Castleman Trust Chapter 54
Neville to the Rescue
I was in Eastlake when Neville received his first rescue assignment: Marvela Smith. She was the eldest daughter of George and Leonora Smith. Marvela didn”t come home from beauty college. When Leonora looked for Marvela, she hadn”t been at school either. Marvela was 20, almost 21, so she was not a child anymore–even young Tamara was 18. If they came up missing, the police would politely take the report. People went missing all the time. In the world of the White Slave Act of 2000 women often dropped out of sight without a trace. George and Leonora were committed abolitionists, friends of Neville Champion and his family. They also knew that Neville has established a detective agency as part of his Slave Rescue Service. Neville brought the three of them to April Hall.
“And who is this?” Neville asked of the shivering young girl beside me. For the record, this slave was clothed. “She looks out of it.”
“She is,” Summer was professionally known as Doctor Kimberly Prince. Now that Dr. Prince was a Person of Limited Rights, she normally worked naked. “Her name is Randi and she tried to commit suicide by going to Hill”s. Randi isn”t old enough to vote yet, so Peter managed to save her life. Right now, Randi is a person of limited rights and under my care.”
“Why did you want to commit suicide?” Leonora asked. “You are young. You are beautiful.”
“You could have gone to Spellbook Slaves and all of your troubles would be over!” Tamara sneered.
“Tamara!” the parents chorused.
“”It would have! There”s lots of reasons.”
“Billy dumped me,” Randi said softly. “He told me that if I loved him, I”d let him fuck me. When I refused, he said that there was more pussy available.”
“That sounds like a good excuse as any,” Tamara commented.
“Tamara!”
“Are you Peter Castleman?” Tamara asked me. I explained that I was the star of the Castleman Trust Show, Peter Foster. “Good. Here is a notarized voluntary conversion form. I”m not pregnant and I”m not drunk and I”m not on drugs and I”m not crazy. I want to be a slut–”
“Tamara!”
I looked over the document. It appeared in order. When someone fills out a DEV application, the form is copied to our data base. Most notaries also operate on-line now, making electronic copies of their work–especially enslavement documents. The federal government is rapidly changing from the paper world (it ain”t real if it ain”t written on paper) to the digital universe (the only reality is the data base–make it real by putting it in the data base.) The White Slave Act is all about the database–it is the database that everyone consults when determining if a woman is a free citizen or a person of limited rights. The documents are nice, but documents do not determine the woman”s status–the data base does. April Hall and the other slave sorority houses are connected tot the slaver database because I intended that these sororities would be DEV recruiting stations at three colleges: EU, UOKE and EMTC. It took only a few minutes to log on and check the data base.
“While the check is in progress, Tamara,” I ordered,” I have a valid application for voluntary conversion to person of limited rights status. Your driver”s license and your parents have verified your identity. You are now required by Oklahoma and federal laws to obey my commands during processing. Undress and accompany Heather to the bathroom where you will give a urine sample. Do you need to drink some water or something?”
“I”ve been holding it for an hour,” Tamara dropped her long coat and unzipped her boots. She was completely nude beneath the coat. “I should be calling you Master Peter, now.”
“You can”t!” George Smith said. “I forbid it.”
“Sir,” I said as the naked women retreated, “interfering with lawful slave trade is a felony–and if you go to jail you can”t find Marvela. You wife would be judicially enslaved. Neville MIGHT have enough cash to buy her out as an agent of DEV–he”s still waiting on his slaver”s license right at the moment. The only way to insure that Leonora isn”t bought by an Alternate Meat Source plant. She could even wind up as a lab animal or in a torture club–do you know how many people hate their parents, how many gladly pay for a mother substitute to torture and snuff?”
“Peter,” Summer pressed her breasts against my back as she embraced me from the rear. Damn it! I was wearing a shirt! It blunted my pleasure–but I was on my way out the door when Neville arrived with his first rescue case. “Dear master, you are over wrought again. Save who you can save. Let “natural selection” work its dark magic. Not everyone will live.”
“What are you talking about?” George Smith asked.
“Master Peter is trying to keep you from breaking the law, Master George. Yes, you love your daughter. So do you, Mistress Leonora.” Summer nuzzled my neck. “Master Peter has an attachment disorder. It is the opposite of the Caligula Syndrome. Master Peter is a sheepdog. We sheep have trouble telling sheepdogs from wolves–but sheepdogs protect the flock because it is who they are. A wolf may prevent another wolf from poaching, but a wolf is a wolf.”
As Summer was explaining the three types of people, sheep dogs and wolves and sheep, Heather returned with Tamara. Tamara handed me her urine bottle. The tests were all negative.
“Tamara Jayne Smith, as of 10:45 AM this Friday, December 7th, 2001 you are a person of limited rights belonging to Defensive Enslavement Volunteers. Over the next 90 days you will undergo evaluation intended to develop your academic and business careers–not to mention your personal life. This is the major question we will answer–what will you do with the rest of your life?”
“That”s not what I expected,” Leonora said.
