The Big Exclusive

"But..."

"I know she was like a daughter to you. I feel for you, I really do, but reporters are cheap and largely interchangeable. Is she really worth bankrupting the network over?"

"But she's a slave, a ..."

"An unfortunate occurrence, unquestionably but everything that happened to her is quite legal. She tripped over her own feet."

"Boss, if you want to be right by Donna, keep her seat open and greet her with a bouquet of roses. Even with the unwanted and perhaps forced sex, she is living a life far better than any of us."

"You guys, can't be serious!" protested the chief.

"Fine, Riley," put in the C.E.O, "If you want your reporter back so bad use YOUR OWN money!"

That brought all conversation to an end and the meeting broke up shortly after.

**

Donna stood proudly on the podium. Somewhere along the way, the quest for these medals had ceased to be only Warren's quest. Donna realized that she was putting herself in the record books for all time, even if it was under an alias. Three golds, two silvers, and a bronze; an excellent career for any Olympian in any era in any game.

Warren gazed at the medals arrayed on the bed in their hotel room. Legally, they were Warrens. He had prepared little frames for them with Donna's picture and times.

"I've got it all over those other slave owners. Mine is not only the most beautiful, she's also the best slave swimmer in the entire country!"

He kissed Donna deeply.

"We'll relax your training, babe. I don't need you winning meaningless meets next year. My cock's not so small that I need constant validation."

**

At the front desk of the Stud Farm, Warren handed her an overnight bag.

"You may end up using nothing in here, Connie. You might end up using everything. In any case, have fun!"

He kissed her deeply on the lips and departed.

Donna was stunned by the luxury on display around her. Much of it surpassed even the opulence she had shared for so long with her young master. Donna wondered if her designer dress and heels were appropriate for the occasion. And the view! High above the ocean with a lighthouse on the rocky coast standing like a sentinel. Soft jazz played over the sound system. The bed in her room was an experimental mattress that gave the sensation of flying or snuggled you like a cocoon or a host of other options depending upon which button you pushed.

There was a knock at the door. The stud she had requested stood beyond the threshold in black tie, carrying a bouquet of white roses. He was the most handsome man she had ever encountered. He made Warren look like a glow worm compared to a sunrise!

"Constance?" he inquired.

"You can come in, stud. But let's get one thing straight right now. My name is Donna and I expect you to address me as that the whole time we are together. No, strike that! You will address me as "Goddess Donna." Is that clear?"

"Yes, Goddess Donna. May I spend some time with you?"

Donna tugged him across the threshold. The weekend at the stud farm was a very happy one indeed.