by Nicola Diaz
The judge stared at her coldly, unmoved. “Mr. Grevel, the court finds in your favor. As Ms. Star is unable to pay the fees, you may accept her as a slave until she is able to pay off those fees, or you can refuse and she will be remanded to custody, then offered at auction. What is your choice?” He sounded bored.
Jenna couldn’t believe it! All she’d done was snag one of Lawrence Grevel’s undeveloped ideas. She’d doctored it up a bit, then sold off the rights to the development project, making a tidy profit from it. She’d been doing the same thing for years. She’d get information about an unfinished project, rebrand it with a few minor tweaks, then sell it off to the highest bidder. It was an easy way to make a good living. OK, it was technically illegal. She’d gotten out of lawsuits before.
She’d hired the best lawyers, but Lawrence just dumped more and more money into the case, dragging it on until she had no more left. Now this. Slavery? That was for college students who couldn’t pay back their loans!
The judge was droning on about something and Jenna shook herself out of her thoughts in time to hear his final pronouncement. “Settled. Jenna Star, you are to be remanded into the custody of Lawrence Grevel for a period equivalent to one year as a slave in his household. Bailiff, please escort Ms. Star to the Mediator’s office for contract negotiations. Mr. Grevel, please attend at the Mediator’s office as well.”
He banged his gavel and that was that. Jenna stood woodenly as the bailiff cuffed her. She looked at her lawyers, one just shrugged, the other looked away, embarrassed. Across the room, Lawrence Grevel was still sitting, looking at her with a smug expression on his face. Jenna seethed. She’d find a way to get him back.
In the Mediator’s office, she was presented with a standard slave contract for 8,765 hours. However long it took her to reach those hours was up to her and Lawrence. She signed the hours agreement, then waited for him to arrive so they could negotiate the particulars.
“I will accept nothing less than 24/7 for one year,” his voice boomed as soon as he walked in the door. “And I expect the classification of personal slave.” His grin was downright predatory, “If that’s not acceptable to Ms. Star, perhaps she’d rather go up for auction. I assure you, I will bid higher than anyone, and I will win. And then what will you do? You’d have to pay off the original fees, plus any excess from the auction. You’re in a no-win situation, Jenna.”
Jenna looked to the Mediator, hoping for help, but the woman shrugged, “He’s right. He can set the terms. If you don’t like them, you go to open auction.”
Grudgingly, Jenna agreed. Personal slave meant he could do anything he wanted with her, short of permanent harm. She looked at his smug face and figured he wasn’t about to take that all the way. Besides, the contract said she had to do the time, it didn’t mean she had to actually obey him. She could get away with half-assing it. She’d find someone else in his household to take up the slack. She picked up the pen and signed.
The Mediator witnessed their signatures and handed the stamped contract to Lawrence. Jenna turned to the man who was, for all intents and purposes, her owner for the next year. “Well, now what?” She fired off in a snarky tone.
His smug smile turned to ice and his eyes narrowed. His voice was pure steel, “Watch your tone.” He turned away from her and gave instructions to another man who was with him, thanked the Mediator and left.
“According to the terms, Ms. Star,” the Mediator was saying, “you have 24 hours to put things in order before reporting to Mr. Grevel’s residence. Failure to report on time is considered breach of contract and you will be arrested and placed at auction, accruing additional fees.”
Jenna went home in a stunned state. She took the rest of the day to close her accounts and let her business associates know what was going on. She had to give notice on her apartment as well. She couldn’t pay the year of rent, and they wouldn’t hold it for her. She wasn’t about to tack that fee on to the slave contract. That’s how people wound up in big trouble. They just kept tacking on more and more charges, landing themselves even deeper in debt.
She showed up at the Grevel residence exactly on time, not even seconds early. A butler escorted her through the house to a large, sunny library and instructed her to wait. After several long minutes, an older woman entered, Jenna guessed she had to be the housekeeper.
“I’m Mrs. French,” the woman announced. “I am housekeeper and head of staff here at the Manor. Please follow me.” The woman walked away and headed up the sweeping staircase. “Staff normally stay in the west wing, but as you are Mr. Grevel’s personal slave, he has instructed that you be placed in the room adjoining his. Your bags are being placed in storage, you will be provided appropriate clothing. You may go there later to retrieve any medication, personal items, and other things of that nature after you have settled into your room. Breakfast is daily at eight, lunch is at one, and dinner is seven. You are expected to be in attendance at all of the meals, properly dressed.”
She opened the door on a large room with a huge four-poster, canopy bed. There was a giant closet, even larger bath, and then a locked door. “That leads to Mr. Grevel’s room,” the woman explained. “Aside from whatever duties Mr. Grevel assigns you, he has instructed that you be given a list of chores befitting your skills.”
It seemed like hours before Mrs. French finally left her to explore the space. She had two hours before she was due at lunch, and nothing to do in the meantime. Mrs. French had not yet assigned her any tasks, so she was on her own. The room was luxurious, rich and soft. Heavy velvet drapes and bed curtains, carved wood furniture. It was no wonder the creep was able to outspend her in court. She got mad all over again just thinking about it. She’d taken one of his ideas, it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford the loss of revenue!
