Stephanie and the Slavers

I let all that sink in. "But in between, you'll have comfortable quarters, good food, medical attention, exercise, even a tanning bed, since you won't be seeing the sun again. And you'll have the other women to show you the ropes and just plain hang out with."

"How many other women?"

"Just three for now, but I'm planning to expand. That's why I was interested in you. But I think I've learned my lesson with slave traders. Unless I'm desperate, I will go back to kidnapping slaves myself. Maybe I can figure out how to make the fake modelling scam work for me from time to time, although it seems risky to let a potential slave know where to find me.

"One of the other slaves used to work as a hairdresser, and I've acquired some professional-level equipment so she can spruce up your hair and nails. It will take a while, but eventually I'll have you looking like your demo picture again."

She leaned in a little closer to me. "Tell me something, Theo. In a lot of ways, you seem like a really nice guy -- thoughtful, considerate, honest. So how does a guy like that end up kidnapping women and forcing them to be sex slaves?"

I thought about it for a while. "I have never really been able to answer that for myself either. The only answer I can ever come up with is that I'm ... complicated."

I stood up and produced the handcuffs one more time. "Enough background for now. There will be plenty of time to get familiar with my routine once you get there. Right now, I have some bargaining to do." I led her back to find the slavers.

As soon as they saw her, they grabbed her and started to shove her back in the cage. "Stop," I barked. "I never want to see her in there again." We argued for a bit, and they finally settled on handcuffing her to a pole in the middle of the room for temporary safekeeping. We went back to the office, the same one I had just been talking to Stephanie in, to talk price.

I drove a hard bargain, explaining how long it would take for me to get her in shape for my more discerning clientele and making a big deal out of how they'd tried to bait me with that old photograph. I stood up and pretended to start walking out a couple of times, but they always called me back. We settled on $3,000.

I went back to my van and got out the suitcase full of cash. I counted out thirty crisp brown hundred-dollar bills and locked the rest away.

We walked down the corridor for the last time. When we got to the van, I helped her up into the back and took off the handcuffs. She looked at the floor and saw four cuffs attached to the floor by short chains, in a spread-eagle pattern. "Sorry to put you back in your most un-favourite position. But it won't be for too long, and it should be less uncomfortable than the trick pad bed." I pointed to the padded leather cuffs.

I produced a wide panel gag with a built-in stuffer ball. "We will be going through some populated areas and may have to stop for red lights and such. I don't want to take chances on any excess noise."

"Well, it looks a damn sight better than the filthy rag those slavers liked to shove in my mouth while they raped me," she said philosophically, and opened her mouth. I settled the ball in her mouth and buckled the gag securely. Then she laid on her back, and I bucked her into place. She did some preliminary squirming to give the cuffs a test, but quickly realized that she wasn't going anywhere but the carpeted floor of my van until I said so.

"See you later," I said as I got out and slid the door shut.

Part Two: Stephanie

I lost track of time, but it seemed as though we had been driving for about two hours or so before we parked and Theo opened the sliding door. I winced as the light flooded the dark interior.

Theo unbuckled me from the ankle cuffs and rearranged the wrist cuffs so that my arms were restrained behind me. Then he undid the gag and helped me out of the van.

We started walking through the garage toward a big metal door. From what Theo had told me, his security precautions were much more effective than those of the assholes who had kept me for six months. If I allowed myself to get taken behind that door, I knew that my chances of escape would go from slim to nearly zero. I considered trying to wrestle myself out of Theo's grip and making a break for the outer garage door, but when I looked back at it I didn't see an opener button anywhere. I decided to save escape attempts for other times when they would not be so obviously futile.

We walked down a corridor and came to a comfy-looking common room. Three other women were sitting in armchairs, reading or watching television, all wearing identical soft-looking pyjama-like outfits that reminded me uncomfortably of prison jumpsuits. They all looked up at me when we came in.

"Folks, I'm bringing in reinforcements. This is your new roommate, Slave Four." He pointed to the women in turn. "This is Slave One, Two and Three. When we come back, they'll probably introduce themselves by their birth names. I don't care if they use them among themselves, but I prefer the more objectifying labels."

