Service Days
by Sir Richard

Chapter 5

The New Club

That evening Bill took us to the S&M club. It was located further north on the San Francisco peninsula and didn't look much like Dianne's club except that the building appeared to be a private home on large grounds. The parking was in a converted carriage house and the home spoke of the golden age of vast fortunes in mining and shipping on the west coast.

As with the earlier club I stripped and tied Cathy in the garage. She was locked into a ball gag as Bill had indicated that gags were pretty much a standard item for slaves at this club. We also laced her arms behind her in the single glove and hobbled her ankles. With a leash snapped onto her collar we were ready to go.

We entered through what appeared to be the front door into a relatively small reception area where Bill introduced us to Jerry and explained, in whispered tones, why he had brought us. I could see Jerry glancing over in our direction from time to time. Pete simply stood around. He looked tough enough without having to put on an act.

We went through the usual vetting with Pete and me presenting drivers' licenses and credit cards. Cathy, as a nude and bound and gagged slave was ignored. I didn't know how much of a line of credit Pete's cards carried but at least he had a Virginia driver's license with a civilian address. My California driver's license and credit cards were, of course, impeccable thanks to the Major. I suspect that they checked out my provenance and when it proved to be OK with unlimited credit on the cards, just recorded Pete's data without bothering to check. Jerry gave us charge cards for use in the club and indicated that we could proceed to the main room.

We entered a darker, less elegant club than Dianne's. Where Diane had a lounge with curtains, wood paneling, adequate lighting and club chairs; this was a large room, poorly lit, with theater seats bolted to the floor facing the stage. Between each pair of chairs was a small table. On the other side of each chair was a wide aisle that allowed passage and still provided room for slaves to kneel next to their masters or mistresses. Ring bolts were bolted to the floor next to each seat so that your slave could be secured in position.

I couldn't see the bar although there obviously was one as I could see waitresses circulating among the chairs. This room was obviously not designed for convivial conversation but was set up to observe what was happening on the stage, which was the best lit part of the room.

We'd just settled into a pair of seats and snapped Cathy's leash to the ring next to my seat when the waitress showed up. If there had been any doubt about the character of the club the waitress' costume would have dispelled it. She wore a ridiculous parody of the classic French maid's uniform.

Her black dress was cut so that the bodice ran below her breasts forming a sort of support shelf. Each breast was tightly corded at the base making the flesh appear darker than the surrounding flesh. It looked very painful. With the pressure of the blood trapped in her breasts her nipples were unable to expand very much but each one had been ringed and a small bell hung from each ring.

The lower half of the dress was held out stiffly by what appeared to be starched short petticoats exposing the woman's shaved and ringed pussy and, when she turned, her buttocks and the base of the butt plug she was wearing. A long hasp lock, such as one that might be used to secure a bicycle ran, through her four labia rings effectively denying further penetration but pulling downward on the rings. I say further penetration, because the base of a sizable dildo was visible resting against the locked labia rings.

Her wrists were cuffed and fastened together with a long chain that ran through a ring in the belt that tightly cinched her waist. This kept her bound but allowed enough freedom with her hands to allow her to perform her duties.

She wore black leather pumps with tall high heels that had been strapped around her ankles. Just above the straps of the shoes were ankle hobbles with a very long chain. The chain ran from one ankle through the hasp of the bicycle lock holding her labia rings and back down to her other ankle. This was a clever arrangement that kept the long chain from tripping her, but ensured that, if she inadvertently took too long a step, she would yank on the rings through her labia.

On her head was a little lace cap and in her mouth was a very large ball gag. Since she obviously couldn't speak I wondered how the poor woman would be able to communicate our drink orders.

When she reached us she sank down to her knees with practiced ease and handed both Pete and me a drink menu and a pen. Clever system. We ticked the drinks we wanted on the menu, wrote our name and club card number at the bottom and returned the menus and the pens to the waitress. She rose to her feet with an ease that spoke of long practice and moved off to fetch our drinks. We had no way of telling if she was an employee or a slave forced into serving drinks, but given the rings and the uncomfortable restraints, I would have bet on the latter.

Bill pointed out a couple sitting a few seats away from us. The man was broad shouldered and had dark hair. He was wearing a conservative suit but had a riding crop on the table next to him. Kneeling at his side was a lovely woman whose nipples had been ringed and whose labia had been pierced, ringed and locked in a manner similar to the waitress. This was visible because the woman was kneeling with her knees spread. Her breasts bore stripes from a recent whipping and her leash was tied to the floor ring. Over her shoulders we saw the straps of a single sleeve arm binder similar to the one Cathy was wearing. From where we were sitting I couldn't see the slave's feet so I couldn't tell how, or even if, they were bound.

None of this bondage was particularly remarkable, although I thought the number of rings in the labia was unusual. What was strange was the woman's gag. The gag had a broad and stiff flat piece of leather that covered her face from nose to chin and wrapped around her mouth to her cheeks on each side. There were six metal rivets, three on each side of the leather piece. I couldn't see what was actually in her mouth, but the way her cheeks bulged around the sides of the leather it was clear that her mouth was well stuffed. Straps from the lower pair of rivets ran down to a strap that was tightly buckled around her neck. From the middle pair of rivets another strap ran around to the rear of her head. From the upper pair of rivets two straps ran upward and joined just above her nose where they merged into a single strap than ran over her head and fastened to the middle and neck straps in the rear. The entire affair was secured with a padlock.

Next to the man was a gorgeous woman in a rather elegant cocktail dress. If the man was Nicholas, this had to be Victoria. She also had very pretty slave kneeling at her side.

This slave was gagged with the unusual, at least to us, leather six-rivet gag and was very tightly bound in what appeared to be a black leather straight jacket. The jacket covered her breasts so I couldn't see her breasts to know if they had been ringed. The bottom strap, or actually straps in this case, came from the front of the jacket and passed on either side of the slave's pussy. This not only served the normal function of keeping the wearer from slipping the jacket up her body and over her head, it also pressed on the sides of her pussy forcing it into greater prominence. We could see the four labia rings and the bicycle lock quite clearly.

