I sat across the desk from the Fixer as he read though my list of requirements. From his office, one would get the impression that he was a very successful CEO of a large corporation. That wasn't far from the truth, although his company didn't trade on any exchanges anywhere.
He set the papers down. "I don't see any major problem, but this has to be done through several intermediaries, just for our protection. When she disappears, there is going to be hell to pay." He tapped the paper. "Even if your plan works to disguise the ending."
"The pilot is going to be the tough one," he continued. "And the most expensive. You're probably going to have to pay for him to disappear overseas for five years or so." He let out a long breath. "If your plan blows up anywhere, not only is the bill for hell going to be large, so is the breakfast that hell is going to come to."
"The main problem is," I answered, " that she will probably finish up in a month or so. That is all the time we have, or I have to come up with another scheme. And this one was hard enough."
"Ok. I'll start on it today. Get your wallet dusted off. This is going to be expensive, win or lose."
I apologized to Teema for blowing up when she gave me her idea of entering the equivalent of a sex academy. She accepted it and asked if we could discuss it further. I warned her that I had not changed my mind, but feel free to give her side of the argument. She went off to marshal her thoughts.
Back at my desk, I attempted to refine my plan. The only sticky part was getting the inside person on the job. After that, it should unwind like a piece of string. Madam X, the young movie star target, was taking private pilot lessons at a small airport well inland. It must have been for personal gratification - she certainly had more than enough money to rent or buy a plane of any size if she wanted to use that means to escape the paparazzi. Thanks to the weasel that I had hired, I knew more about the flying school than the owners did. They had two pilot instructors, I knew. They were the key.
The equipment and vehicles were already procured, as were the personnel - courtesy of the Fixer - and I put the plans back on the shelf, so to speak, to sleep on them.
At the end of Mrs T's last session, she had finally indicated that she was ready to try some permanent bondage - actually permanent was my plan for her - she thought of it as long term. As she said, her life away from the mountain had turned into nothing but a boring waiting exercise until her next session. She had been liquidating her assets and placing them into movable assets - but therein lay a problem. Certain distant relations, waiting in the background for her demise so that they could inherit, had petitioned the court to prevent her from selling her estate, on the grounds that she was obviously becoming senile. Why else would a woman in her late forties be wanting to dispose of a house that had been in the family for- twenty years? The petition was weak and obviously self serving and did not present an obstacle that couldn't be easily overcome, although in the nature of things, it took quite a bit of time.
Mrs N was on an extended tour overseas. I toyed with the idea of having her taken while there. It would solve the problem of her disappearing from the same city that two others had vanished from. But I had too many portions on my plate at the moment to dish out another one. Besides, there was no way to plan that type of operation - it would have to be a target-of-opportunity job.
Good news came in. The two instructors at the flying school had received lucrative offers elsewhere and had given notice. More of my money gone.
Teema and I were having a civilized conversation about something that I was adamantly against, i.e. her enrolling in the Courtesan school in Turkey. I had to admit that she had marshaled some good, if not telling arguments.
"I will always be grateful for your protection and support when I was - am - vulnerable to my relatives. But when I came here I was a minor of seventeen. I am now eighteen and as far as the laws in your country are concerned, I am of age. Correct?
I had to admit that it was so.
"So, I could leave here at any time." She smiled. "Unless you collar me and chain me to Pancake's kitchen over there."
"I might do it, if I think you are going to do something stupid," I replied, not entirely as a joke.
She continued with a... what? quizzical look. "I don't know that I would be all that unhappy if you did chain me to your bed, although I would be poor replacement for Stephanie." She paused. "Anyway, I understand that your reluctance to allow me to do this thing, is because of your friendship with my uncle. And I appreciate that. But you are focusing on the training that I would go through, instead of the reason for my going through it."
I shook my head. "Teema, I know exactly why you want to, and I think it could be a lucrative and very interesting business, but..." I thought about how to say what I knew to be true. "You think that the school would be an intensive set of lessons in how to pleasure a male. Thats correct as far as it goes. But you will come out as a different person - totally. Instead of a woman who knows how to train others in the art, you will be a woman who only wants to pleasure men. Totally changed. Teema Mark II. No matter how much you resist the change, you will change into a real courtesan."
"Is that so bad?" she asked.
That took me aback. "Well..." I didn't know what to say.
"How about if we tell my Uncle what I want to do and why. That relieves you of the responsibility and places it on him. At any rate, if I want to do this, in two years I will have the money and nobody can stop me."
