Dark Erotic Fiction

Shadow luxuriated in the hot shower. As he stood motionless under the streams of water, he allowed the hot water to cascade off his back, letting its heat to soak into him. He remained unmoving for several minutes, letting his mind wander in uncontrolled thought. Finally rousing himself back into the present, he looked to the side to watch KD as she knelt on the floor on the other side of the glass shower wall. She had her eyes lowered, so she remained unaware of his scrutiny of her. She’s damn good looking for an older woman. That and she’s quite talented, she will be quite useful to me. Plus, she seems to be very concerned that I accept her as a slave, because she’s trying hard to become a good one. She does more than just trying to avoid punishment, too. She sees punishments for what they are…corrections for improper behavior, then it seems like she tries to learn from them. She has good possibilities, far more than just fact that she’s trying to carve herself a niche in the household.

After staring at her for a minute, he tapped his knuckle on the glass, causing her to look up. When she looked at him, he motioned for her to enter the shower. This shower wasn’t as large as the shower in the apartment had been, this being a normal sized bathtub. Still, she edged past him as she entered, then immediately turned to face him and dropped to her knees. She looked up at him instead of lowering her eyes, thinking that since she had been summoned, she was expected to pay attention. She hoped she would get to blow him, but she wasn’t ready to assume that and to begin doing so before he ordered her to.

His first comments were totally unexpected. “You are a very attractive woman, KD, I think you realize that.”

“Other men have told me that, master, but thank you for saying so. I am glad you find me appealing.”

“Have you fought with your weight all your life?”

That unexpected observation hit close to home in her mind. She answered with a note of resignation in her voice. “Yes, pretty much, master. It is more a problem lately because slaves don’t have the freedom to establish and maintain any kind of regular exercise program or control their diet.”

“You have that latitude now, KD, use it. You need to lose a few pounds.”

“I know master, I have worried about that. I will begin working on it.”

He watched her, looking for any sign that she wasn’t sincere about the promise she had just given. He saw none. Then he thought about the project he had given her to work on previously. Using a drafting program on her Apple computer, she had drawn floor plans for the interior of the main house. He had given her no guidance for the first go-around, instead telling her to create whatever she thought would be appropriate. She had architectural training and skills. He had none. If nothing else, it would give them a starting point to begin refining ideas. Her first plans incorporated a few ideas that had never occurred to him that he really liked. Other aspects were less successful, but that was the idea; get a starting point, then work from there. After three additional iterations, he had a basic floor plan that he was quite pleased with. Some aspects still troubled him, but rather than spend time trying to figure them out, he had dumped the problem on KD with instructions for her to come up with three of four alternatives for him to review. He gave her a deadline of today, which she indicated she would be able to meet. He looked down at her and could see the slight nervousness she still evidenced in his presence.

“Are you going to be spending more time in the dog cage, KD?” She knew immediately what he was getting at. She had committed to having work done, then failed to complete it, having allowed herself to become sidetracked by other things. She had spent the night in a dog cage as punishment.

“If you order me into it, then yes master, I will. But I will not give you cause to punish me that way again.”

“I assume, then, that the plans are ready for my review?”

“Yes master, they are.”

“Good. Now, I’m in the mood for a blowjob, then I will review the plans over coffee this morning.”

KD rose up on her knees and moved into position. Her lips began their magic. As far as she was concerned, her day was beginning on a high note.

When he began his second cup he called KD and Rita to the table. He ordered KD to bring the printouts of the plans she had drawn. He studied them carefully, then began to ask questions of his two slaves. When it was done, he selected one plan, pushed it toward the two women saying, “Take this one to the architects. Have them begin to do their thing using this as their starting point. If they want to suggest alterations, discuss them, keeping in mind the variations we have gone through. If they come up with anything I should see, bring it to me, otherwise have them move the process forward toward getting the actual construction going. Have enough copies made that we can hand them out to a number of contractors for bidding the job.” He looked at KD. “Good job. You will sleep in my bed tonight. Plan on cumming a few times.” (To see the set of plans chosen by Shadow, click here.)

For the final meeting, Carmella had decided that only three people needed to attend. One was Sidney of course, as the main participant. He was to give his final analysis, which would serve as the rationale for the psychological aspects of the attack on Shadow. Also included was the cameraman, who had flown back to Chicago with Shannon. The cameraman was there to amplify on aspects of the footage he took and to clarify anything that Sidney might not be able to see clearly on the videotape. At least that was the stated reason. He was really there more as a justification to have Shannon attend. Carmella had decided she wanted the little beauty to be Tweedle Dum’s replacement, and this would be a good opportunity to enslave the woman. Carmella knew that Shannon would feel more relaxed with a familiar face beside her, and together with her cameraman, the two of them presumably had a legitimate business reason for attending.

When they were all settled, Carmella turned the meeting over to Sidney. “Doctor Mostmer….Sidney,” she grinned shyly at him, playing up to his obvious physical attraction to her, “You have had time to review all the interviews, and to study the inside of Shadow’s apartment. Please give us your thinking about the man, and particularly his weaknesses. As you know, Shannon went above and beyond the call of duty for us by spending a considerable amount of time keeping him occupied. On a very personal level, and at not an insignificant cost to herself, I must add.. She might well be able to add additional information unobtainable any other way.” She turned her attention to focus directly on Shannon. “I want you to know how deeply grateful I am that you were able to give so much toward helping this project succeed. I doubled your bonus in gratitude, and I have planned a small celebratory dinner. I hope you don’t have plans for this evening, I will be devastated if you can’t stay and receive this reward at the dinner held in your honor.”

Shannon blushed prettily, then accepted the invitation. Carmella turned back to Sidney, nodding for him to begin his analysis.

He cleared his throat, looked at each of the other participants, then began one of his favorite pastimes; pontificating. Looking at Shannon, he began. “We owe you a debt of gratitude. Gaining access to his apartment, then keeping him occupied for so long, allowing the cameraman to work unfettered was a stroke of genius.” He settled himself more deeply in his chair. “I’ve reviewed the footage of his apartment and find myself wondering why he has never had a sex-change operation. I don’t wish to bore you with details, but just to point out a few of the more obvious examples, let me draw your attention to the frame captures I made.” He proceeded to hand out copies of prints he had made of specific frames from the interior shots of Shadow’s apartment. He then proceeded to bore them with elaborate ‘analysis’ of details and conclusions. Toward the end he began to summarize his thinking. “So, I think it should be obvious that when we consider the manner of how color was used, and how objects were placed, he has a decidedly feminine twist to his actual nature. Contrast that to his bedroom, where social pressure and convention dictate that he emphasize his masculine side, we see he has gone overboard in that direction. Clearly, he has trouble with his self-image. When challenged, he will tend to become defensive, but that defensiveness will most likely manifest itself in a false bravado. He will go to great lengths to sustain the image of his virility and even of being ‘right’ all the time. Knowing this, Carmella, you should be able to goad him into making almost any move you wish. You need only to offer him a little bait and imply that for him to not rise to it, he lacks manhood. In vernacular, he would show that he has no balls.” Finished, Sidney placed both palms flat on the surface of the table, looked at each of the others, then again settled his attention on Carmella. “Questions?”

There were none.

I fairness, it must be said that despite all his bluster and posturing, Sidney provided a surprisingly detailed and accurate analysis of the character of the person responsible for decorating the apartment. Unfortunately for Carmella, that wasn’t Shadow.

Carmella took control of the meeting back into her hands. “Thank you Sidney, that is incredibly valuable information. Your insights are brilliant. I’ll have to spend some time thinking about how to best use this, but that will have to wait for a while. Right now, we have some celebrating to do, to acknowledge the very successful conclusion of this aspect of my project, and to appropriately reward Shannon for her extraordinary efforts. I appears we will be ending this meeting a tad earlier than I anticipated, but that doesn’t matter, we will just have to extend the cocktail hour a bit until dinner is ready.” She smiled conspiratorially, then sprang her surprise. “I have engaged the services of Francois LeMente to prepare tonight’s feast. In the event you are not familiar with that name, he is the three-time winner of France’s National Cordon Bleu culinary competition, and the head chef at that absolutely divine French restaurant La Cremmelaire that has recently opened to such rave reviews. I gave him total control over the menu. I told him to pick the wines, to choose the appetizers, to decide on the meal…everything.” She laughed, “I don’t even know what color napkins we will be using.” She subsided a bit, then confessed. “I don’t dare tell him to hurry. We will eat when he tells us he is ready and not one minute before. So we will have to make do with whatever wines and appetizers he has selected for us until then.” She looked at Shannon, then in a stage whisper, she said, “My dear, we are each going to put a pound or two on tonight, but I wouldn’t skimp on this meal if my life depended on it.” She eyed Shannon, thinking, Your freedom hinges on what happens tonight, but I’m very confident you will end the night in my bed as my slave. As everyone began to rise from the conference table, Carmella spoke up again. “Please, don’t anybody worry about drinking too much. This is a private party, I have limousines ready to conduct everybody safely back to their hotel, and best of all, I have an infallible hangover prevention. The only bad part about is that it sobers one quickly, so the pleasant feeling bestowed by the wine will almost immediately be gone after it is taken. So drink up and enjoy the buzz while it lasts.”

Carmella’s slaves were nowhere in sight. They were uncomfortably bound and tightly gagged, secluded in the back of her apartment, stored away for the evening. Out of concern that it might make Shannon more cautious, Carmella didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that she owned slaves, so she had hers hidden out of sight. She had hired two waiters and a waitress to serve hors d’ouvres and the wine before dinner, as well as the dinner itself. She had no idea how many people were in the kitchen, and she didn’t care. That was the chef’s concern.

By prearrangement, Carmella drank each of the wines unadulterated until she gave a discrete signal. From that point on, until a new wine was being served, her glasses were heavily watered down. In total, there were eight different wines served over the course of the evening. There was one served with the hors d’ouvres, then a different one for each of the six courses, and finally a very rare, very expensive, but deliciously exquisite port for dessert. It was an extravagance, but it was a perfect excuse to keep Shannon’s glass filled. Shannon took careful note of the fact that her hostess imbibed of every new wine, and usually for more than one glass. That emboldened her. After all, if her hostess wasn’t worried about her blood-alcohol content, there was no reason that she should be. Shannon never caught on to the fact that after two or three sips of each glass, Carmella’s glass disappeared, to reappear again filled. The refills were mostly water. Carmella regretted despoiling the wine that way, but she wanted to be very sure she remained below the legal blood alcohol limit for women. That this was a private party was not material to her. She was a very cautious woman when it came to her freedom. Her own enslavement was not in her plans, and she was very careful to keep it that way. She had the upcoming events very carefully scripted, but being a cautious woman, she was not about to risk her own enslavement resulting from a minor error on her part. Shannon was not quite so fortunate as Carmella, to know what the future held.

