Dark Erotic Fiction

After the semi successful run of the show “Horrible Things for Hotties” I found myself doing make work at NMG. Seems that my ‘Bright Star’ background made them think I might not have the company as my primary focus. So, I got pulled off of the snuff and torture shows and spent a couple of months doing cooking show. And not the fun kind of cooking shows where some slut gets a spit up her cunt either, just the ones with normal stuff. I was bored off my skull. I think they were trying to make me resign. I damn near did. Any rate, after a fun filled day filming eggs being made into some sort of French breakfast thing, I log into my office email account. There is a short email from Hugh, my old boss. Seems he wants to see me this after noon.

When I arrive in his office, Cynthia, his slave/wife, is on her knees blowing him, while some young things strangles in a slow hang noose. He waves me toward a chair, which I sit down in. “So, what did she do there Hugh?” I asked, knowing full well that while he’s getting a snuff blow job he’s not going to talk business.

“Oh? Yeah, well, she was a coffee slave. I ordered coffee with creamer and two sugars. She gave me coffee with creamer only.”

“So you are snuffing her for not putting sugar in your coffee, of course, that’s an rational penalty.” Well, it is in this office. It’s not an reason I have used but I’ve done some things almost that bad. I did have one intern “summer slave volunteer” spit roasted for wearing 5 inch heels when she was told her dress code was 6 inch or higher heels.

“ah ah ahh…. Yeah… oh yeah….”

He must be cumming now. He’s not real coherent while he’s cumming. Less so than most men.

After a 30 seconds or so, he pulls Cynthia’s head off his cock and tells her to leave, but to notify housekeeping to come for a meat pick up in 15 minutes or so. Great, get to have a meeting with a dead slave hanging in the room. Could be worse.

“Well, Wendy, I’ve got you back on my team, assuming you don’t want to stay on ‘Eggs from around the world’ or what ever show they got you on now. Had to pull some strings, but I think you will like this project. You will be working with Mike West again, sort of. The idea is that you are going to follow some of those slaver trainees that he has around for a semester. There is going to be a change up, some of them are going to be trainee torturers, so we are going to go ahead and make this the current series of ‘Horrible Things for Hotties’. We are calling this one ‘HtH: The Back to School Special’. So, you want the job or not?”

Did I want it? A chance to film 18 and 19 year old students get enslaved and tortured? He is crazy or what? Of course I wanted it. “Yeah, I’ll take it, what’s the catch? Last time you wanted me to take something like this, you made me a slave. What is it this time?”

“You wound me… I am cut to my quick. Why, how can you say that?”

“Cut the crap, what’s the catch”

“For the first season, all you get is directory of photography credits. Sorry, this lawsuit thing is being making every one touch about the former ‘Bright Star’ staff”

“Stay at my current pay scale?”

“Yes, of course, just you don’t get directory credits. You will be doing all the work, of course, I get the credits.”

That figures. I wonder if that really was a higher up’s decision or just Hugh feathering his own nest. Could go either way.

“Yeah, I’ll do it.”

After a week or so of setting things up with Mike and “Dutch Hall”, I find my self at the Dutch Hall metal shop, looking at a half dozen girls, talking with a Mr. Matthew Marsh, who might as well be called the school slaver.

“These slaves are our last year’s senior class cheerleaders. Seems that on the last day of school, they decided to show off in their cars. Cutting donuts and things like that in the school parking lot. Called the police on them. They were all arrested on either driving offense or contributing to a traffic offense. We bought them at the public auction, at first thinking they would be a good gift to the football team at homecoming, but this came along, and, well, it will be better all around, don’t you think? It’s not like we aren’t converting about half of the senior girls this year any way, at least according to the plan. I’ve got three in my office right now that I found with either drugs or alcohol during a random locker check. I’m not going to bid on them, they really aren’t grade A. Well, one of them is, at least if you use the Hill’s grading system, but she’s not my type.”

While he was talking my crew was welding steel bands around the ex-cheerleader’s wrists and ankles. The bands had attachment points for chains or what not. The key grip signaled at me, indicating that they were ready. “OK boys, string ‘em up by their wrists. Then let’s bring in the rest of the talent…”

I’ve settled into the new headquarters, gotten the 3 new retail stores going and generally dealt with what can only be called a major change in my whole operation.

The only real problem is I had not considered the number of walk in volunteers that I would get at the old home office. While I knew I was getting 3 or 4 a day, I didn’t figure how many of them were being dropped off by cabs, or via public transport and would not have an easy way to make it to the new digs, several miles south. The fix for the problem would be leave one of my new hires at the old office, and have a shuttle run twice a day with the SUV. Hopefully the new address will start to get out there and I can stop that service after a month or so.

One that did find her way to the new office, with needing a ride was of particular interest. She showed up at the office and the intern manning the desk rapidly decided that she wasn’t your normal walk in.

