Dark Erotic Fiction

Chapter 90: Jim’s Night Continues

After Jim finished fucking Louise, he laid there for a while. He was exhausted after two magnificent experiences. He finally rose from Louise and used the bathroom again, then returned to Louise and freed her from the bed. He told Louise, “Take out Delia’s gag, take out her dildos, then uncuff her hands. Leave the leg iron on. Get another leg iron and attach yourself to the other end of the couch in the same way.” He watched, taking pleasure in having his commands carried out by a nude woman on a nude woman. When Louise was done, Jim filled three glasses with the wine that had been left for him, handed a glass to each slave, and sat between them.

“I could get used to this,” he said. He considered for a while, then asked, “Would Joan actually have had you whipped if I didn’t fuck you?” he asked Delia.

Delia said, “I didn’t want to find out.”

Louise put in, “I don’t think so, if you had just decided to fuck me instead. If she had done something to get you not to fuck her, then maybe Joan would have had her whipped.”

Delia shuddered.

The three of them finished their wine, and Jim yawned widely. “I’m beat. Let’s go to bed.” He handed Louise a cuff key and told her to release herself and Delia, then told them to use the bathroom. When they returned, he had them get into the bed on either side of him. He lay on his side, and had Louise lay on her side in front of him, her back to him, and Delia lie behind him, her front to his back. He liked the double spoon. They were all asleep shortly.

Chapter 91: Jim’s Morning

In the morning Delia woke first, and slipped out of bed to use the bathroom. She was careful not to disturb the man whom she had been given to for the night. She was beginning to be terrified of men in general. Everything in her life scared her. She crept back into bed and resumed her position.

Jim slowly woke a while later. When he moved, Louise woke too. Jim rose, and the two girls rose also. Jim used the bathroom and laid back down while Louise used it. When she came out, he motioned to her to join him on the bed. “I’d like to try doggy style,” he told her, and she immediately got on her hands and knees and spread her legs. He played for a while, getting her wet with her cooperation. He plunged in, and went for a wild ride. When he was finished, he was covered with sweat, as was Louise. He said, “That’s a big shower. Everyone in!”

The shower was indeed large, and he noted hooks and eye bolts for securing slaves. That was interesting. For this shower, however, he just enjoyed the company and the social occasion, washing various parts of the women and having them wash him. When it was over, the girls dried him off, then dried themselves when he went to dress.

Louise emerged from the bathroom first, and Jim asked her, quietly, “Will you be in charge of her tonight?”

“I think so. I’m almost always in charge of her.”

“Good. I’m coming back tonight to use her. Please arrange her for anal sex. Don’t tell her what’s going to happen.”

“Of course. I’ll see what bondage equipment is available for anal sex and I’ll set it up for you. Do you want her blindfolded?”

“No. Just don’t tell her it’s me that’s coming back.”

“I will do as you command.”

Jim thought, again, that he could get used to this. He left the Fuck Room and the bar to get some breakfast and go to work. As he walked, he wondered about Joan. She was submissive to him, but also somewhat aggressive in seeking his attention, and she was in charge of all those slaves in the bar. Some of them apparently feared her. She was submissive to him and to her owner, but dominant over the other slaves. He thought that was a little strange, but as he thought about it, he realized that he’d seen that before in businesses that used slaves. He knew he could get used to having Joan around, and not because she gave him side benefits like the previous night. He wondered if he could buy her, but knew that she would be way out of his price range, and that she would be free in a year, or able to change her asset contract then, anyway. As he daydreamed on, he wondered if you could marry a slave, and how that would be possible with a slave owned by someone else. He stopped suddenly, realizing that he had been thinking about marrying Joan — something that hadn’t crossed his mind before with any other girl. He thought, I hope I get used to this.

Chapter 92: Louise and Delia Talk

At breakfast, Louise attached Delia’s leash to the chair with the cuffs as she did at every meal. Delia didn’t say anything about it, even though she was the only white collar that got that treatment. Over breakfast, which she admitted to herself was pretty good, they talked about the night before and slave life in general.

