Santo Diablo Pt. 06

Katina grew into a beautiful woman. She stood 5'2 with long blond hair that hung straight down to the middle of her back. She stood with an hourglass figure. Years of dance and training gave her a muscular build, and her thighs and calves were very toned from weight training. When she jumped during her routines, she gained more height than women much taller than her. It almost appeared that she was floating when she did.

She possessed that Eastern European look, one of beauty and intensity. Her eyes burned through you, leaving no doubt if you crossed her, she would rip you apart. Setting this off was her trademark smile, disarming anyone she came across. Betraying this smile was a deep down distrust of most people, not surprising given her background and the slaughter of her family at a young age. Anyone that didn't know Katina would assume she was just a happy young woman with few problems. We knew different.

Julie had always been a sort of pseudo-mother for Katina. Katina's aunt and uncle provided a place to live and supervision, but neither was very nurturing. That is where Julie came in. Julie mentored her, helped her through the problems young people have in their teenage years. Julie shopped with her to buy her first bra, was there when Katina hit puberty. Julie celebrated with her when Katina went on her first date, and cried with her when Katina had a boy break her heart for the first time. All the normal things a mother helps a young woman through, Julie did. Katina was family, and she grew close to all of us, but was closest to Julie.

I tried to be a father figure for her. At least I tried to model how a man should act. She asked me to go to the father and daughter dance with her. She only had two before she grew too old for that and started dancing with boys. She looked up to me with respect, but never grew to the point of seeing me as a father. I understood that. She was working through some issues of her own, with the help of Susan. Men killed her family, and a man killed her mother. It was a man that imprisoned her, and it was only by chance that Julie was there to rescue her. Katina didn't trust men, which made it even more surprising that she trusted me. Susan reasoned it was because I was there when Julie rescued Katina and she saw me as a protector, witnessing me ensuring Julie and Penny were cared for after they were injured.

What Katina didn't know was our lifestyle. She knew I was married to five women, and called each of them aunt. When she moved to California with us, Julie sat down with her and explained the dynamics of our relationships. She needed to be prepared if she spent any time in our house. Katina accepted it, but didn't fully understand it. Julie reassured we did not include her in any part of it, and we attempted to not flaunt anything around her to make her uncomfortable. I set the house up with a split design. I lived with the women on one side, and Katina's room was one of six other rooms on the other side. The middle of the house held the kitchen, dining room, and living rooms.

Julie began teaching Katina self-defense shortly after she came to live in the U.S., and by the time she was 18, Katina was very proficient. After Julie explained my relationships with the other women, she also explained our jobs, including black widows. Katina became very interested, and Julie agreed to move her training into more advanced subjects. Katina was not entering the black widow program, but she was receiving the same training. Her dance experience made her a quick study, and it didn't take long for her to learn the various disciplines. Julie told me Katina could be a better black widow than anyone we had. I didn't want to put that pressure on her, and told Julie to keep focusing on Katina's ballet. If it was possible to give Katina a life away from the danger we all lived under, I wanted to give that to her.

Once we settled in and everyone resumed their jobs, it was time for me to step into my new life as a human trafficker and exporter. I don't want to bore you with the details, but I used my business contacts to gain introductions to various organizations around the world that dealt in the slave trade. I also bolstered my logistics division, splitting off assets to my new business. I inherited Wayne's transportation network, and much of it was outdated. I had two cargo ships that were transferred over to me from Wayne's business for a small fee, and I invested in bringing them up to regulations.

In order for me to operate illegally, I needed first to operate legally. Born out of this was Burkhart Shipping, comprising everything from vans to trucks, ships to planes. Overnight, a billion dollar company sprung up from nowhere. I quickly gained contracts by undercutting my competitors, taking a loss on some jobs to build clientele quickly. I ran this new company for a year before I moved anything illegal. That year was also spent getting everything straight so the women could do their old jobs from California and growing our West Coast businesses.