“Mr. West? There is a lady out here that I’m not sure what to do about.” I told him to send her back, thinking I know who is about to get canned if this isn’t really off the wall.

A few minutes later a tall, willowy brunette is lead back to my office. “Mr West? My name is Penelope Belson, and I want to do something special for my boyfriend on his birthday next week.”

OK, on firing coming up. “And you want to make your self is slave for it?”

“Oh, no. Not that. I want him to get a blow job from one of your blonde slaves while I get flogged by you.”

OK, scratch the firing, this is in fact weird.

“Excuse me?”

“We watch your show. Jon gets really hot and bothered when you flog a slave. Makes me give him head. He spanks me on the butt some times, so I know he would really get off on seeing me get the lash.”

“OK, I need to check with my legal staff, I’m not sure I can flog a free woman, with out opening me up to assault charges.”

“I’ll sign a wavier or release form, if that would help.”

“Let me get back with you. Please either come back in the morning or give us a call after lunch.” She nodded her head, then rose, offering me her hand. “I hope we can do this. I’m sure Jon will love it.”

I talked with my lawyer. The reply made me slap my head. He told me to treat her like I would a BDSM model prior to the White Slave Act of 2000’s passage. I still had those model release forms some where.

The next day Penelope arrives at the offices as we opened. “What did your lawyer say?” “He said that I’m a moron, and that he already had written the release for this sort of thing, back when I opened my first bondage web site in 1996. I need you sign a couple of forms and let’s talk price. I thing I can do this for an all up cost of $150.00. Is that going to be a problem?”

“No, that’s fine. Is Friday OK for this? ” “Sure, be here at 1:00 PM. for prep, and we can start at 1:30″

That Friday, right after lunch, Penelope showed up, saying that Jon would be here at 1:30. I told her that a set of slaves had been briefed and that he would be taken care of when he arrived. I asked her how she wanted this to happen. “I want you to strip me totally naked, put a spreader bar on my legs, and string me up with my arms over my head, hanging by my wrists. What you called an ‘inverted y’ on the show. Then give me 50 lashes with a single tail, while Jon watches and get his cock sucked by one of your slaves. No gag, I want Jon to hear me scream. Also no safe word either. Once you hit me with the first lash, give me all 50. Wake me up if I pass out.”

“OK, you seem to know what you want. I’m going to need the forms signed and your payment before we start, because I can assure you that after 50 lashes with a single tail, you are not going to be able to do any thing like make a payment for a while.” She signed the papers I had drawn up, and handing me her credit card to make payment.

Payment and paper work taken care of, I had a couple of the Dutch Hall student workers take her into the torture room “Set her up for a hanging whipping, with a spreader bar. This is a graded project.”

About 5 minutes later I went down to the punishment room, and found that there was, as directed, a drop cloth was hung which divided off about a third of the room. In the center of the room was Penelope, hanging in the inverted Y as requested. Looks like the pair of students would be getting high marks today. I picked up the single tail whip, then took up my position. Once there, I nodded to the two students who were standing at the ready at each end of the drop cloth. They each pulled on the rope holding the cloth to it’s frame, showing a 20 something white guy in one of our “comfy chairs” with a blonde slave on her kneed in front of him, giving him head. His hands were one her head and he was looking more or less straight up when the cloth fell. He brought his head down, and locked eyes with Penelope. He gasped out “Penny!” She simply said “Happy birthday Jon” Right after she said that I landed the first lash across her back, going from the right shoulder, down to just above her left hip. The lash left a bloody trail across her back, and, as expected started her to slowly rotate. I waited a second or two as her front can into range, then fired a horizontal lash, which landed mainly on her left breast, but the tip of the whip hit her right. This lash stopped her counter clock wise rotation and imparted a clockwise rotation. I dropped my arm and fired another horizontal stroke, causing her rotation to speed up. I decided that this was a good idea, and fired 3 or 4 more lashes, causing her to spin rather quickly. I changed my posting and tossed a few at her to slow her down, then go the other way. Once she very slowly spinning counter clock wise, I landed a diagonal stroke from her left shoulder to her right hip, then a cross lash going the other way. I fell into a rhythm of doing cross lashes, and must have landed dozen and half strokes on her bare back and ass. She was screaming during most of this, but as I landed the last of this series, she called out “Please, for the love of all that is holy, stop!” I stopped for a second, mainly to get my breath. “You said no safe words, bitch, you’ve got a dozen to go still.” She sobbed “I had no idea, please, stop, I beg you.” I locked eyes with Jon, who was face fucking the blonde slave, then raised the whip as if to through another stroke, then tilted my head in question to Jon. He wordlessly nodded and I fired the first of the dozen she had left to do. As I did she let out a scream I didn’t think she had left in her, and Jon grabbed the head of the blonde and started to cum in her mouth. I tossed the next 11 strokes as hard and as fast as I could.