“You”ve been watching too much television, Mistress. Many owners suffer from the Caligula Syndrome. They have absolute power over another person and the owner isn”t able to deal with no limits.” Everyone is familiar with Emperor Caligula, so I will skip the catalog of paranoia (justifiable for Roman politicians of the period, really), excesses and just plain weirdness. “Now not every suffer will go the route of Hannibal Johnson–he was bombed out on drugs, according to his autopsy. Meth ruined his life. Most of the suffers will simply kill their slaves for the sheer thrill of it. I apologize to Master and Mistress if I offend, but as a professional psychologist most people suffering from the Caligula Syndrome are otherwise wonderful human beings. Many serial killers are the nicest people you”ll ever meet–as long as you are never under their heel. They aren”t real wolves–just feral sheep.
“Master Peter, may I discuss your case with these people so that they can feel that their daughter is safe?” How can I refuse that request? I nodded and Summer continued. “Master Peter has been monitored for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder since he was 17. He killed some people in the line of duty, but he is free of PSTD. Master Peter kills only when he has to protect. The people you see on the torture and snuff channels kill for a variety of reasons. They”re angry. They”re sad. They”re frightened and if they don”t kill, they will die and the girl they were supposed to kill will die anyway. Caligula Syndrome sufferers will kill because they can and because they like it. They like feeling the power rush–causing another fear, pain and death lets the suffer forget being scared, in pain and mortal.”
“I have myself checked regularly for the Caligula Syndrome,” I said. “Even if I didn”t own slaves, I am a force professional. Traditionally we force professional monitor each other. That is the answer to “who watches the watcher?” WE watch each other. We are bound together by bonds of mutual loyalty–loyalty to each other, to our organization, to the Constitution. Today we enlist professional such as Doctor Prince–a Castleman Trust slave who calls herself Summer. She is a talented psychologist.”
“Thank you, Master. We were on our way to Cougar County with Randi. Master Peter wants Randi to promise not to kill herself.”
“I need three years,” I said. “I know it is a long time, but I need that much time to show you that life is worth living. I care about you, Randi.”
“My parents don”t,” Randi said.
“Parents are just human,” I said. “They lost track of you because you grew up. I”m sorry about your father. I don”t think he meant to have that heart attack. Your mother just got lonely. Your stepfather–”
“He isn”t my father!”
“Step one is to promise that you will give me three years that you won”t kill yourself. Step two is a little bit easier–simply write a letter telling your family that you are okay–for at least the nest three years. If they want to get in touch with you, we”ll deal with it then. If not, I”m sure that we”ll find an acceptable substitute.”
“Peter,” Summer shook her head, “sometimes you are one blunt sheepdog.”
“Slave or not, I am treating you like an adult–even if your official adult status is three weeks away. Randi, I can try to keep you alive against your will. Or you can give me a chance. Am I credibly sincere, Randi? I know that you hurt. Your last chance–so you feel–was to get married to Billy. Guess what? Billy PPC”d three girls already. He has others on the line. I have one of his victims at the Bar BQ Ranch. Relax–the place was named after a pair of brothers and their bear totem.
“Tamara, I have a mission for you. I don”t want you to leave Randi alone for one moment. You are going to tell me everything you know about your sister. Neville is in charge of her rescue operation–I can assist, but NOTHING ILLEGAL. If it means that Marvela dies, as long as her killers are acting within the law, then we will hold a memorial service for your sister. There”s a lot we CAN do. First, find her. The worst is if she winds up on one of NMG”s snuff shows. They have deep pockets and even $100,000 won”t be enough to bail her out. Most AMS dealers will sell out for a tidy profit.”
“We want her body,” Leonora said. “If Marvela is dead, I want to bury her.”
“It won”t come to that,” Neville had more faith than I did. He was right, numerically speaking. Marvela had been missing for two weeks. If she had survived her first two weeks in slavery, odds were that she was still alive. “Now what were you told when you filed the missing persons report?”
“They told us that Marvela was an adult and she was free to do what she pleased,” Leonora spat. “I got no help these past two weeks. They finally took a police report last week, but they have no cause to investigate. There is no evidence of foul play. They said that there was nothing to investigate.”
“We tried a private detective,” George said. “He said he was our friend and that he wouldn”t take our money. He checked the slaver data base and Marvela wasn”t there.”
“Let me check,” I said. “What is Marvela”s Social Security Number?”
I found out really fast that Marvela had become a slave that very morning! She was also in California. That complicated things. Well, nobody promised that it would be easy. Marvela was now owned by the Hassim Brother”s Slave Shop of Bakersfield, California. I had Neville get on the phone immediately. A few minutes later, Neville owned his fourth slave. Now all he had to do was go and get her.
I later found out that Neville spent $7,000 to buy her. He out-bid the booming brothel industry starting up in the LA area. There was more to the story. George Smith wanted to prosecute for illegal enslavement. Mr. Paulson looked over the case, took Marvela”s statements, had slave Mercy look over the evidence. No grounds for illegal enslavement. George and Leonora wanted both of their daughters freed immediately. Not possible for Marvela–she had been PPC”d. Several women had been purchased and freed by their families within a week–and the woman was almost immediately re-enslaved under the original PPC because of three acts of sexual intercourse within the 30 day window. Other families were sued for freeing their daughters without a proper “cooling-off” period. Don”t ask me which is worse–politics or court cases. I will admit that they are better than battle–fewer people die, less property is destroyed.
Randi? She pledge to not attempt suicide for three years.
