His Latest Acquisition

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  em often thought about his questions at night when she was bound in the white room on her pallet. Little things began to surface, with a few unearthed, a few more unslavelike thoughts emerged. Simple things—a bit of hurt, a feeling of betrayal, and a longing for something she was only now realizing that she missed.

  “Does my owner ever call to ask about me?” she asked. She hadn’t talked to Justin since he sent her to Florida.

  Charles wasn’t sure how to respond—the truth or something to disguise it.

  Evelyn was sitting in the room and recoiled the minute she heard the question.

  “No, em, he hasn’t called,” Charles finally said.

  “I wonder why?”

  “He wants you focused on your tasks here.”

  The answer seemed to satisfy em, but it didn’t satisfy Charles or the worried Evelyn.

  “I do miss him,” she mentioned the next evening. With her thoughts pried loose there was a certain sadness blooming in her abandoned heart.

  “Of course you miss him,” Evelyn replied this time. “But trust me, he knows how well you’re doing. He’s seen the videos. He’s very proud of you.”

  em would have liked to hear him tell her this himself, but she was beginning to believe this wouldn’t happen.

  Chapter Eleven

  As Winter approaches…

  Dylan Kincaid opened the files on em, watching her carefully as he had since she’d been transported to Florida. It was his job as Guild director; and it was also personal.

  Charles and Evelyn were good for her. They provided her the environment to live her fantasy. She was an expert slave before she was sent to them, an exquisite example of surrender in their hands. She seemed to flower in their care and have few reservations about anything they demanded.

  They hid the truth from her very well. Although understanding Justin Booker better every day, Dylan realized that the couple didn’t know the entirety of Justin’s plans for her.

  The first weeks showed her obvious bliss, showed how she easily acclimatized herself to life in the villa. He could see the contentment and the lust written in her expression. Even the extremes didn’t seem to daunt her—the lewd auctions, the anal sex, the many times she was the centerpiece of an orgy. Of course, Evelyn was the perfect nursemaid, coaxing the willing slave into anything she wanted of her with a saccharine and gently pushy technique. She made the slave feel like a princess in the middle of baring everything she was. Then too, that wasn’t exactly true. em bared very little of herself that truly mattered, and no one seemed to care. Surely not Justin Booker, who should have known his former wife better than anyone.

  Dylan had learned that assumptions were risky and often false.

  He suspected there was a change in the flawless em about the tenth week. By the fourteenth, he was certain. Dylan Kincaid, the master, knew what he was looking for. The haunting in the eyes was always the first sign of a faltering slave.

  In another part of town…

  kari was breathless in bondage. The blonde nymph exuded such a quality of spirit and submissiveness that she tickled his crotch every time they were together. Justin was in love with her tits; her ass was perfection. She could jump start his Dom motors anytime she dangled in his dungeon. It was the dungeon now that em was gone. He liked the name and the implications. He’d remake the entire house by years’ end, get rid of the frills, which were useless to him now. He would maintain the integrity of the older home with dark colors, and a mood of richness and command that was common in many of his scene friend’s homes. But he imagined that the main floor dungeon would always be his favorite place in his domain.

  Seeing his kari strung up and helpless now, he was helpless to ignore the savage beast in him she’d awakened with her resplendent, carnal beauty. She was wearing leather, a new creation he’d had made just for her. Black, butter-soft and warmed by her flesh, the garment fit as tightly as skin, contoured for her body alone. Designed as a catsuit to fit from ankle to collar, it was significantly improved upon with cutouts for her ass, her crotch and her delightful breasts. Clipped to her nipples were two scissor-clamps that pinched the tumescent buds to make her shiver without stopping. Covering her face was a leather mask with a built-in dildo mouth gag and tiny slits for her to breathe through. Her eyes were covered, her sight blinded. He’d have her in a hood except that he liked the look of her spiky blonde hair contrasting the black leather suit.

  She hung from a heavy-duty chain, arms stretched, body left dangling so that her toes could graze the carpeted floor. Sometimes she swung free; at other times, she used the tips of her short leather boots to keep her balance. He’d been training her to tolerate suspension both from her heavily padded wrists and her ankles. Her affinity for bondage made her particularly appealing to him. She hardly ever balked anymore. The little talk they’d had months ago made a clear impact on her attitude. They understood each other from that moment and both got what they were after.

  She would get more today, marks to last for the entire next week. He’d be in Florida taking care of other business, so while he was gone, his two submissives would need reminders of his power over them. He’d handle brit later in the same manner.

  Justin’s cock was freely engaged as he began to make the rounds of kari’s body, brandishing his baton, liberally striking what was bare, pink and ready for his artwork. He most liked to flick the thin reed against her breasts where the flesh responded almost instantaneously to the sharp whaps. Red welts rose in a beautiful array looking as if each one had been carefully planned to lay a perfect pattern of color on her white flesh. He listened joyfully, hearing her distressed but muffled cry sound beyond the gag. She twitched crazily, which was a signal for him to change his target, this time centering his cuts on her ass until it, too, was lined with red welts and she was struggling against the pain.