As soon as I finished, I nodded to the two students, who raised the drop cloth back up, then lowered Penelope to the ground. I went to release her legs from the spreader bar and her arms from the over head attachment. She looked up at me and weakly said “I should have known better than say no safe word to a slaver. Something about the way she said that caught my attention. I stuck two fingers into her cunt, she was a wet as they come. I slowly finger fucked her and rubbed her clit with my thumb, “But you liked it. No, you loved it. How many times did you cum?” She looked up at me “How many.. oh,, oh.. times did you hit me ahhhhh!” I pulled my fingers out of her and stood up. I looked down at her, “Well, that was fun all around then.”

Before the 3 stores opening and the “reopening” of the first, I got my whole crew together to lay down the rules.

After going over things like how paychecks would be sent, and where shifts schedules would be posted, I dropped into the meat, so to speak of the rules.

“You are all starting careers in what is still a new field. This is not your normal sort of job, you are going to be buying and selling women. The only industry that has more government oversight than the slaving industry is the fire arms industry. This is not your normal mall job.”

“As I’m sure a lot of you know, the store managers, as well as their personal assistants, are corporate slaves. This does not effect their authority in their store. The store managers have full hire and fire authority. If you screw up, your manager can, and will, fire your ass. The fact that she is a slave is beside the point. Don’t forget that.”

“Obviously you all are going to be working around hot naked chicks. I don’t expect you to go home with blue balls, however, you may not fuck a slave while on duty, and you may never have un protected sex with a slave, unless you have paid the normal rental fee, less the employee discount. In each store, there will be at least two slaves in a suck stock at all times. We are not running a free suck shop, but I do want them used most of the time. Adult customers may use them, if they want. If a customer hasn’t face fucked at least one of the slaves in the last 15 minutes or so some body use them. Yes, your being paid to get blow jobs. It’s a rough job, but some body has to do it.”

There was general laughter about that. One of the Dutch Hall girls raised her hand. “You said a slave had to be in it, would you expand on that?”

I nodded. “Normally, that would be a for sell slave. However, if you, or any of the management slaves have violated a company rule, one of your punishments could include spend some time in the suck stock. On that note, however, I do expect sub contractors, maintenance personal and delivery men to be offered blow jobs, from the asset slaves. Each store manger will establish her own policy on who does it. Just a bit of warning, I will be sending in ‘ringers’ as delivery guys. I’ll know in short order if a store isn’t following this policy. There will be floggings afterward.”

Speaking of flogging, I want one of the for sale slaves up on the whipping post at all times. It will be up to the store manager to do establish which one, and for how long they stay up. Hour demo’s of whips and other floggers will be expected. Being a whip demo slave is also a possible punishment for asset slaves that screw up.”

For those of you that are in a mall where you are co-located with a ‘Hell’s Kitchen’ you will have at least weekly spit roasting demo’s. That’s one that you don’t have to worry about being assigned to you as a punishment, expect, of course for the quarterly reports.” There were some puzzled looks by some of the Tech school people. I went on “For those of you that don’t know, the manager of the store that does the worst per quarter, as graded by the business school at Eastlake University, gets to be the spit roast at the quarterly company picnic. While I’m on that, I’ve been told by the EU Business School people that this current quarter isn’t going to count, because it takes at least that long to hit the ground and get going.”

Once they all settled down from this, I went on. “I’ve been talking about punishments for a bit here. Let’s go on to rewards. Of course, all of you get paid by the hour, but you will also get a 10% commission on slave sales, and a $200 bonus on volunteers that you bring in. Just because, family members, defined as 1st cousins or closer, count double for bonus payments. That’s only real volunteers, PPCed girlfriends don’t get you a bonus.”

One of the EU guys raised his hand, and when I recognized him he asked “So, we are going to be doing conversion at the stores then?” I nodded “Yes, but only volunteers. PPC and family conversion will have to come here, at least for the next 6 months or so. We are still working out how the school judicial conversion are going to be handled. I can pretty safely say that most of you are going to see class mates as slaves. While I am on that, if any of you girls that didn’t choose to be asseted out want to convert to asset slavery, let me know and I’ll do your paperwork. Your pay scale will be lower than the ones that started that way, but it will still be more than your making on the floor. Just for what it’s worth, the take home of a male floor worker is about the same as an enslaved management slave. Yes, I’m saying that I don’t pay free women as much as I do free men. It’s legal, and I don’t care. Want to make the same as the guys? Sign the asset papers.”

