Romance Unbound Publishing
Presents
Slave Jade
(Formerly titled Kidnapped – Revised & Expanded)
by
Claire Thompson
Cover Design by Kelly Shorten
ISBN 978-1439200728
Copyright 2009 Claire Thompson
All rights reserved
Chapter 1
Master John: You deserve to be punished.
Sub Angel: (breathlessly) Yes, sir.
Master John: Bare your ass for my cane. Ten stripes for your disobedience.
Sub Angel: Please, sir, I’m frightened of the cane.
Master John: You should have thought of that when I found your hands in your panties. You know your body is my property. You belong to me. Your ass, your cunt, your mouth, your breasts—all of you is mine. I own you. You took what was mine. Now you’ll pay the price.
Sub Angel: I love you, Master John.
Master John: Then suffer for me.
Gilbert’s cock hardened nicely during the exchange with one of his online slave girls. He unzipped his jeans, slipping his hand into his underwear for a quick squeeze while Sub Angel typed about how hot he was making her.
He closed his eyes, imagining her bent and naked, her ass offered up to his rattan rod. He could almost hear the whistle of the cane as it landed, and her pleading sobs for him to stop. But he wouldn’t stop, not until he’d marked her properly, leaving ten perfectly straight horizontal lines across her ass and thighs.
Then she’d spread her legs for him and he’d slip his fingers into her sopping wet cunt. She would be soaked with desire, on fire from the cane, desperate for the feel of his huge cock thrust inside her. He would fuck her until she screamed, this time from pleasure. Women couldn’t get enough of Master John.
When Gilbert logged onto the BDSM chat site, he didn’t just pretend to be Master John, he became him. Master John was tall, with strong manly features. He had brown hair that fell in a sexy way over his forehead. His dark blue eyes looked kind, but his mouth was cruel, slightly curled in an ironic smile. It was the kind of picture women went nuts over. Master John’s picture was uploaded in the site’s profile section. Gilbert had found it in a magazine and claimed it as his own. He had received many unsolicited emails just from that picture alone.
Master John was selective. He demanded a lot from his online women. They had to be attentive and properly respectful. They had to be open and completely honest. They had to share and reveal their innermost secrets with him.
He opened his email, scrolling through the junk in search of correspondence from his slave girls. Girls he'd taken the time to cultivate, first just through easy banter and casual conversation, then slowly, once he'd gained their interest and confidence, through sexy talk and long, heartfelt emails.
Slave Jade was his latest obsession. He didn't know her real name yet, but he would. He had a way about him. He could enlist the trust of women who had never met him. He knew just how far to press, and when to back off. He took a real interest in their lives, and most especially their secrets and fantasies. He never tried to sell himself, preferring instead to draw out the woman, taking his time with her and showing he cared, but most definitely wasn't desperate.
He was, in a word, cool.
Slave Jade had promised a jpeg, and he had been anticipating her email all day, while he fit tired women and fidgety children with new shoes that four times out of five they didn’t even buy, cheating him out of the crummy commission he’d earned.
He scrolled through the inbox. Nothing from Slave Jade.
“Fuck.”
Master John slid away as Gilbert stared morosely at the walls of his empty efficiency apartment. The floor was littered with old food containers, dirty clothes and magazines. The twin bed in the corner was unmade. On it the rumpled sheets were a dismal gray. The kitchen table was covered in old junk mail and bills, but Gilbert didn't care. He never had people to the apartment, and he didn't eat at the table.
If he did eat at home, it was takeout, which he would prop next to his computer, taking bites of the pizza or Chinese food when it occurred to him. His refrigerator contained a bottle of ketchup and some bottled water. When he used a plate it was paper.
His surroundings were a matter of indifference to him. He didn't read books and he didn't listen to music. But there was one thing he cared about, more than anything in the world. His computer.
Ah, that computer. It was state of the art. He especially loved his new 30 inch flat screen monitor, excellent for viewing the photos of his slave girls. Gilbert's computer was worth more than his car. But it was worth every penny.
It was, quite literally, his life.
He was reasonably content to work as a shoe salesman by day. But at night, Gilbert was transformed. When his computer clicked out of hibernation, he actually felt himself changing. His face lost that polite vacuous expression it wore during the workday. His shoulders squared, his chin lifted and his eye got a curious gleam.
Gilbert was 5'8”, age twenty-four, with sandy blond hair and hazel eyes. He worked out with light weights every night before bed and could do a hundred pushups. It was a decent body and he kept it in good shape for someday…someday when he found the girl of his dreams.
Meanwhile he contented himself with his online persona, Master John. As a Dom, Master John was exacting, but loving. He demanded obedience, but he didn't abuse his power. This particular formula seemed to excite women, and he always had a pile of emails waiting for him when he logged on.
There was Slut Girl, a student and part-time waitress in real life who had submissive yearnings. Master John would guide her on virtual adventures in submission, always culminating with her climaxing at her keyboard, at his command.
