by M. J. Aleese
The rest was a blur. She was crated once again as a means of travel. She wasn’t alone; she could hear the whimpers and cries of other females. When the crates were unloaded the females were unpacked and cleaned. Again cold water drenched her body, but then gloved hands with brushes scrubbed every inch of her body, inside and out. Next, the females were chained, gagged, and left naked in a big room. They were tethered to a long pipe and soon discovered that they could pull their chains to gather close to one another. The condemned slaves huddled for warmth and comfort.
Throughout the next few hours, females were taken and returned. No one could speak, but the torture was obvious. The tear stained faces, glistening thighs and red welts told most of the story. The last detail was the red oozing mark covered with gauze where the diamond had been, on each female’s ass. The auction company was branding each slave.
When it was Cierra’s turn, she screamed into her gag and violently fought the men who transported her from the room. That was a mistake; but her fight or flight instinct wouldn’t allow her to stop. Repeated thrashings adjusted her attitude. The man wielding the branding iron, casually discussed placement with another. Since Cierra had not received the diamond tattoo, it seemed that these men had leeway on the location. They discussed the ass, verses hip, verses upper thigh. Apparently, it is not good to brand over a welt, so those areas were avoided.
The anticipation was worse than the actual contact. The pain was swift, intense, and done. It was the sound of sizzling flesh, and the stench, that plummeted Cierra to a new low. She was now a branded animal, the transition was complete. She couldn’t see the mark, but the two men seemed satisfied. One of them laughed, “There you go 87-D469, be a good little slut or this tracking number will bring you back to us, and trust me, you don’t want that." Both men laughed.
“You know I could take a piece of this ass.”
“Yeah, me too, but we have six more bitches to brand.”
One man had his cock in his hand, “It is a tough job, but someone has to do it." With that, both men took their turn pounding Cierra’s pussy. Removing her gag, they also made her suck them, and thank them for their concern. After all, they carefully avoided coming on her new brand.
Prior to the auction, she was once again washed, and this time made up. A team of slaves painted her face and styled her hair. She didn’t fight and although the gag was gone, she didn’t protest. The branding did something. It wasn’t just the physical marking, it did something emotionally. She was strictly a vessel. Nothing other than compliance any longer mattered. Even during the auction, she could see the faces and hear the auctioneer’s voice, but everything was distant. She was present and not present. Her future was beyond her control, and her past was gone. This new vacant disposition was mimicked in her fellow slaves. They each had no more significance than a heifer paraded and purchased at a state fair.
Troy monitored Liam’s telephone. He insisted that Liam call Clinton to have Nicole brought to the office. He would not take a chance on Liam texting for help or reinforcements.
Despite his obvious defeat, Liam remained arrogant and pompous. This attitude continued to fuel Troy’s adrenaline. Once Liam called for Nicole, Troy navigated the next steps of his plan. “You will inform Clinton that because we are friends, you have agreed to allow me to purchase Nicole. You will then allow the two of us to leave your fine establishment. I do not want to hear from you, or even your fucking name, for the rest of my life. And, if you or any of your daddy’s henchmen ever try to contact Diana or Nicole, the video is viral. Believe me; it is safely stored in many locations. It will also automatically go viral, if anything happens to me and I don’t enter my code daily. You’d better pray I look both ways before crossing the fucking street."
“You have always been a fucking cunt. What are you going to do with these bitches, have a fucking sleep over and discuss feelings?”
“What I do with my slaves is my business, because, they are now mine!" Troy’s emphasis of certain words left nothing to Liam’s imagination. Troy continued, “I expect you to respect that. Or at least respect my threat." Liam huffed as Troy continued. “You will also tell Daddy Dearest that the sales are final and that you are the one who told me about the auction, again due to our long standing friendship.”
A knock interrupted the conversation. Troy went to the door and opened it a few millimeters. Clinton and Nicole stood on the other side. He opened it wider allowing the overseer and slave to enter. Troy then turned to Liam.
Liam stood, straightened his suit jacket, and ran his hand through his blonde hair. It was evident he was struggling with his next few words. Troy helped, “Thank you, Clinton. That is all. You may leave the slave and go.”
The greasy excuse for a man looked to Liam. Finally, the heir-apparent spoke, “Yes, Clinton, Mr. Palmer has made me an excellent offer. Let’s say it was difficult to refuse, given our long history. The bitch is now his. He is taking her with him now.”
Nicole’s knees gave way. She gasped as she fell to the floor. It was a combination bow and faint. She regained enough strength to maintain the prone position, but words seemed beyond her ability.
Troy grinned at his friend and then to Clinton. The overseer looked confused. Liam continued, “You may go. This transition is complete.”
“Mr. Diamond, this is highly irregular. Perhaps you should wait until Master Diamond…”
Liam cut him off. It was one thing to have his balls in Troy’s vice. It was another to be questioned by an employee in front of others, especially a fucking slave. “Perhaps you are in need of some behavioral modification, Mr. Clinton. My decision has been made. My last name is Diamond. I do not believe that is yours."