I gave in, a little. "Let me get this current operation finished, then we'll talk about your options."
The main cornerstone in my plan was laid successfully. Our own instructor pilot had been accepted with gratitude for employment by the flying school. They were desperate to fill the holes that suddenly appeared in their school roster. He was now to act as a normal instructor and await orders. Also to inform his intermediary if any other potential instructors applied for work.
There was no way that I would be able to bird dog this operation like the last one. It would happen too fast and cover too much ground. And the ground that it passed over was going to be inspected to the last inch once the authorities were called in.
The other teams were in place, waiting.
For the safety of myself and the Fixer, the show was being run by a coordinator unconnected in any way to the Fixer's operation. He assured me that if it blew up, that at least two links between it and us would evaporate, leaving no trail back to the middle of the country.
Updates came via throw away cell phones, of course. But not while I was on the mountain. That pesky GPS feature was a definite pain for businessmen who wanted to remain anonymous. I checked in at a hotel a state away as the operation ramped up.
A hotel somewhere in a city
The operation was rolling. Madam X had showed up for a lesson. I checked out of the hotel, paying cash and accepting the paperwork with the secured credit card information. It was a good card, just had a different name than the other IDs in my wallet. There was a huge mall just down the road. I drove there, walked inside and sat down at a coffee clutch.
I watched the girls stroll past, measuring each one for a collar and bracelets. There was one babe at two tables over that I would have loved to-
She and the instructor were in the air. In an hour, she would be just another unconscious female- Could be, I corrected. I didn't see how it could fail now, barring a total failure of luck, but I was always conscious that Murphy was out there waiting. At this point, the weasel was out of it, leaving the state to pick up his stipend, and disappear to enjoy the proceeds.
More watching of the girls, but by now, between the caffeine and the waiting, I was having trouble concentrating on mere tits and asses.
An hour went buy. Then another half hour. Shit, this was way past the schedule. Something was wrong. Surely the instructor didn't get lost flying over the desert. Or the little single engine plane lost a-
"Uh... Uh... Yeah, Charlie."
She was landing on the deserted strip. The instructor would have just "happened" to notice a landing strip below and would naturally take the opportunity to have his student try a touch and go. Once down, he would ask her to stop because of some vibration that he could hear. They would taxi down to the end where a crew was working on a backhoe, next to a large dump truck and a couple of other vehicles. The men would be friendly, and would come up to ask what was going on as the two pilots got out to check the plane. Strong arms would suddenly grab the girl, a restaurant ketchup dispenser would be shoved between her teeth and squeezed hard. That would be followed by another loaded with enough water to make her choke the syrup down. That method had been tested exhaustively by me in the cave. In fifteen minutes she would be strapped into the seat of a pickup, upright and unconscious, and being driven down the dirt road - just another guy and his girl out for a ride.
First, and I emphasized that it was not to be forgotten, the emergency locator transmitter would be turned off and removed. The last thing that I wanted was for it to start flagging down a satellite to report a crash.
The small Cessna would be towed or taxied off into the sand, the backhoe would rupture the fuel tanks in both wings, then when empty, it would be towed further on to get away from the flammable liquid on the ground. There the backhoe and chainsaws would make short work of the thin aluminum plane, paying particular attention to shredding the parts with the registration number. It would be loaded into the dump truck, then the backhoe would plow up the ground to bury any small pieces of metal that were overlooked.
The backhoe would be loaded onto the trailer, and both trucks would drive off into the distance. The dump truck to a metals recycling center and the backhoe back to the rental shop.
Another two hours went by.
As I walked out of the mall, I deposited the two pieces in widely spaced trash receptacles.
I realized that I shouldn't have spent several hours drinking coffee. Between the tension and the gallons of caffeine, I was shaking like a man with palsy.
By the time I got back, the Internet news sites were buzzing with the news that the famous star had not returned from a practice flying lesson. The Civil Air Patrol and the State Police were mobilizing to begin the search. By nightfall, all of the cable and broadcast news had it. A search along the path that they were to have taken had found nothing. Of course, the published flight plan had them going up the coast, not into the desert. But even if they had been on course, they would have found nothing. By now the plane was a pile of anonymous junk in a metals yard, and the object of the search was somewhere in a western state heading east.
That night I collapsed, uninterested in the several sets of delicious tail that I could have unwound with.