“I’d have to say that that was the best fucking I’ve gotten, just ahead of that guy that told me I’d turned him down for a date and Mr. Johnson, and way ahead of any of the others. How did you like it?”

“I loved it. I haven’t done it very many times, and not at all for almost a year until Mr. Johnson and him. I worried that being tied down would make it less enjoyable, but it was great. That might be because both of them are better at fucking than the boys I had before, or maybe I just like it.”

Delia grinned and said, “I’ve done it more, both tied and not tied, and both that guy last night and Mr. Johnson are much better than average. If we see a goofy grin on Joan’s face, we’ll know why.” Delia had looked around first before saying that, and spoken quietly, not wanting to violate Mr. Johnson’s command to keep it from the other slaves.

Louise grinned back and nodded. “I’d like to get more of him, but I don’t think we’ll see much of him unless she’s busy. Mr. Johnson took her home. If he does it again, maybe we’ll get this chance again.”

“Unless he’s too happy. She might give him some other girls then.”

“I hope not.”

Louise cuffed Delia, took the trays to the window, then led Delia off for more suck training. Delia was getting good scores from the machine, and not getting many shocks. Louise was actually getting more shocks than Delia because she was getting far more advanced programs. When Delia laughed about it, Louise set Delia on one of the advanced programs, then had to stop it because of the massive shocks that Delia got. Delia didn’t tease Louise any more after that. That afternoon, they both were on suck duty until 6PM, an earlier shift than usual for them. When they went off duty, they got supper, then were ordered to the white-collar waiting area.

Chapter 93: Louise Goes Green

When they got there, a supervisor put a green cover on Louise’s collar and asked her if she had read the green-collar book.

“Yes, I’ve read it, and the waitress book.”

“You won’t need the waitress book now, but it’s good you’ve read it. Have you read them, Delia?”

“The green-collar book, yes. The waitress book, not all the way through.”

“For the next two hours, Louise, you will be a green-collar leader for Delia. She will get a few sucks, and you will be in charge of getting her prepared, leading her, presenting her, and getting her back here for cleaning. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Put her in the waiting area, then watch the floor with the other leaders. I’ll see that you get assignments that shouldn’t go wrong this first time. We need some good green-collars, and you show some promise. If you can do it, it will be a better life.”

“Thank you.” Louise led Delia to the waiting area, locked her to a chair, and uncuffed her.

After about half an hour, the supervisor signalled Louise. Louise got Delia, cuffed her, got her mouth prepared, and led her to the entrance to the bar floor. The supervisor pointed to a table with one man at it. Louise nodded and led Delia to the table. “Welcome to Suckers, sir. Please expose yourself so this sucker may begin.”

Delia did her usual good job, and Louise asked afterward. “Thank you for using the services of Suckers. How did you like the service?” The customer was well satisfied. Louise led Delia back to the cleaning area and handed her over to a cleaner. The supervisor said, “Well done. I’ll have another for her in about five minutes.”

When the supervisor pointed out the next customer for Delia, Louise froze. It was the boy that had sold her friends pot, then turned them in, resulting in Louise becoming a slave with the others. She thought quickly. She didn’t want to deal with him, but she didn’t want to refuse an order, either. Then it hit her. As the supervisor noticed her hesitation, Louise said, “That boy isn’t old enough to be drinking that drink. It isn’t 3.2 beer. I knew him before…” She let it trail off.

The supervisor took her seriously. She picked up a phone and called the bouncer, one of the few male employees. Soon the bouncer was asking the boy for his ID, which the boy handed over under protest. The bouncer examined it closely, then apparently found fault with it, because he motioned the boy to leave the bar, and kept the ID. He came over to the supervisor. “Good call. It was a good fake, enough to get past a quick look at the door, but not good enough to pass a close inspection. He hadn’t touched his drink yet, so we’ll probably be OK if it was a sting. Thanks.”

