Darkest Hour - J.W. McKenna

 J. W. McKenna McKenna

Darkest Hour Hour

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 J. W. McKenna McKenna

Darkest Hour Hour

DARKEST HOUR 

An Ellora’s Cave electronic publication in association with author  J.W. McKenna MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-84360-178-8 Mobipocket (PRC) ISBN # 1-84360-179-6 Other formats (no ISBNs): Rocketbook, HTML, Adobe All Rights Reserved. http://www.ellorascave.com © Copyright J.W. McKenna, 2002. Ellora’s Cave, Inc., USA Ellora’s Cave, Ltd., UK This book/e-book may not be reproduced in whole or in part by email forwarding, copying, fax, or any other mode of communication without author and publisher permission. Edited by Cris Brashear & Tina Engler. Artwork by Darrell King.

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 Warning: The following material contains extreme sexual content meant for mature readers. “DARKEST HOUR” has been rated Hard NC-17, extreme erotica, by three individual reviewers. We strongly suggest storing this electronic book in a place where young  readers not meant to view it are unlikely to happen upon it. That said, enjoy…

 J. W. McKenna

Darkest Hour

Book 1: The Darkness

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Chapter 1 Ellie Martinson knocked on the door to Frank's apartment. She steeled herself, thinking that it had to be done. It was for his own good. He opened the door. His round face broke into a grin. "Honey? You're early. I didn't expect you until after eight. I just got off myself—E.R. was a madhouse. I was about to change out of my scrubs." "Oh, I got away for a little while." She tried to hide her nervousness. Come on! You've been putting this off!

"Would you like a drink?" "Sure." She watched as he fixed her a martini, just the way she liked it. He was such a nice guy, so eager to please. She felt like she was about to kick a puppy. She sucked in a breath. "Frank—we have to talk." He stared at her. What was this? "Oookay," he said, waiting. She took a swallow. "Frank, uh...this just isn't working for me." His eyes got round. "What? You mean, us? Uh, I thought we were getting along great." "I know you were. I don't want to hurt your feelings, Frank. I probably should've said something a few months ago—" "A few months ago! You've been thinking about this that long?" "Look, Frank—you're nice guy. I've enjoyed our time together. But you're…I mean…" "What are you trying to say, Ellie?" "You're—Well, you're a little too laid back for me." Frank showed a flash of anger. She had rarely seen him angry before. "Laid back? You mean, because I'm not a ball-buster like you, I'm laid back?" "That's not what I mean and you know it, dammit!"

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As quickly as his anger flared, it faded. "I thought we made a nice balance, you and I. You were the hard-charging executive, I was the calming influence, the healer." "That's true, but…I think I need the excitement." Suddenly, she realized how rude that sounded. "I mean, I need someone who has a little more fire—" That was just as bad. "Oh, come on, Ellie! If you got together with a man with as strong a personality as you, you two would clash all the time! Look at how much you complain about your boss, and he's just like you." She tipped her head, as if conceding the point. Yet there was something she was missing and Frank wasn't doing it for her. Ellie would never tell him to his face, but she had begun to think of him as a wimp. The "nice guy" who attracted her in the first place had begun to grate on her after awhile. "Still, I need the challenge," she said, not wanting to add "of a strong man." "You're never going to find a man who treats you as well as I do, Ellie." He looked pensive. Unconsciously, he began to rub his balding forehead, as he always did when he became nervous. To Ellie, Frank was a taller version of George on "Seinfeld." She shrugged. "You may be right. But I have to go with my gut. And my gut tells me this isn't working for me right now. Maybe later…" He gave her a short, mirthless laugh. "Oh, yeah, 'let's still be friends'," he mocked. "You know, this hasn't exactly been a picnic for me, either," Frank continued. "Sometimes you're a little hard to take. You can be prickly. I wouldn't have minded it if you were softer around the edges." God! That's what my mother always said I should try to be! His words stung and

she was the one breaking up with him! "I'm plenty 'soft' when I need to be. It's just that a woman today has to fight for everything."

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"No she doesn't. You like the fight. You like to dominate. You like charging into a room full of testosterone and proving that you have balls too." She colored. "That's not a very nice thing to say." "Yeah, but it's true," he said. It was something that he probably should've said a long time ago. He hadn't wanted to rock the boat. Certain topics you just didn't bring up with Ellie unless you wanted a verbal war. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Ellie. You may not. You're pretty set in your ways—and you're not even 33 yet." "I am not set in my ways. It only seems that way to you. Face it—you aren't my soul mate, and I'm not yours. It's better we end it now." "You say that now. Two years from now, you may look back and think you didn't have it so bad here." He paused, then risked saying what he was truly believed. "I think you're going to have a lot of disappointment ahead of you, Ellie." His prediction angered her. She told him she had to get some of her things and went into the bedroom. She gathered up the extra clothes that she had left over during the seven months they had been dating. She didn't want to hurt Frank, but she didn't have time to fool around with a man who was never going to be Mr. Right. It's not that she needed a steady man in her life—she'd done very well without one, thank you. Yet she did get lonely—what woman wouldn't? Why hang out with a man like Frank when she could be out there looking for the man who might be a much better fit for her? A strong man. A man who had the power to sweep her off her feet. Frank trailed behind her as she grabbed her things, trying to think of the right thing to say. Something that would give them both closure. Outwardly, he was dismayed at the turn of events, but inside, he had to admit he was a little relieved. He knew that if they had gotten married, she’d have had his balls in a  jar on a shelf—even more so than she did now, he thought ruefully. "Hard-charging" was the polite word for Ellie. He could think of another one.

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Truth be told, he liked Ellie—and the sex was great. As long as he let her have her way, they were good together. That's probably why they had stayed together for so long. She could be a tough broad, though. His brother had warned him, not long after he had met her. Early in the relationship, when Ellie was still refusing to have sex with him, his brother would tease Frank when he came home from a date with Ellie. "Look out, the man's balls are gonna blow!" He was always telling him: "Come on, Frank, why'dya wanna go out with the Ice Queen?" Turns out, he had been right all along. Frank was trying to figure out how he could twist this to tell his brother he broke up with her .

When Ellie left Frank's place a few minutes later, a shopping bag of her things tucked under one arm, she felt vaguely dirty, as if she had performed a distasteful task. Dirty, but relieved. She had had these feelings for several weeks, yet hated to disappoint the kind man. In many ways, he was the perfect mate—generous, helpful, solicitous, and he wasn't a bad lover, either. Yet there was an element of danger missing in him. She craved life on the edge. She liked strong men, risky men. She couldn't help it—it was just the way she was born. She worked for such a man. Jason Cummins was married, so he was offlimits, but she found herself entertaining impure thoughts about him. Why she was attracted to him, she didn't know. He was arrogant, opinionated, and did not suffer fools gladly. He was also a powerful force. He carved the air around him as he walked. People instinctively stepped back to let him pass. Ellie found that kind of raw power an incredible turn-on. The entire experience with Frank put Ellie in a bad mood. By the time she walked the three floors down to the parking lot, she was irritable and out-of-

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sorts. Damn him for making me feel like such a bitch! There are men out there who can tame me—if they're strong enough!

As she stalked across the parking lot toward her car, muttering to herself, from a distance, a stranger in the dark van watched her. He studied her longlegged stride, her blonde hair made up into a tight, business-like bun. He could tell she was angry. Throwing the bag onto the passenger seat, Ellie slid in, started the car and drove off. The stranger watched for a moment, then followed. Parking outside her apartment, the man watched as Ellie stepped out of her car. She trudged up to the door of her townhouse and let herself in. The man saw the slump of her shoulders. What went wrong? He turned on the small radio receiver and put the earphone into his ear canal. He cocked his head as he listened to the woman close the front door. The microphone, hidden under the coffee table in her living room, picked up her voice as she talked to herself, rising and falling as she approached, then walked away from it. "So he thinks I'm going to MISS HIM? That I can't do better than….I'll tell you, I deserve to have more EXCITEMENT. SOMEONE who will turn me on as…" The man smiled. She and the intern had broken up. Now that the boyfriend's out of the way, I can move the schedule up.

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Chapter 2 Ellie remained distracted when she walked into the office the following day. Her mind flip-flopped over Frank's warnings that she would never find a man she could truly love. Was she really such a hard case? She dreaded the upcoming conversation with her mother. Letting a doctor slip through her fingers like that! She could hear her mother's voice now: "Men don't like all those hard edges, Ellie—how many times have I told you that! You need to be softer, more feminine, to win the heart of a man." Oh, god! She thinks I'm going to be an old maid! Shaking her head, she got down

to work. She was busy today. Jason was out of town and he’d dumped a few of his projects on her desk before he left. She spent the day juggling crises: their software wasn't compatible with one client's platform; the sales figures from the Chicago office didn't gibe with the accounts receivable—and on and on. Even as she dealt with these issues, there was a nagging doubt in the back of her mind. Something important, but she couldn't remember what it was. Did it have to do with Frank? It was just too vague to bother with—she had more important problems to handle. When she left the office at 6 p.m., she was exhausted. Coming home, she checked the answering machine, expecting Frank's call, to tell her how much he missed her. What a wimp! Beep! "Hi, honey, it's Mom. Just wanted to check in—you must be working

late tonight! Call me when you get a chance!" Ellie groaned. She couldn't face her mother tonight. Surprisingly, there was no call from Frank. She ate a solitary dinner and retired early, feeling sorry for herself. She awoke at 4 a.m. from a dead sleep, stricken. Oh no! She remembered what had been nagging at her all day. The Rinaldi contract!

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Rinaldi Corporation was a relatively new client. They had signed a deal last year to install knowledge management software developed by Ellie's company, ForeKnowledge Software. Because it was a new, breakthrough software design, Ellie agreed to put an option clause in the contract, giving Rinaldi a chance to cancel after one year for any reason. Up until that date, there would be a substantial penalty. To protect ForeKnowledge—and assuming the project was going well—a contract extension had to be signed before the year was up. It was well-known in the industry that "cutting edge" software often meant "bleeding edge," cutting into the time and profits of the first users. But the software had performed well. It should have been easy to have them re-sign, except for one small problem. That deadline had been yesterday. Ellie saw no reason for them to cancel—after the expected glitches installing the software; the company had begun to receive meaningful data during the last six months. A success here could translate into additional sales at other companies. But Ellie knew it wouldn't be so simple. Edwin Harp, Rinaldi's president, was a complete jerk. A sexist pig of the first order. She remembered the day he signed the contract, after months of negotiations. Harp kept holding the threat of going with a competitor's product over her head until she was ready to tell him to shove it. She dared not do that. Rinaldi was a small subsidiary of a huge conglomerate. A success here could lead to inroads there. Jason Cummins impressed upon her the importance of winning the deal. "You blow this Ellie, and I'll have your tits in a wringer," he had warned.  Jason tended to get crude when he felt strongly about something. She could hardly take offense—she had heard him say the same kind of thing about a salesman's cock.

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Ellie wasn't above using her charms on Harp. She’d flirted with him a little, pretending he turned her on. Meanwhile, she was thinking that if he weren’t such a big hotshot, she'd hit him with an umbrella. With his black, slicked-back hair and his oily manner, Harp oozed insincerity. Everything had a price to him and he had his eye on Ellie. She recalled the moment just before he’d put his signature on the contract a year ago. He had smiled his unctuous smile and told her how pretty she was. "You're the reason I'd even consider using your untested product," he had said. He mentioned a competitor's name again, just to keep her on edge. "Their sales rep, Jim Bowens, offered me quite an attractive proposal," he continued. "But their salesman isn't nearly as cute as you." Harp had leaned in and touched her face. She had steeled herself and had not pulled away, all the while telling him of the attributes of their software. How far would she go to win this account? It was a small account—her commission would be less than three thousand. But there could be tens of thousands later. Hang in there, Ellie!

When he’d dropped his hand to her breast, she’d wanted to punch him. Instead, she’d grabbed his hand and held it to her and said: "If you sign, I'll let you feel it." Harp had stared, then nodded quickly, his head bobbing up and down. That's it? That's all he wants? She kept her face blank, but inside, she’d raised a

fist triumphantly into the air. Letting this man get his cheap thrills was an easy way to outmaneuver the competition. Take that, Jim Bowens! What if Harp had been gay? Would Bowens have stood for him stroking the salesman's cock in exchange for a deal? Not bloody likely. Using a man's sexual nature against him was a technique Ellie wasn't ashamed to use to win the sale. Ellie had sat and let Harp reach out and stroke her left breast. She hadn’t stopped him when he unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse and slipped his hand inside.

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When he had felt her up to his satisfaction, Harp had signed. Unfortunately, now it could all come undone because she missed a silly deadline. A deadline she'd had on her calendar for months! Ellie showered and dressed and was in the office by 5:30. She pulled the Rinaldi contract and read it carefully. Yes, the deadline was yesterday. Yes, Harp had the right to cancel it now without penalty. There was a form he had to sign to continue the agreement as is. Maybe he didn't realize the deadline had passed. She could call him first thing and tell him she'd send someone in to get his signature on the renewal. It was a thin hope, she knew, for she had called him a month ago to remind him. She waited until 8:30 to call. She caught him before his first meeting of the day. "Mr. Harp? Hi, Ellie Martinson here from ForeKnowledge Software. Since the project's going so well for you, I wanted to send a courier over today to get your signature on the option renewal." "Gee, Ellie, according to my copy of the contract here in front of me, that deadline has passed." Ellie heart sank. The bastard! He was just waiting for a slipup like this. "Um. I'm sure it won't matter if you sign it a day—" "Not so fast, Ellie. Why, I had Jim Bowens in my office just last week, asking if I was going to renew with ForeKnowledge or go with—how did he put it?—a more 'professional, experienced' firm. I'll tell you, Ellie, he made a good case. I'm  just not sure, now that I have complete freedom to choose." She gritted her teeth. "Mr. Harp, you wouldn't want to do that. Think of all the progress you've made in the last six months. All that data would be lost. You'd essentially be starting over." "Well, you know I went out on a limb to use your firm, Ellie." She hated his constant reference to her given name. She preferred Ms. Martinson. "I don't think my board would object if I told them it just didn't work out."

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"But think of the money you've already spent." Even as she spoke, Ellie's mind was reeling. To lose this contract now would send the wrong message to potential clients. They would not see this as a creep trying to extort a female sales rep, but as an indictment of their product. Ellie could visualize the expression on Jason's face when he found out she had lost Rinaldi. "Perhaps we can work something out," he was saying. Here it comes, she thought. "Why don't you come to my office, say, 5:30 tonight and we'll go over the paperwork." Ellie knew what that meant. She wondered what she'd have to give up to make him sign. Suddenly, she didn't feel so proud that she had used her female charms to get what she wanted. "I'll be there, Mr. Harp."

***** At 5:25, Ellie rode up in the elevator to the 16th floor, a briefcase at her side. She was dressed conservatively in a dark business suit, a white blouse and oneinch heels. Her hair was up in a bun. She looked every bit the professional. She was grateful that Jason hadn't stumbled onto the fact that the renewal hadn't yet been signed. He had come in like a force of nature about 11 a.m., fresh from the airport, and scowling at all the problems that remained to be resolved upon his return. She was determined to show him the signed document when he asked. Exiting the elevator, Ellie saw the lobby area for Rinaldi was deserted. Everyone's gone home except for one slimy, horny man. She knew it was no

coincidence. Before she had a chance to call out, Harp came breezing in from the back hallway. "Ellie! So nice to see you! You look marvelous."

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She winced at his bad Billy Crystal impression. She forced a grin and shook his hand. Immediately, she brought out the papers. "We can finish this up quickly—" "Oh, no! Let's go back into my office where we can be more comfortable," he said, leading the way. Ellie had no choice but to follow. All of the cubicles on either side were deserted, lights dimmed. Inside his spacious corner office, Harp closed the door. "Now, how about a drink?" She shook her head. "I can't stay, Mr. Harp, I've—" "Can't stay long enough to see the contract signed? That's up to you, I suppose." He was clearly enjoying this. "What I meant to say, Mr. Harp, is that I've got a dinner engagement," she lied. "So I can't stay too long. You can see that the terms of the agreement haven't changed. You've said you're satisfied with the software. So, if you could just sign this, I'll be on my way." Harp looked her up and down. "You're a real bottom-line kinda gal, aren't you?" Ellie just stared at him, wondering what it would take this time to win the contract. "Let me tell you how it is, just so you know that I know. I've got a 'friend' at your company. This friend tells me your boss Cummins doesn't yet know you missed the option deadline. And once he does, the shit, pardon my French, will really hit the fan." A bolt of anger gripped Ellie's stomach. Who told him that? She had a mind to go back and rip some heads off. "Why, I think you've been misinformed," she lied smoothly. "Mr. Cummins doesn't take a personal interest in every small account—" "Ha!" His bark of a laugh cut her off in mid-sentence. "Let's not play games here, Ellie. Cummins and you both know what the contract represents. If you do

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well here, I might even recommend your software to my parent corporation.  Jason would certainly be paying attention to this 'small contract' as you put it." Ellie felt she was being outmaneuvered. "What do you want?" He smiled an oily smile. "Last time, I only got a feel of your beautiful breasts. This time, I want more. Much more." She stood abruptly. "I'm not going to fuck you for this contract, Mr. Harp." He grabbed her upper arm as she started for the door. "Now that we know the parameters of our negotiations, let's get down to business." Ellie left an hour later, the signed contract in her briefcase. She was a mixture of conflicting emotions. She was humiliated and exhilarated. Furious and thrilled. Cheapened and empowered. She was fully aware that no one could ever know the lengths she had gone to earn Harp's signature. She would be the laughingstock of the office. Ellie could hear the comments now: "There goes Ellie, she'll do anything for a deal." "Maybe you should stop calling it a commission and call it, 'payment for services,' huh?" "Can you deduct condoms as a business expense?" No, she hadn't fucked the slimy bastard. But the memory of her on her knees, blouse unbuttoned, breasts exposed, sucking on the man's cock would stay with her forever. She had a bad taste in her mouth that a bottle of scotch wouldn't wash away. Still, she was saved. Her boss would be pleased. New contracts would flow from this. She'd make more money. She was a woman who wasn't afraid to use sex as a bargaining chip, just like a man. And yet, Ellie was plagued by doubts. She was disturbed by the way she was living her life. It's not easy being a tough woman, she thought. There were too many compromises. Why do I have to be in control every minute?

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Chapter 3 That night, the stranger again entered Ellie's apartment carrying a small black bag. It was 3 a.m. He had taken the precaution of dissolving a sleeping agent into a half-bottle of wine he found in the refrigerator the day before. He had been in her apartment many times, all the better to get to know her. He always wore gloves so he would leave no fingerprints. He liked to explore in order to be intimate with his women before they even knew he existed. He was a very careful man, despite the pressure to hurry. After all, he had many orders to fill. Now, with the sounds of Ellie snoring softly in the next room, the dark stranger moved confidently through the townhouse, stepping easily around the furniture. He went first to the kitchen—as he had hoped, the empty wine bottle sat on the counter. Good. He had time now. He took the bottle with him so no trace would be left of the drug. He went to the bedroom and checked on the lovely woman. His woman now. One of many. He spent a few precious seconds admiring the rise and fall of her breasts through her nightie, then moved past her to the small bathroom. He knew exactly what he needed here. Opening the medicine cabinet, the man took out the round plastic container of birth control pills and slipped it into the bag. Below the sink, he found the small paper bag containing the refills and put them in too. He took the toothbrush and toothpaste. Returning to the bedroom, he leaned over Ellie and checked her pulse. Slow and steady. The dosage had been correct. She should wake up in about six hours, refreshed and ready to begin her new life. He was about to gather her up in the blanket when he remembered one more chore. He moved, catlike, to the living room, reached under the coffee table and removed the sophisticated bug he had planted there a few weeks before. That

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went into the bag as well. He paused then, turning slowly around, mentally checking everything on his list. Good. In the bedroom, he gripped the bag in his teeth and squatted down to pick up the sleeping form. Her scent intoxicated him, made him hard. This was the first time he had been so close to her. Only once had he dared to walk by her when she was on her way to lunch, and in that fleeting moment he could only catch a whiff of her perfume. It wasn't the perfume he was really after—he needed her true scent; musky, sweet and full of promise. He straightened up, holding her and the blanket. He didn't want her to catch cold, what with winter coming on. She weighed almost nothing in his arms. She was as light as the tune in his heart, an old Lovin' Spoonful song he sang whenever he consummated his hunts:

What a day for a daydream What a day for a daydreamin' boy Now I'm lost in a daydream, Dreamin' about my bundle of joy.

Now, only one final step remained. At the front door, he eased it open a crack and peered out. The parking lot at this hour was deserted. He opened it wider, and checked for lights in nearby apartments; in case an insomniac was pacing near a window. Nothing. Confident, he stepped out, Ellie in his arms, and strode quickly to his car. With his thumb, he pressed the button on his key ring and the sliding door of the minivan opened. Ah, how he loved modern technology! The man had canted the seat back in preparation for this ride, so it was easy for him to place her on the closest seat and lay her back. He carefully fastened her seatbelt. "Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself in an accident," he murmured. Ellie's soft breathing was her only response.

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He closed the door carefully, then shut the front door of her apartment. There was no need to lock it. She wouldn't be coming back anytime soon. The man got into his car and, with one final look at his prize, started the motor and drove smoothly into the night.

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Chapter 4 Ellie woke up in near darkness, illuminated only by a single candle across the room. She was lying on a soft rug, her hands fastened behind her. The room was warm, which was good because she was naked. Terrified, she tried to struggle to her feet, and heard the distinct sound of a chain rattling. The chain was fastened to a ring on a leather cuff around her right ankle. She noticed she had cuffs on both ankles and, she could tell, on both wrists. From the slight constriction around her neck, she believed she was wearing a collar too. Her heart thudded in her chest. What's happening to me? She squatted down to examine the chain and found it was securely locked to her leg. The other end ran down into a hole in the floor—there was no way to escape from it without a key. There was very little slack; she could step with her free foot, but that was the limit of her movement. As she did, her left foot banged against something metal. She started at the sound, then moved closer to investigate. It was a simple metal bucket, she could tell in the dim light, dented on two sides to make a pouring spout. She fought panic. "Hello!" she shouted into the emptiness. She was intelligent enough to realize that whomever had put her down here had done so on purpose, and was unlikely to help her, but she couldn't stop herself from shouting out another frantic plea. "Hello!" There was no response. Wide-eyed, she took a deep breath. She couldn't remember how she had gotten here. The last memory she had was of her apartment. After that, there were just images: a face, leaning in close to her; the sound of a car; someone holding her. Did I drink too much? she wondered. What happened? Where am I? An hour passed by, a frightening, horrific hour that seemed to drag on for days. Unable to move very far, Ellie could do nothing but think…and terrify herself with a thousand different scenarios of what might become of her down in

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this…place. She cried softly to herself, praying whomever it was that had taken her would let her live. Another hour passed by and her normal bodily functions began to kick in. Her mouth was cotton-dry, yet she realized she had to pee. She ignored it for the moment and took stock of her surroundings. The dim room was rectangular in shape, about 12 by 10, with wall-to-wall carpeting. There were large mirrors on two sides, mounted low so even in the dim light she could see herself as a captive, debased and subjugated. Ellie was chained in the center, near a thick wooden post that rose out of the floor. On one wall, a solid oak door was the only way out. Next to it stood a small table to hold the single candle. She was sweating now, both from nerves and from the heat. It must be 85 degrees in here, maybe more, she thought. Her mind returned to her urgent need to pee and she wondered if someone would come soon to release her and let her get cleaned up. "Hello!" she shouted. "Can anybody hear me?" Her eye wandered back to the pail and it dawned on her that that was probably her "bathroom." She edged closer and took a whiff—sure enough, the faint but pungent odor of urine and feces came back at her, even though it was empty. Fear and revulsion made her gag. Questions raced across her consciousness. Who is holding me here? Why me? What do they want? When can I go? She resisted using the bucket for another hour because the idea was so gross and humiliating. Finally, however, her bladder threatened to burst. No one had responded to her shouts. Giving in, she squatted over the bucket and let loose her stream. God! It was hard to do with her hands behind her. Still, she felt so much better, despite the degradation she endured. She had to look away from the mirrors to avoid seeing herself squatting like an animal. Afterwards, she moved as far away from the bucket as she could and lay down, exhausted. Soon she was asleep.

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A noise woke her. The door was opening! Ellie's mouth was still dry. She spoke right up as soon as the figure appeared at the far end of the room. It was hard to see who it was. She was angry, but overwhelming even that powerful emotion was fear. Ellie knew she would have to tread carefully to figure out what was going on here. "Please," she gasped. "Please help me! Untie my hands! I'm dying here." The figure approached, carrying another candle in one hand. Ellie could see it was a young Asian woman, naked just like herself, wearing the same cuffs and collar as she had on. She was petite and had spiky dark hair. She looked like a pixie. She stood about 5-foot-2, a good five inches shorter than Ellie, and had small breasts. The woman didn't say anything, but Ellie noticed right away in her other hand she was carrying a pail with a ladle in it—water! "Oh, yes, please—I need water! Please!" The pixie stopped just out of reach, and placed the pail by her feet. She put the candle down near one of the mirrors, balanced on a heavy holder. Ellie could see much more clearly now. The girl approached Ellie and placed her hands behind her back and slowly dropped to her knees, keeping them well apart. Ellie could see that the woman had no hair between her legs. Her back was straight. She opened her mouth slightly and looked down at Ellie's feet. What the hell? Ellie thought. The girl lifted the bucket and pantomimed

giving Ellie a ladle of water. Then she stopped. Ellie was confused. What was she trying to say? "What are you doing?" she asked. "Who are you? Can I have some water?" The woman just stared at her for a few more seconds, then sighed and stood. Without a word, and ignoring Ellie's entreaties, she left. The door slammed ominously behind her. Ellie cried. She cursed. Her dry throat ached. Why didn't the girl give me some water? What the hell was wrong with her? She slumped to the ground, her

shoulders shaking.

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Two hours later, the scene was repeated. Pixie came in with the bucket and stopped just outside Ellie's range of motion, then dropped to her knees, her hands clasped behind her. Again, her mouth opened slightly and she looked down. By now, her raging thirst made her much more alert, and Ellie suddenly realized she was supposed to mimic the girl's actions. So she dropped to her knees, careful to keep them apart, then opened her mouth slightly and looked down at Pixie's feet. They stayed like that for several seconds; then the woman reached over and took a ladleful of water out of the bucket, leaned in and placed it to Ellie's lips. She drank gratefully. "Thanks. Now—," she said after her first sip. The girl just shook her head as if to say, "Quiet." Now that they were so close, Ellie recognized a small flat object that the girl held in her hand: birth control pills. The girl opened the case and showed it to her. Suddenly, Ellie's heart began to race—they were her  pills! She remembered she was on day six of the prescription, the same as these. She looked up at the pixie, her anger momentarily overriding her fear. "What the hell is this?" The girl took the next pill out of the case and held it out for Ellie. Ellie didn't know what to do. She wanted to reach out and rip this pixie's spine out, yet that would not get her unchained even if her arms were free. Should she take the pill and protect herself from pregnancy or refuse on principle? The latter didn't seem like much of a choice. Ellie fully expected to be raped while she was being held here—why risk pregnancy? She leaned forward slightly and allowed the girl to place the pill in her mouth. Ellie was rewarded with another drink of water. The woman rose, gathered the pills and the pail and headed toward the door. "Wait," Ellie couldn't help herself. "Tell me what's going on!" The woman ignored her and left, the door thudding solidly behind her.

