“Then sell her, Justin,” Dylan decided for him.
“Sell her?” he chortled darkly. “Maybe to some Sultan for a night, but sell her outright? Hell no! I’d be crazy. em’s worth a fortune to me whether I keep her as my personal slave or make her a Guild regular. I figure I can retire on the cash she’ll bring. It’s a risk, a sacrifice perhaps…but the black syndicate will eat her up in a heartbeat. There are masters all over the world who comb our files for women like em to serve them. Have you ever known a woman so devotedly obedient, so willing, so thoughtless?”
“No, I can’t say I have.”
“Then certainly you understand how valuable she is?”
“Indeed she is. And you expect Charles and Evelyn will train her for what you want?”
“I’m using them to set the mood for my property. By the time she gets there, I will have made my point. She will understand that she’s a slave and nothing more. And then… Charles and Evelyn can play nursemaid to her intellect—you know Charles is always waxing philosophic about our lifestyle. em will need that kind of reassurance. And Ev will just eat her up—now that she can. They’ll take good care of my property and that’s all the training she’ll need to prepare her for what she will be about.”
“Do they know your plans?”
“As much as I need to tell them.”
“I never realized that you would go to such lengths with her,” Dylan was truly in awe.
“You’ve done so yourself, Kincaid,” Justin chided.
“Not with my former wife.”
“And you don’t have a former wife who turned the tables on you.”
“Some masters would have been overjoyed to discover an em in their beds when finding good slaves is not very easy.”
“I don’t have a problem finding slaves. em was my wife, that’s what I wanted her to be. I can’t reconcile the fact that she decided to change. The change might have pleased her, but it didn’t please me. I figure with what’s happened I’m doing the S&M world a big favor, putting her on the trading block for everyone to enjoy. That gets me out of the emotional turmoil, and, it really turns me on; I guess that’s my reward. Trust me, she will be happy. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t believe that were so.”
“I guess being “fucked up” doesn’t last long with you,” Dylan observed.
“I’m fucked up only when I remember what I had before, and miss it,” he shrugged. “Then I get over it, and remember what I can create for myself and her, and I’m okay.”
This was not the ending that Dylan Kincaid forecast for the beautiful em. But he had resolutions of his own. Where Justin Booker would inevitably fail with her he would succeed.
Chapter Ten
Days under blue white sky
The sun burned her eyes from the outside in. She lay on a white pallet in a white room, staring out a window to the whiteness of a sandy beach and the blue of a brilliant sky.
em had no idea how she arrived at this curious palace of white and angular lines, appearing so different from the heavy brocade and wood-trimmed world of sexual subservience. At least that’s what her adopted world looked like from her humble point of view. She had no idea how she happened to be in the stark white room, alone and bound to a pallet covered in a clean white sheet.
She was spread-eagle, face up, head forced to turn aside when the sun came pouring in the window blinding her eyes. She wanted to see more, but her head ached, and it was easier to close her eyes and let them rest.
She remembered the brown sedan taking the city quickly, whirring through the industrial district littered with warehouses and forklifts and sleazy buildings until it broke out into the open spaces occupied by a private airstrip, a thin finger of landfill stretching into the bay. She had been removed from the car by the driver and another man who had been awaiting her arrival. Though the bar between her legs had been removed, she remained naked, collared in the single chain and handcuffed. She was escorted to the tarmac and hurried up the stairs of a small twin-engine corporate jet. Cold air hit her skin—wind off the bay turning more brisk as the sunset. Her body chilled, hardly having warmed inside the car where the temperature had been bearable but not exactly comfortable.
Though there were a few people in the vicinity there to see the naked slave transported, few bothered to scrutinize what should have been an extraordinary sight. Had the entire world gone awry?
In preparation for the flight, she was strapped into a standard airplane seat with the spreader bar again affixed between her legs. However, this time her handcuffs were removed with her hands strapped down to the arms of her seat. Although she hadn’t said a word on the entire trip, a ballgag was forced into her mouth just in case she might be tempted to scream—as if that would do her any good a mile high in the air.
The flight was calm, so uneventful that she found herself nodding off despite the worrisome fear she would live with until some order returned to her life—and would there ever be a life she could count on? Or just a jumble of scenes one after the other until her time ran out?
She was chattel, property from the moment she left Dylan Kincaid’s office until she was taken from the plane at another private airstrip and scooted off to what she understood would be a training facility for slaves. She lay here now on the pallet of white in the white white room, looking out at a brilliant ocean, wondering now if the plane had actually crashed and she was in a holding cell for heaven.
***
“Ah! You’re awake.”
em peered up, her vision still blurred though her eyes were open and attempting to focus on the face of a woman.
“Evelyn and Charles will be so pleased.”
Evelyn and Charles. She knew an Evelyn and Charles.
