“I’ll forget what I’ve seen,” George begged, desperate now.
Lana laughed and clapped her hands and an entourage gathered around the pyre. “My friends, death to all heretics!” she shouted. Louis, the butler, came forward and handed her a flaming torch. “Goodbye, dear stupid George,” she said, touching the torch to the dry kindling below her helpless lover. In moments, a crackling blaze started with flames and smoke billowing up into the warm night air.
George’s last conscious vision, as he screamed and melted, was of mass sexual congress going on in front him, with Madame de Roch, naked now, being serviced by three masked nude men; one standing up, ramming his prick in and out of her mouth; one below her, on his back, his penis deep in her vagina as she rode up and down on it; and the third one, bucking away behind her, lodged deep in her anus. As she yelped to a stupendous climax, George’s ashes collapsed into the bonfire with a loud crash. A big cheer went up from the assembled fornicators and they chanted in unison...
“BURN...BURN... BURN THE HERETIC!”
A month later, a notice was posted in ‘Le Monde,’ the leading French newspaper. It was from George’s brother, Jabir, and it read:
‘MISSING PERSON: Anyone with knowledge of the whereabouts of my dear relative, M. George Râteau, formerly of Graz and Marseille, absent from his home for six weeks. He was last seen in Paris. Please contact me, via this newspaper, if you have any information. A substantial reward is offered for reliable information leading to his discovery.’
A year later, Jabir was at a soiree in Paris and he happened upon Madame de Lay. He said, “My brother George has been missing for such a long time. I know he held you in high regard. Have you perchance heard anything from him, a letter perhaps?”
Madame, ever the flawless actress, said, “No, monsieur, I’m afraid I haven’t. It’s strange that I haven’t had a letter, because George and I, well, we were, er...intimately acquainted. I’m trying to be delicate. I’m sure he told you about me, no?”
Jabir smiled and said, “He did, Madame and I know you were lovers. George cared for you a great deal and if you hadn’t already been married, I think he would’ve asked for your hand. That’s why I thought you might have...”
“Heard something?” Lana interjected.
Jabir nodded. “Yes, have you?”
Lana said, “I’m afraid not. Perhaps he went off me and decided to leave France, to recover his senses.”
“No man in his right mind could easily go off you, Madame,” Jabir said. “Your beauty and sensuality precede you wherever you go. I thought maybe you’d finished with George and he might have decided that well... suicide was his only option. Other men seem to have followed that option in regard of you.”
Lana acted shocked. “Monsieur, I cannot be held responsible for the actions of fixated men,” she said. “I would never finish with George so barbarously that he would want to kill himself. In fact, I’d go as far as to say he would be incapable of doing such a thing.”
“I thought not, Madame,” Jabir said, bowing his head. “My apology...Your character is a clearly a nurturing one.”
“Thank you, Monsieur, you’re most kind,” Lana said, leaning forward, affording Jabir a good look down her bodice. “I understand you’re anxiety regarding your dear brother. I’m as concerned as you are as to his wellbeing,” she lied. “Perhaps we can become friends. Do you perhaps share your brother’s passionate nature?”
Jabir smiled and handed her his card. “In some things, yes, I do,” he said.
“Ah! You’re an impresario, in the theatre,” she said. “You must get a lot of female attention; I bet you do, a handsome man like you?”
“When I choose,” Jabir said, flirting outrageously.
“I have a private place where... shall we say, ‘trysts’ can take place,” Lana told him.
“An address of assignations,” Jabir joked.
“Precisely,” Lana said. “Would you like to visit me, sometime soon?”
Jabir smiled and said: “I’m flattered Madame, but you’re a married woman, aren’t you?”
Lana beat her fan a little faster and explained: “My dear husband approves of my adventures. He’s old now and can’t give me physically what I crave; so he allows me to have discreet ‘amours,’ as long as no embarrassment is caused to him. Your beautiful brother, George, was one of my amours.”
Jabir smiled and took the little embossed card that Lana had given him. He scanned it and suggested: “Friday afternoon, if that’s acceptable, Madame? I can make three o’clock.”
“Excellent,” Lana said, “I’ll wear something seductive, monsieur. Something that will raise your temperature, I’m sure.”
Jabir laughed and said, “It’s already been raised, Madame.”
Lana led Jabir to the terrace. It was deserted. “Do you mind?” she asked, looking around before she quickly felt his prick though the crotch of his evening suit trousers. It was as stiff as a poker.
“Oh sir, you’re as well-endowed as your brother, it seems...” Lana observed, her dark eyes twinkling.
“Madame, this is a lewd situation... Have a care for your reputation.” Jabir said, with a bold smirk on his face.
“I’m just seeing if ‘stallions’ run in your family and it appears they do,” Lana said, saucily.