After the meeting, I spent the next couple of weeks closing down my home office and moving into what was, until it got it’s funding cut, the Eastlake branch of the ‘Laura Donner’ center for children and abused women. The center was a set of 6 buildings, around a central courtyard. One was used for administration, mainly, but the other 5 were set up as dormitories. After adjusting for slave density, vs children and free women, I had space for well over 300 at a time. It already had a WiFi and Bluetooth system in place, of course I will not be using the badges and wrist band system they used, but my own design of slave collar. The existent CCTV and remote door locking system would work just fine.

Looking around the neighborhood, which is mixed light industrial and residential, I find that the there are a couple of metal working shops, which could be useful if I need custom bondage gear made quickly. The Eastlake bus barn is a couple of blocks north of the center, which I’m told will be important in the near future. I also find “Eastlake Beef and Provisions”, a custom butcher shop, which, as it happens, has an Alternate Meat Source license. Their shop is less than a block from the center. There is an Art Deco hotel, recently redone to modern standards, rated at three stars, just 2 blocks away, which will be good for out of town clients. All in all, if I have to move my base of operations, this is ideal.

The other thing that took up a lot of time was going over the 100+ resume that the three schools had sent me. I’m going to need 4 store mangers, 8 shift managers and between 24 and 36 floor workers. The store managers are going to be from Eastlake University’s MBA program, the shift managers will be mainly from EU’s undergraduate business school, and the floor workers from the two high schools in this program.

I had forgotten how much of a pain in the ass that dealing with educational bureaucrats is. Dutch Hall, being a private school, was fairly straight forward, in that their plan was to offer a work study program as part of their pre-business school preparatory program. The student would work 12 hours a week at one of my stores and get school credit, his or her grade being decided by my evaluation of the student. I had assumed that something like that would be what Eastlake Technical would have. Silly me. What we ended up with was close, but not quite the same as Dutch Hall had, but I had to jump through a lot more hoops than I would have liked. Things like insuring diversity, self esteem mentoring, value training, all that sort of thing. Almost made me decide not to hire any tech high students, but the fine folks at NMG wouldn’t have any of that.

The shift managers were a pretty straight forward work-study program from EU. Basically, it was a class, and they would be rotating in and out, with my evaluations only being part of their grade. Not really going to be that big of a deal, one way or the other.

The store managers, on the other hand, was what was left of the plans that EU had for starting their own slave rental network. The 4 would be female MBA students, who would sign voluntary enslavement papers, be made corporate assets slaves. At the end of each fiscal quarter, the faculty of the EU’s business school would look over the books for all 4 stores, with the identifying data removed. The worst performing store, however MBA types figure that sort of thing would be reported to me. The manager for that store would be spit roasted for the company picnic, and a replacement would be sent from the MBA program.

One odd side effect Eastlake Technical’s requirements was that I had to do actual “face to face” interviews with all their students that wanted a position. Most of those went the way you would expect for a first or second ever job interview, but a few of them stuck in my mind.

One was a male student, that when asked what his contact with slavery was replied “Well, my Dad enslaved my mother, and my twin sister as soon as he could, on our birth day in fact.” When I asked him how he felt about that he was all “it’s totally cool. It was a bit weird at first but it’s sort of cool having tits on display all the time. Dad says I can’t fuck either of them, but Samantha, that’s my twin, has to suck me off when ever I want it. She fucks my friends. Our next door neighbors did the same thing when their daughter got old enough, and they let me fuck her. Mrs. Fredericks, that the neighbors, sucks me off most afternoons. Dad and Mr. Fredericks have weekly flogging parties, which get a bit weird some times, like when they nailed the girls nipples to the picnic bench in the park before they flogged them. Or when they had them branded. They keep talking about roasting one of the girls, but I don’t think they will.” I checked his address. South side. Of course.

Another was wearing a “Free the Girls” tee shirt. I took one look at him “So, how long have you been a neo abolitionist?” He gave me blank look. and a “Huh?” “Your shirt. It’s from one of the leading new abolition movements.” “It is?” “Yeah”. I passed on him, because hiring a neo isn’t a good idea for me and if he really didn’t know what it meant, he was too clueless. Either way, not a good idea.

The first female student from Eastlake Tech that showed to interview, Joanna Mosley, was wearing a silk shirt about a half size to small and no bra. She would have worn a B cup is she was wearing one. Shoulder length blonde hair, which looked dyed, and grayish eyes. Looked like she weighed around 110 lbs or so, at 5′6″ She came straight to the point “I have to get this job. I am willing to do any thing, or any one to get it. And I do mean any thing this side of being put on a Jessica 3000 or other snuff machine. My dad says that if I don’t have a job by the end of the week he’s going to sell me to Hill’s They have already graded me, I’m grade A. I know he is serious because he did sell my sister to them when she got in a car wreck.”

