by Paul Blades
“That's where I come in my dear,” Klitzman explained, his voice harsh and stern, his master's voice, the voice of a slaver. Andre had quietly edged his way over to behind the girl’s chair. “I am the agent of Jack's revenge against you, Brenda, for your betrayal of him. It will be an exquisite revenge. You see, Jack will be leaving this little paradise in a few days, but you will not. You will remain behind as punishment for your crime against Jack. You will learn to obey and serve and to open yourself to all men who desire you. You see, my dear, you were unable to remain a lover to just one man, so now you will remain open to all.”
The girl looked at Klitzman in horror, then at me, then at Jack. She leapt up out of her chair. “You're insane, I'm not...” she started to say. But Andre, quicker than the eye could see, reached out with one hand and grabbed her by the hair at the back of her head. With the other hand he grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. In a second he had her squirming on the floor, yelling in pain. Andre then sat on her back, holding her one arm in place with his knee while he held the other and pulled a thin leather cord out of his jacket pocket. He slipped the noose formed by the end of the cord over one of her hands and drew it tight around her wrist. He then freed her other arm and pulled her two wrists together, tying them tightly in place.
While Andre struggled with the girl, Jack looked on intently, like a bookie in the fifteenth round. Klitzman was looking at the girl, but at Jack too. He knew what Jack was thinking. Klitzman knew people, especially rich, greedy ones.
After fixing the girl's arms in place, Andre sat back and admired his work. Brenda was frantic, screaming and twisting like a fish out of water. “Jack! Jack! What are you doing, what is happening? Stop! Stop this! Oh please help me!” You didn't have to be a Rhodes Scholar to know that she was wasting her breath.
Klitzman then gave a nod to Andre who lifted a gag from his other pocket and, pulling back the girl's head by her hair, stuffed it into her mouth. The screaming stopped and turned into a panicky moan. As the girl fought, Andre secured the gag behind her head, reached in under the back of her dress and undid the straps to her brassiere. He then rolled her over and, sitting on her feet, grabbed her dress in front of her breasts. Grinning, he tore it in two, the length of her body. Brenda, startled, stopped for a moment and then resumed her frantic squirming. Her muffled protests filled the finely decorated room.
Andre calmly produced a pocketknife, which he used to cut through Brenda's shoulder straps and brassiere. Her breasts burst free, pale white with tiny red circles, surrounded by a pulchritudinous sea of tan. Andre paused again. We all did. He was enjoying his work. So were we. Especially the kid. He was on the edge of the couch gripping the cognac snifter, his knuckles white. “Whoa boy,” I thought, “you're going to bust that glass and make a mess.”
Andre pulled the remnants of the girl's dress from beneath her and cast it aside. He then cut her lacey white panties on both sides of her thighs and yanked them from between her legs. The girl was now naked except for her stockings and earrings. Andre stood up, lifting Brenda from the floor with him. Holding her by her hair he presented her to us. Her eyes were wild with fear. She had lovely green eyes and gentle, full breasts, curving upwards, heaving with her chest, shimmering like a spring lake. Her legs and belly were tan except for a small white strip across her groin. Dark, rich, thick pubic hair, trimmed for her bikini, surrounded her sex. I have to confess that I was moved. My cock was hard as a rock.
Klitzman broke the silence. “You see my dear, it is quite simple. Jack has turned you over to me for punishment. A lifetime of punishment.” The girl looked at Klitzman, disbelieving, wide eyed. “In a few moments, Andre here will take you to the training cells where you will await your fate. You don't have to say goodbye to Jack now though; he'll be seeing you before he goes.”
Jack rose from the couch, emotion showing deep in his face, enraged, but exhilarated. “Yes Brenda, I'll be seeing you again very soon. Until then remember this.” He slapped her violently across the face.
Klitzman rose. “Now Jack, there'll be plenty of time for that later. Andre, you may remove the slave.” Andre grinned again and began to drag her from the room leading her by her hair. Her clothes lay strewn about like she had been struck by lightning and disappeared. I suppose she had.