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This scene was repeated the next day, although for Ellie, there was no "

"

difference between day and night. She measured time by the candles and the pangs of thirst and hunger. When Pixie entered, she replaced the shortened candles with fresh ones, then approached Ellie with the bucket of water. This time, Ellie immediately dropped into position and was rewarded with another drink and another pill. Before the woman could leave, however, Ellie whispered: "Please help me!" She paid no attention. When the door closed, Ellie wept anew.

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Chapter 5 Hours later, a noise woke her. The door opened and Ellie looked up, expecting to see Pixie again. Instead, a man entered, carrying something. She was instantly terrified, and yet she thought she might be able to use her sex as a weapon. It had worked with Harp, why not with this man? He was a large man, dressed in some kind of cloth and leather outfit—Ellie had never seen anything like it. Broad leather bands like suspenders went over his shoulders. Her embarrassment at being naked suddenly became acute. With her hands tied behind her, it was impossible for her to cover up. She judged the man to be in his mid-30s. He was tall, a little over six feet, and broad-shouldered. His hair was dark and thick, although his body was not overly hairy. He walked with a feline grace. Put him in slacks and a dress shirt and most girls would call him handsome. To Ellie, trapped here, he appeared far more menacing. As he approached, she noticed two things simultaneously. Her eyes were drawn to his groin, where his large, flaccid member was exposed, rather than hidden by the outfit. Before that could fully register, her nose smelled food. Food! She was starving. The man was bringing her food! She stood there dumbly, trying to process what was happening. Above all, she knew she needed to eat. Ellie tried to concentrate. He stopped in front of her. She scrambled to her knees, her embarrassment forgotten. She looked down for a moment, then brought her eyes up to his face. It was a hard face, but she saw intelligence there behind the eyes. "Please," she said to him, "I'm really hungry." He stared at her, scowling. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left. "NOO!" she cried, watching her meal disappear. The door slammed.

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She looked at herself in the mirrors and saw a bedraggled and terrified woman looking back. She squared her shoulders and put her head up as if to say, I'll get out of this! She wished she felt so confident.

Her stomach growled all night. She had never been this hungry before. Ellie bounced between terror and fury over her confinement. In retrospect, she knew what she had done wrong—she had dared to speak to him. She was supposed to have done what Pixie taught her to do, be silent and grateful. How could she be so stupid? The woman came in next, and Ellie dutifully dropped to her knees, her mouth ajar and eyes downcast. She was rewarded with another drink, which she greedily lapped up. What she really wanted was food. A bath wouldn't be bad either, she thought—she smelled bad, even to herself. Her hair was getting greasy. This time, having learned what would keep her from food and water, she didn't bother to talk to the girl and was startled when Pixie reached out and touched Ellie's left breast, gently. The touch frightened Ellie and she almost said something, but caution stilled her tongue. A few hours later, when the man entered again, Ellie was ready. She got to her knees, legs apart, back erect and looked down, mouth open slightly. He grunted his pleasure and came close to her. She shivered but did not move. Ellie could feel her nipples harden, which surprised her. Maybe it's because I'm looking right at his cock, she thought. Under her gaze, the cock twitched and stiffened a bit. The man seemed to pay no other attention to her nakedness. At the edge of her vision, she could see him unwrapping the plate of food. She smelled turkey meat. With his hands, he ripped off a bite-sized piece and held it to her mouth. She took it carefully and chewed. It tasted delicious after so long without food.

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He was gentle as he fed her. Occasionally, he would reach out and touch her breasts, just as the girl had done. Ellie shivered, but did not pull away. She would rather eat, she decided. Afterwards, as he gathered up the plate and stood, Ellie desperately wanted to ask him all the questions that filled her head: Where am I? How long will I be here? What do you want with me? Could I at least get washed up? Brush my teeth? She

said nothing. There didn't seem to be any point. No one had said a word to her since she had awakened a few days ago. Now each time they fed or watered her, the man or woman would touch her. First just the breasts, then her ass, later the soft down of her mound and later still, they'd run their fingers up her cleft. She made no effort to stop them for these touches were the only times she felt human. They were the only occasions anyone communicated with her, even if it was done in silence with caresses instead of words. Otherwise, without being touched, she was just an animal. A smelly, greasy, half-crazed animal… Ellie knew she stank badly by now and wondered why they didn't let her wash or brush her teeth. Her dark blonde hair hung limply by her face, matted with grease. She hated to look at her own reflection. The bucket was slowly filling with her wastes—since she had been given solid food, she couldn't help but have to squat over the bucket to expel her bowels. The odor was overpowering. She was used to it by now, but she imagined it wasn't pleasant for her keepers to come in and smell it while feeding her. Above all, Ellie felt an overwhelming despair. She huddled on the rug night after night and worried that no one was missing her, no one was looking for her. Most nights, she cried herself to sleep.

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Chapter 6 After a few more days of the same monotonous and stressful treatment, Ellie heard the door open and saw both the man and the woman enter. What was this? She immediately assumed the position and waited. The girl picked up the bucket of waste and left the room. The man just stood there, watching her for a moment. Ellie saw he had a whip in one hand. She didn't think she could be more scared, but this caused her heart to race anew. She waited, half expecting him to beat her, sweat collecting on her skin. She wanted to cry, to crawl away. There was no place to go. The girl returned with an empty bucket. The man handed the young woman a key and she stepped forward to unlock Ellie's ankle chain. The man stood aside as the woman helped Ellie to her feet. They were taking her out! Were they going g oing to let her go? Somehow, she doubted that. With Pixie on one elbow, helping to guide her, and the man behind to watch her, the trio left the room and turned right, down a corridor. There was more light here, from sconces set high up on the walls. Ellie stumbled along, her muscles aching. "Where are we going?" she asked. She tried her best "executive woman" voice. "Dammit! I demand to know what's going on!" There was a sharp crack and she flinched from the pain. Her ass burned. Clearly anger wasn't a productive emotion to have. They turned into a room that had tiles on the floors and walls and Ellie's heart leapt at the thought that they were going to bathe her. She was also wary. By now she knew that every act of kindness came at a price—what was the price of a bath? They brought her over to a chair and sat her down in it. Using short lengths of leather straps, the man fastened both her ankles to the chair legs. As she

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watched him, she noticed the chair was bolted to the floor. So much for the idea of bashing him over the head, she thought. The girl brought over a mirror stand and set it up in front of her. In the brighter lights of the shower room, she didn't recognize the woman in the mirror—she was pale and bedraggled, with tangled, greasy blonde hair. She looked like a bag lady. Or an animal. When the man was sure Ellie was well secured, he unclipped her wrists and for the first time in days, she was able to move her hands to her front. "Ow! Ow!" The word was forced out of her. Her shoulder muscles screamed. They allowed her several minutes to shake out the stiffness. Pixie stroked her breasts the entire time and, although Ellie had never entertained lesbian feelings before—and still didn't—she found her body responding to this small act of kindness. She was grateful for any kind of attention. Like a dog being petted, she thought grimly. Why won't they talk to me?

The man stepped away for a moment and Ellie heard the glorious sound of a shower being turned on. When he returned, steam billowed out behind him from the adjacent room. Thank god! They were going to let her shower! But why was she tied to this chair? The answer came in moments when the man handed a startled Ellie an electric trimmer, like you'd see in a barbershop. Pixie stopped her stroking, reached up and pulled Ellie's lank hair away from her head, clearly miming what she was supposed to do. "You want me to cut my hair off?" she asked, aghast. The girl nodded and looked over meaningfully toward the steaming shower area. The point was clear—her hair for a shower. Her hair was all tangled up and filthy, and she desperately wanted to be clean, yet it seemed like such a terrible tradeoff. She was proud of her long blonde hair, even if she did have to fake some of the blonde.

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Ellie knew if she refused, there would be some terrible punishment. She couldn't stand that. She began to cry, shoulders shaking. She looked in the mirror, sobbing, and carefully began to run the buzzing trimmer along her scalp. Great hunks of greasy hair fell away. She sobbed harder now—she couldn't help herself. They were so cruel! The trimmer was powerful and within minutes, Ellie's head was reduced to short bristles of dark blonde hair. In the mirror she looked like "G.I. Jane." She felt raped. The man stepped forward and unlocked her ankles from the chair and removed her leather cuffs from her ankles and wrists. For a brief moment, Ellie wondered if she could break free and escape, but even those thin hopes were dashed when Pixie took a lead and clipped it from her collar to Ellie's. Now she couldn't run unless the girl ran too and that didn't seem likely. Her heart sank. The lead was only about four feet long, which kept the girls within touching distance. Pixie helped Ellie to her feet and led her to the shower room. Inside the extra-large stall, the girl adjusted the temperature until it was perfect, then pulled Ellie into the spray with her. Clearly, they were going to wash together. She soaped Ellie up head to toe, taking great pains to clean her ass and her cleft. Ellie returned the favor, washing the girl, feeling a woman's soft body with her hands for the first time. It felt good after being deprived of human contact for so many days. They spent a good half-hour there, washing and smiling at each other, but never speaking over the noise of the spray. After Pixie turned the water off, the two women returned to the other room, where the man had two towels ready for them. They dried each other off, almost playfully. The towel felt funny on her nearly bald head, but she was glad to be clean. The girl gave her a toothbrush and toothpaste that Ellie recognized as hers—they had taken them from my apartment! At this point it didn't matter—she was happy to brush her teeth. She spent several minutes bent over the sink, relishing this small pleasure.

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Afterward, the girl unhooked the lead between them just as the man grabbed Ellie's arms and began buckling on the leather bracelets. Her shoulders ached at the thought of having her arms behind her again. "Oh, please, I won't try to escape, please don't tie my hands back there again," she cried out. The man looked at her, then at the girl, as if deciding, his bushy eyebrows knitted in thought. His face was an unreadable mask. Ellie dared not say anything further. She wondered what the price would be this time? So she just stood there, her mouth slightly open, her eyes downcast and waited. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the girl doing the same thing and knew that she was just as cowed as Ellie was. The girl was probably a captive like her; only she had been well trained. The man waved a hand and the girl scampered off. In seconds, she had returned with something. The man led Ellie back to the chair and sat her down, then reached out and pushed her legs apart. She complied, not understanding, but powerless to refuse him. He could rape her if he chose, she thought, and wondered why he hadn't already. Oddly, she didn't get upset over that thought. Not because she wanted it, but because she'd been down here so long with minimal human contact, minimal food and water, and she supposed almost nothing—save the prospect of being put to death —could shake her up at this point. Besides, she had known for weeks that rape was inevitable, that he would take her and she was powerless to do anything about it. From the moment Pixie had fed her the birth control pills, she had known. And she'd had many long, endless, horrific days to accept that as her fate. The brooding man refastened her ankle cuffs, then clipped them to the outside of the chair legs. Then he pushed the small of her back, forcing her to the edge of the seat, causing her legs to widen even more. Pixie handed Ellie something and then she understood. She was holding a can of shaving cream and a safety razor. She looked at the girl, and she nodded.

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The meaning was clear—in exchange for not having her arms tied behind her, she had to shave the hair from her mound. It would be humiliating to sit here in front of these two and shave her private parts, yet Ellie knew if she didn't she might have her hands bound behind her for several more days. That definitely would be worse. Ellie squirted some shaving cream into the palm of her hand and rubbed it over her soft dark fur that was still wet from the shower. Taking the razor, she began at the edges, carefully shaving away the hair. The girl was on her knees, right in front of Ellie's open legs, staring intently at her emerging skin, while the man stood just behind her, one hand absently on his cock. It was swelling quickly, Ellie noticed. Once, Pixie turned her head, and noticed him as well. She finally finished, leaving her mound bare and gleaming. The girl took the razor from her and put it aside, then did something unexpected. She stood in front of Ellie, giving her a flash of her own shaved cunt, then leaned over and grabbed onto the chair seat between Ellie's legs, placing her head low, just about even with Ellie's breasts. Ellie was startled and put her hands on the girl's back, as if to help her up, but then she saw why she had done that. The man had moved up behind her and was aiming his now erect cock at her opening. Pixie spread her legs apart, giving him easy access. Without a word, he thrust into her, pushing her head into Ellie's breasts. Ellie watched, fascinated, as the man pounded into the young girl, each time forcing the girl into Ellie's chest. Finally, she braced her hands on Pixie's shoulders, to hold her while the man fucked her. With a grunt, the man came inside her, holding her tight against him for a minute, then pulled out. Immediately, the young woman turned and dropped to her knees, taking the now-flaccid cock into her mouth to clean it. Ellie watched in voyeuristic horror. She knew she was being trained like this girl. Looking down between the Pixie's legs, she saw the man's spunk dribbling out of her vagina to splatter on the tile floor.

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After she was finished, the man released Ellie from the chair, then clipped her wrists together in front. It made a huge difference in her comfort level. Shaving herself had been worth it. The pair let Ellie back to her room and chained her up.

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Chapter 7 The hours and days ran together for Ellie. When she had first arrived, she was mostly terrified. Now, with no one to talk to and nothing to do to pass the time, her anxiety had faded, replaced by overwhelming boredom. She found herself anticipating the next event, anxious to win new rewards. In effect, she was the catalyst of her own training pace. She was allowed to shower every other day, as long as she sat in the chair and shaved her mound in front of them. They didn't require her to shave her head again, for which she was grateful. Shaving her privates was a small tradeoff, so she obliged. Often, the girl would get fucked afterwards, either like before, braced against the chair, or else with the girl bent over the back of the chair, her ass in the air for the brute. Ellie would be chained to an eyebolt on a wall nearby. He clearly wanted Ellie to see this, yet he hadn't tried to rape her—so far. Watching the two of them aroused Ellie, despite herself. Although Pixie was a slave like Ellie, she really seemed to enjoy the hard cock of her master. She came regularly—and loudly—every time he fucked her. One day, the man entered, followed by the woman carrying a small padded stool, and approached her. Ellie scrambled to her knees, eyes downcast. It wasn't feeding time, she had been given a drink and her pill recently and her shower wouldn't happen until tomorrow. So this was something new. The man came near and put his fingers underneath Ellie's chin, forcing her head up. He gazed into her eyes. She swallowed nervously. Inexplicably, she found herself drawn to him, or perhaps to just being noticed, being treated as a human for the first time in what felt like forever. While she was looking at him, Pixie came around behind her, reached around and began pushing something into her mouth. Ellie fought her off, afraid of what she was doing. The girl stepped back immediately.

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Ellie knew at once that she had angered the man. His face darkened. He clipped a lead to the back of her collar, then hauled her over to the wooden post and fastened it so her back was pinned against it, her knees on the rug. He took another lead from his pocket and connected her ankles together behind the post. Then he unclipped the wrist cuffs from in front and fastened them around the post behind her. It was an awkward position, one that would soon be painful. "I'm sorry," she said immediately. "I didn't know what she was doing. I won't fight her again." He ignored her. From a pocket, he produced something small. He leaned in and she felt him rub her left nipple, causing it to distend despite her fear. Suddenly, there came a sharp pain. She looked down as best she could with her neck pinned and saw that he had clipped a clamp onto her outthrust nipple. Another one followed on her right nipple. A chain connected the two. She cried out. "Please, I beg you. I'll be good. I'll be good." Without another word, they both turned and left. Ellie was alone in her torment. The pain in her nipples soon diminished to a dull ache, but it was replaced by the cramps in her leg and arm muscles. Oh, god! Why did I fight the  girl, she kept asking herself. I won't do it again, I promise, I promise.

She was left there for a few hours—it was hard for her to gauge time. When they finally returned; her muscles ached, her mouth was dry and her nipples throbbed. When the man removed the nipple clamps, Ellie cried as the blood flowed back into them. He removed her from the post and she sagged down like a jellyfish, unable to support herself. The man reclipped her arms behind her while she lay groaning on the rug. They stood there, watching, not saying a word as usual. Ellie knew they were waiting to see how obedient she was going to be. After a few minutes, she struggled to her knees, her eyes down, mouth slightly open. She was ready for whatever they had in mind. Again the girl came around behind her and thrust something into her mouth. Ellie opened up wide this time and let her insert the device. It was made of

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rubber where her teeth fit, with wires connecting the two halves at the back, giving the device stiffness. She had no idea of its purpose. The girl fastened it with a strap that went around the back of Ellie's neck. Ellie moved her jaw and found it reduced the ability to close her mouth. She kneeled there, mouth half ajar and saw Pixie reach up under her chin. In another second, she heard a clanking noise and realized she had fastened the chain that had been around her ankle to her collar. Apparently, they had pulled more of it from the hole in the floor. Ellie watched as the man approached her, his cock hardening. He stroked it a few times, making it stand erect and Ellie knew what she was supposed to do. This was the beginning of her rape—and she still had a large reservoir of anger toward her captor. She hated this cruel man—hated him! And suddenly, for the first time in weeks, she allowed the overwhelming hatred to bubble up to the surface, exploding. When he thrust his cock into her mouth, she did what any woman in her position would do—she bit down hard on him. She growled like the animal she had become. At first, she felt the satisfying bulge of the man's cock between her rubberized teeth, but then the device sprung open, forcing her jaws apart. She realized immediately that it was designed to protect him against such action. The man grimaced, and pulled free. For the first time, Ellie noticed he was holding a small remote control in his left hand. He pushed a button on it and the chain that was attached to her collar ratcheted into the floor, jerking her head down onto the rug. At the last second, she yanked her head to the side so she wouldn't be suffocated. As it was, the side of her face was pressed firmly down, her ass in the air. Before she could adjust her position, the girl had slipped the narrow, padded stool underneath her hips, which kept her ass up, then ran a strap over her back to fasten to the other side of the stool. Ellie tried to move away, but there was

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nowhere to go. Her arms were helpless on her back, the stool kept her ass propped up. This is it, she thought. This is where he rapes me. Instead, it was worse. She

heard a whistling sound, and a bolt of tremendous pain seared her tender ass. She screamed through her open mouth, still held wide by the device. He gave her a few seconds to appreciate the pain, then he struck again. She screamed, afraid that she would die here under the whip in the next few minutes. When he struck her the third time, she passed out. She awoke a few minutes later, but nothing had changed. As soon as her eyes opened, he struck her again, forcing another guttural cry from her abused body. She passed out again. When she returned to consciousness, he hit her again. Apparently, he was waiting until she was awake for every blow. She knew she couldn't take much more of this. She begged and cried through the device, which wasn't allowing her to form coherent words. Time after time he struck her. She lost count, but she had to guess it was eight or ten. Finally, he stopped. She was semi-conscious; her ass burned like fire. The man thrust the bucket up between her legs from the backside and Ellie knew now why the bucket was bent in that odd way—it was so lip could fit between her thighs and rest under her cunt. The girl reached down and removed the device in her mouth and they both left her there, sobbing on the rug, her head still held tight by the chain at her collar, her ass thrust in the air.

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Chapter 8 Ellie didn't know how long she lay like that, but it had to be at least a day or two. She had to relieve herself more than once into the bucket, her face burning with shame even as her ass burned with pain. Finally, she heard the door open and the girl returned, alone. She pulled the bucket clear, then unhooked the footstool. Suddenly, the chain loosened, allowing Ellie to roll to her side and breathe. "Th-th-thank you," she whispered. Pixie gave her a drink of water, then dipped a rag into the bucket and began cleaning the wastes from her tender backside. Ellie sucked in her breath, but didn't say anything. Afterwards, she rolled Ellie onto her stomach and began to rub something soothing into the welts across her ass. Soon, she began to enjoy the sensation. In fact, it was even erotic—she felt herself grow wet. She was shocked when the girl spoke to her—it was the first time she had heard a voice other than her own in weeks. "Don't fight him. He likes to hurt us," she whispered. "It's better if you just do as he says." "Wh-who are you? Why am I here? How long have you been here?" The questions poured out of her. The girl hushed her, urging her to whisper. "He may hear. He has listening devices and cameras everywhere. My name is Angie. I've been here quite awhile—I don't know how long. I was kidnapped, just like you." Ellie was shaking, shivering as if cold though her body temperature was normal. "What does he want with me?" she breathed out. "Isn't that obvious? He's making you into a sex slave, like me." Her voice, her manner seemed odd to Ellie, as though she was hollow. "But—but," she began to cry. "I don't want to be here. I've got to get out of here. I have a job, family."

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"I know. I felt the same way. But there's no escape. We're just here now and we have to make the best of it. You'll see—it's not so bad when you just do what he says." The image of Angie spreading herself for the brutal man came into her mind. "Who is he? Does he ever talk to you?" "Yes, he talks, after awhile. The only name I am allowed to call him is Master."  Master! Shit. I'll call him Butthead, she thought. "What do you mean, 'after

awhile'? When will he talk to me?" "After you're sufficiently trained." A shiver went through her and she lost control of her voice for a moment. Why me? she wondered again. "How can we get out of here? Have you found a

way?" "There is no way. We're underground and he has the only access to the surface." She paused. "It's not so bad here after you learn to obey him." Angie's almost rote response chilled Ellie. The girl was clearly broken in mind and spirit. She would be no help, although Ellie promised herself that when she escaped, she'd send the police back for her. A thought struck her. "Are there other girls here?" "Oh, yes. There are two more. They are undergoing training, just like you." "Where are they?" "In other rooms, like this. But you can't see them. They aren't ready." "How long will it be before they're 'ready'? For that matter, how long before I'm ready?" Ellie equated "ready" with a chance to escape this awful room. She would obey if it meant getting out of here. "Oh, that varies. Master has great patience. Each girl goes at her own pace. When you're ready, he'll know it.

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"I'll leave you to rest. I'll bring you some more water later," Angie said. "I'm afraid Master won't be bringing you any food for awhile. If I were you, I wouldn't try to bite him anymore." Ellie was desperate to talk now that the long silence had been broken. "How old are you anyway?" She looked off into the distance, as if trying to remember something from her past life. "I don't know. I was 19 when I got here, but that was a long time ago." Angie got up to leave. "Wait!" Ellie whispered loudly. "Can't you untie me? My arms hurt." She shook her head. "Master wouldn't like that." "Please! I'm so embarrassed. Won't I ever get something to cover myself?" Angie stared at her as if she had spoken Latin. "Slaves don't wear clothes," she finally said, as if explaining to a child Then, without another word, she turned and left. Ellie put her head down on the rug and wept.

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Chapter 9 She guessed she had been without food for at least a day when the man and the girl again entered. This time, she was ready to take his cock into her mouth. Anything rather than endure another beating. Her ass still stung from the whip. While alone, she had looked over her shoulder at herself and was shocked by the angry red lines across her ass and upper thighs. She counted seven—it had felt like twenty. This guy could easily kill her, she realized. She got to her knees and waited demurely, hands still fastened behind her. As they neared, she smelled food. She watched him carry the wrapped plate across the room. Her stomach growled. Oral sex for food, she thought to herself. She was so hungry; it seemed like a fair trade. Again, Angie put the device in her mouth. Ellie accepted it willingly, even though, in her mind, it was unnecessary. She wasn't going to bite him. When the man approached, she opened her mouth to take in his semi-erect member. His cock had a bitter taste. Combined with the rubber mouthguard, it almost made her gag. She forced herself not to think about it and began stroking the underside of his cock with her tongue. He wrapped a meaty hand behind her head and began to pump into her, pushing his cock further down her throat. Ellie had never taken someone this deep before—she was afraid she'd throw up. She fought her rising gorge and concentrated on pleasing him. His strokes increased. Now, he was fucking her mouth. His balls bounced against her chin. Panic caused her nostrils to constrict, so she could only breathe on his outstroke. Her tongue was pressed up against the underside of his cock to help increase the pressure, hoping he'd come more quickly. Suddenly, he gave a groan and thrust hard into her. Ellie felt the splashes of his seed fill her throat. She tried to swallow, but choked instead. He pulled out

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and she retched, waddling to the bucket just in time. Her stomach was empty, so she just heaved up the remains of his sperm along with her own bile. Ellie sagged down next to the bucket, knowing she'd insulted him. "I'm thorry, I'm thorry. I conna 'elp it," she gasped out through her rubberized mouth. Angie came over and removed the device, which at least hadn't sprung apart— that proved she hadn't tried to bite him. Didn't that count for something? Without a word, the man picked up the plate and left, followed by the girl. "NOOO!" Ellie screamed. "I'm sorry! I couldn't help it! I'll do better, I promise! Please!" The door slammed ominously. Ellie collapsed. The next day, weak with hunger, she was given another try to satisfy the man, with one notable exception. Angie did not insert the safety device. The meaning was clear—Ellie could bite the man if she chose and suffer the consequences. She did not want to find out what those consequences might be. No way. Besides, she could smell the food he brought and she was determined to earn it. She sat up on her knees, and opened her mouth for him like a baby bird. He grunted his approval and waved his hand at Angie. Ellie was confused for a second as Angie came up to her and stood close, her legs on either side of Ellie's knees, her naked cunt thrust close to her face. Ellie risked a look at the man as if to ask, "Is this what you want me to do?" The man just stared at her and absently rubbed his soft cock. Ah, she thought. The asshole wants a warm-up act. She was too weak, too hungry to care. She leaned in. Angie put her hands on Ellie's head and guided her into her damp pussy. Leaning forward, her arms awkwardly tied behind her, Ellie would've pitched forward without Angie's help. Ellie licked and teased the girl's slit. Angie's juices were sweet, but Ellie tasted a bitterness there that she recognized. Butthead had very recently fucked Angie, so Ellie was being given a dose of his sperm as well. Is this his way of prepping her to accept his load without hurling? She had to assume that it was—

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or else the man just got off on watching another woman clean up his spunk. She tickled the girl's clit, causing Angie to thrust her hips up to meet her. Ellie could tell Angie was well trained to be a sexual being and come quickly. A few minutes tickling Angie's clit and she came hard, gushing her juices and the man's sperm into Ellie's mouth. Ellie swallowed it dutifully. Angie pulled back and moved aside, then dropped to her knees, waiting. The man's cock was harder now, but not quite erect. Ellie opened her mouth wide for it. She could see it was shiny, probably from either Angie's cunt or tongue, depending on whether he allowed her to clean him up. When the tip of his cock entered her mouth, she could taste the girl's juices along with the bitter flavor of his cock. Nevertheless, she accepted him into her mouth, tonguing him rapidly, and trying to open up her throat for him. He was a little more gentle now. His hands behind her head weren't gripping so hard. Instead of immediately pushing himself to the back of her throat, he thrust in and out with short strokes, giving her time to adjust. Perhaps it was because he had recently come, or it might be that Ellie was more conditioned to pleasing him, but this experience with the man did not cause her to panic. She could breathe through her nose now and her empty stomach did not rebel over the onslaught. He pumped at her longer this time, but she stayed with him. His hands guided her head back and forth on his cock harder now as his climax approached. With a groan, he thrust hard, shoving his cock down her throat and came, squirting load after load into her. She swallowed and swallowed, anxious to show she could be good, that she could take what he gave her. A small amount of sperm escaped out of the corner of the mouth and ran down her chin onto one of her naked breasts.