He looked at his watch. "Dinner is at six; it's five-thirty now, so I'll have time to get you some better clothes before then. That excuse for a meal the slavers fed you is probably wearing off pretty badly by now." He was certainly right about that, and I was looking forward to seeing if Theo was serious in his promise of good food. Not that anything could me much worse than the slop I had been living on for the past six months. "We'll meet you in the dining room," he said to the other women as he led me out.

He stopped in front of a cupboard and took the cuffs off my wrists. "Take off that junk they gave you to wear." I didn't much want to get naked again after having revelled in wearing clothes for the first time in ages, but his voice was so commanding that I did as I was told. I crossed my arms in front of me and peeled off the baggy T-shirt, then untied the drawstring of the sweat pants. I didn't need to shuck them off -- as soon as they were no longer cinched in by the drawstring, they fell to my feet on their own and I just stepped out of them. I resisted the urge to try to cover my breasts and pussy with my hands. That's never very successful anyway, and I didn't think that I should be coming over all modest at this point.

Theo opened the cupboard and revealed stacks of neatly folded bras, panties and cotton outfits, sorted by size. He took a long look at my breasts, but it didn't feel as though he was leering -- he just seemed to be assessing. He handed me a bra and a pair of panties, followed by one of the outfits. "I'm pretty sure these will fit," he said as I unfolded them.

I pulled on the panties and tried on the bra. "You're a good judge of boobies," I said as I fastened it up.

"Practice," he replied.

Suitably re-dressed, I followed Theo as he gave me a brief tour of my personal cubicle and the gym -- no steel cages, no shackles anywhere. "This whole place is so secure that I don't feel the need for all that dungeon crap," explained Theo. He pointed to the ceiling. "There are cameras everywhere, and we always know exactly what everyone is doing. And I have one extra layer of security. Put your foot up there." He gestured toward a stool and I obeyed. He got something else out of the cupboard and clipped it around my ankle. It was a GPS tracking monitor.

"That's crude and strictly temporary. I have a much more elegant solution. Each of my slaves gets a tiny explosive charge implanted at the back of her skull. Cross one of the perimeter sensors and it goes off. We can also activate it manually if we really need to."

I looked at him shocked disbelief. "Ask one of the other slaves to show you her incision scar. It's right here," he said pointing to the hairline at the back of his head.

"Nobody's fucking doing that to me!"

"Like you think you'll have a choice? You can fight back if it makes you feel better, but Dr. Halliday's operating table has a lot of straps attached to it, and he always has a couple of big assistants to help him apply them. But relax. You aren't healthy enough yet for even a minor operation. When you see Halliday tomorrow, it will be just for a thorough checkup, STD test, and that sort of thing. I want to make sure those asshole slavers haven't broken anything. And he'll assess how quickly you can build up your diet and exercise to get you back in shape." He let all of that sink in for a bit, then continued the tour.

He showed me little kitchen with a fridge in one corner. "That's full of healthy snacks, and you would normally be free to help yourself to them any time, but please stay out of there for now. When people have been starved for a long time, they can really hurt themselves trying to eat too much all at once. That, or they regain weight too quickly and in all the wrong places. That's why Dr. Halliday will design you a diet and exercise program that will get you filled out again in a safe and orderly fashion.

"Speaking of which, it's time for dinner. I've asked the cook to serve you a moderate meal, with only one helping. But it will be a lot more food than you've been used to."

He led me back to a small dining room where the other women were already seated, chatting among themselves. Shortly, another woman in a staff uniform came out and set plates in front of us. It looked like sheer heaven -- roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans and carrots, and a big buttermilk biscuit. My body told me loudly that I should shovel in the food as quickly as possible, but I knew that was a bad idea. I tried to force myself to eat slowly, as my stomach wasn't ready for real food, and I more or less succeeded. When the last bite was gone and I had wiped up every drop of gravy with the biscuit, I had an overwhelming urge to go into the kitchen and raid the snack fridge, but I knew that Theo was right, and managed to stay in my chair.

Over coffee and dessert (I got a very small piece of carrot cake), I started to talk to the other women. They introduced themselves as Jess, Tiffany and Belle. They had been there varying lengths of time -- Jess, whom Theo had referred to as Slave One, had been there the longest at four years, which gave me a good idea of how difficult it would be not to spend the rest of my life here.