Bill went over and spoke with the couple for a few minutes. We could see them glancing in our direction. Bill came back and said, "OK, I have told them who you are and that I didn't want to sell to Pete because of his too-forceful lifestyle. They told me again that I really shouldn't be in the business with my scruples and said that you could come over and talk to them in a little while."

"Give them a few minutes, say until after they have finished their drinks. They don't want it to look as though there is too much traffic towards them. It might attract more attention than they want. I'm going to get a cab and get back to Dianne's. You know where to reach me, but unless they can't help you please don't bother. I wish I'd never run into either of you."

This was said looking at Pete and me. Then he did a strange thing. He turned his head to look down at Cathy and gently stroked her cheek as he said, "You keep me in mind sweetheart. If I can ever be of service, I will be glad to help."

On stage two masters were leading two very attractive slave girls, gagged with the same type of gags as Nicholas' and Victoria's slaves, to a table. Their hands were cuffed behind them but their bare feet appeared to be free. Each of the slave girls had ringed nipples and the four labia rings and bicycle lock that we'd seen on the waitresses and on Nicholas' and Victoria's slaves.

One of the women was fighting the leash and refusing to move. Her master solved this by holding her arm with one hand and unsnapping the leash from her collar with the other. He refastened the lease to one of her nipple rings. Then he resumed pulling her forward by the leash. She resisted for a second or so as her breast and nipple were stretched painfully but in the end, as the pain overcame her reluctance, she followed where she was led.

The two slaves were made to kneel on the table that had a set of stocks with four holes fastened at one end. The stocks were opened and the slaves' ankles were pulled back into the semicircular cutouts. The top was lowered and padlocked in place.

With the slaves held in place by the stocks, the masters went to work on repositioning the slave girls' hands. They worked with one girl at a time so that there were two masters to control each woman's arms. Each pair of hands was fastened together and to one end of a suspended spreader bar by a padlock.

The spreader bar was raised until it hung well in front of the slaves. With their arms lifted and pulled forward by the spreader bar and their ankles pulled back and up off the surface of the table by the stocks, the women were tilted forward to sort of hang from the spreader bar.

Then the masters began to whip the slaves. One man used a riding crop on the soles of their exposed feet while the other used what appeared to be a heavy tawse on their breasts. With four breasts and four feet available there was plenty of flesh to whip and the men moved slowly and methodically from one target to another. The women were obviously in pain but their gags prevented them from screaming as they were beaten. Their flesh grew red and seemed to swell though it happened slowly and over a period of time so that it was hard to judge.

The men paused and each drank a beer. Then they exchanged instruments and resumed the whipping. The man with the riding crop attacked the slaves' buttocks while the man in front with the tawse now went after the slave's bellies.

The waitress had come back and delivered our drinks. Of course with Cathy still gagged, she had nothing.

Surprise Meeting

While we were watching the torment of the two heavily gagged slaves and waiting for Nicholas and Victoria to finish their drinks, a familiar voice said, "Well hello there. It is so nice to see you again."

Pete and I turned to find Linda Wilkinson, the liberal protest organizer and Cathy's friend. She smiled down at us and continued, "I knew you were hiding something when we met in Washington but I didn't think you were into the S&M scene. This is so amazing. I had no idea Cathy was a submissive. It would be delicious to make her serve me, a woman who she thought was her friend, her equal. Is she for sale?"

Cathy was blushing in embarrassment as her former mentor discussed purchasing her as a slave.

"Hello Linda," I said, "I'm surprised to see you here. I had no idea you were a Dom. What brings you to the west coast?"

"Why slave trading, of course. I am looking for a new slave to serve me at my Virginia estate. Cathy would be so humiliated to be forced to serve me. It would be ideal and I could make you a very attractive offer, Mike."

"Thanks Linda, but she really isn't for sale. I'm having too much fun with turning little miss coed into a slave and, as you know, I don't need the money. In fact we are here on the same sort of business. Pete wants to acquire a slave. I don't suppose you would be interested would you?"

Linda gave me a nasty look and then recovered her composure, "Well I might not mind being under Pete for a night again, but I really don't swing as a slave. If you are interested in purchasing another slave you should talk to Nicholas and Victoria. They are right over there." She said this while waving her arm in the direction of the couple.

Linda said her goodbyes and with a last shot said, "Mike, you must let me know if you ever change your mind. I can think of so many fun things I could do with Cathy."

Pete and I looked at each other. We didn't say a word as we watched Linda walk over to Nicholas and Victoria. She chatted with them as though they were old friends. We could see her gesture in our direction, probably telling them that we were potential purchasers.

On stage the two masters had run down and abandoned the two slave women who were still twisting in pain. Their flesh on both their asses and their bellies was bright red, while their breasts and the soles of their feet were a darker more purple color. There had been no introduction or explanation so we didn't know if the whipping was a punishment for some transgression, real or imagined, or if it was just a fun way for the masters to spend an evening.

On another part of the stage a man was lacing a slave into a single glove similar to the one Cathy wore. She wore a ball gag and her feet were spread and shackled to the floor. When he was done he hoisted her arms behind her until her torso was parallel to the floor. Then he fastened a rope around the base of her right breast. After it had been tied off he looped the other end tightly around her left breast. From the cord hanging free between her breasts he hung a bucket. Then he braided a rope into her hair and pulled it back to the ring on her arm sleeve. When he was satisfied that she had to look directly ahead he looped a hose through a ceiling ring and pulled it down to just about her eye level. He cracked the hose nozzle so that it let out a drop of water every few seconds. The drops fell into the bucket and as it filled it became a heavier and heavier weight tugging on her breasts. She was unable to do anything but watch the drops, slowly but inexorably drip from the hose and add their weight to the bucket.

