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Harry had a good laugh about my encounter with Kelly. I’d been a bit suspicious that it was a put up job but he assured me it wasn’t. She was just one of the possibles that they’d had on a target list a while back. When they decided she didn’t fit the customer profile they left her office on the list for possible training exercises. He seemed convincing enough about it. I didn’t mind either way, it had been fun.
I bumped into Freddie outside of his office. “Well,” he said, “at least the numbers seem to be picking up.”
I had to agree with him. “Yes,” I said, “the Search and Snatch service has been getting a lot of response and some of that is already feeding through into billings, the on-line auctions have been good for moving some of the stock too.”
“You’re right,” said Freddie, “I can’t remember when we’ve had so little prepped stock sitting around. That’s helped keep the costs down in stock holding too. Mind you some of the staff up there are getting a bit restless; not enough girls for them to play with.”
“We need to find a way to fix that,” I said, “the last thing we want to do is to hack the guards off, they do a great job.”
“Well give it some thought, can you. They’ve got a bit of diversion with Brian’s family but they’ll be sold soon enough and I don’t want to stack up any problems for the future.” He stopped and thought for a moment. “Oh, and another thing… how do you think our market share is now?”
I stopped dead in my tracks. With all the other activities, I’d forgotten one of the basics. I hadn’t really thought about what share of the market we were getting and how we were shaping up against the competition. With Freddie, though, I knew there wasn’t any value in trying to bluff my way out of things. “Freddie, I haven’t the faintest idea. I’d not really thought much about it with all the other stuff we’ve been doing on analysing the client needs and setting up the new products and the account management. You’re absolutely right though. We might be growing but if competitors are growing faster we could be going backwards.”
Freddie grinned. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I
thought that might be the case. You’ve been focussing on urgent stuff plus the
whole Brian thing was a bit of a distraction. I even have friends that are
saying if you carry on like you are the
I nodded.
”I don’t think you’ll find it easy. It’s not like anyone publishes the auction prices and volumes! Anyway see what you can do. I was just going down to see how Rick is getting on with Brian’s family. Do you want a look?”
The real answer was “no, not really,” but I thought that probably wasn’t wise. Freddie still harboured a grudge over the whole Brian business and he’d been getting Rick to make things pretty tough on the women. Plus, of course, he’d been making sure that Brian got to know what was happening to them on his account. Freddie strode off towards the preparation and orientation areas. I tagged along behind him. Rick was there to greet Freddie when he got to the cells.
“You’re looking to see how Alice and her family are getting on?” Rick said.
“Mmm,” said Freddie. “I’d just like to satisfy myself that the regime we are holding them under is sufficiently, let’s say, rigorous.”
“Rigorous,” said Rick, “is the watch word. Come and see.” He opened the door to one of the cells. I followed Rick and Freddie inside.
The four women barely reacted to our arrival in the cell. Clegg had insisted that they should be all kept together so that they should each witness the humiliation and subjugation of the others. That included Brian who was standing chained to the far wall, naked, with his wrists shackled over his head. He was looking in a pretty sorry state. Rick explained that some of the girls had volunteered to, as they said, soften him up. Tricia had quite a few friends in Prep and they had all welcomed the opportunity to take their revenge on her kidnapper. There was a shelf on the wall beside Brian, Ranged along it was an impressive array of butt plugs, nipple clamps, gags, paddles, whips and other items of dubious but almost certainly unpleasant purpose. From the blood that encrusted the wheals on his legs, it looked like quite a lot of the shelf’s devices had already been employed on him. He tried to turn his head towards Clegg. I could see that he’d been fitted with a dental gag. He managed a sound from his throat at once angry and despairing. It wasn’t helped by the collar he’d been fitted with. The stores had only had them in women’s sizes; the biggest they could find still looked like it was choking him. Clegg ignored him and turned his attention to the women.
“I see they’ve been shaved,” said Clegg, looking down at the four bald and women. “That’s good. Keep them like this, don’t let the stubble grow back,” he said bending down beside Beth and running his hand across her shaved pubis. “This one’s smooth enough, good.” He put his hand beneath her chin to lift her head so he could look at her face. Her eyes were red with tears. “Oh, yes. Take their eyebrows off as well and their eyelashes. I want all their hair off and kept off.” He turned his attentions towards Ella, pushing her down so she was laying face down on the floor of the cell. He kicked her legs apart and then crouched peering closely at her backside. The bruising around her arse showed she was being used from behind as much as in front. “How often is the 18 year old one being fucked?”
