The Company Man

Sex with her isn't going to happen. It's not on my list. Sometimes they want the girl trained for anal sex, or deep throat, sometimes they just want her to not be a virgin. They come in all varieties as far as my lists are concerned. This one just happens to say bondage, and urinal. So that's what I'll provide.

Two weeks into the training, and she's advancing, I'm binding her in leather, so tight it's a chore to breathe, and wrapping her breasts in rope until they turn purple. She gets three positions a day, usually for more than an hour each, with a fifteen minute break where she's just collared to the hard point.

Urinal training is pretty much complete, and she'll drink up every drop and lick me clean so I don't have to shake off on her cheek. After a full week of drinking success, I gave her a diet coke, and you'd have thought it was ambrosia.

Her diet is the same as all of them I bring through, boiled chicken breast, and plain pasta. It's cost effective for me, and leaves me less time worrying about her food, and more preparing mine.

In the last week, I give her two glasses of whole milk daily to put good color in her, and give her complexion a fighting chance. By then, she's allowed to stand when not strictly bound, and she'll drop to her knees if I so much as touch my zipper.

At the end of the final week, I pull my pen out of the Escalade, and replace it with a simple dog carrier, covered with a dark blanket. Her list is clear on delivery, so I retrieve my chemicals from the safe, and chloroform her again.

She's never been awake in my home except for in my basement; I don't want her knowing if I have carpet or tile. The less she knows the better for me. Gagged, with her wrists and ankles cuffed, I push her limp form into the dog box, and drive the Escalade to a private air field. It hadn't moved since I pulled in with her.

I see where I'm supposed to be, and it's pretty simple, a routine I've used before. There's a small building near the field with some crates lined up. I pull up close, and open the back of my truck.

Without care, I pull the dog box out, and it thumps to the asphalt. She groans and whimpers inside, and I push it in line. Just before turning to leave, I straighten out the blanket that covers it.

I don't see anyone the entire time I'm there, but I know if I head back even one minute after leaving, she'll be gone. With my job complete, I don't even consider turning around.

I had her for four weeks, and not once did I bother to look at her eyes. I never admired her form, never marveled at her breasts of her hair. I acquired her, trained her, and delivered her.

That's what I do. I'm a simple acquisitions agent for the company.

End.

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Thanks for reading. It's not perfect, and neither am I. There are mistakes and hiccups in there, so I applaud your making it this far through the screw-ups and miss-fires.