Then there was Sub Angel. She loved to engage in complex scenes with him during chats. They would type back and forth until each was so aroused they had to take a break to jerk off. She would claim to be typing with one hand, the other buried in her pussy as Master John ordered her to come for him.
Gilbert liked to imagine one day he would meet one of these women. She would be so totally under his control by that point she wouldn't mind that he'd lied about most every aspect of himself.
Online the world opened up to him. He had dozens of opportunities to seek women worthy of his attentions, whom he could control and use to his heart’s, or rather his cock’s, content.
If only real life were so easy. Gilbert tried his luck at bars a few times, but it hadn't panned out. Occasionally he’d tried to strike up a pleasant conversation with a woman he'd fitted for shoes but generally he was met with indifference or even open hostility.
For some reason there was something about Gilbert women seemed to find off-putting. The frustrating thing was he didn't know what it was. He wasn't bad looking. He didn't have bad breath. He knew how to form a coherent sentence and he had a sense of humor, albeit a rather acerbic one.
Maybe it was the desperate vibe.
Someone in high school had once said that to him and it had stuck in his craw ever since. Brandy Jenkins. The girl he'd spent over a month working up the nerve to ask to the prom. She wasn't the most popular girl, or the nicest. Gilbert was a realist, and thought at least with her he might have a fighting chance.
“No thanks,” Brandy said in an offhand way, after he'd delivered his carefully prepared invitation speech. He remembered he was almost sick from nervousness and his voice shook but he'd gotten through the speech.
They were standing at their lockers, and she barely looked at him as he spoke, shoving her books in her locker and checking her face in the small mirror she had hung on the inside of her locker door.
After the casual refusal, she started to walk away. On an impulse
he grabbed her arm. “But why!” he'd almost shouted. And again, more quietly, but no less urgent, “Why? I'm not a leper. What's the deal? I know no one else has asked you yet. Why not me?”
“If you really want to know,” she said, as she shook her arm free from his grasp. “You give off that desperate vibe. No girl wants to be seen with a desperate guy. Unless, of course, it’s a pity date. I don't do pity dates.”
With a flounce of her rather mousy brown hair, she was gone, hailing some girlfriends down the hall, no doubt rushing to giggle with them over Gilbert’s pathetic bid for her attentions.
He had plotted his revenge for weeks. He would kidnap Brandy and keep her hostage in his room. He'd keep her tied and gagged in his closet while he was at school, and take her out at night to fuck until she begged for mercy. Of course, in his fantasy, she ended up falling in love with him, because he fucked her so good she couldn't get enough.
He’d dated over the years since high school, but his heart had never been truly engaged. Perhaps it was fear, or just that he’d never met the right woman. For whatever reason, he kept himself aloof and under control. He was damned if he’d let another woman reject him. Mostly he kept to himself.
Master John, on the other hand, was open and vulnerable, though still strong and secure. He would drop details of a made-up life that included a mother who had died of cancer when he was fourteen. A difficult age for a boy to lose his mother. In fact, Gilbert's mother lived in Connecticut, but he hadn't seen her since he'd dropped out of college, and rarely thought about her.
Master John loved his mother, and when she'd died, he'd taken it hard, acting out in school and experimenting with marijuana and sex. His dad had begun dating a number of women much younger than himself, one of whom seduced young John, exposing him to the pleasure of women at an early age.
Details like his summer home in Florida, his Lexus, paying for the summer camp and music lessons for his nephew, would occasionally accidentally slip into his conversation. When the interested girl he was cultivating would try to pursue it, he would modestly change the subject, skillfully bringing it back around to her.
One of his favorite exercises was to have his online girl write to him at length about her childhood and teenage sexual fantasies. Some of them claimed not to have any, but Master John was patient and slowly he would tease it out of them.
Something about sharing such personal sexual secrets seemed to make these girls trust Master John in a way they wouldn't have if they had just engaged in adult sex play in the chat rooms. He would act on this deepening trust, coaxing them to share more and more of themselves.
After a time he would drop subtle hints and instruction, encouraging them to explore what were actually his fantasies, though he would make it seem as if it were their own. One of his favorites harkened back to high school days—to the abduction and forced servitude of his personal sex slave.
Gilbert refreshed his email, but nothing from Slave Jade appeared. Today she was to have sent a picture of her bare breasts. It had been nearly a month since they’d begun to chat and correspond. Master John never allowed women to send him sexy pictures at first. As he intended, this upset and even embarrassed certain girls, who were chagrined he didn't want to see them naked right away.
He would discourage them, gently explaining he wanted to know them first. He wanted to establish a real connection—to find the spiritual link before they explored the sexual. He liked that particular phrase and used it often. And to women used to men panting over them from the instant they logged on, it was refreshing, and for some, a challenge.
Slave Jade had passed the first test with flying colors. She hadn't tried to send him anything too sexy. She had complied when he asked for a face shot. And what a sweet face! It was oval-shaped, with pretty dark almond-shaped eyes. She had dark thick hair that fell in loose waves to her shoulders. Her lips were luscious. Full and pouty, with just a hint of lipstick. At age twenty-two, she wasn't covered in makeup like so many of the women he saw at the mall. She was natural and her skin looked soft and fresh.
