For Want of a Nail

Magda nodded.

"Well, let's get a move on." She fell in, to his right, the lad to the right of her as they strode forward, the father slapped Magda smartly on the ass causing her to gasp and him to laugh.

Magda's already low mood fell even further.

"She's really pretty, Pa." the lad's first words.

"Indeed, she is, Junior."

"Will I really get to see her naked?"

"In due time, son, in due time."

Magda felt clammy all over. The feeling clung even more closely as they crossed the parking lot. There was a guard tower above and guards on patrol outside, all armed. For a moment, Magda wondered if it was worth the risk to try and scale the fence and escape. She doubted that SREA truly wanted the guards to ventilate attempted escapees. Perhaps the guns were just for show. She took a deep breath and slowed her pace. She felt a sudden constriction in her throat as her breath was cut off.

"Don't even think about it, gal!" he thundered. "Until you are off company grounds, I get my money back if they have to waste you. It would be a real shame, pretty lady."

Magda looked at the brutish man, his enigmatic son, and the perimeter fence. In the end, she feared the pain and she did want to see her husband and son again. She sighed took a deep breath and held it.

His car was a large premium luxury van. It still had that new car smell. She was led to the passenger seat where the father buckled her in. The son settled in the seat behind her. The father slid into the driver's seat, and they pulled out onto the highway.

"Her hair smells pretty, Pa!"

"I'm sure it does, Junior, I'm sure it does. There are parts of her I can't wait to smell myself."

"What parts, Pa?"

"In due time, son. We have Magda here for a long time."

His hand came to rest on her bare thigh.

"A long time."

"Magda felt the years closing in on her. Ten years! With this pair! The universe hates me!

"Remember, Junior you have to treat this lady right and she'll be more than happy to make a man of you."

He elbowed Magda in the left boob and said,

"Ain't that right, gal?"

Panicked, Magda was at last able to nod.

Carter continued obliviously,

"You'll love my new house. It's got every convenience except a woman!"

He laughed uproariously at what he considered a joke. Magda wondered if it was possible to will herself invisible, like Sue Storm of the Fantastic Four. To her consternation, she remained completely visible.

They drove along the highway for hours. At one point, they pulled into a minimart/gas station. Carter fueled the car before pulling off to a parking space near the entrance. He took a leash from the glove box.

"The law requires that you be leashed in public. Of course, here, I'd leash you anyway, so you didn't try to run off."

They were on the hot paving of the convenience store.

"Junior, order what you like for yourself, a roast beef sandwich and coffee for me and," he looked at Magda, "What 'ill you have, darlin'?"

After a moment of stunned silence, she answered,

"Chicken salad sandwich and lemon seltzer if they have it."

"Right!"

The lad forged ahead.

"He's a good boy, needs maturing more than anything," stated the father.

The mart fell pin drop silent the moment Magda and Carter entered the store. The beautiful redhead felt more exposed in her scanty slave-issued garments than if she had been naked. The slaved duds were designed to maximize humiliation by forcing every wearer to put on an unwanted salacious display. Nudity was a simple fact. This slut wear was not. He led her to the men's room and an open stall.

"Don't take too long in there!" he barked as the door shut between them. Magda held her breath until her bladder released. At least Carter had given her a hint of modesty. She was dreading the end of this trip tremendously. Where were those sudden killing heart attacks when you needed them? She mused. Magda took as long as she could before standing and wiping herself, only doing so when Carter pounded on the stall door.

She opened the door with trembling hands. He filled the opening.

"Kiss me," he ordered.

So, it begins she thought, he can't even wait to get me home, it starts here in a dingy men's room off the interstate.

She leaned her head upwards. His huge arms were around her in a disgusting bear hug. His kiss was hot and sloppy. He Frenched her and Magda fought of nausea.

"Those lips taste good!" Carter gushed, "I'll bet the other ones do as well." His eyes focused on her crotch. Magda flushed all over as Carter tossed his head back and laughed uproariously.

"Yeah, we'll get along fine."

He led her out of the men's room. Junior waved at his father.

"I got everything, Pa."

"Terrific, son." Carter's eyes took in a table and an umbrella outside the minimart.

"You should sit in the shade, gal. I don't want that expensive skin I paid for to burn."