None of these torments were of particular interest to me. Aside from the beauty of the slaves it seemed to me that there was nothing particularly erotic about what was happening. Still, having in mind my little speech to Cathy about different pain level thresholds and different stroke for different folks, I tried not to be overly judgmental. Success of the job depended on our appearing as if we were enjoying the show and it was just barely possible that the slaves enjoyed this sort of treatment. After all, we were flabbergasted when the slave being sold by Bill turned out to want to be a full-time slave. Still it didn't look like any of these women were getting off on what was being done to them.

I decided enough time had passed and walked over to meet Nicholas and Victoria. Leaving Pete behind to keep an eye on Cathy I walked up and introduced myself to them. I explained that Pete wanted to purchase a slave for when he was on the coast but that she would be stabled and run by me when Pete was back in the east. There were no questions such as Bill had asked - just an appraising look.

They both listened attentively but Nicholas was the one who responded, "As you can understand, I have to be cautious with selecting my customers. I know Bill vouched for you but I would prefer to check out your references myself. I am sure you can understand my caution. Also I would want to deal with all of the principals involved but in as much privacy as possible. Could you and he return tomorrow night, say around 7 PM?"

"I understand completely. Caution is called for. The three of us could be back here tomorrow evening."

"No! I don't want anyone in the room but principals. That way we are all equally implicated. Leave your slave in her dungeon."

"OK, that can be arranged. Nice to meet you and I am looking forward to doing business with you tomorrow night."

I went back to my seat and told Pete, with Cathy listening, what had transpired. I suggested we finish our drinks so that we didn't look too obvious, and then return home.

We were sipping our drinks when Jerry came by and asked if everything was all right as though he was the proprietor of just another ordinary bar. I assured him that it was and asked how we should settle the bill. He said to just give the waitress our real credit card and she would bring us the chit for signature. He made some sort of signal and the waitress hurried over as rapidly as she could while avoiding exceeding the slack in her hobbles.

While this was going on a mistress was whipping her slave girl. She tied the slave face up on a bench, fastened her ankles to a spreader bar and then hoisted her feet so that they were pointing at the ceiling. I was reminded of the same position that Bill had used with the hanging vibrator. This was not to be a sexual tease however, but a nasty beating. The mistress used a multi-tailed whip that had weights in the tips of the tails to lend force to their impact. She began by whipping the slave girl's thighs near her knees. This slave hadn't been gagged so we could hear her pleading and begging her mistress for mercy between groans as the whip impacted. Gradually she worked her way down the soft flesh of her inner thighs, alternating from leg to leg.

This took some time and we had signed the chit for the drinks and I was just unsnapping Cathy's leash from the floor ring when the mistress switched from the thighs to the slave's pussy. She seemed to strike even harder and the moans and pleas disappeared as the slave howled in pain. I didn't count the strokes but it must have been fifteen or twenty before the mistress stopped. The slave's screams died away to be replaced by deep sobs.

The Meeting

On the way home Pete and I discussed Linda's sudden appearance in an S&M club on the west coast. Neither of us liked the coincidence. While it was possible she was on a buying trip it was strange that she had found the same slave traders that we were seeking. I'd removed Cathy's single sleeve arm binder to allow her to get dressed but had left the ball gag locked in place. She grunted indignantly but I told her that I liked how she looked. I think I may have threatened to keep her gagged permanently but, of course, I had no intention of doing so.

As soon as we got home, Cathy made a beeline for the bathroom still in her ankle hobbles and ball gag. I guess that was what she was trying to tell me with all those grunts in the car. Oh well, a little discomfort builds character in slaves.

When she finished she came out nude except for the hobbles and the ball gag. I decided she must be pretty thirsty by now so I unlocked and removed the ball gag. While she was massaging her jaw back into shape I went to the kitchen and got three beers for Cathy, Pete and me.

When I got back I distributed the drinks and sat on the couch pulling Cathy down on my lap. "Master, may I..." she began.

"Of course Cathy," I interrupted. "I told you long ago I didn't want to lose the benefit of your thoughts and that sharp mind of yours."

"Well sir, I think you and Pete are right. There is something funny about Linda showing up here. I never had any idea she was into this sort of stuff, and I thought we'd been pretty close."

"Well you didn't think she wanted to go to bed with Pete back in DC; perhaps you don't know her as well as you thought you did."

"I guess you're right sir. Hey, what was that little miss coed business?"

"Stage craft, pure stage craft. To be convincing in that setting I had to be dismissive of who and what you are."

"Well OK, but seriously, I think you should keep your eye on her, sir. She is very bright and this whole so-called coincidence smells fishy to me. Did you see what had been done to that waitress? Master, it made my breasts ache just to look at her."

Cathy had a very sharp mind and could leap from topic to topic with confusing speed. Evidently we were done with the topic of Linda and into the things we'd seen. I answered, "I agree but at least the waitress looked sexy. Did you see the beating those two slaves got?"

Pete chimed in, "And if you talk about aching breasts, how about the girl with the water bucket? The worst was that last girl, though, and she wasn't even gagged. It made my blood run cold to hear her screams."

Cathy jumped in saying, "Hey, gags. I've been trying to sort out the similarities and the differences in the bondage but I didn't think of that before."


"Did you see the gags that those two women wore? Have you ever run across anything like them while you were surfing the net?"

"No, I don't think I ever did. But that doesn't mean anything; they may be from a supplier whose website we didn't happen to see."

"Yes but they are pretty unique and Nicholas' and Victoria's slaves wore that same kind," Cathy continued.

"Yes but not the girl with the water bucket and not the last girl, who had no gag at all."

"OK, working hypothesis," Cathy was thinking out loud, "the waitresses are all slaves of the club. I don't think you could pay someone to work all night in that rig. At some point they were purchased, probably from Nicholas and Victoria who seem to like to ring and lock their slave's labia as sort of a signature accessory. But they didn't have the same gags, so we assume that they aren't still owned by `Nic and Vic'."

"The first two women who were whipped did have those strange gags so they were probably still owned by the slavers. The other girls were slaves to their individual owners."

"Not a bad theory, but even if it is true, what does it tell us?"