Jabir laughed and whispered, “May I visit you tomorrow, Madame, instead of Friday? I’m overwhelmed with the most extraordinary passion for you.”
Lana agreed. “Yes, tomorrow will be beautiful.”
“I want you, very much,” Jabir whispered.
Lana smiled, knowingly. “It’s mutual,” she said, then added, while lightly touching his sleeve. “Get a good night’s sleep, sir. You’ll need all your energy, tomorrow. I’m really rather demanding physically. You probably know that from your brother.”
“He did mention you were somewhat ardent in bed, but rest assured, Madame,” Jabir told her. “I’m sure I can fulfil your most erotic expectations. I like to think of myself as a man of the world.”
Lana smiled her most beguiling smile, the one she referred to as her ‘fishing smile.’ She knew her ‘net’ was closing in on yet another hapless victim.
The End
Lost Girl
Chapter 1
JD Fisher sat before the video monitor and watched. The trip to his island was a long one and they kept her sedated the whole trip. She would be slow to come out of it. She was in a plywood room that was barred on both ends. The only other things in the room were a bucket for her waste and a dog dish with water in it.
She was still lying down, but she was shifting restlessly and he could see her eyes open squint and then her arm came up to block out the light. He knew that when she wasn’t quite fully awake. Once she came to her senses, she could look out and see a field full of workers and the lagoon. He thought it was about time to go and introduce himself now before reality and panic.
Her next conscious thoughts were that she was very warm, much warmer than she should be. Her head hurt and her stomach churned as she rolled over onto her back.
“Oh, man, Faith,” she chided herself. “You must have really tied one on last night.”
She opened her eyes which were immediately assaulted by bright sunlight. She shut them tightly again. A warm breeze played upon her skin. Sea gulls called to each other. She was not in her dorm. Gingerly, she squinted toward the source of light. Her blurred vision gave her the images of blue skies and tropical trees distorted by thick black stripes.
“Dreaming…” Faith concluded groggily and rolled on her side, allowing the blackness to take her away again.
He went to the cage and looked at her through the bars. She was still lying down, her eyes stubbornly clenched shut like she was fighting to stay asleep.
“Good morning, Faith, you are probably wondering what you are doing here and why.”
This time, Faith’s eyes flew open wide. The speaker was a man that looked to be around his mid-forties. He had a
dark tan and was dressed in light colored shorts and a polo shirt. He stood on the other side of a door made of bars. Dizzy, Faith struggled to stand. She was in some sort of wooden box. There was an identical barred door on the opposite side of the cell. Faith realized she was trapped in.
She backed away as far as the cell would allow. The shift someone had dressed her in a shift and very exposed. It covered little more than a slip would and her undergarments were gone. She tried to stop the panic she felt rising in the pit of her stomach. She tried to think clearly through what had to be some sort of a drug induced haze.
“What’s going on? Who are you? How do you know my name?” Faith asked, trying to remember lessons learned from a woman’s self defense course she’d taken for a P.E. credit. The instructor stressed if one was cornered by an assailant, it was important not to show fear, not to beg or plead; to get angry, to demand and command.
“You are here because I wanted you to be here. Who I am is not as important as what I am. I am your Master. I know your name because I have had you investigated and followed for the last month. ” He paused for a second to let her digest his words. “You will be here for a long, long time, so you might as well get used to the idea. The situation will not change.” With that, he left her to dwell on what was happening to her.
“The fuck I am!” Faith yelled after the man. She ran to the barred doors and vainly tried to shake them loose. “Let me go now! I want to go home!”
She screamed herself hoarse. A few people walked by, looking as if they were used to seeing a scantily clad woman in a cage. No matter how she begged, pleaded, or demanded, they kept on walking as if she didn’t exist. She tried the door on the other side of the cage. It was just as solidly locked.
Faith began pacing, steeling herself for whatever was coming. She mustn’t cry. She mustn’t give into the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. She had to think clearly, to look for and use every opportunity to escape.
Chapter 2
JD picked up the phone and called his overseer, Aya Chin. JD was very fond of her. She had come to him as a purchase from her very poor Chinese parents when she was just 13 years old. He had trained her to be a slave to him. He had sent her to finishing schools and the oriental schools needed to be a perfect specimen. He wouldn’t admit to loving her, maybe he did. When she answered, he told her to come to his office.
“Immediately, sir.” was her response and the only one he expected.
Aya walked towards the big house. She had been busy in her quarters reviewing work assignments for the upcoming harvest and there was that little problem of that one slave that continued to get in fights. Aya was pretty sure that he was getting drunk but hadn’t found out where he was managing to get booze from. And he was a surly drunk. It did not take much to get him to forget his place.
Aya did not want to bring him to the punishment plaza for final judgment until she had all the evidence. Aya knew that the slave was not the only one getting drunk now and then. Master’s little trials were carefully choreographed little dramas with object lessons and she had no intention of putting on a show without all the players up on the little stage.