Jess said, "Where did Theo find you? No offence, but when he grabs new slaves, he's pretty particular about their condition."

"That's just it: Theo didn't grab me. He was in a hurry and he bought me from a couple of slave traders." I unfolded the story of how I'd been duped by the slavers and how they had treated me. "I'm surprised he even bothered to go through with the deal, but I think he felt sorry for me."

"Yes," said Belle. "Theo's complicated that way." I smiled a bit ruefully at hearing that description again. "Anyway, from the sound of where you've been, you'll like it here a lot better. If you have to be a fuck slave, of course."

"Have you ever tried to escape?" I said, coming straight to the point that had been top of mind for me from the first minute I set foot in Theo's van.

"Of course," Tiffany said. "We've all tried, but in spite of the fact that we're not locked up, the outer doors are always solidly locked. Even the staff don't have keys -- they're controlled remotely. We tried to get together and overpower a guard once, but it didn't go well. In about five seconds, we were swarmed by security and marched off to Theo's punishment cells. Theo presents as a nice guy a lot of the time, but you don't want to spend any time in those. Theo is always careful not to mark up his property, but electricity doesn't leave any marks."

Belle added, "The clients may do a lot of stuff to you, but they only get an hour and a half to do it. Theo will keep you in that cell for days or weeks, and you won't have a good experience. Don't try to get out of here unless, by some miracle, you have a good chance of succeeding."

"And then there's also the explosive charge," Tiffany continued. "I presume Theo has explained that to you." I nodded. "He's not kidding. At some point he'll demonstrate by rolling a mannequin head toward the outer door on a cart. It's quite impressive -- bits of burning plastic everywhere."

"Tried bribing the staff?"

Tiffany laughed. "What do we have to bribe them with? Sex? On slow nights, Theo lets them have their fill of us any way they want."

Jess added, "Once I tried to convince a guard that I had a really rich family and that I would arrange to make him a wealthy man if he helped me escape. He wasn't stupid enough to believe for a second that, even if I had money on the outside, he would ever see any of it once I was out of here. And Theo always knows exactly what's going on, every minute. If one of his staff tried to cut a side deal, he would know about it before you could look around. Besides, they all know that if any of us did get out, we would tell the police and they'd have a SWAT team batter down the door with an armoured car. They'd all be in jail for a really long time."

We changed the subject from escape to former lives, tips on managing various types of clients, stories about what some of the clients liked to do (chilling, but nothing I hadn't expected, and still better than the slavers with their chains and their cage). Eventually we called it a night and headed off to our respective cubicles.

The next day, Theo gave me a more extensive tour and laid out how the days would go once I was healthy enough to take on clients. When work time came, I was to strip naked, put on a pair of high stilettos and nothing else, and head down to the showroom where I would be put on display with other slaves for clients to pick from. He showed me the "entertainment suites" where that night's client would take me, equipped with a bondage bed, a bondage chair, a Saint Ambrose cross, pulleys in the ceiling and attachment points on the walls and floor, and shelves holding the most astonishing array of sex toys and bondage equipment I had ever heard of.

He showed me the promised demonstration with the mannequin head. I didn't doubt his story, but seeing that head explode in a cloud of smoking plastic and burning artificial hair drove the lesson firmly home.

I had my checkup with Dr. Halliday. No STD's, no thanks to the slavers, who made clients wear condoms but never used them themselves, and no internal damage. He confirmed Theo's initial assessment that none of my injuries would leave permanent marks once they had time to finish healing, and chatted with me about my diet and exercise plan. By the time the day was over, my brain was on full overload, but at least I felt that I had a solid grip of the lay of the land at Theo's bondage emporium.

Over the next weeks, as my injuries healed and I regained lost weight and muscle mass, I also worked on some sex training exercises. Theo had furnished me with a set of anal dildoes in sizes ranging from moderate to absolute monster, and I slowly worked up the sizes until I could handle even the monster size -- not that I liked it in the least, but it wouldn't rip me open like it would have at the beginning.

