tagNonConsent/ReluctanceLife Sentence Ch. 05

Life Sentence Ch. 05


There are some very strange businesses in California. Places that cater to the sex industry in various discrete ways. One of the first things I had done after I bought her was to take Penny to a shop that specialised in all sorts of spy equipment, for private eyes, voyeurs and people who wanted to keep an eye on their servants. They also did a no-questions-asked service of inserting subcutaneous tracking devices in slaves.

I had also made use of several medical services that specialised in private treatment of sex and bondage related injuries. I had most of Penny's tattoos lasered, her scars abraded and smoothed, skin grafts where necessary, and surgical repair to her torn nipple and ruined vagina and anus. Her teeth had been in a dreadful state, and her hands and feet bore damaged nails. Her skin and hair had not taken too long to improve, but all in all it had cost a fair bit.

Thinking about it I recalled that in the course of all this medical treatment it had been established that she was now sterile. There was evidence that she had been pregnant at least once, but the scarring from physical abuse and damage from various STD's made it more than just unlikely she would ever get pregnant again.

Penny had not mentioned pregnancy in her tale, and I wondered about that. I would ask her later.

But for now we were in the car on the way to do some clothes shopping and I thought it best to remind her of the implant. "You realise that I can only bring you out like this because of the tracker device you have. You remember about it, don't you?" I said to her "That device is for your safety you know. I am not sure that The Committee trusts me. They tolerate sentiment from 'Gentlemen' members, but not in Players or Reps. By showing them that I have you tracked at all times they will be happy enough if I let you out on your own. They know I can fetch you back if you get lost. They could also simply ask for the frequency and the code- they could use it to find you if they wanted to. I just thought I should remind you. "

"Thank you, Master. I had forgotten, but I wasn't thinking of running away. It is good to know you can find me if I get lost."

"Yes, well," I said, discomfited by this remark, "Now let's get you some decent clothes."

I had not paid much attention to what I had got her to wear in the last few months. After the surgery I had thought loose clothing would be best, and all I really wanted was something to cover her up. So I had bought a load of jogging suits and basic underwear and tee-shirts, and that had been her daily attire.

Now I was going to take her out in public, so I needed to do something to make her look less like a care home inmate.

Always start with the foundations, they say, so I had her try on various pieces of lingerie to show me. It was the first time I had seen her that uncovered in some months. There was a big change in her.

When I bought her she was a dreadful mess, ill fed, unkempt and covered in scars, marks, bruises, boils, tattoos and burns. While some marks remained, and some scars, she was now at least fit and trim, her skin in generally good condition, with an all over tan, and her hair was glossy. Her hands were soft and manicured, and she had a little light make-up.

When she came out of the changing booth in a white lace bra and high cut knickers I gave a genuine whistle of appreciation.

"Ok," I said "we'll take those. Show me something else."

Penny preened.

For the next half hour or so she paraded outfit after outfit, and did so in a very sexy fashion. I was amazed, as well as pleased.

Then we went on to dresses, tops, skirts, a suit, tight jeans and tee-shirts, shoes and accessories. It cost a fortune, but it was well worth it. She looked great, and her confidence grew with each outfit.

I liked that. A long time ago I realised that I didn't like adult dogs because they are servile. I felt the same way about women. Penny had been abused so badly she had lost all will of her own, and that had been both disturbing and slightly disgusting.

Now she was more alive, and while I sensed she was keen to please, she was less nervous about it. It wasn't fear of me, or general servility. She seemed happy.

I had to return to work, so I sent her home in the car with instructions for the driver to pick me up later.

My work is unusual. I look after things. My boss, (The Boss, as I refer to him, because he would kill me if I named him) is a very rich man. He owns hotels, a computer parts company, two yachts, a private jet, an island in the Caribbean, and usually six or ten girls at a time. Of course his legitimate business staff don't deal with the girls. I look after that.

I organise the sex parties (sometimes with Joe Hollywood to help). I trade the girls at Meetings. I help him find and seduce girls, organise romantic events or people like Jana and Chris to help with the seduction. I make his complex sex life work. I have a wide range of contacts with people in the sex industry, and more shady characters. If someone needs to be supplied with the right powder or needs a sudden trip abroad without bothering those nice people at customs, or any missing persons agency, I look after it.

I am well paid, and the fringe benefits are good. I live in a penthouse suite in a one of The Boss's hotels, with full service. When I travel it is usually by private plane, and five star accommodation all the way. Until now I never thought I was a bad guy.

I had to sort out flights for the trip to The Meeting. This time it was in Thailand. I needed to get several of The Boss's girls together, from Jamaica, New York, and Seville as well as arrange for myself and Penny. I would have to brief her on what to do as well, of course. I knew the etiquette. Slaves had to be identifiable as such. I would have to get her a collar, or wrist bands, or something.

On my way home I thought of what would happen to the girls when I sold them. I had never really thought of that before. I wasn't comfortable.