  He wouldn’t strike her crotch in the same manner, though he had other plans for the pubescent looking sex lips; shaved, puckering and glistening with dew. His mouth watered thinking of that tasty snatch. Giving her a rest from the rain of strikes, he zippered her crotch with six closely aligned clothespins, each attached in single file to a gold cord. After returning to the baton and working her breasts and ass one more time, he then teased the dangling beauty tugging the long end of the zipper cord. She winced each time he threatened to rip it free, but he would take his time. The longer she wore the clamps, the more she’d suffer when he ripped them off.

  “You want this, don’t you?” he whispered in her ear.

  She writhed just from the threat, answering his question in the only way she could.

  “Have I ever told you how glad I am that we came to our agreement? You do so well with pain—inspires a man like me to new depths of sadistic torment.” He spanked her welted ass, causing her to twirl around a good quarter turn, and then twirl back. He spanked the other ass cheek with the same result in the opposite direction. Then, with kari directly in front of him, he ran a finger down the welts on her breasts; it almost made him hurt to see her flinch. She’d live with these for days remembering how she got them.

  Taking the gold cord in his hand again, he tugged it gently, then tugged it hard—though not enough to affect the six pinching clothespins. He wanted her on the very verge of screaming before he finally yanked the zipper free.

  “Shall I do it now?” he whispered.

  Of course, she couldn’t reply.

  “Or how about now?” he asked again giving the cord a gentle tug.

  He listened to her labored breathing, wondering what she was thinking inside her mask.

  “You so love the pain, don’t you?” He tugged a little harder as his words taunted her. “Think you can cum?” Justin almost laughed

  kari struggled uselessly, mewing from behind the gag. She should be desperate now with the clothespins biting into the tenderest part of her body. The only way to free herself from one physical pain was to endure another sharper sensation.

  Justin gripped t
he cord, tugged it in play another several times, then with a sweeping gesture, he ripped the clothespins free, feeling the sudden burst of excited thrill captivate his pulsing organ. kari affected a gurgling sound into her leather mask, body fighting furiously, thrashing back and forth without any attempt to control herself. When the pain eased off, Justin’s leather-gloved hand was at her pussy, catching the juices pouring from the open space and smearing them across her recently pinched labia. Her orgasm built quickly, with just a few well-aimed flicks of his fingers.

  “Umh, umh, um, ugh.” The sound was most undignified and unladylike, but kari could not control of herself. Another kind of thrashing commenced with her body jerking from pleasure not pain this time. Justin’s cock responded, now ready for its own satisfaction. He’d use her mouth as his orifice of choice. As soon as he could have her on her knees, he’d stuff his organ in her mouth and fuck it until he came and his milky product spurted down her throat.

  Justin Booker now used the former sewing room/slave quarters for his computer room. The light was perfect and he considered the changes to the room permanent, since he didn’t anticipate his former wife returning to his home. Better she was leased out as he planned. em wouldn’t complicate his mental state if she were safely out of sight.

  The thrill for him would be in the sale of her body, the power he had to manipulate her from afar, to take what was the perfect slave and use it in the broadest fashion as a stable whore, eking profits from her willingness to serve him. This diversion would serve his interests and hers—too bad he hadn’t come to that conclusion earlier.

  Clicking on the modem, he listened to the beeps and noises as if it were fine music. Funny, he loved to look at em more on-line than in person. Something about the distance was so breathtaking—static perhaps, and maybe that was exactly what aroused him so. He couldn’t hurt her personally—at least not easily, but by proxy, he could order many things and know she was getting what she wanted.

  He clicked his way quickly through the initial Guild pages until he came to em’s code word and entered his password.

  Access denied. Code 702.

  He tried again.

  Access denied. Code 702

  He tried several other well-known Guild slaves only to have their pages pop up quickly.

  He tried em again.

  Access denied. Code 702

  What the fuck was Code 702! his mind scowled, while he scoured the website for an explanation.

  Code 702—Files being permanently removed. Slave em no longer available.

  “What the hell!” His heart beat like a bloody freight train, out-of-control.

  Email to Kincaid….

  “What happened to em’s files?”

  He waited five unforgiving minutes and with no answer, he called the number in his Rolodex for Dylan Kincaid.

  No answer, no answering machine. Panic took away his reason.

  Phone call to Charles and Evelyn…

  “em okay?” he asked hurriedly, making no attempt to disguise his distress.

  “Of course, why would you think otherwise?” a calm Charles replied. “You seem upset.”

  “Her Guild files were toasted.”

  “I don’t know what you mean?”

  “The Guild files on the website, the pictures, bio, sales information are being permanently removed.”

  “Really?” Charles was completely baffled but not alarmed. “Isn’t that strange?”

  “Yes, it’s strange. Totally against my aims.”

  “But I certainly wouldn’t panic. You know computers—glitches, viruses, bugs, damnedest time keeping them healthy. But em is fine, lovely as ever, I hope we don’t have to give her up right away.”

  “I’m flying down,” Justin said, ignoring the man’s attempts at providing a reasonable answer.

  “Yes, of course, we were expecting you in a few days.”

  “I’ll be arriving tonight instead.”