The dinner progressed very companionably with everyone chatting freely. The meal was beyond description and the diners oooed and aaahed as each course was placed before them. After the main course dishes had been cleared and they were waiting for the dessert, Carmella caught Shannon’s attention, then ingeniously confided in her. “I’ve always been somewhat awed by Hollywood stars and I’ve never had the opportunity to talk with one. Now that I have you here, I can’t resist the chance to learn a little about you and your private life. Tell me a little about yourself. Like, what do you enjoy doing? What’s your home like? What do you do for amusement?” Now tell me some good personal things, sweetie. Things that I can use to torture and torment you once you’re my slave. Its always so much more fun torturing a slave with something when I know it’s something that they really care about.

Shannon smiled somewhat knowingly; well aware of the effect that being a star had on most people who weren’t stars themselves. “Thank you for the compliment, but I’m far from being a Hollywood star. I’ve gotten a few good parts, but I can assure you, Brad Pritte doesn’t even know I exist.”

“Tell me anyway”, Carmella encouraged, “I would really like to know.”

Shannon sat back. “I hardly know where to begin. I’m no different than anybody else. I come from a middle class family. We lived on a small farm and my parents indulged my love of animals, allowing me to have quite a menagerie, including a llama. We had the normal array of dog, cats, chickens, a few ducks, a rabbit, and of course cows and horses. I loved the farm and everything about it, but now I have to admit I’m a big city girl. Having lived in both, I find I adore big city living. As much as I loved the farm, Fifth Avenue wins. Some day I hope to have a place in the mountains, and if I do, I’ll want to have all my animals back again, but that might be rather impractical in mountains.”

She paused for a sip of wine, then continued. “I don’t have much of it, so that’s probably why I hate spending money, but I have to confess, I love getting dressed up. I have a good body, and I know it. I work my tail off keeping it that way. But I love wearing sexy clothing and even simply well fitting, attractive clothes.” She smiled conspiratorially, patted her stomach, then added, “Tonight is going to cost me a week in the gym, but it was worth it.”

Carmella interjected. “What are you going to do with your bonus? Pay bills? Invest it? Splurge? What would you splurge on?”

Shannon answered without having to think. I have a few bills that will get paid off, but nothing major. I’ll invest most of it, it would be foolish not to. This is a golden opportunity that will likely never happen again, I can’t afford to blow it. But I may splurge on one thing.”

“What? Ooooh, I hope its juicy, I’m dying to know. Tell me please.” Carmella acted like a little girl, beseeching a friend to reveal a deep dark secret.

Shannon laughed. “Nothing that good, I’m afraid. I think I’ll have a pair of contacts made for my eyes.”

“Contacts?” Carmella’s disappointment was evident in the tone of her voice. “You consider that a splurge?”

“These would be. Purely cosmetic. I want contacts to color my eyes, nothing more. Violet. With my blonde hair, I think having violet eyes will be absolutely stunning. Also, maybe a better computer. I have an old laptop right now, but I would love to have a better, newer system.”

Carmella sat back, somewhat surprised. She appraised the other woman carefully, then concurred. “I agree. You’re more than pretty to begin with, but having violet eyes will make you irresistible to anyone who sees you.” And I might even see that you get them. Having a slave with eyes that color will be amusing. I wonder if the contacts can be made permanent? I’ll have to look into that.

When the dessert dishes had been cleared, Carmella called for the bottle of port and for coffee’s to be refilled. Shannon was more than pleasantly high, and she knew it, so when the waiter approached her with a glass of port, she waved him off. Under prior orders from Carmella, he nonetheless set the glass down in front of her. When the port had been brought, an envelope had also been discretely placed on the table next to Carmella. She picked the envelope up and made an exaggerated show of doing so, drawing everyone’s attention to the act. She placed it back on the table, midway between herself and Shannon. Placing an elegantly manicured finger on it, she slid it closer to Shannon.

“ I promised you a bonus, and here it is. Again, I cannot thank you enough for your efforts on my behalf, and I hope this token of my appreciation will help you understand the depth of my gratitude. Now I wish to propose a toast to the heroine of this project.” Before Shannon could mount an objection to drinking any more alcohol, Carmella sought to brush the objection aside. “Before you say anything Shannon, may I request you open the envelope, then decide to join us in a drink to you?”

She watched with coolly calculating eyes as the young actress delicately slit the envelope open. She casually began to remove the check, then when it was halfway exposed her hands froze. She turned with a look of shock on her face to see Carmella smiling like the cat that had swallowed a canary. Carmella wordlessly raised her wine glass in salute toward Shannon, then said, “To you, my dear. May it be only the beginning.” But it isn’t a beginning. You won’t even get to cash it, let alone spend it. That’s a good girl, have another sip of wine.

Shannon moved her trembling hand to her own wine glass, then raised it to her lips and took a sip. I can’t believe this! Five hundred thousand dollars!! This is incredible. Unbelievable.

The port was also unbelievable. Shannon had never tasted anything so good, and she didn’t realize that she was sipping more and more of it. By now she was well beyond the legal limit, but she no longer gave that any thought. The party grew more boisterous, and more alcohol was consumed. While the revelry increased, both of the men present did their best to see that Shannon was well supplied with alcohol. Both were hopeful that she would become drunk enough to begin thinking about sex. Or more correctly, so drunk that she didn’t care, and they would be able to fuck her. Sidney still had the hots for Carmella, but he was aware that she seemed surprisingly sober. He accepted the fact that as long as she was sober, there was little likelihood that he would get her between the sheets. He made a few furtive advances during the course of the night, but they were delicately, yet firmly, rebuffed.

When the party began to wear down, Sidney asked about the miraculous hangover prevention Carmella had mentioned. Pretending that she had forgotten about it, she excused herself from her guests and went into her bedroom to retrieve it. She placed a phone call while she was alone, then returned to the party, device in hand. It was a modification of an AWOL machine.

Some six or eight years earlier, a newly invented fad swept through Europe and into Japan. It was a process of inhaling alcohol, rather than drinking it. It produced a very intense, very fast buzz. Reputedly, it also produced no hangover. It was known as Alcohol With Out Liquid…hence AWOL. Carmella’s device was patterned to look like an oxygen bottle, with a smaller cylinder attached. Air Force pilots have long known about the restorative properties of pure oxygen, breathing it for a few minutes in the morning after a night of heavy drinking. Carmella explained the basis of her machine was the oxygen, paired with a secret ingredient in the smaller tank, that between the two, prevented hangovers. She was very convincing.

The truth of the matter was that this was an AWOL device, and the small tank contained more alcohol. She did not tell her guests that if a well-hidden button was depressed while one breathed, the alcohol was cut off, and it didn’t enter the user’s lungs. Not pressing the button provided the user with a massive dose. The device was designed to push unsuspecting females well over the legal blood-alcohol limit very rapidly. It was nothing more than an enslavement trap.

When she had planned the dinner, Carmella had no way of knowing how much Shannon would drink. Had Shannon shown restraint and remained below the legal limit, this device would have ensured that she went over it. As it happened, it turned out that the device was totally unnecessary.

Carmella demonstrated its use, keeping the critical button depressed while she took a few hits from it, then passed it along for the others to use. Shannon was already over the limit when she reached for the bottle, and when she finished using it, she was well beyond any hope of recovery before the night was over. Carmella urged the two men to use it again, breathing from it for a longer period to ensure that they would be fully cured. Within minutes they both fell asleep, completely inebriated.

Carmella managed to get Shannon on her feet, telling her that she was going to escort her to the waiting limousine, thereby ensuring that the younger woman made it safely there.

The limousine was parked down the block, away from the entrance to Carmella’s apartment building, so the two women began walking toward it. Shannon’s walk was noticeably unsteady, and at three thirty in the morning, that would not usually have been a problem. But Carmella’s phone call of a few minutes earlier had summoned a well-paid police officer. The officer ‘just happened’ to be carrying a breathalyzer as he ‘just happened’ to be on the sidewalk at that hour of the morning as the two women passed by. According to his official report, he observed the perpetrators, one showing obvious signs of inebriation, so he administered the test to both. The results were that one Carmella Cabot had imbibed, but retained her faculties (and her freedom) by holding her alcohol intake within the limits of the law. The second perpetrator, one Shannon Donahue, was in violation of the law and was summarily enslaved.

Being the kind and considerate person that she is, Carmella offered to accompany Shannon to the stationhouse to help in any way she could. Shannon was inconsolable, which Carmella really didn’t give a shit about. Carmella’s sole motivation in accompanying Shannon was to ensure that the little beauty didn’t wind up as the station fuck toy for a few hours, and that nobody else happened to buy her. Carmella was well known (and slightly feared) in the precinct, both in her own right, and as having a connection to the kind of people that even cops didn’t want to piss off. Her presence prevented any mishaps from occurring. In a well-orchestrated ballet, Shannon was booked, tried, convicted, enslaved, sold and delivered to her owner in record time.

Rapidly sobered by the proceedings, Shannon could not believe what had happened to her. In the space of what seemed to be only a few minutes, she went from being an almost wealthy actress with a bright future to a lowly, sobbing slave with no future at all. She was gagged and naked, although at Carmella’s request, she retained her heels, wearing a belly chain with her wrists cuffed closely to her waist and her elbows pulled together behind her back by a plastic cuff, being led into the street by a leash attached to her collar.

The enormity of the event had stunned her into a mild state of shock, to the point that the only thing that kept running through her mind was now she would never have the chance to finish up with getting her degree. When they got to Carmella’s limo, Carmella ordered Bubbles to open the trunk, then ordered Shannon to climb into it. Thankfully, the ride back was very short.

Back in her apartment, Carmella found no reason to unlock Shannon’s wrists. She took her newest toy into the bedroom where she buried Shannon’s nose in her pussy. She finally fell asleep after her fifth orgasm. She slept late the next morning, and immediately upon waking, ordered Shannon to lick her into cumming twice more before she got up for the day.

After a leisurely breakfast Carmella went into her office for a while before summoning her new slave back into her presence. Shannon knelt on the carpet in front of her owner’s desk listening to the rules of her new life being explained to her. Carmella concluded the instructions by saying, “…and as long as you are not in disfavor, you will be allowed to leave on your feet unless I command otherwise. Now, as to your name, I have given this much thought. As of this moment, you are Tweedle Duh. You will respond to that name and none other. Now get out of my sight.”

Tweedle Duh got to her feet and silently began to leave the office. When she was almost to the door, Carmella called abruptly, “Oh Shannon, I almost forgot…..” Shannon’s reflexes took over before her brain could countermand the instructions to her muscles. She turned back toward Carmella. The instant she saw the cruel smirk on Carmella’s face she knew she was in trouble. She dropped to her knees and fervently pleaded, in a voice barely above a whisper. “Mistress, please. Please forgive me, I didn’t think, I was only anxious to please you promptly. I know my name is Tweedle Duh mistress, I swear I will behave for you.”