A knock on the door made her jump, then a young girl entered leading a line of young, good looking men carrying boxes. “These are your things,” the girl announced as the men placed the boxes on the floor at the foot of the bed. “Make sure to put them away, Mr. Grevel doesn’t like clutter.”
Oh he doesn’t, does he? Jenna smiled to herself. She unpacked the boxes and spread their contents around the room, laying dresses and uniforms out on the bed, tossing towels and scarves over the big chaise in the corner. The shoes got strewn around the floor and the box of cosmetics got dumped unceremoniously on the bathroom counter.
She had just finished collapsing the last box when the door to his room burst open and Lawrence Grevel stood there glaring at her. She smiled at him, flipped her hair over her shoulder and stalked into the bathroom, “What? I’m your personal slave, it’s not like you can make me clean my room.”
“That’s two, Jenna. One for deliberately being obnoxious, and one for giving me sass. You might want to think about fixing at least one of those before lunch.”
He slammed the door shut. Jenna just shrugged. She planned to make his life a living hell. She had to be here, but she didn’t have to listen to him. She took a shower then picked through the clothing to find a suitable outfit. She settled on something that looked like lounge pajamas and even found matching slippers. She tucked her hair into a ponytail and made sure there wasn’t a speck of makeup on her face, then she headed to the dining room for lunch.
He was already at the table when she arrived, an empty place next to him. When she walked in, he looked her up and down, then nodded to the butler, who promptly cleared the empty place setting and removed the chair. “Jenna will not be taking lunch today, I’m afraid,” he announced when the butler returned. “It seems she is indisposed. Please have one of the girls escort her back to her room, I’ll attend to her later. Jenna,” his tone was pure evil. “That’s three.”
Back in her room, Jenna wondered about the brilliance of her plan. She was hungry, she’d skipped breakfast. She’d just made up her mind to go down to the kitchen and get something for herself when he walked in.
“What the fuck? You can’t starve me! This is cruel and unusual�
�” Jenna started in the moment he stepped through the door. The look on his face cut her off in mid sentence.
“First off, I have no intention of starving you, Jenna.” His voice was icy cold. He put a covered plate down on the table and pointed at the chair, “Sit. Now. Do not argue with me.” Jenna walked as slowly as she dared, uncertain what he had in mind.
“Your lunch is here. I believe you were given clear instructions about being properly attired at meals. If you think you can get away with misbehavior, Jenna, I’d think again. The contract limits me strictly to causing you no permanent harm. That’s pretty vague, don’t you think? Have you considered what I might elect to use as punishment for your behavior? Eat, clean yourself up, change into something more appropriate for at home during the day, and meet me in my study in one hour. Do not test me on this.”
He stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Jenna made a face at the door, then turned to the plate of food. He’d brought a feast of cheese, fruit, and a sandwich. After eating, she debated her clothing choices. She finally decided to be nice and selected a simple shift dress. She timed her arrival in his study so she was a few minutes past the hour he’d set.
“You’re late,” he didn’t even look up from his desk. “Sit over there,” he motioned to a chair off to the side. Jenna sat, looking around the large room filled with books. After several minutes, he rose and crossed to a small door between the bookcases, “Come with me.”
Jenna stood slowly and followed him as he walked through the door and into a wide, open room with beautiful hardwood floors and huge windows. Between the windows were floor to ceiling mirrors. “This used to be the ballroom,” he explained. “Now, it’s… well… you’ll see.”
He led Jenna to a sturdy looking chair and directed her to sit. Before she could ask what he had in mind, he’d latched leather cuffs over her wrists and tightened them down. Jenna tried to kick out, to push the chair away from him, but it was bolted to the floor and he easily caught her flailing legs and fastened them into cuffs as well.
She started to cuss at him, but the moment she opened her mouth, he stuffed a soft, knotted cloth between her teeth and tied it tightly behind her head. He caught her hair and held her head against the chair back while he fastened another cuff around her neck. Then he moved in front of her and fastened heavy straps over her chest, waist, hips and even thighs. She was effectively immobilized in the chair.
“Now,” he pulled up a chair to sit directly in front of her. “Perhaps we should go over the rules in this house. You may receive instructions from me, or from any member of my household staff. Failure to follow those instructions will result in punishment. And let me be clear, by follow, I mean in spirit as well as in deed. Your little stunt at lunch is a prime example. Which is why you find yourself here.”
Jenna glared at him and tried to talk around the gag, he merely chuckled. “Just so we are clear. I enjoy this. I have certain standards for behavior. With my paid staff, I can’t do these things, it would be unethical. You, however, aren’t paid, are you? No. You are under contract for one year. I can do anything I want with you, so long as there is no permanent damage. Do you have any idea what that leaves open to me?” He reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair, “Jenna, you are completely at my mercy, for one year. Mine to do with as I please. My personal slave. My plaything. Failure to follow any order I give, to do whatever I demand, is breach of contract. I can punish you as I see fit. And there is nothing you can do about it.”