Rick picked up the clipboard used to record punishments and rapes of the cell’s occupants from the hook beside the door. “This one?” he said, pointing at Beth. “Three times so far today, seven yesterday. The 19 year old was eight times yesterday, twice so far today. The girls are more popular than their mother or their aunt. They were done three times each yesterday. ”
“Hmm,” said Clegg. He got up and gripped
“Well, Challis might be interested in him,” I nodded towards Brian. “She’s asked for some photos and an estimate on initial training costs. It looks like we’ve got some Kushtian interest in the two girls but nothing on the mother or her sister yet. I think the sales team are a bit disoriented by all this. They thought a lot of Brian. I’m not sure they are putting all their efforts in.”
“Well, see what you can do,” said Clegg. “And tell the sales lot, they’ve got a new incentive plan. If they can’t find customers for these they’ll be joining them on the web site.” He stalked out.
I went back to my office to work on the
market research challenge. I tried to map out a strategy for the problem. I
reckoned there were two main things we needed to know. How and what our
competitors were doing and what the total volume of sales, in the
Freddie asked Ellie to give me a contact
that might be able to let me have a picture of the total number of abductions
in the
I didn’t ask Freddie why she was so willing to help.
I cut the police numbers down by a figure that looked like the disappearance rate for other groups, that took care of the “genuine” missing persons, I thought, and left the probable number of slave abductions. Of course I still didn’t know how many of those on the police list were as a result of operations like ours, some of them had to be amateur collectors, picking up by individuals for their own use. They weren’t really competitors individually but, of course, if they were snatching their own they weren’t buying from us. It occurred to me that it might be useful for our overall market share if the police were being more successful against the amateurs, I’d have to think about that.
Seb came up with some useful data. He’d come up with three web sites
run by
That linked up with Freddie’s assessment that there were five main competitors to us, Seb reckoned that there were two others under development but not yet operational. We had a look around. One surprise was to see two faces that I recognised. Staring out at me from the screen were Rebecca, my some-time girlfriend whose kidnapping had started my involvement with Clegg’s business, and Amanda, her flatmate. Just out of curiosity I clicked on the “more details” button under Rebecca’s photograph. “Offered for sale by private treaty,” it said. “Following the decision of her owners to replace many of their current slave stock, this well trained piece is available for immediate shipment to a delivery point of your choosing. An experienced flight attendant, she has been serving until recently on her current owner’s aircraft and would be an ideal purchase for any owner seeking to improve service on board their own flights or with minimal cross training on board an owner’s yacht.”
I wondered for a while where she would end up.
Seb interrupted my thoughts, “Do you want to look at the numbers?” he said.
He’d got figures for each of them. Together they made up about 20% of the total number of girls lifted by my reckoning. Given that there wasn’t much different about any of their web sites I guessed that the share of overall sales would be pretty much the same as their share of web based sales. It wasn’t accurate but at least it gave us a working hypothesis.
As well as the numbers I felt I needed the background data. At least I had Rachel’s report following her interviews with Sukie. I pulled the wad of pages from the file. It looked like she had done a thorough enough job. Producing that had stopped anyone asking about what else she had planned, I guessed. She’d organised it much as I had expected with separate pages on each of the “keepers” that Sukie had been loaned out to, 15 keepers detailed on one or two pages each and an overall summary page. I started to read wondering if it was actually going to help. It was interesting but anecdotal. I wasn’t sure how I was going to draw any conclusions from it.
There were some possibilities, though. The interesting thing was the way in which so many ideas recurred. The sex of course and the violence and the beatings and the institutionalised humiliation; as if it wasn’t sufficient for the slave to be restrained at the bid of her keeper. It was almost as though the keepers defined themselves in terms of their domain over the slaves that they kept. The slaves weren’t simply utilitarian items, they brought status to their owners in the same way that an expensive car or yacht might. Thinking about it, it shouldn’t have been too much of a surprise.
What was puzzling was that none of the descriptions that Rachel had provided seemed to reflect the woman that I had encountered on the island; her warmth, intelligence and instinct for companionship. Whether that was a result of her perspective, or Rachel’s interpretation or the influence of Sukie’s owner, I couldn’t say but I did end up feeling that there I wasn’t getting the whole picture
Tricia was out of town on a job and I was at a loose end anyway, so I thought I’d spend an evening with Sukie.
I found her in a cell in the Prep Centre. It didn’t look like anyone had taken much care of her. She was naked and wearing some heavy shackles around her ankles. Her black, straight, hair was hanging lankly, she didn’t look is if she had washed for days, she smelled that way too. A steel yoke kept her wrists at shoulder level and the steel band around her throat was closed with a padlock that also fastened her to a chain to the cell wall. She was gagged as well. She turned towards me without any show of resentment and knelt up presenting herself to me. “Hello, Sukie,” I said.
