Forty-Four Hours, Part 11
The house lights were slowly brought to half, then after a pause, raised to
full. Kara stared into the audience. Now a different embarrassment swept over
her as she saw the handful of women, some gazing intently on her, some scanning
the file in front of them. A moment of silence passed, then from the center of
the third row a woman who appeared to be barely 30 shifted her position and
spoke. Her words caught Kara somewhat by surprise, "Would you please untie the
subject and remove the posture collar? I want to see her fully, how she carries
herself when she walks." A crimson robed figure came forward and removed both
items, while whispering in her ear that she was allowed to rub her wrists. Kara
gratefully took advantage of the opportunity then turned to her right and slowly
walked across the stage then turned, momentarily facing the audience and walked
back to center stage. The spotlights followed and illuminated every movement.
From the end seat on the fifth row, a woman watched silently as the subject
carried out one command after another, some consisting of simply posing, others
bordering on a scintillating perversity. She brushed the honey colored curls of
her hair away from the freckled face that belied the intensity that roamed
within her. She observed not only the subject but also the other ten women in
the audience. She recognized a few but most were strangers to her eyes. After
all, this was only her second month as a provisional member and her first
auction in the District. Two days ago, she sat in similar surroundings in
Chicago and made her first purchase, a 31-year-old subject. Next week she would
be in Miami where she intended to bid on a rarity, a 38-year-old raven-haired
Hispanic woman and her 20-year-old niece, who were being offered as a pair.
As she continued to study the subject before her, she mused at the strange,
almost bizarre turns her life had taken within the past year. At the age of 43,
she'd resigned her position as director of research with a small but prosperous
biotech firm outside the District. Years of uncompromising work and intense
dedication to her career field in molecular biology had left her with wealth
beyond her wildest dreams, largely as a result of stock options that had
multiplied profusely. Shortly after her resignation, she received a call from a
woman who stated she represented an elite women's group. The call led to a
lunch. It was there she met Anna. Though easily in her late fifties, Anna
exuded sensuality, grace and composure one rarely encountered, and yet, a
presence signifying her wisdom, refinement and wealth. She cautiously broached
the subject of what a wealthy woman in her early forties intended to do with her
life. The response had been only that she'd purchased a small horse farm with
12 stalls and both indoor and outdoor training arenas nestled in the mountains
of eastern West Virginia. There she intended to pursue a long time passion of
training and showing horses. Anna had slipped a business card into her hand
that said simply "The Coterie" and a phone number. The freckled face recalled
the odd remark ...'If you train horses, then why not women?' Anna introduced
her to an idea that, at the time, she thought was utterly insane.
Now her attention was diverted back to the stage as the Countess in the gold
trimmed robe announced that bids were to be placed. Hastily the woman with the
honey colored curls scrawled a six-figured number and her name on the form
provided and slipped it into the envelope. She got up, walked confidently to
the edge of the stage and dropped the envelope into the silver chalice. Seven
other women did the same with three choosing to remain silent regarding the
feminine offering on the stage.
Within moments, she returned to her seat and focused her gaze on the subject who
stood still beneath the glare of the spotlights, her hands clasped behind her
head and her feet shoulder width apart. The wait seemed an eternity as eight
envelopes were opened and bids recorded and Kara stood still, scarcely
remembering to breathe. Finally, the alto voice announced, "The winning bid for
Kara belongs to one of our newest members, Countess Roslyn."
With a sigh of relief, Roslyn brushed the honey colored curls from her face,
rose from her seat, climbed the five steps up to the stage and walked boldly to
what she had purchased. Eyes met eyes. Chills raced across Kara's bare flesh.
In an instant Roslyn's right hand slapped Kara sounded across her left cheek.
"Never look me in the face! Do you understand? In my presence, your eyes will
always be lowered unless told otherwise."
Kara quickly lowered her eyes and uttered a somewhat distressed "Yes Mistress."
"Furthermore you will address me as Mistress Roslyn until that name is fully
ingrained in your mind. It will be 'Mistress Roslyn, how may slave please you?
Mistress Roslyn thank you for beating me!' Do you understand, slave?"
Kara felt the trembling consume her wondering what species of woman had just
purchase her but somewhere within she spoke again, "yes, Mistress Roslyn."
"Now that we have that straight," Roslyn quickly unsnapped the coteries leash
from the collar and quickly hooked her own black braided leash into the ring,
"on your hands and knees, slave, and let your tongue find my boots."