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He stopped and pulled away. She dropped her face down and waited, hoping. Had she done okay? Was he pleased? In answer, he unwrapped the plate and began feeding her. She ate hungrily. While she ate, Angie crawled over to her and wiped up the cum off her breast and licked her fingers, then returned to stroke her breasts lovingly. It felt soothing to be touched while being fed. This was in stark contrast to Ellie's cunt, which felt abandoned, scorned. She'd been here a few weeks and not once had he tried to rape her. Was there something wrong with her? The bizarre thought shocked her—being raped was not something she wanted. She just wanted to get away, the Old Ellie told herself. But the voice of Old Ellie had to cut through the wonderful sensations of being hand-fed while having one's breasts stroked—sensations that for the Conditioned Ellie made her feel almost human again. If she didn't know better, she'd say she was aroused. When they rose, Ellie was thrilled to see the man unlock her hands from behind her and fasten them in front. "Th-thank you, thank you, sir," she gasped out while her shoulder muscles ached with relief. Angie leaned down and kissed her on the lips. Ellie returned the kiss without thinking. The pair escorted Ellie to the shower for a much-appreciated soapy session with Angie. She was pleased with herself—she had done well enough to earn shower privileges again. She was smart enough to recognize that being pleased with herself in this way meant she was participating in her own conditioning.

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Chapter 10 From that point on, food, water and shower privileges had to be earned in other ways, Ellie discovered. No longer was Angie satisfied to see Ellie simply assume the position when she came in with the water bucket. Now she had to tongue the girl's clit until she came before she would earn her drink. Ellie could see that the girl held the remote that controlled the chain, which was still attached to her neck. Any false moves or attempts to escape and her head would be jerked down to the floor, with punishment surely to follow. Ellie shuddered at the very thought. Besides, she thought, it wasn't unpleasant to satisfy this girl. She came so easily and seemed so happy with Ellie's efforts that it made her feel worthwhile. It also broke up the monotonous days. When the man arrived with her food, Ellie fully expected to give him his blowjob and found she was almost looking forward to it. Yes, it broke up the monotony. More importantly, it was the only time she felt like a human being. She was shocked when he waved her off as she reached for his cock with her bound hands. She let them fall, puzzled. He reached out and rubbed her nipple, making it stand up. Ellie could feel the juices in her cunt begin to flow. When it was fully erect, he fastened a nipple clamp to it. Ellie sucked in her breath but did not scream. He repeated the process to her other nipple. This time, Ellie couldn't help herself, "Ow, ow! Please!" The man immediately removed both clamps, for which Ellie was grateful. But her victory was short-lived—he got up, took the plate and left. Ellie resisted calling after him; it would do no good. Ellie closed her eyes in defeat and wept. Another lesson to learn. She went without food or a shower for another day, cursing herself. Only Angie came in with her water and a pill. Even without words, she was quick on

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her training by now. He wanted her to accept the clamps without complaint in order to get fed. Okay, I can do that, she said to herself. After all, she had to eat. He came back the next day and Ellie steeled herself. This time, she endured the clamps stoically. He fed her and she expected him to remove the clamps when she was finished. It didn't happen. He gathered up the remains of the dinner and left her there, clamps burning her breasts. No sooner was he out of the door then she reached up with her bound hands and unclipped them. Her nipples ached painfully for a few minutes. She told herself she would put them back on before he returned. Suddenly, the door burst open! He had been waiting out there, just so he could come back in quickly to catch her disobeying him. She froze, realizing what she had done and was terrified by his drastic retributions. The man came at her like a thundercloud, the girl trailing behind carrying something in both arms. He grabbed Ellie by the chain and unlocked it, then yanked her over to the post. Pulling her arms up over her head, he tied them off until her ass was about eighteen inches off the ground, her legs bent outward to keep her balance. Angie slid what appeared to be a small saddle under her and Ellie saw that had a narrow black dildo sticking up out of the center. Ellie was forced to lift up and straddle the object. The man pushed her down on it. It wasn't unpleasant—it was too thin to fill her completely. In fact, her cunt had been aching for days, expecting to be filled by someone sooner or later. The saddle also supported her legs so she was no longer hanging by her arms. The man then fastened a strap from the post around her waist, keeping her from standing up off the fake cock. She was confused—this was punishment? Angie ran an electric cord from the device over to a wall socket and plugged it in. She returned and, reaching to the front, flicked a switch. There must have been some kind of motor on it, for Ellie could feel the cock vibrate slightly, then undulate. The sensations were lovely. She could come very quickly, she thought.

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The man stepped in close and thumbed her nipples again, and she knew he was going to put the clamps back on. He did, but these clamps were different— they had a chain dangling from each one, ending at two more clamps. With the other ends, he reached down between her legs and fastened a clamp on each of her labial lips, pulling them upward even as the other end pulled her nipples downward. She groaned, caught up between the pain of the clamps and the pleasure of the vibrating cock. She found that if she rolled her hips forward and up, it relieved most of the pressure from her nipples and lips. But when she did that, her clit was pulled away from the vibrator. When she thrust her hips down so she could climax, her nipples and labia ached from the added strain. Checking to make sure his exquisite torture was working well, the man and the girl departed. No sooner were they out the door then the vibrator stopped, keeping her on the edge. She rotated her hips up to relieve the pressure. Ten minutes later, the vibrations and undulations started again. Ellie had no idea how long she would have to endure this punishment. She couldn't come without hurting her nipples or her nether lips. The chains pulled her lips up enough to allow her clit to fully extend. When she looked down she could see it, sticking out wantonly, less than an inch away from the narrow shaft of the pulsating cock. Sucking in her breath, she rotated her hips down, letting her clit feel the vibrations, then gasping as the chains tugged painfully on her nipples again. Just as she did, the cock stopped undulating again. "Damn!" she said aloud. She went back and forth like that for hours, trying to come, only to be frustrated by the quietening dildo or the pain from the clamps. Ellie was exhausted. She had nearly come a half-dozen times and her nipples and lips ached. The vibrating cock was more of an annoyance by now than a source of pleasure. She also had to urinate badly. She knew if she peed on the man's carpet, the punishment would probably be worse than this. She couldn't

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wait until she was freed—she could make herself come in a few seconds with her fingers. Finally, he returned. She resisted saying something stupid, like "Thank God!" or "It's about time!" and just waited there, her hips rotated up as much as possible to relieve the pressure on her nipples. He unfastened the clamps and Ellie nearly passed out from the pain. Still, she said nothing, just grimaced. He unstrapped her from the post. Her legs were so weak he had to help her up off the vibrator. It was wet with her juices. They also ran down the insides of both her legs. He flicked off the switch and set the saddle aside. The man finally untied her from the post and she practically ran to the bucket and let loose her stream, not caring that the man was watching her intently. The urine aggravated her sore cunt, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. When she was finished, she dutifully came back to the man and kneeled down, waiting. She was so horny; she almost hoped he would fuck her. She had to come! She resisted letting her fingers touch herself. The man relocked the chain to her collar, then unlocked her hands from in front of her and placed them behind her back. Damn! Now she couldn't bring herself off! The man brought the saddle over to her. He put his hand on her neck and gave her a little push. Sighing to herself, Ellie went down on the rubber cock and licked it clean. Without a word, he put the saddle out of her reach and left. Ellie's stomach growled. She eyed the black dildo hungrily. Without the clamps, she could come in a heartbeat on that device. She reached out a leg, trying to snare it, but she couldn't get close enough.

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Chapter 11 Angie came in a few hours later with water. Ellie was eagerly anticipating pleasing her now. She was such a sweet girl, so quick to come for her. Angie placed the water bucket down then stood close to the captive. Ellie dove into her bald cunt, lapping up her piquant juices. The girl came within a couple of minutes, then allowed Ellie to repeat the attention. Her cunt twitched with her need. When she had drunk her fill and swallowed her pill, she whispered to Angie, "Can you help me to come?" Angie just shook her head. "Master wouldn't like that," she whispered back. Ellie glanced at the saddle. "Well, can you at least pull that closer?" Again, Angie shook her head. "Master says you're not ready to come yet." She paused. "But I am." Angie went over and sat down on the dildo, letting it fill her up. She reached down and turned it on. Ellie watched her have orgasm after orgasm for the next 15 minutes, nearly crying out from the envy she felt. Conditioned. Her mind wasn't as far gone as Angie's, but she knew she was being conditioned. Finally, the girl pulled herself up and shut it off. Then she went down on the black member, cleaning it with her tongue, just as Ellie had done a few hours earlier. More training, she thought—whoever or whatever you fuck, you clean it up afterwards with your mouth. The man finally returned with the food. Ellie kneeled down, wondering what she would have to do to earn it—more nipple clamps? Her nipples still ached from her long session. The man seemed to know this and didn't touch her breasts. Instead, he reached down with his right hand and worked two fingers into her wet, hungry cunt. She gasped, then tried to be silent as he stroked inside her. She thought she might be able to come quickly.

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He pulled his fingers out too soon, reached over to the plate and took a piece of meat, then held it to her mouth. She could smell her scent on his fingers as she took the bite. He kept his fingers near her lips, making sure she licked them before he pulled away. He repeated the process. Cunt, food, mouth—lick. Cunt, food, mouth—lick. It was a mantra for her. She was on edge. By the time she finished, she couldn't tell the taste of her food from her cunt. Both were delicious—more training, she thought. Afterwards, he fucked her mouth. His cock was cleaner this time, she noticed, so it didn't have that musty smell like someone's old jockstrap. Her cunt throbbed as she kneeled there, legs apart, letting him thrust into her throat. He came and she almost came as well, feeling his spunk fill her mouth, swallowing it. She wanted to feel it in her womb, despite her hatred of this man and his dark, forbidding dungeon. When he left, she almost called out to him, begging him to allow her to come. Still, a part of her stopped her. She was clinging desperately to who she had been before arriving here. The tall, strong, confident Ellie was eroding. This new Ellie was much more humble, more dependent. She couldn't deny her need now. Sitting on the rug, with her legs wide apart and her right leg bent, she tried to press her heel against her clit and climax, but was frustrated yet again. The saddle remained to torment Ellie. Angie used it regularly, teasing her as she came repeatedly. She replaced the thin dildo with a larger one, more like the man's cock, Ellie noticed. Often, when the man entered with the girl, she would drop down on the rug right in front of Ellie and let him fuck her. Angie clearly enjoyed it—she came many times while Ellie watched, scorned and horny. They varied the positions: Sometimes she would place her head low, ass up and they'd go at it doggie-style. Other times, Angie would lie on her back, lift her legs up to her breasts, then rest them against the man's broad chest when he plunged into her. The constant fucking and sucking—and Angie’s loud orgasms—were having their effect on Ellie.

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The man apparently knew this too—whenever they came in to put on a show for her, he would unclasp her hands from behind her and clasp them in front. The first time, she automatically tried to touch herself and the man yanked her hand away, his face scowling. She knew that if she masturbated, he would punish her. So she had to watch them, her cunt aching with need, while her relief was just inches away. She wasn't stupid—she knew what was going on. He was conditioning her to want his cock. Only his cock could end her torment. But why, then, didn't he rape her and get it over with?

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Chapter 12 Ellie simply couldn't stand it anymore. She had endured too many sex acts in front of her with no relief. One day, when the man fastened her hands in front of her just before he was about to fuck Angie again, Ellie turned sideways, dropped her head down to the rug and a nd thrust her ass up into the air. Her meaning was very clear— fuck me, you bastard, fuck me! Angie, who was in a similar position, froze, staring at her. The man, for the first time since Ellie arrived, smiled. He came over to her and she was sure he was going to satisfy her overwhelming need. Instead, he reached down and began stroking her ass. Ellie melted. When his hands drew closer to her core, she knew that her orgasm was coming. Please don't stop! she begged inwardly. The new Ellie was pushing the old Ellie aside in her

thirst for release. His fingers brushed her clit and she exploded in the most powerful orgasm of her life. She bellowed, she cried, she shook from the depth of it. The man stepped back and watched her climax slowly ebb. Ellie calmed finally and waited for him to thrust into her, to bring her back up to the heights of ecstasy. Instead, he moved away. Ellie's cunt ached. The man returned to Angie and hovered over her soft round ass, his cock rock hard, as if tormenting Ellie. Then he pounded her cute little cunt. The girl had her face toward her and Ellie thought she saw Angie smiling as if to say, "Ha, ha—he's fucking me, not you." Despite her horniness, she was amazed at how well conditioned Angie had become—to the point of being jealous over a new captive. Oh, god—I don't ever want to be like that!

With her hands tied behind her again when she was alone, Ellie knew that the only way she could come was at the "master's" hands. Sometimes, Sometimes, he allowed

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her to have her hands in front at night, but he always fastened them to the collar. He didn't want her to slip. He would fastened her hands in front before every session with the girl, and Ellie took that as her signal to turn toward him with her head down and her ass up. Since that first day, he had avoided letting her climax. By now, her mind was consumed by sex. Her clitoris buzzed constantly. The man did not change his indoctrination. Ellie was still subjected to watching the almost daily sex with Angie. Every time the man entered the room, Ellie assumed the position, thinking that this might be the day. Her cunt dripped in anticipation. Yet the man continued to ignore her need. The lips of her cunt were swollen and reddened. She thought she might be going mad. One day, Angie came in alone. She was naked, as usual, but this time, she had a pouch slung over one shoulder. She waited while Ellie assumed the position, then whispered to her. "Are you ready?" Ellie knew immediately what she was talking about. "Yes! Oh, yes. I'm ready." Angie unfastened the chain from Ellie's leg and the arms from behind her back. Ellie rubbed her upper arms for a few seconds to relieve the soreness. Almost without thinking, she let her right hand slip down toward her clit. Angie grabbed her wrist. "Your cunt is only for Master now. You are not to pleasure yourself. Do you understand?" Ellie nodded, trying to think of a way out of that edict. "If you violate this rule, you will be punished. You are only allowed to come in Master's presence, at his command." They both heard the door open. Master was coming! Angie, who had her back to the door, immediately fell down on her arms, her ass in the air. Not to be outdone, Ellie turned around next to her and mimicked her actions.

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Ellie was surprised at how eager she was, but she couldn't help it. She had been waiting for this moment for days, even weeks. It doesn't mean I don't want to escape, she told herself, her ass wiggling invitingly at her captor. I can use him for my pleasure, can't I? The man came closer, observing the two women. He was pleased. Training for the new girl was going well. She was ready for intermediate training. He stepped up between Ellie's ankles and dropped to his knees on the rug. He rubbed the head of his cock against her wet slit. She shuddered. His cock felt like an iron bar. "My name is Master," he rumbled, speaking to the captive for the first time. "Let me hear you say it." To emphasize her obedience, he let just the tip of his cock enter her. "Master!" Ellie gasped. "Please, Master, fuck me!" She was beside herself—he spoke to her! And he was going to let her come! Thank god! In that moment, the old Ellie was gone, replaced by this needy, grasping, submissive woman who needed this man's cock—and right now. He plunged into her in one stroke. She was so wet; her passage easily enveloped him, welcoming him into her. "From now on, slut, you must ask permission to come." Startled, Ellie was ready right now. "Please, sir, may I come?" she blurted out immediately. "Yes, slave," he said and pumped once. Ellie came hard, her eyes closed tightly. Sweat popped out of her body. She cried out, rocked by the orgasm. The man wasn't finished. He continued to pump into her and Ellie felt another orgasm building. Her body was sucking at him now, making wet noises as he slid in and out of her. She wanted to touch herself, but with her wrists clipped together, she couldn't and maintain her balance on her forearms. She sensed Angie drawing closer and was surprised when she scooted down between her legs. For a

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moment, she just looked up at the man's large cock thrusting in and out of Ellie's pussy, then raised up to lick her elongated clit. Ellie exploded again, just as the man grabbed her hips and came hard into her. Ellie literally saw stars and felt dizzy from the impact of the release. "Ohgodohgodohgod" she sobbed, her words running together. Her eyes were tearing up and her nose began to run. I'm a fucked-up mess, she thought. Or a  fucked mess.

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Chapter 13 When he pulled out, she sagged down, unable to move for a moment. It took a few seconds for her to be aware of the silence in the room. She looked around. She expected that Master would be pleased with her eagerness to fuck him. Instead, he was just staring at her, Angie by his side. Uh oh, she thought. "What—" she began, then it struck her. "Sorry, Master," she said and scrambled over to him. She placed her mouth over his soft cock and cleaned it. He patted the back of her head and rubbed the bristly hair. "Good girl," he said in that deep, masculine voice of his. "Don't forget again." Ellie felt she had dodged a punishment. She wasn't sure what it would have been, but she had no desire to find out. "You've done well. You've earned some new freedoms," he continued, once she was finished. "If you violate my trust in you, you will have to begin again. Do you understand?" Ellie shuddered involuntarily. The idea of going back to her treatment when she first arrived was too horrible to contemplate. "I promise to be good," she said meekly. "Good. You'll be moved into another room that's shared by slaves-intraining. This represents the next step in your development. If you do well there, you can earn more freedoms." He leaned down and unclasped her arms. "From now on, you will only be tethered as part of your punishments. However, you will continue to wear Master's collar and cuffs." Ellie nodded, thrilled that she was to be allowed out of this featureless room. Master turned and snapped his fingers at Angie. The naked girl produced some papers from the pouch at her side and handed them to Ellie, along with a pen.

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"We need some information and your signature here before we can move you," Master rumbled. Ellie took the material, puzzled. What the hell did this matter? It's all under duress. They appeared to be a questionnaire and two bank

signature cards, like for when you open an account. She looked up and was about to ask some questions when she saw Master's stern expression. She mentally shrugged and began reading the form. When did you first have sex? What talents do you have?

Ellie answered these and other questions as honestly as she could, afraid that somehow, he might see into her soul if she lied. Then she signed the two cards. If  I have to fill out paperwork to get out of this room, then I'll fill out paperwork.

He collected the papers, then turned and led both girls out of the room. He took them to the shower and let them clean up. Ellie was directed to shave between her legs again. She was getting good at it by now and finished quickly. Master then took them out into the corridor again and headed away from Ellie's hated former cell. He stopped outside another imposing wooden door. Opening it with a key, he noticed her looking at the lock. "Yes, I have to keep you locked in. You have more training to undergo." They stepped inside as the man continued to speak, describing the room as if he were a real estate agent, showing an apartment to prospective buyers. Ellie was surprised to find she liked the sound of his voice after so many weeks of his silence. "This room is larger and has bathroom facilities. There's a small kitchen and fridge. You should be more comfortable here." Ellie was taking in the surroundings like a kid in a toy store. The room was huge compared to her cell, perhaps 20 feet by 30 feet. It had a thick rug, except for the kitchen and bathroom areas, where it was tiled. There was real furniture in it—chairs and a couch. There were no beds, but there was a large padded sleeping area in one corner, filled with pillows and blankets.

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A naked woman had been sitting in one chair. As soon as they entered, however, the woman jumped from the chair and assumed the submissive position, eyes downcast. Ellie paid her no more attention as she continued to marvel over her new quarters. Her eyes riveted on the bathroom along the opposite wall. There were no walls or door—it was just open, like a locker bathroom. Two toilets sat side by side, next to two sinks. Adjacent to the sinks was a large shower stall with no doors or curtain and two nozzles, each with controls. Idly, she wondered if the water would spray all over. Closer to her, Ellie saw the kitchen. A refrigerator, small stove with four burners and a sink. As she took it in, the man continued speaking. "The kitchen is small, but you'll find it adequate. Some meals you'll cook yourself and sometimes you may be eating outside of this room." Eating outside the room! The words pleased her to no end. She promised

herself that she would do nothing to violate the trust that had been placed in her. Looking around, she noticed three cameras that covered the entire room. One seemed to be focused on just the bathroom . He must like to watch. "Slave Ellie, meet Slave Christine." The kneeling girl didn't look up. The man approached her and gently lifted her chin with two fingers. "It's all right, Christine. I've brought you a roommate. You may stand." Christine unfolded gracefully. Ellie saw the brunette was nearly as tall as she and heavier. She wasn't fat as much as she was muscular. Her breasts were smaller, but had large areolas. Her nipples stood at attention. Ellie's eyes cast downward to the woman's sex and saw she also was shaved. "Slave Ellie has recently received my seed," Master was saying. "It would please me if you would clean her." For a moment, Ellie didn't believe what he was saying. Christine, without a second thought, came over to her, dropped down on her knees and placed her

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mouth on Ellie's tender slit. The woman began to spread Ellie's legs. Ellie resisted and spoke up. "Um, I'm a little sore, Master…." The man turned his gaze from Christine's ministrations back to Ellie's face. She knew immediately she had crossed a line. His face wasn't angry; he just looked determined "Very well," he said. "There is always an alternative to pleasure." He led her to a thick, square post in the middle of the room that Ellie hadn't paid attention to before. When he clipped her arms together, her stomach flipflopped. "Please, sir —" He cut her off with a wave of his hand. Pulling her arms up over her head, he hooked them high. Ellie's feet barely touched the ground. Her breasts rubbed painfully against the rough surface. She tried to look over her shoulder. The man was holding a riding crop. So great was her fear, she thought she might pee here right on the floor. The man slipped a blindfold over her head, casting her into darkness. She shivered now, waiting for her punishment. She heard the man speak. "Angie, five strokes." So he was making the girl whip her, Ellie realized. Angie was small; perhaps it wouldn't hurt as much as if the man did it himself. She heard the whistling sound, followed by the crack of the crop across her ass. Pain lanced her. She screamed. How could that little girl hit so hard? In an instant, she knew that Angie was jealous and this was her way of getting even. Perversely, though Angie had been kidnapped and held captive, she had come to see her tormenter as her man. She viewed the new captives as competition. Again the whip struck her, again Ellie cried out. She didn't think she could bear three more, but she did, weeping bitterly until the end. Ellie was allowed to hang there for a few minutes, sweat pouring off of her, her legs shaking. When the man stepped close and pulled off the blindfold, she was ready to do anything he asked. He released her and she sagged to the floor.

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Chapter 14 "Get up, Ellie," he said. She scrambled to her feet, her ass aching. "Now, where were we?" Christine immediately came over, dropped down and began to tongue Ellie's cunt. Ellie widened her stance and let her, her earlier soreness forgotten. Christine grabbed the globes of her ass to better reach inside her, causing Ellie to suck air from the pain of her fresh wounds. Dammit, girl, move your hands! She could feel the man's sperm leaking out, being sucked in by her new roommate. The woman was good, and soon Ellie felt the stirrings of another orgasm well up. She remembered her lessons. "Please, sir, may I come?" "No, you don't deserve to. You were rude to Christine." Christine's tongue probed deeper. God, woman, don't work so hard! Ellie felt herself trapped between her Master's edict and the increasing pleasure that was building. She bit her lip, trying to think of something else. Christine was stroking her clit now, forcing her to come despite herself. Ellie hated her for doing this. I  wouldn't do this to you! her mind screamed.

"Please sir, I beg you." The words were torn from her lips despite her fear. She saw Master put his hand on Christine's shoulder. The woman stopped immediately. Now that wasn't what Ellie wanted either. She was so close; she needed to come. Being on edge only prolonged her torment. "Since you didn't want to come again, I won't force you. In fact, I order you not to come, until I say otherwise." Inwardly, Ellie groaned. But she made no complaint. "And because Christine was such a good sport, I think you should return the favor." Ellie dropped down on her knees as Christine rose and spread her legs apart. Scooting closer, Ellie began to tongue the woman's privates. Maybe he won't let her come, either. Now we'll see how you like it!

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The woman rolled her cunt against Ellie's mouth, increasing her pleasure. Soon, Ellie was drenched in the woman's copious fluids. This woman really gets wet! Savagely, Ellie stroked her, daring her not to come. Christine's hips began to

shudder. She was close now. "Pl-please, Master, may I come?" Her voice crackled with tension. "Hmmm," the man said, teasing her. "And what will you do for me if I allow it?" "Anything! Anything, Master!" The urgency in her voice went up a notch. Ellie smiled to herself and kept licking. Take that, you bitch! "How about if I fuck you up the ass?" The woman froze at the question. Apparently, this was virgin territory for her, Ellie thought. Perhaps Master had not quite broken down her resistance to anal invasion. Ellie suddenly realized that the subject hadn't come up for her yet, either. She stroked Christine's clit with less anger this time and she started to shudder again. "Okay! Yes, Master, yes! Please!" "I want to hear you say it." "Please fuck me in the ass, Master! Please!" She was holding onto control by her fingertips now. "You may come, slave." Christine erupted with a near-seizure and screamed her release. Her legs buckled and Ellie had to grab her ass to keep her from falling. Angie came over to help, and both women laid Christine down on the couch, still shaking. Juices ran down both her thighs. While she rested, Master went to a shelf by the sink and returned with an object. It was a tapered piece of black plastic about six inches long and a couple of inches around at the base. A butt plug, Ellie realized. She had read about them, but had never seen one up close before.