"Well it might confirm what Bill told us. That the club is owned by Jerry and not actually connected to `Nick and Vic'. He bought the waitresses from them. We assume that from the labia rings and bicycle locks. At the same time, since they were his now, he had to supply his own gags and opted for a more available, and probably cheaper model."

"It might also tell us that the two masters whipping the first two women were employees or partners to the slavers, not visitors. With Dianne and Bill, they and the other guy were pretty much the entire organization, plus a couple of barmaids, at least as far as we know. The barmaids are probably 24/7 slaves but voluntary ones," Cathy said.

"I get it. You're saying that with a training facility somewhere, plus the four at the club, we are looking at a substantially larger organization that the mom and pop deal of Dianne and Bill."

Cathy responded, "Yes. We can't be certain, of course, but if it is substantially larger you and Pete can't go charging in as you did at Bill's. You guys are the tough guys but I think you are going to have to look and observe carefully and come up with a better plan than pulling a pistol on Nicholas."

Pete and I exchanged looks. Cathy was right, we couldn't know for certain what was there and this called for some reconnaissance and adjustment of plans. I looked at her and said, "I wanted to leave you behind but I'm damn sure glad you and that sharp mind of yours are here with us now."

Cathy beamed but all she said as she snuggled up to me was, "Yes master."

Cathy had been kneeling in one position for a long time this evening so I decided to give her a break on the bondage but I did leave her ankle hobbles on as we went to bed. She looked at me and said, "Have I done something to anger you master?"

I knew at once what she meant and what she wanted, so I rolled out of bed and got some cuffs and some rope. I cuffed her wrists to her ankles and removed the hobble chain between her ankles. I put her face down on the bed and spread her wrists and knees to either side of the bed with the ropes. Simple but elegant, her lovely oh-so-spankable ass was up in the air. Her widespread legs provided ample access to her pussy and by reaching either between her legs or around her thighs I could enjoy her lovely breasts.

I began caressing and squeezing her ass cheeks and lightly teasing her labia from the rear. It took no time at all to arouse her as evidenced by her outer labia growing red and engorged as they spread to reveal her inner lips. She was moaning and I took my hands away. "Oh god," she said, "don't stop now."

Perfect. Now I had an excuse, even if it was a pretty feeble one. In my best imitation of a sneering master's voice I said, "Don't stop? Don't Stop? Is my little slave girl giving her master orders?"

Now I knew she wasn't trying to order me around but in her arousal her begging, which is what it really was, just might be misconstrued as an order. I swatted her buns as I uttered each word. Since my last sentence had nine words I wound up with one cheek short a swat. I decided that I couldn't be bound by petty rules and swatted her buttock anyhow. Perhaps it was an exclamation point.

Seven swats to each buttock didn't seem to be enough so I made it an even twenty, twenty to each side. By that time she was moving nicely through pink and on towards a rosy red. I held her hips to steady her as I slid into her from the rear. She was hot, wet, and willing. I began to thrust in deeply building up in speed while I took my hands from her hips and reached around for her nipples. They were damn near rock hard and as I toyed with them Cathy accelerated her thrusts back at me. I felt myself near ejaculation and slipped one hand back to roll her clit between my fingers. She came with a long moan perhaps a second before me. Her clenching pussy muscles milked me dry.

I debated leaving her tied in that position for the night but it looked too awkward. I untied the ropes and unclipped her wrists and ankles. Then I clipped her wrists together and tied them to the headboard and clipped her ankles together and tied them to the footboard. I didn't stretch her too tightly as I was going to leave her there all night but I rolled her onto her back to further torment that lovely, well-spanked ass. Inspired by her beauty I got out of bed and fetched the ball gag. It took just a few seconds to gag her and buckle it around her head.

I looked at my bound and gagged slave girl and decided that her perfect body deserved my ministrations. I began with sucking and licking her nipples until she was twisting on the bed and moaning as best as she could through the gag. I slid my hand down to her mound and teased the inside of her sweet pussy while lightly flicking my thumb back and forth across her clit.

I waited until I judged that she was just about to come and rolled over onto my back and turned out the light. There was a great deal of humming and moaning behind the gag. She managed to bang her hip against mine so I slid an inch or so further away. The moans grew louder and she began to bounce her hips up and down on the bed despite the condition of her recently paddled buns.

Smiling I turned the lights back on and rolled back over her. I began using my fingers to increase her arousal again. I looked in her eyes and said, "Slave girls don't get to decide when they come. That's the master's prerogative. And protesting slave girls have to be punished. If you keep me awake I think I will give you to Dianne to punish while Pete and I go off to negotiate."

Cathy's eyes opened wide and despite her arousal, her body went rigid. I gave her clit one more little caress and rolled back over and turned out the light. Cathy, who at that moment was a very sexually frustrated slave, didn't move. I smiled to myself and drifted off to sleep.

The Next Day

The next morning I rolled over and couldn't resist tickling Cathy awake. She glared at me with a look that wasn't at all submissive so I decided to have some fun. I went to work with my mouth and fingers until she was on the verge of an orgasm. Then I rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom. I urinated and shaved but didn't shower just then.

Back into the bedroom and onto the bed to work my slave girl up to peak arousal again. This time I let her feet loose and lifted her knees to my shoulders. I plunged into her and she came almost at once. Then I began pumping in and out of her in a very slow rhythm as I used my mouth on her ears, her neck and her breasts. Cathy lifted her hips to meet me thrust for thrust and we gradually picked up the pace. I knew I couldn't hold out much longer and she'd already had one orgasm so I used my hand to stimulate her clit. I still came before she did, but kept my hand working on her clit until she went over the edge the second time.

Then I unfastened the ball gag, gently worked it out of her mouth and said, in a cheery voice, "Good morning Cathy dear. Did you sleep well?"

"No, dear master. I had a little trouble falling asleep for some reason. I did enjoy the waking up, though."