She nodded in response. I unfastened her gag, prising the ball from her mouth. “Thank you,” she said.
“Why are you being kept like this?” I asked. The yoke and shackles seemed much more severe than was usual and girls were rarely kept gagged after they arrived unless there was some disciplinary reason.
“The guards tell me it’s because I have not been “prepared”; not been “orientated”. Because you wanted my stories they have just kept me secure, not done anything more. They worry that I will try to escape, I suppose.”
“Aren’t they right to?”
“Perhaps,” she said enigmatically. “But perhaps I have known this way for too long to want to be really free now.”
“I want to talk to you,” I said.
“I thought that’s what you were doing,” she answered.
“Not here. Somewhere more comfortable.” She looked resigned. “It’s not like that,” I said. I called a guard and had him remove the yoke. She still had her standard collar, I thought that would be enough. She seemed to take that as a token of sincerity. “Come on, Sukie,” I said. “Through here.”
We went though to one of the semi-secure suites that clients could use to evaluate stock. The doors can be locked remotely and they have CCTV monitoring, but apart from that they are pretty much like hotel rooms. Sukie looked covetously at the bathroom. “Go on,” I said. “use it if you want.”
“A shower?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said. “Take your time.” She gave a smile of gratitude and disappeared into the bathroom.
She emerged about twenty minutes later, her dark hair wrapped in a white towel turban. I tossed her a white towelling bathrobe, she grabbed it and pulled it on, instinctively wrapping the robe about her. Suddenly she stopped and looked directly at me. “Oh,” she said, “I’m so sorry, I forgot for a moment, please forgive me.” She loosened the belt of the robe and let it fall open, exposing her tits and her cleanly shaved sex. “Of course, I shouldn’t cover myself without permission.”
“It’s all right, Sukie,” I said. “Fasten the robe. Come and sit here.”
She did so, gratefully.
“Your discussions with Sarah,” I said.
“She is very troubled,” Sukie replied. “She finds it hard to accept her place. I have not seen her for a while but I like it when we talk. She wrote down many things. About how I was treated. About the men and the women.”
“But not how you felt?”
Sukie looked towards me and smiled. “No,” she said. “Not how I felt. She did not ask. I did not tell her. I think she still found it difficult to feel. From her taking. From her treatment. She is frightened to feel and she cannot ask how others feel. I don’t think she is as much of a slave as you might believe.”
I looked silently at Sukie, impressed by her perceptiveness. “Tell me how you felt.”
“Felt?”
“When you were taken. When you were raped. When you were given to others. When you found yourself here.”
“I don’t know,” she said, pulling off her towel turban and running her hands through her hair. “When I was taken? Shock, I suppose. Shock that it could happen. Hope that I would be rescued. Fear that I might be killed. And then the fear that I would live. That was the shock, I think. How much you can take and still live. How much pain. How much horror. How much fear. And you go on living. Then the denial; that it can’t be happening; that there’s been a terrible mistake; that these people don’t really know who you are.”
“But nothing changes?”
“No, nothing,” she relaxed a little and let her robe fall loose. “Then you get angry. Angry with them; angry with whoever they are doing it for; angry with the people where I’d been that they’d done nothing to stop this. I smashed the chair in my cell. Smashed it against the bed. It didn’t help.”
“Did you find anything that did?”
She shook her head slowly. “You try to negotiate. I’ll suck you off if you let me have more food. I’ll give you a hand job if you find me some clothes. I’ll let you fuck me if you’ll just let me remember what it was like to be me.”
I looked on sympathetically.
“It makes you sad. I sat for days without moving. They came and did whatever they wanted. I did nothing to stop them. There was no point in resisting, it didn’t matter.” She shrugged her shoulders. “And then you know it won’t work. That you can’t change it. That the bargains don’t work. That you’ll never be free. And with every change you repeat the cycle. You’re raped – it didn’t happen, he was a bastard, I could stop it happening again if only I did this or that, it was all my fault, it was just my fate. You’re given to another; the same thing all over again. When I found myself here; the same.”
I wasn’t sure how this was helping. I offered her a drink. She seemed surprised. I gave her some wine. She smiled and drank it gratefully. She looked at me suspiciously.
“Are you going to rape me now?” she said.
“No,” I said. “We’ve finished for now. I’ll try to get things made more comfortable for you.”
She looked grateful. “Will I need to talk to Rachel some more? She seemed very troubled.”
“I don’t know. Not for a while,” I said. I was thinking it was pretty unlikely that Rachel would be doing any more writing given what I heard about the chemical cosh that Rick was using to suppress her ability to distract herself. He’d kicked off some thinking about alternative approaches to orientation but they wouldn’t be on stream in time. The guard came to take Sukie back to her cell. I told him to put her on a light regime. He grunted. I knew I’d have to check that things were all right later.
