The True Master Ch. 10

February 21 2016:

*The Apprentice*

The doorknob began to turn and I jumped behind the nearest cabinet of computers. I heard a slight creak as the door opened and I had to force myself to continue breathing at a normal rate. I heard someone stepping into the room but I stayed still.

"What's going on?" asked Marcus in my ear.

I ignored him and waited.

The person, whoever it was, shuffled into the room and I heard the squeal of plastic wheels as they moved; they had a cart or something with them. The sounds of their movements faded and I slowly moved my head out from behind the cabinet.

A fat guy in a white shirt a few sizes too small for him was shuffling down the rows of computers, reaching every so often into the cart to extract some piece of equipment and then insert it into the server. He had headphones in and looked totally bored.

I could easily outrun this guy, but whatever he was plugging into the racks of computer had to be important. I slowly moved away from the cabinet I was hiding behind and, crouching to stay out of his line of view, I approached the cart. It had several boxes of stuff and all the stuff inside each one looked identical. Slowly creeping up, trying to remain as quiet as possible despite his headphones, I sidled up to the cart.

Reaching into the second row of it I grabbed two of the pieces of equipment, hard drives I think they were, and slipped them into my pocket. The guy continued his work totally unconcerned.

Rolling my eyes, I slowly crept away and slipped out of the door.

"Hey!"

I swung around. Another guy, almost as fat as the first, was walking down the hall.

I stood back up and waving at the second guy I sprinted back down the hall towards the fire exit. Vaulting down the stairs, I glanced back to see the guy was barely halfway down the hall and I smiled. Jumping down the second set of stairs I shouldered out of the exit door.

I heard the fire alarm for the building going off. Grinning, I sprinted across the parking lot and jumped back over the fence.

"That didn't sound good," said Marcus.

"No, a guy showed up. I set off the fire alarm."

"Well that's just great."

"I got whatever he was plugging into the computers though, can I get a bonus?" I asked.

Marcus sighed.

--

February 25 2016:

*The True Slut - Beth*

Slave handed her first Master the tool and then straightened back up into the proper posture, her chest on display for the first Master to admire.

"Not this one. I need a smaller gauge," said the first Master as he handed the tool back to her. Slave nodded and quickly placed the correct tool in the first Master's hand.

Slave had failed her Master but he was still teaching her. She did not like failing him though; every mistake she made felt more horrible than the last.

"What the fuck are you doing?" spat the horrible woman on the operating table.

The first Master didn't say anything as he continued to work. The woman was immobilized and still conscious even as the first Master worked something into her skull through a small incision he had made.

"Do not insult the Master," repeated Slave.

"Fuck you too you bloody bimbo!" screamed the horrible woman.

Slave didn't say anything. She was a bimbo and proud of it; the labels that the woman spat with venom were ones that she wore with pride.

"And there we go, that should do it," said the first Master. He stepped away from the woman.

"Activate the implant," he said.

Slave quickly moved to the console beside the operating table the woman was on and typed in the commands to activate the implant, her hands moving across the keyboard as a blur of motion. She need only be shown an action once before she could accurately replicate it, even if she didn't understand what was happening.

The woman on the table let out a blood-curdling scream and Slave shuddered. The most primal part of her brain was, despite what the Masters had done to her, recoiling from the sound. It was the sound of pure terror and pain. Slave shook her head slightly, berating that small feeling in the back of her mind. She was a Slave and soon the woman on the table would be just like her.

The first Master watched the woman intently until she passed out. The computer in front of her beeped and Slave turned to look at it.

"Master there is an error message," said Slave.

The first Master looked up. "Really? What is it?" he asked.

"The error is Flag B," said Slave, reading the message on the screen.

The first Master's eyes widened and then looked down at the woman.

"Well damn, I was looking forward to working on this one," he said.

Walking away from the table the first Master went to his desk and picked up the phone.

"Get down here," he said and then threw the thing back into its cradle. Stomping over, he pushed Slave out of the way to take her place in front of the computer.

"Slave, go to the cabinet and get a bottle labeled potassium chloride," said the first Master, not looking away from the display.

