Yo-yo Chronicles Ch. 02-2 Ending

*****

Nicole was first. Butler's ex-wife was unsuspecting and an easy target. She lived a very ordered life and was extremely predictable. Butler had given us the full scoop on her. His crisis was much like mine, and when I reviewed the episode with him in it, I could understand his anger. When he was volunteered, he had resisted on-stage and had been injured. I had a lot of respect for that, it's what I wish I had done. He'd almost lost a testicle, but it hadn't stopped them from torturing him. When it was over he had gone to the hospital with her, spent a few days recuperating, and taking care of business by phone when she wasn't in attendance.

When he'd had enough of bed rest, he'd brought the hammer down hard, changing the locks, packing up her shit, and leaving all her belongings in the driveway with a copy of the divorce papers, asking for everything. She put up a bit of a fight, insisting on a 50/50 split of their liquid assets, no alimony, and no kids to worry about. She even gave over the house, asking only for a few pieces of sentimental furniture and the car. Apparently she had a lot of guilt over what had been done to him. Too little, too late, was his opinion.

When the van pulled up beside her in the Wal-Mart parking lot, it only took five seconds for her to disappear, her car quietly moved to the airport long-term parking. Snatching her was more a test of our capabilities than anything else.

A couple of hours later, she was at our clubhouse, naked and under restraint. She never asked what was happening. She did keep pleading with us to tell Butler she was sorry. She was so sorry.

She was going to be.

Nothing was done to her, other than to place her inside one of the punishment boxes. It was a 5 foot cube, heavily padded and insulated. Completely soundproof, and absolutely light proof, we called it the black box. She we forced inside, the door closed, and she was left there, without explanation.

After 24 hours of complete isolation, Xavier was directed to provide her with a single bottle of water, and nothing else. After 48 hours he could do with her what he wanted, and she would be chained to the floor in the open pen. If she fought back, she went back in the black box.

With the excitement of that first success under our belts, Janine and Annette were picked up within hours of each other three days later. Janine, Carter's ex-wife, and Annette, Xavier's ex were locked in the same basement sixty-seven miles outside of the city, where Nicole was being kept. The moment they saw the condition that Nicole was in, their screams and arguments turned to pleas, which fell on deaf ears.

Janine was placed in the black box, and Annette went in the white box. The white box was similar to the black box, same dimensions and completely soundproof. The difference was, it was brightly lit at all times. The side walls and roof were translucent, with fluorescent lights behind them. The interior was white. Personally, I think I'd prefer the black box to the white.

That weekend we met at the house. When Nicole watched the seven men enter the basement, she called out to her ex-husband. He ignored her, and we dragged the other two out of their box confinement. Xavier had been watching over them, and they were obviously terrified of him. When they started begging, it only took a couple of lashes with his flogger to shut them up. They were all hosed down, and transferred to the pen. We didn't talk to them, didn't explain why they were there, but I'm sure they knew. None had been fed, but we gave them water.

I don't know why I was singled out to be the group mouthpiece, but I was.

"Welcome to your new home. You may as well forget about any previous lives you may have had, because you're never going back to them. You know why you're here. What you did." I stopped to look at each of them. There was still a lot of fight in them, but they stayed quiet. Xavier's intimidating presence, with his whip in hand, probably helped.

"You will obey. You will not speak unless you're spoken to. You will show your masters deference and respect at all times. You will address any man you see as Master or Sir. If your behavior warrants it, you will be fed, and taken care of. You will be punished for ill behavior, or if anyone feels like it. You will be used, however and whenever we want. If you need to be punished, it will be harsh."

I stepped in front of Nicole. "Do you understand what I've said, slave Nicole?"

She was quick to response. "Yes Sir."

I moved over in front of Janine. "Do you understand what I've said, slave Janine?"

She looked around before responding, and Xavier's lash came down on her hard. "YES!" she shrieked. I glared at her, and she received three more lashes before she realized her error. "Yes, Master! I understand, Master!"

I looked up at Xavier. "Punishment and the black box for her, when this is done." She was huddled, on the ground crying, when I stepped in front of Annette."