The next morning, I checked out the special cell that was built at the far back of the cave. It was an actual plywood room, separate from the main cave, totally enclosed and just big enough to hold a steel cage about 8 feet square. The floor of the cage had a blanket and a small pillow. There was an open hole in one corner for the commode and a faucet that would deliver a trickle of water. That was it - well, there was a bare light bulb overhead. A tray of food could be slipped in a slot at the floor, but any occupant would be completely isolated from the main dungeon.
Eventually, another throwaway phone rang, and I drove into town to my warehouse, loaded up and soon had my new possession on the mountain.
Teema and I got off the plane and waited to collect our luggage. While we were standing there, I saw a huge, ugly hulk of a man heading for us, followed by another, only somewhat less intimidating. It was Acid Face and a cohort.
"Welcome, Doruk," I said in Turkish. "Nice to see you again." Actually, I was stretching it a bit - I doubt that his mother would be happy to see him again. He was taken aback - never before had he heard me speak in his language - or call him by his real name. He nodded, but that was normal. He seldom used more than ten words a day, at least whenever I had been around him.
"This is Ayhan's niece," I said pointing at Teema. "She's the reason that Tarkan has sent you here." It was true - I had asked Tarkan for a couple of toughs as bodyguards while we were in the country. He gladly acquiesced. "There are a few relatives around that would like to see her harmed for reasons of money. You are to never let her out of your sight unless we are at her Uncle's."
He nodded and both took up positions behind her. Shortly we were on the curb looking for Ayhan's limo, which was waiting across the street.
Ayhan greeted us in his usual blatant style at the door of his mansion. He also was surprised when I answered in his language. "Fatimah has done an excellent job in a short time."
Returning his greetings, I replied, "Yes, she's a first class teacher. In fact, that is why we are here. She wants to discuss another teaching arrangement."
After a sumptuous lunch, I excused myself to let the two talk about- well, something that I expected Ayhan to veto in no uncertain terms.
The first stop was at my friend Tarkan's retreat for women. He also greeted me in his ebullient style, and ushered me into his office for the definitely non-non alcoholic drink. Since I had no women placed with him at the moment, the talk was generic. I got a tour of some of the nicer specimens that he was holding at the moment. Once again, he encouraged me to send him some of my fine American women. Of course, I assured him that when I got more, his was the only place they would be sent.
I got back to Ayhan's mansion by nightfall, wondering what kind of family squabble I was about to walk into. In his study that night, I settled back with a glass and waited for him to tell me the outcome. He did, and it was a total surprise.
I probably could have guessed if I had thought about it enough. In this part of the world, the idea of a submissive woman wasn't the lighting rod that it was in America. It was almost assumed; in fact, in the more remote areas, it was enforced. So, if Teema wanted to learn how to become more submissive, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.
I gave in. If she wanted to enroll in Suliman's sex academy, I would pay for it.
I was down to four females, if I didn't count the fat bitch on the round platform. Plus a girl/boy and a normal boy with low hanging nuts. With Teema now in the sex academy, the population of the cave was as low as it had been in a long time.
Things were back to normal now, if normal was a word that could be applied to my home, hobby and business. There were no big operations in the planning stage - actually, there were no little ones either. Mrs N. was off in Europe somewhere, and the only active clients I had were Mrs B and Mrs T. The latter was still trying to get her assets sold off and liquidized. She would disappear from the outside world into real slavery fairly soon.
I was trying to decide if I wanted to continue my rich bitch bondage business. I enjoyed it, but I knew that I didn't want to crank it back up to full time - I liked traveling too much. I enjoyed the fall weather, walked the length and breadth of my property, which was fairly large by now, all the while trying to decide what I wanted for the future.
Both Pancake and Cupcake had obviously been talking with Stephanie ever since she had been brought into the cave. They had heard all about the slave pits of Tarkan, and the sex school belonging to Suliman. Neither could just out and out ask me, but both hinted that they would like to attend the school also. While Cupcake was young enough to attend, Pancake was getting close to fifty years of age and was far too old to train as a silk girl. And I didn't have any interest in sending either one, anyway. I made that plain.
They slowly changed their hinting to the idea of them being sent to Tarkans. I assume that from the standpoint of a female who has no clue of what she is talking about, the prospect of being sold as a slave in a real slave market is thrilling. Stephanie's tales must have made the idea seem romantic. Or maybe they were just getting bored with the sameness of their lives. I wondered what they would think when they wound up as slaves for life in some unknown city, with dirt streets and no running water. But, it was an idea that had some merit.
But to stop them from bugging me about something that was not their business, I stretched both of them in vertical X chains - tight - for the day. Just to make sure, I had Coco install maximum gags and a full hood on both. And to keep them from getting bored, I let Coco and the boy have access to them all day. By the end of the day, both were well used - fore and aft.