The supervisor replied, “I’m glad we were able to help. Louise, here, told me that he was underage.” The bouncer acknowledged this, then returned to the front of the bar. The supervisor said, “Good job. If you hadn’t said anything, we could have gotten into trouble. Most slaves wouldn’t have mentioned it, because it doesn’t help them to. You are going to find that it does help you. I’m writing an incident report and you will have a prominent part in it. That will be good for you.”

Louise thanked her, and thought, I didn’t do it to help this bar, but it helped me in two ways.

They stayed on duty longer than two hours. At about 11PM, they got off duty after eight more sucks. They went to the Fuck Room, showered, and Louise put Delia on a small footstool-like contraction that was on the bed. It had a sloping top that Delia’s torso rested on, with a neck restraint and straps to hold her upper arms to the front legs. The back legs of the device were spread wider than the front, and had straps for just above the knee and the upper thigh. When Delia was strapped in and helpless, Louise started lubricating her anus.

“Oh, no, not that. I always hated when boys tried to do that to me.”

“Orders are orders. I’ll get you greased up good so it will go easier.” Louise lubricated the external part, pushed some just inside, then put an applicator on the tube of lube and squeezed a large quantity of it inside Delia, getting some of it in quite deeply. She then lubed Delia’s front entrance, just to cover all the bases. Then they waited until Jim arrived. He looked at the arrangement, said, “That’s good,” disrobed, and got into position behind Delia. Louise intervened with a condom, and at his nod put it on him. He said, “Hello, Delia.” Then he slowly pushed his way inside, savoring the tightness and heat. When he was fully seated, he stopped to enjoy the sensation and to let her body adjust to his presence.

Delia took it in silence. It wasn’t as bad as previous experiences had been, perhaps because of the good lubrication, or perhaps because he had taken his time instead of ramming himself inside. She didn’t think it was as good as vaginal sex, but it was better than a whipping.

Jim started long, slow strokes. He found it difficult to reach Delia’s clit, so he told Louise to massage it for him. She snaked a hand in underneath the bondage device, found the nub, and started a slow rub. Delia stopped thinking about how she preferred other kinds of sex and started enjoying the experience.

Jim lasted longer than he thought he would, but finally climaxed, then stayed still until he softened. He withdrew and used the bathroom. Louise didn’t release Delia, but kept up the rubbing, bringing Delia to a third orgasm.

When Jim came back, he said, “Release her.” Louise did so, and he led them both to the couch, where he cuddled them both. He addressed Delia. “How did you like that?”

She was surprised at the question, but answered, “It was enjoyable, especially with the rubbing.”

“How did it compare to normal sex?”

She hesitated, then decided that the truth was the best option. “I like vaginal sex better, but that was OK. It was much better than my previous experience with anal.”

Jim asked a few more questions, wanting to know how to make it better, because he wanted to do it with Joan, and this chance for experimentation would help him with making it good for her.

After that, the girls took turns, one kissing him and one sucking him. When his erection became full and sustained, he had Louise sit on his lap and take him into her vagina, and they slowly bounced their way to orgasm. They slept the night the same way as before.

Chapter 94: Joan Dines, Dances, Delights

Joan found herself in a high-end restaurant. She thought her dress wasn’t up to the standard of the other women, but George told her it was fine. She looked at the other women and decided that many of them were slaves. Most were wearing evening gowns and looked gorgeous, but didn’t look happy. George noticed the same thing, then saw that Joan looked happy and excited. It was good that she was happy being with him. It seemed that a lot of other slaves didn’t enjoy fine dining with owners, or renters. He dismissed the thought and kept his attention on Joan and the great day that they had.

Much conversation ensued, not about business but about childhood, lives, families, and pastimes. Joan knew George a lot better at the end of the dinner than before, even though she had been working with him and fucking him for a year. She was beginning to feel much closer to him, which bothered her a bit — he was her owner, and he could punish her as well as treat her well. She thought it was unlikely that he would be harsh, but that was probably what made the other women, who she thought were slaves, less than happy. As time went on, many of the other couples finished and left. About half of the women were cuffed after they rose from the table, confirming Joan’s suspicions for some of them.

She asked him, “Are there any free women in here?”