“Fine. Strip and come over here and blow me. It’s been a few years sense I’ve had a blow job from a free woman, never mind from a just legal high school senior” She didn’t even wait for me to finish. She stood up, unbuttoned her shirt and came out of her skirt more or less all in one motion, kicked off her heels, and pulled down her panties as she came around the desk. She dropped straight to her knees, unzipped my pants, pulled my rapidly harding cock out and started to lick on the head of it. As it got harder she took more an more into her mouth. She couldn’t quite deep throat, but she damn sure was trying. If I was to rate her she was about a 70 on the F&S 0-100 scale

As she was sucking my cock, an idea hit me. I hit speed dial on the phone for Mr. Bad Tie (Robin Greentree, real name). He answered fairly quickly “Greentree, what do you want West?” Caller ID is a bitch some times. “I was just wondering about my staff. I’m thinking of starting a management track option for selected students. They would have the same employment status as the store managers, if you follow me. Is this going to be a problem?” Robin laughed, “No, that’s not a problem. Make sure you dot your I’s and cross your tee’s on the paperwork however…” “Teach your granny to suck eggs there Robin.”

As I hung up I started to feel my self start to cum. I did that fast “In her mouth or on her face” mental vote. Survey said on her face. I pulled out of her mouth just as the first blast left my cock, more or less going up her nose. Next blast hit her just below the eye, with the third and last going into her eye. To her credit she didn’t flinch or close her eyes. She did blink when it hit her in the eye I’ll grant. I pick up her silk shirt from off my desk where she had dropped it and tossed it to her. “Here, clean your self off. You have got the job, but I’ve got an offer to make to you.” She wiped my cum off her face with her shirt, then stood up and walked back to and sat in the chair in front of the desk. She gathered the clothing together, but didn’t put it back on. “What is the offer?”

I looked at her “It simple. You can take the normal floor staff job, or you can take a management track position. After all adjustments the management track position takes home about 3 times what the floor staff position does. The down side is you have to sign asset enslavement papers.”

She looked at me. “Asset slaves aren’t really like normal slaves are they?” “Well, yes, the are. The big difference is that they are owned by a company, not a person, and there are fairly strict rules about what a company can do to them. Basically, a company has to write up their punishment policy before hand. I can assure you that I have one, and it has some rather harsh options.” She looked at me. “Three times as much take home? Don’t you also have to include housing?” I gave her a grin. “Studied up on slavery have you?” “I’m not stupid, and you didn’t answer me” “Yes, I do, or give you enough to cover housing. Which in Eastlake isn’t all that much. Also have to do medical care, so what’s it going to be?” “When do I have to decide?” I thought about that. “By next week, I think. I’d like to know ASAP, of course, but by next Wednesday at the latest. She looked at me for a second or two, then said “That’s OK, I’ll be your company slave. Dad’s probably going to sell me even if I get a job.”

After her, I made the same offer to all the female students that both Eastlake Tech and Dutch Hall sent over. All four of the Dutch Hall girls took the offer, and 8, including Joanna, of the two dozen or so of Tech girls decided to become company slaves.

The EU students’ interviews went pretty much as expected. Given that they were students in a class, I didn’t really have that much to say to them, and I was told that unless there was obvious problems with the student I couldn’t reject them, meaning that unless I thought they were a neo-abolitionists, all I could do was give them a bad grade on their “interview”.

After all was said and down, my “Work force” was 4 asset enslaved store managers, each of which had 3 full time “management track” asset slaves assistants and a dozen or so free workers reporting to them. I had 16 “team leaders” from the EU work study program. The stores were going to be open 6 days a week, 10 hours a day. The “management asset” slaves would, of course, be working all the time, the other would be divided into 4 teams per store, with 2 teams on duty at any given time, for about 5 hours a day, with rotating shifts.

The last thing was the slaves. The limit on 4 slaves in the store at a time had gone out the window. Each store got it first shipment of 25 slaves on the grand opening.

After the first bit of the meeting, I was called into a smaller “focus group” meeting. I took my slave for the day with me to the side room for the focus group. There I found my more or less former slave Lilly, the provost of Eastlake University and three men I didn’t recognize. Under the table, each of the men had a slave on her knees, giving head. I decided that was a great idea, and pushed the slut down under the table, then told her that if she didn’t make my cum before the meeting started, I would have her flogged. She went right to work, and as soon as my cock was hard, she took it deep into her throat. I’ll give her this, she’s a well trained cock sucker. After a few minutes I felt my self starting to cum, just as a pair of men, wearing NMG ties came into the room. I finished cumming in her mouth, then pulled out and zipped up.

After they set down, and the other men had either cum or pulled out their slaves mouths, the older of the two nodded to us saying “Gentlemen, Mistress, this focus group will be dealing with slaver education and training. Mr. West and Mistress Schultz, of course, have their reality shows, based on their respective business. These shows are an important part of our education program. Mr. Tucci is the provost of Eastlake University. Matthew Marsh is the dean of technical studies at Dutch Hall prep school. Ron Malone is a vice principle at Eastlake Technical High school. Titus Conley, of course, is with the state slave board.” While I hadn’t meet Titus in person before, I had exchanged e-mail and phone calls with him. He is in charge of the state side of the licensing to be a white slaver. Basically, if he doesn’t approve you, you aren’t getting a license. This is an odd group to be together, but I’m sure this will make what passes for sense in Eastlake soon.