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In his other hand, the man held a tube of lubricant. He stood right in front of the supine woman and squirted a generous amount onto the plug. Christine's eyes watched it as a kid would watch a needle just before his shot. "I'm not ready to fuck your ass right now, slave, but I want you to wear this for awhile to get you prepared. Roll over on your stomach and put your legs under you." She did as ordered, putting her ass up into the air. He took another squirt and worked it into her asshole with his fingers. "Relax, slave. Let your muscles relax and it won't hurt." He placed the cold tip against her. Involuntarily, she  jerked. He held her ass with the other hand and pressed the plug into her. Ellie watched, fascinated, her loins wetting again. If someone had told her three weeks ago that she would be turned on watching a woman take in a butt plug, she would have been shocked at the suggestion. She knew that her aroused state had been heightened by Master's refusal to let her come. She wondered if he would ask her to take something up her ass—and would it cause her to come? Would he allow that? Christine groaned as the plug disappeared into her until the flange at the end was caught in her anal ring. The man leaned close, speaking softly. "You're going to wear this for awhile. When you have to go to the bathroom, you may remove it and wash it. When you are finished, I want you to replace it. Use plenty of lubricant." She nodded, her face tight. Sweat still coated her body. "Each day or two, I will come and replace this plug with a larger one until you are stretched out enough for my use. Do you understand?" She nodded again, and Ellie could see the panic in her eyes. She couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Master's next words chilled her. "Now, Ellie here is going to make sure you don't try to remove it unnecessarily or try to come while it's in you. Because that

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may give Ellie a slight advantage over you, I'm going to insert a plug into her ass as well." Ellie's heart sank. Her pulse quickened at the thought of being invaded. Like Christine, she was a virgin there. She remembered a boyfriend asking her to do that once and she had snapped at him, "Why don't you just go fuck a boy up the ass?" That cooled him off. Now she would share Christine's torment. Damn her! Somehow this was her fault. She knew that Christine would be watching her closely too; to make sure she didn't come. She was not the kind of woman who would agree to a mutualpleasure act of defiance. Ellie knew Christine would be delighted to rat her out. The man helped Christine from the couch and indicated Ellie should lie down. Nervously, she did so, placing her legs under her. Angie ran and got another butt plug at Master's direction and lubed it up. Ellie felt her stomach turn over. As it went in slowly, Ellie felt herself being filled like she had never been before. There were nerve endings there that complimented the ones in her cunt. For a moment, she thought she might come. Her breathing increased, her eyes dilated. A sudden swat on her naked rear end cut short her reverie and caused her to gasp. "No coming, slave. You know the rules." The man continued to press it in until Ellie was sure she would rip. Then the flange caught and her ring tightened around it. "Good girl." He seemed genuinely pleased. "You may get up." She did so, shakily. It felt strange, being touched in such a private spot. "Don't disappoint me, girls," the man said as he walked toward the door, Angie following behind him. "Tomorrow, we start our exercises." The door slammed.

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Chapter 15 Ellie and Christine looked at each other, eyes wide. Exercises? Ellie was suddenly embarrassed to be naked in front of this stranger, especially since she had just brought her to an orgasm. Being intimate with someone before you knew them made for awkward pauses. She could tell Christine felt the same way. The woman avoided her gaze, turned and walked to a chair and sat down, grimacing until she could find a comfortable position. Unfortunately, the best position forced her to scoot down in the seat and spread her legs. She reddened when she saw Ellie watching and turned until she wasn't thrusting her privates at Ellie. "How long have you been here?" Christine asked, as if trying to take her mind off her situation. "Uh, about two-three weeks. It's hard to tell down here." "Yeah, I know. I've been here about a month myself. Near as I can figure." To Ellie, that meant that Christine had taken a little longer to "break." She must have a stronger personality, she mused. She'd seen evidence of that when they met. "Do you know what he meant by 'exercises'?" "Yeah, I just started on them. Basically, he's been making me do jumping  jacks, push-ups and running in place. He told me he doesn't want me to get fat. Later, though, he promised to take me outside to work out." Outside! That would be good. "Maybe we could find out where we are," she mused aloud, before realizing she'd said anything. "Shhh!" Christine hissed. "He hears us in here!" "Sorry," a chastised Ellie said quietly. "I-I just meant—" "I know what you meant. Now stop it or you'll be punished for having such thoughts. This is supposed to be our world now. Don't think of the past."

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Ellie wasn't ready to give up on her former life as Christine seemed willing to do. She tried to change the subject. "Have any idea what's to happen to us?" "Didn't Angie tell you?" Christine seemed pleased to have a bit of extra information unknown to Ellie. "We're being trained to be sold." Ellie's stomach roiled anew. For a moment, she thought she might faint. She sat down a bit too hard on the couch, and winced as the butt plug was forced into her. "S-sold?" she managed after a moment. "Who would buy us?" "Whoever can afford it," she said. "There're probably a lot of rich men who'd love to have a sex slave around. You know, with feminism running rampant, most men can't handle an independent woman." "But why us?" She gave a short bark of a laugh. "Because we got caught, silly." Tears came to Ellie's eyes. "I just want to go home!" Christine looked at her as if she had made a wry joke. "Wouldn't we all, slave, wouldn't we all."

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Chapter 16 Life in the larger room settled into a predictable pattern: Sleep, exercise, eat and wait for their "Master." It was alternately boring and unnerving. Ellie felt helpless. She had explored the room thoroughly, trying to find an escape route without luck. They were underground, which meant tunneling was out of the question, and the heavy oak door was impenetrable. Ellie and Christine tried to set up housekeeping, as roommates might do, but they were constantly on edge, waiting for the man to arrive with his demands. It was hard to concentrate on whose turn it was to make lunch when their ears were tuned to the scrape of his key in the lock. When they heard him at the door, they immediately found themselves dropping everything to turn in his direction. Like puppets, they both sank to their knees, eyes down. Their conditioning was near total—they felt compelled to obey. They knew their comfort—what little they had—was dependent on keeping him happy. Neither wanted to return to their former rooms and endure the silence torment or the beatings again. Their Master came in twice a day. During the first visit, he had them perform calisthenics. Jumping jacks and running in place were clearly his favorites—his rugged face would break into a sly grin as he watched the women's breasts bounce with each jarring movement. It felt odd jumping around with a butt plug up one's ass, Ellie thought. Afterwards, he'd send them to the shower together. He'd sit on a chair and monitor how well they cleaned each other. Later in their "day," he'd come in to check on their butt plugs or to fuck Christine in front of Ellie. He was adamant about not letting the frustrated woman come. He'd make Ellie clean out Christine, tasting his sperm. Ellie, despite telling herself that she would sneak an orgasm in the middle of the night, had not done so. She was afraid of the man. If Master saw her on one

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of the cameras or if Christine informed on her, Ellie would face further punishments, including the real possibility of retraining. For three days, the man had ignored Ellie's growing need. Ellie was surprised at how powerful her sex drive had become in this hothouse environment. Was there something in the water? Could it be that the man's conditioning was truly taking root in her psyche?

Ellie considered herself a strong woman, yet all of her existence seemed to be concentrated on this mysterious Master. In her mind, she had tried to call him "Butthead," but it wasn't working. Because everyone called him Master, she was starting to think of him by that name as well. And that was the odd part. She found herself trying hard to please him, not only to avoid punishment, but also because she had come to depend on him. When he was happy with her, she felt contented and protected somehow. When he was angry with her, like right now, she felt spurned and scorned. Ellie hated to admit it, but she missed his touch, his gentle side and, yes, even his cock.  Must be the Stockholm Syndrome, she thought, remembering the story about captives who came to protect their captors. She noticed that her labia lips became swollen when he was in the room, her clit aching. All he had to do was touch her pussy and she'd climax. Instead, she'd watch him as he slid his large cock into Christine's slit or her ass, just a few feet from her face. She looked contented as he brought her to orgasm and sometimes winked at her afterward. Ellie was jealous. She was really beginning to hate this bitch. Master would check on their butt plugs, putting in larger ones as needed, and giving extra attention to Christine. When he came over to Ellie, she would thrust her ass up at him invitingly, hoping he'd touch her slit while he worked. He was careful not to—in fact, he handled her roughly, so as to give her minimal pleasure. How long must this go on? she wondered.

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Chapter 17 After five days, Ellie was beside herself. The treatment she'd been given didn't fit the crime. All she had done was complain that she was sore and Master beat her and refused to let her come. How could he be so cruel? She was starting to shake with desire when he was nearby. Now a mere touch would set her off, and Master seemed to know it—he had Christine or Angie check her butt plug and if a larger size was warranted, one of them would put it in. Ellie hated it when Christine was given the orders, as she seemed to enjoy being rough. Putting just enough gel on to get it started, she'd twist the object into her quickly, as if the job was distasteful to her, causing Ellie to scream. Master never punished Christine and simply ignored Ellie's agony. He knew what was going on and he allowed it. On the sixth day, the girls heard the lock and nearly knocked each other over getting into the prime spot near the door. The women barely spoke to one another; instead they both jockeyed for Master's attention, preferably at the expense of the other. They were both surprised to hear two male voices as the door opened. "…have two such candidates. They aren't fully trained yet, of course," Master was saying to someone as he entered. "I appreciate this, I'd like to get a jump on the other bidders." "Anytime," Master replied. With their eyes downcast, the women couldn't see who it was. They could only see the legs of Master, the new man and the ubiquitous Angie, hanging behind. "Now here, I think we're going to have someone very special soon," Master continued. Both women's ears perked up. "Slave Ellie, stand." Ellie's heart leapt at being chosen.

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She glided to her feet, eyes still downcast, focusing on the man's crotch as she had been taught. The stranger whistled and walked around her. Ellie was no longer embarrassed at being naked, yet something in this man's voice caused a vibration in her core. "She's in good shape—well primed. She hasn't come in days." He reached out and touched the bottom of one breast. Ellie felt the heat of his hand. She was afraid she might come, just standing there. "They're exercised regularly." "And training is progressing nicely?" "Oh, yes. Would you like a demonstration?" "Of course." "Ellie," Master said. Something in his voice caused her to look up at his face. "I'm going to let Master Paul here fuck you. Prepare him." Ellie looked over at the new man and immediately felt her juices flow. He was dark-haired and handsome. She guessed him to be in his late 40s or early 50s. Dressed in a Brooks Brothers suit, she could tell he was wealthy as well. Of course, to shop in Master's dungeon, you'd have to be, she realized. Even as she moved to obey, she felt a little conflicted. No one but Master had touched her since she had arrived here, and now she was being passed off to someone else. On the other hand, Master had given permission and she desperately needed to come. She dropped to her knees again and unzipped the man's pants. Ellie eased his semi-erect cock out into the light. It wasn't as large as Master's, she noted. This will be an easy job. Ellie leaned in and took him into her mouth. He swelled into her. She sucked and licked him until he was fully hard. She was willing to keep going, but the man had other ideas. He put his hand on her forehead and carefully pushed her away.

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"Go over and bend over the back of the chair, my slave." His voice was melodious, soft. Without a word, Ellie rose and walked to the upholstered chair. It had been purchased because the back came up to most girls' waists, giving the men a perfect target when they were bent over it. She flopped over the back, letting her forearms rest on the cushions. "Would you like to beat her first?" Master asked. Ellie's heart fell. Her ass tingled. "No, thanks. I reserve beatings to further training, not as a prelude to sex." With that, the man stepped up behind Ellie. She waited, breathlessly, eager to have her punishment period end with the exclamation of an orgasm. She felt the tip of his cock touch her opening. She sucked in a breath. The stranger plunged into her in one stroke. Ellie came immediately as his cock slid past her engorged clit. She waved her hand frantically, hoping Master wouldn't notice that she hadn't asked permission. Her breath came in gasps. She could tell that her skin above her breasts was mottled pink, a sure sign she had come. She bit her lip hard. "My friend, I think she came without permission!" Master’s shocked voice rang hollow. He fully expected this reaction from a girl who hadn't come in nearly a week. "I think you're right! And you said her training was coming along," Master Paul had joined in on the fun, picking up Master's tone. "I think punishment is in order, except I don't want to pull out yet. She's a tight one." "Never fear. I have an idea." Ellie felt herself being pulled up off the cushion by Master's strong hands. Her wrist cuffs were clipped together, then fastened to a chain brought down from the ceiling. Her head hung in between her elbows. In this position, her hips were held up by the chair, while her arms caused her back to hang parallel to the ground. Impaled on the man's cock, Ellie was unable to move at all. She watched as Angie and Christine were brought into position on each side of the chair. Her

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stomach fell as she saw they had short riding crops in their hands, the kind with a fold of leather at the ends. She knew what they were for. "Now, you call out the cadence," Master said to the man. "Left!" Angie snapped the crop against her breast, causing Ellie to jerk. As she did, the man pumped his cock into her. "Right!" Christine let fly a little harder; Ellie jerked again as the man pumped. It went on like this for several minutes as he continued to thrust into her. Sometimes, he'd call out two lefts or two rights in a row, just to see her spasm in pain from the double sharp cracks against her tender breasts. Christine seemed to enjoy spanking the nipple. Despite the pain, Ellie found herself nearing another orgasm quickly. She waved her hand as best she could in her position and was relieved to hear the man say, "You may come, cunt." The action of his cock, combined with the cessation of the breasts slaps, brought her to a powerful orgasm instantly. She shuddered in her bonds. She could feel his sperm shooting deep into her and imagined an electric connection to her sore breasts. She sagged with relief at being allowed to come, despite the cost. He pulled out, leaving her bereft. Ellie's breasts ached and she could feel his sperm dribbling out of her body. She felt empty, yet satisfied. She realized how much she had missed having a man's cock in her. "She'll be a prize catch, I'm sure," the man was saying. "I may even bid on her myself." Ellie felt vaguely disappointed. The man had just fucked her and yet seemed only casually interested in buying her. If she had to pick a master, he would be the one, she thought. She hung there, thinking about how low she had been brought. The strongwilled woman who dumped her nice-guy boyfriend was gone, replaced by this cowering, slutty woman who hoped a man might buy her and keep her as a

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slave! She wondered if she would ever have an opportunity to escape. Moreover, she wondered if she wanted to escape.

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Chapter 18 Two days after the visit from the mysterious stranger, the women were given a new roommate. This must've been the third woman Angie had spoken of so long ago, Ellie thought. When she was brought in, Master seemed terse and out of sorts. The woman stumbled in behind him, having been given a not-too-gentle push by Angie. He said not a word to the other women, he just spun on his heels and left, Angie with him. The woman was shorter than either Christine or Ellie. She was a bit heavy, with small, doughy breasts. Ellie gauged her to be about 30. She had a heartshaped face that would be called cute under other circumstances. Now she just looked drawn and tired. She smiled a glassy smile. "Hi, I'm Anna," she said, and held out her hand to shake. Ellie could see her brain wasn't quite tracking. Who would shake hands when you're naked, being held captive in a dungeon? Ellie grasped her hand as Christine turned away. "I'm Ellie. That's Christine. Are you okay?" She nodded, tears coming to her eyes. Oh, boy, Ellie thought. She watched as Anna's face began to crumple. This girl's not going to make it. Anna told Ellie her story. She was 34, a bank vice president. Divorced. She was frantic with worry about her family, what they might think of her, what her boss must be thinking. "Do they all think I just ran away?" Tears left tracks down her cheeks. "I'm sure they don't think that," Ellie reassured her. She could guess now why it had taken Anna so long to complete her initial training. She was consumed with her thoughts of her family and job. She wasn't able to forget her former life and concentrate on Master. No wonder Master looked angry! He's afraid he kidnapped the wrong kind of woman.

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 Just as quickly, Ellie wondered if that was a way out. If they refused to cooperate or resist training, would Master give up on them? Turn them loose? Ellie was afraid there would be a more deadly alternative that was better left unexplored. "How long were you in the other room?" Ellie asked her. Anna shook her head. "I don't know. It was a long time. They kept at me, forcing me to do things, nasty things, alternately starving me, beating me…" She shuddered visibly. "It was awful. They wouldn't even talk to me." "Well, if you're here, that must mean you've made it to the next level. You must've done what they wanted." She nodded. "Yes. There was no other way, there was just no other way to survive." She walked off, shaking her head. That girl's going to be a problem, Ellie thought.

***** The next day, the women noticed a new phase of their training had begun. Ellie surmised that they had waited until Anna was ready to join them so they could all be trained at the same time. Now, the slightest transgressions were dealt with whippings, removal of pleasures, or both. These whippings were not designed to maim. In fact, Master limited punishments to the riding crop, both large and small; the cat-o-nine tails, with soft suede strips; and a paddle, which was introduced that day when Anna failed to obey an instruction in a timely way. The punishments hurt, yes, but the merchandise was not to be damaged. That much was clear. The girls found themselves willing to do almost anything to avoid punishments. Ellie felt as if they were being mentally herded toward a final destination, like cattle in a stock yard, each chute narrower than the last, forcing them in one direction, single file. For the cattle, that endpoint was the

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slaughterhouse. For the girls, it would be total obedience—without question, without complaint.

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Chapter 19 Master began taking the women outside for exercise, a joyous occasion that offset the cabin fever that gripped all of them. He'd select one or two for the honor and fasten their wrists behind them and attach a length of chain between their ankles, to make escape impossible. He also wore a pistol for the first time, which chilled the women to their cores. When Ellie was chosen to go outside with Christine for the first time, she couldn't suppress her giddy feeling. Outside! To see the sun after so many long weeks! Angie gripped the girls by their upper arms, while Master followed

behind, riding crop in hand. When he opened the heavy oak door, brilliant sunshine flooded in. Ellie and Christine had to avert their eyes until they could adjust. Master gave them time, patiently waiting there in the doorway until they could see well enough to walk up the short flight of stairs to the surface. They came out into a wonderland of greenery. Trees, flowers, shrubs—it was glorious. Neither woman could stop grinning. "You slaves are pasty-white," Master was saying. "Before you can be sold, you have to develop a tan. Makes you appear healthier to potential buyers. So we'll be bringing you out regularly—provided you behave. How long you stay out here depends entirely on your obedience." He led the hobbled women around the grounds, letting them take in the sights and smells of the outdoors. Eventually, he led them to an oval track inside a six-foot fence. He closed the gate behind him and warned them: "I'm going to unfasten you. If you try to jump the fence, I will be forced to shoot you down." He patted the gun. Neither Ellie nor Christine seemed inclined to test his resolve.

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"Now, we're going to have a little contest," he said as he freed them. "A little race. But first, let's warm up." He instructed them to jog once around the track. "Don't wear yourself out!" They jogged at a leisurely pace, enjoying the sunshine, the soft dirt under their bare feet. Christine had a little easier time of it than did Ellie, for her breasts were not as large and didn't flop when she ran. She also appeared to be in better shape. They returned to Master, who allowed Angie to give them each a drink. He gathered them closer. "Here's the deal. You are to race twice around the ring. The winner gets to give the loser five strokes with a paddle." Christine and Ellie glanced at each other. You're not going to beat me! their eyes said. "Oh, and one more thing," Master added. "To protect your breasts, you are to run while holding them in your hands." The two women just stared at each other. What a sight that would be! He lined them up. Ellie felt awkward, holding onto her own breasts. "Go!" They took off, Christine had the inside track, so she had the advantage. In seconds she pulled ahead of Ellie. They ran once around like that, with Christine refusing to yield the lead. On the second lap, both girls began to tire. Dust, kicked up by their bare feet, clogged their noses and mouths. Ellie, determined not to let Christine spank her, put on a burst of speed on the last turn and caught her opponent. Christine, seeing how close the race had become, kicked into another gear and beat Ellie across the finish line. "Bravo!" Master cried as the exhausted girls hung onto the railing, breathing hard. He gave them time to settle down, then tied Ellie's hands to the railing. He made her move her feet back. The railing was only about four feet high, so Ellie was forced to bend over at the waist.

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Master pulled a paddle from the cabinet and handed it to Christine. "Ten strokes, ass and upper thighs only." She nodded and stepped up behind the helpless girl. Whack! Ellie cried out. "Count them and thank her, slave," Master said. "One! Thank you, Christine!" Whack! "Two! Thank you!" Dammit, that girl was hitting hard! Just you wait, cunt—your time will come.

When Christine was finished, she was breathing hard. Master took the paddle from her, untied Ellie and escorted the women back to the dungeon.

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Chapter 20 As the days passed, it was clear that the exercise was paying off for the captive women. Even Anna was losing weight and toning up. The poor girl often lost her races with Christine or Ellie and had to endure many paddlings. For a while there, Anna wasn't able to sit down without discomfort. Even Christine felt sorry for her and tried to ease up on the spankings, but Master got angry and bent Christine over the railing next to Anna and paddled both of them himself. That cured Christine of any lingering independent thought about the beatings she was asked to administer. It was so much easier to exist with tunnel vision, focused on Master and his desires. They were able to anticipate him now. When he had a certain look in his eye, they'd vie for his attention, each trying to outdo the other to receive his cock. Even Anna, whom Ellie had worried so much about, seemed to be taking her training well in the company of the other two women. It was as if she had shed her thoughts of home, instead concentrating on how best to avoid Master's wrath. Although the spankings with the paddle continued during the outdoor exercise, the whippings at the post dropped in frequency. The girls were eager to please. There was no hesitation when they were ordered to make love to each other, or to him, or to any of the men—or women—he brought in to try out the merchandise. Ellie remembered one visitor in particular. Master had brought in a large, well-dressed black man. The girls dropped into their positions, eyes down. There was a stir of excitement in the room. "Slaves, meet Master Demont." "Let me see your faces, sluts," the man said, his voice smooth, with a trace of a French accent. The girls raised their heads and gazed upon him. He wasn't particularly handsome, but there was a kindness to his eyes.

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"Which one would you like to try out?" Master asked. "Or maybe two?" Demont smiled. "Two is always better than one. Let's see…" He walked around the women, looking at them from all angles. "This one, I think," he said, indicating Anna. "And this one." Ellie felt a surge of pride at being chosen as well. Christine hung her head. The women were instructed to "greet" their guest. They shuffled forward on their knees to Demont's zipper. Four eager hands unzipped him and brought his cock out. Ellie tried not to gasp. He was a very well-endowed man. Demont's cock swelled in their hands. Anna bent down to take him into her mouth before he got too big. Ellie held onto his growing girth, feeling the bulging veins against her fingers. As he expanded to his full length, Anna had to make a strategic retreat—she couldn't quite get her mouth entirely around the thick cock. After watching her struggle for a few minutes, Master Demont pulled it away and pointed it at Ellie. She opened her mouth wide and let it invade her. She could accept it in only partway; it was so large. Sucking on the top third of his cock, she hoped she was pleasing him. Ellie kept forcing more of it down her throat, but stalled out about halfway. Both Master and Demont laughed. "Perhaps slave Christine should have a go at it," Master suggested. Christine scrambled over, happy to show up the other two. She took him in a little more easily than Ellie, but also was unable to deep throat him. Master Demont seemed to grow bored. "Let's see how well their pussies can take it, hmmm?" Master directed all three girls to bend over the couch. They lay there, asses in the air, waiting nervously for the man's huge cock to split them. Ellie, at one end, was first. He stepped up behind her and wiggled the head of his member into her wet slit. She groaned and rotated her hips up slightly to allow for more direction penetration. Demont pressed it in a little at a time. Ellie was pleased

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that her wide hips could accommodate him. He stroked a few times, then pulled out, leaving her empty and disappointed. Christine was next. Though she may have been the best at oral sex, she clearly was also having some discomfort in taking in the monster. She grimaced as he pressed into her, biting her lip. She adjusted her feet wider and raised her ass higher. It helped only a little. From the way Demont was pushing, she simply was too tight and too dry for him. After a few minutes, he pulled out. Only half of his cock had disappeared into her. Her head sagged in defeat. Anna, who had wide hips like Ellie, welcomed the large cock into her more easily. She was very wet, which also helped. Both Ellie and Christine could hear the squishy noises made as his cock pistoned in and out. The scene apparently made Master horny, for he came up behind Ellie and plunged into her. Christine just lay where she was, abandoned. The masters kept up their steady rhythms. Christine was hearing the noises in stereo now. Unconsciously, the masters began competing with each other to see who could make his girl come first. Ellie felt an orgasm approaching quickly and raised her hand. "Yes, you may come, slave. You both may come whenever you're ready," he said. Ellie gasped aloud and let her orgasm sweep through her. Anna came a second later, shaking on the end of Demont's cock. He seemed pleased with Anna. "She's a nice one, Master James," he said. It was the first time anyone had heard Master referred to by name. "Good. I hope they'll all be ready soon. I'll let you know when." Both men allowed the girls to clean them up with their tongues and zip them up. They left, chatting about the women's attributes as if they were talking baseball stats.

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***** A few days later, Master entered and told them he had "good news." They couldn't imagine. Their world was so small now that they visualized additional privileges or bigger portions—thoughts of freedom never entered their heads. "You've all done very well. Your training here is complete. Now comes the time for you to be offered to new masters. The auction will be held in two weeks." He left, but he signaled Angie to stay. Immediately, the small woman was surrounded by the others, all with dozens of questions. "What does he mean, an auction?" "What's going to happen?" "Who are the buyers?" "What will they do to us?" Angie held up her hand. "Wait. Wait. I'll try to answer your questions." She led them to the conversation pit and they settled in on couches and chairs, their eyes never leaving the pixie. "Master has done all he can for you. You must make room for new trainees. At the auction, you will be offered to men—and women—to serve them as you have served Master. You've met some of the buyers. They're the men or women who have come in now and again to see how well you've taken to training. The more highly trained you are, the better the buyer you can attract," she said. "Can we pick our buyer?" Anna asked. She clearly didn't get it. "No, the buyers will pick you, so it's smart to be on your best behavior." "How does it work?" Ellie asked. "The Masters and Mistresses have been visiting lately, checking out the available slaves. At the auction, they will ask questions of you, examine you and determine if you could fit into their households. It is very important to make a favorable impression. "On the day of the auction, you will be paraded past the buyers. Bids will be accepted. You will go home with the winning bidder," Angie said. "What if we don't like him?" Anna said.

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Angie looked at her as if she had spat on the floor. "You have no choice. To refuse is to admit your training has failed. You would have to be retrained, at great embarrassment to Master. You wouldn't want to do that." The girls were silent for a moment, thinking about what that might be like, to have to undergo a new round of training after embarrassing Master in front of his peers. The idea was too awful to contemplate. "What will happen after we're bought?" Christine asked. "Your new Masters or Mistresses will take you to their homes. Some of their rules might be different, but your training here should help you adapt." "Will they be like Master or will they be…more difficult?" Ellie asked. "The new Masters have personality differences, yes. Some are easier to obey than others. But you needn't concern yourself with that. As you've learned to adapt here, you can adapt there. It's all a matter of training." "Why can't we just go home?" Anna asked suddenly. Everyone turned to stare at her. Angie's eyes were especially wide. "I had a life," Anna explained. "I had a good job. I liked what I was doing." She trailed off. "This." She waved her hand around the room. "This was quite the experience. But I need to get back to my life now." It was clear now that Anna was not on the same page as the other girls. Her training had failed. As she spoke, Ellie felt similar feelings. She remembered her life before. It was a distant memory, but it had not faded entirely. She looked at Christine and could tell she was thinking as well. Her eyes had a faraway quality to them. Angie shook her head as if to clear it. "Okay. That's enough questions for now. Why don't you girls rest up, have some dinner, and I'll be back later." With that, she made a hasty exit. The other two slaves continued to stare at Anna. "What?" Anna said to them. "What did I say?"