I released her hands and we went back to the bathroom together. After she used the toilet we showered together. I found it very erotic to wash and be washed by her. Of course it gave us ample excuse to grope each other and certain body parts seemed to get more than their fair share of soaping and rubbing. For some reason I found it particularly sensual to lather her head and run my soapy hands through her hair. In any case we spent quite a bit of time in the shower that morning including an interlude of doggy-style sex.

Most of the day was spent on the telephone trying to explain to the Major why we still had the government's $1.5 million and no slaver in custody. I tried to stick close to the truth without breaking our word to Bill and his partners. Pete and Cathy listened in to my side of the conversation and occasionally Cathy would pass me suggestions via little notes.

Essentially I told the Major, without using names, that the contact we had been dealing with was not the slaver we were after. Not knowing how much the Major would understand about voluntary slavery as a lifestyle I made our contact sound more like a pimp who was trying to work a scam with one of his girls pretending to be sold. The Major could grasp that concept but wanted us to turn the contact over to the local police. It took some effort to convince him that the `pimp' had information and was willing to trade it for his freedom. Eventually the Major was willing to go with our judgment.

I did tell him about the suspicious encounter Cathy and I (not mentioning Pete, of course) had with Linda Wilkinson. He promised to look into the woman, discretely, from his end.

It was easier to tell Tom what was happening, of course. For one thing the concept of voluntary slavery wasn't foreign to him. For another he knew how we were using Pete as the prospective purchaser. When I had fully briefed him he agreed with Cathy`s assessment and cautioned us to move slowly.

Pete and I loaded our weapons and put the rest of our gear into the trunk of the car. I gave Cathy a kiss and she warned us again against being rash.

We got out to the club about six-thirty and went through the entry procedures with Jerry. We sat down and a waitress in the same uncomfortable get up as before showed up for drink orders. We didn't see Nicholas and Victoria anywhere so we settled back to slowly sip our drinks and to see what was happening on the stage.

One mistress had put her male slave into a variation of the water bucket torture we had seen last time. He was tied on the floor with both hands over his head tied to a ring in the floor and both legs tied to a second ring. A noose had been passed around his scrotum and over a pulley in the ceiling and back down to a bucket which hung over his chest. His head was propped up on a slanted block and his eyelids taped open so that he had to watch the water dripping into and slowly filling the bucket. Of course as the bucket filled his testicles were pulled harder and harder towards the ceiling.

Another slave, a female was lashed to a post on the stage. A rope ran around her waist, down through her buttocks, up through her pussy lips and through a pulley in the ceiling. The end of the rope had been fastened to her right leg which was pulled up over her head. The slave was on tiptoe on the other leg. The idea was simple. As her muscles became tired and cramped the upper leg would come down pulling the crotch rope harder and harder up into the slave's pussy, forcing her to torture herself. As if this wasn't enough her arms were pulled up and out with ropes that ran through another set of pulleys and then back to clover clamps on the slave's nipples. As her arms weakened and came down she would tighten the nipple clamps more and more.

Both of these slaves were gagged but neither with the fancy six rivet gag we'd come to associate with Nicholas and Victoria. There were one or two other couples in the club but it was early yet and the two on stage were the only ones being tortured at the moment.

Around seven-fifteen we finished our drinks. Still no sign of Nicholas or Victoria. We decided to give it another fifteen minutes or so. Jerry strolled by and we asked if he had seen either Nicholas or Victoria. He said he hadn't seen them all night. When we told him that we had an appointment to meet with them at seven he shrugged and said that he had no idea of where they might be. Then he asked, "Did Linda catch up with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"She said she wanted to contact you but had lost your address. Well we don't normally give out that sort of confidential client information. In her case I knew that she seemed to be friendly with both of you last night and I know she works with Nicholas and Victoria. I knew from what Bill had said you wanted to try to do some business with them. In the end she asked so convincingly that I let her look at the copy of your driver's license that we keep on file here. I thought she was going to contact you. Perhaps she wanted to change the meeting time."

This was new input. Linda wasn't here on a buying trip she worked with the people we suspected of being the slavers. Further she now knew where we lived, and Cathy was all alone at home. We told Jerry it was OK and asked him to tell Nicholas and Victoria that we had been here and would contact them later if they showed up. We settled our bill and left.

We were both thinking the same. Linda might try to do something to Cathy. Of course Cathy had some combat training and ought to be able to handle Linda but I still felt a sense of foreboding. Why had Linda wanted our address, and why hadn't there been an attempt to contact us?

"Drive carefully," Pete said, "the last thing we need is to be pulled over on a traffic stop while we have guns in the car." It was good advice but I had trouble following it.

Cathy's Missing

When we got home our worst fears were realized. The front door was closed but Cathy was missing. The jeans, top and underwear she had been wearing were in shreds on the floor where they had fallen as they were cut off of her body. There were signs of a fierce struggle. A coffee table in the living room and a dining room chair had been tipped over on their sides and one of the end tables next to the couch had been overturned and the lamp that had been on it was lying on the floor.

"It had to be Linda," Said Pete. "Cathy knew her well enough to let her into the house which she would never do with strangers."

"You saw how she was drooling over having Cathy as a slave last night."

"Yeah but she had to have help. Look at the mess. Probably Nicholas and Victoria came along saying that they thought the meeting was to be here."

"Cathy wouldn't have known about Jerry giving Linda the address and might have thought that they had gotten it from me and that there was some sort of mix-up about the location of the meeting."

"That's probably why they didn't show up tonight. I bet they've gone to ground somewhere."

"What I don't get is why they would change their method of operations and risk a kidnapping here in the states. They were getting away with it in Eastern Europe but they can't think they can get away with it here."

"Perhaps Linda is more than working for them. She was the one that wanted Cathy. Perhaps she is the boss of the operation. Or perhaps she just offered a lot of money for this one particular slave."

"And why wouldn't they get away with it? As far as they know we are a couple of businessmen who don't want to expose our lifestyle. If I go to the cops and stay within my cover story it will be just another adult girlfriend who dumped her adult boyfriend. There is no evidence of a crime. Cathy could have shred her clothes in some fit of anger."