His hands slid out of her hair to cover her mouth and nose. Jenna’s eyes got wide as she realized what he was doing just a second before his hand closed on her face, cutting off her air.
“Let’s see, I believe we got to three today, isn’t that right? Yes, it is…” She tried to squirm, shake her head and pull away from him, but she was held tight in the chair. “Amazing thing, breathing. Cut off the air, and the body and brain immediately panic. But it’s a controllable reaction, up to a point. You can learn to overcome most of it. But please, go ahead, fight me. You’ll use up the oxygen stored in your muscles and pass out more quickly. Besides, I like a bit of fighting.”
Jenna’s vision was turning gray, her body was straining, trying to suck in air, but he held her tight. Just as she thought she would explode, he released her and she gasped in relief.
“That’s one, Jenna,” he said coldly. He waited, watching as her breathing and skin color returned to normal.
She saw his hand coming and tried to turn away, but the cuff on her neck stopped her from moving too far. His hand clamped down over her face again and Jenna’s body panicked again. She struggled against the cuffs, tried to pull her hands free, yank her head away from him, anything. But he was right, struggling used up her air more quickly. Almost without warning, Jenna felt the world slipping away from her. Things went gray, then hazy, then black.
A sharp smell brought her around. “That’s two, Jenna.” He watched and waited. Jenna eyed him warily. She couldn’t escape him, that much was clear. When his hand came over her face again, she took a deep breath just before he clamped down, and she closed her eyes and tried to relax. When her lungs began screaming for air, she forced herself not to fight. Why give him that satisfaction, she thought. She stayed calm even when her body started trembling. She started to feel light headed, almost as if she were floating. Then suddenly, his hand came away and she could breath.
“That’s three, Jenna,” his voice was husky, a little softer. “I am going to release you and I suggest you do not fight me. You will lose, and it will be worse on you if you do. You will compose yourself, and we will continue with the rules of this house as well as your duties.”
He unclasped her neck first, then her body. When she didn’t show signs of fighting him, he opened the cuffs on her legs and ankles, then her hands. Jenna sat glaring at him, waiting for the gag to come out. He untied the gag and slowly removed the sodden material from her mouth. Jenna debated calling him names right then and there, but he still had the gag in his hands and she was seriously worried he would stuff it back in her face. “There is a washroom over there,” he pointed to a small door near the one they’d come in through.
In the washroom, Jenna surveyed her face. There were faint red marks around her mouth and nose, but they were already fading. She wondered briefly if she could file a complaint against him, but no, he was right. Her designation as personal slave meant he had every right to do this to her, whether she wanted him to or not. Open disrespect had not gotten her very far, so she’d have to be more careful about finding ways around this shit in the future. She sure as hell wasn’t going to just shut up and do as she was told. If he wanted to play the game this way, fine. She’d make sure he had to work for it.
She returned to the ballroom to find him seated in a big, overstuffed chair near a window. He gestured to a pillow on the floor in front of him. “I prefer to stand, thank you,” Jenna tried to keep her tone neutral. No way was she going to kneel at his feet! He sighed and held up one finger, then gestured to the pillow again. Jenna sat.
“I knew you would be difficult,” he said, “I just never imagined how difficult. Meals have already been outlined to you. I expect you to bring me my coffee at 7:30 every morning. You will find it already brewed in the kitchen and you can get further details from the staff, they’ll explain how it should be prepared. If you take coffee, you may return to the kitchen before breakfast. After breakfast, you will collect dirty clothes and bath linens from my room and take them to the laundry. You need not worry about the bed. Once you’ve done that, Mrs. French has tasked you with helping in the greenhouse and kitchen garden. She says she spoke with you and you understand plants and herbs. You will clean up and join me for lunch, I will require an hour of your time each afternoon, and other than that, you will return to the gardens and greenhouse. There is a lot to be done at this time of year. Dinner is promptly at seven, and the rest of the evening you will either be with me, or you will have free time. T
onight it will be free time. For now, go introduce yourself to the staff at the greenhouse, they’re expecting you.”
He rose and walked toward the door, “Oh, and Jenna, the rules here are simple. Do as you are told, without attitude, and do a good job. You’ll be rewarded. Give me sass, or fail to do the best you can on something, and there will be consequences. It’s fairly simple. Don’t test me again.”
At the greenhouse, Jenna found the head gardener was an older man who couldn’t be flirted with, but the younger assistant was more than happy to be on the receiving end of her attentions. By the time she left to get ready for dinner, he was smitten and she figured she’d have no problem getting him to handle most of her duties there. The morning coffee thing would be hard, though. She’d have to be the one to bring it up, no questions. She vowed to handle that in the morning.
The next morning, Jenna found one of the kitchen staff only too willing to bring a prepared tray up to her room, with an extra cup for her even. It was a simple thing to deliver his tray, then return to her room to enjoy her coffee, then carry her cup downstairs to the kitchen before meeting him in the breakfast room.
She spent most of her time reading while the greenhouse assistant handled the duties she’d been assigned. She made sure she did enough that her fingers got dirty occasionally, and the older man saw her working.