“I am sorry, Mr. Diamond. I will be going." Clinton stepped toward the bitch lying prone on the floor. “Should have fucking sent the stupid cunt to auction.” His foot progressed in a preliminary move toward kicking Nicole. Troy intervened.
“You are not planning on damaging my property, are you, Clinton?" The two men momentarily stood chest to chest. Troy stepped closer. Clinton muttered and turned to leave the room. Once the door was again closed, Troy continued, “Nicole, stand up."
She obeyed. Her bright green eyes momentarily reached to Troy and then fell reverently toward the floor. Her body trembled slightly as she stood silently before the two men.
Turning to Liam, Troy directed, “Unlock her collar."
Liam reached into his desk and found a ring of keys. Nicole’s trembling increased as Master Diamond inserted the key and turned the lock. The collar fell to the floor.
Troy smiled at the terrified girl and then at his buddy. “Good-bye. It has been a pleasure doing business with you." With that, he walked away. Without direction, his slave followed a pace behind. Just as he was about to pass the threshold of Liam’s office he turned back around. “I believe I have found a new best man, your services are no longer needed." They walked away.
Chapter Thirteen
Cierra savored the assault of warm water to her battered body. The hot liquid hit her bruised skin like needles waking her cold contracted muscles. She had never experienced such an amazing and painful sensation. The other slave, Juliana, didn’t give her a time limit for the shower. She told Cierra to wash and warm herself, use soap and shampoo. Then after her shower, she was to use lotions and creams to prepare herself for her new master.
With the heat, fragrant soaps, and aromatic shampoo she’d lost track of time. It had been so long since Cierra experienced a hot shower. With a sudden twinge of panic, she stepped from the steamy glass stall and contemplated the possible ramifications for lingering.
Turning toward the large lighted mirror, Diana fantasized about hotel rooms past. Getaways she’d shared with Troy and the luxuries she’d enjoyed. However, the unfamiliar reflection reminded Cierra of her current status. The short auburn hair that dripped onto her shoulders, the purple and green bruises from beatings and whippings, all nullified her daydreams. Those memories
were fantasies. Today and from now on, she is only a slave, a slut owned by an unknown individual.
Cierra contemplated her new master. Master Diamond spoke of language barriers and a different country. Yet, when the other slave, Juliana, took Cierra from the auction house, she didn’t mention any of that. If Cierra was to be shipped overseas, why was she now in this expensive hotel suite in Chicago? It seemed strange that Juliana didn’t even try to hide their location. She also did not tell Cierra anything about her new master, other than he would be here later, and Cierra needed to be ready.
The knock on the bathroom door brought Cierra back to present causing her to jump. She trembled in anticipation of punishment for remaining too long within the bathroom. Timidly Cierra responded to the knock, pulling the unlocked door toward her. The slave on the other side was the most contented female Cierra had yet to encounter in this world. Cierra lowered her eyes, “I am sorry if I am taking too long.”
The pretty blonde gently lifted Cierra’s chin. “We are equals. You do not need to look down." Cierra exhaled and looked to Juliana’s blue eyes. “No, you are not taking too long. I am sure the warm water is comforting. Your master instructed me to order you dinner, it will be here soon. Please dry your hair, apply the lotions, and there is antibiotic ointment for your brand. I will bring you a robe and by then your dinner should be here.”
Cierra couldn’t contain her tears, this didn’t seem right. “Juliana, is this real?”
Juliana smiled, “Yes, female, it is real. You have been purchased by a fair and good master. Do not take that to believe that he will be easy on you. Or, to believe that he will not inflict pain, but know that he paid more for you than I have ever known any master to do."
Cierra noticed that Juliana did not call her by name. She wondered if that meant her name would change again. This time, she didn’t care. If this master would allow her warm showers and food, he could call her anything he wanted. Cierra nodded and turned back to the large lighted mirror.
***
Exiting the bathroom of the large suite, Cierra walked through the luxurious bedroom. The plush carpet enveloped her bare feet as she took in the splendor of the four-post king sized bed. Her pussy tingled and contracted at the thought of her new master taking her on that lavish bed.
Coolness radiated from the black marble floor as the soles of her feet propelled her through the hall to the living room. Setting on an area rug in front of a leather sofa were covered dishes and drinking glasses.
Juliana explained, “We have not been given permission to use the furniture, but you are allowed to use utensils."
A few weeks ago this information would have been foreign to Diana. But then again, so much has changed. Cierra didn’t question Juliana’s words. Instead, she nodded and sat cross-legged on the rug beside the picnic-like spread. She didn’t know what to expect. For all she knew it could be dog food. In the past week or two, time was so allusive; she’d only been allowed scraps, in dog bowls or directly from the dirty floor. Eating anything with a fork would be the second greatest luxury, next to the amazing shower. When Juliana did not move, Cierra asked, “May I?”