Another guard appeared with Rachel moments later. She must have passed Sukie in the corridor. I wondered what Sukie would have made of the sight.
The guard gave me her leash and handed me the key to her gag. I asked about her wrist and ankle cuffs. He wasn’t carrying the keys to those he said, standing orders said that her keys had to be held by three separate guards. I wondered if they weren’t over reacting but I guessed nobody wanted to find themselves on their back with her panties in their mouth like Seb had; much less the conversation with Freddie that would follow. They’d stopped raping her. The last thing they wanted was to give her any more sources of distraction.
I led her to the couch and told her to sit. She did so without apparent reaction. She was naked but wore a metal head cage that kept her mouth closed. They’d shaved her head, the black stubble of her hair growing back showed as a dark shadow between the bands of the head cage. I unlocked the chin piece to allow her to speak. She turned to look at me.
“Hello Rachel,” I said.
She seemed only to half recognise me. Her eyes looked as though she was having trouble focussing. I put that down to the drugs. She didn’t say anything.
“Are they letting you write?” I asked.
She looked at me again. It was obvious she was having trouble finding the words. “Write?” she said. “Oh, words, on paper.” She paused. “Write?” Another pause. “No, not yet. Cannot write yet. Must learn to please first. Must learn to obey first. Then can be more free. If I obey I can be more free. Have to obey to be free.”
I didn’t bother trying to debate the intellectual inconsistency. There was a knock at the door. It was Rick. I waved him in. Rachel got to her feet automatically, bowing her head as she did so. He told her to sit.
“What do you think?” he said.
“I think she’s unlikely to be any further use for my projects,” I said regretfully, “at least any time soon. She sounds like she’s pretty well conditioned. Only problem is she’s probably too far out of it to be any use to me.”
“Yeah, the EEG’s seem to show she’s not faking.”
“It sounds like her brain’s been fried.”
Rick gave a grimace. “Well it’s not the phrase we’d use. ‘Higher function disruption’ is what we’d say.” Rachel was sitting motionless and silent. “It’s not permanent. Well not all of it is permanent. Well, we think that most of it isn’t permanent.”
I shook my head. “It’s not going to work at all. I can’t make use of what’s here, least ways not for writing.” Rick gave a smirk. “Couldn’t we have found a less destructive approach?”
Rick looked discouraged. “We did what we could, Larry,” he said. “Maybe we need some new techniques. I’ll think about if for the future. We are where we are with this one though.”
I looked at where Rachel was sitting passively, not reacting to anything we said. “She’s got quite a nice body,” I said. “I’m sure we can find a buyer once she’s safe. I can’t see any reason to keep her around, can you?”
Rick shook his head. “Fair enough,” he said. “I thought that was what you’d think. I’ll get some of the sales team to trawl through their contacts and see if there’s a taker for a dark haired girl with small tits and slim hips.”
“That’s about all I could think of too.” It was a shame but I guess it didn’t really matter. I locked her mouth strap back in place and watched as Rick and the guard took her away. She didn’t resist. I went back to my office and fired up the lap top. I had a market study to write up.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………
MEMORANDUM
To: F. Clegg Dept.:
From: L. Ross Dept.: Marketing
CC: Date: 27/05/06
Subject: Market Share, Market Development & Account Management
Freddie,
You asked for a summary of our market share position and I also wanted to update you on my thoughts following a review of the material collected from acquisition number 06/349 (“Sukie”) by our writer. I think it has a number of implications for the development of our account management programme and the way in which we develop future markets.
The market share data collected (see attached) indicates that we have achieved a market share of 24% which confirms us as one of the top three concerns in the market. Since the data indicates that all three organisations have a market share of around 25% and this method can’t give a result better than +/- 5% I can’t identify one specifically as market leader. It could even be us! Obviously we need to continue to track this and determine whether our increased volumes are coming at the expense of our competitors (greater market share) or as a result of expansion in the market (either as a result of our own efforts or of external factors). My current view is that the increase results from market growth stimulate by the social and economic factors we discussed before. Future analysis of competitor initiatives should provide further evidence of this.
I have summarised my conclusions and recommendations below. A more detailed analysis follows. If you want to see the original report prepared by #06/285 (“Rachel”), I can let you have a copy.
Summary
& Recommendations
The overall conclusions drawn from my analysis of the #06/349 data are:
(1) There is a significant
growth in the numbers of women keeping slaves of all kinds and especially women
slaves (F-on-F). Some of this can be attributed to the growth in disposable
income amongst US females and to socio-cultural changes in that market. We can
expect an increasing number of F-on-F opportunities to present themselves
generally and specifically
in the
(2) The
· Ponies : given Glennis’s enthusiasm for this it is not surprising to find that #06/349 records this. It represents a small but distinct market.