Slave obediently went to the cabinet and retrieved the correct bottle. Holding it, Slave went back to stand next to the table where the woman was. For the next several minutes she let her mind go blissfully blank as she waited for her next order to service the Master.

The elevator doors on the far side of the room opened and the Mistress, as Slave had learned to call her, walked out, her high heels clicking on the floor and a scowl on her face.

"What, Jon?" she asked addressing the Master.

"That condition we found in the slave that got away, the one that Belial set? I found another," he said and pointed at the woman on the table.

The Mistress looked down at the woman and then back at the Master.

"Get rid of her," she said.

"You don't want me to experiment and see what the flag is? I'm implanting her with the newest BCI; she was supposed to be my second test subject. Whatever the flag that Belial set is, it can't affect my implants," said the Master.

"I don't care. We are not risking it. You know as well as I do that although you made a new hardware version, the software is still based on Belial's work and that could be the issue. Get rid of her," said the Mistress.

The Master nodded and stood up, sighing.

"Slave?" he said and held out his hand.

Slave, pleased to serve, stepped forward and handed the bottle to the first Master.

Taking a syringe off of his tray, the first Master stuck it into the bottle and pulled the plunger out, filling the barrel. Going over to the IV hanging next to the woman on the table, the first Master pulled out the bag. Holding the thin line still connected to the woman, he put the needle inside and depressed it, injecting her.

Slave watched this process with the same detachment she did all of the other medical procedures she saw the first Master perform.

The bound woman's eyes snapped open. Instead of the blood-curdling scream from before, all the woman did was let out a faint whimper before her eyes rolled back in their sockets. Slave glanced over at the medical readouts.

"Vitals are falling Master, should this Slave apply aid?" she asked, talking out of turn only as the life of the patient, the future Slave to be, was at risk. It was one of the few deviances from protocol she was expected to make.

"No," said the Master.

Slave nodded and turned back to the woman.

Slave watched and inside her mind something stirred for just a moment. The small part of her that felt like all of this was wrong when she was in her cage for the night, or when she thought of her True Master, stirred. For just a moment something felt wrong; the woman was dying and no one was helping.

Slave watched as the life drained away from the woman leaving nothing but wasted potential in its place.

--

*The True Master*

"What took you so long?" I asked.

The delivery guy glared at me for a moment then, remembering how much I was paying him, settled into a more neutral expression.

"The equipment was larger than expected. We had to get a second truck," he said.

I nodded and reaching out took the clipboard from him and signed the delivery receipt. The delivery was supposed to have been yesterday and they hadn't even called to say they were going to be late.

"Everything goes down into the basement. You can go around to the back of the house and through the doors there," I said.

The guy nodded and, taking the clipboard back from me, waved at his buddy still in the truck. The man climbed out and the two of them started to unload all of the equipment.

"Is all of this stuff going to fit in the basement?" I asked Dr. Song.

She nodded, "If I can use that unfinished area."

"So you make friends with a Doctor and buy all this stuff for her. Can I get stuff too?" asked Jeremy as he sidled up to stand next to me, a bag of chips from my cupboard in his hands.

"No," I said.

"Why not?" he asked pouting.

"Because I still own the equipment. If Dr. Song or you are able to smuggle that," I pointed at the piece of equipment the two men were slowly extracting from the truck. It was taking up nearly the entire width and judging by the amount of effort it took to even move, it was heavy. "Without anyone noticing, you're welcome to it."

I turned back to Dr. Song. "What is that?" I asked pointing at the truck.

"Infusion therapy equipment, blood analysis equipment, correct EEG equipment, PCA pumps, monitors, and respiratory assistance machines," said Dr. Song.

"Are you expecting someone to need critical care?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Better to have and not need than to need and not have."

"That's what my father always said," I grumbled.

"Smart man then," said Dr. Song. Turning away, she followed the men as they dragged the equipment around the house to the outside staircase which led to the basement.

"Where the hell did you find her again?" asked Jeremy.

"Clinic."

"Huh. Alright," he said and took another fistful of chips from the bag before crunching down on them.

