by M. J. Aleese
The terror that met Cierra as she woke triggered hyperventilation. She fought to inhale. Her lungs couldn’t seem to enlarge properly and fill with oxygen. The stagnant air smelled vile and refused to flow. The acid stench caused her stomach to once again revolt. The vomit added to the putrid odor within the box. She didn’t know what this meant. Was she being punished or shipped?
The last thing Cierra remembered was being in a small room with a dirty mattress and Master James. She tried to obey his every command, but after fucking her, he tied her to the mattress and wielded something he laughingly called the pussy slapper. She begged for mercy, apologized profusely, and promised services. Eventually, the pain overtook her, she must have fainted.
The total darkness increased her anxiety. She didn’t know how long she’d been in the crate, or how long she would be required to stay. She searched the darkness for a bottle of water, instead she found a bowl. Believing the contents felt like water, she lowered her lips and sucked. They are turning me into an animal. Degraded on her hands and knees, sucking stale water from a bowl, naked, abused, and filthy, she recognized with a tremendous sense of loss, the transition was nearly complete. How long had it been since she’d been in her apartment? Leaning against the rough side of the wooden box, Cierra shed tears no one would see.
Closing her eyes against her harsh reality, she allowed her mind a freedom that her body would never again enjoy. Fantasizing, her thoughts transported her from the cubical of shame to a place where she remained a slave, but a slave with one master. She thought about a clean bedroom, clean sheets, and silk scarves securing her to a large bed. The man before her held an instrument of torture, teasing her tender breasts and wet cunt. However, that man wasn’t filled with rage. No, it was love and domination she witnessed in his eyes.
Was he going to hurt her, cause her pain? Yes. Would they both enjoy every minute of his dominance? Without a doubt! When he was done with the whip, she would be required to thank him for his correction. Next, she would beg for his cock. If his chose to accommodate, he would fuck her.
Striving for the unobtainable climax, her fingers rubbing her clit with vigor, she audibly requests her master’s permission for orgasm. In her fantasy, he makes her wait. She shudders as her hand moves to her wet slit and plunges in and out of her swollen pussy. Then, her imaginary master rubs his stubbly chin on her collar, instigating goose bumps up and down her legs, and whispers, “Beg, slave.”
Her body trembles as she works to contain the orgasm. “Please Master, please allow your slave to come.”
With her fingers substituting for the thick cock she imagined, the rich husky voice in her head offers approval at his slave’s control. “Now, you may come.”
Wave after wave of ecstasy flows over her battered body as she hears herself reply, “Thank you, Master Troy, I love you.”
Trapped by her master’s strong body, her body shudders as his warmth covers her. His massive chest flattens her breasts, and he releases her wrists. She pulls her freed arms close and nuzzles into his protection. His sturdy shoulders shield her as his powerful arms embrace her. The security of his hug frees her fears. Closing her eyes, she hears his heartbeat, inhales his intoxicating scent, and drifts toward sleep. Just before she surpasses the invisible precipice, Diana hears her husband’s voice, “I love you too."
Troy couldn’t believe that it had been a week since he’d spoken to or seen Diana. After going out with Liam, he finally received a text. It simply said, Please don’t look for me, I don’t deserve you or the love of my family. Good-bye. He contacted Diana’s parents. They received a similar text. Her mother’s voice cracked; she sounded heartbroken. None of it made sense.
He avoided the Inferno. Truthfully, he kept thinking about Nicole and feared causing her more trouble. It was strange how much he enjoyed hurting her, but at the same time, how much he wanted to protect her.
Saturday night, he couldn’t take it anymore. His fucking body was going to explode if he didn’t work off some stress. Exercise used to do it for him. In the past week he’d run fifty miles and beaten the hell out of a hundred pound bag. He needed more.
The bouncer allowed Troy immediate entry, and he wandered the different clubs and restaurants. Instead of Nicole, he found Savannah and sat in her section. When she took his order, she called him by name, Master Troy. The recognition instigated a throbbing in his growing cock.