· Décor: this is the second most popular use for slaves. #06/349 records instances of slave usage as lamp holders, furniture (especially tables and footstools), and as fixed display pieces.
· Toys & Pets: #06/349 recounts eight instances of product acquired for a maze where they were kept under observation for the amusement of the owners and a further six instances of pet keeping where the product is used as a house-pet.
(3) US and other nationality owners are increasingly inter-acting and as a result territorial differences between markets can be expected to reduce.
I propose the following in response to this:-
(A) We should focus an account management activity to develop the F-on-F sector.
(B) Our preparation / orientation activities need to review the opportunities presented by the emerging new roles for slaves. This could include development of new orientation programmes for toys and pets and the development of approaches that will make it easier to deeply product for décor purposes.
(C) Account management activities should be organised to focus on networks of owners rather than along geographical lines.
Regards
Larry
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………
I finished the memo and sent it off. I wasn’t completely happy with it but it was a start.
Sometimes market research is as important for what it doesn’t tell you as what it does. I felt we needed to think outside the box, or rather outside the packing case containing a tightly bound and tape gagged girl, when it came to product and market.
My encounter with Kelly had made me think that we needed to look at things through different eyes. I felt I needed to see her again.
I suppose I was cheating on Tricia but she was still off on some collection way up country and wasn’t going to be back all week. I was bored and besides I was very interested in trying to think about the market from a different perspective. Least ways, that’s what I told myself.
I was sitting in the coffee bar across the road from the office that I’d burglarised the week before. I don’t really know what I was planning to do. Just see what happened, if anything, I guess. I watched as Kelly walked along the street on the other side of the road. She didn’t look any the worse for our encounter but then apart from the embarrassment of being found with her clothes dishevelled, I didn’t think she’d had to put up with all that much.
She stopped on the steps of the building and looked at her watch. Deciding that she had some time to spare, she skipped across the road towards me. She came into the coffee bar and went up to the counter. “Slim latte,” she said, chirpily to the guy behind the counter. “Thanks.”
I drew in my breath and decided to trust my judgement. “Hi, Kelly,” I called. “Want to join me?”
She looked puzzled but came across to my table anyway. “Have we met?” she said.
“Sure,” I said. “I came by your office last week.”
She stared at me hard, right in the eyes. She put her coffee down and put her hands to her mouth. “Oh. My God,” she said.
“It’s going to be a bit difficult talking if you put a full stop after every word.”
“It’s Mr Burglar, isn’t it?” she hissed quietly.
It was my turn to look puzzled. “I’m sorry?” I dissembled.
“OK,” she said, composing herself. “Silly of me. Nice to see you again. I really enjoyed our last date, though I was upset when you ran out on me when you did. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. Or at all really.” She smiled, stirring her coffee without really paying attention to it.
“I thought we might go somewhere.”
She put her head on one side, thinking. “I’m supposed to be at work.” She paused. “But I’m not really feeling up to it. I had a disturbing experience there last week. I’m having a flashback, right now.”
“You look fine.”
“Yeah, I know but I was thinking I’d call in sick. Tell the boss I was planning to spend the day in bed.” She looked at me over her coffee, dark eyes staring out through a fringe of dark hair.
“I could make sure you got home safely. If you liked.”
She looked me up and down. “Yeah,” she said, taking a deep breath and following it with a big slug of coffee. “That would be good. You won’t mind if we take my car though?”
“Fine by me,” I said. “I came by bus. I hoped I might get picked up.”
She gave me a long hard look, picked up her coffee and said, “Let’s go.”
I followed her out of the coffee shop and down the road towards a multi-story car park. We got into her VW Golf, she dropped some coins in the exit gate and we were on our way.
As we drove she clipped her Bluetooth earpiece on and punched a number on her mobile. “Mr Lewis? It’s Kelly. I was on my way in but I don’t feel like I can work today. I’m going back home. ….. Well thanks for being so understanding. ….. Sorry to let you down.” She turned the mobile off and tossed the earpiece into the cubby hole between the seats.
“Why did you come back?”
“I enjoyed our last meeting,” I said. “And I was puzzled.”
“Puzzled?”
“By your reaction. That’s not the effect I usually have on girls.”
“Like I said, I like forceful men.”
“Don’t you think this is a little dangerous?”
“Yes,” she grinned.
We stopped outside a small semi detached house in a tree lined street. “Do you know,” she said turning to me. “What would really scare me?”
“Mice?” I suggested.