“Oh, one more thing,” Klitzman said to the girl. Andre held her still. Klitzman reached into his jacket pocket. “I think you will recognize this.” He held up a fancy looking watch. “Johnny won’t need it anymore.”
Brenda’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. I didn’t know the significance of the watch, but I figured that one of the reasons that a guy might not need one is if he were pushing up daisies somewhere. I watch the girl’s eyes fill with tears. Klitzman smiled at her and waived to Andre. The brute yanked on Brenda’s hair and pulled her from the room.
Jack was trembling, sitting back on the couch, downing his cognac. Klitzman poured him another. “My men have removed all her belongings from your room,” he told him. “Of course, we left the jewelry. I understand that it is extremely valuable.”
“I don’t want it,” Jack exclaimed, his face a map of bitterness.
Klitzman rang a buzzer next to the couch. “I’ll have someone pick it up. We’ll credit it to your account. You will now be escorted to the main guest area. Enjoy yourself. I will have a slave assigned to you who will take pleasure in relieving you of your distress. But save some energy for tomorrow. My new slave will serve your pleasure then.”
Jack nodded and put down the snifter. A thin, tall black man entered. He was clad in the serving uniform of the guest areas: a plain white t-shirt and white pants. He bowed slightly and awaited Jack's pleasure. Jack rose, nodded speechlessly to me and Klitzman and left the room.
“Well, did you enjoy our little party, Harry?” Klitzman asked after a short pause.
“Not quite what I expected,” I said. “What happens now?”
“Well, the girl will be initiated tomorrow. Tonight she will be placed in close confinement.”
“No, I mean Jack.”
“Oh, well he'll stay as a guest for a week or so. Tomorrow he'll witness the girl's initiation and then see her no more. His revenge will be complete and I will have a new slave. I may already have a buyer for her.”
“Aren't you worried that he'll change his mind when he gets back to the world and squeal?” I asked.
“Oh, no,” Klitzman said. “He's now a member of our little fraternity. He's paid his dues, minus a small discount for adding to our stable, but a member all the same. He'll be watched for a while when he returns, and he'll be reminded what awaits him if he does talk: loss of his privileges here and death.”
This Klitzman really knew how to hurt a guy, I thought. I mean, being thrown out of your club, now that was nasty. I suppose that he would plunder this guy's estates and ravage his household and servants too.
“In addition, of course, there would be the death of his family members whom he has pledged as security for his silence,” Klitzman added. I was right.
“Now why don't you go and enjoy yourself. Tomorrow I want you to witness the initiation of my new slave. I want you to sit on Jack in case he gets squeamish.” I took this request as a demand and quickly made my exit. A servant waited outside the door to the salon area and escorted me back to the resort area. Passing the outside door again, I mused over the night's events and I realized that I was getting deeper and deeper into this mess and I had yet to think of how to get out, never mind how to satisfy my obligations to the people who had sent me.
The next morning, after breakfast and a quick five mile run around the compound track, I went down to the training areas to see what had become of Brenda. I was curious to see what kind of ‘close confinement’ Klitzman had prescribed for her.
I entered the training area after being admitted by the black robed guard.
Rukimo had greeted me when I exited the elevator that led down to the training areas with a great sweep of hi
s arms and a pat on the back. As usual, this pat on the back was more like a karate chop from a gorilla. “Harry, my friend, welcome to my kingdom!” he said, his deep voice booming. “What can I do for you today?”
“I came to take a look at the new girl. Where is she, downstairs?”
“Yes, but in a special cell. Come, I'll show you.”
Rukimo led me down the hall to the training areas and then down a flight of stairs. At the bottom was the door to the special training area where I had last seen the unhappy, black haired slave girl, Joanna. Rukimo unlocked it and led me through. In two of the cages along the wall were young women. Both wore leather hoods which covered their mouths and eyes but left their nostrils free. They were seated and their hands were locked to their ankles in front of them which were, in turn, locked to the sides of the cage. “Two of my special cases,” Rukimo said. Against the far wall there was a four by four steel box on wheels. Several air holes were punched out of the top. “Here's our little beauty,” Rukimo said. “All dressed up and nowhere to go.” He moved over to a padlock on the top edge of the box and opened it with his key. “Let's see what we've got.”