The man in the hideous tie turned to Titus “Mr. Conley, you have the floor”. Titus opened his brief case, pulled out a few papers, then started up. “The long and short of it is that the state of Oklahoma is going to start requiring that new slavers have at least 6 months as apprentice slavers before we issue them a license. Renewals are going to have to pass a test before their license will be renewed. While we at the state board fully support the NMG enslavement program, we don’t want any more high profile false enslavement cases. False enslavement do no one any good.”

Mr. Bad Tie, who still hasn’t given us his name, spoke up that this point. “And this is why all of us are together today. What we at NMG would like to see happen is a cooperation between the public sector and the education community, be it public schools, private schools or higher education. What we see is a mix of work study programs and internships with small to medium sized white slavery companies. The details of our proposal is that through our financing arm, NMG will give a low interest loan to your companies to expand your retail point of presence in this market, with the understanding that the majority of your new staff will be studies from these three schools various programs. The mid level management will come from the business school of Eastlake University, and the floor staff will be students from either Eastlake Tech or Dutch Hall.”

OK, Well, OK. Not sure what to say here. Lilly spoke up “And how large of an expansion are we talking here?” Mr. Bad Tie took a look at his notes and said “In your case, an expansion of your current mid-town location, conversion of your cleaning service to 100% slave labor, and opening 3 locations in former “Stop-n-Get” stores.” Lilly looked at Mr. Tie “That’s a rather large expansion for as new a company as mine. What if I don’t want to expand that much that fast?” Titus spoke up “Then there will be a complete formal investigation into your own legal status, the legal status of your LLC, and, of course, a full tax audit of your company and all it’s clients for the last 3 years. We are not playing games here.” Lilly noticeably shrank back at this. Mr. Bad Tie spoke up “That is the case, we are not playing games any more. Mr. West, our plan for Spellbook Slave and Games is that you expand your mall retails stores to all the mall in the Eastlake Metro area, plus move your main office to what was the Eastlake Women’s shelter. Your stick, if we need one, is that your current home office is in fact in violation of the Eastlake zoning ordnance. While this is going to get you sent to prison, it is enough to put you out of business. Both of you have made quite a lot of money off of National Media Group. We’d like you to make more, but if you don’t want to play our way, well, you can just stop playing.”

I sat back. I knew that they even called them selves “The Most Evil Company in America”, but it hadn’t sunk in what exactly that meant. On the other hand, doing what they wanted wasn’t really all that big of a deal any way. I shrugged “What can I say, where do I sign?”

I come home, after a night collecting “volunteers” from various bars and clubs down town, and find the voice mail light blinking on my phone. I hit the speed dial into voice mail, then check my e-mail, finding 3 high priority messages, above and beyond the normal stuff I get. Listing to the voice mail and reading the “urgent” e-mail, I find that no less than 4 people want to have a meeting with me at the Eastlake Country Club in the morning. Odd, and given that I’m not even a member of the club, more than a bit strange.

Next morning, I need to see about selling as many of the volunteers I collected last night as possible. After an hour on the phone I had sold 4 of the 6, all but one of them went to the new slave’s boyfriend, however the 4th met a body type request that Hill’s Fine Meat had, so she went to them. After that was done, I secured the office and headed to this meeting. When I get to the country club, I find that the main gates are shut, and they are checking names against a list. I’m on the list, so they let me in. I’m directed to go to the main club house, and to use the valet parking. At the parking station, I find a group of valets and a group of naked slaves. I get out and give the guy my keys, while the head valet snaps his fingers and assigns to me a slave. “She is yours for the day Mister West. She will lead you to the meeting. When you are through with her, please return her the main bar, or tell us where her body is, if you decide to snuff her.” OK then, this is going to be fun…

She lead me into the larger meeting room in the club house. Once in the room, she took me to at table, which had a 10-12 men and 6 women sitting at it. I recognized about half of the men and all the women as being slavers. Given the number of active slavers in Eastlake, this must be most, if not all of them. Looking around the room, I saw, on one table, several of the head bouncers or managers of the clubs that I collected “volunteers” from, more or less nightly. At another table I saw the provost of Eastlake University and the dean of Dutch Hall. There was about a dozen or so men at that table. There was a table of guys in police or sheriffs department uniforms, as well as private security firms. I noticed that other than the 6 slavers at my table, all the women in the room were naked slaves.