Magda took the shaded seat, opposite father and son. He retained one hand on her leash. At least the sandwich was tasty. They mostly ate in silence. Magda gazed past her "owner" at the people as they entered and exited the minimart. She would change places with any of them if she could. She had no illusions about what awaited her at the end of the drive. Just looking at Carter turned her stomach. To be his unwilling plaything for a decade! Magda had a vision of herself, a decade older, hunting down the surviving terrorists who had caused her to be in this situation, seducing them, and as they moved to embrace her, Magda would gleefully slit their throats with a concealed razor blade! The vision, while brief was quite cathartic. Despite everything, she was hungry, and the sandwich was rather good. She practically wolfed it down. The seltzer was cool and refreshing. She wiped her hands and lips with a napkin while father and son watched her every move. They were back in the SUV. They drove across state lines towards a city that Magda had visited as a tourist. In an area neither country nor suburb, they pulled to a stop in the garage of an impressive near-mansion in a very tony neighborhood. From the garage, they were in a rather spartanly furnished den.

As if reading her mind Carter said, "Most of the furniture will be delivered next week. I already have the important stuff, dressers, beds, tables, chairs." Magda noted the subtle emphasis on the word "bed" in the unappealing man's list. Her flesh which had been crawling from the moment she first laid eyes on him sped to overdrive in its rebellion.

"Junior, why don't you keep yourself occupied? The slave and I need to talk."

He led her to a quiet study on the second floor. This room was not only furnished but also had pictures lining the walls. Most of them were of Carter through the years with his son. An ordinary-looking blonde woman appeared in the pictures for the first few years of the lad's life before abruptly disappearing. Cater set her down at a desk and placed coffee and creamer before her. He settled himself in the opposite seat.

"Let me explain how things will work, gal."

She met his gaze.

"I've always done well, but earlier this year I was the sole winner of an exceptionally large lottery prize. I've been able to both retire and move up in the world. Pricier zip code, nicer car," he gestured at his wrist, "an even more expensive Rolex. I bought you because I don't want gold diggers bothering me. Junior's mother was a gold digger even though she really wasn't all that much to look at. Unlike you." His eyes toured her body. "Do right by me, and I'll do right by you, gal. I want obedience and enthusiasm between the sheets and a willingness to do all I ask sexually. I don't expect you to love me, I do however expect you to not flinch from my touch and to look me in the eye, especially when I am fucking you. Which I intend to do A LOT! The boy will be eighteen in three months, you are going to pop his cherry."

He looked at Magda, daring her to react He slid a tablet and pen across the table.

"Write down all your clothing sizes. I'll buy nice things for you. I can't have you naked in front of the kid or others without my knowledge. I own every glorious inch of you, and I decide how and when it gets to be shown off. Is all that clear?"

Magda nodded and hastily wrote down all her clothing sizes. She looked at him imploringly.

"Get it off your chest, gal."

After hemming and hawing Magda said, "I'll do the best I can, Mr. Carter. Please keep in mind that until a few days ago, I was just a simple housewife who did the books for my husband's business. I'm still in a state of shock."

He placed his hand atop her wrist.

"Like they told me in the navy when some of the guys complained the water was cold, 'The best thing is just to plunge in." Can you cook?"

Magda nodded.

"Good, I expect you to do most of the cooking. I hired a maid service for cleaning twice a week, so you won't have to do more than an occasional straightening up. I'm also going to hire a personal trainer for you so that you stay in top shape in my personal gym. I'd work out to try and lose this spare tire but with my money what's the point? Is a few extra years worth missing eating what I like when I like? Fuck that! That billionaire got Anna Nicole Smith and he looked like the crypt keeper!" He laughed and said,

"I'll try to be understanding, gal but I want no moodiness and no slipping away mentally. I want you here and now while I bone you. Speaking of which."

He stood, pulled her upright and they strode through a door in the office to a fully furnished bedroom. The door closed and locked behind them.

"It's high time I saw you naked."

Magda took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She stepped out of the rubber clogs. She undid the micro-mini skirt and it slid to the floor. With a prayer for deliverance from an impersonal universe, she tugged the translucent blue top up and over her head revealing her fine breasts. She stood a long moment before she shimmed out of the star-spangled thong to be completely bare before him.

"Hot damn! On your knees, you know what I want."