"Do you understand what I've said, slave Annette?"

She glared at me. "You won't get away with—" she gasped from the first blow, and still continued, "—this, you bastards."

I dropped to one knee in front of her. "We already did. You're ours. You'll never leave here. There is no escape. You're just a memory to the outside world. I know your story, you evil bitch. You deserve everything you have coming, and more. I'm going to take great pleasure in making sure you get yours."

Xavier seemed to have no compunctions against beating his ex-wife. As soon as I was finished, he was whipping her. She was a tough little cunt, and didn't cry out until she'd received at least half-a-dozen.

"Do you understand what I've said, slave Annette?" I asked, when he took a break.

She glared at me, and through gritted teeth hissed, "Yes."

Xavier lifted his whip and I put up a hand to restrain him. "Yes, what? How do you address me?"

She sat up, still acting as if she was somehow in control. "Yes, Master. I understand."

I grinned. "Very good." I looked up at Xavier. "White box. Punishment every eight hours, for ten minutes. No more, no less." I felt that last part was needed, because I knew Xavier might overdo things with his wife. He was still quite angry.

We had already discussed it. Part of the sensory deprivation was to screw with their concept of time. He'd randomly punish her at random three to six hour intervals.

There were no windows in the basement, so the only idea of the passage of time for any of them came from when we paid them a visit, or when we turned the lights on or off. It was even worse when they were in the isolation boxes.

We left them, and returned upstairs to discuss our success and our remaining targets. We also presented ideas as to how they should be treated.

In a solemn ceremony we swore we'd never roll-over on each other, no matter what happened. If any of us were caught, we'd swear we were in it alone, no matter what. Neil assured us we'd have the best lawyers money could buy. We agreed on our intentions, realizing that what we were talking about had potentially very long repercussions. We sealed the deal getting drunk and gangbanging each of the three cheating sluts we had locked up downstairs.

It was the first time we'd had any interaction with them, other than their capture and lecture. We used Nicole first, then left her chained to the floor while, we released Janine from her box. She was crying before we even started. When we were done with her, we chained her beside Nicole. We took a break, had a drink, then made our first two captives suck us hard, before releasing Annette. Within moments of coming out of the box, she was airtight. She struggled a little, but not enough to make a difference. She was my first red-head.

We used her pretty hard, most of us going twice. Xavier refused to stick his dick in her. Instead he helped himself to Nicole, who was surprisingly accommodating, not fighting back at all. When we were done, we put Janine and Annette back in their boxes, and called it a night.

We still had things to do.

Petra, the evil bitch who had gone after Neil was a little more difficult. She had money, and good security. She didn't work, content to live off the money she'd received in her divorce. She was smart and careful. The team was planning a complicated capture scenario when she practically fell into our arms. She had gone out on a Saturday evening, the GPS we'd planted on her car showing her destination to be a local Cougar bar. When the three of us swooped down on her location, she was bombed, and was being walked out of the building by an equally drunk kid, likely no more than 18 years old. The young man would wake up with a headache in the parking lot an hour later, around the same time that Petra was being introduced to her new home for the foreseeable future.

Our last conquest was the easiest of all. Quiet Dean stayed in contact with his wife, for the sake of their two kids. She had traveled for business, leaving the kids with their parents. Her itinerary was well known, as were her habits. When she came in on the early evening flight, trudging with her bags to her car parked in long-term parking, she never expected her mini-van to be already occupied. The moment she sat in the driver's seat she was overpowered, dragged into the back of the vehicle, and driven to our little resort in the country.

Our paranoia served us well. Whoever's wife was being picked up was never part of the capture team, and we made sure they had a great public alibi. Once we had all five in the basement, it was obvious that keeping control over them was too big a task for Xavier alone. Especially with the training we had in mind. I did mostly contract work, usually on the client's premise. With the writing on the wall, I concluded my current contract, opting out of an extension, and joined Xavier at our clubhouse, his new full-time home. Between us, we took responsibility for the building and the women captured. Ellie stayed with me for the first two weeks, taking time off from her work. We told our family we were taking a much needed vacation to "re-connect". Neil underwrote our expenses, and kept the mortgage and bills up-to-date.