Carmella heaved a theatrical sigh, drummed her fingers on her desk, then pretended to reach the conclusion she had actually decided on before she had called Shannon’s name. “If I overlook this gross transgression and forgive you, it will only serve to encourage you to think that a wimpy apology will suffice to excuse sloppy performance. Well it won’t. A prompt punishment is much more efficacious in obtaining adequate performance from stupid slaves. I showed you where I keep them, so now go get a crop and bring it to me.”

“Yes, mistress. May I beg to ask for a clarification?”

Sounding very bored and put upon, Carmella sighed, “What is it?”

“I expect I am now in disfavor. If so, should I now return to my place on the floor in front of your desk and lick my way out, rather than walking from here to do as you have ordered?”

Carmella’s eyes widened slightly. “I’m pleased. You actually have at least one functioning brain cell in that pretty head. A talented tongue and a functioning brain cell, all in one, who would have guessed?” Then she snapped angrily, “Yes, you stupid slut, that’s exactly what it means. I should whip you further for asking such a stupid question, but this time I won’t.”

Hoping to curry some degree of favor by groveling as much as she could, Tweedle Duh replied, “Thank you for being so kind to me, mistress. I will do my best to please you in every way I can.” With that, she reluctantly walked back to the front of her owner’s desk, positioned herself, placed her tongue on the carpet and crawled to the doorway. She returned quickly with the requested riding crop, went to her knees, then offered the crop to her mistress with it cradled across both upturned palms, as she had seen many other slaves do. Carmella accepted the crop without comment. She hesitated for a minute while she debated with herself about how to administer the punishment, because she didn’t want to spend more time than was necessary. Carmella finally decided on the quickest way. She issued her instructions in a harsh, staccato manner. “Spread your feet apart. Bend over. Keep your legs stiff and straight. Grab your ankles and pull your tits against your legs. Stay that way. If you move, I will triple this punishment later.”

Tweedle Duh did as she was instructed and when Carmella was satisfied with her slave’s posture, she got up from her desk, crop in hand. As much as she wanted to, the resisted the temptation to play, but instead administered the punishment in a cold, mechanical fashion. Despite the impersonal manner of its delivery, Tweedle Duh wailed and shuddered with each blow to her ass. She squeezed her eyes closed as tightly as she could make them, hugged her legs and endured.

The whipping she had received from Shadow had hurt, there was no disputing that. But that whipping had a playful purpose to it. She had known she was going to get laid when it was finished. That whipping served to enflame his sexual ardor, which made the pain almost pleasant. But knowing that this whipping served no purpose other than to give her pain made it all the more difficult to bear. Despite that, she was quickly learning that this was now her lot in life. Endure the pain and humiliation, then thank her torturer for being so kind. If the wails of pain from her throat, and the torrent of tears from her eyes had any effect at all, it was to make Carmella hit just a little bit harder. Carmella laid into each stroke with no thought but to hit with her full strength. The sound of Tweedle Dum’s anguish inspired Carmella and made her want to hit harder. She probably did.

Mandy Nichols, 29 years old, 5′ 3″ and 120 pounds of burning ambition, was Assistant District Attorney for the City of Eastlake. Although that somewhat understated her position. She was a rising star in the DA’s office, and had she been only a few years older, she would have been considered a shoo-in as the next DA. At the moment though, she was sitting across the table from Detective Sergeant Cleveland Wilson. She sighed softly in disappointment as she dropped the last piece of paper back onto the tabletop. “Is this it? Is this all you’ve got?” She ran her fingers through her shoulder length raven colored hair, hoping he would come up with more. A surprise of some kind. But he didn’t.

She and Wilson had danced this dance together many times before this, and while he didn’t win all of them, he had a good feeling about this one. From past experience, he knew that when she ran her fingers through her hair, she was ready to say yes. She wanted to say yes. All she needed now was a little coaxing and maybe him yielding on a point or two to get her to sign off on his request. He knew better than to rush her, however. Pushing her too hard at this point, or worse, assuming he had won and not stroking her for a while would likely change her mind to a resolute ‘no’. He couldn’t help wondering though, if the ‘unconscious’ gesture of combing her hair with her fingers was as innocent as it seemed, or was it a well practiced maneuver?

Wilson sat back in his chair, put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling for a minute. Without looking at her, he began speaking. “C’mon Mandy, you know better than that. If I had the smoking gun with his fingerprints on it and a videotape of him doing the shooting, you would still ask me if that was all I had.” He lowered his eyes to smile at her, removing any sting from the implied rebuke he had just given her. “You know how this works as well as I do. All the pieces are here, you see that. What neither of us sees is the connection between those pieces. The key to the guy’s apartment came from somewhere. The contractor doing the work is the obvious source, but that begs the question ‘why’?. Most likely they are just a pawn in this game, but being pushed by who? The fingers point to Clifton, but we are left with another ‘why’? We have the name change from Ciffetti as a tantalizing tidbit, but again, no linkage to anything that matters at the moment. There’s more. You read it all in the report. Its there. And above all else”, he lowered his voice and enunciated each word carefully, “we have a conspiracy to commit murder. And I don’t allow that shit in my precinct.”

“No”, she objected, “all we have is attempted murder.”

“Oh come on Mandy, he got the apartment key somehow.” His annoyance at her inane comment caused him to raise his voice slightly. “If not from the contractor, then how?” This was crucial. If she blew off the connection to the contractor, the everything else fell by the wayside.

She thought for a moment, then said, “He found the former occupants of the apartment and got it from them.”

Wilson just stared at her, disbelief that she actually said that, written all over his face.

Mandy burst out laughing. “Yeah, ok, you win. That’s a stupid idea. Point for the cop.”

Wilson put his palms flat on the table as he leaned toward her. He lowered his voice, so that both visually and verbally he was trying to plead with her to make her accept his logic. “Look. You sign on board with this and its almost guaranteed I can get the judge to approve a wiretap on Clifton’s phone. If the wiretap turns up anything, then I can get approval for a stakeout. If you don’t sign on and I try to get it without you, the judge will probably not approve, or will piss around, wasting time and blow the only shot we have. Time is critical and you know that as well as I do. The most likely time we will get something useful is either before, or at, the funeral. I gotta have this in place now, because the body is going to be released to the next of kin in a day or two, I can’t hold that up any longer. Once I release the body, the funeral happens within a few days, then its over, the opportunity is gone. I need this now, Mandy. I want you and I to walk to the judge’s chambers in the next fifteen minutes.”

Mandy looked down, staring at the hemline of her short skirt riding up high on her thigh. Short skirts weren’t considered ‘professional’, but she loved flaunting her body in the office, and so far, it hadn’t hurt her career one bit. She also knew she had won every promotion and accolade on her merit, not her legs. She pushed that distraction out of her mind, then concentrated on Wilson’s argument. He’s right. This is the best and only shot to get something, but the connections are tenuous. Then that’s the whole point, isn’t it? They are tenuous, and the wiretap will be the method to firm them up. I can’t find fault in any of his logic, its just that this is a bit of a stretch legally. But its not over the line. So I guess that means I go out on a limb with him and support the request. It’ll be a big feather in my cap if it proves out.

“So which judge are we going to get chewed on by, after we present this cockamamie request?”

Wilson grinned broadly. “You’re a good kid, ADA Nichols. We’re going to see Logan.”

She grinned at that. “Oh good. He’s a dirty old man, he’ll love my miniskirt.”

Wilson smirked at that. “You think all men can be swayed by a pair of legs?”

“No,” she answered with apparent sincerity. “Some men need a pair of tits.” When Wilson didn’t respond, she continued.

“You, I know, are a leg man. I’ve seen you looking at mine often enough.”

Wilson put his hand on his chest and looked down at her in mock shock. “Me? You have me all wrong lady. Those skinny sticks you think are legs don’t do a thing for me.”

She laughed with honest humor. “Nice try, but bullshit!. If I let you, you would be on them like stink on shit, so don’t give me any ’skinny stick’ crap. Besides, I know for a fact that another pair, very much like mine, only wearing thigh-high fetish boots had you grunting and groaning very loudly in your office.” She gave him a sidelong glance, and caught him looking down at her. She grinned, knowing he was again looking at her legs. Without skipping a beat, she asked, “How is she doing, by the way?”

“She’ll live.”

Veronica had volunteered to stay behind and look after Amanda for the night. Michelle gave her the few instructions that were necessary, then all the slaves except for Veronica and KD, left the house for their return to the apartment. Shadow remained behind for a minute to have a further word with the two remaining slaves.

“KD, you are a brand new slave to me, so I am making this punishment very mild. In the future, when you make a commitment to me, keep it. Veronica will put you in the cage at eleven. You will not be released until eight tomorrow morning. You may not play with yourself while you are in the cage, you will spend the time you are awake thinking about your failure. Be very thankful this is not a whole lot worse for you.” KD bowed her head I acknowledgement. “I understand master. Thank you for your leniency, I will try to make it up to you.”

Shadow turned to Veronica, handing her a cellphone as he did so. She looked at it casually, then turned her attention back to her master as he spoke to her. “That is a camera-phone. Do you know how to use it?” Veronica looked at it more carefully, then responded, “They are all pretty much alike, and I had one before I was enslaved, so yes, master, I am sure I can operate it.” Shadow then handed her a lock and key. “When you put KD in the cage, you will lock her in. I may choose to call you at some point during the night, and if I do, you will be required to use the camera to send me video as you go to the cage, then to show me that she is in it and that the door is locked. When that happens, you will run to the cage, not walk.” Veronica simply said, “I understand master.”

Shadow left without giving any further instructions.

Veronica watched him leave, then casually said, “Gee, I hope McDougal doesn’t want to sleep in the cage tonight. Poor dog, locked out of his bedroom.” KD looked at her and sourly said, “Thanks a lot.”

After a minute of silence, KD perked up, saying, “Well, its still pretty early, so I’m going to get some work done tonight. Can I leave it to you to fix dinner?” With Veronica’s acceptance of that responsibility, KD went to find a brush and to begin doing the touch-up work on the paint.

Once back in the apartment, Michelle was at a loss about what to do or how to act. Shadow had clearly implied that she was going to be punished, and based on what Rita and Sasha had told her about him as a master, she was certain that meant she was going to get a whipping. The certainty of her conclusion was tempered only by the fact that he had treated her pleasantly enough since making the statement. It didn’t appear as though he was angry with her, so that made being whipped seem somewhat unlikely. As much as she wanted to believe that he wasn’t going to whip her, the fear that he was going to would not subside. Then there was the fact that this was her first day of being a slave, and she had no real idea about how a slave should act. Some slaves seemed to be allowed only to cower in fear, while others acted very much like free women. Then there were Rita and Sasha. And all the other of Shadow’s slaves. Between them, they seemed to range through the entire gamut of possibilities. All of which left her in a quandary.