Kara dropped to her hands and knees. The feral urges she experienced weeks ago
at Rhonda's feet flashed through her mind, except this time it was not bare feet
that were presented for service, but the soft black leather of Roslyn's boots.
Instinctively she began by kissing the toe of each boot then letting her tongue
move toward the instep and continue licking up to the ankle then slowly over the
arch. As she did, the image of what she was doing penetrated her mind ... nude,
on her hands and knees, face against the leather, her ash blonde hair hanging
around her face and brushing against the leather, onstage, uncounted pairs of
eyes watching. Somehow, none of it seemed to matter. She felt a passionate
stirring in tummy that transmitted itself down to the core of her sex.. The
urges consumed her. The experience of the forty-four hours with Sophia seemed
suddenly closer, closer than it had been in the weeks since her return. The
passion was interrupted by a sharp tug on the leash, jerking her head upward.
Instinctively she knelt, keeping her eyes focused only on Roslyn's boots.
Roslyn again brushed the honey colored curls away from her face again. She
turned toward the podium and gave a firm tug on the braided leash. "At my right
heel, slave. Crawl as I walk."
Kara complied and followed Countess Roslyn toward the podium.
At the podium, one of the handlers waited. Roslyn handed her the leash,
whispered something to her and then disappeared back into the audience. When
she was seated, she pulled out her cell phone and mashed the preprogrammed
number. "I've purchased her. She'll be prepared for shipment."
"You've done well. Your generosity will be rewarded in our organization...I
will keep my end of the bargain." a voice responded.
At the top of the stairs, the woman who was designated as Kara's handler paused
and pulled her charge back against the old brick wall. Kara glanced down the
stairway and caught sight of another slave being led upward. The clicking of
chains resonated against the concrete stairs with each step until the slave was
close enough for Kara to fully discern her situation. The subject was obviously
in more distress, her hair matted around her face, a bit gag pulled sharply
between her teeth. Kara could see the black leather straps running across the
shoulder and then as the woman passed, the single leather glove laced up her
arms, pinioning them inescapably behind her. From a ring embedded at the end of
the glove, a thin chrome plated chain dangled and connected to a similar chain
between a pair of ankle cuffs. The chain slapped against the steps with every
step. For a brief moment, their eyes met and Kara could see the fiery
determination in the younger woman's eyes. Glances were exchanged between the
two, one auctioned and one moments away from a similar fate. Then a tug on
Kara's leash refocused her attention and she stepped slowly down the stairs
behind her handler.
Kara was led to a long narrow room below the stage that years before had served
as a dressing room for the actors. The handler hooked the end of the leash to
an overhead pipe and indicated to her charge that she was to remain still.
Feeling the slight strain on her neck, Kara remained as motionless as possible.
The handler moved away from her for a moment then returned behind her and
uttered a simple command, "arms behind your back, slave, elbows as close
together as possible, your palms pressed together, thumbs against your waist."
In an almost robotic fashion, Kara moved her arms responding to the handler's
commands until the flat of her palms pressed together. Arching her back and
thrusting her breasts forward, she drew her elbows closer toward each other
until her arms felt an unnatural strain. It was only when she felt the leather
sheath quickly slid up along her hands and forearms did she grasp the
consequences of what the handler intended. The handler wiggled the sheath, the
single leather glove up past the forearms, above the elbows and around her upper
arms. Then she began lacing, drawing the strings expertly compressing Kara's
arms together behind her back. Kara muttered an audible gasp yet stifled the
question that raced through her mind of ... why me? Haven't I complied? Why am
I being treated as if I were like the unruly woman I passed on the stairs? ...
But she swallowed her words and left those thoughts unspoken as the laces were
drawn quickly into position until the strange sensations of enslavement rendered
her arms useless. Then the straps were passed around her shoulder and back to
the buckles on the top of the glove locking the insidious device in place. The
clinking of chain passed through the ring at the end of the glove then dropped
to the floor was followed by the cuffs snapped around each ankle, leaving her
only about twelve inches of freedom between each foot.
Still behind her the handler spoke sharply, "Open you mouth, bitch!" In an
instant, a black leather covered wad was shoved into her mouth and buckled
behind her head. Now she shook almost uncontrollably and her breasts heaved
rhythmically with her breathing. As Kara stood trying to recover a woman with
short black hair and piercing blue eyes who seemed incongruous to the others,
neither clad in a crimson robe nor seemingly one who had been in the theatre
walked up to her and began slowly fondling her breasts and toying with her
nipples.