The deep throat training was harder. I've given lots of blow jobs, but I've never mastered the skill of taking a penis down my throat without gagging. Grainy online video clips from the old movie Deep Throat never ceased to fill me with awe at Linda Lovelace's ability to swallow cock without gagging. Belle helped me with that. Theo gave us a couple of flexible dildoes to work with -- about the feel of an erect penis -- and I practiced holding still while she slid them into my mouth and to the top of my throat. She walked me through mental relaxation exercises designed to help me work through my gag reflex.

It took quite a while, but eventual I got so I could handle an eighteen cm dildo down my throat without gagging. I even got so I could let her hold it there while I massaged it with my throat muscles for quite a number of seconds before she had to pull it back and let me snatch a breath.

I doubted that I would ever get to like that either. On the outside, I had tried out all sorts of sexual variants, but always found that my favourite was good old-fashioned penis-vagina sex, with a generous side of affectionate boy friend. However, I also knew that what I preferred wasn't going to matter here.

**

After a month or so, Theo decided that I was ready. My body had rebuilt itself, the tanning bed had taken away some of the pasty pallor that six months in the slavers' dungeon had left me with, and I was strong enough to get my surgery. Yes, I fought back, and yes, two burley attendants forced me onto the operating table and held me face down while Dr. Halliday tightened straps around my wrists, elbows, waist, knees and ankles. One shot of anaesthetic and that was that.

Theo hadn't started making up a daily roster to divide us into time slots the way he would do later. There were so few of us -- even counting two new recruits that had joined us while I was rebuilding my strength -- that we were all on the same shift every night, the clients limited to the six we could service on Theo's preferred once-per-night system. When seven thirty rolled around, Theo's voice came over the PA system with a hearty, "OK ladies. Work time."

We all reluctantly shucked off our clothes and put on our stilettos, then paddled down the hall to the showroom. We were all well aware of what would happen to us if we tried to buck Theo's system, so we went along with it no matter how little we wanted to.

The room featured a line of six telescoping poles mounted upright on the floor, each equipped with a large metal dildo. The room was long enough to accommodate at least half a dozen more, but Theo hadn't added them until he could recruit more slaves. We each picked one, straddled it, and waited our turn while Theo worked down the line, rigging us up.

When my turn came, Theo first cuffed my wrists behind my back with a pair of wide neoprene handcuffs, then buckled a medium-sized spreader bar between my legs. He cut a wide strip of white microfoam tape and sealed my mouth with it. Then he lubed the dildo, held my lips apart with one hand, and with the other slid the dildo up into my pussy until it was firmly seated, almost touching my cervix but stopping just short of bumping into it. He locked the telescoping mechanism with a hex key and moved on to the next person.

After that, I had no choice but to stand there, held in place by the dildo pole and feeling about as exposed as I have ever felt in my life.

Theo worked down the line, rigging each woman the same way, and then sat down in a chair by the door to wait for the first client. He didn't have to wait long. The first guy of the evening came in, a fairly innocuous-looking guy, average build, average height, a gentle smile on his face as he surveyed the line of naked women offered for his pleasure. Almost immediately he picked Jess, who was staked out two poles to my right -- it seemed perhaps that she was a favourite. Theo gave him the hex key and he unfastened the pole, slid the dildo out of her pussy, and unfastened the spreader so she could walk with him down the hall.

Lucky Jess -- she didn't have to stand around in that uncomfortable and humiliating position very long at all.

The next one was a big, burley guy with a bushy red beard. He would have looked at home as a lumberjack, I thought to myself. He spent a lot more time making a selection, walking slowly along the line of women squeezing breasts and buttocks, sometimes slipping a finger a short way up assholes or around the dildoes to assess pussy lips. Finally, he stopped in front of Grace, who was staked out immediately to my left. She was new, having been recruited a couple of weeks later than I was. She is a lovely, petite young women of East Asian descent -- her grandparents had immigrated from Taiwan many years earlier. She had small but well-defined breasts carried high on her chest, delicate features, and a cascade of long, black hair that was lusher and fuller than usual for Asian women. She told us that Theo had snatched her off a dark street in one of the dodgier parts of Hamilton as she was leaving her job in a strip club, a job she had taken to finance her next year of education.