Penny was wearing one of the outfits we had bought. She had organised to have the table set, and a cocktail ready for me - a Moscow Mule, one of my favourites.

She offered to order dinner, and to run a bath for me. It was a little bizarre. After months of her silent passive presence, suddenly here was a quite lively young woman being helpful and considerate.

I went for a bath after glancing at the menu, and lay in the warm water thinking.

If I quit, what could I do? I had money in the bank, could comfortably retire, and as long as The Committee didn't feel I was a threat, I could live out my life with Penny as a companion and maybe personal assistant for ever.

But what would I do? What should I do?

Penny came in with a top up for the Mule. She took the soap and began to rub my shoulders and back. I let her wash me, and massage me as she did so. She was working on my feet when I finally said "You are very good at that."

"Thank you Master."

"Can you type? Use a computer? Take shorthand?"

She shook her head "Not shorthand, but I can use a computer and type a bit. I used one in school, but I didn't do secretarial stuff."

I asked her "Would you like to learn?"

"If it would be useful to you, Master"

"Hmmm." I said. "Before all this happened to you, you must have had ideas about what you were going to do with your life. I suspect that being a secretary wasn't among them. What did you want to do?"

Penny looked pensive, and a little distressed for a moment, before saying "Before my mother died I had wanted to go to university to study French, and become a teacher. But that was just because Mum was a teacher, and we holidayed in France every year. I really don't know now. But I would like to help you, if I can. Not just because you, well, own me. I realised yesterday when I had told you my story that my life has changed. I, I... "

She stuttered to silence.

"What were you going to say?" I asked.

"Forgive me Master, I was forgetting myself ."

"Now Penny, none of that. Tell me what you were thinking."

She glanced at me and I was saddened to see a little fear in her look, but she spoke quietly "I trust you, Master. You are not like the others. You bought me because you were sorry for me, without knowing anything about me. I know I am a slave. I know I will never be free, that The Circle cannot be broken and The Committee cannot be avoided. But I believe that you will look after me. I am safe. And you deserve my service. Because you are a good man."

I looked at her for several seconds then, taking this in, reading her expression. She meant it. She was a willing servant, not a beaten slave. And she thought I was a good man? I had to question that. "Penny, I helped The Boss seduce you. I arranged the party where I had sex with you and so did twenty other guys, and you were sold to Joe. I know what Joe does, I have worked with him for years. How can you think I am a good man?"

"Because you didn't know what would happen to me. You didn't sell me on to a brothel in Mexico or a drug dealer in New York. You bought me to keep me from a man who would have done bad things to me. You said he was a bondage and torture film maker. Okay, The Boss fooled me, and Hollywood Joe used me and manipulated me, but right up to the point where he chained me up I could have left. I could have walked away. I didn't have to take on Mr Handsome, or do threesomes with Marsha, or Jana, or Chris. I did those things because they were fun. You aren't to blame."

"But you know what I do." I said "You know I am going to this Meeting to sell women, and buy others. I'm part of that trade. And you are offering to help me."

She was thoughtful then. Eventually she said in a quiet voice "Yes, Master. But you still mean well. You look after the girls you buy for The Boss. You hope the ones you sell go to good masters. You cannot free them, you cannot stop the trade. You help them. And I saw it that you were disgusted by what had happened to me. You were turned on when I told you the sexy stories at the start, but not by the stories later on. There are some men who would be excited by those stories. You were not. And you were not disgusted by me. You were understanding. That's when I knew I could trust you. You don't want to own me, and you never really treat me as if you do own me."

I thought about that. "I suppose you are right, a bit. But I have demanded you do things in the past. I made you give me blow jobs."

"Yes. But not like an owner. Not like a john in in a brothel. I wasn't even a human being to them."

"So if I ordered you to jump in this tub and ride me until I came, right now, you would do it, because you are grateful, and you wouldn't feel used?"

Penny looked down and blushed, she said softly "If you wanted me to do that I would be happy to do it. I have been horny since last night, and when you whistled at me this morning... Did you mean it?"


Penny stood up and started to strip. She did it in a straightforward way, not camping it up, not playing, but keeping eye contact with me. It was very sexy. She stepped into the tub and put her hands on my shoulders to steady herself. Her breasts were right before my eyes. On the right the dark sun tattoo highlighted her nipple, on the left I noticed the nipple looked almost perfect - the repair had been a success. I kissed it.

Penny breathed in sharply. She held her position while I sucked on it gently, then transferred to the tattooed side.

She shuddered. She dropped a hand to take my cock, which was fully erect, and guide it into herself. She went slowly, dropping down, her breasts slipping over my wet chest. She took just the tip in at first, then a little more, rising and falling, pushing down slowly, her breathing deep and throaty, her cheek against mine.

When she had settled all the way down she shuddered again, and dropped her chin to my shoulder. She whispered "Thank you Master."

I managed to say "What for?"

She rode up and slid down again, and at back to look at me. "For wanting me. No one has wanted me in a long time. For being the first." She pushed down. "The first since my operation."