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Chapter 21 Master came in, scowling, and took Anna away, arms pinned behind her back. She seemed bewildered and cowed. Neither Christine nor Ellie was surprised. She would have to be retrained. Both women felt sorry for her. They imagined themselves in the stark room, chained to the floor, not being allowed to speak, being forced to use the bucket as a toilet. Would Angie come in silently, instructing her on the basic position all over again? She probably would. Master was clearly not pleased. Both women believed he would be harder on her this time. It was an indictment on his training. To have to start over after so many months of training! The girls just shook their heads. Soon, they began to wonder how this might affect them. Master had counted on having three women up for auction. Would it embarrass him to offer just two? Had the invitations already gone out? Ellie remembered some of the men who had "sampled" Anna's charms in the last few weeks. She had seemed cooperative enough. She must've made an impression. Had they counted on bidding on her? They actually felt a little sorry for Master. Anna's failure was his failure as well. Not only that, but he had to be concerned that Anna's setback had rubbed off on the other two women. Would they have to undergo some retraining as well? Both Ellie and Christine were disturbed by the events. Though they had their differences, neither wanted to suffer because of what Anna had done. Without speaking directly about it, they both redoubled their efforts to show Master—and Angie—that they were not like Anna. They had adapted to their training well. When a man came in to try them out, they would suck him more expertly, come more forcefully. They made sure they treated him like their own Master. If a Mistress came in, the girls would make love to each other or to her more

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energetically. Ellie and Christine were like orphans vying for a foster family. Please, pick me! Pick me!

Master, who had been watching them warily, seemed pleased with their efforts. But the loss of Anna weighed heavily on his mind. One day, Master brought in a man who took one look at the two women and said, "I thought there were three." Master's face grew red. "Um. One had to undergo some retraining," he gritted out. "I fully expect there will be three girls to bid on." That was a surprise! Did Master expect that Anna would be retrained in a week? Or did he have another girl in the wings they didn't know about? Their question was answered the day before the auction. They had spent the last week exercising and tanning. They looked trim and healthy. Ellie felt she had never looked better in her life, despite her generous hips. The day before, there was no exercise. The women were given only salads and clear juices to drink. The girls spent the evening being bathed and shaved.  Just before they went to bed, the door opened and Master walked in, followed by Angie. The girls dropped to their positions without thinking about it. There was a charged energy in the room. Master didn't say anything; he just stood near the door. Ellie risked a look up and saw Master rubbing his hand gently along the pixie's jawline. What was going on? "Stay here tonight, my pet," he said quietly. There seemed to be a catch in his voice. Neither Ellie nor Christine had ever seen him this way. Ellie looked over and saw Christine was staring as well. When Master looked over, they quickly dropped their eyes to the rug. There were a few more murmured words, then Master left. The girls looked up. Angie was standing there by the door, crying. They  jumped up and rushed to her. "What's wrong?" She couldn't speak at first. Christine went to get some tissues. She returned, and Angie dabbed her eyes. The women just waited for her to calm down.

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"I'm-I'm to be sold tomorrow," she blurted out. "What?!? Why?" The girls spoke up in unison. "Master promised there would be three girls up for auction. When Anna had her setback…" She couldn't go on. The women hugged her. The shame of it all! To be Master's pet for so long and now to have to start over with someone new. They knew it was a shock to the poor girl. "Aren't there any other girls he could've picked?" Ellie asked. She shook her head. "Master has two new girls, but they aren't nearly ready." They tried to console her. She was going from a world she was comfortable with to an unknown. Her new master might be kind or he might be cruel. Ellie couldn't imagine him being crueler than Master. She also felt sorry for Master. Not only because he had to endure a certain amount of embarrassment among his peers, but also because he was going to lose a girl he was clearly attached to. Would Anna fill that role later? Or one of the other girls? Because Angie would be spending the night with the other two, they had a chance to get to know her better. The girls talked well into the night. All they knew of Angie was that she had been brought here when she was still a teenager. Now they learned that her real name was Akina. She had changed it when she arrived in the country at age eight. She had wanted to fit in. Ellie thought her real name was much more interesting than Angie, but she didn't say anything. She had graduated with honors from her high school and had been going to college to become an engineer, as her father had done. Being away from home had been very hard for the young girl. She was homesick, and it had affected her studies. When she learned she was going to get an F in her algebra class, she was desperate to keep that information from her parents. Her math teacher told her

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he might raise it to a C under certain conditions. Naïve Angie thought it meant doing extra credit. He invited her to his office. Once they were alone, he said if she was "nice" to him, he could give her a better grade. "I'm nice," Angie had replied. "I study hard, I do assignments…" "No," the man said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I mean nice in a different way." It dawned on Angie just what he was referring to. She was still a virgin, determined to save herself for marriage. She was faced with a real dilemma. If she failed algebra, her father would never forgive her. She would cause him to lose face. If she let this man soil her, she could never expect to marry a good man. She burst into tears. The professor let her think about it for a moment, then told her he was turning in his grades that afternoon. "It's okay," he said smoothly. "You can take this class again next year. Of course, you may have to give up your dream of being an engineer." She knew that would be unacceptable in her father's eyes. She ended up spread over the man's desk, skirt bunched up around her waist, while the old goat fucked her. She never stopped crying. The incident changed Angie. She still struggled in class, but now she had an edge she could use to improve her grades. Angie figured she was already ruined, so why not? Through the secret grapevine among the most corrupt professors, it became known that Angie was available. Her sophomore year, she spent a lot of time in professors' beds or stretched out over their desks. She learned how to give quick blowjobs. She also got all As. Her parents were very proud of her. Angie didn't know if the word got to Master somehow or if she was chosen at random. She remembered being grabbed one evening on her way home from her physics professor's apartment, her pussy still running with his seed.

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She awoke here like the others and went through training. Her experiences at college had already trained her to a degree. She knew how to please Master early on. When it was time to be auctioned, he held her back for himself. She'd been here ever since. "How long do you think?" Christine asked. "I'd guess it's been almost two years now," she responded. "I don't know how to do anything else. I don't know what's going to happen to me."

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Chapter 22 The day of the auction, the women were all bathed and perfumed. Their hair, which had grown out to a spiky length, was moussed to make it more attractive. Angie tried to put on a brave face, but she teared up whenever Master drew near. Master was dressed in a tuxedo tonight—a tuxedo!—as he was to be the emcee of the auction. He fluttered about like a director of a beauty pageant, trying to handle a lot of last-minute details that Angie probably would have. Losing his girl was hard on him as well, the women could see. "Okay," he told them when they were at last ready. "The guests have gathered upstairs. I'm going to lead you in by your collars. You are to smile and look sexy." Master fastened their arms behind them, which accentuated their breasts. He attached a lead from Christine's collar to the back of Ellie's, then from the front of hers to Angie's. He clipped a leash to hers and led them out. The girls were all very nervous. They didn't know what their fate was to be. What kind of price would they bring? Would they be happier here or at their new homes? Master brought them up the back stairs to the main house. It was the first time Ellie or Christine had been here. Angie seemed familiar with it. He led them through a corridor, then stopped them near a set of double doors. The girls could hear the murmur of voices beyond. "Let's get you ready," he said. He dropped the lead and turned to Angie. Reaching down, he began rubbing her clit with one hand and her nipples with the other. She spread her legs for him and closed her eyes. Soon, she was panting, ready to come.

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He stopped and removed two gold nipple clamps from his pocket. With her nipples fully extended, it was easy for him to attach them. A fine gold chain hung between them. He moved down to Ellie and repeated the procedure. Ellie tried not to let herself get aroused due to the artificiality of the situation, but she was so well conditioned she couldn't help it. Soon, she was near orgasm when he clipped her nipples. The clamps, she noticed, were not painful. They gripped her nipples, but did not crush them. Christine was next. In a few minutes, she was similarly adorned. Ellie could see the wetness between the woman's legs. "No talking inside," he warned. Master picked up the leash, opened the door and led them in. Inside, there were about a dozen potential bidders. All were elegantly dressed. Some had slaves with them—naked girls sitting or standing by their sides. One girl was bent over the back of a couch, being impaled in an impersonal manner by a man who was talking to a companion. When they entered, most turned in their direction to see what Master James had brought them tonight. A few, such as the man occupied with the girl, ignored the parade. The women were brought up to a platform at one end of the room. Ellie noticed a few of them pointed at Angie and whispered to their neighbors. They stood on the platform like cattle, arms fastened behind, leads linking them together. Master left them there while he stepped away for a drink. Ellie felt ill at ease, standing here, breasts outthrust, her cunt leaking, being examined by these dominating personalities. "Ladies and gentlemen," Master began, raising his drink. "A toast to a new crop of slaves." Glasses were raised. "May your fantasies be fulfilled," he said and the group drank in unison.

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"Now, take your time examining the merchandise, but no sex!" he laughed at that last word and the members laughed along with him. "The bidding session will begin in 45 minutes." The three women stood there while bidders poked and stroked them. They were highly aroused now; they couldn't help it. Being touched while their hands were tied behind them only made them more susceptible to an orgasm, but none of them were allowed to come. The helplessness of their situation only added to their sexual frustration. Ellie was embarrassed to feel the fluid oozing from her slit. One dark-haired woman, in particular, found this highly amusing, and kept rubbing her finger along the edge then holding it up for Ellie to lick. "That's a good girl, lick it for Mama," she'd say as if talking to her dog. Ellie hoped she wouldn't be sold to her. She recognized a few of the visitors who had "sampled" the girls during the weeks leading up to this auction. She easily spotted Master Demont, dressed in a suit and tie, standing near the dark fireplace, a drink in one hand. He dwarfed the men standing next to him. I'll bet he's disappointed that Anna isn't here, she thought. Roving her eyes over the crowd, she saw the tall woman who had visited about two weeks ago. She had taken a particular interest in Christine, Ellie recalled, making her bring the Mistress to two orgasms while Master watched. Christine had said later she wasn't sure if she wanted to be owned by a Mistress. She had heard that they tend to be harsher bosses than the men. Ellie spotted Master Paul in a corner, talking to a dark-haired foreigner. At that moment, the two men stopped talking and headed her way. Ellie tried to contain her excitement. She didn't know much about this Master Paul, after all, except that he was handsome and urbane. He could be a real bastard for all she knew.

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Paul and Master Carlo stepped up to the podium and examined each of the three girls. They spoke in low tones to each other as if the girls couldn't hear them. "I hear it broke James' heart to put Angie up," said Paul, stroking the pixie's small breasts with one hand. She trembled slightly. "Yeah, it's a shame about that other slave—she's starting over. He still may have trouble with her," Carlo replied. Paul had moved over to stand in front of Ellie now. She felt like a puppy in a storefront window, eager to please. "Now this one was a nice fuck, though nothing special," he was saying. "Not very obedient, either." Ellie's heart sank— why was he being so mean? "That's too bad. She's seems bellissima. Make a nice addition to villa." "Considering the competition here, she'll probably bring a high price, nonetheless," he continued. "Have you had a chance to try her out yet?" "No, no," Carlo murmured. "I just got in yesterday. No time for sampling, I'm afraid. I'll have to make my decision based on their performance tonight." Performance? Ellie wondered what he meant by that.

Paul spent a few more minutes stroking Ellie's ass while Carlo fondled her breasts, letting his fingers play with the chain between her nipples. She was so on edge she was afraid she might come in front of all these people. The men moved on to Christine. Ellie breathed a silent sigh of relief, followed by acute disappointment at the cursory inspection Master Paul had given her. Face it, girl, he's just not interested in you! If it was any consolation, they spent even less time with Christine. They moved back to the wall as Master stepped forward. "Okay, everyone. Please listen up. It's just about time for the bidding to start. Which means it's time for the moment you've all been waiting for, the performance part of the evening."

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The small crowd murmured its appreciation. "Now, some of you have been able to come by for visits in the weeks leading up to night, so I ask that you folks restrain yourselves until others have been given a try." He turned to the women. "Sluts, you know the rules. Don't break them." Ellie didn't know what was going to happen. Her nerves were as taught as guitar strings. "We'll start with Christine at the far end," he said, reading from a piece of paper. "She's 5-foot-6, 140 pounds, knows two languages—French and English— and says she can cook—or remodel your kitchen. She's a real worker, as you can see. She'd be a versatile addition to any household. She first had sex at age 14 and has had seven sexual partners since then, including one woman." There was some cheering from the ladies in the room at that last remark. "Now, does anyone want to see what she's learned?" A hand went up. Ellie saw it was the cute-talking woman she knew only as Mama. She tried to hide her smile. "Mistress Glenna, she's all yours." Christine was called over to stand next to Glenna, who remained seated on the couch. The mistress stroked her cleft, just a she had done with Ellie, then tasted it herself. "Um. Nice," she said. She pulled up her skirt. "Now, show me how well trained you can be." Christine dutifully dropped to her knees and thrust her head underneath the folds of cloth. Mistress Glenna got a faraway look in her eye and let her head loll back. Everyone was focused on the scene. Master James, sensing he needed to move things along, called out, "Okay, while Christine is busy, let's get slave Ellie out here for a trial. Ellie is a tall one— 5-foot-7, 128 pounds—and a real blonde. She has a head for figures and I'm not talking about her body. She also can cook, but who'd want her to?" The crowd laughed. "Let's see, she first had sex when she was 16 and has had just four lovers since then. Hard to believe, huh? "Who wants to go first?"

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Master Carlo, the man who had been talking with Master Paul, raised his hand. Ellie approached him nervously. He unhooked her arms and with a sweep of his hand, indicated what she must do. Ellie sank down to her knees and unzipped him. Taking his hardening cock from his pants, she took him into her mouth. Her weeks of conditioning took over. She was no longer in this room, surrounded by a dozen strangers. Instead, she was in her quiet little room again, sucking Master for the privilege of eating or taking a shower. Her tongue expertly stroked Master Carlo to full erection and her mouth pulled him deep into her throat. In just a few minutes, he gasped and spilled his seed into her. "Oh, god, girl, you're amazing!" He apparently had been saving up—some of his cream leaked out the side of her mouth and ran down her chin. Ellie knew better than to wipe it away. It was a badge of honor. After cleaning him up and tucking his softened cock back into his pants, she stood, eyes down, and awaited orders. To her left, she heard Mistress Glenna come noisily. Ellie risked a glance over there and saw Christine's face, smeared with juices, pop up from underneath the skirt. A few men around applauded. A man grabbed her and spun her around. She unzipped him. "Angie," Master was saying from the stage. Ellie could tell from his voice he was having trouble letting go of his favorite slave. "Angie has been my personal slave for nearly two years. She's 5-foot-2, 106 pounds, and she can really keep your house organized." There was a catch in his voice and Ellie realized at that moment that Master truly loved this woman. She looked over at Angie and saw tears trickling down her beautiful oval face. Before she could see how the tableau played out, a man grabbed her by the upper arm and steered her toward a corner. Ellie was rudely ordered to bend

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over an upholstered chair. She didn't even get a good look at his face as she raised her ass up for him to fuck. The scene shifted. She heard laughter, sounds of men and women coming. Ellie was given to a woman and made to lick her to orgasm. Once she caught the sight of Angie, bent over the back of the couch as Master Demont energetically pounded away at her. Her face was a mask. How could she take him? "Time!" Master James suddenly called, and everyone finished up what they were doing and settled down. The three girls were brought back to the podium. "I hope you've all had a sample and have made your decisions. We'll start the bidding with Christine." He brought the woman to the front of the small stage. "Do I hear an opening bid of fifty thousand?" "Fifty." said Mistress Glenna. "Sixty," countered a man from the back. "Sixty-five," said another woman. Ellie recognized her as the one who had visited them and made Christine pleasure her. "Seventy," said Glenna. "Seventy-five," countered the woman. The man had apparently dropped out. Back and forth it went, until the strain was evident on the bidders' faces. "One hundred," said Glenna, her face tight. "One-oh-five," said the woman. Glenna shook her head. She had reached her limit. Ellie worried that maybe she'd bid on her now. She couldn't imagine being talked to in that cutesy voice all the time. "Going once, going twice…sold to Mistress Elena!" Master said. Christine's face was red as she was led away by the woman.

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Chapter 23 Ellie was next. Nervously, she stepped to the front of the stage, her stomach in knots. She had been well-conditioned. Now, instead of thinking how wrong this auction was or how many laws were being violated, she was wondering: Will my new owner be a Master or a Mistress? Will he or she be gentle with me? Can I  learn to please him like I learned to please Master?

The Old Ellie, the one who had stood up to her ex-fiancée, was gone, replaced by a truly submissive woman. Ellie hadn't being forced into slavery as much as she had been led into it, gently sometimes and more forcefully other times, until this seemed to be the only life she had ever known. It was comforting in many ways. She would be protected. She didn't have to make the hard decisions that came with the life outside. All she had to do was learn her new master's wants and needs and fill them. "Do I have an opening bid of fifty thousand?" Master James called out. "Fifty," Master Carlo said. Ellie imagined herself living in his villa in Italy. "Sixty." Her head jerked. It was Master Paul! Why would he bid on her if— Suddenly, it became clear. He wanted her all along! He was trying to sandbag the Italian, to throw him off so he could win her with a lower bid. "Seventy." Doesn't look like it worked, she mused. Ellie stood there, naked, proud, her head up as the bidding continued between the two men. She was torn. Living in Italy sounded exotic and exciting. Yet Master Paul had a certain charm she liked. She could picture herself waiting on him, sucking him off, opening herself for him to plunge into her. Ellie felt her wetness spread. She dared not look down, but she knew her clit was peeking though her sheath. Her knees were weak. The gold chain between her breasts caught in the light. The bidding passed ninety thousand, then one-ten. Both men seemed determined to win her. Ellie watched as Master Paul scribbled something down

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on paper and passed it over to Master Carlo. Carlo read it just before he was to raise again. He paused, frowning. He glanced up at Master Paul, a question in his eyes. Paul nodded. Carlo caught Master James's eyes and shook his head. "Going once, going twice…sold to Master Paul for one-hundred and twenty thousand dollars!" Ellie had a new home.

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Chapter 1 Ellie crouched in the limousine with her new Master as they rolled through the countryside. She remained naked, which surprised her a little, as she expected to be kept from public view during the transition. She needn't have worried. Master James's estate was well hidden from its neighbors and the limo had darkly tinted windows. Ellie couldn't see much of the outside, as her collar was chained to an eyebolt in the floor. Master Paul had kindly provided her a pillow on which to rest her head and had given her pillows for her knees. Her legs were spread apart. She really was quite comfortable, despite having her ass up in the air, pointed directly at her new master as he sat on the bench seat, his back to the driver. He was stroking her as they drove, his hands caressing her round ass and thighs and occasionally reaching her breasts. He spoke in soothing tones that more than made up for his rude comments earlier. "My strategy didn't work, did it, Pet? I knew from the first moment I had you in Master's chamber that I had to have you as my own. You are a beautiful slave." He rubbed his fingertips over her back. Ellie could feel the wetness leaking out along her slit and dribbling down the insides of her thighs. She was in heat,  just listening to him. His voice eased her fear. "I know this is a little uncomfortable, but it's necessary. We have a long  journey ahead and it's best if you don't know where we are going." At this moment, Ellie didn't care. She did care that he was teasing her mercilessly. She wanted him to unzip himself and thrust hard into her. There was plenty of room in the limo. The driver had the partition up. The windows were tinted so no one could look in. What's keeping you from claiming me right now!

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Why, nothing, of course. Nothing but the promise of greater pleasures later. Ellie knew that when he at last touched her engorged clit, she would explode. She just didn't want to wait for it. "Let me know when you have to use the bathroom. We'll let you out for a moment." Come to think of it, she did have to pee. "Um, Master Paul?" "Yes, my Pet." "I will have to go in a bit." "That's okay. I'll have Lindo look for a good spot." He thumbed a button and let the partition roll down a little ways. "Lindo, we're going to need a rest stop soon." Ellie heard the driver's murmured reply. The movement of the car lulled her almost to sleep. They had been in the car two hours now and her back was getting stiff. It would be good to stretch out. In about 15 minutes, the limo rolled to a stop. Master Paul unhinged his legs and stepped out, leaving the door open. Ellie, still held to the floor, was embarrassed to on display for any passersby to see. She almost said something, then decided that if this is what Master wants, this is what he gets. He came closer and she felt him unlock the chain from her collar. Master clipped a leash to her collar. He helped her to her knees, then guided her to step out of the car. Ellie didn't know why she was so worried—they were in a deserted area off the main highway. Lindo must've pulled off onto a side road and driven a short distance. She stood outside the car, waiting for Master to tell her what to do. She could feel Lindo staring at her. He was a big man, black as night and powerful through the shoulders. She imagined that if they had a flat, he could pick up a corner of the car by himself. Master led her to a clearing away from the limo. Lindo, she was glad to see, stayed with the car. She didn't like his eyes on her.

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"I think this is far enough." He stood, holding the leash loosely. Ellie was confused. Did he mean—? "Master? You want me to go here?" He stared at her. "Of course." His tone told her everything she needed to know. I'm not going to let you use a regular toilet! What are you thinking, slave? Ellie had peed many times in front of Master and Angie, but somehow this seemed different. Squatting a little, she splayed her legs apart and tried to relax her bladder. It took a few seconds for her to overcome her embarrassment, but her need to pee overrode those social barriers and soon she was spraying a golden stream in front of her. Master just watched, appreciatively, like he might his dog that successfully peed outside for the first time. "Good girl," he said when she finished. She wanted to wipe herself up with something, but there was nothing. She danced a quick jig to shake off the excess. "Don't worry, we'll get you cleaned up when we stop later." Master allowed her to walk around at the end of the leash to stretch her legs. All too soon, however, she was led back to the car. Inside, Ellie dreaded being chained up again. Her back ached already. Master seemed to understand her discomfort. "Would you like to change position?" he asked solicitously. "Um, yes, Master. If it pleases you." Her training kicked in. "Very well." For a moment, Ellie thought he might allow her to sit up on the seat, but that apparently was out of the question. He folded the eyebolt down into a slot in the floorboards, then arranged the pillows together on the floor. He directed her to lay on her back, her feet brought up to her thighs. Master Paul clipped her right ankle to her right wrist and repeated the action on the left. Now Ellie was spread open like a Thanksgiving turkey. He had a full view of her breasts and bare pussy. She felt her face color. Wisely, she kept her mouth shut.

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"Is that better?" She could only nod. "You're not embarrassed, are you?" She tried to shake her head, but it was so ludicrous that she had to laugh. Rather than get angry like her old Master might've done, he smiled. "I like to look at you, slave," he said simply. Ellie thought maybe she could like this man—a lot.

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Chapter 2 They drove the rest of the day, Master leaning down occasionally to stroke her, but never touching her clit. It stood up clearly from the folds, begging for attention. Once, he rubbed his thumb over her mound, feeling the slight stubble and frowned. Ellie knew he wanted her to shave. With nothing to do, Ellie let her mind drift back to the auction. She wondered what Master Paul had written on the paper that caused Master Carlo to drop out of the bidding. She was glad her new Master had won. After she had been bought, it was time for Master to put up Angie. His face was tight as he opened the bidding at seventy-five thousand. No one objected to the higher bid. Ellie had been surprised to see the massive Demont bid for the petite girl. She thought his firehose cock would rip her in two. The woman who lost Christine also bid. A master in the back, with dark hair and a mustache, had  jumped in, as did Master Carlo. The bidding quickly escalated to more than a hundred thousand dollars. The woman dropped out at ninety-five, and Demont soon followed. He must've decided to wait for the next crop, which might include Anna, Ellie decided. Carlo and the mustache man bid past one-twenty, then one-forty. Master  James' face was a mask of stoicism, but Ellie could see the pain underneath. Finally, at one hundred fifty-five thousand, Carlo dropped out, disgusted. "Sold to…Master Andre," Master James said. He had appeared to be gritting his teeth, Ellie recalled. Angie openly began to cry then. She couldn't help it. Ellie thought that it might be good for her to get out of Master's dungeon and into a new master's house. Something seemed to be going on that she wasn't aware of.

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Master Andre was angry and embarrassed at Angie's reaction. He produced a riding crop, bent her over a chair and proceeded to whip the poor girl. She tried to take her punishment as she had been taught, but it was too much. She wailed and thrashed under Andre's blows. Ellie worried he might kill her right here in front of everyone. Suddenly, Master James stepped in and grabbed his upraised arm. "That's enough," he growled. Andre flared up. "How dare you interfere between a Master and a slave?" He said indignantly. Master just held onto his forearm and stared him in the eye. Master Andre was a good four inches shorter than Master James, so it was a contest he realized he could not win. When Master let go, Andre dropped his arm. "I'll deal with you later," he said to the girl, and stomped out to get some air. Master helped Angie to her feet. She was trembling. When she saw her new master had left for the moment, she pulled Master's ear down and whispered into it. He closed his eyes and shook his head once. From where Ellie was standing, she could hear his low-pitched, sorrowful response: "I can't change the results of a fair auction." She could still picture Angie's horrified look.

***** Late afternoon, they stopped at a hotel for the night. Ellie was given a cloak to cover herself as they checked in. First, Master Paul clipped her hands behind her. Because the cloak hung straight down in front, if she walked too fast, it would come open, exposing her. She was careful to walk very slowly through the lobby, following Master as Lindo walked behind, carrying the bags. Ellie realized Master was just being careful, afraid she might try to run away. And she did think about it occasionally. Still, she was happy for probably the first time in her life. She didn't have to be the hardened executive—would actually be happy to let go of that confusing life if the right opportunity came

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along. Her training had been difficult, leaving many painful memories of punishments. But being with Master Paul had been nothing but pleasing so far. Paul had good reason to be cautious with this new slave. He'd heard tales of so-called trained slaves who suddenly bolted. How would one explain to the police a naked woman running screaming down the street? There would be nothing but trouble. When the elevator reached their floor, a couple stood ready to enter. When they saw the barefoot Ellie, cloaked and submissive, they stared. Ignoring them, Master led her down the corridor. Lindo took the room next door. Once safely inside the room, Paul took extra precautions. He removed the cloak and clipped a lead between her legs, hobbling her. He left her arms behind her. Ellie was disappointed. She wanted Master to fuck her. She was ready— couldn't he tell that? She had been leaking ever since she had been sold. The scent of her sex was strong in the car and now, in the room. Her training made her horny all the time. She was a healthy woman in the prime of her life, and by god, she needed a good fucking! Of course, her training also made her patient. It was up to Master. All things were. She would just wait here, oozing fluids, until he attended to her. He left her in the living room while he disappeared into the bedroom. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't escape. With tied hands and hobbled feet, she'd never get through the front door. She just waited there, demure, pliant and devoted. Master came back and helped her into the bedroom. For a moment, she thought her time was coming—time for Master to consummate his purchase. Instead, he led her past the beautiful bed to the bathroom beyond. Inside, a steaming bath was being drawn.