Meanwhile, the bitch Pudgy was, well... still just a fat lump on her platform. Her eyes would follow me when I stood in front of her so I assumed that her mind was still functioning. Her calorie intake had long since been rationalized so that she didn't get any bigger, if that was possible. Much more weight would have made it impossible for Coco and the boy to turn her over. I would have sold her as a exotic attraction if I could have figured out how to get her to Tarkans. As it was, when she died, it was going to take a forklift to remove her.
My new possession had not calmed down during my absence. Pancake had orders to keep her fed, but to do nothing else. Actually, she couldn't have if she had dared to. The room that the cage was in was locked, as was the cage itself. She had yelled and screamed and threatened before I left for Europe, and according to Pancake, for several days after before finally winding down. Now she just made a fuss when food was pushed into the slot - apparently assuming that was the time that the delivery person could hear her.
Looking at her though the small hole in the plywood, high up on one end of the wooden box, I could see her restlessly moving around the small area, before finally sitting down. An hour or so later, she would start all over again, testing the door, the lock, reaching thought the cage to bang on the plywood. She was a beauty - large breasts, hips, narrow waist. Of course, she was a long way from being a teenager, but no less exciting for that. Right now she wasn't quite made up for the Academy Awards, with her hair in disarray and any trace of makeup long gone. No problem for me - I like my women natural and au natural.
Now I had a problem. She was worth a fortune - no, she was priceless to a certain desert dwelling acquaintance, but I was having certain- feelings? stirrings? - about the idea of keeping her. I wondered about keeping her as an unbroken slave. Of course, unbroken didn't mean unrestrained. Right now, she would claw the eyes out of anybody that she could reach.
I needed a name for her.
Some more walking and thinking was in order.
Mrs B was reaching the point of so many of my clients before her. She was scheduling more and more often, and for longer times. Bondage was her life and the outside world just a boring interlude. I decided to take her permanently, but I would try a different capture method - one that I had used a single time before. This would be much safer than abducting her here.
After her next session, I asked her to sit down in my office.
"Mrs B," I started. "I wonder if you would like to take a trip with me." She opened her eyes in some surprise. "I'm going to visit a real slave dungeon overseas that is owned by a friend of mine." I was watching for a reaction to see if I had measured her properly. Her eyes lit up with disbelief.
"Are you telling me that there are real slavers... I mean, that they really exist?" She knew what every civilized person knew - slavery was pretty well exterminated in the eighteenth century.
"I can assure you that it does exist, and is alive and well in some parts of the world."
"My god! That's unbelievable." She sat back and thought about it. "Do you mean, slaves, like... uh, well... as I..."
"Women who like to be dominated, like you?" I completed. "Yes, but mostly other kinds. Some are voluntary, some are not. Many are just women, or men, who have escaped from a life that is worse than the forced life they are sold into."
I leaned back and looked at her. "Just a thought. I was going over to visit a couple of friends and thought you might like to see the real thing. It might give you ideas. At any rate, we can have no sessions while I am gone, anyway." Hmmm. I added, "Of course, what I am telling you is secret. Slavers don't like their business talked about."
Her face was a mass of conflicting emotions. "Yes, of course. When do we leave?"
"It will be a while. I'll let you know well before its time to pack."
I continued my walks around the maze of paths on my mountain and thinking. I had about decided to get out of the play bondage business. Maybe I was getting decadent, or maybe whipping rich bitches was getting boring. I wasn't getting out of the real bondage business, I just wanted something different.
In the back of the cave, I examined the far back wall where it narrowed down to a crack about six inches wide. My flashlight could see that it went beyond the range of the beam, but I had no idea how far. Tunneling was out of the question - this was hard rock and would be far beyond my ability to penetrate. Bringing in a crew of tunnelers was obviously a no-show. My dungeon would make for some lively conversation in a bar.
Upstairs, I started some research.
I watched the geophysical crew move their equipment up and down the mountain to the north. My house sat on the south slope, only about 50 feet below the peak, heightwise. I had panoramic scene to the east, south and west, but only a view of the slope up the side of the mountain to the north. The actual top was about 300 feet north in a gentle rise.
