Chords That Bind Ch. 00: Prelude

Thank you for taking time to read my first submission to Literotica! Please be advised that I had trouble filing this story, because it falls somewhere between non/con and BDSM... I felt the themes were more of a BDSM nature than non/con in the long run... but you'll have to wait a bit to get there. In any case, this is a prelude piece without much action. There is more to come soon though. Thanks again!

-Poeticlicense

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Gerald Lace's face was illuminated by the glow of several computer monitors. His darkly brown eyes were scanning a list of potential buyers. Gerry was ready to begin a new investment, eager to take on a challenge; something that took a little more creativity than went into arranging auctions, and inventorying goods. Everything was moving towards artisanal these days. Why shouldn't he follow that trend? As a trans-Atlantic solicitor in a questionably legal underground market, Gerald had seen lots of attempts at the one-size-fits-all approach. He made quite a lot of money in that game. Wealthy men interested in his goods were usually appeased by the generic tactic of finding responsive, sexually open, beautiful women to warm their beds. But there were always the buyers whose specific tastes demanded more than a sexual partner. And when men were being that detailed, they were usually willing to pay more for something that met their exact standards.

This train of thought lead Gerald to browse through files that had long been pushed aside, in favor of quicker, easier transactions. He knew the profile he was looking for; James M. Ashton had long ago written a request for what could be called a 'custom order'. It had been a peculiar description that had struck him as funny, but not worth the effort. Gerald had never bothered with personality screening in his line of business. After being certain women were healthy and physically appealing, he saw no need to delve further. But perhaps there was a niche in the market: custom slave training.

After searching his hard drive, Gerry found Mr. Ashton's email and profile dated some two years before.

Dear Mr. Lace,

I found myself reluctantly intrigued in your catalogue of women. Truly, there are some stunningly attractive women in your care. I am however, not appeased by mere appearances. I wonder if you could alert me should you find a young lady, fitting the following descriptions:

Petite

Brunette

Speaks fluent English

Possesses keen intellect

Has great knowledge of art, music, wine

Eager to learn

Naturally submissive

Responsive to a traditional lifestyle with a Dominant male

Interested in the finer things in life

Comfortable in her sexuality

I should be most obliged and willing to negotiate in the event that such a girl could be found. Thank you for your time,

Sir James M. Ashton Q.C.

Gerald had decided that Ashton might have been better off filling out an online dating profile, than trying to place an order for a non-existent slave, but now the possibilities were starting to become alluring.

It would take extra planning, but Gerry was sure that there had to be a way to zero in on a girl who had the right personal and physical makeup to fit the obsessively particular demands of James M. Ashton Q.C.

The first few demands were easy, and had Ashton stopped there, it would have been a simple sale. But his interest in the mental landscape of his potential slave was harder to discern. Gerald scanned his database of registered submissives seeking placement. The majority of profiles were concerned only with likes and dislikes of a sexual nature. Limits, fetishes, physical demands all were listed with surprising detail. There was not much to go on here. They were all well aware of their proclivities, but willingly placed themselves in Gerald's hands because they wanted something more 'real'. They didn't require training. They came into Gerry's hands of their own will, already having been trained by previous tops, and requiring nothing more than to be told what to do.

He then turned to his more questionable information categorized as 'The unawares'. These were all potential slaves who had no idea that they were naturally inclined to submit to control and contained power. Usually some serious coaxing of a questionably legal nature was required to convince those 'unawares' that they were meant to lead very different lives than the ones they had been living. After successfully gaining custody of these girls, they were trained for a brief period of time to embrace their submissive tendencies and were auctioned off to the highest bidder as high quality sex slaves. Profiles in these categories had vague traits listed that indicated some sort of slave-like behavior or submissive tendencies. When enough circumstantial evidence was gathered, Gerry would strike. They were completely untrained; raw clay that was ready to be molded. These sales were, up until now, the most lucrative part of Gerry's business. He needed to only find the right 'unaware', and tailor her training to James' unique specifications.

It took longer than he thought to find a match. Or, as close as he thought he could get. Part of his plan was to further the candidate's training to align her responses and tastes to those of Mr. Ashton. It was going to require a flight across the pond, but Gerry was ready to exercise some creativity and test his ability as a trainer.

Cecilia lived in Philadelphia. It wasn't perhaps beautiful, but it was a bustling metropolis of sorts that was certainly not confused with the insulated bubble that was the suburbs. She liked it well enough. Cost of living was LOW. And she didn't have to feel so alone when there were people packed into every nook and cranny of the city.

Cecilia clutched another guilty pleasure book (British fantasy fiction) as she took her seat on the train at 11:54 p.m. She was getting the late train home from her restaurant job, and allowed the comfort of her nightly routine to take her home. She often felt the need to be on high alert that late at night, but exhaustion was setting in, and Cecilia didn't pay attention. A figure in a trench coat followed her off the platform. She turned a corner to walk to the lonely bus stop, and suddenly remembered nothing more. Gerald quickly scooped up Cecilia's prone body. The chloroform had done its job effectively; she was out cold. Her documents had already been collected while she finished her shift at the restaurant, measurements taken, and logistics settled. Gerry and Cecilia were met by a driver in black CLS 550, and taken to the landing strip where the private jet was waiting.

Once safely in the air, Gerry administered a tranquilizer, and inspected his latest acquisition. She met the first few of James' criteria perfectly. Her body was petite. She was barely 5 feet tall, curvy in all the right places, and spoke English. (Although probably not the Queen's English, she was after all, a Yankee.)

It was the next few demands that were the true variables. Cross references of her various online accounts revealed that she had started a degree in Literature or Philosophy (he wasn't certain which), someone else had tagged her performing at a karaoke bar (that was musically inclined by his book), had made some intelligent (if not inflammatory) comments in social media, interacted with older more sophisticated personalities on blogs, and didn't bungle her spelling or grammar all that much (which seemed to meet the 4th, 5th, and 6th details that James had enumerated). The last few items on the list were yet to be determined, and then shaped accordingly. He knew from the past that it would be easier to mold her first impressions of her new life, than it would be to correct someone else's training. Since Cecilia was to be a custom job, he wanted a blank slate. He had been less specific in collecting information on her level of submissiveness. She had been enrolled in Catholic schools her whole life; usually a giant red flag, and had expressed dismay over specimens of the male species that were weak-willed, spineless, and less than chivalrous. She didn't seem to be promiscuous and in fact, finding information about her relationships had proven impossible. Cecilia had been quite careful about guarding her privacy, or so she thought. A recently opened online dating account revealed the traits she was looking for in a partner. Beyond strong and handsome (yawn) she outlined: self assured, old-fashioned, charming, and intelligent. These qualities could certainly be attributed to Mr. Ashton.

The rest of Ashton's requests would be trained to Cecilia. It wouldn't be unlike his previous deals. Gerry just already knew who would be on the purchasing end.

Eight hours and some jet lag later, Gerald had Cecilia safely tucked into the backseat of a Land Rover, sufficiently tranquilized, and was driving back to the compound he kept, just outside of London. Once inside, he deposited Cecilia into a padded guestroom of sorts, cut her clothes off her body, tethered both wrists tightly to a bed, and went to sleep while he waited for the effects of the tranquilizer to wear off. He asked not to be disturbed until he awoke. He needed his energy to begin the next phase of this new business venture.