I ran everything out of the seaside mansion, with a little help. I had Omega, who I now addressed by her given name Deborah, as an assistant. She kept the mansion in order and ran the staff. I moved Ann, my personal assistant, out to California with me. She was still married to her husband, but he stayed back in New York, not wanted to leave his job. It was his mistress more than his job that kept him back, and Ann understood that. Their relationship was unique. Ann was also attached to me, like her husband was to his mistress. Neither wanted to leave the person they were submissive to.

I put Ann up in the mansion with her own suite, and she was happy to live in such luxury. She had her food cooked for her, and the staff tended to her every need. I certainly did. At Santana, I used her mainly as a secretary and personal assistant. My job was now a little different and lent itself to a more relaxed atmosphere. I didn't see the need to keep things so professional, so I treated Ann as I did my other women.

I instructed her how I wanted her to dress, and I used her more often for my pleasure. She reacted excitedly, admitting she always wanted me to dominate her more. Taking a cue from John, I often had her naked and restrained, standing or kneeling next to my desk. I had a few rooms converted into one large office, plenty of room for Ann, Julie, and Beth to take up positions around me. When the women were not working, they were tending to me. I'm sure if I added up the time, my cock was inside a woman almost more than it was in my pants. I enjoyed sex, and I didn't see a reason I shouldn't take advantage of the women who more than happily gave themselves to me.

Punishments were handed out liberally. I met any transgression with a spanking. This was mainly a game between me and the women. If the transgression was small, say not wearing the clothes I chose, the spanking was light and playful. It was enough to redden their ass, but I spent more time playing with their vagina than actually punishing them. Each woman would purposely do something small to see if I would catch it. If I did, it was a spanking. If I missed it, they got to choose a reward. It could be sex, time off, or anything else reasonable. Everyone enjoyed it, especially since it meant I had to pay close attention to each woman every day.

Deborah came to me and asked to speak with me. She explained her life had been spent as a slave, serving various men who didn't appreciate her. Hell, they barely treated her like a human. She was kept in cages, barely fed and mistreated by her owners and their families. Wayne was the best of the bunch, but even he took her for granted and misused her. I was the first man that treated her with respect, and rewarded her for her hard work. She wanted to dedicate herself to me as my slave, someone who would serve me in whatever way I desired.

She explained I had five wives, and Ann, as my assistant, was also mine to use. While I would also use Deborah, it would be different. She wanted to be my property, something I owned. She wasn't so much interested in a relationship based on love, but wanted one based on total devotion and loyalty. Her life would belong to me, and I could treat her as I saw fit. I understood how some slaves become attached to their owners out of a sense of survival. Pleasing the person who controls your life is important, as it's the only way to get the things needed to live. Having someone who isn't under someone's ownership want to live that existence didn't seem like a healthy choice.

I asked Susan about this. She spent many sessions talking with Deborah in the past, and I asked her to speak with her again. I wanted to ensure Deborah wasn't losing herself in her desire to be owned by me. Susan explained to me Deborah only learned to equate personal security with her servitude to someone else. When a man owned her, she felt secure, like her life had purpose. Living in foster care as a child and never having a family, she tied her self-worth to how she served others. The only family she knew were the men and families that bought and abused her. She sought that attention, the abuse, as proof they cared about her. Why else would they take the time to punish her if not for the fact they cared for her and wanted to help her improve.

In foster care, no one cared enough to even do that. When she became too much for one family, or didn't measure up, they just sent her back to the state. The state just sent her off to another family, and the cycle continued until she aged out of the system. It was only when she was abducted and sold into slavery that she had anyone try to correct her behavior and pay attention to her. That the attention was abuse didn't matter; it was attention.

I talked with Deborah again and explained to her she didn't need to go that route. Everyone considered her family, and she didn't need me to own her for that. That didn't change how she felt. She wanted to feel owned, to belong to someone. She told me owning her made her feel I accepted her, that I wanted her. I asked her if she loved me and if that was why she wanted this. She couldn't answer that, as she didn't know how love felt. She admitted to having an attraction to me, and when I pressed her, she didn't know if that was a physical attraction or an attraction to my power. She was incapable of separating the two.

