D2-670A
Part Five
Marcus was busy with Kitara when Tarrant and Rufus returned from their sweep of
the house. The processor block had recently finished its analysis of Rene's
location, but had not supplied a result he was happy with. As a result, Marcus
had decided he needed a little relaxation therapy from his most loyal slave.
Unfortunately, it had just been prematurely interrupted.
Grunting in annoyance, Marcus pulled himself out of Kitara's mouth and
refastened his pants. He then scooped up the cover-all gag from the ground and
pushed the rubber ball into his slave's mouth. She accepted the oral intrusion
without protest, allowing Marcus to quickly position the leather panel squarely
over her lips and then buckle the whole contraption tightly behind her head.
Being an Alpha Level slave may have afforded Kitara protection from any normal
male, but Marcus was her owner, and could therefore do with her as he pleased.
"You better have some good news," said the leader of the Retrieval Team. "The
processor block could only ascertain that she is moving in an easterly direction
and is somewhere between 20 and 30 miles away."
Tarrant grinned. "Don't worry, we have a very good idea who she's with." He held
up an item that women were forbidden to carry back in their own world - a
handbag. "And where that someone lives."
Marcus nodded at his fellow Retrievers, acknowledging their efforts. "In that
case, it's time for us to find some transport. Whatever happens, I want Rene
back within 24 hours."
*****
It felt extremely strange to be moving around without any rope, ties, cuffs or
chains impeding her progress. And it was a feeling that Rene knew she would
always treasure. To be able to stretch her muscles at any time without some form
of ligature restraining her; to be able to speak whenever she wished without
having to make herself understood around a mouthful of cloth or rubber. This was
what life was all about. Freedom. Not being a slave to any male who had a
fistful of credit. Not being tortured and raped on an almost daily basis. Not
having to spend every minute in a public place gagged tightly because The
Council decreed it was law. Not spending the vast majority of her life with her
hands and elbows tied together behind her - and the remainder of her time with
them cuffed before her.
Real freedom - at least as far as the females of her world were concerned - was
evidently a D-key away. But she, at least, had found it. And, come what may, she
was going to share it with as many of her fellow slaves as she could.
It was these words, and many more like it, that poured from Rene's mouth as she
explained all about her world to an increasingly shocked Shana . Rene had just
moved on to the topic of her pursuers by the time they arrived at their
destination - a small apartment situated on the edge of a college campus.
"I didn't think they were just going to let you go." Shana commented
"Not Marcus. Well, not any slave-owner for that matter. But especially not
Marcus." Rene sighed and sat back in her car seat.
"How many are going to be after you?"
"That depends. An official Retrieval Team will have four members. Three guards
and a coordinator. But Marcus will probably try and keep my escape 'in-house'.
That means he'll come after me himself with only a few essential helpers."
"Can we fight them?"
Rene shook her head. "They'll be carrying weapons - powerful weapons that can
turn you to less than ash. And that's if you're lucky. They won't have any
qualms kidnapping a beautiful girl like you and taking you back to our world."
Shana smiled slightly at the compliment, but her brow remained creased by a
frown. "So we have to run. At least this is a big world."
"We?" Rene asked.
"You don't think I'm going to leave you in this mess after you saved me, do
you?"
Rene felt a wave of relief wash over her. She was plainly aware of the fact that
on her own she would not have last more than a day in this strange world. But
with Shana's help, anything was possible.
Breathing a quiet "Thank you", Rene reached out a hand to grasp Shana's
shoulder. The younger woman placed her hand on top of Rene's lightly. The gaze
of each of the women met for a brief moment, and then Rene slowly pulled her
hand away. She looked around her surroundings quizzically. "So where are we, and
what are we doing here?"
"This is a friend of mine's apartment. Her name's Daphne and she works as an
assistant to a doctor working on - believe it or not - a gateway between
dimensions. I figured the two of you might have a lot to talk about."
Rene's eyes widened at the implications of what Shana had just told her - both
for herself and the future of this world. "If what you're saying is true, I
could help them perfect their research and then lose the Retrieval Team via a
different portal. But it could also mean trouble for your world. From what
Marcus told me, there are many dimensions out there worse than mine ... The
wrong portal to the wrong world, and the results could be disastrous."
"God, this is way too 'Sliders' for my taste," Shana remarked.
"What?"
"Don't worry. Current world reference."
Rene glanced out the window at the predominantly dark building up ahead. "So,
when can we meet up with this Daphne?"
Shana gestured at the street through the windshield. "That's her parking spot
there. Her car's not around though, so she must be out. We'll just have to sit
tight and wait until she gets back."
Rene nodded and the two women lapsed into silence. After a few moments, Shana
leant forward and turned on the car's radio. A slow song by a boring R&B band
was warbling to a close, and was soon replaced by a slightly faster, more guitar
orientated number. Suddenly, Rene sat bolt upright in her seat, eyes wide and
staring in horror at the radio.
"What? What is it?" asked Shana, looking around in alarm.
"It's ... it's a woman?!" Rene's brain could not grasp the concept of a woman
being allowed to sing - and even more incredibly, being permitted to record a
song that everyone could listen to! Nothing like that had ever happened on her
world. The gags women were forced to wear in every public situation saw to that.
Shana finally cottoned on to what had startled Rene so badly. "It's okay, it's
just Courtney Love." Shana laughed. "I didn't think her voice was that bad!"
Rene, too, began to laugh. This world really was amazing!
So amazing that Rene was forced to amend her earlier estimate on how long she
would have lasted alone within it.