As soon as they were back in the apartment Monica went to Shadow seeking permission to leave to visit Jodi. He was verging on saying ‘yes’ when he caught himself. “You’ll miss dinner if you leave now.” Without hesitating, she discounted that concern. “I know, master, that’s alright. I would rather spend time with her and she’s probably lonely and will appreciate the company. Besides,” she patted her stomach, “you like us trim, and without her here to exercise us, missing a meal might not be so bad for me.” He couldn’t argue with her conclusion, then decided to reward her good attitude. “Take the Subaru.”

When she entered the room, she found Jodi sitting at a small table that had been moved into the room. She was reading a novel, but instantly put is aside when she saw her visitor. The small table has a second chair alongside it which Monica settled herself into. They quickly passed beyond the usual greetings when Monica cut to the chase. “So if you’re out of bed and walking around, they must be close to releasing you.” Jodi acknowledged that conclusion with a silent nod of her head.

Monica asked, “So….?”

Jodi tried to deflect her thought by saying, “I’m still pretty sore, but as long as I take it easy for a while, I’ll be fine.” She laughed lightly, “No exercise for a while, that’s for sure.” Monica put a pout on her face. “That’s not what I was asking, and you know it.”

Jodi refused to meet her eyes. “I know.”

Monica remained quiet, allowing her silence to create its own pressure. Finally Jodi yielded. She kept her gaze on the table top and spoke very softly, as though she was embarrassed by her decision. “I’m going to take Rhys up on his offer.”

Monica didn’t respond for a while, which caused Jodi to finally look up at her. She saw a deep scowl on Monica’s face. When Jodi made eye contact, Monica simply said, “You’re an ass.”

Jodi colored, “You don’t understand…….”

Monica interrupted before Jodi could complete her statement. “I understand perfectly. You had a small argument….a lover’s spat, and now you are making a stupid decision to spite him.”

It was Jodi’s turn to interrupt. “That’s hardly fair, and you are in no position to call it stupid.”

“I’m in no position? Why? Because I’m a slave and you’re free?”

Jodi’s annoyance at that leaked through into her voice. “That isn’t what I meant and you know it. It so happens that I’ve thought about this a lot, and this is the best thing for me.”

“Do you love him?”

Jodi looked up, slightly startled at that question. “Rhys? No, of course not, I’ve hardly met him.”

“No, dummy, I meant Shadow…master. Do you love him? Do you still love him?”

Jodi could not continue to hold Monica’s eyes with her own, so she turned away. “Yes,” she admitted in a soft voice, “yes, of course I still do.”

“Then you’re being an ass.” Jodi didn’t react. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Monica the subject was closed but she held her comment back and stared off into the distance, seeing nothing. Monica knew she had the initiative and ran with it. “Aside from the fact that all you friends are there and we want you back, he’s the best thing for you. You know he cares for you.”

Jodi didn’t answer her or offer any counterargument, so Monica pressed her case more forcefully. “Weren’t you the one who told Rita that you would fight tooth and nail to keep him? Didn’t you promise to rip Rita’s heart out if she kept you from him? Is this what you consider fighting tooth and nail? This is how you fight, by running away?”

That hit a raw nerve in Jodi, and she reacted strongly, “How dare you…?”

Monica fired back loudly and forcefully. “I dare because I’m your friend! I dare because I care about you. I dare because I will not allow you to throw away the best thing that you could have over some silly argument.”

Just at that moment, the door to her room opened and Rhys stuck his head in, with a huge smile on his face. Both women turned to face him and simultaneously shouted, “Get out!” The smile instantly vanished, then after a few seconds, he vanished also, without having said a word. When the door closed behind him, the two women looked at each other, then burst into laughter. They laughed uncontrollably until they were wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. When they regained their breath, Jodi smiled ruefully at Monica, reached out to hug her, saying, “What would I do without you?”

The story so far:

Rita’s Choice: Chapter 1 Jan 2006
Rita’s Choice: Chapter 2 Jan 2006
Rita’s Choice: Chapter 3 Feb 2006
Rita’s Choice: Chapter 4 Mar 2006
Sasha’s Choice: Chapter 1 Mar 2006
Sasha’s Choice: Chapter 2 Apr 2006
Sasha’s Choice: Chapter 3 May 2006
Sasha’s Choice: Chapter 4 May 2006
The Sisters: Chapter 1 Jul 2006
*********************************************************************

Shadow got off the elevator and went to the reception desk. The young woman manning the desk smiled pleasantly and asked, “May I help you, sir?”

“Yes, I have an appointment with Frank Shapiro.”

“Oh, yes sir, you must be Mr. Shadow.” Shadow nodded to confirm her assumption. She looked away from him momentarily to consult her large appointment book, then looked back at him.

“There has been a slight change Mr. Shadow, you will be meeting with Mr. Clifton rather than Mr. Shapiro. I will buzz Mr. Clifton to let him know you are here. Please have a seat over there, he will be right with you, I know he is expecting you.”

Shadow was mildly annoyed, but said nothing to the receptionist. There would be nothing she could do about it in any event. What the hell? I’m getting shuffled off to the ‘B’ team before we even get started. Ahhh, who knows, maybe I just got promoted to the ‘B’ team. He did as he had been requested and sat in the large couch in the waiting area. In a very short time an older woman, nicely dressed, came through a door from the inner offices and headed directly to him. He rose as she approached. “Mr. Shadow? I am Maria, Mr. Clifton’s secretary, come with me please.” Shadow dutifully followed. He followed her from a hallway with utilitarian carpet and beige walls into a heavily paneled large outer office with thick, plush carpeting. Without pausing, she led the way to the doorway of the innermost office and beckoned him to enter. He entered a huge corner office containing massive and obviously expensive furniture. The office was furnished with many mementoes, including more than a few pictures of the office’s occupant with the President, a few past Presidents and some Hollywood luminaries. Wrong-o! This is not only the ‘A’ team; I think I got the captain of the team.

Leo Clifton rose from behind his desk the moment Shadow had appeared in his office. He quickly came around his desk with his hand extended, then as he looked at Shadow’s face for the first time, his step faltered. He recovered quickly, but not before both men realized he had been taken aback. Rather than making a foolish attempt to hide the event, Leo addressed it head-on. “You…” He paused, seeking the words he needed while he pointed his finger at Shadow. “Aren’t you the man who, ummm….acquired, one of my associates?”

Shadow realized that Clifton was being circumspect in the event he was wrong. He also realized that this was one of the sets of windows that had been open while he had administered Sasha’s first whipping to her. Shadow replied, “If we are discussing a very beautiful blonde, named Sasha, then, yes, I am that same man.”

Leo took Shadow’s hand and warmly shook it, adding, “Then, sir, we might have one or two additional things to discuss. To get to the core of the point, I don’t suppose you would consider selling her, would you?”

Shadow laughed pleasantly and said, “No, I am afraid not. I just got her and I rather like having her.”

Leo nodded with an understanding acceptance. “Yes, well, it didn’t hurt to try, even though I was sure you wouldn’t want to sell her quite so soon. But still, we can perhaps discuss other arrangements?”

Shadow noncommittally responded, “Perhaps,” allowing Leo the option to raise the matter again if he was serious about proposing something.

Leo directed Shadow away from the desk, toward more comfortable, cushioned chairs set around a low coffee table. “Perhaps we should dispense with our original business first. Let me begin by apologizing for the change in your meeting with Mr. Shapiro. One of his clients ran into some unexpected difficulties and that will require Mr. Shapiro’s full time attention for a while. So much so that there was no way he could take on another matter, such as yours, and give it anywhere near the attention it deserves. But let me assure you, even though I bill at a slightly higher rate than Mr. Shapiro, we will hold your costs to that of Mr. Shapiro’s rate since this change was made without consultation with you.”

Shadow had no way of knowing whether that was truth or not. But he also realized, it didn’t matter one way or the other. He had obviously been turned over to the heavy hitter of the office and that was all to the good, so there seemed no reason to say anything negative. The truth, however, was far, far, different than what he had just been told.

*** Thirty-something years earlier ***

Three young men were sitting in the back room of The Velvet Club, a bar even the Chicago police didn’t enter without trepidation. It was just after 4 in the morning, long past closing time, but the bartender/owner had no intention of evicting these particular customers. The young men in question were not so much customers as they were family. Although technically not family at this time, that status was due to change in only a few hours. The men were going to formally be inducted into the family at a private dinner later that evening. Even though they were not family just yet, Luigi had known all three since they were born. Luigi would be as proud as their fathers when they formally swore allegiance.

The three; Leonardo (Leo) Ciffetti, Ernesto (Ernie) Andrezzi, and Michelangelo (Manny ‘the Maniac’) Cabrelli had finished high school in June. It was now late August. Ernie and Manny had never wavered or given a moment’s thought to doing anything except joining the family, then ‘making their bones’ as quickly as possible. To be a ‘made man’ was the ultimate honor and achievement they aspired to. Leo on the other hand was having second thoughts. If having thought the same thought a few thousand times could be called ‘having a second thought’. Whatever it was, he was having it. The other two knew Leo didn’t have the same certainty they did. They also knew it wasn’t a matter of balls. Or lack thereof. The three, together, had raised hell, caused trouble, and crossed the line more than once. Leo had never shirked in the doing, or had troubled thoughts after the doing, of any of the actions that could have landed them in jail. They knew he just wanted something different, and was not positive which he wanted more. What they didn’t know was that he had applied to, and been accepted by three colleges. One of which was Yale. While one does not easily walk away from acceptance by the family, neither does one casually dismiss an acceptance by Yale’s School of Law.

Manny had earned his nickname by being exactly that: a maniac. Manny could be trusted to do anything. It didn’t matter how dumb the idea might be. That it might be illegal was not even remotely a consideration, nor was the possibility that somebody might get hurt…provided that somebody was other than Manny, if Manny wanted to do it, he did. If Manny was your friend, you never feared. If Manny was your enemy, all you did was fear. For your life or your health.

Ernie was a thinker. He wasn’t enormously intelligent, but he was far from stupid. He just happened to be a good thinker. He could look at a problem from sides others didn’t even know existed. He could see consequences and reactions three or four times removed. If he had ever taken the time to learn the game, he would have been a world-ranked chess Master. He could size up a problem and see the best solution in seconds. He rarely chose the wrong one. But even then, it wasn’t that he chose the wrong solution, it was only that he might have selected one that wasn’t the best solution.

Leo was smart. There was no getting around that point. Leo was simply very, very intelligent. It didn’t matter what the topic was, if he wanted to learn it, he did. Quickly. And thoroughly. As much as he liked the idea of the rough and tumble life of becoming a made man in the family, he looked enviously at Benny. Benny was a lawyer and commanded respect in the family second only to the Don. Benny was the family’s lawyer, and Benny was young enough that Leo would be an old man before he could ever think about being the family’s lawyer. He would never consider being Benny’s assistant because he knew he was smarter than Benny and would be a better lawyer. Benny should be his assistant, but that would never happen and he knew it. So he had to choose between being a lawyer and living outside the family, or giving up the idea of having the respect of being a lawyer and becoming a made man in the family. It was a wrenching decision. Leo had confided with Ernie in a need to talk it over with someone, and shared his innermost thoughts, including his desire to become a lawyer. While he didn’t tell Ernie he had applied to law schools, Ernie pretty well knew he had.