After his meal and a few beers, Savannah willingly escorted him to the back. Troy requested one of the nicer rooms and his usual loud music. He preferred clean sheets to the dirty mattress on the floor. This time he didn’t want to ask questions or talk. His fantasies about initiating Diana to this world were waning. She didn’t want to talk to him, much less explore the world of domination at his hands. However, now that he’d tasted this life, he couldn’t go back. Who eats vanilla after tasting double chocolate?
He commanded and Savannah obeyed. He told her to undress, she did. He instructed her to crawl to his feet and show the proper respect. Troy saw the shine of cream on Savannah’s swollen pussy.
She didn’t just crawl, she belly crawled – total subjection. Troy removed his penis from his jeans and stroked it, as Savannah kissed and licked his shoes. “Bitch, suck my cock." Her mouth opened and eagerly rose to her knees. It reminded him of a baby bird about to receive a very thick worm. She took him deep and sucked. “Damn, slut, you’re a fucking vacuum!" He entwined his fingers in her dark hair, pulling tighter than necessary, forcing his cock to the hilt. She never hesitated or gagged and her bare pussy wiggled against her heel in obvious arousal. “No self-pleasure, slut." Savannah whined as she moved her pussy away from her foot.
He used her every way he could imagine. He also punished her for futile infractions. She performed perfectly, submitting when she should, begging for reprieves that would never come, and thanking him for everything he gave. It was physically satisfying, but there was no connection. She portrayed her role too well. At least Nicole had a hint of innocence that made her real. Savannah couldn’t execute innocent if her life depended upon it. She not only knew her job, but obviously enjoyed it - too much. Troy found himself wanting to push more, strike harder, and inflict more pain. Her tolerance with scripted suffering was making him go to a place he didn’t like.
After a few hours, he felt more frustrated than before. It wasn’t Savannah’s fault; nonetheless, he decided not to give Clinton the large tip that followed his encounters with Nicole. As he dressed, he attempted conversation. It wasn’t like Troy needed to be emotionally attached to another Inferno slave, but her fakeness aggravated him. He wanted to know if she was real. “You know your job well.”
“Thank you, Master Troy.”
“How long have you been here?"
“I have been an Inferno slut for a couple of years. I worked here as a waitress first, just in the front clubs.”
“So you came here completely voluntarily? Why, are you hiding from someone? Did you need the security?”
Savannah laughed as she wiggled into her skirt. “No, my ex-husband was a policeman, I had plenty of security. I needed this.”
Troy sat on the edge of the bed and watched as the slut secured her hair on top of her head. Her raised arms caused her skirt to rise, exposing her glistening swollen pussy. “Seriously? What happened to your husband?”
She smirked again, “We divorced, and he is doing very well. I introduced him to this life, and he’s embraced it with someone else." Walking toward Troy and teasing him with her tits, she added, “Which is fine with me. He keeps her on a short leash." Smirking, “Literally, I have heard. And anyway, I’m not the short leash kind. I like variety.”
“You don’t seem afraid to speak.”
“Do you mean like little mousey Nicole? I like my work. I do it well. Master Diamond calls on me personally a couple times a week. I would never say anything that would hurt the Inferno. This place is my home. I guess I don’t share the same fears as a lot of the other sluts.”
“What fears would those be?”
“Well, for some it is beatings." Smiling, “I like those." Savannah concentrated on placing her feet into the tall black heels. She then turned back to Troy and continued, “Most worry about auctions.”
“And you don’t?”
“Well, nothing is for sure, but I’ve been to a couple of them on Master Diamond’s arm. He told me that he will never sell me. I guess I have to believe him.”
Troy thought about his friend. “I don’t mean to give you cause for alarm, but I’ve known Liam for a long time. His word isn’t always…”
Her eyes displayed a deep understanding that Troy would never penetrate. “Master Troy, I am sorry if I misspoke. I do not mean Master Liam. I am speaking of Master Carmichael. This club belongs to him. Master Liam may believe he has control, but let’s just say Master Diamond, the real one, doesn’t leave anything to chance. I am one of Master Carmichael’s pets.”