He replied, “Yes, I recognize a few. This place has specialized somewhat in dining with slaves. That’s not why I brought you here. It’s been a favorite place for many years. Are you finished? If you are, let’s go next door and go dancing.”

Joan was done and was eager to go dancing. George settled the bill and led her next door, without cuffs, which also made her happy. The nightclub was dark and intimate, with good ventilation and attentive staff. The dances were older, ballroom-style, and she was glad she’d taken a class in that kind of dancing. She wondered how many of the other women present were slaves, but it was harder to tell — they seemed happier, perhaps because of the dancing.

After several happy hours, George took her home with him. She expected immediate sex, but he surprised her and got out wine, and they sat in the living room watching a fire crackle, gently caressing each other. They slowly loosened each others clothes, and he finally slipped her dress over her head, delighted to find no underwear. She helped him out of the remainder of his clothes, and they had slow delicious sex on the rug near the fire. She wondered if this was what free women considered lovemaking. She only had Jim to compare this to, and she knew he didn’t have the experience to build up to something like this. They cuddled and drifted off. She woke about 2AM, feeling cold — the fire had burned out. She woke George and they moved off to his bed to finish the night.

The scene: Eastlake’s Channel 17 conference room.

Hugh Mealy, the director of the news division and my boss, is irate.

“We just spent a LOT of money on buying Melissa and those other 3 teen hotties to do this special to boost ratings, and what have we got? Bumbkis. Aside from the footage of them being processed into slaves, we’ve got, let me see, 0 minutes of usable tape. Does any one have any thing to say about this? And yes, I mean you Mathew”

That would be me, Mathew Creighton, the news director of this fine station. “I sent you the fucking report, not my fault you didn’t read it. Let me spell it out for you. The original plan would have resulted in us getting our FCC license pulled. Fortunately, I think I have found a way around it. I never thought I would say it, but thank all the small gods and devils that we have a less than ideal placement of our antenna and a weak transmitter.”

Hugh scowled at me. “What does that have to do with any thing?”

“Well, as of this morning, we are no longer a pure broadcast station. We are a simulcast station. Given that well over 80% of our audience sees us on either cable or satellite, this isn’t just a paper conversion, either. What this means is that for our cable and satellite markets, we don’t have to follow the current broadcast restrictions on local content.”

Hugh looked a little less angry. “And this means?”

I go on “What it means is that as long as we do it after 9:30 PM and not on Sunday, we can show “adult themes and content” on the cable and satellite side of our operation. We still can’t show, say, penetration or a cum shot, but we can show full nudity and torture. Legal is still looking into if we can show ‘live death’ or not, but even if we can’t show the snuff scenes, we can show every thing else we wanted to show. What we have to do is make sure that the actual broadcast, vs the cable feed, is of something that makes the FCC happy. I suggest re-runs of some 1960 sit-com, but that’s just me.”

Seeing that Hugh isn’t going to ripe my head off, I go on. “What I have been setting up is the following. It’s going to be a weekly show, an hour airtime, about 40 minutes actual. The idea is that we will take the 4 slaves to one of the local slave owner’s support business and have them be used as testing for the services provided. After the flogging, branding, what ever is done, Melissa will give a report on what it felt like. A panel composed of a ‘typical’ slave owner, some one in the slaving business, a not yet enslaved young woman and Melissa will rate the service and we will give the 1-10 scale rating of the company. Melissa will give her reports in the nude, of course.”

Hugh nodded his head, “OK, sounds good. Are you sure Melissa has signed on for this?”

I laughed “Oh, yeah, she has. I used one of my contacts at News23. It seems that they have a tape of Kathrine Caxton’s star turn at their last company picnic. I told her that this is an option for her as well. She seems to be motivated to avoid being put on a Jessica 3000 and live roasted. She even suggested the nudity parts of the report. If you haven’t gotten your cock sucked by her or Iris, I suggest you do. They are quite good. The twins need more practice however.”

Hugh looked at me “And you know this because?”