He had taken advantage of her vulnerability over her recent breakup with her boyfriend, by at first just being there as a friend and confidant. Later he had teased out her submissive fantasies. After all, she had logged onto a BDSM chat site, so she could hardly pretend otherwise.
Slave Jade had insisted she was merely curious, and he had gone with this, taking the time to discuss the sensual and loving aspects of a D/s relationship.
That he was quoting heavily from online articles he'd read on the subject, pasting in entire sections verbatim, didn't trouble him at all. Let her think he was a master on the subject.
Make no mistake, Master John wasn't seeking a relationship that might lead to something real. He didn't delude himself that these online fantasy girls would really be interested in Gilbert Johnson. No, he contented himself with honing Master John's skills and enjoying the virtual fruits of his labor.
Too often, it seemed, he was so successful that the women he dommed began to be demanding and needy, requiring more and more of his attentions, even pressing to meet in real life. He would be forced to pull back then, to let them go.
But Slave Jade was different. She was sexy and submissive, without being pathetic and needy. She was good at engaging in their sexy banter and cyber-play, without getting possessive of him, or demanding too much attention. And she was beautiful.
So he had gone the next step, asking her for a photo of her bare breasts, as a sign of her submission to him. She had said she would take one with her digital camera and send it to him tonight.
So where was it?
As if on cue, he saw her log on at the BDSM chat site, her screen name lighting up to indicate she was now online.
Master John: Slave Jade, where is that picture you promised?
Slave Jade: Master John! There you are. I was looking for you. I can't stay on long, because I'm going out, but I wanted to let you know I hadn't been able to take the picture yet. My camera battery died. I'll be sure and send it tomorrow!
Master John: That's not acceptable, Slave Jade.
Gilbert felt somewhat mollified by her explanation. At least she hadn't been ignoring him.
Master John: You'll need to be punished, you know. He inserted a smiley face emoticon to indicate he was teasing, though he wasn't.
Slave Jade: Yes Master John. Slave Jade inserted a blushing smiley face to show her own contrition. He had encouraged her fantasy of being punished for sexual infractions, and he made the most of it.
Master John: I’ve decided it's time to take another step in our relationship, fair one.
Gilbert’s heart was beating harder now. He was going to take a risk—take the step that sometimes sent the girls running. He was going to demand something in real life. But he thought Slave Jade was ready.
Master John: Jade, it's important for you to understand that when I ask you to do something, you do it. You don't provide excuses. You find a way to comply, and if you don't, you prepare yourself to take the consequences. Am I clear on this?
Slave Jade: Yes, sir.
Gilbert’s fingers shook as he typed his next words.
Master John: Good. Now, your punishment. I want you to take a ruler and pull down your panties, and swat your pussy for me. Three times. Hard. Then you will take the picture I asked for and send it to me. If I don't have it by tomorrow morning, you will be banned. Understood?
There was no response. Had he gone too far? Maybe she wasn't ready. But then the words scrolled across the screen.
Slave Jade: Yes, sir.
He logged off quickly, to avoid having her be the first to leave. Where was Slave Jade going? I can't stay on long, because I'm going out… Of course Master John hadn't asked. Gilbert knew better than to appear too interested in her other life.
Unable to help himself, he fantasized and fumed that she'd already found a new boyfriend. He would take her to the movies and out for pizza. She would be wearing the pre
tty red blouse she wore in the photo he had of her as background on his desktop.
Shaking his head, Gilbert decided to put her out of his mind for now. He'd chat instead with Sex Kitten and forget about Slave Jade until tomorrow.
The next morning Gilbert opened his email. There it was. A message with attachment from Slave Jade.
Eagerly he opened it, barely reading the apology over being late. They would talk later. Clicking on the paperclip, he watched the picture load and open.
There she was, spread out on his 30” monitor, bigger than life. Her face was sweet as ever, topping a long slender neck, and two round breasts with adorable pink nipples capping each one.
She was perfect. He immediately made it his desktop background, spending a few minutes moving his icons around so they didn't impede the view of those lovely breasts. He stared it for a long minute.
Of all the girls who had sent him pictures, he found Jade's the loveliest. She looked so innocent, her eyes wide and smiling, her lips curved up sweetly, her head tilted slightly, as if she was shy about the pose she presented.
He longed to lean over and lick and bite her perky nipples. If only she were real. Sighing, he stood from his computer, idly kicking the dirty underwear out of his way. If he didn't get going, he'd be late for work. He left his apartment, the image of Slave Jade smiling gently at him from his computer.
~*~
When Gilbert got home the first thing he did was sit down and open Slave Jade’s email. He’d been so distracted by her luscious breasts before that he hadn't taken the time to properly read it. He clicked opened the message and sat back.
Dear Master John, I hope you like the picture. I had to take several because it kept going off before I could get in position. Obviously, I couldn't ask anyone to take that pose. (blush!)
Slave Jade Page 1