She shook her head. “If I was to be attacked in my own home. Much worse than being burgled in the office.” She smiled as she opened the door. “Come on in,” she said.
We got through the door, she shut it behind us and instantly we fell on each other. I pushed her back against the closed door, my mouth on hers, my hands running over her body and hers over mine. I kissed her, she kissed back. We paused for breath. “Not like that,” she said, thickly, “like this.” She turned her back on me, grabbed my hand and pulled it up to her mouth. I got the idea and pulled her hard back against me, crushing her mouth with my hand.
“Shuttup bitch, if you don’t want to get hurt,” I snarled. She pushed back, trying to pull her head away from my hand. She was struggling like she meant it but not so I couldn’t keep hold of her. I grabbed her arms and swung her against the wall. She was winded and slid to the floor. I ripped the strap off of her handbag, rolled her over on her face and used it to tie her wrists.
“What, what do you want?” she gasped.
“Money,” I said. “And maybe some fun.”
“There’s no money here.”
“Than it’ll have to be the fun.” I pulled her to her feet, dragging her up by an arm. She yelped as the belt took her weight and cut into her wrists. “What’s through there?” I nodded to a door off the hall.
“Living room,” she coughed; getting her breath back. I nodded to another door. “Kitchen,” she said.
“That’ll do,” I said pulling her down the hall and through the door. I pushed her down on the floor beside the cooker. There was a knife block on the worktop beside it. I picked out one with a 6 inch blade and held it to her throat. “You’re going to be good.” It was an instruction, not a question.
She gave a quiet, “yes,” staring at the blade. She looked convinced. I found a tea towel on a rail by the sink and used it to gag her, ripped the power cord from her food blender and tied her ankles. “Stay there,” I told her and left to explore the house.
I started in the living room. Nothing too interesting there. A collection of R ’n B CD’s scattered on the coffee table meant at least we’d have some music to get down to later on. I looked back in on Kelly in the kitchen as I went back down the hall. She gave me a “Hnngh” from behind her gag and wriggled her shoulders, experimentally trying to loosen the bag strap around her wrists. It looked like I’d made it a bit easy for her so I went across and looped her ankle cord back to her wrists. I tipped her onto her face. She grunted and gave another wriggle.
I thought I’d check upstairs. After all, she’d said she wanted to spend the day in bed. Her bedroom was quite girly. No surprise there, I suppose; soft toys on the window sill, patterned eiderdown on the bed. I pulled out the top drawer of her dressing table and tipped it out on the floor. Underwear; pants, bras, thongs, tights, stockings. I chose one of her dark tan stockings and pulled it over my head. That would do for a mask, I thought. Time for some more play.
I got back to the kitchen. She’d put in some effort and managed to wriggle herself most of the way across the floor towards the door. “Good try, darling,” I said as I got to the door.
She looked up, saw the mask and gave an appreciative grunt.
“Like I said. It’ll have to be the
fun.” I ran the tip of the knife blade down her thigh. She squealed in what
sounded like genuine fright. The blade snagged on her tights; a run disappeared
up beneath the hem of her skirt. I took the knife, cut through the cable around
her ankles and pulled her to her feet. “Upstairs, cunt,”
I said, grabbing her arm and pushing her forward. She staggered up the stairs,
half falling as she reached the top. I pulled her into the bedroom and pushed
her down on her back on the bed. I lay down beside her, the knife close to her
throat.
I eased the gag out of her mouth, the knotted dish cloth hung around her neck. She worked her jaw a bit, panting slightly. “You are good at this, aren’t you?” she said.
I used the knife to slice the buttons from her blouse. She tried to shrink back into the bed but the way her nipples had stiffened underneath her bra betrayed her true feelings. “And you like this a lot too, don’t you?” I responded.
She whimpered as I ran the knife blade down her cheek. “Mmm,” she muttered quietly.
I thought it was all getting a bit too cosy. I reached out and grabbed a pair of panties from the pile of underwear on the bedroom floor and crammed them into her mouth. She bucked and struggled as I knotted the tea towel gag back in place. I guess she felt she still had some more to say. I found a couple of pairs of tights in the pile. I pulled her by the legs towards the end of the bed. She squealed behind the gag as she fell backwards. Pushing the pants into her mouth had improved its muffling effects. I grabbed each of her ankles in turn and tied them to the legs of the bed so that her legs were well spread out. She was trying to thrash about without much success. I pushed her square in the chest so she fell back on the bed again. I climbed up alongside her and put one arm across her throat. “I’d keep still if I were you. I think you’re over dressed.”
I slipped the knife under each of her bra straps, slicing through each in turn. Another cut between her breasts let me pull her bra from her. I pulled her tights down a cut through her panties on either side. If her nipples had shown that she was starting to get excited, her soaked panties confirmed that her excitement was rising. She moaned as she felt my hand on her snatch.