  “Really?” he seemed concerned. “Fine with us, your room’s ready. This isn’t because of this website thing? You’d be silly to worry.”

  Justin quickly ran the last five minutes of his life back through his mind, understanding the terror that gripped him and what he was communicating to his friend. He eased, if no more than for show; he needed to get a grip.

  “No,” he returned, restoring the calm to his voice. “I just got a better deal on the earlier flight. Won’t put you out, will it?”

  “No, of course not. em will be glad to see you.”

  “You haven’t told her I’m coming, have you?”

  “No, just as you requested. I know you want it to be a surprise.”

  “Yes, yes I do. Have her in chains, prepared for bondage in your dungeon.”

  “You wish to scene with her?”

  “I think so.” He hadn’t thought that far ahead, and his mind was now too full of thoughts to make any clear decisions. He’d know what to do when he got to the villa, until then, he’d let the matter rest.

  Justin went back on-line to find the Guild files on masters seeking submissives for trade. It was curiously off-line. ‘Error message’—said the file was being updated. None of this made sense. No email from Kincaid. Another call to his house number—still no answer and no voice mail.

  He needed an explanation.

  Were his plans disintegrating into nothing or was he being as irrational as this entire day had become?

  Chapter Twelve

  Denouement

  em had been artfully arranged. Justin had never seen her in chains. In fact, he’d never rope dressed the acquisition, which was really too bad, as he probably wouldn’t take the time now. Maybe he’d wasted those first few months with her… but he couldn’t tolerate regret. He’d enjoy her now just as she was, decked out in ropes of metal not nylon or hemp, but in chains looking slightly absurd, but strangely beautiful.

  She lay on her back against a horizontal rack with her neck cradled in a leather cuff, supporting her dangling head just enough to be safe. Her shoulders were arched thrusting her torso upwards, while her arms were forced down her at sides, hands in wrist cuffs secured tautly with chains to the base of the apparatus. em’s legs were spread wide and slightly downward so that her pussy was arranged like an offering. In deference to her silvery chain attire, the gold bar that splayed her pussy had been changed to a platinum one. As usual, her crotch was open and quite naked, pink lips wet, tumescent, and itching to be touched.

  Beginning at her neck, em’s body had been bound with thick chains, one inch in diameter, wrapping her throat then winding down her breasts, her torso, waist, hips and then each thigh separately. Her mouth was gagged with an open ‘O-ring’ wedged deep and secured tightly behind her head, while her eyes were covered with a silver blindfold. Since living with Charles and Evelyn, em’s hair had grown until it was nearly shoulder-length. In this position it should have dangled loosely, but for the occasion Evelyn had braided it into a neat French plait at the back of her head, the short tail tickling the air.

  Justin watched em’s inert body for some minutes, wondering if she was actually breathing. Keeping a close eye on her, he finally detected the slight rise and fall of her chest. In this position, her breasts were oddly smashed against her chest, though between two strands of chains, her nipples peeked out. These tiny buds could not be contained. Justin almost smiled thinking that she used to be so self-conscious of what he considered one of her finest assets. She used to be, but she didn’t have the luxury of modesty now.

  Of course, em wouldn’t know how lovely she looked—and likely if she could see the picture of herself, she’d be appalled by what she had become.

  He thought her exquisite, though she remained unattainable and removed. Separate from the world. What was she doing now? He wondered. Meditating perhaps, or feeling the extremes of this extreme posture? She certainly didn’t seem distressed. Even as he watched her and the minutes ticked off the clock, her breathing was still and unhurried.

  Justin
circled her several times, while Charles and Evelyn stood off to one side.

  When he returned to them, he asked his friend, “What have you told her?”

  “That we wanted her bound. She doesn’t ask questions unless she’s prodded to.”

  “And she takes the flogger on her pussy?” Justin continued.

  “As well as any slave can,” Evelyn answered in a serious whisper. “You might actually make her cum if you work with her natural rhythms. For a few weeks, we prevented her from climaxing except through restraint and punishment. Her body learned to turn the pain to pleasure and get off.”

  Justin had toyed with the idea of this scene during his plane ride and the trip from the airport. However, until he reached the villa and saw how em had been laid out, he was still confused about where he would begin. His actions were spontaneous, first dallying with her proudly pierced pussy, seeing it twitch nervously from the sensation of air alone. He loved the way she’d been cleanly shaved; and he spent some seconds checking for hair all the way down to her anus where it was as smooth as the rest of her nether regions.

  Inserting a finger in her pussy, he probed the juicy portal, noting her difficult but obvious physical response to the manipulation. He sensed she could cum easily. Backing away, he chose two floggers, one of soft deerskin and the other made from thin strands of cowhide. One would soothe, the other bite.

  How would this flogging feel inside her chains? Would the metal vibrate unlike leather or rope? Would it even make a difference to her physical enjoyment? Leave it to Charles and Evelyn to give them both this curious challenge.

  Waltzing back to his chain-bound property, he began with the sensuous deerskin, flogging her lightly until his strikes covered most of her exposed flesh. Then, he continued with the cowhide, raining strikes against her legs, the swell of her pubis where her hips jut out and then her breasts with her dangerously exposed nipples.