"Nice specimen, who gets her?" was all she said as she continued toying with the
throbbing nipples and pressed a finger down against her sex. Unseen behind her,
the handler mouthed silently a few syllables eliciting the response, "poor
bitch, guess I'd better leave her property alone then" from the woman who slowly
released her hands from Kara's body.
The handler released the leash from the overhead pipe and led Kara a few steps
to her left, then pushed down on her shoulders, forcing Kara to her knees. The
leash was removed and a short length of chain replaced the leash. It was then
that Kara saw directly beneath her head the old ringbolt protruding from the
floor and an open padlock large enough to secure the doors of a warehouse. The
other end of the short chain was threaded through the padlock and the lock
snapped in place leaving Kara a scant twelve inches of freedom between her
collar and the ringbolt. She knelt in the fetal position, her breasts were
against her lower thighs, and her body strained uncomfortably, her eyes unable
to discern any movement above the level of the feet that passed by her.
Like some cowered animal, she remained in this position for an uncounted amount
of time as feet and boots passed by her. Conversations of things she didn't
understand reached her ears and occasionally remarks about her were spoken as if
she was not there.
Now Kara began to feel the reality of her situation. There was no ending, no
friend to unlock the door and release her, no flight to catch to return home, no
one with which to speak of her longings nor any counting down of the hours until
forty-four had passed. Suddenly it was not a game.
Then a pair of brown suede hiking boots appeared at her limited range of vision.
A hand touched her hair. Fingers ran softly against the leather straps that
held the gag in place.
"New life from the old, isn't that what I told you weeks ago, bitch?" The voice
was unmistakably Maya's. Do not raise your head; make no attempt to do so. For
this is how it begins, the chains of servitude, the fetal position, the feeling
of being one step above dirt on the floor. You remember my words, don't you?"
Kara could only nod. Her drool seeped from the corners of her mouth and
trickled against her knees.
"I've come to see you one last time, to see what you truly look like as the
property you heretofore only dreamed you could be and to witness your
transportation. You're going to a place that previously only existed in your
mind, but it exists. Oh yes, believe me, it exists!"
Tears began streaming from Kara's eyes, staining her cheeks. Her entire body
shook as she sobbed.
Maya knelt beside Kara, her hands caressed her shoulders, and the sides of her
back until one hand slide almost innocently to her right buttock. From a
satchel around her neck, Maya withdrew a syringe, and then depressed the plunger
until a few drops of clear liquid spurted to the floor. She spoke quietly, "Be
very still, girl." Then with an expert quickness, she sank the needle into
Kara's hip and depressed the plunger until the clear liquid was drained from the
tiny chamber of the syringe, then the needle withdrawn.
To Kara, it was as if she had been stung by a bee and even in her emotional
state realized what was happening. She tightened her fingers inside the glove,
wanting to somehow fight the release of the liquid into her.
Maya paused for a moment until the tenseness began to ebb from Kara's body then
unbuckled the gag and remained kneeling beside the slave. She watched as Kara
opened her mouth and tried to form words.
Kara tried in vain to say something but her words wouldn't leave her lips in an
intelligible form. She fought the sensation but instantly knew her world was
going dark, that consciousness was leaving her body. She slumped forward and to
her right against Maya's thigh. Maya gently guided Kara's head to the floor and
allowed her body to sag unconscious against the old floor. She quickly checked
her pulse and nodded a gesture of approval. "She's out. Get a size 44 crate
and get her ready."
Footsteps hastened around the old dressing room and a 44" long cage was drug
over to the limp unconscious form. Several pairs of hands lifted Kara over the
shallow 24-inch high sides and gently placed her onto the green foam covering
the bottom of the crate, leaving her still bound and lying on her right side.
Maya pulled the ash blonde hair away from the nose and mouth of the sleeping
face. The lid of the cage was swung into place and strapped securely down.
Maya turned to a woman who waited to one side and looked into the piercing blue
eyes, "you're the one who'll be going with her?"
"Yes."
Maya handed her the satchel. "There's another syringe in there. What I gave
her should last about 4 hours. Take care of her. She's special."
"I know. I've already sampled her, the poor wench."
Maya laughed, "Knowing you, Joan, I'm sure you have, but hands off. You know
who she's going to?"
"Yeah, and believe me, I won't touch her in that way." Joan replied.
Maya smiled then turned to look at Kara one last time...