Justin’s clients. But certainly they were not the same people. She remembered her last visit to their villa in Florida. The three-day vacation in paradise just a year ago was one of the best she’d taken with her husband in some time. She had no husband now and no hope for good vacations like that one had been. But she would remember those days fondly—Evelyn and Charles were a most charming couple, older than she and Justin by a good fifteen years, but still full of fun. They swam, played cards, ate terrific food and went dancing at several beach nightclubs. She came alive inside their high-spirited world, enjoying their mirth, the funny twinkle in Charles’ eye when he flirted with her—as if he knew secrets she didn’t know, and Evelyn when she hugged her in a sisterly way that drew out of her a sensuous spirit the sometimes prudish Emily rarely expressed.
em smiled at her brief memories and returned her focus to the blurring world before her eyes.
The woman behind the voice was a buxom, broad-hipped, dark-skinned female, wearing a white cotton maid’s uniform: dress, apron and comfortable shoes. Something in her appearance was familiar, but that was not yet clear to her. With a smile on her face, the woman carefully undid a myriad of straps that bound em to the white pallet and pulled her to her feet.
The stout woman looked up to see her face, stroking em’s arm affectionately. “You are lovely in the flesh,” she said, admiringly.
A strange sort of thing to say, em thought, but one strange moment was piling atop the one before. She should expect nothing less.
Outside her white room, the world expanded, so much that her eyes hurt seeing before her a sea of green foliage and beyond the green more white and angles. Before she could take it all in, however, a blindfold was drawn over her eyes—not by the stout woman at her side, but someone else, walking behind her who pushed her gently forward. Quaking with anticipation, em walked gingerly as if any minute she’d topple over. She was escorted by the maid and the mysterious person behind her. Walking blind was difficult. Told to halt, she gladly obliged.
“Kneel,” em was ordered when the trio finally came to a halt. “And part your knees wide, please.” The further instruction was hardly surprising considering the way her body had been arranged in the car and on the plane. She would have no modesty here. Funny ho
w things that used to concern her no longer mattered, like being naked, exposing her sex, anal penetration and the harsh commands that ruled her life. She was free now of everything in her life that kept her prim and guarded. Her selfless anonymity and the use of her body were stimulants many times greater than romantic music and rich tasting wine. She lived for physical sensation and the feelings of gratification put her in a perpetual state of arousal. She was wet, prepared for sex, or any other task her masters required.
She was scared, but that was heaven, too. Though she missed Justin’s presence, quite oddly, his authority seemed to be guiding her from afar.
em waited several minutes, abandoning her thoughts.
“Oh, my, how pretty!” a female voice exclaimed.
em jerked hearing the sound.
“Do you think she knows?” the woman asked.
“I suppose we ought to ask?” a man replied.
“Hummm,” the female seemed to be circling her though the waiting slave couldn’t be sure.
Feeling a sudden tug at the back of her head, the blindfold ripped away and em stared in wonder at the sight before her, looking up at an effervescent brunette in a blue/green caftan and an older tanned and handsome fellow in white slacks and a pale blue golf shirt.
Charles and Evelyn.
em resisted the temptation to hide herself from friends she’d known for several years. Instead, the shock registered on her face.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Ev began, “you’re safe here.”
“Safe?”
“Safe and in good hands,” Charles added. “Justin has asked us to continue your training.”
She still looked shocked.
“Don’t be so surprised, em, we’ve known Justin through the lifestyle since long before you married him. Many times we urged him to try you out, but he assured us that you were strictly ‘vanilla’—wouldn’t put on a corset, let alone allow someone to whip you or kneel at a master’s feet.” Her faced brightened like Christmas. “And here now, we understand that you’re prime Guild flesh, tattooed, anally stretched, and ready for more.” She sounded like a TV infomercial. Evelyn couldn’t be any happier if she were just told she’d won a million dollars.
“Yes, ma’am,” was all that em could say as this strange reality smashed her in the face.
“Oh, you do know your place,” Evelyn literally tittered with excitement.
“Slow down, girl,” Charles chimed in. “I think we’d better answer a few questions. And lay out the rules.”
The comment instantly calmed the effusive women, and the pair sat down in matching rattan chairs, looking not like any masters em had faced before, but like the friends they’d always been. She watched them carefully seeking signs of the lifestyle that had become her only passion—trying to remember something from the past that could have given her a clue. There was nothing to indicate that they joined Justin in his fetish, except now, perhaps, a subtle shift in their behavior, a slightly firmer tone just as they took their seats. Yes, there was a stern demeanor that became more apparent as the topic shifted to em’s questions and ‘the rules.’
“Obviously, em,” the man began, “we were delighted when Justin—your master—called us with the news of your coming out. Shocked us, of course, but strange things do happen in our world. We were even more pleased when he asked us to work with you for the next few months as he prepares you for your service to him. I warn you, em, there is another side to us that you have yet to discover. Though I know you’ve gone through a great deal over the last few months you’ll experience even more extremes of human slavery in the months ahead. Although I’m not completely sure of Justin’s plans for you, I can assure you that we will do the best we can to prepare you as a sexual slave, and so serve you in the process.” He was so very kind, as Charles always was, but the more charming side to him was fading as if he were taking on a new persona the more he spoke of her submission. His voice changed, too, becoming more formal and less causally congenial like the man she’d come to know.