I looked into the box and saw what had been Brenda scrunched up on the floor of the box with her arms and legs hogtied together. She too wore a hood. The smell from the box was quite nasty. “Smelly, huh?” Rukimo observed. “It’s amazing how lovely they are but how stinky they can get.” Shit and urine lined the bottom of the box. The girl whimpered from behind her mask. There was evidently a gag behind it. “Not yet lovely one,” he said sarcastically. He reached over to the wall and grabbed a hose that was there. Turning it on, he sprayed the inside of the box. “We gave her a little something to clean out her system. We don't want any accidents later during the ceremony.” The water emptied from the bottom of the box to a drain in the floor.
I could imagine the horror of the girl at finding herself in this predicament. One minute feasting upon the finest foods and wines civilization had to offer, clothing herself in the softest silks and finest jewels, and the next, a prisoner in a jack in the box, lolling in your own wastes, with your only contact to the outside world this ten foot black madman with a hose. I'll bet it was cold too.
“Rest up my lovely, you'll need it later,” Rukimo told the unlucky girl.
Rukimo then locked the box shut with a loud clang. He then proceeded to ‘watering’ the two other girls, letting them evacuate into a little basin in the corner of the room and giving them a little water from the hose. The bottom half of the hoods could be opened and the gag removed. This allowed the girl to eat or drink while wearing the hood or, more to the point, allowed the use of the mouth without freeing the girl's head or eyes. Rukimo returned them to their cages, but not before caressing their breasts and the furrows between their thighs. As he locked the second cage he said, “Patience my sweets, more will come later.”
I left Rukimo after returning upstairs and agreeing to return at about 7 P.M. for the initiation of Brenda.
Shortly after dinner, I went to my cottage and, in accordance with instructions, donned the formal robe that Klitzman had sent over. The robe was bright red with a hood which draped over the sides of my face. I looked like a medieval monk, but if this was what the program called for, well I would do what I was fucking told. Of course, I had none of my original clothing left anyway, so I had to wear what I was given. The same as the girls, I thought.
Mary and Carol were excited to see it. Carol tried to suppress her laughter. “Oh, Master Harry,” she said. “Is it trick or treat time?”
I guess I had been giving the girls a little too much latitude. She and Mary were kneeling in front of me. I grabbed Carol’s nipples and squeezed them playfully. “Are you making fun of your master?” I asked her. “Maybe I should get the whip out tonight when I come back.”
Carol looked at me, trying to see if I was serious. Her face took on a sober, sad expression. “Master could beat me every day and I would still serve him with all my heart,” she said. Mary, who was kneeling next to her, nodded in agreement. I was taken aback. Somehow, these pretty, young women, who had been stolen from their prior lives and suffered brutal treatment from their oppressors, had found a reason to feel what must seem like love to them. I looked into their sparkling eyes. I too had developed feelings for them, in spite of my resolve not to. How could I ever protect them, I thought to myself. If Rukimo, or Klitzman or Anthony or even Thorndike or Cholo wanted them, they would just take them and I would be powerless to do anything about it.
I placed my hands on the heads of the two slave girls. “Be careful what you promise,” I said to Carol. After a short pause, I said, “I’ll try and come home early tonight and we can have some fun together.”
“Yes, master,” Carol said, gleaming. Mary, her voice silenced by the gag that I continued to insist that she wear, still managed to convey a smile.
I left my cottage and walked down the hill to the resort area. I have to say I did get some funny looks. I reached the guest quarters where Jack was housed and found his room.
When I reached his door I entered without knocking. Since every inch of the place was subject to surveillance and since the guests had been instructed to forget their inhibitions, what was the sense of knocking? Jack the Harvard man was standing in the middle of the room being dried by a pale, small breasted girl. He was obviously drunk, but not drunk enough for what he was going to see soon. I think he realized what he was in for and was a little nervous. The girl alternated drying and kissing as I watched the little ritual. Another girl, a buxom brunette, was lying on the bed trussed and gagged. The whip on the floor and the red marks about her body told the story. I guess she looked a little like Brenda at that.
“I've come to bring you to the ceremony,” I said. “Are you ready?”