"That makes sense but even if Linda isn't the big boss our next move has to be to find them. Let's go back and see how good old Jerry's records are for Nicholas and Victoria."

We piled into the car and headed up to the club. When we got there Jerry was reluctant but after a few minutes of `vigorous physical interrogation' he was sufficiently intimidated to fish out the records for our suspects. Linda's showed an east coast address which didn't seem like the most obvious location. Nicholas and Victoria shared a house on the peninsula but the location seemed much too urban for slave training. Even Bill's place had been remote and hidden.

We decided to take good old Jerry with us to ensure that he didn't call ahead to warn anyone that we were on the way. He protested mightily but not for very long. We did allow him to bring down one of his waitresses to mind the door. When he fished out the key to her ball gag we saw a nice supply of handcuffs. I grabbed two pairs of cuffs.

We took him to the car cuffed his hands behind him and his ankles together. I showed him my pistol and told him that if was a good boy he could ride up front but if he tried anything it would be the end for him. He sat in front while I slipped in behind him. We continued to question him as we headed for the house on the peninsula. Jerry insisted that while he had purchased slaves from Nicholas and Victoria, and enjoyed their patronage at his club, he had no other business dealings with them.

The Hunt

When we got to the house it appeared dark and deserted. Pete kept an eye on Jerry while I checked out the exterior. There were no signs of an alarm, no stickers in the windows, no little magnetic switches visible on the rear of windows or doors. That made sense. If there was evidence of the slave trade in the house, `Nic and Vic' wouldn't want some rent-a-cop showing up if a neighborhood kid put a baseball through a window while they weren't around.

I decided that if we were going to rescue Cathy we were going to have to take some risks. I cut the telephone line and returned to the car. We drove away slowly and circled around several nearby blocks, always returning to check for activity around the front of the building. After 15 minutes of quiet I decided that either their alarm company was totally incompetent or, more likely, that there was no alarm.

We parked on the street a few doors away from the house and uncuffed Jerry's ankles. With Pete on one side and me on the other and Jerry securely handcuffed between us we walked around to the rear door. It never ceases to amaze me how people will invest in dead bolt locks in front and then ignore the kitchen door. `Nic and Vic' had been smart enough to invest in a dead bolt lock in the rear but not smart enough to strengthen the door itself. It took two not particularly noisy kicks to open the door with the dead bolt still locked to a portion of the now broken door frame. We paused to listen and see if anyone in the neighborhood turned on lights or looked out to see what the noise had been. I guess break-ins were rare in this upscale neighborhood because no one seemed to react.

The three of us slipped into the house and closed all of the drapes and blinds. Then we turned on the lights. A quick check of the ground and upper floors revealed a very ordinary suburban house. There were some bondage toys in the master bedroom and the walk-in closets were filled with expensive suits and very expensive designer label woman's suits and gowns but nothing that would really arouse suspicion. There was a home office in a den on the first floor that would bear some investigation.

It was in the cellar that things took an interesting turn. There were a number of hooks imbedded into the concrete walls and screwed into the overhead joists. In one corner was a cell. We pushed Jerry into it, leaving his hands cuffed behind him. He began to protest his treatment so we hunted around the basement and found a largish penis gag which we fastened into his mouth. With Jerry quiet we secured the cell door and went upstairs for a better look at the office.

There were no obvious slave trade records in evidence, at least none that we could see. It looked pretty much like an ordinary home office. They had bank statements with transfers into the account but no indication of the source account. Perhaps the Major's people could do something with these but they didn't help us find Cathy. The expenditures all seemed ordinary as I flipped through the check register until I came to real estate tax payments. There were payments to two different county treasurers. One was obviously the house we were in but the other was a county well north of the Golden Gate, past Napa and Sonoma and all of the tourist populated areas. This was a property up in the rugged and sparsely populated area around the old lumbering town of Willits.

Since `Nic and Vic' didn't seem like wilderness campers this was a promising lead. The only other thing of interest was the telephone bills that seemed to have a large number of long distance calls. We stuffed the check registers, bank statements and telephone bills into a flight bag. Pete continued to search the file drawer in the desk and eventually came across the tax bills. Great, this showed the book and page in the county record with a map of the property and identified which parcel it was on that map. With a little work at the County's public records we knew we could find the place.

Before leaving we had to deal with Jerry. We went back down to the cell and stripped him as the easiest way to ensure he didn't have a key hidden in his clothes. We cuffed one hand to the cell bars and brought him a supply of bottled water and two nearly new loaves of bread from the kitchen. I told him that he was the one that had given out our address so he was not on our favorite persons' list. With one free hand and the other cuffed to the bars it would probably take a while to get the gag out and after that he could sit in the cell with his bread and water and hope that we were successful and came back before he starved.

Observing the Enemy

We made a quick stop back at the house to shave and change so that we would not look out of place at the county office. We also made certain that all of our equipment had fresh batteries. We added our BDUs and extra ammunition and were ready to head north.

It took almost an hour to get up to and through the city. Fortunately it was just 2 AM or so when we started out and the traffic was almost nonexistent. Once across the Golden Gate Bridge the route was straight up US 101 through Santa Rosa, Healdsburg and Ukiah. All in all, it was about 150 miles north of the Golden Gate to Willits. The highway was well paved and marked but mainly two lanes with traffic restrictions in each little town we passed through. We drove in shifts with the other man sleeping (experienced troops can sleep anywhere and under any conditions - it is an acquired skill born of necessity) and used take out from 24-hour fast food joints to keep our bellies full.

Of course we lost some time waiting for the government offices to open but locating the proper offices and finding the plat or map books went surprisingly quickly. In answer to inquiries we said we wanted to go camping in the area and wanted the copies of the maps to enable us to avoid trespassing on private property. After some red tape and payment of a small fee and we had the maps we wanted. We actually got several partly to let us explore ways in from the surrounding area and partly to make certain that no one could identify our interest in a particular property.

Once we had the maps it was off to another fast food joint for Eggs McMuffin and a quick review of the maps. By the time we had finished breakfast and used the facilities, both for our bodily needs and to change into the BDUs it was nearly 10 AM. We took cheeseburgers and fries to go into the car for a meal later and went to work.