“Do you know anything about a big sale coming up next week?”
“Master Troy that isn’t for me to say, but if it were, I would say that it is about time for the overseas buyers to visit. It happens every couple of months.”
“How many sluts are sold?”
“It varies, sometimes five, sometimes twenty. There are also local or at least US buyers. It is quite the production. I get to dress up and ride in a car." Troy thought about Nicole. “Master Troy, if you are done with me, I must be going back out on the floor.”
His mind was elsewhere, “Yeah, fine. Bye." She slipped from the room.
Troy made his way to the security office and knocked on the door. The door opened and he was again chest to chest with Marcus. “Yes, Mr. Palmer?”
“Is Mr. Terrill here?”
“He is out on the floor.”
“May I enter?”
“I don’t believe you have clearance."
Troy didn’t want to argue. “Fine, just tell him I stopped by. I learned about an impending auction… Shit! Just make sure she’s alright.”
“We are all aware of the important guests and there is only so much we can do.”
“Well, if I can help.”
“Sure, Mr. Palmer, like you helped before. You’re first on my list to call.”
“Fuck you. I am just trying to… never mind." Troy turned and stormed away. He wanted to hit someone or something not a slave. Troy wanted to inflict injury, to beat the shit out of someone, maybe Marcus.
Troy couldn’t focus on the rooms of people, lights, or smoke as he moved from club to club. If he had, he might have noticed the red head dancer on one of the stages, chained to a pole. In a little while, someone would decide to have her unchained and moved to a back room. She would comply willingly. Word is – she's becoming the model slave. Box time is a wonderful motivator and Master Clinton is skilled at behavior modification.
***
When your personal life sucks, you throw yourself into work. That is what Troy was doing late Friday afternoon as he sat behind his large cluttered desk at Jameson, Freeman, and Lewis. His new client in New York could keep him busy all day, every day. But, there were also other clients that needed his attention. He had wasted too much time. Life needed to go on.
The world of investments constantly remains in a state of flux. The European market, especially Greece is making every day hell, every hour a new paradigm. Troy was engrossed in research on a new communication company, when his desk phone rang. It was the receptionist, “Dr. Sells, from down the hall, is here. She would like to see you."
Troy didn’t answer. He hung up the phone and hurried to the front of the firm. Turning the corner he saw the blonde pacing in the lobby. It struck him as funny that she didn’t sit on the available furniture. He observed her work appearance. Her hair pinned conservatively behind her neck, a gray skirt, longer than her white lab coat, and black nylons with black pumps. The good doctor looked totally different than at their last meeting. Her expression was also different. Today she looked worried. “Dr. Sells, please follow me to my office.”
She nodded and followed.
If anyone had been paying attention, they may have noticed that her normally straight neck and haughty facade was suddenly replaced with a docile subservient persona. Troy led her to his office and closed the door.
Juliana stood before him, head bowed. “Master Troy, I apologize for interrupting your work, it is just that my master instructed me to inform you of a recent development. He hoped that perhaps you could help.”
“Dr. Sells, please look up. Forget all the proper speaking rules. Just tell me what is going on.”
“The auction of Inferno slaves is this evening. Master Liam created the list of sluts for sale…”
Troy felt faint and leaned against his desk, “Oh, my god, Nicole is being sold, isn’t she?”
“Yes, Master Troy. And, perhaps you figured this out, but Master Marcus and Nicole are in love. They have been involved for some time.”
That made sense, Troy thought. “I didn’t know. Why can’t he buy her?”
“It doesn’t work like that. The auctions are held by an independent company, they do this from city to city. Only invited buyers and their representatives can attend. As employees of Inferno, Master Marcus or my master, are prohibited from buying.”
“So how can I help?”
“Do I understand that you are willing to help?”
“Hell yes. Tell me what to do." Now that may have been some breach of male/female order, but Troy didn’t care.
“My master says that he can get your name on the list of buyers if you can get to the warehouse with cash.”
“This has to be illegal. Do I need to worry about ramifications?”
