrived and a grateful Simon rolled the box inside.

Michelle's gagged mouth rubbed harder... the smooth tape sliding over Selina's sex. No longer able to contain herself, the little oriental came hard. Her body trembling against the bonds, her cries muffled by the gag and Michelle's crotch. Sensing that her friend had cum Michelle groaned and thrust her crotch in Selina's face again.  Eyes wide with shock, obviously not believing what was happening Selina started to rub her mouth over Michelle's sex, obviously turned on by the scent of the other woman's nectar. Michelle juiced quickly.... you could see her excitement in the trembling of her body... the gasps for breath and the muffled gagged moans of pleasure. The rubbing continued for a few minutes and then Michelle's back strained against the imprisoning straps and she give a muffled scream of pleasure.

The girl's collapsed exhausted.

By now the elevator had stopped and Simon wheeled the box into a large front lobby. Seeing two casually dressed guys sitting on a couch he called them over.

"Hey, can you help me put this box in my van?"

Inside the box Selina was the first to recover. She tried to scream hoping to attract the men's attention but all that emerged was a muffled sound. As Michelle recovered she tried too.

The two men fanned out approaching Simon from two angles. The kidnapper suddenly seemed nervous.

"What's in there?" The first man asked.

Simon swallowed. "Why?"

The second man smiled, "Studio security!"

Simon gave an easy smile, "Oh nothing.... just thought I'd kidnap a couple of the models and take them home with me. Got 'em bound and gagged in here..... wanna see?"

Inside the box we got a view of the captives struggling and screaming but when the view cut to outside not a sound could be heard.

The first man grinned, "No need for that... got a receipt for that box?"

"Sure," Simon said, passing the men a piece of paper.

The security guard checked the paper and we got another view of the desperate captives.

"OK... seems in order.... Larry, you grab that end."

" Ommmppphh this is heavy." Larry said, "If I were you I'd put your kidnapped lovelies on a diet."

Simon laughed, "Don't worry... I intend to fuck a few pounds off them when I get them home."

                       ##############

Of course the ending was predictable. The hapless security men help the kidnapper load the van and he drives off with his collection of lovelies. Still the production values were good and it had given me a few ideas for how to deal with Michelle. I looked down to find myself hard. Nancy was hovering waiting for me to ask her to relieve my tension. However I had someone else in mind.

                       #################

I walked into Angel's stark cell. She was completely free and completely naked awaiting my pleasure.

"Hello slave." I said jovially.

"I am not....." she started, then she turned completely white.

"Kneel slave I don't have time to argue."

"N....no.... I...arrgghh."

Angel doubled over, one arm covering her nipples, the other her crotch. She started to twitch and howl. "M....make it stop..... oh ...p.....please make it stop."

For a second I just stood and watched while her body shuddered. If I left it too long she could die from shock. Still I wanted to make a point.

Finally I stepped forward and offered the back of my hand. "Kiss it slave as a mark of respect for your Master." Trembling and wracked with pain she somehow managed to press her lips against my flesh. The effect was amazing. Instantly the trembling and convulsions stopped. Not only that there was a brief flash of arousal, enough to put a flush on her cheeks and harden her pierced nipples.

"W....what have you done to me?" She asked  and again she went white. Trembling she grabbed for my hand but I pulled it back. Again she clutched breasts and pussy.

"Ohhhh please.... oh God please....."

"Beg," I said, "Beg your Master. Ask permission to kiss my hand."

Tears streamed down her face, "Oh ggg...god! P..please Master, Please can I kiss your hand?"

Reaching forward I offered it again, she kissed but the pain did not subside. She looked up eyes wild trying to understand. Finally I said, "Yes, slave you may kiss my hand."

Quickly she kissed it and flushed as before.

I smiled evilly, "Before you say anything else I must warn you that if you do not address me as "Master" you will be punished again. Now you were saying?"

She licked her lips, "What have you done to me Master?" She was too weak to resist.

I smiled, "You've been brainwashed slave. A little procedure the good doctor worked out. It's very interesting, doesn't effect the conscious mind at all just the subconscious. If you cross me, disobey me, even think of doing something against me then your subconscious will punish you first with nausea, then with extreme pain and finally with fear, soul destroying heart stopping fear. And I'm not kidding, if I don't stop it you will die in agony."

Her eyes widened. "You bastard." She said and immediately turned white again. "Oh God... please I didn't mean it..."

"Tell me how much you love me and I'll let you kiss my hand."

"Oh Master I love you I'll do whatever you want, whoever you want just please, please let me kiss your hand." By now the pain had started. Not being a vindictive type I offered my hand.

"You may kiss my hand slave."

She did then collapsed into a ball at my feet crying. I looked down at her. "You brought this on yourself," I said, "I offered you an easy option and you refused it"

"H..how long will it last Master?" She sobbed.

"Forever slave, though in time your conscious mind will adjust so that you won't even attempt anything that would trigger a reaction. The subconscious is the foundation of the mind, change that and the rest will follow. In addition we programmed in a couple of keywords which will make large scale changes to the way you function."

I paused, "For example *baby*."

She twitched. "Oh...... Ohhhhhhhh nooooooooo." She started to go white so I offered the hand again. Soon her conscious mind would learn and she would address me as "Master" without thinking.

"What have you done ....Master?"

I smiled evilly, "As we speak the most important thing is your life is..."

"To have a baby.... your baby Master." She flushed as a huge wave of pleasure engulfed her. We had planted a new imperative in her. From now on having a strong healthy baby for me was her ambition and drive. I knew her conscious mind rebelled but that was hardly important, soon it would cave in under the double assault of pleasure and pain.

"Well slave?"

She knelt trembling. " I *need* you to fuck me master. I need you to plant your seed in me so that my body can bare our offspring. Good, strong healthy children for my Master to love."

She seemed shocked at what she had just said. There was more to come.

"What is your womb slave?"

"This slave's womb belongs to her Master. It is the receptacle of his seed, the nurturing place of our children."

"What is your body slave?"

"This slave's body belongs to her Master. It exists to support the womb, it is the slave's duty to maintain the body, to keep it strong and healthy so that it can provide the Master with strong healthy children."

She looked up horrified.

I raised a finger. "Before you say anything, think!"

"Yes Master." She pouted, "Why Master? Why did you do this to me?"

I smiled, "You are my property and your womb is my property. Eventually all my girls will give me children but you are the first. You are strong, intelligent and resourceful and those are properties I admire and want in my children. As those properties are also what makes you so difficult I took the trouble of securing my ownership by securing your mind. This soon after indoctrination you can still tell that the imperative to have my children has been implanted but the doctor says that will pass. In a few weeks you will firmly believe that this is your idea.

Smiling I walked to the cot. "You will be taken back to the more comfortable cell tomorrow. For now. Let's make babies."

I smiled as I watched the wave of pleasure crash over her.