“How do you think I know. If you think I was going to give up a chance to have Melissa blow me, regardless of why she was, your crazier than I though you were. The other three decided that it would be in there best interests to do so as well. Not that it matters, as soon as I get a go ahead from Legal at least one of them is going to get her own special snuff show. I think about week 12 or so, assuming we get the approval from the sharks, the twins will get it. We will have to replace them, of course.”

Hugh laughed “And here I was thinking I was the only one that had her polish my knob. Should have know better. So, who is better, our Melissa or the Iris hottie?”

I thought about it for a moment. “I’ll have to give that to Iris. She’s really quite good at it. Good enough that snuffing her would be a real waste. Unless, of course we really need the ratings. We will see after her sisters get the chop what the ratings are like. If the ratings are high enough, we will snuff her a few weeks later, then do in Melissa” I’ve already checked and the odds are that one Veronica Pfeiffer will be in default on one of her gym memberships. She has a membership at ‘Silver and Bronze’ and ‘Extreme Fitness’. She’s meat on a stick but just doesn’t know it yet. I’ve spoken with management at both, and we reached a deal on when she gets converted.”

Veronica I should add, is Melissa’s replacement as our evening news chick.

On hearing that Neil Johnson spoke up “I wondered about that 3% off on their rate. Not that it matters, we still are printing money at that rate. I do have one question about your rating thing. Some of those companies by ads. Right now, rather discreetly, but with the change over, it’s going to be more blatant. Exactly how honest are we going to be with our ratings?”

I looked Neil in the eye “I plan on living up to the highest standards of television news reporting in the fine state.”

He nodded his head, “So the never buy an ad people get ripped in their ratings, and the ad buyers get, ah, some adjustments.”

I just looked at him “Like I said, the highest standards…”

With that the meeting broke up.

The next morning:

I get into the office early. I leave a note on Veronica’s desk. “See me”.

When she gets in, I have the conversion warrants from both of her gyms on my desk. Of course they haven’t been filed yet, so they really aren’t real conversion warrants. but one phone from me, and either of them could be.

She arrives about 7:30. I like that in meat, being early.

I point at the chair in front of my desk. “Sit. Don’t say any thing.” She looks surprised, but does sit down. I hand her the warrants. “Do you know what these are?”

She looks at them in wonder “No, what are they?”

“They are unfilled judicial enslavement warrants for you. You are in contract default with both of your fitness centers. One phone call from me and you will be converted. Do you understand what I mean?”

To her credit, she just looked at me “So, I assume you are going to want some sort of sex from me then.”

I always thought she was smart. “Why, yes, I do. I’m thinking you can blow me most mornings. How long you stay a free woman depends, in a large part, on your cock sucking skills.”

As I was saying this, she stood up and walked around my desk. As she knelt down, she looked up at me “Is that what happened to Melissa? Did she fail some how?”

I unzipped my pants and pulled her down on my hardening cock. “No, as it happened she fucked up all on her own, no need to push her into it like we did with you and the other staff. You didn’t think we just gave away those trial memberships for no reason did you.”

She pulled her self off my cock then looked up “Does Saundra have one those as well?” I said “You mean Saundra Arel, Hugh’s girl Friday? Of course. She doesn’t know it, at least not yet. I think all the female staff under the age of 40 has at least one default.” I pushed her head back down. “Of course, if this gets out, the first thing I will do is make the phone call, and have them trigger the warrants. That will pretty much insure that you all will be converted. Or captured as a run-a-way slave, which is much worse I understand.”

She stopped what she was doing, looked up at me “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of telling her. I just ask one thing. Take her before you take me. I want to see her cunt on a Jessica 3000. Every had a deep throat hummer?”

With that she slowly took me into her throat, while humming the station jingle.

This is going to be a fun few months.

Tags: conversion, Eastlake, enslavement, evil, Jessica 2000, kill, meat, Snuff, torture

“Ah, come right in, Ms Whetstone, you are right on time.”

The young lady came on into my office and stood in front of my desk. She was short - perhaps 5″2″ and a bit on the heavy side, about 125/30 pounds but with a very pleasing figure, good legs, nice tits.
She looked younger that the age of 26 on her documents. She wore a gray suit with a skirt that ended more than a few inches above her knees. Under the suit jacket she wore a demure white blouse although one could see through it the outline of a dark colored bra. Hose and 3-inch heels completed the ensemble. Her hair was close cut and gave her a kind of pixie appearance.