“All I know is that there have never been legal problems. Master Diamond takes care of that.”
“I am in. How much cash do I need?”
“I was instructed to withdrawal $10,000 from my master’s account. I have it in my purse.”
“I don’t want to use your money. I can get $10,000.”
“I need to phone my master.”
“I will get the cash and meet you in the parking garage.”
Doctor Sells bowed her head again, “Master Troy, this may not work, but thank you.”
Within minutes, the two settled into Troy’s Mustang and followed the directions Derek texted to his slave.
“Please, Sir, take our money and then you will not come up short. My master said that bids usually run from $3,000 to the highest he’s seen was $12,000."
Troy agreed as he shifted the muscle car and worked his way through rush hour traffic. “You can’t go in with me, can you?”
“No, Sir. Women are permitted. However, my presence would alert the Inferno people of our connection to this plan. It was thought that perhaps your connection to Master Liam could justify your presence.”
“He did tell me that there was a big sale this week.”
Juliana smiled, settled back onto the leather seat, and watched through the windshield as Troy maneuvered south along the Dan Ryan Expressway. Troy observed her calm in the face of crisis. She’d done her assignment. Her master would be pleased. The rest was beyond her control. The males would take care of it, or they wouldn’t. He envied her infinite faith and limited responsibilities.
Chapter Eleven
The Chicago wind howled, rattling the tall chain-linked fence surrounding the old warehouse. For an added deterrent, barbed wire topped the barrier. Troy wondered if that was to keep the curious out, or the enslaved in.
He eased his red muscle car into line and toward the gate. With each forward movement, he feigned the strength required of someone about to purchase female flesh, while silently praying: Please let my name appear on the guard’s list. Passing this check point was essential for their plan. Troy watched as each driver endured scrutinization against the electronic tablet.
Juliana quietly encouraged his progress. Troy’s façade cracked slightly as he grinned at his partner in
crime. She’d loosened her hair, allowing it to cascade down her back. Her nylons and lab coat were gone, and her skirt was rolled at the waist, to reveal most of her shapely legs. Troy actually laughed when she removed her blouse and eased off her bra. Now only a lace camisole remained. The man at the gate wasn’t from Inferno, but any female other than a slave would raise suspicion.
Her change in attire came after a conversation with her master. Troy didn’t know what to expect from his end. He could only hear Dr. Sells repeating, “Yes, Master, I will do that." The end result was impressive.
As Troy rolled down the window, she lowered her eyes and turned slightly to her right. No dominant male would question her subservient status. Only Troy could hear her whisper, “My master said your name is there. Just speak confidently, you can do this.”
The guard didn’t hesitate, “Yes, Sir, Mr. Palmer, I see your name. Please follow this road around the building. Someone will be there to direct your parking."
Before they reached the lot, Derek appeared, through a gray metal door. Troy eased his car into the shadows and lowered his window. Derek’s voice revealed concern, “Thank you, Mr. Palmer. We have not been able to confirm Nicole’s presence, although it was confirmed that she was crated this afternoon at the Inferno. The last time she was seen, she was very shaken. They do something to them here. When they enter the stage, they are always composed." Troy nodded, having no idea what to expect. Derek continued, “Marcus wants you to know, he appreciates your help. If this goes as planned, you will own Nicole. He is alright with that. He believes you will be better to her than the Arabs or Japanese. Those are the main buyers here today." Before Troy could respond, Derek went on, “Jules, come with me. Mr. Palmer, may we leave her clothes in your car for now?”
Troy was too distracted, by the fact that he would own Nicole to think about Dr. Sell’s garments. Juliana eased out of the car as Troy responded, “Yeah, that’s fine. But I am stopping Nicole from being sold, not purchasing her for myself.”
“Listen, man, you have to do this with confidence and conviction. Otherwise these dudes will see right through you. You have to want her, want her bad! You came here because your friend, Liam Diamond mentioned the auction. You’ve been with Nicole more than once, and you decided if she was up for sale, you would be the only one to buy her.”