Ernie threw himself back, sinking deeply into the cushions in the corner of the booth they occupied. He looked at Leo and sympathized with the difficulty Leo was going through. “So what’s it going to be, my friend? You have to make a decision.”

Manny snorted with disgust at Leo’s continuing inability to simply swear allegiance and be done with it. Ernie looked over at Manny and said, “Shut the fuck up Manny. This doesn’t concern you, it involves brains.” Ernie was one of the very few people who could talk to Manny that way and get away with it. For the most part, Leo could too, but he was hesitant to exercise the ability, partly for fear that Manny might have revoked the privilege without telling him.

Leo looked at Ernie and asked, “What do you think I should do?” This was the first time he had asked Ernie directly for his advice in this matter. Ernie had had the answer ready for months, since they had first discussed it. He had only been waiting for Leo to ask. He answered his friend, “I think you should order another round. No, two. I think you should have a drink with your two best friends at this parting in our roads, then you should go home and in the morning talk to the Don. You should tell him that you want to go to law school, and ask for his blessing. He’ll give it to you. Then you should go to law school and never regret it. We will always be friends, Leo, always. Even if we aren’t family, we will never not be friends. Even dickhead Manny, here.” He laughed as he punched Manny in the arm when he said that. Manny understood the gravity of the decision being made, even if he didn’t like it. He looked over at Leo, and slowly nodded his head without saying anything.

Leo looked at his two friends for a long minute, then turned in his seat, raised his arm, holding two fingers out while he moved his hand in a circular motion over the table and called loudly, “Hey, Luigi.”

*** The Present ***

Leonardo Ciffetti moved to Eastlake shortly after graduating from law school. At that time, Eastlake was a growing community, and was central to much of what was happening in the southwest corner of the United States. It had lots of potential. But after a few frustrating years, Leonardo Ciffetti realized that in this somewhat prejudiced bible-thumping corner of the world, someone named Leo Clifton, rather than the very ethnic-sounding Leonardo Ciffetti would have a much more lucrative career. Leo Clifton quickly became a rising star and shortly thereafter, a millionaire.

He never lost touch with Ernie or Manny. In keeping with Ernie’s prediction, the three of them retained a deep friendship despite a few periods of long absences and infrequent phone calls.

Manny ‘made his bones’ long before Ernie did, but Ernie rose far higher in the family. Manny became a ‘capo’, with authority second only to the Don. Ernie was the Don. Manny remained a capo, although much feared by anyone who wasn’t his friend. Ernie became the Don over a group of families. Ernie became the Don over the entire state, then over the western United States. Ernie eventually moved to Las Vegas to establish the headquarters for his multi-state criminal empire, taking Manny, his long-time friend and capo, with him.

Manny could not keep his dick in his pants and tried to screw every showgirl in town, regardless if she was free or enslaved. Those who resisted found it difficult to dance with a broken leg. Or they found they were no longer suited for a chorus line with scars on their faces. When he unknowingly messed up a beauty that Ernie was about to take into his own bed, Ernie finally called him in and told him he was moving. Ernie suggested he move to Eastlake where Leo could watch out for him. Manny wasn’t dumb enough not to get the message. He moved to Eastlake.

By this time Leo was in charge at Daniels, Harper & Beam. Leo had a list of names he circulated to every lawyer in the firm. The list was simple in concept. If a lawyer was working on a case and one of the names on the list appeared as part of the case, that case was to be turned over to Leo instantly. The day Leo heard that Manny was moving to Eastlake, Manny’s name got added to the list.

When Frank Shapiro received a phone call from a man named Shadow who was inquiring about filing a suit against somebody who had whipped one of his slaves, Frank thought it would be a waste of time. A profitable waste of time, but that was this guy Shadow’s problem. He began by getting the pertinent details over the phone. Then he got the police and insurance company’s reports. The name of the driver who had done the whipping seemed vaguely familiar, but Frank couldn’t quite place it. Some half-remembered thought made him pull out Leo’s list. When the name Michelangelo Cabrelli appeared on both Leo’s list and the police report of the accident and whipping, Shadow’s meeting got changed to Leo Clifton instead of Frank Shapiro.

So Leo studied the man sitting in the chair facing him, trying to decide how to handle…meaning discourage…the processing of this case. When he learned that Shadow was involved with manufacturing, and product design and development, he wrongly concluded that Shadow would know almost nothing about the intricacies of the WSA2000, or of slave law in general. Leo didn’t think to ask, and Shadow didn’t volunteer the fact that he held a federal slaver’s license. Leo began by explaining that he had studied Frank’s notes, read the various reports Frank had acquired and researched relevant case law. He asked Shadow to recount the details of the whipping, just to be sure no detail had been overlooked in the original telling of the incident to Frank. He then asked Shadow what it was that Shadow hoped to achieve and what his thoughts were about how to proceed. When Shadow finished his recitation, Leo was confident he could dissuade any action, and proceeded to begin doing that.

“Well, sir,” he began, “unfortunately you don’t have much of a basis for any significant recovery. Lets look at your claims first. You can claim loss of her sexual services. For a few thousand bucks you get a new slave. A new slave costs less than my fee. You can claim lost time because she was a test bed for the products you are developing. He can counter that unforeseen delays are a normal business risk. He can argue that you were negligent in putting critical test materials in a slave since slaves are normally prone to damage. He can further claim if the materials had to be in her, as opposed to some other slave, then you should have kept her chained in a cell where she couldn’t get hurt. Shows more negligence on your part. You want to claim trespass on your property because he fucked her? Slaves are meant to be fucked. Besides, even if you won on that point, it’s only a misdemeanor. There are other possibilities, but believe me, they all wash away just as easily as these did.

Now, from her standpoint. Granted she was damaged, but she is a slave and nobody, including the law, really cares a whole lot about what happens to a slave. You can torture and kill slaves all day long, and the law simply doesn’t care. Now, if she were a free woman we would have a very different situation. The fact that she has to undergo surgery to repair the damage would open up substantial pain and suffering avenues, as well as a potential for recouping losses suffered from the delay of your product testing since it would be hampering her career and her ability to earn a living, stemming from her inability to continue her work. Many possibilities would be open. But,” he shrugged, indicating the hopelessness of the matter, “that is only wishful thinking. As it stands, I suggest you allow me to contact this Mr. Cabrelli on your behalf and try to negotiate a cash settlement without specific legal action. I must warn you however, it won’t be a huge amount.” Leo knew he could pry thirty to fifty thousand out of Manny with no difficulty. He would offer Shadow ten grand as a first round settlement offer, then inch it upwards. He probably wouldn’t have to offer more than twenty five.

Shadow shocked him when he responded, “Then let’s pursue the pain and suffering, along with the other possibilities.”

Leo figured he was dealing with a real dunce. “Mr. Shadow, you don’t understand. Those possibilities would only be available if she was a free woman.”

Shadow smiled smugly, then retorted, “I understand completely. She is a free woman. I am speaking on her behalf at the moment. Let’s initiate action on all possible fronts.”

Now Leo was somewhat confused. “I thought she was a slave. Are you telling me that Mr. Cabrelli whipped a free woman and the police didn’t do anything?” Actually, the police did quite a lot. They raped the shit out of her.

“No. She was a slave when the whipping took place. She is now a free woman. I freed her yesterday.”

Leo’s mind was racing. How the fuck do I get out of this now? I just got through telling the guy the pot of gold was available if she was free, and the son-of-a-bitch actually freed her. Hoping to stall for time, Leo fell back into the idea of an out-of-court settlement. “Let me contact Mr. Cabrelli. Who knows, he might have the wherewithal to support a million dollar settlement, and avoiding court is still in your…and your ex-slave’s, best interests.”

Shadow knew this meeting was over, but he wasn’t done just yet. As he rose to shake hands again and say good-bye, he said, “I am thinking more in the vicinity of a fifteen or twenty million dollar settlement.” And I will happily settle for ten mil, but I can’t start where I hope to finish. Nancy will be thrilled with that.

As soon as Shadow was out the door, Leo picked up the phone. He called Ernie. When he finished the conversation with Ernie, he called Manny. As he expected would happen, Manny went off like a skyrocket. He flatly refused to consider, discuss or agree to any settlement, period. He summarily informed Leo that “the fucking bitch” would be in the ground before her pussy recovered from the whipping he had given her. Leo reminded him that “the fucking bitch” was now a free woman, and killing a free woman would attract a lot of police attention. Leo further pointed out that given the fact that she would be suing him for untold millions, his name would be so high up on the suspect list that the police would need a telescope to see it. Manny laughed, as though that might actually matter.

Then Leo pulled the rug out from under Manny. “I already spoke to Ernie about this. Ernie says this is personal between you and this woman. He was clear, Manny, this is personal. It’s not family. It’s not business. If you do anything, you have to do it. No help from friends. Your hands, nobody else’s. He doesn’t even want family used for an alibi when you do it. The family is OUT of this picture. You hearing me, Manny? Ernie isn’t fucking around. You so much as make a phone call about this and Ernie will drop a dime on you.” Manny knew that if Ernie ‘dropped a dime’ on him, he would be dead within forty-eight hours. Manny cursed, but he knew he was boxed in. The Don had issued a decision, and that was as final as it got. What Manny didn’t realize was that Ernie had anticipated his reaction, and he hoped, although he knew it might be a futile hope, that Manny would get the message. By isolating Manny this way, Ernie knew there was just a slight possibility that his friend would realize Ernie was trying to tell him to leave it alone without ordering him to leave it alone. Ernie would have been honestly pleased to know that Manny understood the message. But, Manny realized, as he thought about it, he hadn’t been ordered off the matter, he had been freed to act on his own. He was still pissed, and it was never a good thing to have Manny pissed at you. After a few seconds of silence while he thought it over, Manny finally growled, “So what. I’ll go after the fucking bitch all by myself.”

For the next few minutes, Leo tried, unsuccessfully, to calm Manny down and to make him reconsider his intentions. They hung up with Manny still adamant that he was going to handle “the fucking free bitch” all by himself.

Leo knew full well that Manny wasn’t afraid of killing with his own hands, he had already done so many times. Neither was he all that concerned with the possibility of getting arrested and tried for murder one. Manny might not be concerned about that, but Leo was. If nothing else, he didn’t want to see his friend getting a lethal injection. Although, he knew Manny might choose the chair if they offered it to him, just to be perverse. But more, he knew Ernie expected him to keep an eye on Manny, and to keep him out of trouble. He felt he would be letting Ernie down if Manny got caught for murdering “the fucking bitch”. After thinking about it for quite a while, Leo hit on a scheme. It was a long shot, but sometimes long shots paid off. He would call Shadow the following day and set up a meeting for a day or two after that. Then he would try his long shot.