I has forgotten that, and asked "Are you ok?"

She laughed "Oh yes. All fine. How is it for you?"

"Good. Very good." I said and then grunted as she squeezed me.

"I have been doing my exercises every day."

I could feel her grip as she pulled up. "Good girl." I said.

She almost giggled with girlish delight, and said "Oh thank you Master."

She grabbed my face and kissed me, then looked at me in surprise. I thought it was probably a long time since she had done that. I leaned to kiss her back, a friendly kiss, reassuring her that I was not offended. She turned it into something with passion, and began to ride me seriously.

The bath was not large enough. When Penny leaned back there was nowhere for her legs to go. I looked at her struggling and said "Out, let's go to the bed."

I lifted her off me, and climbed out after her, and chased her into the bedroom. I caught her by the bed and swung her round to land on it open legged. Her hairy pussy was just in front of me, and I bent my head to lick it. She was instantly breathless.

There is nothing to compare to the taste of a clean pussy. In between flicking her clit with my tongue and licking her up and down, I used my fingers to gently probe her. I knew she had needed a lot of work to repair her there, and I could feel a scar line inside her, but she was wet and responsive and tight enough, and tasted fresh and sweet. She screamed as she came.

I moved up to hold her and she grabbed me fiercely, saying "Please take me, take me again, Master"

I easily slid into her, and her hips rose to meet me. She kissed me as I began to shaft her deeply, going for my own orgasm, feeling her arms and legs around me, her tits against my chest, her hands pulling me down into her, her pulsing, clenching pussy on my cock. This was no mechanical fuck, not even a fun ride, for her this was desperate longing, absolute submission, open and free passion of a sort I have never known. This girl wanted me, wanted me to come in her, wanted me to be inside her, wanted me to come in her, wanted to give me herself. It was an intoxicating feeling. I had power over his girl, not just her body but all of her being, and I was fucking her deeply, making her come, driving her breathing and her heart, my cock was the centre of her existence, my orgasm would be an act of final possession.

I came in her.

Sometimes when I come it is all over in a flash. But sometimes, when I am relaxed and with a woman I can trust enough to let go, it can reduce me to a quivering, panting, crying heap. It doesn't happen often. It happened then.

I don't know what I said. I know she held me and caressed me, and rocked me gently. I was adrift on a soft sea of naked flesh, warmth and affection. As I came back to reality I found myself dragging myself up onto my elbows, looking down on her. She was smiling.

"Thank you, Penny."

"Thank you, Master."

"You mean that, don't you?" I asked. "Not just the thanks, but the 'Master' bit."

"Yes Master. I'm yours. Always."

I was strangely warmed by that, although unsure what to say. I settled for "Did you enjoy that?"

Penny smiled shyly. "Yes Master."

"Good. Now you must be starving, because I certainly am." I said.

She almost panicked, anxious that she had not anticipated my hunger, that she should have fed me first, had dinner waiting. I teased her a little, but not too much, until I rolled off her laughing and let her go to bring in the trolley the kitchen had sent up. She had ordered well, some of my favourite dishes, and we chatted as we ate.

The issue of the disparity in power in this relationship still caught me at times. I wanted to know more about her life before she came to Jamaica, and she chatted away about England, her absent father, her mother dying, the friends she had left, but every now and then she called me 'Master' and each time it slightly surprised me. However on thinking about it I realised that she did not overuse the 'M' word, and it was a natural part of her speech. She said it like she might say 'father' or 'lover' or 'husband'. To her it meant security, a strange freedom, a giving up of responsibility and worry.

I was the one who had to worry.

She slept in my bed that night.

I had thought I should send her to her room, but as we talked she had begun to massage my feet again, and then my legs and back and then when I got an erection again, she wanked me and sucked me and rode me, and sucked me again until I came, and she wrapped me in her arms and a duvet.

I woke in the dark and found her sleeping. I could not bring myself to wake her. I lay and worried for a while. She woke me in the morning with breakfast.

I had made decision.

Over breakfast I told her "I want out of this business. I can't do this any more."

She looked at me and said "But Master, you told me that The Committee were worried that when you bought me it was because you were going soft, that you were a security risk. If you leave The Boss now, won't they think the same thing?"

"Yes. Which is why I'm not doing it immediately. Maybe I can get The Boss to fire me for some other reason, something The Committee would understand. I could even apply to be a Player, then just drop away, not trade. But first we have to get through the next Meeting. We have to go, and I have to take you to the Red Room. They have to see that I treat you as a slave, that you know your place and they must believe that I am still one of them. Then I can figure out a way to quit."

"Master," she said with a tremor in her voice "I'm afraid to go back. I might let you down."

"You won't. I know how to play this, whatever you do I can work around. But you know I may have to be cruel. And I will have to put you in a collar again. And I had better get used to calling you 'slave'. So get your ass dressed slave, we are going shopping again."

"Yes, Master."

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