After talking more about it, I agreed to go along with her desires. That is how I gained my first slave. I honestly didn't know how to treat a slave. Sure, I've been around them most of my adult life, first in the club, then rescuing women caught in slavery. The women in my life were all submissive, but I could consider none a slave. The way my relationships were with Beth and Stephanie came close, but that was still a way off from actual slavery. I would figure it out, but I knew just because someone was a slave didn't require me to treat them less than human or abuse them.

I told Deborah there was no time like the present. Since the first night I met her, I didn't have sexual relations with her. I would be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to it. She was a beautiful woman. She stood 5'6, and wore wavy brunette hair that fell to her shoulders. Her breasts were a B cup, but full and sat nicely on her compact frame. She wasn't out of shape by any means, but she wasn't skinny either. She carried a little weight, mostly around her hips that accentuated her figure, giving her nice curves. Her face was very attractive, and she always smelled of flowers.

Deborah attempted to make herself presentable, and I never saw her in anything but nice clothes. After beginning her work for me, she ensured she had a full wardrobe of stylish clothes, taking her cue from Isabella's example. She wore nothing overly sexual, but the clothes didn't hide her figure by any means. I often admired her, but didn't feel it prudent to force sex on her, given her background and past abuse.

All of those concerns were behind me. I told Deborah to undress and present herself to me. She immediately took off her clothes, excited to do so. Once she was naked, she dropped to her knees. She spread her knees apart, pushed her chest out, and put her hands behind her head. Over the years, I had seen men order their slaves to present themselves, and it seemed Deborah was familiar with that instruction. Once she was in position, she lowered her head and awaited my next command.

I sat for a few minutes, admiring her. I had six women who gave themselves to me, but somehow this felt different. Maybe it was me not basing my relationship with Deborah on love but on ownership. I can't honestly say I had feelings for her. When I dug deep, the only thing I came out with was a physical attraction to her. Even Ann elicited feelings of love, as I grew very fond of her over the years. Not so with Deborah. I used Deborah, both as an employee and for pleasure, but it never reached a point of love.

She was a tool I used, not unlike my computer. I grew attached to my computer; I liked my computer, but I never loved my computer. I could replace my computer and never look back. Although I never sold or got rid of Deborah, I knew I could do it without too much emotion involved. Throughout my life, I owned other slaves, but through all of them, Deborah remained my top slave. She held that position and managed my other slaves as part of her position.

I broke out of my daydreaming and ordered Deborah to take out my cock and get it hard. She crawled forward until she was between my legs. I sat in a recliner in my office, and as it often was, my other women surrounded me. Beth was naked, tied in my other recliner with her hands secured behind her. I had her legs spread wide, a vibrator inserted into her vagina. The power was on low and she sat watching us, moaning. She couldn't say anything because of the gag in her mouth.

Julie stood next to my recliner, hands tied behind her back with her legs spread apart in a pair of black heels. I also gagged Julie, and she stood there watching intently as Deborah unzipped my pants. Ann was next. She sat at her desk that I had in one corner of my large office. I also had a much larger desk for her outside my office, but she spent most of her time at the smaller desk close to me. She was dressed, but watching Deborah, she pushed her chair back, hiked up her dress, spread her legs, and began fingering herself as she watched Deborah take out my cock.

Once Deborah had my cock free, she stroked it until it hardened. She then put it in her mouth, tonging the tip while her hand stroked it slowly. She lowered her head down, sliding her hand down with it, then slowing lifting her head up, bringing her hand up behind it. She repeated this motion slowly while circling her tongue around the tip of my cock. Her grip first grew tight, then loosened to grow tight again. As I considered fucking her, the thought of birth control entered my mind. I raised her head and asked her if she was on birth control and she answered no.