Shadow drove home from the meeting with Leo thinking about his two slaves. He had ordered them to begin their slave service by cleaning the apartment. There were no sexy maid outfits for them yet, but that wasn’t reason to wait before work began. The apartment wasn’t all that large to begin with, and Nancy had kept up with keeping it pretty clean, so he figured the two of them could do the entire place in no more than three or four hours. That should mean they would be back at the computer shopping for clothing he might approve of them wearing. He thought it would be a good time to take one of them to bed for an hour or so. He had taken Sasha into his bed last night and fucked her a few times, so doing Rita when he got home seemed like a good idea.

When he got home, he found Rita and Sasha giggling together in front of the computer screen. They were shopping and making jokes about some of the more outlandish products available. As soon as Sasha became aware of his presence, she jumped up and hurried over to him. She tried to kiss his lips, but he turned his head and she had to settle for his cheek. Undeterred, she snaked one arm around his waist and placed her other hand flat on his stomach, then slowly moved it downward, inching it lower as she forced it behind his belt. She tried to find raw skin where his shirt ended. She pressed her considerable breast into the side of his chest and asked seductively, “May I give my master a blow job? Or better, perhaps he would enjoy my pussy in his bed again.” He made it abundantly clear that even though it was after midnight when he fucked me last night, that doesn’t count for a “today” fucking. So either I get his cock in me, or I get his whip on me. I would much prefer the cock alternative, despite what Rita says.

For his part, Shadow was impressed by the initiative Sasha was demonstrating. She obviously understands the fuck-or-be-whipped rule, and she is doing a damn fine job of trying to swing it to the fuck side of the equation. It’s too bad I decided on Rita before I got here, accepting this offer might encourage her to continue being a good slave. She is really adapting well to being my slave.

Rita watched with disgust. My own sister. And I tried to tell her, just take a few whippings and in the long run life will be much easier. Especially with Mr. Give-Me-Good-Sex-Or-I-Will-Whip-You. The original dork line What am I going to do with her? She will make it harder for both of us if she doesn’t listen to me.

Before Shadow had the chance to pry Sasha off of him, the phone rang. Damn, I never ordered the girls to answer the phone, nor did I tell them how to do it. Ok, I’ll get this one. It turned out to be Nancy. “Hi Sh…uhhh, boss, got a minute?

Shadow chuckled. “It’s ok Nancy, you are a free woman now, you may call me Shadow.”

“I know, it’s just that it feels so weird addressing you by your name after calling you ’master’ for so long.”

“You are perfectly free to call me master if you wish.”

“And I can suck your cock too, I’ll bet.”

“Only if you ask politely.”

“What??!! Are you tired of your two hotties already? You miss good old Nancy the cock-sucking queen?”

“Of course I miss you. Bring that nice little pussy of yours over here and I will give it another good whipping and fucking, just like old times. Or; what else can I do for you?”

“Actually boss, I want to ask you to send Sasha over here. There are a few bits of clothing I want to see on her before I send them over. I thought I might save you the trouble of having to reject them if they don’t look all that good.”

“Your timing is exquisite. I was just about to take Rita to bed for a bit, so Sasha is yours for the asking for an hour or two. Will you want her longer than that?”

“No, a couple of hours will be fine.”

“I will put her in a cab and pay for it at this end. You do the same when you send her home.”

“Will do. Thanks, boss.”

Shadow hung up the phone, then turned to the two girls. “We are going downstairs. I want to introduce you to the doormen and one you haven’t seen is on duty right now. Then Sasha, you are going back to your old apartment for a bit. Nancy wants you.”

Sasha huddled in the back of the cab for the ride over to her old apartment. She hated being nude in public, but Shadow hadn’t given her an option. She silently prayed that she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew before she got into the apartment. Her prayer didn’t work. She was mortified to see three of her former neighbors talking in front of the building when the taxi pulled up. She tried to stay hidden in the rear seat of the cab, hoping the neighbors would leave, but the driver got annoyed when she didn’t move quickly. “If you wanna stay in the fucking cab, bring that sweet pussy up here and you can stay here until I cum in it” he barked. Sasha knew there was no way to not be seen, so, covered with embarrassment, she exited the cab. It only took a few seconds before they were staring at her, and making crude remarks. She honestly feared one of the men was going to make her get on her knees and give him a blow job. She managed to get into the lobby without her fear being realized, and she hurried to the elevators to get away. The only reason I think he didn’t make me blow him, was because he didn’t realize he could. I hope he doesn’t find out before I leave.

Nancy answered the door, and Sasha ducked inside as quickly as she could. Nancy smirked at her. “Being nude in public isn’t fun, is it?” Sasha mutely shook her head. Her silent response annoyed Nancy, who knew how to be a proper slave and expected Sasha to be one.

“You haven’t learned, have you? Damn, I should have had Shadow give you a whip to bring with you, I could use one right now. And I don’t suppose I can go banging on doors asking to borrow one. Shit. Ok, we will make do. I will deal with your punishment in a minute. In the meantime, get on your knees.”

Sasha immediately dropped into the high kneeling position. Her thighs were vertical and her face was tilted toward the floor, but it was that way from embarrassment, not subservience.

Nancy continued to verbally abuse her slave. “You ignorant cunt, when you are addressed by a free person, you will respond. I asked you a question, and I expected a polite response. Would you like to apologize to me, you worthless, brainless piece of shit?”

“Yes ma’am, I would, if you will permit me to.”

“Would you like to be allowed to call me Nancy?”

Sasha thought quickly, knowing she was being steered into a trap and hoping to avoid it. She responded, “That would be impolite. Someone of my lowly station shouldn’t do that unless she is ordered to by someone of your high station. Are you ordering me to do that ma’am?” Shove it up your ass, bitch. Don’t you remember what it was like being a slave?

Nancy could not think of a way to find fault with that response, so she gruffly said, “Address me as mistress.”

“Yes, mistress.”

Nancy moved over to a comfortable, stuffed chair and seated herself. She crossed her legs and the short skirt she was wearing rode up very high on her. She watched Sasha, who remained unmoving, then commanded, “Get over here.”

Sasha remembered Shadow ordering her to him when she was on her knees. She had received a whipping for getting to her feet when she complied. She was learning. She shuffled over, staying on her knees. When she got close to Nancy’s knees, she stopped. Awww, fuck. I know where this is headed. But I had better ask…I will probably get whipped if I don’t. Is this all a slave’s life is? Sex and whippings? “What may I do for you, mistress?”

In response, Nancy slowly uncrossed her legs in motion reminiscent of Sharon Stone’s famous beaver shot in the movie ‘Basic Instinct’. But rather than crossing her legs again, Nancy left them widely spread. Sasha could clearly see her new mistress wore no underwear.

Nancy reached down and pulled her skirt the short distance it needed to go to completely expose her pussy. When she was settled, she smiled cruelly at Sasha and said, “I am beginning to understand the fascination some women have with not wearing any underwear. I may adopt that style of dress myself. Now begin your apology, slut.”

Sasha moved forward, positioning herself in between Nancy’s spread legs. She hadn’t really been concentrating on watching Rita when she had licked Nancy, because other things seemed more important at that point in time. Like feeling her tongue being pulled out of her mouth, and that incredibly painful whip that was being used on her pussy. Still, she had noticed that Rita worked her way up Nancy’s leg slowly before getting to the other woman’s pussy. She wasn’t sure, but she figured she had better do the same. As soon as her lips came into contact with Nancy’s thigh, Sasha had a ‘Duhhh’ realization. Why have I been so concerned with not knowing what to do? If I had a man doing this to me, what would I want him to do? What would I enjoy him doing? All I have to do, is do that to Nancy! Duhhh!!

Sasha began by nuzzling the insides of Nancy’s thighs then lightly brushing her tongue over the entire expanse of skin, passing quickly over her pussy, in a teasing fashion. Nancy understood the teasing for what it was, and said nothing, allowing Sasha to continue her efforts. After spending time getting Nancy worked up, Sasha began moving ever closer to her target, alternating between licking and kissing Nancy’s thighs, with rapid flicks of her tongue directly on the now engorged pussy lips. As she alternated between the two sites, she gradually spent more time licking Nancy’s pussy lips and less time on her thighs. Finally she settled on just the enflamed pussy lips, running her tongue up the length of them, repeatedly. She then began inserting her tongue between them just a little bit, then retreating and resuming her licking of the lips.

Nancy was being driven absolutely up the wall. Her breathing was coarse and labored, her heart was pounding and her pussy was sopping wet, but not just from Sasha’s tongue. Shadow had given her pretty good sex. Great on those occasions when he actually concentrated on making her cum. But a stiff cock being rammed into your pussy was totally unlike to a pair of soft lips, even ones that knew what they were doing. Nancy had, on a number of occasions, asked Shadow which he preferred to cum in: a mouth or a pussy. His usual answer was, “Whichever one I am in the mood for.” One night, when he was in a mellow mood, and being a bit more introspective than he usually let her see, he answered more honestly. He admitted to preferring pussy for the most part, but added a caveat, saying that addressed just the physical sensations. Based on the purely physical sensations, pussy was better, no question about it. But, adding a psychological component, of having a slave on her knees with his cock in her mouth brought a whole new element into the equation. For a Dom, which he most definitely was, that was a very significant element. He concluded by saying, “It’s almost impossible to say one is better. They are different, but any further distinction is too dependent on the specific circumstances to make a hard-and-fast rule.”

Since he was apparently willing to speak honestly to her at that moment, Nancy thought it was an excellent opportunity to try to peek a little into his thought processes and gain some understanding about him. It wasn’t so much that she cared for him as a person, as one lover will try to understand more about the other, but she realized it might save her from a whipping or two, and that was worth pursuing. So she asked, “What is so different psychologically?” He didn’t answer for a bit, making her think he would ignore the question, but he had only been assembling his response in an effort to have it make sense. He began by saying, “Think of it this way. A pussy is designed to accept a cock. I can shove my cock in you whether you are willing or not. Hell, you could be dead or unconscious, and I could still fuck you. But putting those aside, assuming you are warm and awake, your body will still respond, even without your voluntarily participation, and I will receive much of the pleasure you are capable of producing. So despite any unwillingness on your part, you will simply be inert or generally unresponsive, but not useless. A blowjob, on the other hand, requires your participation. Whether willing or forced, you must actively participate. Without slicing it into varying shades of degree, just consider the unwilling end of the spectrum. Despite your presumed unwillingness, your active participation is clear and convincing proof of your submission. Your submission to me is a major driver in my pleasure. Fucking your pussy is totally devoid of that psychological element since there may not be any comparable proof of submission. Of course you can begin to add that element by responding and actively participating in vaginal sex, but now we are playing with degrees and shading.”