“The rules are simple here…” he continued, “you obediently follow every order without hesitation or complaint. You will be clothed as you are now (which was nothing at all) and will be expected to keep your body posture open just as you are sitting. The spreader bars used for your transport were by our design—a foretaste of what is to come. At night, you’ll sleep bound, your pussy splayed and later today you will be pierced in order that your labia are always open and the center of your sex exposed. The flower petals at your crotch are a sexual centerpiece; they are your offering to the domain in which we live. Likewise your unfailing obedience is a gift you give yourself and those who use and master you.”
em’s calm expression seemed to waver the more he spoke. The sweet, flirtatious Charles had become another man to master her with the same determined and forceful words that pleasantly astonished every sexual place of her body.
“You will be used, regularly and hard. You will be beaten for disobedience and at our whim. We are not cruel masters, but we enjoy this life even more than the life you experienced with us before. Expect to be the slave every minute of your day, and love what you have become. There are no big secrets here; there is discipline, submission and pleasure. That is what you will celebrate.”
em was pierced that afternoon. Two ten gauge quarter-sized rings were placed high on either labia, so, just as Charles warned, her sex could be perpetually displayed. In a few weeks, as soon as the piercings healed, the rings would be replaced with a bar, threaded through both sides, which would exhibit her privates exactly as Charles wanted. While Justin had not demanded this ornamentation, this fetish was a personal favorite of em’s Dominant in charge.
The newly pierced slave was often made to sit in the company of her masters while they entertained guests. She would kneel on the floor, her knees spread so everyone could see her bare wet pussy. On other occasions, she was bound to the walls of the living room, or made to hang like a centerpiece, or bent over a rail with her ass upturned, cleft open. She was no more than a trinket for these two lusty souls to exhibit and play with. Evelyn did most of the playing. Often after dinner parties, which they gave at least two times a week, em was brought into the center of the living room and put up for inspection, or, on more bawdy occasions, auctioned off to guests. Evelyn loved probing her ass and pussy for the entertainment of her friends, even masturbating her with skilled fingers until the aroused em thrashed and shimmied and begged to cum. Sometimes she was allowed the pleasurable release, at other times she was denied the climax—just for sport. A few times, Evelyn sat back and ordered em to masturbate herself for the enjoyment of the audience. The self-conscious slave found the trial almost impossible at the start. Though once she understood that Madam Evelyn would wait as long as an hour for em to climax, the slave learned to cum more quickly.
There were times when she was beaten for the sport of it, Evelyn offering her guests the opportunity to use the device of their choice—flogger, whip, paddle or crop—and give the novice slave a good going over.
When she was auctioned—which was nearly every other week, em was raised to a dais, feet bound to either side, and arms strung overhead. Generally, the buyers probed her body, toyed with her pussy until she was about to cum, then stopped. (Once, she was given a three-quart enema, fitted with a retention plug and then strung up again as the auction moved along at an excruciating snail’s pace.) The buyer at any auction had the choice of taking his purchase into one of the many bedrooms in the villa and using her for the allotted time, or giving her to the entire room to feast on.
During these scenes, em focused solely on the physical. She allowed her body to lead and her mind to forget that she was anything but a simple sex toy.
The dutiful sex toy was all that Charles and Evelyn saw in her. She could be as easily discarded as used on any given day—often tossed aside and ignored while maintaining some difficult pose, and only attended to when she simply couldn’t tolerate the discomfort
any longer and staged a mild mutiny. She was usually punished for that kind of incident, though it was rarely anything particularly painful. Charles and Evelyn shunned the heavy pain, though they allowed their guests to do anything as long as they didn’t draw blood. em’s endurance grew.
The wild endorphin rushes kept her sane… and for days she never left the sensuous, dizzying bliss. She swam from one scene to the next, never wondering if there was anything else to life than what was happening now. As if being drugged forever and forever was the perfect place to be.
Many of the scenes throughout em’s day were videotaped and sent to the Guild website and particularly to her owner. em was allowed to see her image on the Internet, understanding that her body and face were leered at by hundreds of thousands of horny men, fit fodder for jacking off.
Two weeks, six weeks, a dozen… the weeks stretched on through a season, though in South Florida there are few seasons to worry about. The weather was as constant as em’s routine… until the routine became too routine. Even the ebullient Evelyn and the once flirtatious Charles were thinking of a change.
And em? What was one more cock inside her pussy? One more beating? One more auction or fondling hand?
While em was Evelyn’s pet, Charles became the closest to caring for her in some other way than sexual. On their quieter evenings, he would take her aside, and talk about his lifestyle and his experience. He’d ask her questions… How was she doing? How did she feel about her slavery? What did she see for herself in the future?
At first, em met these questions with pat answers, straight from the slave’s rulebook of appropriate responses. A good slave learned their lines without having to be told them. “I’m doing fine, sir.” “Being a slave is who I am, sir.” “I can’t see a future, sir, that is for my owner to determine.”
Initially, Charles was pleased by these responses. Weeks later, he was disgruntled and probed more.
“You have permission to disagree with us, to hate things, fear others, want for what we’re not giving you. I can’t promise that anything will change, but I want you to scour your heart and find what’s there. Tell me what you’re not saying.”
His Latest Acquisition Page 16