Reaching out, I took the bag away from him, "Why are you here?" I asked.

Jeremy reached out and snatched the bag back, "I'm curious about the contents of that drive, and you have food," he said.

Jeremy had made his way back to the Lodge last night. For some reason it had taken him a few days to travel what would have been a few hours' drive.

"What makes you think I'm going to tell you?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"I haven't broken the encryption on it yet, and my servers are still slowly rewriting the control systems for that building you broke into. In a few more days I'll have complete control over the data and operations of those servers," I said.

He nodded, "Great. What's that do again?"

"I can use their own machines against them to have more power to hack into the Company servers and data networks. So far all I've got is inventory lists and data for basic products. Nothing really that special," I said.

He shrugged again. "Fun. Will I have another job soon? I can always find other jobs back in Seattle and I need the money," said Jeremy as he reached into the bag and took out another obscene amount of chips to shove into his face.

"Yes, another server farm. This one is a little further away. I'll give you a bonus for travel, and you can keep whatever you don't spend," I said.

"Great, what's the trio making for lunch?" he asked.

"They are making something for themselves, me, and Dr. Song. I wasn't aware you were going to be staying," I said.

"Well I'll go tell them," said Jeremy and he sauntered off.

I shook my head at his retreating form. I was not that annoying at his age. I probably had been but still, I liked to think I wasn't that much of an asshole.

Following Jeremy inside, I shrugged off my jacket and hung it up, then went into the kitchen. The Lodge was always kept warm in contrast to the temperatures outside by virtue of many of its inhabitants not particularly liking clothing.

"Out!" Helen swung a frying pan at Jeremy and the young thief barely managed to avoid getting hit in the head with it.

"Hey!" he shouted as she lined up another swing.

"Here's your lunch!" she said and winding her arm back she chucked the pan at him. Jeremy again dodged and the metal pan flew across the room hitting the floor with a loud clang. I winced and glanced down at the floor. Thankfully it looked like the ceramic tiles could take some punishment.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Jeremy turned to me, a small smile on his face. "I told them I wanted a sandwich for lunch!"

It took me a moment but then I groaned. "Jeremy I think she should get another chance to throw crockery at you."

Helen turned and hefted the cast iron skillet, preparing to throw it.

"Helen!" I said.

She pouted for a moment but lowered the pan.

"Jeremy can you please try not to antagonize them? The things on the backs of their necks make them strong enough to break any of your bones in an instant," I said.

He frowned, "You're making that up," he said.

I shrugged, "Maybe. Maybe not."

Jeremy stared at me for a moment and then rolled his eyes, "Damn, I'm not playing poker with you. I can't tell if you're joking or not," he said.

I smiled slightly, "Go help the Doctor unpack or something," I said, pointing out the window to where Dr. Song was yelling and directing the two delivery men as they moved the equipment down into the basement.

Jeremy sighed and, ignoring me, went and flopped down on the couch in the living room.

"I still say she's a mad scientist," said Kate as she joined me in looking out at the Doctor.

"What's that make me then?" I asked Kate.

She rolled her eyes and I continued, "I've checked up on her history. She's been known to do things against the grain, but never when she thought it would do harm to the patient," I said.

"So what? She's a soap opera doctor then? Immigrated to the USA and got rid of the accent, overcame adversity and became a doctor, only to not be recognized for her genius and then fired?" said Kate.

I chuckled, "No. She was born here, and her parents were well off. And unlike the soap operas, not following procedure, even if it does save someone's life, gets you fired."

"How did you do a background check on her?" asked Kate.

"The police in this state really need to work on their network security," I said.

Kate groaned but didn't say anything else, instead moving to help Helen with lunch.

--

We were all at the table in the dining room of the Lodge, me, Marcus the Computer programmer-turned-brain computer chip hacker, with my three slaves. Kate, the woman with no memories of her past and to whom I had made the initial promise to fix, Taylor, the girlfriend of the first person who had tried to help me in fulfilling that promise and who had been kidnapped. She and Helen were both women I had saved from an abusive man. Jeremy, the thief who, after trying to rob me when I was unconscious, got his ass summarily beat down and dragged back to my house where I had then hired him, and the newest addition Dr. Song, who was the washed up Doctor working in a clinic who had agreed to help as well.