As an independent contractor, I had over four months of expenses saved in case of emergency. I could have absorbed the financial impact of my 'break' in business, but it was nice not to have to. Ellie made decent money, about a third of what I did, but she had the benefits. It was harder for her to get time off. Me, nobody would notice. I could claim to be working a new contract.

The remaining men kept up appearances, making sure they had air-tight alibis for when their wives disappeared, and biding their time. Once the first woman had been captured, we stopped our meetings in town, only meeting at the clubhouse.

Bob was playing his part. He and Velma started attending the shows again. It made him sick, each time he watched another atrocity, but he understood his role. I'm just glad it was him, and not me. I don't think I could have handled it.

The hard part for me was no more Velma, I'd gotten used to enjoying her. After a while, I had other things to keep me distracted. Five of them. At times I wondered how she was doing.

Phase one was complete. We had the women under our control, and would continue to train them, as part of phase two. Phase three would start when the true villains were under our control. Personally, I had a lot to keep me busy until then.

*****

Our intentions weren't kind. We wanted to break these women. Humiliate, torture, and mentally abuse them. Some might think us unusually cruel or vindictive. Let them take their turn on that stage before throwing the first stone.

By the time the furor and concern for the women's disappearances had settled, and the police inquiries stopped, the five women who had betrayed their husbands in the most heinous fashion imaginable were well on their way to being broken.

It had been six weeks since the capture of Diana, our last. We had the captives convinced it was more like three months. It was just me and Xavier, everyone else keeping their distance during that time. I knew they were getting antsy, but it was a group decision to allay suspicion. Xavier had no ties to the community, and no job. His disappearance wasn't unexpected, but we had heard that his ex-wife's family was looking for him. He almost never left the grounds.

As for me, I had no ties to any of them. My wife wasn't missing. I had ended my contract, and spent a few hours each day pursuing a dream of mine I'd never had the time or means to indulge. I was writing. Neil was paying both Xavier and me a salary to be property caretakers and to manage the slave training. It was better pay than I'd had before this all started. I had no complaints, although Ellie wasn't ecstatic. She spent the weekends with me, and usually at least one evening each week. She confessed she was looking forward to our having more time together, and that she was worried about me. She said I was changing. We talked a lot on the phone. I needed the calming effect of contact with her.

After the fourth week, Xavier and I agreed, we'd allow her to be minimally involved. We'd allow our new slaves to believe that my wife had once undergone what they were going through. It was an additional mind-fuck, giving them a little hope, with little actual chance of it happening. We explained things to Ellie, and she agreed quickly, both to help, and maintain the subterfuge.

I watched Ellie shiver as she used the hose on the naked women, looking for any more injuries. Just the usual bumps and bruises. She ignored their pleading, probably afraid of being lumped in with them, behind the iron bars, chained to her own ring on the floor.

The central pen was a large space, centered against one of the basement walls. It was enclosed in nearly a thousand dollars worth of black iron pipe, with a large gated door, and a variety of odd openings around the perimeter, whatever Xavier's warped mind could come up with. Iron rings were set in the floor in four rows of five, six feet apart. More rings were attached to the basement wall, and to the ceiling. It was almost indestructible, and frankly, scary looking.

We maintained the impression that Ellie was a slave like them, only she'd been raised to a slave level that they might one day attain if they showed promise. She wore a collar, and a scrap of clothing whenever she was downstairs. She was a Tier 5 slave, with a modicum of freedom, and access to the outside world. It was a goal. None of the slaves had even been promoted to Tier 1. It might have been a goal, but we were trying to make it clear they were still a long ways away. It was another way of controlling them, to give them the slightest of hope.

From my position near the top of the stairs, I watched Xavier walk up behind her. "You should be in there with them," he growled.

She shrunk before him. "I know."

"You're damned lucky. If I had my way . . ."