From the floor, Carter's gut hid most of his face from view. Magda decided that was a good thing. If she could compartmentalize his cock and various other body parts servicing him might not be as soul-crushing. She undid his pants. William Carter was surprisingly well endowed, much bigger than her husband. Magda took a tentative lick. At least her nightmare bathed regularly. Slowly, she took all of him in. Her head slid back and forth while her hands fondled his balls. He ran his fingers through her hair and began purring like a puma. His endurance was not impressive in any way. Just as Magda had established a rhythm, he grasped her head and ejaculated all over the back of Magda's throat. She gasped and choked it down.

"Not bad, gal. Let's get in bed and cuddle. Once I've planted some seed in you, you can shower and make dinner. I have all the fixings for chili in the fridge and on the counter. I have a robe you can wear. I don't want the kid spying your goodies until his birthday, understand?"

Magda nodded. He took the rest of his clothes off. His white inflated belly reminded Magda of a grub turned over while digging in the garden. She was in his beefy arms accepting his kisses. She tried closing her eyes and thinking of Joe. That gave her instant regret, so she instead imagined that William Carter was a particular actor that Magda fancied. He wasn't classically handsome, yet he exuded sex appeal. Trying to make Carter a Brad Pitt or George Clooney was a non-starter across the board, but a somewhat geeky guy with magnetism? If she imagined really, really, hard....

He rose and plunged his manhood inside her. She successfully fought off her desire to retch. She remembered his imprecation. She opened her eyes. His brown orbs sparkled. "Yeah, baby, look at me when I plow you. The more appreciative you are the less I'll have to use discipline."

Magda began vocalizing, careful to not overdo it. Whatever else his faults, William Carter was not an idiot.

"Yeah babe, that's the spirit!"

She willed herself to relax. Hopefully, this first sexual encounter would be their worst. He continued to pound away. To Magda's surprise, his efforts were having an effect. She wasn't close to orgasm, but it wasn't bad. She let out a sharp sigh when she felt him empty himself deep in her womb.

"Oh, we are going to get along great, gal!" he said enthusiastically. He then loudly farted, giggled, and pointed over her shoulder. "The bathroom is through that door. I'm gonna lie here for a while." And, just like that, Magda was dismissed.

In the shower, she found some expensive bodywash and hair products. Either Carter bought them in anticipation of the arrival of her or someone like her, or they were left behind by some woman who was fortunate enough to escape William Carter. The shower made her feel somewhat normal again. There was a huge fluffy towel to wrap herself in. She sat on the commode and combed out her hair with a brush she found. She let her mind run while she brushed. She tried to stay optimistic. She remembered a quote from Robert Oppenheimer, "The optimist thinks this is the best of all possible worlds. The pessimist fears it is true." Whichever way she looked at it, Magda had to hope for the best. On a peg behind a door, she found a pink silk robe with a tacky pair of huge red lips on the back in mid-pucker just above the bum. Magda rolled her eyes and slid the robe on. Fortunately, it concealed all of her. From the doorway to the bedroom, she heard Carter snoring. She decided to explore the house. "What's he going to do, take away my freedom?" she stated out loud.

The house was quite expansive and well-constructed. All the doors were locked via a keypad by the molding. Magda could not hope to guess the combination. If she could escape the house, where would she go? If she made it back home to Joe, the cops would be sure to find her and bring her back to Carter for probably a most unpleasant discipline/retribution. Perhaps would encounter some brave soul who would be willing to hide her for a decade. But how would that be different from her current situation? Out the back windows, she spied a tended garden and a huge swimming pool. Out the front, a pristine lawn and a surrounding iron fence. At least this house promised sunlight and a pool as compared to perhaps a decade of never seeing daylight. It took a great deal of money to buy and maintain a home like this. Magda wondered just how wealthy William Carter was and how much she had been purchased for. From behind a door at the end of a long hallway came the unmistakable sound of Sonic the Hedgehog video game music. She had found Junior's room. She eventually would sleep with both father and son There wasn't enough ick in the world for Magda to describe that realization.