The old dungeon cave entrance was in the southwest side of the mountain, about 60 feet below the level of where the old hotel stood. I knew that most caves didn't just have a single chamber, and was trying to find out if mine went further into the hill. The team of men, lead by a geologist, was trying to make a sonar scan to map out possible voids connecting my cave, which of course they didn't know about. Every now and then there was a thump, more felt than heard as their explosions went off. This was a high tech version of what oil companies have done for years to find a patch to drill in - instead of using dynamite, or equivalent, this one used compressed air, somehow, but which also didn't require a permit from the authorities. More of my privacy fanaticism was showing through.
The geologist came to my home office with a arm full of seismological maps. I decided that we needed more room, so we adjourned to the dining room and used the big table.
"Mr. Tatem," he began, "I would appear that you have an extensive set of voids under your property. Of course, in this part of the state, that isn't unusual. You are in the middle of the karsk topography for this area. There are probably hundreds of caves and voids still to be found in a hundred mile radius of here."
He pointed to a 3-D map of my mountain. "Notice that from this void here," - he was pointing to my dungeon - "there is a string of refractions that moves back up here," - he moved his finger along the map - "up along here, then continues on into the body of the mountain." He pulled out a different map. "That area is too deep for our sounder, but it appears to continue on for an unknown distance."
He handed me a research paper. "Since you are too high off the valley floor to have continuous running water, these were probably formed several hundred thousand years ago when the climate here was much warmer and wetter. Rainwater would have percolated from caches in the rocks, into the ground and dissolved the softer rock, forming the voids."
A while later, I thanked him for his work, gave him a check, and saw him off.
I thought about the business that Teema had come up with. I had seen one like it in action, and had used the product that it produced. But, I really had no interest in training women to be good lovers. Bondage and discipline was my forte and always would be. I wondered how Teema was, well, I doubt that the word was enjoying... if her current circumstances matched her expectations. I wouldn't know for a long time.
I sat back and read though the geologist's reports, spending most of my time on the artist's sketch of what they thought my underground terrain looked like. I decided to find out. What the heck, it was only money.
The mountaintop was ringing with the drills of the original Mexican rock crew. On the western slope, away from the road and view, they were driving a small shaft horizontally to intersect the largest "void" that my geologist had indcated. Although nothing was particularly secret, I just didn't advertise the work because of my normal fanaticism about privacy. If the seismo charts were right, they would have to go almost three hundred feet. The excess rock was carted to a gully on the same side of the mountain.
I whiled away at the time with my three clients, and my harem. None could match Stephanie for technique, by far, but sometimes a man gets tired of eating caviar and wants a hamburger instead. I was anxious for my big lush brown girl to get back - I missed her greatly.
Finally, the crew holed through into a large cavern. I had them stop and go take a break somewhere for a couple of weeks while I explored.
The cavern was huge, much bigger than my dungeon cave. Just like the seismo charts had indicated, it went north and south. I was not an experienced spelunker, so I was very careful in my exploring. I had no desire to fall into a bottomless pit somewhere. The big cavern went south into a much smaller one, then continued on through a crack that was too small to enter. I set a spotlight to shine in the crack in the back of the dungeon, and could barely see a reflection of it on the other side. I estimated the distance between my dungeon and the closest void that a person could fit into to be about seventy five to a hundred feet.
In the other direction, that is to say north, the big cavern continued at a down slope in a series of three smaller caves then again finally into a crack that was too small to enter. The whole series of voids in the rock was about six hundred feet long, not counting my current dungeon.
Bringing the rock crew back, I set them to making a passage between my dungeon and the new caves. While they drilled and mucked rock, I built a small wooden room at the back of my dungeon where the crack went into the back wall. This would prevent them from seeing into my dungeon when they broke through. Of course, on that day, I would have all the lights in the cave off and everybody trussed up and gagged.
In a few weeks, they had broken through and I now had a nice passageway from my dungeon to the new caves. The last thing they did was dynamite the access hole closed - the one that they tunneled into the mountain to intersect the new cavern. Now the only way in was through my dungeon. I paid them off, and they gathered up their equipment and left.
Of course, the big cavern was just like my dungeon when I first entered it. That is to say, the floor was far from flat, rocks were everywhere, and nothing was level. My original cave had the floor semi flattened with truckloads of clean river sand, but I probably wasn't going to do that with the new caves. For one thing, it would take hundreds of tons, and for another, I didn't plan to live in it.
As I ran conduit for power, a water line and a return sewer pipe, I began to plan what to do with the new space. At this point, I was still unsure, but had some ideas.