“I'm ready,” he said, “ready as hell.”
He shoved aside the slave who had been drying him and downed the glass which had been in his hand. Near the bed was a small tin of cocaine and a tiny spoon. Yeah, he was ready.
“Put on your robe and let’s go,” I said. The kid stumbled over to the bed and put on the light blue robe that had been laid out on it. The pale girl walked over to the door and knelt there with her wrists crossed and raised. She knew her duty well. I clasped her wrists together and attached them to the chain by the door. She would be collected by the wing slave master in due time and would be back in the kid's room, cleaned and primped in an hour. The brunette too.
Rukimo had explained to me that betrayed girls, while not rare, were not that common. I guess most guys were satisfied with a nasty letter and a brace of dead flowers. Not to mention that not everyone had a half a million dollars to post as a nonrefundable bond or the $25,000 per week it took to stay here. Sometimes they became quite upset when the full force of what they'd done to their former honeys sunk in. That's why the club tried to make sure that the boyfriend was taken care of by a well-trained slave after the ceremony who would smooth over the rough parts for the poor boy. I guessed that the pale, blond girl was one of these and would be here for sure when Joe College returned.
I opened the door and walked out, Jack the Avenger following me. We walked across the guest compound and approached the entrance to the training area. After showing our passes to the guard, I turned to the boy and said, “As you've been told, you are to be blindfolded and restrained until the ceremony begins. You will be released during the ceremony. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice conveying his nervousness.
“If you attempt to interfere with the ceremony you will be restrained and gagged,” I told him. Rukimo had briefed me on what to tell Jack earlier that afternoon.
“Yes, I do,” Jack answered, his voice now full of resolve.
“Then turn around.” I put the blindfold on him and strapped a wide leather belt around his waist. After securing his hands, I signaled the guard and he opened first the outer door, and then the inner. We walked in, took the elevator down
to Rukimo’s domain. I escorted Jack to the large room that was often used to break in the new slaves. This was the same room in which I had seen Lois and Delia enslaved. I sat him down in a chair near the round platform where the ceremony would take place.
When I talked to Rukimo earlier I had asked him why there was so much pomp being arranged. “It’s for the customer’s benefit,” Rukimo told me. “Once the ceremony is over, there will be no doubt in his mind that the girl he brought here is gone forever and that there is only a slave girl left in her place.”
Rukimo was waiting in the room and turned down the lights. He motioned for me to follow him. “You will help me with the girl.” he said. Not what I expected, but, what the hell?
We entered Rukimo's basement inner sanctum and walked over to the box against the far wall. He opened it and folded down the front panel. He motioned for my help and he and I lifted Brenda from the bottom of the box and carried her to the other side of the room. I noticed that the cages were now empty. Presumably, Rukimo had taught the helpless women whatever lesson he felt they needed to learn and had transferred them to the cells upstairs. Rukimo unfastened the girl's ankles and wrists. She was not wearing bracelets and anklets but had been bound by the same type of silken cord I had seen Andre use the night before. She moaned under her hood.
Rukimo then made her stand and dragged her over to the chains hanging from the wall. He untied her hands and clapped the standard leather bracelets around her wrists. Brenda was too dazed to resist. He then attached her hands to the chains and proceeded to remove the hood. Brenda looked out, blinking and sputtering. I'm sure her arms and legs were in extreme pain from her confinement. She started to groan softly, begging, “Please, please, don't do this, please help me.” Rukimo grabbed the hose and turned it on over her head. She squealed as the cold water ran over her. He indicated to me a nearby sponge and bar of soap.
I lathered up quickly and began washing her down. Her face, neck, breasts, belly, I soaped. Down between her legs, down her thighs and to her feet. All over I slowly massaged her body with the sponge. Rukimo then rinsed her off and we both commenced drying her. Rukimo dried her hair lightly. She was definitely coming to now and was gathering in her surroundings and remembering her predicament. Rukimo spun her around and replaced the hood she had been wearing, gag and all. I was impressed with his deftness, as was the girl, who stiffened momentarily and then began to squirm and twist violently. Rukimo stood back and chuckled.
