I, Slave

Before the job, I had asked Leo why. The Europeans didn't hassle us much and I didn't like the idea of targeting a mere accountant. "Men who trade in women as property will always see our operation in the Caribbean and think they can do it better and more profitably with unpaid help," he explained. "I don't agree. Nor do I appreciate their business model. I have a daughter myself, you know. It's best to nip these things in the bud before they have a reason to suspect us. We'll let them slaughter each other and we won't get our hands dirty."

"Yes, we won't get our hands dirty," I giggled to myself as I wiped my finger clean on a paper towel. I flushed the towel down the toilet before hooking the hard drive up to my phone. I dialed Leo.

"Hello sweetness," he said.

"Hello Master."

"Do you have good news for me?"

"I do. I'm ready to start transmitting."

"That's my girl."

"Thank you Master."

19. The End

I stepped off the plane onto American soil for the first time in more than a year. The air was warm in New Jersey that August day. A limo was already waiting for me. Leo came down the steps after me.

"I'll miss you, my dear," he said. He took my tiny hand in his giant one and kissed it. As usual, my heart swooned at his touch. If we hadn't spent the whole flight over from Edinburgh fucking I would have suggested we return to the plane for an hour or so.

"It's funny. I started all this to go to Princeton. But now that I'm going..."

"We've discussed this, Seventy-Seven," he chided me gently. Whenever he thought I was being too headstrong he used my slave name.

"I know, I know."

"You're very valuable to me. And when one has a valuable asset one invests in that asset. When you graduate I'll have a place for you in my organization."

"Thank you, Master," I said. I had a little over a million dollars in a various banks and had earned every penny. It would sit there untouched for now. Master was paying for my school: tuition, room, meals, books, everything. I would study finance and languages. I was now comfortable in French and Spanish. He wanted me fluent in Russian, Japanese and German as well. I would not disappoint him.

"It's not like we won't see each other for four years. I'll have the occasional weekend job for you. You can visit on semester breaks. The time will fly. You'll see."

"I understand Master."

He kissed me.

"A couple of more things, my girl," he said. He handed me a card. It was a business card for a karate dojo in Manville, N.J. "Call this man and make arrangements to begin classes. It's already paid for."

I nodded. I tucked the card into my purse.

"Also, I have a gift for you". He snapped his fingers. Mavis, the tall red headed Irish girl I'd met at the resort - she was number Seventy-Four - came trotting down the gangway with a gift wrapped box.

"You shouldn't have Master. You're already..."

"Open it."

I tore the wrapping off and handed it to Mavis. It was a walnut box with brass fittings. When I opened it I found a small chrome handgun with a mother of pearl grip.

"Here's the address of a shooting range. Get comfortable using that. We'll start you on some bigger hardware later."

I nodded and slipped the address of the shooting range into the box with the gun: whatever The Master wanted. "Yes Master," I said.

He kissed me one last time. "Have fun my dear. And don't be a hermit. You're a young girl at college. You have my permission to fuck around."

Believe it or not, I blushed.

"Just don't fall in love."

I smiled wide. It was too late for that. Forever, I am my Master's slave.

***

Thank you for reading. As always, comments, complaints, suggestions, threats, praise, damnation, accolades and opprobrium are all welcomed and encouraged.

This story was resubmitted on April 2, 2011 to fix a handful of continuity, grammar and stylist errors. No important details of the story have been changed.

-fastandsloppy