Ellie stepped away from him. "I know. But I'm paying my own price. Master Stu decides about me. Nobody else. I was helping him before you or any of the others even got involved." It was good to hear the Master Stu reference. She was staying in her role.

Xavier shrugged. "I still think you should be chained. You know what will happen if you betray us. It'll make this," he nodded toward the huddled naked women behind the iron fencing, "look like a cakewalk."

"So you've told me a dozen times. I'll be the last to betray my husband again. He forgave me, and I'll never make him regret that. I'm going to help take down Joanna. She lied to me too."

I walked down the steps to interrupt their little discussion. I rarely interfered, I wanted Ellie kept on edge. Nervous. Now that the rest of the team would be spending more time there, things would change again. I needed to reassure her. At least for the moment. I continued down the steps and stood beside my wife, putting my arm around her shoulders. She leaned against me, trembling.

"Go on upstairs, Slave Ellie. It's feeding time."

She nodded. As she walked away, I spoke with Xavier, lowering my voice. "I trust her. As much as any of you. She's playing her part, and playing it well."

"She's your responsibility," Xavier said with a shrug. "It's not how I would handle it."

"Understood. But then again, I dealt with the aftermath differently. She's paid, and she'll continue to pay. Now it's a chance for the rest of you to get a little payback, before we go after that bitch in charge."

"Agreed. How many we feeding?"

"Two again."

Xavier grinned. "Whatever we want?"

"No reason to change it now, is there?"

"The other guys are coming. Maybe we should leave their women for them."

"Nothing's changed. The rules we made, as a group still stand. There is no 'their' women anymore," I reminded him.

"You're right," Xavier said. "It's hard not to think of her that way, you know?"

"I do. I get it. But it's what we agreed. Part of the process."

"Yeah. Not like the bitches don't deserve it."

I grinned, smacking the dour man on the shoulder. "Keep reminding yourself that. You want to go first?"

Xavier nodded. We had come up with a dozen or more ways to incentivize the women. Xavier liked it simple. He pressed the button that allowed the cables that passed through each woman's floor ring, and attached to their collars, to go slack. Xavier was a creative lunatic. The cables could be retracted to the point where the collars were in contact with the floor ring, pinning the slaves to the floor helplessly. Under normal situation they were allowed about four feet of slack, not quite enough to stand up comfortably. When they were given full slack, they had about ten feet to work with. They new better than to get tangle up with each other, that was serious punishment.

The device he'd created allowed the cables to be retracted individually, as a complete row, or even a combination of rows. When the big motor started up, it was noisy, and the slaves would always get anxious, before the reels were engaged.

The five women nervously turned to face him, quiet, waiting to see what the game would be. All wanted to be fed. None wanted to be punished.

Xavier opened the waist high hole in the fencing, his favorite for some reason. When he showed them the stick, they started jockeying for position. "Fetch," he called out, throwing the stick in the middle of them.

It only took a few seconds for Nicole to claim the stick, amid hitting, kicking and scratching. Once she had it she ran as quickly as possible to the corner where her cable reached furthest from the others. The remaining women cried and screamed as Xavier hit the power-reel buttons, and the losers were dragged back to their ring. It was a nice setup. I was impressed when he installed it, putting in enough cables and rings for two rows, ten prisoners. Once Nicole saw it was safe, she ran over to the opening in front of Xavier, dropped to her knees, and held the stick up to the hole. "Sir," she said simply.

Xavier laughed. "You're a tough little cunt, ain't ya?"

She looked up shyly. "Thank you sir. Thank you for choosing Nicole. You know I win the stick game."

Xavier opened his pants, grinning. "You do, don't you? I hadn't noticed."

Nicole thrust her head through the opening, waiting for him to slide the collar in place. "Of course not, sir. I'm not worthy of your attention."

"Food first or after?" he asked.

"After, always. Nicole craves her Master, more than food."

"She does, does she? Then you wouldn't mind if I just used you, and fed one of the others?" Xavier teased, slapping his cock against her cheek.

"Whatever Master X desires," Nicole replied automatically. I knew that was a lie, but Nicole was taking the training exceptionally well.