She stood there rather composed but some of her body language betrayed her anxiety regarding the meeting. No doubt she knew why she was here she just did not wish to accept the fact.

“Ms Whetstone, do you know why you have been summoned here?”

“I think so, your Honor,” was her quiet reply.”

“Ah, yes and what might that be?”

“My owner wishes to exercise his right to have me put down. A special codicil to my enslavement act gave him that right.” And then she added, “I know what the law says but is there any way you can get me out of this? I would be most grateful and would delight in becoming your slave.”

“My dear Ms Whetstone, if I could have 50 cents for every time a young woman like yourself has made that proposition to me I could retire a millionaire. No, I am afraid there is no way of avoiding the heavy cloud that hangs over you. But that does not mean you do not have some choice in the matter.”

“Oh, God, tell me what they are!” she pleaded.

“I suggest,” replied the judge quietly, that if you are going to plead you do so on your knees.”

She mumbled, “Yes, Sir,” and fell to her knees.”

“Ah, fine - but it will do you no good but I do so like to a pretty woman on her knees. Well, lets get on with it as I have a busy docket today. Here it is, you are either to fed bit by bit, feet first into a stump grinder or you can hang yourself here and now. Which shall it be?”

She looked as though she were going to keel over and managed ask what was a stump grinder. I called her to join me at the window to watch some men fed tree limbs into a machine that instantly reduced the would to shavings. “Of course, you would be fed into the machine at a much slower rate - about an inch every 20 minutes.” On hearing this, the young woman fainted dead away.

When she came to I got her into a chair and said, “Choose!”
“Now?” she asked with pleading eyes. “Yes, now. Grinder or noose? Decide!”

She stuttered and stammered by finally got out, “Noose,” in a voice so low I had to have her repeat it several times.

“Alright then, come over here to the fireplace,” I said as I ignited the gas fire. You are to remove your clothing as I direct and throw each piece into the fire. Starting with her suit coat and ending with her thong I had her remove each article of clothing and made her watch it consumed before moving onto the next. When she was naked I handed her a bowl of cotton balls. “What are these for?” she asked. “To stuff in your ass,” was my quiet reponse. With that, she fainted dead away.

I rang a bell on my desk and several assistants appeared. One with rope, cuffs, and a line with a hangman”s noose at the end. Another placed the chair in a doorway on a great circle of plastic sheeting while the other threaded the noose line through a ring in the door frame and, estimating the girl”s height, tied the end of the line off on a cleat. The third forced a handful of cotton balls into the girl”s ass as she lay on the floor.

I held up some black cord and some cuffs and telling her that her wrists must be secure asked her if she preferred the cord or the cuffs. She asked for the cord and said that she would like to tie her wrists herself, that she had a lot of experience in self-bondage. She finally got them secured but it did not look like a very good job to me and when she mounted the chair beneath the noose I saw that this would not do at all so I added cuffs around her wrists.
She managed when told to do so to get the noose over her head and around her neck but would not or could not manage to pull it snug.

I could see that she was too terrified to step off the chair so I spoke calmly to her reminding her that if she did not hang herself she would be fed to the stump grinder. She began to cry and to shake, a stream of pee began to run down her leg. I told her, “Put one foot on the back of the chair and gradually lean back and it will be effortless.”

Tearfully she did as instructed, shifting her weight until the chair went over and she was left dangling in space. She was saying something but the rope cut off her voice. She brought up her hands and clutched at the rope as it tightened around her neck. He feet lashed out wildly seeking some kind of purchase but finding none. Her face grew dark, her eyes bulged and her tongue began to protrude from her mouth. She continued to struggle for 10 or 12 minutes but her thrashing about grew less violent with each passing minute until finally a stream of piss ran down her legs and she hung swaying gently in the doorway. Thank God for the cotton balls!

Tags: enslavement, noose