She told me her first owner had her sterilized, so it was impossible for her to have kids. I felt sorry for her, and she must have seen it in my eyes. She told me it was fine, that she didn't want to have kids, never did. She didn't want to bring a child into a world that had mistreated her so badly. She wrapped her lips back around my cock and went back to work. I sat there enjoying the sensation of Deborah's outstanding mouth while I looked around at my other women.

Beth was intently watching, now grinding her hips up and down, trying to get more feeling out of the vibrator buried deep inside her. Julie also watched and looked frustrated she couldn't use her hands to pleasure herself. I could see her sweat as her frustration grew. I have to credit her though; she stood in her position and didn't move. I would need to reward her for that when I finished with Deborah. As I watched Ann, our eyes locked, and she threw her head back, reaching her first orgasm. After she recovered and put her attention back on me, I told Deborah to stop and climb into my lap and start fucking me.

Deborah happily complied, almost jumping up and straddling my cock. She was extremely wet, dripping on me as she positioned herself. This was the first time I fucked Deborah, so it took her a few minutes to get my cock fully into her. When she bottomed out, she let out an enormous sigh, looked me in the eye, and began. She started slowly, pulling herself up, then lowering herself down. She had a look of concentration on her face. After a few minutes, the look of concentration turned slowly to pleasure as she picked up speed.

Until this time, I just sat there and let Deborah do the work. As she picked up speed, I put my hands on her waist and fucked her back. This caused her to renew her efforts, not so much picking up speed, but the intensity that she pulled up and drove herself down. She put so much effort into it that when she reached bottom; she did so with so much effort that it pushed the breath out of her. She inhaled when she lifted, then exhaled loudly when she hit bottom. Her exhales turned into grunts, and the combination of watching her push herself down and listening to the grunts it caused brought me to the top.

I exploded inside of her, and when she felt it, she orgasmed. She stopped fucking me, pushing down as far as she could, and gripped my cock with her vagina. Her hips moved forward and back slightly, aiding in her efforts to drain ever drop from my softening dick. Once she squeezed all she could, she climbed off, got back down on her knees, and put my cock back into her mouth. She remained there, her mouth wrapped around my shrinking cock, occasionally licking the top and swallowing what cum she could get. She kept my dick in her mouth until it was fully soft and all fluid was out.

Pleased with herself, she crawled backward a bit, and put herself into the same position she started; legs spread, hands behind her head, and head lowered. She sat waiting for my next command, exactly what I would expect a slave to do. She did all of this with no input from me. It must have come from years of training and conditioning. I watched her closely, and it appeared she was happier. I'm sure she enjoyed the orgasm, but it was more than that. Her expression was one of contentment, and she looked relaxed.

In the days that followed, I only found the need to use Deborah for sex twice. I purposely went a few days in between to see how she reacted. Her demeanor changed from what it was before I accepted her as my slave. She was more relaxed, seemed happier, and more confident. Whether I had sex with her didn't change that. For Deborah, sex was just part of her duty to me. She didn't view it as a reward or punishment, just part of her life as a slave. She told me she could go her entire life without sex, even though she enjoyed it. Her happiness was about me owning her and her devotion to me. She felt wanted and safe, and knew I would take care of her.

The other women weren't sure how to treat her. Deborah was part of the family, but her relationship with me separated her from the other women. She wasn't a sister to the other women, but closer to an employee or servant. Deborah didn't have a relationship with any of the other women, outside of when I had her help one of them. She belonged to me and me only. After some talking and me explaining how I viewed Deborah, they understood.

While Beth and Stephanie liked to view themselves as my slaves, they admitted Deborah's slavery to me was on another level. I told them my relationship with them was based on love, but I didn't love Deborah. She was a possession, something I used, and it didn't go beyond that. I cared for her like I would an expensive car. No more, no less. Of course, I realized Deborah was a trained black widow and could kill me in an instant if she desired. I hoped it would never come to that, but I was always aware of it. Thankfully, it never did, but she was the only slave I had trained in that regard.