Nancy didn’t respond immediately because she was thinking about what he had said. The one thought that embedded itself in her mind was, He wants to see my submission. I am his slave, and I accept that. I will do whatever he wants, I don’t have a problem with that, I just have to remember to make a visible effort of showing that I am submitting to his authority. Obedience, plus. I can swallow humiliation as easily as I swallow his cum. That’s much easier to accept than a whipping.

Nancy had not fully believed him then, but she was becoming a believer now. She knew she would never tire of having her pussy stuffed with a cock, but damn, this woman was giving the pleasure from a stiff cock a run for the money. No question, the physical aspect of tongue versus cock is totally different. But Sasha is submitting to ME. I am making her give me pleasure, it is not some master who has commanded her to do it. Even when we were in Shadow’s apartment and it was Rita between my legs, it was still Shadow’s presence that controlled everything. Now it is just me, and I LIKE it. Thanks boss, I think I am beginning to understand what you were trying to tell me.

Sasha then set to work in a serious effort to bring Nancy to full arousal and then climax. She pushed her sore tongue as deeply as she could into Nancy’s steaming pussy. She did her best to imitate a cock with it, fucking Nancy with her tongue. While continuing that, she also brought her lips into service, using them to further rub and stimulate Nancy’s labia. When it became too much for her tongue, and she could no longer sustain that effort, she shifted tactics to concentrate on Nancy’s swollen clit. She began by rubbing that sensitive bit of flesh gently with her tongue. After a few seconds, she replaced her tongue, by rubbing it harder with her pursed lips. When Nancy started moaning and bucking her hips, Sasha ever so softly nibbled on the enflamed clit using her teeth. That pushed Nancy over the edge. When Nancy thrashed and cried out her orgasm, Sasha mashed her tongue onto the abused clit and licked it as hard as she could, pushing the other woman deeper into orgasm. Even when Nancy’s passion abated somewhat, Sasha’s efforts didn’t. She redoubled her efforts with her tongue, speeding up the motion of her tongue over the now super-sensitive sex switch, and forced it to remain in the ‘on’ position. It took only seconds of that tremendous effort and Sasha forced Nancy into another orgasm. Nancy screamed her delight, grabbing Sasha’s head and forcing it into her pussy as she gushed strongly into Sasha’s mouth.

Even Nancy was finally sated after that, and she released Sasha’s head. She sat, burrowing herself deeply into the cushions of the chair, allowing her body to calm itself. After many minutes, she roused herself with thoughts of the further pleasures in store, if only she would move and bring them about. That proved sufficiently motivating that she unfolded her legs and stood up. She looked at the glistening face of the slave at her feet, then said, “That was a decent apology. So good, in fact, that I will be lenient with your punishment.” She had no intention of being the least bit lenient, but she thought it sounded good. Many times Shadow had said something similar to her, then brought on some horrible punishment. She now felt pretty sure he had done to her what she was now doing to Sasha. Back then she had often wondered why he punished her so much, particularly when she thought she didn’t really merit punishment. Now she understood why. Because it was sexually arousing and there was a willing…well, maybe not willing, but a ready source of release at hand. And it was fun.

Sasha’s heart felt like it fell into her feet. I thought that was my punishment. Now what? Pain, most likely. Why is she doing this to me?

Nancy wandered around the apartment seeking inspiration for a good way to punish that little blonde sexpot. As inspiration does, it came out of nowhere and in a flash. “Slave, get over here.” Sasha hurried over. “Go through your clothing, get every belt you have and bring them all here. Oh, and bring a scarf. An opaque one.”

Nancy moved over to the dining room table; a heavy, large piece of furniture that looked like it would seat ten comfortably. She started to shove it where she wanted it, then stopped. I have a slave to do this. Leaving the table for the moment, she went into the kitchen in search of string. She found a nice large ball of it in one of the drawers. When she returned to the dining room, Sasha stood there with an armload of assorted belts.

Excellent, she has more than enough belts for what I have in mind. “Put the belts on the table, then shove the table over here. I want the edge of the table a foot past the chandelier.” She pointed to where she wanted the table moved to, then watched Sasha struggle with getting it in place. When that was done, Sasha was ordered to stand at one end, with her back to the table. Nancy selected two narrow belts. She went to Sasha, told her to place her wrists together and hold her hands in front of her. It was obvious that Nancy meant to bind her hands, so Sasha obligingly raised her hands, pressed them together at the wrists, then held them at a height such that her mistress could easily tie them together.

Nancy used one belt, simply winding it around Sasha’s wrists, then buckled it tightly. She threaded the end of the second belt between Sasha’s arms, looped it around the belt holding Sasha’s wrists, twice, pulled it tight, then buckled it but left a large loop in it in front of her hands. She would connect to that loop in a few minutes. Using two more belts, she secured Sasha’s ankles to the table legs, holding Sasha’s legs widely separated. Satisfied with Sasha’s legs for the moment, she turned her thoughts to Sasha’s arms. I need some way to tie her arms to the table. Another inspiration was quick in coming. She ordered Sasha to lie back on the table and to extend her arms over her head. She then grabbed a few belts and moved to the other end of the table. She looped a belt around one leg of the table, then buckled it loosely. She did the same to the other leg. A third belt was used to connect the first two, and to pull them tight. The ‘chain’ of belts between the two legs at the end of the table now gave her an anchoring point.

A belt was fed through the loop at Sasha’s wrists, but it was too short to reach the anchor chain she had just created. Another belt was added to the first one coming from Sasha’s wrists, to extend it far enough to reach the anchor. She pulled that belt tight and buckled it. Sasha was now securely fastened to the tabletop with her legs spread and her arms pulled tightly over her head. There were a few belts remaining, so she took two more and placed them on Sasha’s legs at about knee height, then around the table legs.. These were also pulled tight and buckled. These belts removed the very little bit of motion Sasha might have had in her legs. Plus, they hurt. They pulled Sasha’s legs painfully wide. Nancy surveyed her work, then frowned. Belts remained unused. At a loss for anything else to do, she took one final belt and wrapped it around Sasha’s arms by her elbows. This one too was pulled very tight, forcing her elbows together, then buckled. Nancy then took the scarf and used it to blindfold Sasha. Satisfied with the bondage, Nancy went into the bedroom.

She took a small table lamp from beside the bed, removed the shade, then bent the wire shade bracket down and out of the way. She returned to the dining room with it and tied a long piece of the string she had found earlier around the lamp’s base. She held the string and allowed the lamp to hang, upside down, from the string. After a few minor adjustments so that the lamp hung almost perfectly straight down, she was satisfied with it. She then looped the string over one of the arms of the chandelier that hung from the ceiling. After a few seconds of adjusting the height, she tied the lamp to the chandelier so that it hung by itself. The end result was that the bulb in the lamp now hung between Sasha’s legs, at a height even with Sasha’s pussy, around six inches away One end of a final length of string was tied around the base of the bulb socket. Nancy took the free end of that string and. stood beside Sasha. She formed a tiny loop knot, placed it over Sasha’s right nipple and pulled it very tight. The nipple instantly distended and began to darken. Nancy had damn near cut it off, she had pulled the string so tight.

Nancy gently raked Sasha’s stomach and abdomen with her fingernails. She softly rubbed Sasha’s pussy lips than asked, “Did you shave your pussy before you were a slave?”

“No, mistress, I didn’t.”

“Shadow ordered you to shave it, didn’t he?”

“Yes mistress, he did.”

“Well, then, slave, I will do you a favor. Shadow likes his slaves well shaved. He gets very annoyed if you are not very smooth, he hates stubble. Most women are not adept at shaving their pussy, especially first-timers like you, so they tend to be very hesitant. That means hairs get missed, or are not closely shaved. Because I am so nice, I will give you an inspection before he does. And you will thank me because he will whip you if he finds stubble. Usually one stroke per hair. He delivers the strokes on your pussy, of course. I will be right back.”

Nancy went into the bathroom where she found a pair of tweezers. Actually, two. She had a choice of one with a sharp point on the end, and one with a square end. She chose the pointy one. Returning to the dining room, she pulled a chair close to Sasha’s pussy and turned the lamp on. With the light so close, it made the tiny hair stubble very visible. She settled her arms on the table and went to work. She dug the point of the tweezers deeply into Sasha’s skin, grabbed the end of the hair with the jaws and yanked. Sasha stifled a yelp. Nancy chose to work on a tiny section, concentrating the pain as much as she could. By the time ten minutes had passed, Sasha was crying.

Nancy finally got bored with pulling the hairs. She was also slightly aroused from watching Sasha twitch, and listening to her moans and tears. She realized she would have to send the slave back shortly, so she decided to try for one final orgasm before doing so. She climbed up onto the table, worked up to where she could sit in Sasha’s chest, then settled her pussy firmly against the slave’s mouth. “You know what we are going to do now, don’t you, slave?”

Sasha had known instantly, what was being pressed against her lips. Without waiting for orders, she extended her tongue, once again, into Nancy’s waiting pussy. It was hard to move her head, and to give Nancy the same stimulation as she had done earlier, but Sasha tried to do her best. Nancy was not pleased with the effort. She gently rocked her hips back and forth, silently urging her slave to greater effort. When that proved unsuccessful, she rocked harder, and commanded, “C’mon slave, get with it.” That didn’t help to improve matters. Somewhat exasperated, Nancy said in a resigned tone, “I tried to do this the nice way, but you just don’t want to learn. You don’t listen. So now we will do this the nasty way.” With that, she reached behind her, taking hold of the string tied to the lamp and pulled. The hot bulb moved forward and settled tightly against Sasha’s pussy lips. Nancy held it there.

Sasha howled. With her mouth buried in Nancy’s pussy, her shriek of pain was muffled down to almost nothing. But Nancy felt it as much as she heard it. She relaxed the string enough that the bulb moved away from Sasha’s skin. Nancy muttered with venom in her voice, “Now get to work, slut, or I do this again.” With that, she pulled the lamp back into contact with Sasha’s pussy. Sasha wailed in agony. She tried to buck and thrash, but tied as she was, her best efforts were reduced to minor twitching and trembling. Her tongue however, found new life. Nancy was very pleased.

Nancy quickly found that she received the most pleasure when she held the bulb in contact with Sasha’s pussy. Being concerned only with her own pleasure, she held the bulb against her more than not. Sasha’s pussy received a very nasty burn. Nancy’s pussy received a very good licking. Only one of them came.

When Nancy eventually released Sasha, she asked, “Do you have any clothing here that Shadow might allow you to wear?”

“Yes mistress, I have a few things he might like to see on me.”

“Then gather them quickly and get the hell out of here, I have things to do.”