The property we were after was vast. Fortunately the area was crisscrossed with old abandoned lumber roads. These were pretty much just dirt tracks and it took some time to navigate them with our non-four-wheel-drive sedan. We found a place to get the car off the track and fairly well-hidden from casual observation. This may have been excess caution as we hadn't seen anyone since we'd turned off onto the dirt tracks but better safe than sorry.

Pete and I loaded up with pistols, extra clips, radios, field glasses and K-bars. Since it was early morning we left the night vision stuff in the trunk. We made our way onto the property moving slowly and looking for trip wires or other alarms. I spotted the alarm first and pointed it out to Pete.

They were using an infrared beam with a sender about 4 & 1/2 feet or 5 feet up on one tree and receiver at more or less the same height on another tree about six feet away. These weren't sophisticated devices. They were the sort of thing that you could use on a garage door to ensure it didn't crush anyone or anything when it closed. Still they were small and hard to spot. If they had set these on the ground they would have been practically invisible and we would probably set off whatever alarm system they had wired to them.

Fortunately the woods were pretty wild and home to numerous critters including small mule deer. I guessed that they'd had so many false alarms from animals crossing the beams that they'd decided to raise the boxes into the trees. Whatever their reasoning it was good luck for us. Once we understood what their system was it was fairly easy to spot and we avoided the beams by simply moving in a squat under them.

Discovering this also made us move cautiously until we came to the next line of defense which was an electrified barbed wire fence. This was how they kept the mule deer and other critters out of their compound. There was a guard path about six or eight feet inside of this fence. Using sticks to spread the strands of wire we slipped through the fence and across the guard path into the underbrush on the interior side. We got ourselves well hidden in the underbrush and paused to darken our faces and hands with camouflage paint.

While we were doing this we saw a lone guard stroll by with what looked like a high powered hunting rifle held carelessly in one hand. It would have been easy to take him out or to capture and interrogate him but we didn't want anyone to miss him when he failed to complete his circuit, so we let him go by. The way he was carrying the rifle suggested that he was bored to tears and not really looking for intruders. Still if there was one perimeter guard there might be others and we would have to be mindful of them.

We kept moving forward towards where the buildings had been located on the map and came to a clearing in the underbrush about seventy yards from what appeared to be the main residence. To the rear (from our position, to the side from the front of the house) was a well maintained barn that would be ideal for holding pens. To the side (rear of the house) was a corral with one of those long armed poles that are used to walk horses around and around. Behind that was an oval track presumably for pony girl training. Directly in front of us was an open area with what appeared to be whipping posts and other torture (or at least torment) devices.

The punishment area and pony girl track were empty but the coral held eight women walking endlessly in circles pulled along by tethers from the rotating arms to the women's nipple rings. The slaves all wore the six-rivet gag, the nipple rings and the labia rings and bicycle lock we had come to associate with the slavers. The women appeared hot, sweaty and dusty. There was no sign of Cathy but Victoria and another man were in the corral making certain that the slaves lifted their knees high with each step. They applied whips whenever a slave failed to get her knee sufficiently high.

As we watched the guard we had seen came back to the building, apparently having completed his circuit. Good that meant that the patrols were periodic rather than continual.

As we watched Nicholas and another man came out of the main house pulling along a slave who was twisting and fighting them every step of the way. "That's one of the women they whipped at the club a couple of nights ago, the feisty one."

"It looks like she is still feisty. Let's see what's going on."

"Have you noticed that there are no dog runs visible? They could be housed in the barn but I don't see any feces on the ground. I would guess that they don't have dogs."

While we were talking they dragged the slave who was un-gagged and whose feet were unfettered to a ring in the ground. She had a tight leather belt around her middle and her arms were behind her. When they had her where they wanted her Nicholas held her while the other man applied a spreader bar between her knees. As she twisted and fought Nicholas we could see that she had a posture bar fastened to the rear of her collar, her waist belt and both of her wrist cuffs.

When the spreader bar was fastened they forced her to her knees, and brought both ankle cuffs to the ring in the ground. Then they unfastened the posture bar from her waist belt and pulled it and her wrists back to the same ring in the ground. As they pulled her arms back she tried, naturally to bend forward from the waist. Nicholas was having none of this and pushed her shoulders back until the other man could loop a padlock through the ring on the ground, the ankle cuffs and the ring in the posture bar where her wrists were fastened.

When they were done she formed a sort of a triangular pyramid. Her ankles to her spread knees were the base triangle while her knees to her collar and back down her arms and the posture bar to the ring formed the other sides. She could move her upper body very slightly from side to side but was basically held rigidly to the ground.

The man who had walked the guard round went with Nicholas' assistant into the barn and returned with a strange heavy looking table and motor device. They set the table in front of the woman and one man went about running an extension from the motor control back into the barn.

The device was strange. The motor faced across the front of the slave and the drive shaft went into a box of gears. At the far end of the gears there was a thicker shaft with holes set at right angles. Above the device was a heavy iron bar running parallel to the motor shaft but considerably higher. As we watched the master (for lack of a better word, sadist or torturer might be more descriptive) inserted long fiberglass rods that might have been fly fishing rods at one time, through the holes tightening set screws to hold them in place. It now looked as if the thicker shaft had four arms set at 90 degrees to each other.

When everything was ready the men walked over to the corral and Victoria turned off the rotating device. The men unhooked each of the eight women's nipples from the rotating device and snapped a short lead from their collars to a chain. Then they led the eight women over to where they could see the slave on the ground.

Then, around the corned of the house came Linda Wilkinson leading Cathy. Cathy was wearing a leather straight jacket that covered her upper torso. The bottom straps of the straight jacket went on either side of her pussy pushing it out and letting us see the ring just peeking out and the chain that Linda was using as a leash to lead Cathy. She wore a spreader bar at her knees that made her progress an awkward waddle. I felt Pete's hand on my shoulder and realized that I had almost jumped up.