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He closed the door and sat her down on the closed toilet seat lid. Bending down, he removed her leads, cuffs and collar. Master turned off the bath and helped her in. It was heavenly. Hot enough to soothe her muscles, but not so hot as to burn. Ellie sank down into it. For the first time since she'd been captured, she fully embraced this life. How could anyone not enjoy pampering like this? To stay in a fine hotel on the way to an exotic new lifestyle. And what small price to pay? To be available whenever Master called, to give of herself freely, without question or complaint. Ellie soaked and washed and splashed until the water grew tepid. Master got on the phone and ordered room service. The rest of the time, he simply watched her. Occasionally, he stroked his hard cock in his pants, but he made no move to remove his clothes. There was plenty of time. When at last Master Paul declared her finished, she emerged from the tub like Leda, rising from the swans. A few bubbles clung to her breasts. She giggled as they tickled her nose. Master Paul wanted her—and soon. He had told himself he would wait until they got home. Now it seemed a quaint and silly notion. He wrapped her in a towel, taking extra care to dry her breasts and cunt. She shivered. He leaned in and kissed her mound. The new hairs prickled his upper lip. Those will have to go, he decided. But not tonight. Tonight was for other things.

Master opened the door and escorted Ellie out. The bed had been turned down. She almost climbed in, then remembered that food had been ordered. Her stomach growled. She followed him to the living room, still naked and pink. He seated her in a chair facing the door and had her cross one leg over another. She grew wet again, waiting. Soon, there came a knock at the door. Master Paul opened it and let the bellhop wheel in a tray. He was a young man, maybe in his early 20s. He had a little acne on his face. When he saw Ellie, he stopped,

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confused. He thought maybe he wasn't supposed to see her and turned his head, but Master gave no indication that anything was amiss. The bellboy shrugged his head as if to say, If it's okay with you… He openly stared at Ellie's body. She felt self-conscious, but incredibly turned on at the same time. Weeks of training, exercise and tanning had toned her body well. She still felt a bit too heavy in the hips, but there was nothing she could do about that. The moment in time stretched. Ellie felt her temperature rise in her cheeks. Finally, Paul stepped in and handed the youth some folded bills. "W-will there be anything else, sir?" The bellboy stammered. Master shook his head. The bellboy left, closing the door quietly behind him. Ellie was really ready now, hunger or not. She had a different kind of hunger in mind. Master Paul ignored her and set up the dinner. He placed a plate on the table and another one on the rug near his feet. She didn't appear to think that was out of the ordinary. He served up portions, then handed Ellie a spoon. She dug in. He watched her as he ate. She ate carefully, as if she was at high tea. It was awkward with the plate down by her knees. She dropped some food on the rug, then looked up quickly to see if Master noticed. He frowned. She froze, waiting. "You'll have to be punished," he said. She nodded. "Assume the position." She turned around and dropped her head down on her arms next to the plate, her ass up high. Master got up and stood close. Ellie trembled. Whack! His hand on her ass shocked her. Then she remembered. "One! Thank you, Master!" Whack! Another blow landed on the other cheek. "Two! Thank you, Master!" And that was it. Ellie was let off incredibly easy. Master returned to his meal. She was allowed to finish hers. Master Paul waited until after dinner before he consummated his purchase. When he finally took her to bed, he didn't rape her like a master would a servant, he made love to her, gently and with feeling. After he emptied his seed into her,

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he chained one of her wrists to the headboard, giving her plenty of slack, then rolled over and went to sleep, allowing Ellie to sleep right next to him in the king-sized bed—an unheard-of luxury. For the first time since she had been sold, she felt she was going to have it easy with Master Paul.

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Chapter 3 They arrived at Master Paul's estate around one o'clock the next day. Once inside the gates, Ellie was allowed to sit up and see the grounds of her new home. "Eventually, you'll have the run of this place—if you behave," he said. "For now, you will have to earn that privilege." Ellie thought the place looked huge and lush, like a nature preserve. Large, full trees, flowerbeds, birds—it was spectacular. She wanted to jump out and run naked through the greenery. The limo continued around the sweeping driveway to the house. Like the grounds, it was stately and expensive. Three stories high, it featured gray-rock façade and a widow's walk. It was the most extravagant house Ellie had ever seen. Lindo stopped in front of the massive front door and Master led Ellie out on the leash. Lindo dropped off the bags and told Master Paul that he'd be in the garage if he were needed. Master opened the door and ushered her inside. The large foyer was all dark wood and marble tiles. Ellie soaked it all in, not believing that this was to be her new home. Ellie was not concerned that she was far away from her old life. That was a distant dream. She was excited to be part of Master Paul's life—and she was thrilled to be out of Master James' dungeon. She thought about how far she'd come. Deep down, she knew that being submissive was already in her personality. Being kidnapped and tormented was a nightmare at first, but when she saw that it opened her mind up to her longhidden desires, she was able to accept it more easily. Some women go through their  entire lives not ever knowing what this is like.

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"There will be restrictions on your movement for now," her new Master was saying. "But that should all be resolved soon." Ellie just nodded absently, still taking in the furnishings. She didn't want to leave this beautiful new home. Why would I run away? She heard a door and turned to see a young man enter from a back room. Instinctively, she stepped back, embarrassed at being naked for the first time in months. Master Paul put a firm hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. As the young man approached, she could tell he was clearly Master Paul's son, for he was the spitting image of his father, just 20-odd years younger and taller. He was also broader in the shoulders. He must work out, she thought. "Oh, Steve. Come, look what I brought home," Master Paul said proudly. Steve approached. She widened her stance and looked down as she had been taught. Suddenly, she felt his fingers under her chin, lifting her head up. He was looking into her eyes, not at her body. It was the first time in months that a man looked at her as a person, not a sexual object. Ellie was surprised and warmed by the attention. She couldn't help but admire her Master's son as well. He had kind eyes underneath Robert Redford hair. "What do you think, Steve?" There was a slight edge to his father's voice. The moment was broken. Steve glanced at his father, and Ellie could tell a look traveled between them. Steve let his eyes fall to Ellie's breasts, stomach and bare cunt. He walked around her silently. Ellie felt like a sex object again. "Yes, she's a looker, Dad." He stopped in back. "Ohh, I like that wide ass. Good for spanking." Ellie colored but said nothing. She wondered what that exchange had been all about. Steve was putting his hand on the curve of her hip, causing her slit to swell up and part, revealing the wetness within. See? I'm such a slut. I was born for this. To be a sexual creature—okay, let's admit it, a sex slave—wasn't at all bad, she thought. Look what it's brought me.

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Master Paul came close and stroked her breasts. "Yes, she's going to be a good one, I think. Too bad you have to go back next week." "Don't worry, I'll get some of use out of her until then," his son responded. They talked about her as if she was a car or a new power tool, she thought. Yet somehow she didn't mind. Standing here, swaying slightly on her feet, being touched by her new masters, Ellie felt truly at home. If sex was a pitch, she was its tuning fork. Ellie no longer heard their words; she just vibrated to the voices of these two new men in her life. She wondered what Steve's cock would look like. Just like Dad's? Would they fuck her together? That seemed to be carrying the father-son relationship a bit too far. "Mind if I try her out?" Steve was saying when she refocused on the conversation. "No, I don't mind. In fact, I'm kind of tired. I think I'm going to take a nap," Master Paul said. He turned to Ellie. "You go with Master Steve here and obey him just as you would me."  As if he had to say that. Ellie couldn't help but stare at Steve's pants. She could

see the outline of his cock against his leg. She hardly noticed when Master Paul left. "Come on, I'll show you around." Steve led her, naked and dripping with lust, around the house. They toured the living room, dining room and kitchen. It was a home that needed a few servants to staff it, she thought. Yet she saw no one. Was she supposed to be the house servant? Somehow, she thought a sex slave would be a step up from that. In the library, Steve paused in front of the fireplace. A large portrait of a beautiful, dark-haired woman held a prominent position. "That was my mother," Steve said, his hand absently stroking Ellie's ass. "She died when I was ten." "I'm sorry, Steve. That must've been hard for you." "Yes, it was." He volunteered no other information and Ellie didn't want to pry.

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Maybe that explains why they need a woman like her, she thought. They've been so long without a woman around, this seemed easier, perhaps, than trying to replace a woman they probably felt very deeply about. Steve took her upstairs. He explained that he was back from college for spring break, and that he'd have to be heading out on Sunday. "I'm so glad that you could be here now," he was saying. Though they had just met, Ellie could feel a chemistry between them. Yet Steve was resisting it. Not surprising, she mused. I'm just here for sex. Ellie couldn't help but be curious about him. She tried to draw him out, asking questions about the house and his college studies. Steve answered politely. He was a senior, though 28 now, because he had served five years in the Marine Corps. That explained his buff body, she mused. Steve would finish up in  June, but had not yet decided if he would return home for the summer. Ellie was definitely disappointed to hear that. She wanted this man around. Occasionally, as they walked and talked, he would touch her arm or shoulder. Ellie was sure he must smell the scent of her excitement. They stopped outside the ornate, luxurious bathroom off the main hall. It had a tub big enough to fit three girls in it, she thought. Briefly, she wondered how Christine and Angie were faring. Were they being treated as well as she was? Somehow, she doubted it. The master bedroom—aptly named, she mused—was closed off while Master Paul rested, so Steve said she'd have to see that later. Ellie expected to spend a lot of nights there. He took her to his bedroom down the hall. Opening the door, she saw a king-sized bed with ornate headboard and footboard. Pedestals rose from each corner, linked together with crossbars near the ceiling. Yards of cloth draped over the top, giving it a medieval look. A desk and a computer sat against one wall. "I want to fuck you now."

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Ellie turned, startled—and pleased. "Yeah, you need a lesson," he said. "And I'm really horny." He tossed a heavy blanket over the end of the footboard and brought Ellie over to face it. She was compliant, but confused over the turn of events. Lesson? Horny she could understand, he was a young man, they're always horny, but lesson? Did I do something wrong?

She allowed herself to be pushed over onto the bed. The pad protected her hips, but the footboard caused her ass to be held up in perfect position for him to use either hole. Steve kicked her feet apart wide, then bent down and attached leads from her ankle cuffs to each side of the bedpost. She felt exposed, yet ready for his cock. Next, he grabbed her arms and clipped them behind her. She was completely helpless. She could use her stomach muscles to rise up, but the angle of her hips made that difficult. She waited to feel his cock. Her pussy was dripping wet. Slap! She jerked. He had spanked her! She looked back. He was using only

his hand, Ellie was grateful to see. Slap! She felt her ass begin to redden. "D-Did I do something wrong, Master?" "You were a little informal, slave. This is just to remind you of your place." Slap! "Besides, I like to see my handprints on your ass."

His slaps didn't hurt as much as they intensified her sexual tension. After a few more, Ellie thought she might come before he used his cock on her. Before that could happen, he stopped his assault and stepped up between her legs. She felt his cock touching her wet opening. Steve began rubbing her tingling ass and thighs. Ellie was in heaven. He pushed in and she opened up to accept him. His cock was as large as his father's, she could tell. It felt odd, being claimed by father and son. She imagined she would have many pleasant sessions with both men in the months to come.

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Chapter 4 Master Steve had left Ellie tied to the bed when he was finished, her cunt leaking his sperm. She didn't even care that he didn't untie her. She was lost in the moment. She dozed. Some time passed before the door opened again. She turned her head and saw Master Paul enter. "Oh, Master!" She was pleased to see him. He looked refreshed from his rest. He started to untie her, then stopped. "Oh, this view is very nice." She felt him step between her legs. Sighing, she lay still while he slid his cock into her where his son had been a short while before. Afterwards, he untied her, unlocked her cuffs and collar, and let her take a bath. As she soaked in the large tub, she realized she hadn't been shown her room yet. Would she be staying with Master? She hoped so. Or maybe Steve. She relaxed for an hour, as Master had said he and Steve would be busy downstairs for a while. As the water ran out, Ellie shaved, taking extra care with her mound. She got out and dried off, carefully hanging up the towel. She looked in the mirror. Staring back was a woman she didn't quite recognize. The reflection showed a short-haired woman with a feral, hungry expression—not at all like the woman she once had been. And there was something missing. She found her collar and put it on, hearing the small catch snap into place. Looking in the mirror, Ellie felt a little better now. She put on her ankle and wrist cuffs, each little click making her feel more a part of this house, of Master Paul. When Ellie opened the door, she heard voices downstairs. She thought she recognized Master Paul's voice, but there were a few others, including a woman's. They were raised in laughter and pleasant conversation, but to Ellie

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they sounded a little ominous. Her stomach fluttered. She had a feeling they were here for her. Ellie didn't know what to do. Should she just walk down there in the nude and introduce herself? Not hardly. She went to the master bedroom and let herself in. She was taken aback by the room. It was huge, with another four-poster bed in the center. What really caught her eye was the elaborate computer setup in the corner. There were two large, flat-screen monitors and a couple of beefy-looking computer stations underneath the desk. A small library held rows of manuals and discs. This must be where he controls his empire, she mused.

Ellie felt ill-at-ease being in here alone. Gingerly, she sat on the edge of the bed. She waited there for perhaps 15 minutes when suddenly the door opened and Master Paul looked in. He frowned when he saw Ellie. "What are you doing in here?" "I-I didn't know what to do after my bath," she squeaked. He pursed his lips and frowned. "Well, you're the guest of honor downstairs. Perhaps I should have made that clear. Come at once." His tone had changed from earlier today. There was more of an edge to it. Shaking, Ellie rose and let Master Paul guide her through the door and down the hall to the stairs. If she felt self-conscious to be naked in front of his son, how would she feel to be naked in front of Master Paul's friends? She tried to tell herself that it wouldn't be any different than the auction, but somehow it was. She had been an unwilling captive there, but here she felt more at home, even after just one afternoon. Master led her to the library. Ellie thought she might faint as she stood outside. Her training could not completely overcome her social upbringing. Nice girls—and she still thought of herself as a nice girl—did not casually walk nude into groups of strangers.

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Secretly, Ellie had begun to think of herself as the new lady of the manor, not a sex slave. She could imagine that one day, Master Paul might have her portrait hung above the fireplace. "Ready?" Master Paul said over her shoulder. Ellie couldn't speak. Her words caught in her throat. She nodded. He threw open the door.

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Chapter 5 There were five people in the library. She was disappointed not to see Steve among them. Two were women. They all stopped and turned to stare at Ellie. They were clearly upper crust, for they were all dressed impeccably. It was cocktail hour and most were sipping drinks. Over their heads, the portrait of Master Paul's late wife appeared to glare at the naked woman. Ellie was blushing a bright pink as she stood there for several long seconds, Master Paul's hand on her shoulder for reassurance—or perhaps to prevent her from bolting. "Folks, let me introduce our newest player!" he was saying. Ellie barely heard him. She found herself shying back. She wanted to run. Why would he do this? Why invite these people to see what I thought was going to be a private moment?

Master gave her a little push into the room. She almost stumbled, then her legs began to work. The three men were leering openly at her—and so were the women! Were they lesbians? "Would you like a glass of wine, my dear?" Master Paul was being very solicitous. He could sense her discomfort. She nodded. As he went to fetch—him! Waiting on her!—Ellie stood self-consciously in the middle of the group, letting their eyes rape her. No one spoke to her. No one asked her how she was doing, where she was from—nothing. They just stared, like they would at a new zoo exhibit. They were clearly appraising her. Master returned with the wine. She drank it down in short order. A middleaged woman in a blue dress handed her another glass. "Here, dear, you look like you could use this," she said, sotto voce.

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Ellie was startled, yet grateful. No one else was trying to make her feel more comfortable. She sipped the glass, resisting the urge to gulp. "Tell me, slave," one man said, "how long were you with Master James?" Ellie tried to remember. "Um, I don't really know. A few months." "Did you learn to submit?" another one asked. Before Ellie could answer, a woman in a yellow, knee-length dress cut in. "Without question?" she asked impertinently. She didn't know how to answer these questions. She looked to Master Paul, stricken. He just looked back at her questioners and tipped his head as if to say, "See for yourself." "Come, slut," the woman said, raising the hem of her dress. In a trance, Ellie walked to her and dropped to her knees. She could see the woman wasn't wearing panties. She seemed totally unconcerned that she was exposing herself to the others. Ellie leaned in and let her tongue touch her wet slit. The woman widened her stance and draped her dress over the slave's head. It would be an understatement to say Ellie wasn't thrilled by the turn of events. The woman she was supposed to pleasure didn't shave. Her pussy had an odd odor. Ellie closed her eyes and concentrated on her duties. It took an energetic ten minutes to bring the woman off. Ellie's tongue was sore; stray hairs tainted her mouth. No sooner was she finished then another man stepped up, unzipped his pants and ordered her to suck him. For a few seconds, she resisted, her mind trying to understand why Master Paul would want to share her like this. Ellie looked up at Master's face. His expression told her everything. She turned back to her task. Before she could take him into her mouth, Master Paul came over suddenly and grabbed her shoulder. "That's enough, slut. I'm afraid you've shown that your training under Master James leaves something to be desired. This is not unusual, but it shows you need to learn your true place here." Ellie froze.

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Still holding her in place, eye-level with the stranger's semi-erect cock, Master Paul turned to his guests. "Thank you all so much for coming out to help me test my new slave. As you can see, I have a lot more work to do. Please make yourselves comfortable while I take care of this little problem." Ellie's heart sank. She was just as scared now as she had been the first few days in Master James' dungeon. "I'm sorry, Mas—" "Hush, slave." He pulled her to her feet, fastening her arms behind her. The guests looked at her sadly. Such a disappointment! Hanging her head, Ellie wondered what would happen to her. She expected a beating. Her mind was conflicted. She knew the way Master Paul had treated her caused her to think of herself as more than a slave. If he had been more like Master James—not that she wanted that—she would not have been allowing her past life to resurface so readily. Master Paul led her down the corridor and out the back door. Because it was April, the weather was pleasant, but a little cool in the late afternoon. She shivered as they padded softly across the lawn. He directed her to the barn. He opened the small door set inside the huge double doors and pulled her inside. The odor of several horses assailed her nostrils. Ellie looked around for a tack room, but saw nothing but stalls and equipment. He stopped outside an empty stall, unclipped her arms and tied them to straps hanging down from one of the slats. The angle forced Ellie to bend over. She knew what was coming next. Master held up a riding crop for her to see. "Remember, slave, you did this to yourself. You must be completely obedient—only then will you find true peace." With that, he swung the crop at her tender ass, drawing a scream from Ellie. She could feel a welt forming. "Pl-please, Master! I'll be good!"

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Another blow struck her. She jerked on her bonds, tears flowing from her eyes. He paid no attention to her cries and struck her four more times. He came up close to the sobbing girl. "I went easy on you because it's your first day—only six strokes. After tonight, any transgressions will receive a minimum of ten strokes." God! Ellie couldn't imagine taking ten strokes. It would kill me!

Master untied her, reclipped her arms together behind her and pushed her inside the stall. She collapsed in a corner, making sure her sore ass didn't touch anything. He took a length of chain down from the wall and locked one end to her ankle cuff. He locked the other end to a heavy eyebolt on the wall. He paused at the entrance. "It doesn't have to be this way, slut. It's up to you." He grabbed a blanket off a nearby rack and tossed it to her. With that, Paul closed the gate and left. She looked around and didn't see a cot or anything of comfort. Just hay. At least it didn't smell of horse piss, she thought. Ellie realized all she had to eat today was breakfast. Her stomach growled. With her hands tied, she couldn't wrap the blanket around her unless she used her teeth. She lay down next to the wall and cried.

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Chapter 6 After a near-sleepless and chilly night, Ellie awoke with a powerful need to pee. There wasn't even a bucket in the stall. She paced up and down the length of her chain and waited for someone to come. She hoped it would be Steve. She wished he didn't have to go away so soon. She felt blindsided. Master Paul had been so nice! He made love to her in the hotel room and was solicitous on the road. Once he got home, however, his personality changed. She went from being treated like Julia Roberts in "Pretty Woman" to a pimp's common whore. She never bargained for this. If she hadn't been chained, she would have run away. Ellie danced around, trying to hold in her water. She looked out through the slats of the gate to see if anyone was coming, but saw no one and heard nothing except the nickering of the horses. Finally, she could not contain herself any longer. She scooted into a far corner of the stall and let her stream fly. She cried as she urinated, feeling utterly degraded. At least her old Master gave her a bucket. Time passed. Ellie was thirsty and hungry. Her ass throbbed. She could tell the location of each welt without looking. She guessed it must have been mid-morning when she heard the barn door open. She dropped to her knees and looked down, just as the gate opened and Master Paul's face appeared. "Good morning! How did you sleep?" His false sense of cheeriness grated on her. How do you think I slept!

"Okay, Master." "I know you're confused right now. But you've got to earn your privileges, you know." "Yes, Master."

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"All the girls start out at the bottom, just like you. When you prove you can be trusted, that you're obedient, and you know your place, then you can earn new privileges. For example," he went on. "You'd probably like to sleep with your arms unfastened. Or get cleaned up…" Or not sleep in a damned horse barn!

"… or get regular meals. These things aren't just given to you. You have to prove worthy of them." Ellie nodded, as if trying to understand. "Yes, Master." "You must display unswerving obedience." "Yes, Master." Ellie hung her head. "It's really a matter of attitude. Master James only has a limited amount of time to condition his girls, so they usually come out with some resistance to total obedience. Take yourself, for example. Since you've arrived you've been thinking on your own. You decided to go into my bedroom after your bath, you resisted servicing my friends. Even now, I'll bet you're thinking about how much you dislike me." Ellie paled. "N-no, Master, I— " "Tut, tut, my dear, it's perfectly natural. But you must learn to become a complete sex slave, ready and willing to do anything for anybody at any time. You can't be thinking about food, or escape, or your past life. You have one job here. Your mind must be focused on that job at all times." "Yes, sir. I hope to prove worthy of you, so that I can avoid punishments and …um…sleep inside." "See, that's just what I'm talking about. You're concerned about you, not me or Master Steve. It reminds me of that old joke: Why can't a woman be Santa Claus? Because she'd be telling the kids: 'Yes, but what about my needs'." He chuckled at his own joke. "Instead, you should be thinking: 'Does Master want me to suckle his cock? Would Master like to use one of my other holes? How can I please him at this moment?'"

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After Master James, Ellie had expected Master Paul to treat her better, she realized. She knew that what Master Paul was saying made perfect sense to him. He wanted total subjugation. To do that, Ellie's mind would have to lose about 60 I.Q. points. She supposed she was on her way. She didn't know if it was possible to lose oneself so completely in sex.

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Chapter 7 After the lecture, Master gave her a bowl of food and left her to eat and think about the goals he had set for her. He didn't offer to unfasten her arms and he didn't try to use her, though she would have been more than willing if it meant she could return to the house. Looking at the bowl, she knew she'd have to eat like a dog. The food seemed to be scraps from their breakfast table—bits of egg and half-chewed bacon slices, ends of toast and a little cold coffee poured into the bottom. It was disgusting. Ellie ate it all. The sun made the barn warm. The horses whinnied, asking to be let out. From the angle of the sun through the slats of the barn, Ellie guessed it was around noon when a man entered the barn. He began opening the stalls and letting the horses out. He made clucking noises at them as they ran past, anxious to get out into the sun. Ellie couldn't see him clearly through the gate. She almost called out to him, then decided against it. Her training at the dungeon kicked in. If someone doesn't talk to you, don't bother talking to them.

The gate opened suddenly, startling Ellie. She scrambled to get into position. When she glimpsed the man, she knew she had never seen him before. He was Mexican, she guessed, about 30 years old. He just stared at her, smiling. He spoke a few words in Spanish that Ellie didn't understand. He approached and Ellie tried not to shy away. He rubbed her breasts. It felt good, despite her predicament. When he squatted down and began rubbing her slit, she was startled, but then quickly became aroused. In minutes, she came, shuddering. He laughed and stood up. Then the man did something unexpected. He pulled a case from his back pocket and opened it. Birth control pills! She had forgotten all about it today.

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Master Paul had given her one when they left the hotel, but that seemed like ages ago. She opened her mouth and let him place one on her tongue. The Mexican left, closing the gate behind him. Ellie was left alone with her thoughts.

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Chapter 8 The little bit of coffee Ellie had was not enough to satisfy her thirst. Now she was consumed with the need for water. Her throat was dry and cracked. In a lot of ways, she was starting her training all over again, she realized. Late afternoon, she had another visitor. It was Lindo, the driver. Ellie knew better than to ask for water before he made his demand. She waited on her knees. He unzipped his pants. "Suck," he said rudely. His cock was good-sized, but not as big as Master Demont's, she was glad to see. She opened her mouth and let him press into her. With her hands behind her, she couldn't control his thrusts. Ellie slurped along the shaft, willing him to come. After pounding her for a few minutes, he pulled away and let gobs of sperm splash onto her face and hair. She sagged, defeated, used. He zipped up and left the stall for a moment. When he returned, he had a bucket of water.  Just like Angie! she thought. You have to give up something to get something. He gave her a drink, then another. Her thirst slaked, Ellie felt sleepy. She watched Lindo go, then curled up on the blanket and went to sleep.  Just before dark, Master Steve showed up. Ellie treated him like she would Master Paul. She presented herself to him and waited. Her stomach was growling so much she could hardly hear herself think. Ellie hoped he brought some food. He opened the gate and Ellie risked a peek up. He was carrying a plate! She tried to keep her eyes focused on his pants. He helped her up. "Are you okay?" "Yes, sir." He unhooked her arms and let her rub circulation back into them. Steve handed her the plate and a spoon. The plate was heaped with warm chicken, potatoes and corn. "Eat up."

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Ellie dove in as if she hadn't eaten for days. It was nearly true. Steve leaned against the wall and watched her. After she finished, they began to talk. Just like yesterday, Ellie felt that physical attraction to the man. She wouldn't even mind if he spanked her again—as long as he made love to her afterwards. He was much preferable to the others she had been forced to pleasure. At first, they talked about safe topics, such as the weather, the type of business his father was in ("Investments," was all he said) and his plans after school. But they both realized they were zeroing in on each other. His edict yesterday that she not be "informal" with him seemed to fly out the window. Ellie knew that the young man was both attracted and repelled by her. Attracted, as a man would be to a woman he likes and can talk to. The sex was probably as good for him as it had been for her. Yet he was repelled as well for she was his father's sex slave—and that tainted her. Well, she shouldn't be surprised. Ellie also learned she was not the first. "Really, Master? There were others?" He nodded. He seemed unsure about how much to say. "May I ask what happened to them?" He looked away. "No, you may not." He was agitated. Ellie had to ask. "Were they —" Steve looked at her sharply. "No! They were not killed, if that's what you mean." He grimaced. "They're all alive and…well, they're fine, just fine." She didn't like the sound of this. "Please, Master, can't you tell me what's going to happen to me?" He shook his head, then suddenly scooped up the empty plate and left, closing the gate abruptly behind him. "Okay, now I'm officially scared," she whispered to herself. But she was pleased to note that he had not refastened her arms behind her back.