I finished my first enhancement to the new cavern - a steel cage, a cube, eight feet by eight feet by eight feet. All six sides were built of one inch bars and was totally unescapable without a heavy duty hacksaw, a cutting touch or the key to one lock and the combination to the other. Food could be slid through a floor slot, and the commode was a hole in one corner. This would be the home of my new possession.
One evening, I put a dose of GHB in Madam X's food, and waited for a hour or so until it took effect.
Coco, Pancake, Cupcake and the boy each took a limb, and followed me into the new cavern - the first time they had seen it. They were quite awed by its extent, although unlike the dungeon, it was just a raw cave with nothing in it except a few lights, some pipes and a cage.
Once they deposited the limp woman in the new cage, I attached permanent bracelets and a collar. To each bracelet, I attached a chain which ran through rings welded at floor level to each corner of the steel cage. Passing though the rings, each chain continued on past steel rods hammered into the rock floor at an angle leaning away from the cage. This was a simple restraint system that required no locks. Any link of each chain could be passed over the rod and would limit the amount of movement that the woman could make. She could be X'ed out tight on the floor, or by moving down the chain so many feet, could be allowed almost normal movement inside of the cage. Of course, the rods were out of reach of the woman in the cage, so she couldn't reach though the bars and pull the chains off the rods. Even if she did, the cage was still double locked.
I gave her lots of slack, and left until she woke up.
I began work on another, identical cage.
Looking into the cavern from the passageway, I could see that my new possession was awake and prowling around looking at her new environment. This would be the first time she would see an actual person since her kidnapping.
She froze as her eye caught movement to the side. I casually walked into the cavern and up to her cage. This was no wallflower - this was a women who expected to be in charge and giving orders ever since she was a young actress. I took her only seconds to revert to her true type.
"You son of a bitch! I want out of here, and I mean right now. Get these goddamned chains off me.!" Hmmmm The several weeks in the solitary confinement cage didn't take any edge off her personality. "You and everybody else in this cave are going to rue the day you kidnapped me! My security team is going to remove your balls though your asshole! If you're lucky, the law will get you first."
I just stood and watched, smiling. It didn't seem to help.
She tried to rattle the bars with some massive pulling with both hands. It was a waste of effort. I was not a professional welder, but no mere woman was going to break inch thick welded steel bars. "Goddammit! I said open this cage, right now!" There was a lot more along the same lines, but to print it all would just be to list a long tirade of expletives, threats, and improbable actions. It took almost five minutes for her to wind down with a final, "Who are you?"
Still smiling, I replied, "I am your Master. That is what you will call me at least once in every sentence." My reply wasn't welcomed all that much. She started on another tirade describing the most improbable and probably impossible actions that would happen before she called me that. "Well, you will learn, eventually," I finally got in when she had to pause for breath. "I came in here to tell you something, if you will let me get a word in edgewise."
She waited, holding the bars with both hands and glaring at me between them.
The feeling of... what? power? erotism? domination? whatever, of a previously rich and powerful woman was overwhelming. This could get addictive.
"Good." I continued. "Tomorrow, you will be taken out of that cage." Her eyebrows raised, but unfortunately her expectations were probably wrong. "You will be strapped over a rack, with your ass in the air." I pulled an double bladder enema nozzle from my back pocket and held it up. "I will personally insert this up your asshole. Then this big bladder will be inflated inside you." I squeezed on bulb and blew it up to the size of a lemon. I definitely had her attention, as she was staring at the nozzle. I continued. "Then this smaller bladder will be inflated to keep it from going further in and also to help seal it." Surprisingly she kept looking and didn't blow up. Then your ass will be filled with a gallon of liquid, which will contain certain other liquids."
I dropped the bladder to the floor and before she could find a reply, continued, "Then myself and two slaves are going to fuck you in both holes. How many times, depends on how horny we are and whether you learn to use the word, 'Master'".
Much quieter now, she said, "Why are you doing this to me?"
Interesting, I thought. She was smart enough to know when to be the enraged female and when to gather information.
"Well, I am a modern day slaver and you are just another catch. I have an order for you from a gentleman on the other side of the world. What he wants you for, I don't know, but I doubt that it is for an acting position." With that, I turned around and left. It caught her by surprise, so the threats didn't restart until I was halfway to the new passageway.
As I lay down that night, after Stephanie worked my body into a limp rag, I began to think about what I had said. It wasn't a lie - I was a modern day slaver, and I liked it. The two operations that had snagged the two actresses were thrilling, both to plan and to put into action.
That is what I would do. I would set up an organization that would trade in rich and famous women.
Copyright© 2011 by Morlock. All rights reserved.