"Easy Mike. She needs a successful rescue, not a half-cocked attempt. What the hell is that in her pussy?"

It's a clit ring," I replied. "They pierce the hood surrounding the clitoris right at the top. Then the weight of the ring and any chain attached to it constantly tugs at and rubs the upper side of the clit. It is supposed to keep the slave constantly aroused."

I was surprised that I was able to answer so calmly. Pete had done the right thing and gotten me back from angry lover to professional Marine planning how to best effect a rescue.

While I watched, Cathy (who wasn't gagged) was fastened in a similar position to the feisty slave. Her ankles were crossed forming a triangle with the wide spreader bar. Since she wasn't wearing a posture bar a length of chain from her collar to her ankles was used to pull her so that her body sloped backwards.

While we watched another man came out of the house to watch. He remained at the door, holding it open with his body so that he could hear if an alarm sounded inside. Nicholas said something to the feisty slave and switched on the motor. The fiberglass rod that had been touching her breast was dragged down but it didn't seem very painful. The next rod was caught in the iron bar at the top of the device. As we watched the shaft slowly continued to rotate bending the fiberglass rod further and further. It had almost been bent double and the base was pointing at the slave's breast when the tip was dragged out from under the cross bar.

Thwack the fiberglass straightened itself out whipping the top part onto the slave's right breast with considerable impact. A welt sprang up as the fiberglass rod was drawn down and off her breast. The shaft continued to rotate slowly and the next fiberglass cane, which was slightly further along the shaft and in line with her left breast began to bend against the top bar. In the space of a minute the woman was beaten four times. Right breast, left breast, right breast again, left breast again, and on and on.

The slave could see the rods bending but could do nothing to escape them. She was able to twist her upper body an inch or so in each direction but that simply distributed the strokes on her breasts. The machine never slowed down, never got tired, and never missed a stroke. It just continued to whip the poor woman's breasts. It took less than four minutes for the woman to begin screaming.

Some of the slaves tried to turn their heads or close their eyes but they received harsh strokes for their efforts. They were to witness what was both a punishment for the slave on the ground and an object lesson for them.

While the woman's screams were almost nonstop Pete and I conferred. There were three men in the yard with Nicholas: the one who had walked guard, the one who had been helping Victoria in the corral and the one that had helped Nicholas carry the machine out to whip the woman. Add Nicholas himself and the one monitoring the alarm at the door to the house and that made a total of five men. To this we had to add the two women, Victoria and Linda. They might or might not have fighting skills but they were obviously skilled slave handlers and it didn't take much strength to handle a weapon. OK, seven in all.

I was about to suggest to Pete that we go to test the emergency response procedures when Linda decided to have some more `fun'. She unhitched the first of the eight sweaty slaves from the coffle, removed the bicycle lock from her labia rings and led her over to Cathy. With prodding from a riding crop the slave moved her legs over Cathy's shoulders and settled her ringed but no longer locked pussy against Cathy's mouth. When Cathy didn't start eating the slave rapidly enough to amuse Linda she gave a sharp yank on the chain connected to Cathy's clit ring. We could see Cathy's jaws move and she began to lick the slave.

After the first slave orgasm against Cathy's mouth she was returned to the coffle and her labia rings again locked. The next slave in line was then brought over and Cathy was made to get busy again. It was clear that Linda intended to work through the entire coffle of dirty sweaty slaves, probably just to humiliate Cathy.

All the time there was the thwack, thwack, thwack of the rods beating the slave's breasts and her screams of pain and anger. I told Pete to head back to the infrared line and find a way of setting off the alarms that would look like it was caused by nature while I stayed to see what the response would be.

About ten minutes later I heard an alarm from inside the house. The man at the door jumped back in, apparently to check which sector had caused the alarm. He ran back out in a moment carrying a second hunting rifle. He and the first guard took off running for the sector that had been set off. The other two men grabbed the coffle with the eight women (seven given that one was riding Cathy's mouth) pulled the last woman off of Cathy, attached her to the coffle and, without bothering to attach her labia lock, trotted them towards the barn.

Nicholas turned off the whipping machine, unfastened the posture bar and the slave's ankles and pulled her to her feet. She was almost unconscious with the pain in her breasts but he used the posture bar as a lever to run her towards the house. Linda freed the chain from Cathy's ankles and pulled Cathy up by her hair. Victoria and Linda then pulled Cathy along into the house.

Not too bad. The violated sector was met by two men with rifles who could have been hunting on the estate with permission. Two rifles were probably enough to control any trespassers but not so much force that it would cause comment. At the same time the house and yard looked pretty much normal. The pony girl track and corral could have been for horses. The motor device, whipping post and rings set into the ground were strange but not obvious and could probably be assigned some innocent farm function.

I waited for about 15 minutes and saw the two men with rifles return to the house. Their posture and the loose way that they handled the rifles indicated that they thought it had been a false alarm. Soon after they disappeared into the house Pete returned. He'd detoured to our car and was carrying the cold fast food bags and two bottles of water. He handed me one of each and we slid back deeper into the underbrush to fuel up and review the situation.

Pete told me he had found a dead branch and set it against a tree as though it had just fallen. Then he tripped the alarm and hid. The two men had come straight down the path with rifles at the ready looking at both sides of the path but ignoring everything behind them. Good, they would be easy prey.

The problem we had was the plan of the attack. With Cathy and the other women held as hostages we didn't really want the people in the house to be alert. That argued for slipping into the house with all seven defenders inside. On the other hand if we pulled another `false alarm' we could take out two of the men and two hunting rifles (of course we didn't know what other arms might be in the house) reducing the enemy from seven to five.

We were considering attacking the seven at night when at least some of them would be asleep when we heard noise from the compound. We belly crawled back to our observation post in time to see a car emerge from the barn with three people in it. Nicholas was driving and it looked as though Linda and Victoria were in the rear. As the car sped off we looked at each other and decided that this was too good an opportunity to miss. There were only four guards left and we could probably take them two by two.