After a few minutes, some one, wearing one of those hideous “National Media Group” ties walked up to the podium. He turned on the microphone, adjusted it a bit, the started “Gentlemen…” then with a nod to my table “And Mistresses… I have called you all here to discuss and explain the NMG’s vision for not only Eastlake, but in time, the whole country, if not the whole of Western Civilization.”

You know in the movies when some one makes a statement like that, the crowd makes sort of a surprised murmuring noise. That happened in this room. After a few seconds he went on. “That is, to put it simply, the enslavement of the majority of the women of the world.”

If there was a “murmur” after his first statement, there was an explosion after that one. Given who was in the room, it was a more or less positive one, I’ll grant. Once it quited down a bit he went on “7 years ago, a study was done on the changes to the human genome caused by the great flu pandemic of 1918. The evidence is quite clear, that with in 50 years, the male/female ratio will drop to 1:2, and with in 100 years to 1:4. The evidence is that is where it will stabilize at. That’s the obvious effect. The hidden side effect is that due to the changes in hormone levels, most, as in well over 70% of women will be increasingly passive. This is already starting to have an effect on the body politic. Women, free women, simple aren’t bothering to vote. In the last election there were one third fewer female voters than male voters. Given that the female population is roughly 20% larger than the male population, this is significant, even after allowing for the enslavement of 15% of them. There does seem to be about 20% of females that aren’t being effected by the hormonal change, and about 10% that seem to be almost male like in their aggression, but in general, we are looking at this:
With in a hundred years, aggressive heterosexual males will be about 14% of the population, homosexual males will be 6% of the population, 8% will be aggressive females and 16% will what you would call normal females by 20th century standards. That leaves 56% of the population as sheep. That’s roughly 2 and half sheep per wolf. If you include the normal women in that it’s about 3 and quarter. We at NMG like to think of our selves as wolves, and we want to stay in power. We want to insure that the cultural norm for the next century is that if it is assumed that a female that isn’t in, shall we say, an aggressive career path, or in a long term relationship, should be enslaved. We are going to bring all of our resources to bear on this project. That’s where you people come in.” He gestured toward the school people “School administers, both Collage and secondary school level, will see those women that aren’t on, shall we say, success vectors, in either a career path, or in establishing relationships. You can see the girls that are just sort of floating along. You need to do every thing you can to ensure that they end up with a collar. as soon a possible.” He then gestured toward bar guys. “The club and venue people will see those that the school people miss. The weak will show them self selves to you. With several of our programs, you will get a large number of them in the collar they need, with the assistance of the security folk and, of course, the licenses slavers in your community. We are going to be breaking up into smaller working groups to discuss specific plans, so, please, stick around.”

I’m looking over my books, or the reports that Lilly has made, to be accurate. Seems like we are going along just fine, in fact doing better than fine. Lilly comes into the office with a sheet of paper in her hand. “Remember those spit muffin wannabees that came in last week to be graded?

“I do. As I recall Josh talked two into a conditional conversion, based on some one wanted their exact body type. Let me guess, you have a buyer for them.”

“Well, of course. Had that the day they signed up. They both ride the spit come the 10th of next month, but that’s not what I have here. it seems that Dutch Hall Girls School wants to have us grade their whole senior class, plus do a sex skill test on them. And they want us to come up with a firm bid price for each one of them, which they will send to their parents or legal guardians.”

I looked up at her. “Dutch Hall? Why in the hell would a school that cost $20,000 a year want to do that? How many are we talking here?”

Lilly looked at her notes “Looks like 26. I quoted them a price of 400 each for the tests. They didn’t blink, We are set for next week, if that’s OK with you.”

“Works for me. That’s what, a hair over 9000 for an afternoons work? Yeah, I think we can do that.”

She looked at her notes, “Well, it a hair under 9000, unless we sell at least one of them to Hill’s within 24 hours of the grading. Hill is charging 25 for a grading now, and S&F charges 36 each, if you are doing more than 10.”

Time for me to be confused again. “If it’s only 60 or so to have them tested, why didn’t the school just call Hill’s and S&F?”

Lilly picked up a state slave board mailing off the in box pile and handed it to me. “You really should read your mail more often.” I took it from her, and noticed that it was 1) only two days old and 2) still sealed. “OK, how do you know what’s in this?”

Lilly looks down at her feet, then looks up at me. “Well, there is a lot about “Lilly’s Book Balancing” you don’t know.”

I point to a chair. “Sit. Talk. Now.”

She sat. “I told you that my company had sold a few slaves as part of estate sales You assumed, and I didn’t correct you, that the company in question was what is now ‘Jones, Schultz and Freeman Inc.’. It wasn’t. It was ‘Lilly Book Balancing, LLC’ I’ve had a slavers license almost as long as you have. I get all the mailings. After I was enslaved, I called the girl that acted as my part time ‘office manager’ and told her to start working full time, and to email me the work she can’t do. I do most of it each night on. Around the first of the year, I hired an other person to work, just to take SINO and family conversions. We don’t touch PPC or anything other than family conversions that return ownership to the requesters. Any other type of conversion gets sent to you. Hell, there have been some I’ve handle in both companies.”