I sat up. She gave me a quizzical look and a puzzled and disappointed grunt. She tried to wriggle her hips indicating that she wasn’t happy that I had stopped. “Uh-uh,” I said wagging my head. “The burglar’s got work to do. I haven’t even started looking for jewellery or cash yet.”
Kelly whimpered in response, plainly unhappy at being left, but I felt I ought to play the part. I turned out the contents of her dressing table, tipped out her handbag, went through a couple of jewel boxes that stood on the window sill behind her bed, pulled some clothes out of her wardrobe, upended some drawers on the floor. I made a bit of a mess but I guess she wouldn’t mind clearing up afterwards. There wasn’t much there. If I‘d been a real burglar, I’d have been disappointed with everything but the girl. It was then that I stubbed my toe.
It was a suitcase under the bed. I went to pull it out. Kelly got distinctly agitated, bouncing around on the bed without having any effect on her bonds. “What’s this?” I said, earning a look of disapproval from Kelly on the bed. She shook her head and squealed.
I sat down on the bed and put the case down beside me. I opened it. I guess I wasn’t surprised by what it contained. Kelly was still looking furious but now she was blushing as well, curious given that she’d let me tie her to the bed and cut her clothes from her I thought.
It was her BDSM toy box. There were a couple of bondage magazines, a couple of fetish scene magazines, and a collection of straps, gags, dildos, vibrators and other stuff.
I reached across and loosened off her gag. She pushed the panties from her mouth with her tongue. “You are a bastard,” she said. “You weren’t supposed to find that.”
“Shame,” I said. “You can’t rely on anyone. Do you want to tell me about this stuff?”
She shook her head. “I was happier with what we were doing before.”
“You’re in no position to negotiate.” I ran one of the vibrators along the inside of her thigh. I thumbed the switch as it reached her crotch. She gave a squeal and tried to snap her knees together. It jerked her ankles painfully against the stockings that tied her. She yelped.
“Bastard,” she panted, arching her back to push herself against the vibrator. I picked up one of the fetish mags and started to thumb through it, ignoring her reaction to the vibrator pressed against her crotch. “What’s to tell? You know what I’m in to.” I switched the vibrator off. She grunted and tried to push her hips forward. “I go to the occasional club event. It’s the only way I can get the buzz. My boy friend wasn’t keen. I think it scared him off. There’s a few of us at the munch that have had the same problem.” I flicked the vibrator back on. “Ahhh!”
“Munch?” I said.
“It’s a sort of casual meet-up at the local pub for folk interested in this stuff,” she said. “I’ve got a few girlfriends I see there. They’re pretty much like me. Wish they could get to do more of this; can’t find the blokes that will give them what they want. There’s plenty of opportunities for female tops. Subs like me find it harder.”
“Let me make it easier.” I jammed the vibrator into her cunt and turned it on. It cut the conversation short as she moaned in reaction to it. I left it in her while I rummaged through the box. I pulled out a ball gag. It was bigger than the ones we used in the Prep Centre. She took it without trouble. The vibrator was bringing her close to a climax. She was drooling around the edge of the gag as she shook her head from side to side and twisted her hips back and forth.
It made for a fun day’s play. At the end of it I was wondering if perhaps we really needed to go on abducting girls to get the slaves we wanted. I left Kelly to worry about clearing up.
Business was certainly getting back to normal. When I next saw Freddie he had quite a chirpy air about him. I was still worrying about Rachel, I couldn’t help admiring the way in which she had held on, even if it now looked as though she been irreparably damaged by it. The one encouraging thing was that Rick reckoned she was showing signs that her catatonic state was easing. He hadn’t found any potential buyers yet. I suggested that he held off for a bit until we had a better picture of her prognosis. It didn’t sound like smart business to me to be selling stock on unless you were certain what you were delivering.
Clegg had asked me to join a meeting. I got there before he did. Sarah was there looking as efficient as ever, sitting beside Clegg’s desk, demurely dressed in a white blouse and a long black skirt that reached almost to the floor. I’d have asked her what the meeting was about but her mouth was filled with one of the Prep Centre’s standard issue ball gags.
There in the middle of Clegg’s desk was an architectural model. It looked like quite an old house – a late Elizabethan manor house butted onto the keep of an earlier castle was my guess. The house was surrounded by a moat and outside of that by a circular bank. I was peering closely at it when Freddie came in with Harry and a visitor, a young man wearing a loud check sports jacket.
“Ahha,” said the
visitor, in an ear splitting
“This is Ross,” said Clegg introducing me. “Larry Ross.”