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Chapter 9 Master Steve came in early the next morning. He surprised her by bringing a cup of coffee. "Here," he said, as if embarrassed to be waiting on a mere slave. "Th-thank you, Master," she said. She took it gratefully and sipped. The coffee was excellent. "I didn't know how you liked it, so I figured black was safe." "It's fine. It's quite good." Actually, Ellie preferred a little cream, but she wasn't about to say anything. "For future reference, do you take something in it?" It was as if he had read her mind. "Um, maybe a little cream. But this is good just the way it is." Steve nodded. He looked off, fidgeting a bit. "So," he paused, awkwardly. "Tell me what it was like at Master James." Ellie wasn't sure why he asked. And it wasn't something she cared to recall. Still, she had to obey her masters. "It was hard, Master. To be taken away from the life you've known and forced…" She trailed off, realizing that the direction this was going wasn't helpful. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I guess I was just … curious about you." He shook his head. "I should go." "No, it's all right, Master." Ellie didn't want him to go. What's more, she could tell he didn't want to leave either. "I did learn something while I was with Master James," she blurted suddenly. "I learned that there was a part of me that liked to be submissive." Her admission startled her. She hadn't dared admit it before, even to herself. The punishments were horrible, as was the forced sex with men and women she didn't know or like. Yet there was something comforting, even safe, in giving up one's power, narrowing responsibilities. Ellie's life had been harried, complicated

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and sometimes overwhelming. Now, she had one job. All her needs were being taken care of. Ellie now knew why it could never work between her and Frank. He just wasn't strong enough for her. She liked being around men who knew what they wanted and weren't afraid to go after it. "You do?" Steve said, taken aback. Ellie looked down. "Yes. I mean, no one wants to be kidnapped. But part of me craves this. I'm not sure I can explain it." She wasn't sure she could explain it to herself. "Perhaps it's the caveman in us," Steve said. "We say we’re modern and give women equal rights, yet deep down there's still part of our psyche that craves the idea that the strongest among us can drag a woman into our cave and make her bear our children." "Yes, survival of the fittest." Ellie nodded. "People like my father conquered business, and feel they've earned the right to conquer love the same way." "You don't approve?" Ellie knew she was overstepping her bounds. Steve shrugged. "There are certain aspects that appeal to me, sure. But kidnapping women and making them, um, perform?" He shook his head. "It's my father's business. I try not to interfere." "Am I safe here?" Ellie asked suddenly. He looked away. "Of course you are." He didn't sound convincing. "You're not telling me something." His brow furrowed. "You're a slave, you don't need to know anything." "Then why aren't you treating me like one?" Steve realized she was right. He was drawn to this woman. If he had met her somewhere else, they might even have dated. He imagined running into her at the library or the market, inviting her to coffee. Their conversations would flow

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naturally about the things they had in common. She was smart, well educated, pretty—the kind of girl he could introduce to his mother if she were still alive. Now, seeing her standing before him, naked, dirty, chained up—it was all ruined. There was no chance of exploring a normal relationship. God knows how many men she's fucked in the last few months, how many times she's debased herself. "I have to go," he said suddenly. Ellie watched him, dismayed, as he gathered up the empty coffee cups and fled. A few hours later, Master Paul appeared. She hadn't seen him since her first morning in the barn. As she dropped into position, she flashed him her best vapid "fuck-me" grin and waited. "What have we learned, my slut?" "I've learned to make myself available to anyone who asks for me and do anything they want me to do," she said automatically. "Good. But I want to hear exactly what you mean when you say that." Ellie thought for a moment, not sure what he wanted. Then it dawned on her. "I'm to offer my body for men to fuck in my ass or my cunt or to suck cocks with my mouth until they come in me." "Good, my slave. Very good. You are coming along very well. Now, I'm sure you'd like to get cleaned up." She nodded, thrilled. She was dirty from the dust, straw and dried cum. He unlocked her and took her back to the house. Ellie was given a hot bath and told to shave. She was determined to keep Master's trust now and made sure she followed his instructions exactly. When she was finished, she strode from the bathroom, intending to head downstairs to find him. She fully expected to be told to pleasure him or his friends. This time, she vowed to honor his wishes without hesitation. She was taken aback to find Master Steve waiting for her in the upstairs hallway. She was about to drop to her knees when he put his finger to his lips,

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silencing her and causing her to freeze. Ellie was confused. Steve tipped his head, indicating she should come into his room. Ellie wasn't sure what to expect. Another session draped over the bed seemed the most likely occurrence. She slipped past him into his room. Steve was acting strange. He peered out the door before closing it. Ellie waited silently, her face questioning. He came close, pitching his voice low. "I tried to stay away from you, to just go back to school. You're not supposed to be any of my business. But there's something about you…" He trailed off. Ellie melted. She had felt it too, of course, but couldn't imagine that he would be interested in a slut for anything other than fucking—or spanking. "I wish we'd met under different circumstances," he continued. "This isn't right, you know. All this." He waved his hand at her nudity, her chains, her cuffs and collar. Her eyes filled with tears at the kindness he showed. "M-master," she began. He put a finger to her lips. "Hush, now." Steve pulled back the covers and she glided into bed. There was to be no spankings, no punishments, no rude blowjobs that left her mouth sore and her body unsatisfied. At this moment, they were not master and slave; they were lovers. Ellie had been so beaten down over the last few months that having Steve pay attention to her needs instead of just taking his pleasure doubled her emotional involvement. She welcomed him into her arms, feeling his strength as he hugged her. She felt safe here somehow, despite the crazy situation she was in. Steve kissed her gently, as if making up for the rough treatment she had been given since she had arrived on his father’s estate. Ellie felt his hard cock against her thigh. She was wet, ready for him. Tears came to her eyes. “It’s okay,” he said, holding her tightly. “It’s okay.”

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She hugged him to her, feeling her breasts press hard against this chest. Ellie wanted him right now—she needed him. She opened her legs for him. Steve moved up between them; she felt the tip of his cock touch her. Ellie gasped—an orgasm was building, even now. When he thrust into her, she came—hard—throwing her head back, letting the tears run into her hair. Steve kissed her again and she relished the closeness of him—hips on hers, his skin against body, his cock in her pussy. He began to stroke in earnest. Ellie was so wet it made sounds, driving her on to another orgasm. She rode it like a wave, letting it build within her, holding on until she could feel Steve’s cock twitch deep within her. He pushed hard against her; she felt his seed erupt. Ellie came again, squeezing him so tightly she saw flashes of light behind her eyelids. She didn’t want this moment to end. Finally, Steve pulled back and studied her face. "I really don't understand this," he said. "I've never found myself drawn to one of Dad's slaves before." "I’m not a slave," Ellie breathed, letting the memories come back. "I was a woman with a career before I was kidnapped." He nodded. "I know." He shook his head. "Dad'll kill me if he finds out we're talking like this. You're supposed to be isolated. Otherwise, your training will regress." What he said was true, she realized. You can beat or torment a body into compliance, but the mind never fully accepts it. Even if she had become more of a slave to sex, she never would have completely forgotten her past life. Nor could she imagine anyone else in her position forgetting who they really were. Only the threat of beatings would keep them in line. "I would imagine all the girls would try to escape eventually," she said. "Unless you kidnapped someone as a child, they'd always have memories." He nodded, that troubled look on his face again. "We'd better go. Dad will be looking for you."

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Ellie felt dismissed. But she said nothing. After all, she was simply here as a slave. She believed Steve had more to tell her, just as she had thought in the barn. For some reason, he wouldn't—or couldn't—talk about it. Rising, he dressed quickly. Ellie stood there, watching, feeling his sperm leak out of her. "I'm going to let you go first. If Dad asks what took you so long, tell him I wanted to make use of you." He turned, then turned back. "Oh, I almost forgot." He grabbed her by the upper arm and half-spun her around. Whack! Whack! He left red handprints on her ass. Ellie was too startled to speak.

"Dad knows about my little fetish," he explained. "If you tell him I wanted you, he'll expect to see this." He pointed to the red marks on her pale ass. She left quickly, her ass tingling. Once downstairs, she found Master Paul in the library. "I was beginning to worry about you, slut," he said, his voice disapproving. She explained about his son. He nodded as if that made perfect sense. He had her turn around. "Ah, good. I'm glad he enjoys you. You should be pleased." How little you know! If Ellie was reading her men correctly, she'd say his son

was starting to fall in love with his father's sex slave. And she was falling for him.

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Chapter 10 That night, Ellie was allowed to stay in the house, chained up in the wine cellar. He was taking no chances with his new toy. Master let her sleep on a small cot down there, wrapped in a blanket. In the morning, Ellie found it difficult to concentrate on her duties—her mind was on Steve. He apparently felt the same way, for he made it a point to come by occasionally to see how she was doing during the day. Ellie was glad to see him—except once when he walked into the library to see her bent over a chair in front of the fireplace, Master Paul plunging into her. Steve excused himself immediately, but not before Ellie blushed crimson at being caught, as if she were Steve's property, not his father's. The young man no longer abused her in any way. There was a sexual tension between them, but often they'd just talk, in his room or while walking the grounds when the weather was nice. He no longer called her "slave" or "slut" unless they were in the presence of his father. Privately, he simply called her by her name. Once, in Steve's room, he bent her over the bed and entered her slowly, caressing her neck and shoulders as he pumped. Ellie loved the feel of his body against hers, his hard cock splitting her. “Make me come, baby, make me come,” she whispered. He did not disappoint her. When he spilled his seed into her, she came with him. She felt in tune with his body as if she had known him for years, not days. Steve kissed her on her cheek. They talked in whispers, like school kids hiding from the teacher. Ellie found out a lot more about Steve—and the somewhat strained relationship he had with his father. His feelings about his father's proclivities had changed since he had left home at age 19. He told her his father's sex slave fascination had been going on since Steve was 14. Growing up, it was a part of his life, although he was not

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allowed to participate at first. Before he left home, he became used to seeing a naked woman around the house. As an adult, however, he became less enamored by it. During his stint in the Marines, Steve had been stationed on a ship that had stopped in Thailand and had gone to one of those infamous sex shows. The repressed Americans loved to go to these shows where women displayed their carnal talents. Steve found the show hit too close to home. Rather than being titillated, he was vaguely distressed. He began to realize just how strange his father's fetish had become. "Why do you think we have no servants? And I don't mean our chauffeur and Jorge, the horse groom you met in the barn. I mean house servants. If they saw what was going on here, they'd call the police. The only way Dad keeps the house clean is to have some maids come in once a week. He makes sure you're out of sight when they arrive." "Must be hard to have to admit to yourself that your father is doing something wrong," Ellie replied. "But he's my father," he said, rubbing her back. "I love him. He's given me so much. I think Mom's dying really affected him." Ellie nodded. "I guess he loved her very much." Steve sat up. "Loved her? Oh no, he hated her. Catherine was a difficult woman." Now Ellie sat up. "Really? You wouldn't think that from seeing her portrait so prominently displayed in the library." He gave a short laugh. "He says that's to remind him of how lucky he is now." He paused. "Ever notice that he always takes his pleasure with you in front of that picture? That's his way of saying 'fuck you' to her. He considered her a real bitch." She realized he was right. "Why? What was she like?"

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"To me, she was a good mother. A little domineering, perhaps. She spanked me whenever I misbehaved. To Dad, she was just…prickly. Opinionated. Never satisfied. I think Dad became so successful just to shut her up. I know he spent a lot of time at work." Domineering, prickly—those were the kind of things Frank said about me, so long ago.

"Why didn't he just get a divorce?" "He never said, but I think it was because of me. He had come from a broken home and he was determined not to inflict those emotions on me." "So when she died, your father was…relieved." "Yes. That's when he decided he didn't want to get married again for fear that he'd end up with another overbearing woman. Of course, at the same time, I'm sure he still wanted sex." Ellie's head was spinning. "So he began to purchase sex slaves as a way of sticking it to the memory of Catherine?" "Yeah, pretty much. Strange, isn't it? He hated his wife, so I guess that makes you the anti-wife."

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Chapter 11 The next two days were a blur of training and sexual degradation by Master Paul and secret rendezvous with his son. Ellie learned to obey Paul completely, despite her awakening at the hands of Steve. It was as if she was leading a double life. The more she learned about Paul, the more she felt her training slipping away. Paul appeared to be a decent master, but the more she saw of him, the more she came to realize he had a depraved side to him that scared her. Who knows how far he would go. She had no choice now but to try to escape. Knowing Steve's feelings for his father, she didn't know if she could trust him to tell him of her plans. Would he help her or turn her in? She decided it would be safer not to involve Steve. Unconsciously, she might have been protecting him. Whenever Steve "borrowed" Ellie from his father, they would slip away to his room, or go for a walk. She felt the connection between them growing. She wanted nothing more than to be with Steve—whether as a slave or as an equal, it really didn't matter at this point. They had to be together. They could sort it out later. In spite of Steve's concerns that talking about her past would defeat her training, he began asking her more questions. He wanted to know what kind of woman she was before she had been taken. Ellie told him about her job, how difficult it was and some of the challenges she faced. She did not tell him about how she had secured her last contract, however. She talked about Frank and her feeling that he wasn't "strong" enough for her. Steve actually laughed out loud. "Well, I guess Dad fills that need, doesn't he?"

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She blushed. "He's a strong-willed man. But he doesn't see me as a person,  just as a collection of sex organs." Steve grew thoughtful. "Yeah. There's a lot more to you, that's for sure." He seemed to realize he was revealing more than he dared. "Not that your sex organs aren't first rate," he joked lamely. "Steve." Ellie had dropped the "Master" in the last few days. "I wish you didn't have to go. I'm going to miss you." He nodded and looked away. "Me too," he managed. "I have to finish school." "I know. I'm just a little afraid to be left here alone with your father." He nodded but didn't say anything more. She knew he was still protecting his father. "I'll be safe here, right? I won't end up like the other girls?" His eyes swiveled and locked on her. "You'll be…fine," he said quietly. Somehow, that wasn’t what Ellie wanted to hear.

***** Sunday came all too soon for Ellie. She awoke late, surprised that Lindo hadn't come for her already. Then she heard faint voices, raised in anger. She turned her head to hear. The entrance to the wine cellar was not far from the library, and she imagined Steve and his father were having some sort of heated discussion. She couldn't make out the words. It seemed to go on for a long time. Eventually, the voices ceased. Shortly thereafter, Lindo came down and released her. Normally, he would take the opportunity to fondle her to an orgasm or make her suck him. Today, he seemed nervous. He unlocked the chain and pointed up the stairs. She went into the library. Master Paul was waiting. He was angry. In one hand, he held the riding crop. "Your training is not going well. You're a fucking slave, you hear me?" He grabbed her and pushed her over the arm of the couch.

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Ellie couldn't imagine what she had done. Then she realized it must be Steve. They must have been arguing over her. What did Steve say? The first blow struck her, catching her unawares. She screamed. Paul strode to the desk and pulled out a ball gag. He yanked the straps tight against the back of her head, silencing her. He struck her again. Ellie bellowed into the gag. She counted out the blows. Three. Four. Five. Six. Her ass was on fire. She tried to get up, only to have him strike her across the back, just below the shoulder blades. She collapsed back onto the couch. Ellie lay there, crying. She heard a door slam open. Before Master Paul could land another blow, she caught a movement behind her. She looked around in time to see Master Paul stumble away. Ellie turned back to see Steve standing there, furious. He had pushed his father! "You leave her alone, dammit! Don't take your anger out on her! This is between you and me!" His father strode toward him, raising the whip. Steve stood his ground. "Go for it, Dad. See what happens. You'll find I'm not one of your slaves." Paul stopped as if paralyzed. He knew he stood no chance against his much stronger son. What's more, he didn't want to hit him. His son was not his slave. He loved his son. The fight went out of him like air out of a balloon. He dropped the whip, then stepped close to his son's ear. "This is none of your business," he whispered. "You let me live my life like I let you live yours." Paul left the room. Steve was clearly shaken. He helped Ellie up and unbuckled her gag. "Are you all right?" "Yes," she managed, although she did not feel all right. Her ass and back ached. She looked around to see blue-red welts standing out in relief. "Come on, I'll put something on those." He helped her up and took her to his room. The salve he spread on her was soothing. "Did you two argue over me?"

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"Yes. I told him to let you go. He said I should mind my own business." Ellie half turned so she could see his face. "Who won?" He turned away, embarrassed. "He did, I guess. He offered to let me buy you. He knows I don't have that kind of money, even if I am his heir." She was touched that he would consider buying out her contract and didn't know how to respond. "Are you well enough to go for a walk?" he asked suddenly. He went to the closet and pulled out a trench coat, then rolled it up tightly into a ball that he stuffed under his arm. "Sure, I could do that. Just no jogging, okay?" She walked ahead of him and they went out the back door. Master Paul was nowhere to be seen. Ellie thought he might be in his room, pouting. It was a damp, cool April day. Walking was painful at first, but soon her muscles eased up and she was able to move more freely. Steve let her set the pace. Once they were in the trees behind the house, he unrolled the coat. "Here, put this on." Ellie was puzzled. She hadn't worn clothes in months. She almost parroted what Angie had told her so long ago: Slaves don't wear clothes. Something in Steve's face told her not to argue. She slipped it on over her naked body. It was far too large. She let it hang open. "Tie the belt." As she did, the question burst from her. "Why do you want me covered?" He tipped his head. "So I can pretend." "Pretend?" She wasn't going to let him off easy. "Pretend that we met under different circumstances. Let's say it's a rainy day in my college town. You, dressed in your trench coat, are coming out of the bookstore. We run into each other. I invite you to coffee." He started walking. Ellie caught up to him.

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"Now," he said, walking beside her. "We can start over. 'Hi, I'm Steve, uh, Smith. What's your name?' " She smiled. "Ellie Martinson." "Nice to meet you, Ellie. So, tell me about yourself…"

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Chapter 12 They talked for hours. They avoided any discussion of her life here. They preferred the illusion of normalcy. Ellie found it did make a difference that she was wearing the coat. More of her previous self returned. She wished he had met Steve before all this. She couldn't help but fall hard for this kind and sensitive man. He was a little like Frank in that way, but she would never consider Steve a wimp. He had some hard edges to him. She felt safe, protected, when she was with him. She knew that protection would disappear when Steve went back to school. It was well after noon when they returned to the house. Ellie stopped near the trees and removed the coat. She handed it to Steve wordlessly. He nodded, and rolled it up under his arm. He may be a big, strong man, but he still had to answer to his father. They ate lunch together in the kitchen. Steve seemed to be avoiding his father. Or perhaps he was hiding Ellie from him. After lunch, she touched his hand and caught his eye. "Aren't you going to make love to me before you go?" "I wouldn't want to hurt you." She knew he meant the beating she had received. "It's okay. As long as I'm not on my back." He nodded. They went upstairs. They didn't see Paul. In Steve's room, he removed his clothes, then slid onto the bed. She straddled him, forcing herself not to wince when her sore thighs touched her calves. It helped when she leaned forward. Ellie kissed him softly, taking control for the first time since she'd been taken. Steve didn't mind at all. Their lovemaking session lasted a long time. When Ellie felt his cock touch her wet slit for the first time that afternoon, she knew she loved this man. He was

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kind, strong, handsome. He no longer saw her as a sex slave. He loved her for who she was. The question remained: Could he save her from her father? The day was fading when they finally parted. Ellie knew that she would be called into the library soon to serve her master. She dared not cross him. Steve knew that as well. It was time for him to go. She could tell Steve was torn, yet he had his life, his responsibilities. Ellie still didn't know where Master Paul's house was located, and Steve never told her the name of his college for the same reason. But he did let it slip that it was 300 miles from here—just about a four-hour drive. That's not like it was across the country! He kissed her and she asked he would return. Steve became agitated. He was clearly trying to avoid the subject. "I don't know, Ellie. You still belong to Dad." I know that, but what does that have to do with when you might return?

"I wish you could stay." Unsaid was: and protect me. He grimaced. "I know. I can't. I have to go." He turned toward the door. She grabbed him, refusing to let him go. "Steve, what's going to happen to me? You must tell me." He looked at her, then touched her face with his fingers. "You signed some documents while you were with Master James, didn't you?" Ellie was stunned. What? She couldn't remember—maybe a silly little questionnaire…Wait! The bank cards. A sense of dread came over her. "Y-yes. Some sort of signature cards— Why?" Steve shook his head. "You're going to be a rich woman." He pulled away. "I've got to go." He heard his father call from downstairs. Before Ellie could ask him what he meant by that comment, he was gone, out the door and down the stairs. She

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heard his hurried goodbyes to his father, then the engine of his sports car. As it roared away, her hope went with it. Ellie knew she lost her only island of sanity—and perhaps her only chance to escape. Now she would be simply a sexual being to be used at her owner's whim. She cried over the loss of her love and the fear that came with knowing she was again at Paul's mercy. "Slave, come." Her Master's voice, she thought. Obediently, she walked down the steps as if to her doom.

Over the next few weeks, life became almost intolerable for Ellie. She missed Steve. She imagined he was back with his friends, forgetting all about her. She was here, pretending that her training was still in effect, doing whatever Paul wanted. See? I don't even think of him as Master any more.

And she couldn't help shake the sense of dread she had. Something Steve, out of his love for his father, couldn't share with her. Only a hint. You're going to be a rich woman.

What the hell did that mean?

***** April melted into May. The weather was nice enough to be outside every day. Ellie liked to be at the corral, watching Jorge run the horses through their paces. If Paul wasn't nearby, her leg would be chained to the railing. She tried to give him no sign that she wasn't completely compliant, but he still didn't trust her to stay put. Occasionally, as she stood there, Jorge would come over and demand a blowjob. Because he was Paul's employee, she dared not refuse, but she wished the Mexican would bathe more often.

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She knew that Lindo and Jorge stayed, in part, because the sex slaves were made available to them. Perhaps they were the only ones from the house staff who stayed after Paul began his strange odyssey.

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Chapter 13 Steve tried to throw himself back into college. He had a month left; it should be time to coast into his degree. His grades were good. All he had to do was pass his final exams. Yet his mind kept wandering back to his father's house—and Ellie. She's not worth this, he told himself. She's had so many men—and women— that her mind is all messed up. She's tainted goods. Besides, it doesn't matter what feelings he might have for her. She could never accept him—he would remind her of her torment. She'd want to take revenge on his father, something Steve could never allow. In a few weeks, it would be all over anyway. After Dad's big party—well, Steve didn't want to think about it. When you're a son who loves his father, despite his shortcomings, it's hard to admit that he might be wrong. That the way he lives his life might be considered sick by the outside world. Yet what other conclusion could you draw? It's best to stay away. Just let what happens, happen and move on.

***** "Ah, my dear," Master Paul took both of Ellie's hands into his. "You look good this morning." They were in the library. Lindo had gotten her up and unchained her from the wine cellar. She had been allowed to eat before being escorted to see Paul. Lindo left them alone. Paul made the girl bend over the chair again by the fireplace. Ellie looked up at Catherine's portrait and felt pinned by her frozen gaze. Now that she knew how Paul really felt about his long-dead wife, it made her feel, well, creepy. Steve had awakened her former self. Her world had cracked. It was as if all she had been doing, all the training she had been given, was a lie.

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She was going through the motions. How could she have allowed James or Paul to make her think she was simply a sex object? Ellie did admit to herself that she had changed over the many long months. She understood men's basic needs better. She also knew that her submissive side wasn't something to be ashamed of. Ellie had come to accept it as part of her awakening. "There's going to be a party," Paul was saying as he thrust into her. "A big one. When the weather warms up. In late May. You're going to be the guest of honor." "Yes, Master," she parroted. She pretended to be totally obedient. She was already claimed by him and everyone here—there was no need to give herself away by revealing her true feelings. She wanted to put him to sleep. If she could, she might be able to get away. Where would she go? She had wondered about that. If she went to the police, what proof did she have? Her word against that of everyone here— including, perhaps, Steve as well. Besides, there was too much she didn't know about this operation. Steve had only hinted at it. She had to find out more. It wouldn't be easy—she could only rely on herself. Damn Steve!

Paul finished and pulled away. Ellie could feel his sperm leaking from her. She felt shame. And loss. "Since we have no women here, I'm going to have to rely on you to tell me what you need to get all made up for the event," Paul continued. "So give me a list, and I'll have Lindo round them up for you." "Um. Let me think for a moment, Master." Ellie had trouble recalling the types of makeup she used just a few months ago. Haltingly, she gave him some brand names of her favorite cosmetics. The phone rang. Paul excused himself. "Hello? Oh, hi, son!" Ellie's ears pricked up. Steve! Would he ask about me? Is he coming home for a visit?

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"What? No, Steve. No. Listen—" He looked up sharply. "Steve? Hang on a sec." He pinned Ellie with his gaze. "Slut, go upstairs and take a bath. Be sure and shave." "Yes, Master." She turned and left immediately, wondering what Steve was telling his father. Ellie paused outside the library, and looked for Lindo. The house was silent. She stood, listening by the door. She was taking a big risk. "Steve, listen— No, I don't care… Look, you're in this as much as I am. For one thing, Crystal Palace is paying for your education… The 25 th. You're welcome to come… We've been over this. By summer, this won't matter… Hang on a sec." Ellie heard the phone being put down on the desk. She beat a hasty retreat. She padded up the stairs out of sight before Paul could come to the door. She closed the door of the bathroom silently and began running water into the tub. What the hell was he talking about with Steve? What is Steve so upset about? What did Paul mean, 'By summer this won't matter'? Was he referring to me?

Ellie had to find out what was going on—before it was too late. But how? She could only think of one clue. She turned the faucets down until the water was flowing in at a much slower rate. She was satisfied that the noise level was about the same in case Paul listened from downstairs. Ellie peeked out the bathroom door. The hallway was clear. She sneaked out, then tiptoed down to Steve's room. Slipping inside, she ran to the computer and turned it on. "Come on!" she whispered as it slowly booted up. Connecting to the Internet, she called up a search engine. Crystal Palace she typed in.

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Chapter 14 Steve paced his apartment, cursing under his breath. Damn him! Couldn't he change his plans one time? There were other girls he could use. He couldn't come right out and tell his father how he felt. There was something about this one, he thought. She's not like the others that have paraded through his father's life. God, it's getting worse, too. They used to stay for months, now they last just a few weeks before Dad ships them off. Steve could remember the first girl, Linda. Steve was just 14. He didn't understand what was going on. His father even tried to hide what he was doing, but that kind of thing can't be hidden for long. He had Linda wear clothes around the house and told Steve she was his new "girlfriend". Steve thought she was an odd woman for a girlfriend. For one, she was quite young, maybe 25. For another, she never slept with Dad—she had a small room off the kitchen. That told Steve she was more servant than equal. But what really caught his attention was her attitude. When you have a woman who is totally deferential, who instantly does what she's told to do, and who has a serene, almost bland expression on her face most of the time, you're bound to be suspicious, even if you are a kid. Linda lived at the house for months. Eventually, his father began to get careless about her true purpose for being there. Steve was actually ignorant for quite awhile, but it began to unravel one night when he came downstairs and heard them talking in the library. Curious, he snuck up to the closed door and put his ear against the panel. "Do you like my big dick in you, slut?" Steve heard his father saying. "Oh, yes, Master, fuck me," she responded. Steve pulled back, shocked.  Master? What the hell is that all about? He didn't want to hear any more. She was a prostitute! He ran upstairs and crawled into bed.