She had him chained to a post at the moment because the plywood box that served as a stockade had the new girl in it.
She knew about the girl. Nothing happened on the island without her knowing about it. But it had come as a surprise when they had brought the unconscious girl up from the yacht. Master had said nothing about acquiring a new slave. Aya did not question this. It did not occur to her that it was even a possibility to question her Master. He did things and she accepted them. Her mind spun back to the first time she had come here to her Master’s island. She had been only thirteen, barely a woman.
It was only a matter of a couple of minutes until he saw her up the path. She was an Asian beauty. 5’7” tall, a perfectly proportioned build, and she had coal black hair that went just below her waist. She was wearing her habitual uniform jump suit of gauzy white cotton. It didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. She walked with the dignified grace of a jungle cat.
Aya came into his office, knelt at his feet, and bowed her head, “You wished to see me, my Master?”
“Yes, I wanted to talk to you about a project I am starting. I have recently acquired a girl who I am going to conduct an experiment with. I had her investigated to see if she had the correct personality type. She was found to have a disposition towards being dominated. When my investigator went into her room, he found several romance books that had the heroines being ravished by a pirate, adventurer, and the like. He also found certain web sites that she visited that gave the indication that she fantasized about the same types of activities. I am going to give to her that wish.”
“I need you to help me. I am going to see if I can get her to serve me as my slave and pet by getting her to love me, need me, and depend on me for everything. I intend on her needing me for the very air she breaths.”
Aya listened carefully as her Master described this experiment he wanted to try, some new training technique that involved love and dependence. Aya knew about love. She loved her Master, but she also feared him. She wondered to herself how someone would want to obey solely out of love. Privately she regarded love as weakness. But it was not her nature to question.
“Just name what it is you want and it will be done. I am curious to know, Master, what it is you want me to do.”
“What I want from you is to be the ‘bad cop’ to my ‘good cop’. You will be responsible for her care. You will feed, bathe, clothe, and punish her. You will be the strict influence on her training. You will tell her the rules and be the one to enforce them. You will not show her compassion at any time. It is you she will come to fear and resent. She will see me as a gentle and loving influence, her savior.”
“How far must I take her?”
“As far as it needs to be and no farther, if she needs immediate correction, you may do so then. If there is a need for further correction and punishment, I will tell you what more needs done.”
“It will be as you command, Master. How will this new slave be addressed? Will she have a name?”
You will call her slave. I will call her by her name.
Chapter 3
JD had Aya follow him to the cell. He was going to give Faith a tour of the island and a brief outline of the rules and responsibilities that would be required of her. Just before they went in to get Faith, Aya put a belt around her waist and clipped the handle of a paddle on one hip and a flogger on the other. In her hand she had a collar with a box and electrode attached and a leash.
Aya inspected the girl in the cage critically. She was about 25, 5’4” tall, had long brown hair, and a little above average build. She had the good looks of a Midwest farmer’s daughter, nice, but not a flaming beauty. She was not much younger than Aya herself but she was soft looking and as much as she was trying to hide it, Aya could see her fear. She had moved to the back of the cage as was yanking at the bars in a futile effort to escape.
Aya took out the collar. Before leaving the big house she had tested it. Putting it against her skin and activating it. It had been powerful, making her almost fall to the ground. The batteries were under a cover that was held on by screws. Cleverly the screws were the electrical contact that touched the skin. Once the collar was locked onto the girl’s neck she would not be able to remove it or get the batteries out. There was a remote control that adjusted the mode. It could be set to shock on sound or by pressing a button on the remote.
The man returned. This time he wasn’t alone. Next to him was an Asian woman. She was a little taller than what was considered usual for her race. She was beautiful. There was a serene look about her that didn’t fit the situation. She was used to this. Just like the man, she was part of this whole bizarre scenario that was playing out with Faith as an unwilling participant.
On the Asian woman’s hips were a whip and a paddle like she was an actress in some weird kink porn film. An icy cold
chill of fear rose from the core of Faith’s being. When in the hell was someone going to wake her up and tell her this was all a nightmare?
Desperate to get away from the pair who entered her cell, Faith dodged and ran from them but there was nowhere to go. Trapped, she tried to force one of the cell doors open in a futile effort to flee.
When she opened the door the girl made one more desperate attempt to force the other door open and then turned and moved toward them, her hands up ready to fight. Aya looked at her in disdain. Every move she made telegraphed her intentions. She was going to attack her Master, clearly seeing him as the threat. As the girl made a clumsy punch toward his midsection, Aya snapped a quick blow to the girl’s elbow knocking it aside, paralyzing her arm and slapped her hard across the face, knocking her to the floor. Aya knew how demoralizing a slap can be and it would shake the girl to her toes.
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