“Sure, sure,” the visitor said. “I’ve heard about you. Big help around here.”
I tried to smile modestly but it was difficult to hide the pleasure of being recognised for the work I was doing.
“This,” said Clegg, pointing at the newcomer, “is the Emir of Kolin” Clegg saw my look of surprise. He certainly didn’t sound like any of the Kushtians that I had met so far. “He has recently inherited the title. He’s been living in the States for the last fourty years,”
“Like forever,” the Emir cut in with a grin.
Clegg smiled tolerantly and continued “And
he’s coming to the
“Ah, she works too, does she?” The Emir smiled. “Thought she was just the office eye candy.” Sarah looked as though she was embarrassed by his remarks – she still hadn’t really got used to being viewed as a sex object – but she liked being noticed too.
The ‘other division’ turned out to be the company that Clegg used for construction projects. Most of that was legitimate work but they also had a side-line constructing dungeons and other secure accommodation for slave keepers. They had lots of experience with concrete set metal bars, heavy doors, underground construction, that sort of thing. Clegg’s team had been extending and converting the Emir’s new home in the Worcestershire countryside. He’d bought it cheaply after a plan to convert the building into a hotel had collapsed. The developers had got as far as installing the pool, the gym and the spa and creating 20 bedrooms in what was the old castle keep. They’d built the golf course. Then the money had run out.
“Work is going fine,” the Emir said. “All on schedule and to what I understand to be Mr Clegg’s usual standards of quality. What’s needed now is the final preparations for the soft furnishings.”
The Emir could see I looked puzzled. “Ah, please excuse my euphemism,” he said, “by soft furnishings I mean my wives and concubines. Let me explain.” He went to pick up his briefcase from the desk. As he did so he got the view that I had been enjoying for some time. Although from The Emir’s side, Sarah’s skirt looked had extremely modest, draping across her lap and falling to the middle of her calves, from my side you could see that it was slit to the hip, showing her legs off beautifully. “Oh, very nice,” said the Emir. “Hey Larry, you’ve been holding out on me, enjoying that.” He nodded to Freddie. “Do you mind,” he said waving a thumb at Sarah. She looked worried.
“Not at all,” said Freddie, “help yourself.”
“Great,” said the Emir pulling papers from the case. As he started to consult the documents his free hand dived inside Sarah’s blouse, squeezing and pinching at her tits. “She gave a muffled squeak of pain. The Emir ignored her reactions. “Now youse guys, here’s the game. I’ve got five wives and three girls that are, let’s say, going to be ‘living in’ for my amusement. They are prime Kushtian womanhood. Man of my status only gets to wed the best.” Sarah gave another squeak in response to the Emir’s attentions. “And I like to take care of my wives. Freddie here has done a good job on the hotel facilities. I’m going to need some staff to keep the ladies comfortable.”
Harry looked interested. Clegg looked smug. He could tell this was going to involve a multiple collection of some sort or a way of shifting some stock. “But you won’t be looking for additional wives or bed mates?” I said, looking as always to the higher margin opportunities.
“Well, I am going to need some local girls for entertaining my customers. And I don’t mean playing checkers if you get my drift. So no wives but we’ll need some girls that can bounce to order.”
“OK,” I said, “so what are you looking for in the staff line?”
“I’ve got a list here,“ he said, “your girl here can type it up later.” He rolled up the paper and pushed it down the front of her blouse until it was wedged in Sarah’s cleavage. She gave a disconcerted whimper. “But mainly what we need is a beautician / hairdresser, a nurse, a dietician, someone to keep the girls fit and four maid servants to keep the place clean. On top of that I think I need three maybe four for entertaining. I’d just like to see a selection of what you’ve got in stock for that, I’m not too fussy. Just as long as they’re equipped and willing.”
“Well, what do you think, gentlemen?” Freddie said to Harry and myself.
Harry spoke first, “I’m sure we can come up with some possibilities. The research teams have been doing well lately and were building a bigger and bigger database of potential acquisitions. I’d suggest that we try to pull together a list of maybe’s and then get you to look over them Emir, to see which of them will fit the bill.”
“Sure,” said the Emir, still toying with Sarah’s breasts. “That sounds great. If the pick-ups are as good as the staff,” a pinch to the nipple brought another squeak from the gagged Sarah, “I’ll be happy. Why don’t you bring your ideas up to the castle next week? Your guys will be finished by then won’t they?” Freddie nodded. “OK come up to the castle, you can show me what you propose and I’ll show you where they’ll be working.”
“That sounds fine,” I said.
“Great,” said the Emir. “Oh, and bring this little cutie with you.” He pinched Sarah again. “She’s fun to have around.”
© Freddie Clegg 2006
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