There were plenty of sharp knives in the kitchen, but Magda knew that she could not kill herself. The sight of her own blood made her lightheaded. She could deal with her son's skinned knees more easily than her own. Neither could she kill Carter or anyone else to escape her situation. She suspected that Mr. Carter had a handgun or long gun. He certainly seemed the type to own one. He also seemed to be the type of gun owner who locked up their weapons and most assuredly didn't leave them lying around loaded. The thought of shooting herself was worse than the thought of stabbing herself. Her mother, who worked as a medical records secretary for a brief time, told Magda the story that made her quit. A young, depressed man had tried to end his life via shotgun. His aim was a bit off or something and he ended up blowing away his lower jaw. Miraculously the young man survived but now, he could not talk and took his food via a tube in his throat where his mouth used to be. Since he frightened people when out in public, especially children, he had become a recluse, seeing only the medical workers who came regularly to keep him alive. The irony was that now the boy wanted nothing more than to live. He had discovered a talent for writing during his convalescence and had subsequently been published in several magazines. He had also become an advocate for suicide prevention, revealing, online, his true appearance and circumstances. His presentations never failed to elicit tears from his audience, and he had, in fact, saved dozens of lives of depressed and suicidal-leaning teens and young adults. Magda had a fear that her unfamiliarity with how to handle guns would result in her following in the footsteps of that young man in the worst way possible.

She found a recent People magazine in the house. She picked it up, returned to Carter's bedroom sat on a chair by his bedside, and read while she waited for him to wake up. Her happiness was, after all, now tied to his for the next decade.

She was caught up in an article when she heard,

"Good morning, gorgeous."

She looked at him and replied, "Good morning to you, sir."

"I'll order some clothes for you after dinner. In the meantime, come here."

She settled herself next to him on the bed.

He kissed her. She blanched.

"I know I am not most women's dream of a man. I'm not a matinee idol in the looks department and my body is not that of Adonis. I'm sure you hated fucking me just now."

Magda tried not to react in any way whatsoever, so as not to confirm his words and anger him.

"You hide it well, Red. I've heard every excuse in the world from women, some almost as beautiful as you. The point is that I will do right by you. I don't expect you to be happy at first. I would hate being a slave too. But if you go into this with an open mind, you will see that despite my gruff exterior, I'm a decent guy. If you give me half a chance, in time you won't find yourself faking it as much. I can provide for you as few other men. In exchange for that, I want you happy -- even if you don't feel it. If you need to cry and sob. I will find a quiet room with plenty of Kleenex for you to do so. I expect you to keep in A-one physical shape, cook dinners for me and the boy, and treat both of us with respect. A good, happy, obedient slave gets to go on tropical vacations all around the world and can earn impressive jewelry that she can take with her when her sojourn in the collar ends. A bad, grumpy, disobedient slave, never leaves this house and ends up clothed mostly in rags and has a full appreciation of the word "discipline."

He leaned towards her.

"Am I making myself clear?"

Magda nodded and said, "Yes, sir!"

"Good. I could tell by your catalog photos that you were more than a pretty face. Those lovely eyes of yours reveal a brain as well. I like smart but not too smart women."

Magda nodded.

"Do you think you can handle all that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Now lose the robe, I want to contemplate the skin I own."

He took her again a short time later. It was bad but not quite as bad as the first time. Magda wondered how far into her decade ahead of slavery she would find herself actually enjoying sex with the cretinous Carter, "Nine years, eleven months, and three weeks, six days." She mouthed silently. As their lovemaking progressed, Magda realized that Carter was a well-practiced lover who was attempting to see to her needs as well; not because he felt any affinity for her, but because that was how he always made love. The newly enslaved woman almost wished that Carter was a selfish, single-minded lover. It would be far easier to shut him out of her soul. Over the coming months, she wished fervently that Carter was more of a monster between the sheets instead of an often accomplished lover trapped in an unappealing body.

**

He laid out her clothes each morning. His selections tended to be short skirts, nylons and garters, lacy brassieres, and tight tops unbuttoned enough to reveal an eyeful of bosom. Heels of course, except when he required her to workout. Her exercise attire was either traditional but skimpy or he had her dress in superheroine outfits. She lifted weights or performed spinning as Supergirl, Wonder Woman, the Black Widow, Power Girl, and a dozen others. Magda quickly learned that comic book fashions were most impractical to real-world needs. She joked with her personal trainer, Valerie, a middle-aged woman in fantastic shape, that "Wonder Woman would have so many fashion emergencies from her boobs spilling out all the time that she would get fuck all done!" The trainer laughed and replied, "This is a surprise? Almost all the great comic book artists and creators were horny men who were barely out of their teens! Imagine what Superman's costume would look like if it had been designed by a sixteen-year-old girl with a K-pop band fetish!"