An hour seemed like a much more realistic figure.
*****
With the exception of Harold Cromb's broken corpse, the entire house was empty.
And for a short amount of time - approximately twenty five minutes - it remained
that way.
Until a tell-tale blue sphere appeared out of thin air in the dimly lit cellar,
and quickly began to expand ...
*****
Heather groaned into her gag as Lois Davenport, her one time employer and now
self-proclaimed Mistress, ran a gloved hand along her quivering abdomen.
"Quite the strenuous position, isn't it, slave?"
Had she been able to speak, Heather would have wholeheartedly agreed. She was
bent backwards across a hard wooden stool - one that had been taken from Lois'
office bar - with her wrists and ankles each bound together and tied off to the
stool's horizontal foot supports. The edges of the flat seat pressed painfully
into her flesh beneath shoulder blades and upper rump, while the rest of her
back was arched in the air. Her head hung freely upside down, leaving her
feeling light headed and more than a little woozy, but with Lois' soiled
underwear stuffed into her mouth and held in place with a two and half inch
rubber ball gag that was buckled excruciatingly tight beneath her hair, she had
no way to voice her concerns.
While Heather was still completely naked, her captor had changed into something
she'd decreed was a little more appropriate for dealing with slaves. Lois now
wore a black leather corset, black gartered stockings that disappeared into
thigh-high leather booths and shoulder length kid leather gloves. Even from her
inverted position, Heather could see that her one-time superior wore the black
and leather ensemble extremely well and would not have been out of place in a
fetish club, mixing with men and women half her age.
"I've been waiting for this moment ever since I laid eyes on you, slave," said
Lois as she bent down to check the ropes binding Heather's ankles. "The whole
time you were impressing the rest of the board with your work here, I was
fantasizing about this type of situation. You see, up until recently, I was a
submissive to a very strong woman - a woman who would have had me tied in your
position on any normal day. So I know exactly what you're going through."
Lois stood as Heather managed to mumble a muffled reply of "Oooo Aarres."
"Who cares?" said Lois mockingly. "Well I thought you would have. After all, I
have the power to do anything that I want to you. So maybe you'd like to know as
much about me as possible."
The leather clad woman walked around the stool to crouch down in front of
Heather's face. "You brought out the dominant side in me, slave. And it's a side
that I'm going to have a great deal of pleasure exploring. Sorry that I can't
promise the same thing for you." Lois reached behind Heather's head and deftly
tightened the ball gag another notch. Heather winced as the ball was pulled even
further into her mouth, and Lois' underwear was forced further down her throat.
"Don't worry, you'll get used to it. In another hour or so, we'll leave the
office and I'll be take you down to my own private dungeon. Usually I'm the one
being abused within it, but tonight - and for the rest of your days - you have
that honour, slave."
Heather missed the significance of Lois' first sentence, as the second slammed
home with the force of a sledge hammer. Prisoner of this mad-woman forever?? NO!
She'd had enough of being a captive; enough of the bondage; enough of being
gagged. And then there was the distinct possibility that some kind of torture
was imminent. Which was to say nothing of the fact that she was going to be kept
from her work. Damnit! She was so close to cracking the secrets of the Gateway
Portal - so close to realizing her dream!
Heather mewed into her gag as she began squirming against her bonds, desperate
to wrestle her way free and get out of this nightmare. But the ropes held firm
as Lois watched with a broadening smile. "Yes, that's it! Struggle all you
want!" The leather-clad woman licked her lips and in between ragged breaths
added quietly, "No wonder Veronica liked me to fight - it is exhilarating to
watch."
*****
Thirty-seven floors below, a lone female watched the bizarre tableau unfolding
on one of the two security cameras peering unobtrusively into Lois' office. The
woman, also dressed from head to toe in black leather and holding three video
tapes beneath her arm, watched in silence as Lois walked over to the bar and
grabbed a riding crop from behind it. Her eyes narrowed, however, as Lois strode
back over to the helplessly bound woman and ran the crop teasingly over her
glistening skin.
"I think now would be a good time for your first cropping," said the image of
Lois on the screen.
The image of the bound and gagged woman continued to struggle as she "mmmpphhed"
in response to her tormentor's comment.
"I'll take that as a yes," laughed Lois, and brought the crop down across
Heather's stomach.
"Bitch," whispered the watcher vehemently. With a flick of her finger, she
turned the cameras off, instantly darkening the screens.
"Jealous, Veronica?" inquired a mocking male voice.
Christian stepped over the threshold and into the security room, a wide smile on
his face.
Veronica Sloane, Lois Daveport's most trusted adviser and unofficial
"right-hand" woman, turned slowly to face Davidson Global's Head of Security and
her oldest rival.
"Did you bring her to Lois?" Veronica asked, making no attempt to hide her
anger.
Christian's mocking smile remained firmly in place "Perhaps. What if I did?"
"Then you're stupider than I thought. She'll change things around here - and I'm
not talking about her research."
"Seems to me that she'll only be changing things for you." Christian leant
forward. "I wonder, what will you do when you don't have Lois by a leash?"
Veronica gritted her teeth and let the insult pass. She held up the tapes. "I'm
supposed to take these up to her."
"No you're not. Lois asked me to get them from you." He held out his hand. "I
guess she's not in the mood for your particular brand of company."
Very calmly, with her gaze never leaving his, Veronica placed the tapes on the
desk beside her. Then, with a supreme effort of will, she strode past Christian
and out of the security room, allowing her last words to drift back to him as he
gathered up the tapes.
"I promise you, this isn't the end of it."
*****