She signed. “I almost wish I hadn’t given up smoking now. I could use something.” I stood up and went to the liquor cabinet. “Would a Gin and Tonic work?” She looked surprised “Yeah, it would.” I mixed the drinks, then intercoms Ingrid. “Ingrid, please put the phones on forward to voice mail and close up the shop. Take the afternoon off. If you want to go to the country club or what ever, go for it. I’ll set your collar for 24 hours and 50 miles. Try not have your head blown off, but be back in the morning. Take 200 out of petty cash.”

I fired up my instant messenger program and pinged Wendy. Once she replied, I asked her if it would be possible to have ‘technical issues’ with the camera in my office, or did I need to really pull the plug on it, because my office was going to be off the air for some time, one way or the other. She told me to wait 5 minutes, then to check it. If it was still live, pull the net connection for it on the router.

I turned to Lilly and said “Wait about 5 minutes, then we will finish this conversation, however do tell what was in the mailing.”

She looked blank for a second. I tapped the still unopened mail from the state board. She shook her head, “Oh, yeah, some major changes in the state regulations. The one that directly impacts us in this school case is that both sex test and meat grading can only be done under the supervision of a licensed slaver and only by some one licensed in the test in question. Seems that some guys had started claiming that they were doing “sex tests” and after 3 sex acts enslaving the woman they were ‘testing’. One of the neoabolitionists groups got them to pass a rule about that so the women being tested knows that she might be enslaved. This was the compromise bill, The original one would have outlawed sex test on free women. The meat grading was tossed in as a semi-after thought.” She sort of snorted. “Figures. The abolitionists try and stop an enslavement trap and end up creating a revenue stream for slavers. You ought to send them a thank you letter. The other thing mentioned was that enslaving authorities will need to change their sales system, to regularize prices. I suspect that is going to be a big deal in the near future”

I checked the web cam. The office camera was displaying a “Out of order” graphic.

“OK, were off the tape now, more or less. Let me start with I watched you thing with Rita last night, which, buy the way, was hot. However that made me think why you, not Ingrid was doing the punishing. So, I ran the files back looking for you and Ingrid together, and low and behold, I find you telling Ingrid I told you to torture Rita, when you and I know I did no such thing. So, this afternoon, I was thinking about you and what you have done for me. Your too damn smart to really be a slave. I’m surprised you haven’t found the over ride codes for the collars yet. And then I find you have an income stream on the out side, one that seems rather profitable at that. I’ve been wanting to do something about you for a while, but now I’m going to give you a choice, you choose one of three options

First, you can volunteer to ride the spit with those meat sticks you tricked into volunteering.
Second, You can let Rita have control of you like you had control of her, but for a full week, not just a night or
Third, you can assign me 51% of your LLC. What’s it going to be? You have 15 seconds.”

She barley blinked, “You can have the stock.”

I thought she would choose that. What she didn’t know is that I did know something about her little business and had drawn up a contract awhile ago. She must have forgotten that she sort of tipped her hand when she bought and sold Jezebel. I slid the papers over to her. She picked them up and started reading. The first was a transfer of assets from Spellbook Slave and Games, Inc. to Lilly’s Book Balancing LLC, which was conditional on a stock transfer from her LLC to my company. Her eyes widened when she realized that the asset in question was her. She frowned a bit when she read the bit that specified that the assets could not be transfered again, or freed for at least 5 year. She waited a second, Then she signed the first paper. She then started reading the second one. Once she hit the important part, she stopped and set the papers down. “This is for non-voting stock.”

I smiled at her. “That’s right, I just get the money, but don’t have any thing to say about the running of the company. However, if you read the next part there, for 5 million dollars, I can convert the non-voting stock to voting stock.”

She looked up at me. But you just transfered me to this other company. Which I own the controlling stock in. This is for non-voting stock.”

I smiled at her. “That’s right, I just get the money, but don’t have any thing to say about the running of the company. However, if you read the next part there, for 5 million dollars, I can convert the non-voting stock to voting stock.”

She looked up at me. “But you just transfered me to my company. And your not taking control of it. And I know you don’t have 5 mil in disposable assets.”

I tapped the paper. “One, your starting to blither, and two, if you don’t sign the stock transfer, the asset transfer doesn’t take place.”

She set the paper down and signed, then kicked back. I motioned to her “Come here please, unless you want to keep that collar on.” She all but jumped to me. I punched in the code to remove her collar. “Well, your not exactly free, but you as close as your going to get for a while. But if you really piss me off I can always take control of your company, granted paying 5 million for one slave is a bit harsh.”