Kara stirred and awakened to strange noises, the smell of filtered air, and the
sensation that her environment was unnatural. Through foggy eyes, she tried to
look around. How long had she been unconsciousness? Hours? Days? She stirred
again until her feet touched the end of the cage. The glove that had imprisoned
her arms had been removed but her hands could only weakly move out to touch the
bars of the cage. Her body felt weak and uncoordinated. She focused her eyes
until her vision found the black haired woman and muttered, "Where am I?"
Joan looked at her, "you're on a private plane. We'll be there shortly."
"Be where?" Kara forced the words out slowly.
"It doesn't matter. You'll find out eventually."
"I think I need to pee..."
"If you do, then do so." The foam you're lying on will absorb it. Here drink
this." She held a water bottle through the bars to her lips and Kara sucked a
few swallows of water from the tube into her throat until the bottle was
withdrawn. "Hold still, you'll need one more injection..."
Kara felt the needle prick her left hip. She was too weak to avoid the hand
holding the flesh of her hip or the injection. As her mind tried to ascertain
if what she'd spoken was part of a dream or some strange, warped form of
reality, she lapsed into another bout of unconsciousness.
Moments after she drifted back into her personal darkness, the small jet began
its descent from 41,000 feet.
Morning sunlight filtered through high wispy clouds and found its way through
the small window near the top of the enclosure. First, the beam of sunlight
found the fresh straw that covered the scrubbed concrete floor of the enclosure.
Driven by the natural forces of the universe, the beam of sunlight slowly
advanced across the straw until it began its journey over the nude body the
slumbered on the fresh straw, first creeping over her left hip and then slowly
working its way across her upper torso, finally reaching the ash blonde hair
that framed the sleeping face. She lay on her back and as the sunlight lingered
over her dazed eyes and highlighted the iron collar fastened around her neck.
The polished iron glistened and the sunbeam highlighted the two iron rings, one
on either side of the collar. From each of those rings, welded chain wound
across the straw ending at padlocks securing it to similar iron that held each
delicate wrist. The beam of sunlight captured it all. Finally, the brightness
and warmth caused the nude slumbering form to stir slowly.
She shook the cobwebs from her fuzzy brain, her tongue poked at the dryness
inside her mouth. Before her eyes opened there was the sensation of tenderness,
something different resonating from sensitive parts of her body. Kara opened
her eyes and brought her hands to shield her eyes from the beam of light.
Before the thoughts of 'where am I' fully engulfed her consciousness, she felt
the sensitivity, the numb sensation of pain. She raised her head from the
straw, toward the dull pain. It was then she saw the gold rings eloquently
adorning her nipples and her labia. She sank back in the straw. Her mind
reeled; her breathing intensified. 'My god, what have they done' was all that
flashed through her mind. She muttered an anguished cry and extended her right
hand towards her nipples but the chain stopped her inches short of touching the
new adornments. She sat up and leaned forward until her fingers barely touched
the smoothness of the nipple rings. Her fingers lingered at her nipples
touching the foreign metal and then the sensitivity of her nipples. She wanted
to touch the similar rings in her labia but knew such efforts were useless.
In the distance, she heard the creaking of a door opening, or was it shutting.
Footsteps walking toward her resolved the question ... distant, yet coming
closer. She refocused her eyes at her surroundings. A horse stall, yes,
freshly painted, freshly cleaned, but where? Where was she? Who approached?
Her natural instinct was to try to stand and run, but run to where? And could
she even stand in her still groggy condition?
Boots! Heeled boots coming closer, every step ... her breathing intensified!
The beam of sunlight fully captured her ringed nipples, her heaving breasts. It
was then that she noticed the iron rings around each ankle and the short chain
between the two ankles. As she stared at her ankles, boots came into her field
of vision. Something familiar crossed her mind. She raised her head. She
gasped!
"Sophia!!"
"Welcome home, bitch! You didn't think you'd escape me forever, now did you?"
Kara's eyes embraced what stood before her, Sophia in her back leather mini, the
white blouse opened nearly to the waist, her angular face, and the wickedly warm
smile. Sophia walked over to Kara, knelt and kissed her cheeks. She placed a
finger under Kara's chin and lifted her face. Lips languished upon lips until
Sophia broke the kiss. "They're all here waiting for you, slave. Well, almost
all. Annie was shipped back east this morning on the private jet that brought
you here. She'll become Roslyn's main slave. Roslyn has great potential in our
organization, but more of that later."
Sophia paused letting the full effect sink into Kara's awakening consciousness.
She bent forward and clasped Kara under her armpits until the dazed woman stood
wobbly on her legs for the first time in hours. "But Jessica and Rhonda are
here, and now I have you. In a manner of speaking, we all have you..."