Before sending Sasha out the door, Nancy allowed her to phone for a cab, gave her a twenty dollar bill, and told her to go wait in the lobby for the cab. When it arrived, Sasha dashed out to jump into the back seat. When the driver realized she was alone, he demanded payment before he would move anywhere. Sasha proffered the twenty, and watched it disappear so quickly, she knew there would be no change for what should have been a ten or eleven dollar ride, including the tip. Shortly after they got underway, the driver made an unexpected turn into a minor side street. He got out of the cab and moved to the rear door. Sasha knew without question that he planned something vile, and momentarily considered getting out the door on the other side. But she realized there was no way she outrun him, even as fat as he was, and she had no more money. By this time, he was in the back seat with her. He gave her a crooked-tooth smile and began to unbuckle his pants.

She had been able to smell his body odor as soon as she had gotten into the cab and opened a window to help dissipate the foul air. Up close, it was overpowering. When he grabbed her around the back of her head, and pressed her nose into the stench of his crotch she started to gag. But she also knew she had no choice.

It was probably her imagination, but she swore his cum was rancid.

When he eventually deposited her in front of her address, she painfully exited the cab. The doorman recognized her, so he did nothing to impede her entry, but he didn’t open the door for her either. Sasha realized it would take four or five blowjobs before he would render any service at all, then probably one a week to maintain any amount of consideration from him. The night doorman would be the same. There weren’t all that many slaves living in this apartment building, so the few that did would have to keep the doormen happy by themselves. There was little fear of there being too many slaves competing for them, such that there might be a glut of willing mouths resulting in the doormen being unable to accept that many blowjobs. Sasha resolved to make a trip to visit with the doorman as soon as she was able to get a few free minutes. Having him and the others cooperative or helpful might prove useful some day, and sex was her only coin of trade.

Rita answered the door to let her sister into the apartment. Although she said nothing, Sasha was immediately aware of the unhappy look on Rita’s face. Rita led the way into the living room. As soon as they entered, Shadow looked up and cheerfully said, “Oh, good, you’re home. I was afraid we were going to have to begin without you.” He watched her as she walked into the room. It was obvious she was in pain. “What happened to you?”

“Mistress Nancy punished me.”

Mistress Nancy? “And what did she punish you for?”

“I am not sure master, I think it was because I didn’t answer a question that I didn’t think she wanted me to answer.”

Must have been one hell of a punishment seeing how much it apparently still hurts. I will have to speak to Nancy about punishing my slaves. She should make it clear to them what they are being punished for. When she buys her own, she can handle them however she pleases. “How did she punish you?”

“She held a lit lightbulb against my pussy.”

That was clever, I never punished her that way. But I always had a whip handy; I’ll bet she doesn’t have one. Yet. “Show me.”

Sasha went to stand in front of where he was seated, then raised her leg in a vertical split and held it that way for his inspection.

She sure did. That is a pretty good burn. “I am afraid today just isn’t your day, Sasha.”

“I know, master, that wasn’t the only thing that happened..” Sasha wondered if he would ask, and how much she should tell him about the cab driver.

Shadow didn’t ask. Instead he brightly announced, “It’s bondage time for all the ladies of the house.” He winked at Sasha, saying, “I love seeing beautiful women in bondage. Your sister is well aware of that, aren’t you Rita?”

“Yes master, you told me that.”

“Ok, girls, I want you two to each select something to bind your arms. Then put ankle cuffs on. Oh, heels too, I think they will look nice. When you are ready, attach your ankles to the rings in the floor. Leave some slack, I don’t want your legs widely spread” Previously, Shadow had only one set of rings to hold his slave’s legs spread. When he knew he was getting Sasha, he had a second pair installed so he could secure both of them to the floor, side-by-side. The cable system in the ceiling was more than powerful enough to deal with two slaves simultaneously. He couldn’t raise them to different heights with only the one cable, but that was a minor matter. His new place would be much more capable of handling multiple slaves at the same time.

The girls had disappeared into the back to add the mandated heels then quickly placed themselves in the required position. Shadow admired their spread legs for a minute, then looked more closely at what they had each chosen. Rita had selected a heavy leather “single glove” arm binder. Sasha was holding a three inch high collar with an attached strap. The strap had wrist cuffs riveted to it that would hold her arms horizontally. It could be worn with her arms either in front or back, but as always, they would be in back. Once, just to try it, Shadow had locked Nancy in this restraint with her arms in front. He quickly decided he didn’t like it that way, and never did it again. He nodded his approval of their selections, then proceeded to apply the restraints to their arms. He pulled Rita’s single glove straps snug, then went back and tightened each again, until her arms were touching each other from elbows to wrists. Sasha’s device had a buckle toward the top of the strap that allowed the height of her wrists to be adjusted, ranging from the small of her back, upwards, to almost her shoulder blades. He didn’t pull them quite that far, but she was clearly unhappy with the result. When he was done, he caressed one of Sasha’s breasts and playfully tweaked the nipple. The fear growing inside her overrode the pleasure that might otherwise have given her.

Shadow stopped in front of the women, then focused his gaze on Sasha. “Before we get too far along, there is something you should know. While you were at Nancy’s place,” (Sasha inwardly winced at that. It still rankled her that her apartment and her belongings now belonged to somebody else.), “I took Rita to bed. I told Rita that any punishment she earned would be administered to both of you. I am sorry to tell you Sasha, that your sister doesn’t care what I do to you. She gave me a terrible fuck. Terrible. And she did so knowing that you would be the recipient of any pain she earned. It will be small consolation to you to know that she will literally be sharing your pain, as I will administer the identical punishment to both of you. And to think you became a slave in an effort to free her.” Maybe this will cause Sasha to put some pressure on Rita to straighten up.

Shadow then went to the armoire and withdrew two of the rotating punishment dildos. As soon as Rita saw what he was carrying, she softly murmured, “Oh no!” Sasha heard the despair in her voice, and when she looked at her sister and saw fear in her eyes as well. That must be the punishment device he used on Rita’s pussy. The one that hurt her so much. God damn her! I have to suffer because she is too proud to accept being a slave and to give good sex? And from what she said about that thing, I am really going to suffer. Damn her!

Shadow sat at the dining room table, fiddling with the dildos. He too had heard Rita’s muttering, so he turned to her with a big smile to say, “I have good news and bad news for you Rita. The good news is that you will wear this for a considerably shorter time than you did the other day when I brought you home. The bad news is, despite the shorter time, you will like this session a whole lot less. A whole lot less,” he emphasized.

During his fiddling with the dildo, he had removed the plastic shell; the part that actually went into the pussy, and replaced it with another one. “Allow me to demonstrate,” he said conversationally. He rose from the table and walked over to the two slaves. He held the plastic shell that he had removed from the dildo. He placed it lightly against Rita’s nipple and drew its length across her nipple. It slid easily, and felt rather good. Then he took the newly assembled dildo and did the same. With no more pressure than he used with the first one, this time the dildo caught and pulled at her nipple. As he pulled it across her nipple, it abraded the skin and became painful before he finished the motion. Rita realized what was going to happen to her, and without thinking about it she tried to pull her legs together in an unconscious effort to deny him access to her pussy. The chains, naturally, prevented her from doing anything of the sort. A knot of fear formed in her gut, and made its way to her lips, forcing the words from her mouth before she had a chance to think about what she was saying. “Dear god. Master, please, no. Master, I beg of you, please reconsider. This is inhuman. That thing will tear me…us…to raw meat. I haven’t recovered from the first session, my pussy is still very sore from it. With that on it, it will be…will be…oh, please, master, please master, don’t do this to me. Give me another chance, pleassseee, I will give you a good fuck, pleassseee.”

Sasha had never heard anyone beg so heartbreakingly. That it was coming from Rita only made it worse. Her sister didn’t beg. Besides, her sister was the one who had counseled, ‘Take the whipping, it will be better in the long run’. Now listen to her. And the fucking bitch has condemned me to the same punishment.

Shadow said nothing. He simply placed the tip of the dildo at the entrance to her pussy and shoved it forcefully in. “Remember your words the next time I take you to bed. And every time in the future. If you do, maybe you will save yourself from a repetition of the pain you are about to suffer through.”

As he jammed it into her, Rita winced and cried out. Just having it pushed into her was painful. He attached the leg straps, then turned to Sasha. He looked at her mouth, seeing it was set in a grim frown. “Your turn,” was all he said. He pushed the rough textured dildo into her pussy and saw the slight grimace of pain flash across her eyes. When he freed their legs, both slaves remained motionless. Rita was motionless because she knew what would happen when she moved, and Sasha had scoped it out to the point that she was willing to remain motionless for a week, if that was what it would take to get the dildo removed. Sadly for her, Shadow was not about to permit that.

He returned to the armoire to retrieve his favorite whip. Rita turned her head to watch him and when she saw which whip he had chosen, she turned white. Her voice shuddered as she pleaded, “Master, not that too. Oh dear, sweet, good, kind master, please master, not that whip. Have mercy, master, please.” Sasha looked at her sister, thinking, She’s terrified. Obviously he’s used that whip on her before, and it clearly made an impression on her. I don’t think I am being overly cautious in thinking that I want to avoid having him use it on me. And that probably means I don’t dare stop moving. So either I have my pussy ground into raw hamburger by this dildo, or I find out what it is about that whip that has Rita so petrified. Damn her for doing this to me.

Shadow abruptly commanded, “Ok, lets see some punishment taking place. Sasha, start walking. Rita, follow her. Stay with her. Sasha, get going NOW.” As he barked the last word at her, she forced herself to take a step. Just doing that caused her to take a sharp breath. The second step brought a whimper from her. At the third, she was beginning to fight back tears. By the third step, she felt a blossom of pain expanding in her pussy. It was a deep, burning, tearing, almost electric globe of pain filling her pussy. The next two steps doubled the size of the globe within her and somehow sharpened the sensation into feeling like a thousand pins were stuck in her and were being dragged through her flesh. Her very sensitive, tender flesh. The intensity of the pain grew with each step until it was so severe it was like a living creature gnawing its way through her.

She forced her leg forward again, but could no longer hold back her emotions. With a choked, teary voice, she began begging for pity. “Master, this is unfair. I have been as good as I know how to be. I have tried my best to please you. I will continue trying to please you and to give you the best sex I can. Please don’t do this to me.”

Shadow sat silent, unmoved by her pleading.

After a few more steps, both slaves were crying loudly. Their legs were moving as though they weighed a ton. Sasha made the mistake of stopping for a brief period of respite. Without waiting to hear her begging, or even for her to stop crying long enough to get a word out of her mouth, Shadow flicked the whip at her ass. He pulled it short of laying a stripe completely across both cheeks, but in pulling it up, he caused the tip to ‘snap’ right above her left cheek. The very end of the tip found her soft flesh and stung it like a tiny bolt of lightening. A deep red welt about an inch long instantly appeared, and a drop of blood oozed from one end.

The shocking pain in her ass made Sasha jump and involuntarily race forward. That, of cour