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From that point on, he watched Linda much more closely. It took him several more days to learn that "prostitute" wasn’t the right term for what Linda really was. The concept of submissive and dominant was not in the boy's experience. For that matter, neither was prostitute, but he knew what they did. He found out about his father's new lifestyle by asking his friend, Randy. Randy was 15 and much more experienced in sexual matters. He'd already had sex, for one thing. One of his parents' housemaids had seduced him one rainy afternoon while the folks were away. Her name was Lupe and she was just 23 herself. She had been hired just four months previously and desperately missed her family back in Mexico. While it was true that Lupe was naturally oversexed, she thought she might be able to gain an advantage if she had an ally in Randy. He was not hard to seduce. And she taught him a lot. She had awakened in Randy a great curiosity about all thinks sexual. He snuck some books out of his father's secret stash, he asked older boys and he even researched more sanitized sexual subjects at the local library. One day when Randy was over for a visit, Steve tried to get some answers to the many questions he had about Linda. He tried to cover his tracks by telling Randy he "heard of a friend who" but Randy wasn't stupid. He had seen Linda when he had arrived. He had his own suspicions about her just from the way she deferred to Steve's father. Usually the women in rich neighborhoods like theirs tended to put on airs, or act in charge of the household. Linda seemed to be more like Lupe than the girlfriend of a rich businessman. Steve's need to know was greater than his desire to keep his secrets, so he admitted that he was puzzled by his father's relationship with the young woman. If she was going to end up as his stepmother, he wanted to prepare himself for that. "No way, man," Randy told him. "I don't think it's like that." "Well, then what is she to him?"

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"I think she's submissive. You know, like a sex slave." Steve had never heard of such a thing. Randy patiently explained it in graphic terms. "No way! My father would never do that!" Randy shrugged. "There's one way to find out." When he told him, Steve was shocked. "No way! No way in hell!" "I'm tellin' ya. If you want to be sure, that's how to do it." "And what if you're wrong?" "I'm not wrong." He paused. "'Course, if you're too scared, maybe I could help you." Steve was intrigued. He listened to Randy's plan. It was a bit risky, but it excited Steve no end. He finally agreed. Steve knew his father would be attending a dinner the following Thursday night. He got his father's permission for Randy to come over and keep him company until he returned. Then Paul could give Randy a ride home. That night, after his Dad had gone, Randy and Steve went downstairs to Linda's room. No doubt she had expected to spend a quiet evening reading or watching the small TV Paul had allowed her to have. The knock on her door must've startled her, but the sight of the two young boys really threw her for a loop. They were the last people she expected to see that night. She pulled her robe tighter around her. Before she could recover, Steve spoke up in a stern voice: "I'm the son of the master of the house." Linda stared at him, shock and confusion on her face. Steve held his breath. If it was going to work, Randy had told him, it would depend entirely on how he conducted himself. Though his heart was pounding, he was determined to play the role. Linda looked at him for a few long seconds, then lowered her eyes. Steve and Randy exchanged silent glances. "I know my father gave strict instructions about me," Steve continued with the statement Randy had made him

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memorize. "But with my father gone, I am in charge. I won't ask you to violate my father's instructions. However, as the son of the master, I order you to do whatever my friend here desires." She briefly raised her eyes to Randy's face, then returned her gaze to the floor. "Let us in," Randy said. Linda stepped aside and gave them room to pass. "On your knees, slave," Randy continued. Steve shut the door. Linda hesitated, then seemed to melt like candle wax to her knees, her head down. "Lose the robe," Randy said sternly. She looked up, stricken, then looked over at Steve. Her mouth opened and closed. "What is it, slave? Speak!" "M-master said I must never appear naked in front of young Master Steve." Steve and Randy exchanged another glance. Master Steve! Randy thought quickly. Looking around the room, he spotted a way out of their dilemma. "Very well," he said. "Master Steve will sit on the bed, facing away from you. In that way, his back is to you. You are no longer in front of him." Steve understood. There was a mirror over the low dresser. He could see everything behind him. He got into position. "Now, slave, you are not violating your master's instructions. Drop the robe." Meekly, she did so. Steve learned everything he needed to know about his father's "girlfriend" that night.

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Chapter 15 Preparations for the big party continued. Master Paul hired a landscaping company to freshen the flowers and a decorating firm to set up a tent in the backyard. The caterers would be hired later. As in previous years, he told them he only wanted them to cook and deliver the food—he already had servers. In fact, the guests would be serving themselves. He expected about 30 guests—a small, tight-knit group of like-minded individuals that he had entertained for years. Some would be traveling from other states to attend Master Paul's party, which had a certain reputation in Dom/sub circles. Paul continued Ellie's training and was apparently pleased with her progress. For Ellie, it was easy to be of two minds—her life depended on it. She hoped Paul would believe her to be so thoroughly conditioned that he might trust her more by the time the party date arrived. If he would just give her an opening, she might be able to slip away unnoticed. That meant he had to leave her unchained when she was out of sight of Paul, Lindo or Jorge. So far, he had been very cautious. Ellie prayed that would change. She did her part. No matter what he ordered her to do, she did it without question. Her biggest test came just one week before the party. Master Paul had called her into his library, where a woman in a nurse's uniform waited with him. Behind them, a portable examination table had been set up. Ellie tried to hide her shock. What was this for? "Slave, get on the table." His voice was firm. She lowered her head and obeyed. Once in position, Paul cranked one end to raise her torso up. Ellie was very nervous. She didn't like the way this was going. Paul tied her wrists to the sides of the table, then pulled her ankles wide apart and fastened them into position.

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"Relax," the woman said. "This won't hurt very much." Easy for you to say!

The nurse brought out a tray of instruments. Ellie could see needles and other implements of torture. She began to shake and would have bolted if she wasn't already tied down. "Wh-wh-" she couldn't get the words out. "Hush, slut!" Master Paul commanded. The woman swabbed Ellie's nipples with a solution. Within minutes, she felt them grow numb. With horror, she watched her do the same thing to her labia. Oh my god! They are going to pierce me!

She struggled until Paul put his hand on her forehead. "It's all right, slave. I want you to look pretty for our guests. Mistress Eva has done this many times.  Just lie back." "Maybe she'd like a blindfold," Eva suggested to Paul. "No, I want her to see. It will enforce my domination over her." So Ellie watched as Eva thumbed her right nipple until it was hard. Ellie was glad she couldn't feel it much. Holding the nipple firmly between her left thumb and forefinger, Eva stretched it out, then drove a needle through the base with her right hand. Ellie gasped aloud as nerve endings inside the nipple erupted in pain. She looked down to see small droplets of blood ooze out. Eva daubed it with alcohol. Eva left the needle in and before Ellie could react, quickly repeated the process on her left nipple. The double pain ached dully in her breasts. Eva moved down to between Ellie's legs. "P-Please, Master," Ellie gasped. "Hush, slut. First the pain, then the pleasure." First one, then the other lip was pierced. Ellie was surprised to find that it didn't hurt as much as her breasts did. Leaving the needles in place for the moment, Eva returned to Ellie's nipples. She rotated the needles to loosen and widen the holes on her right breast. In her left hand, she held a small gold ring. It was really quite beautiful, Ellie had to

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admit. As she pulled the needle free with one hand, Eva smoothly inserted the prong of the gold ring with the other and clipped it into place. The small ring hung down about a half-inch below her nipple. Ellie was busy staring at it while Eva completed the job on her left breast. It didn't hurt much any more. Now she had two matching rings. Eva daubed both again with the alcohol. The blood had stopped. "They're beautiful," Ellie breathed. Paul looked pleased. Ellie watched, fascinated, as Eva leaned down between her legs and inserted two similar, but slightly smaller and thicker gold rings. One in each labia, about one-third of the way down, just below where her clit would poke out. Ellie was grateful that they didn't pierce her clit. Eva finished and daubed anti-bacterial cream around the rings. Ellie was surprised to find herself dripping wet. How could piercings be so erotic? Eva noticed her condition. After she put the cream away, she returned to stroke her slit with her middle finger. “Aaaahh,” Ellie breathed. She was going to come; she could feel it. She opened her legs slightly for the woman. “P-please, Master, may I come?” “Yes, I think you’ve earned it, my slave.” No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Ellie climaxed against Eva’s finger. She threw her head back and let the ripple of pleasure wash through her. “My god, my god,” she said. She couldn’t seem to help herself—she came as easily as Angie now. Eva removed her hand. Master and Mistress watched the slut come down from her high. "Now, you truly look ready for our guests," Paul was saying. "Just one more small thing." Ellie blanched and looked up. Master was handing her a small jar. "This is a depilatory designed for 'sensitive' areas. I want you to use this every other day for the rest of the week until all the stubble is gone. Then you won't have to shave any more."

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She was actually relieved that was all Master wanted. She expected another painful piercing. Ellie nodded and admired her new jewelry as he untied her and helped her off the table. "Thank Mistress Eva." "Thank you, Mistress. They're beautiful," Ellie said dutifully. "No, slut, I mean thank her properly." Ellie looked over to see Eva leaning against the table, her white dress hiked up over her hips. She wasn't wearing panties and she was shaved bare. Ellie dropped down and "thanked" the Mistress properly until the woman came noisily. Ellie expected Master would want to christen her while wearing the new  jewelry, but was surprised to hear him tell her to go upstairs and take a bath. "It will clean and protect the wounds," he explained. "Afterwards, put some more alcohol on them." She nodded and left. It was her imagination, but she thought she could hear herself jingle as she walked.

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Chapter 16 The day of the party dawned bright and clear. The temperature was supposed to hit 85 degrees—Master could not have asked for better weather. The tent was up, the grounds looked immaculate; the food was soon to arrive. Already some guests had come in the night before, and Paul had put them in unused rooms of the house, including Steve's. To Ellie, that meant his son would not be returning for the party. Ellie awoke on her cot in the wine cellar. To her dismay, she had been chained every night. Master kept close tabs on her. She had had no chance to run away in the last few days. If anything, he had paid more attention to her. But not to use her for his pleasure. Yes, he did fuck her in the library the day after her piercings had been inserted. Since then, however, he merely teased her. As a sex slave, Ellie had grown to expect regular sex. It fulfilled a gnawing need in her. For the last five days, Master would keep her within reach to fondle her nipples and rings, or to stroke her cleft—all without letting her come. In fact, he gave her strict orders not to. At night, to ensure that she didn't cheat and pleasure herself, her arms were fastened behind her. When she bathed, Paul or Lindo would watch her to make sure she didn't pleasure herself while in the tub. When Lindo watched her, he was especially cruel, taking his large cock out of his pants for Ellie to see while she bathed. Every other day, she had used the depilatory. Even Ellie was pleased with the result—her mound was as smooth as a baby's bottom. Now it was Saturday, and Ellie was ready for release. She knew that she would be the guest of honor and imagined that would include sex. She was at high pitch, anticipating the event.

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Despite her body's needs, she couldn't forget about Steve—or her growing suspicions about what awaited her today and in the future. When she had typed in "Crystal Palace" in Steve's computer two days ago, it had returned several pages of sites. She had scanned past the ones about churches and caves, then stopped when she found something called crystalpalace2002.com. She clicked on it. It was a porn site. Is this it? Ellie had trouble believing an erudite man like Paul could be behind this smut. The home page described the typical video and photographic offerings that could be found on any such site. When she tried to explore it further, a sign-in box cropped up. Shit! I need a  password. Ellie had been trying to figure out her next move when she heard

voices carrying up from downstairs. Quickly, she shut off the computer and opened Steve's door a crack. Someone was coming upstairs! Thinking rapidly, Ellie had slipped out he door and turned left, away from the bathroom. There was a linen closet there. She grabbed a towel just as Master Paul appeared around the corner. "Slave?" he questioned. "Just getting a new towel, Master." He nodded, looking briefly at the closed door to Steve's room, then he turned and walked down to his bedroom. Ellie breathed a sigh of relief. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She peeked over the railing to see Lindo coming up the stairs, probably to watch her bathe, to make sure she didn’t try to come. Meekly, she slipped back into the bathroom. Damn! She had been so close!

Sitting in the tub under Lindo’s gaze, Ellie had tried to piece it together, but it didn't make sense at first. If Crystal Palace was a common porn site, did Paul own it? Why would a successful man who invested for a living bother with small potatoes like that? She didn't know a porn site could be such a big moneymaker . Am I missing something?

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Chapter 17 Saturday morning, Ellie was given an enema, then bathed and perfumed by two of the Mistresses who had arrived last night. They had given their names as Mistress Daphne and Mistress Nancy. Daphne was a cute little butterball of a woman about 40. Nancy was a little older, and tall and thin, though wide in the hips. Side by side, they looked like a bowling ball and pin. They put makeup on Ellie's face, then helped her style her hair, which had grown out a few inches since she had been forced to clip it off so long ago. Ellie sat, naked and patient, while the two fussed over her. One would work on her hair or her face while the other one kept her sexually aroused. She would gently brush her nipples or tug at the gold loops, or run a manicured finger up along her wet slit. Ellie squirmed with desire. She knew they wanted her fully engaged when the festivities begun. Just how it would play out, she had no idea. She could only imagine. Worry gnawed at her. About eleven, guests began arriving. Master Paul greeted each one warmly and sent them outside to join the ones who had arrived the previous night. There was quite an old-home-week feeling in the air as Ellie heard the guests greet each other like long-lost friends. They're all sick, she thought. Someone was with Ellie every minute now. She would not be allowed her chance. She had hoped she could steal a car and drive through the gate. If she could get to the road, she might be able to flag someone down. A screaming naked woman always draws attention. For breakfast, Ellie had been given toast and coffee. Afterwards, Daphne and Nancy gave her a tall glass of juice and told her to drink it all. It tasted a little funny, but she complied with their wishes.

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Within 15 minutes, Ellie felt flushed. Her body tingled. Now when one of the Mistresses stroked her, she found herself vibrating like a guitar string that was wound too tight. They must've slipped me some kind of aphrodisiac. Ellie was led outside to the tent. It had open sides, so people could look in. A heavy metal stake had been pounded into the center, with tables and chairs around it in a circle. She was placed near the stake and her ankle was fastened to it with a six-foot chain. Ellie's heart sank. There would be no escaping whatever cruel games they had planned. The guests admired her frankly. Many came over and touched her breasts or cupped their hands over her mound, being careful not to set her off. The drug and her enforced celibacy made Ellie wild with desire. She stood there for more than an hour while people drifted in and out. Someone began setting up a video camera. Others had cameras with them, she noticed. Her suspicions about Crystal Palace began to fall into place. They were going to film her in her debasement, fucking and sucking dozens of people. Videos would be made and edited, then sold on the web site. To keep Ellie from eventually escaping and going to the police, some of the profits would be siphoned into her bank account—the one they had opened for her after she signed the cards. Once they had her  alleged complicity, they would have her under their hold forever. If she ever tried to have them arrested, they could say she was a full participant and point to her bank balance as  proof.

And there was nothing Ellie could do about it. This had been going on for several years. These cruel men and women were good at this game. Any thoughts she had of escaping vanished as she stood there, shivering despite the heat, waiting for the party to begin.

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Chapter 18  Just before 2 o'clock, Mistresses Daphne and Nancy approached Ellie and forced a penis gag into her mouth. It was short, but wide, forcing her jaws apart. The rubber penis was anatomically correct and Ellie could feel the rounded edge of the head with her tongue. Why? Don't they expect me to suck them off? The Mistresses didn't explain. Next, they clipped a Y-shaped, fine chain to her nipple rings. A similar chain was attached to her labia rings. The chains were long—maybe six or seven feet. The women handed the ends to two men who sat nearby. Ellie was confused. The party began in earnest. The guests gathered around Ellie and began putting masks on. So they can't be recognized in the videos, she realized. Only her face would be seen. Lights went on, illuminating Ellie. "Ladies and gentlemen! May I have your attention!" Paul was wearing a Lone Ranger mask adorned with blue rhinestones. "Welcome to our webcast!" Webcast! This was going out live?!

"Today, we have the pleasure of welcoming Ellie Martinson, a former career woman at ForeKnowledge Software who always had a secret desire to be a sex slave." Ellie burned at hearing her full name and former job being used and the lies being told about her. She wanted to shout in her defense. Of course, the gag prevented it. "Now, I know to many of you watching today, that may seem strange. But there are a lot of women who go through life hiding their secret desires. They may play out their fantasies with their husbands or boyfriends, but few have the courage to truly experience them like Ellie here. "Several months ago, Ellie found our little club on the Internet and approached us about how she might become a sex slave. We were only too happy to help her. We have helped many such women find their true selves.

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"Not only is Ellie finally experiencing her secret desire, she's also going to become a wealthy woman because of it. If there are any women out there who have such desires, contact us. Everything we do is voluntary and according to the laws of the United States." Ellie shook her head and made sounds in her throat. The camera panned away from her to the assembled guests as a stern-looking man came up and whispered, "Don't be a hero. The last one who tried it ended up dead." His words froze her to the spot. They wouldn't kill me, would they? Are they that depraved?

"We're going to start with some oral sex, then we'll move to the main event," Paul was saying. Good! They'll have to remove the gag. She would shout, she would scream, she would— A woman in a silver mask stepped up close and raised her miniskirt. She was nude underneath. Holding Ellie's head firmly with one hand, she flipped the catch on the gag, pulled it free, then pulled Ellie's mouth to her cunt. "I'm—" Ellie began, then her face was thrust into the woman's crotch. She resisted giving this woman pleasure. Suddenly, she felt the rings on her labia lips being pulled—hard. The rings on her nipples were yanked in the opposite direction. Tears came to her eyes. She licked the woman's slit once and the pain stopped. She hesitated and the pain returned. The message was clear: As long as she did what she was told, she would not be punished. She licked—how could she not? She would try to protest her kidnapping, torture and forced sex later, she told herself. Falling back onto her training, Ellie stroked the woman's clit until she had a satisfying orgasm. She was immediately replaced by a gentleman who already had his cock freed from his pants. "I'm being—"

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Again, the chain yanked on her nipples and again she was pulled to his cock. She almost bit him, but a painful pull on the chains warned her not to try. So she pleasured this man as well. She was beginning to realize that these people knew all the slaves' tricks. After awhile, any protests would seem to be pointless. Eventually, all of the women would succumb, giving pleasure and getting raped in return. Then she would belong to them forever. "STOP!" The man holding her to his cock stopped. Ellie managed to pull away and turn her head. Steve was standing at the entrance to the tent. Thank god! He came! Paul suddenly realized that his son wasn't wearing a mask. He made a slashing signal across this throat to the cameraman and the lights died. "What the hell are you doing! You're ruining the broadcast!" "I came to get Ellie. This party is over," Steve said. There was an audible gasp from the members. Paul strode to his son. "The hell you say! This is my party and my guests and my slave and you don't have a damn thing to say about it." "Yes, I do. Because I know what's really going on here. And yes, I've even participated before. I'm just as guilty as all of you. But I swear; if you don't release Ellie, I'm going to the police. We'll all go to jail." There was murmuring in the crowd. Several of the men were clearly c learly angry. "Why, Steve? Why do you care so much about a cheap whore?" He shook his head. "She's not a cheap whore." His dad recoiled. Steve plunged ahead. "Look, this is all wrong, you all must know that. You're rich, so you think you can get away with it. When I was younger, I went along because it seemed like such a big part of Dad's life.

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"But now, after meeting Ellie, I know I can't be a party to this any longer. She doesn't deserve this. No woman deserves this." His voice broke. "I-I think I might be falling in love with her." Everyone's mouth fell open in unison. Ellie looked up at him, her heart beating fast. To hear Steve admit this in front of everyone filled her with a joy she hadn't felt in months. "Nooo," Paul breathed. "You can't—not my son. You can do a lot better than some well-fucked slut." "She's only that way because she was kidnapped, ripped from her former life. If any of you had been treated like Ellie, you would've become sex slaves just like her." "You can't do this—the broadcast has already begun," said a tall angry man, his face scowling. He ripped off his mask. "There are people online right now, wondering what the hell happened. If we don't resume the broadcast, they're going to know something is wrong. The police could get involved." "That's the chance you're going to have to take," Steve retorted. "If you give everyone their money back, maybe it will be a non-issue." Paul shook his head. "No, we've already used her real name and mentioned her former job. It's too late, Steve. If we let her go now, we'll all go to jail—you included." "Maybe she won't press charges," he said, the first note of uncertainty creeping into his voice. He looked at Ellie. She stared back at him. "I don't know. I just want to go home." She didn't sound very convincing. "No way," the big man said, approaching Steve. "You get out of here, NOW! Or we'll throw you out." "Wait—" Paul stepped forward, too late. The big man reached for Steve, but that turned out to be an ill-advised move, considering the young man was just three years out of the Marines. Steve

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sidestepped, caught the man's arm, swept his feet out from under him and tossed him into a table. He went down noisily. "Wait! Wait!" Paul ran between the men. "That's enough! Roger," he pointed a shaking finger at the fallen man, "don't you dare attack my son. We can work this out…Let me think." The crowd murmured anew. Clearly, they felt trapped. Once her name had been announced, those people who had been looking for her all these months would try to track her down. Though the website was well shielded by dummy corporations, a court order might possibly reveal the true owners. If so, their house of cards would come tumbling down when faced with an angry kidnapping victim. To have her testimony supported by Steve would put them all in jail. A few men in the crowd, including Roger, thought the best thing to do would be to kill Steve, finish the broadcast, then kill the girl. But they knew that Paul would never agree. Besides, most of them would never stoop to murder. They were “lovers”, not fighters. No one could think of a way out. The broadcast had to be resumed—and soon. If it didn't, they had to come up with an explanation that would avert suspicion, especially considering that Ellie had been missing for months. The solution occurred to Ellie and Steve at the same time. She looked across the tent at the handsome man and saw the same thought in his eyes. "I have a solution," Steve said, hushing the crowd at once. They waited, all eyes on him. "I'll marry her." The crowd gasped again. "You must be joking," his father said. They could see it on his face—to have a slut for a daughter-in-law? Horrors! "No, hear me out," he continued. "It's the only way. We start up the broadcast long enough to tell them she decided—of her own free will—not to continue. That being a sex slave wasn't really what she wanted to do after all. You refund

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the money for the broadcast. The police may investigate because she's been missing. But if she's my wife, she can't be made to testify against me, and she won't testify against you because I'd go to jail as well. Besides, I have the feeling she won't want to." He stopped and looked at Ellie. "That is, if she'll agree to marry me." Ellie just nodded, tears falling from her eyes. She was willing to give up her anger in exchange for this amazing man. Paul came over to her. "But, Steve, you've only known her a month!" "I know this is a shock to you, Dad, that I could be in love with one of your sex slaves. It was a shock to me, too. But Ellie is special. She makes me feel complete." "But-but what if this ideal love you have isn't real? If it fell apart, we'd be right back where we are now." "No," Steve said. "Because I'd have to give her half my inheritance. That should protect you." Paul made a strangling sound in his throat and turned away. The members talked low to each other, trying to find a flaw in the logic. "What about the other girls?" Ellie spoke up suddenly. "What happened to them?" Paul looked nervous. Steve spoke up for him. "Yes, that could be a problem. After they left here, they were rented out to various websites to perform more sex acts. Part of their earnings went to their own bank accounts, of course, but most of the money went to my father." "So he doesn't have any other 'investments'? He's making a living as a pimp?" Paul lowered his head. "I-I had other investments before Catherine died." Steve shrugged. "You could go back to them. You won't make as much money…

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"As for the other women, they'll have to be well compensated. I'm not sure they'll agree, but it's all I can think of." The crowd was silent, thinking. It did make a certain sense. Ellie, however, wasn't satisfied. "There's one more issue. And it's non-negotiable." They turned to stare at this impudent woman. To think that just a few minutes ago, she had been a demure slave, ready to pleasure them in any way they desired! "Master James," Ellie went on. "We have to do something about his little operation." "No, no," Paul shook his head. "That's not our problem. He's a separate issue. Besides, if we bring him down, he'll bring us down." Ellie stared at Paul, pinning him with her gaze. "It's non-negotiable," she repeated. "How can I make him stop?" "I think I know a way," she said.

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Epilogue Ellie relaxed on the king-sized bed in the small estate she shared with Steve. She was naked, of course—she liked being naked. And she still wore her jewelry. It turned Steve on so. She was free to take it out whenever she chose. Their marriage ceremony had been a small affair. Just family and friends. It had taken place in July, after Steve had graduated. Paul was there, of course. Every time he looked at Ellie, dressed up in her off-white gown, he seemed to bite his tongue. Steve had been marvelous, accepting her as if she simply had had some previous lovers, not that she was a sex toy at the hands of James or his father. She admired him for that. She was also deeply in love. It had taken awhile to explain their way out of the mess that had been left behind when Ellie had been kidnapped. She denied it, of course, telling the police she had this secret desire and had to try it out. But she had fallen in love with Steve along the way and decided against that lifestyle. Without a victim, there could be no kidnapping. Yes, what had happened to her was terrible—just terrible. So instead of dwelling on it, she forced herself to focus on what she had gained in return. She had found the man of her dreams—strong, kind and handsome. Steve’s strength protected her, yet his sensitivity allowed her the freedom she needed. Ellie discovered she didn’t want to be in control all the time. Getting the other women out of their predicament took more doing—and a lot more money. The ex-slaves were given new identities and enough money to start their lives over somewhere else, if they kept quiet about their ordeals. Personally, Ellie wanted to see the entire club of dominants rounded up and thrown in jail, but she had agreed it was the only realistic solution. “Master” James hadn't been the problem Paul had expected. As Ellie had suspected, after he sold off Angie to that cruel man, James realized just how

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much he had missed her. When Paul approached him with his proposal, he took it immediately. Ellie had seen how James really felt about the pixie—and how she felt about him. Yes, she had started out a kidnap victim, but over time had grown to love the rugged man. The club bought her back from Andre and had given James and Angie enough money to last them for a lifetime. The last Ellie heard they had moved to Europe. The remaining girls in the dungeon, Anna and the two new ones, had been released quietly and given a cash settlement to help them overcome their ordeal. They didn’t agree to keep quiet, however. The police were still searching for the man responsible, but had no leads. It was difficult for them to track someone that the women only knew as “Master.” All in all, it had worked out about the best as could be expected, Ellie thought. She wound up with a terrific man who loved her and she didn't have to be the tough-as-nails businesswoman she had grown to despise. Ellie heard Steve coming back in from the pool. Toweling off his dark hair, he walked in, dressed in his swim trunks. Slipping off the bed, she got down on her knees in front of him as he approached. He looked down at her and grinned. "Master, how may I please you?" she smiled and tugged at the waistband of his trunks. Her smile widened when he answered her. Pretending to be a sex slave, Ellie thought contentedly, had turned out to be a lot more erotic than actually being one.

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