Looking at the table I was once again struck by how difficult this was going to be, taking down a multinational corporation worth at least a few hundred billion.

"Uhhh," I trailed off, not sure what else to say.

"This is weird," said Jeremy. He turned to Dr. Song, "So he told you what the things in their necks are?" he asked.

Dr. Song, not happy that I had dragged her up here to have lunch with everyone else instead of being able to play with her machines, just nodded.

"Why does she get to know?" asked Jeremy, turning around to me.

"Because she's working on getting rid of them," I said.

Jeremy muttered something under his breath and then, apparently realizing that whining was going to get him nowhere, dug into the food in front of him like someone who had been starved for days.

I rolled my eyes and turned to Dr. Song.

"Did you get everything you needed?" I asked.

"Yeah, you didn't have to order duplicates of everything though," she said.

"I'm probably going to be disassembling some of it to try and figure out a way of dampening the chips, canceling out the effects in some way, so a few spares won't hurt any," I said.

"So that's why you got those microwave stimulators? They are still at the lab testing stage with rats. Where did you find a human sized unit?" asked Dr. Song.

"China is always a few steps ahead in research like that. Not that they publish the results of course, but the tech still ends up on the black market in the deep web," I said.

"It's probably for the best. Those microwave emitters could melt someone's brain if improperly calibrated," said Dr. Song.

"You use me as a test subject and I burn this place down," growled Jeremy.

I smiled, "We'd need a brain to test on. That rules you out," I said.

Jeremy chuckled and continued eating his food, ignoring the insult.

"Well if that's all, I'm going to get back to work," said Dr. Song. She stood up with her plate of food still mostly full, only a few small bites out of it.

"Did you not like my cooking? I can make something else," said Helen.

"What? Uh, no. I'm not hungry at the moment."

She took the plate over to the sink and dumped it inside, then quickly stomped back down the stairs to the basement and her lab.

I glanced back at Kate and the others, "She's eager to play with her toys," I said.

They nodded and turned back to their own meals.

Taking a few more bites of mine, I cleared my plate and followed Dr. Song down to the lab.

--

February 23 2016:

Tightening the restraints, I looked at the three slaves on the bed in front of me, Kate in the middle with Helen and Tracy to either side, all three of them naked and bound to the bed on their backs with black leather straps.

They were all looking at me as I tightened the last strap around Helen's ankle, lust and a small amount of fear in their eyes. I could have ordered them to remain still, but having them struggle vainly against the restraints seemed a little more appropriate.

Making sure that the last strap was on tight, I straightened back up and looked down at them, "Well, the three of you seem to be in a bind."

Kate sighed, "Master."

"I couldn't resist," I said smiling as I leaned over them.

Reaching for the bedside table, I retrieved the bottle of lotion and snapped it open. Pouring some of its contents into my hand, I put my hand down on Tracy's stomach. She gasped and I heard the leather groan as she struggled against the restraints.

"Master!" she gasped.

I started moving my hand in slow circles to spread the clear oil over her skin which was giving her a wonderfully slick look. Moving around her skin I avoided her nipples and more intimate bits, teasing her by slowly inching closer and closer to them but never actually touching them.

Once finished spreading the oil across her skin, I took my hands away for a moment and smiled.

"The mint should start to tingle in a moment."

Tracy's eyes widened and I waited for the oil to have its effect. I knew when it started because I could feel the sensation building up on my hands. It was a pleasant prickling that, even confined to a small portion of my skin, was distracting.

Tracy moaned and her eyes rolled back in her head as she once again strained against the leather straps.

Wiping my hands off, I collected the rest of the ensemble from the bedside table and quickly slipped the blindfold onto Tracy's head. When she opened her mouth to complain I quickly put the gag in place and slipped the noise-canceling headphones onto her head leaving her alone in her own skin with only her sense of touch to focus on, which was at this moment enflamed by the lotion.