Juliana nodded, and Cierra lifted the lid. She gasped. It wasn’t dog food. Under the silver cover, she found filet mignon, macaroni and cheese, steamed broccoli, and rolls. It was all of her favorite foods. How could anyone know?
At first, Cierra remained vacant and silent. The branding took everything away. But the shower, the other female’s serenity, and now the food all worked together to restore her courage. What the brand took away, this environment was bringing back. She found the courage to speak. “Is this what my master told you to order?”
“Yes, why, do you not like it?”
“I would be honored to eat anything, but this is all of my favorites. How could he know?”
Juliana grinned, “Your master must also be a very wise man." She lifted another lid and peered underneath. “I don’t suppose you like French Silk Pie?" Cierra didn’t answer. She was busy shoveling macaroni and cheese into her mouth as fast as she could swallow. However, her eyes opened wide and she nodded. Juliana poured crystal clear water into a glass and coffee into a cup. “Please slow down. I don’t want to face my master or yours, if you choke before he gets here.”
Cierra slowed her eating long enough to drink water. It was the purest cleanest liquid she’d ever tasted. She contemplated, maybe this isn’t real, or maybe this is heaven. Where ever it was, Cierra wasn’t willing to hesitate and allow it to disappear.
After she devoured most of her plate, Cierra realized Juliana wasn’t eating. “I am sorry. Do you want some of this food? You have been so kind. I am being rude.”
“No, my master will tell me when I may eat. And, I believe prior to this moment, I have eaten more recently than you. Please continue. I was told you will need your strength.”
Cierra looked at the other slave. Her expression was light and happy, but her words sent a shiver down Cierra’s spine. “What is going to happen to me?”
“I do not know. It is not my place to ask, or yours.”
Cierra nodded. Between bites, she began to talk. “May I ask you a question?”
“You may ask, but I do not know if I will be able to answer.”
“Did your master buy you at an auction?”
“No, I willingly gave myself to my master. I am now his slave and his wife.”
Cierra stared at the blonde sitting cross-legged on the area rug. “Really? That is beautiful.”
“It is. I am very blessed.”
Cierra shook her head and continued to eat. She’d resolved herself to the understanding that missed opportunities in her life would haunt her forever. She knew she did not deserve what Juliana had, but could recognize its beauty.
The mustang maneuvered the snowy streets as Troy drove away from the Creation Inferno. He thought about Nicole’s reaction to the world outside of the club. Prior to stepping from the Inferno’s door, Troy removed his overcoat and wrapped it around the petite slave. Her waitress skirt, t-shirt, and heels were no protection against the Chicago snow and wind.
Once they entered the winter wonderland of the Inferno’s parking lot, Nicole’s eyes widened. The emerald green sparkled as it reflected the glistening snowflakes that covered every surface. Just before he opened the door of his Mustang for his purchase, he saw her scoop snow, and place it on her tongue. She didn’t speak, he didn’t comment, but her coy smile filled him with pride.
Now, Troy peered to his right and watched Nicole, still wrapped in his coat, taking in the world passing by the windows of his sports car. After a prolonged silence he spoke, “Nicole, tell me your thoughts.”
It was like opening a spigot. She’d been silently waiting his permission. “Master Troy, I don’t know what to think. Perhaps I am too stupid to understand what just happened. This morning Mistress Debbie told me that I was being sold at auction. I was packed in a wooden crate, a lot like the punishment box. I could hear other slaves in other boxes. They were crying. So was I. Then I heard boxes moving. Mine did not move. Finally, I was alone and didn’t understand what happened." She took a breath and looked out the window. Her eyes weren’t seeing the world, she was viewing memories. Troy instructed her to continue. She inhaled and began again, her words slower and more deliberate. “When the box opened it was Master Clinton. He told me that he’d saved me from auction, for himself.”
Troy’s knuckles blanched as the steering wheel surrendered to his grip. “What did he do?”
“He told me that I would need to show him my gratitude." She inhaled and continued, “He took me to the shower room where he directed my movements and watched as I cleaned myself and masturbated in the cold water. Then he took me to his office." Nicole turned toward her master. She didn’t know him well, but could see his clenched jaw and feel the emanating tension. “Master, do you want me to go on?”
Troy considered the question. Did he really need to know the particulars? Even Marcus said i
t is her job. Maybe some things were better left unsaid. “I am not sure. Did he hurt you?”
“Yes.”
“I should have punched him too.”
Nicole’s eyes opened wide. “Sir, too? May I ask who else you hit?”
For the first time since Dr. Sells entered his office, Troy relaxed. He turned to the beautiful green-eyed girl. The tension was gone from his expression. His face now radiated warmth and pleasure toward the young woman staring only at him. His lips turned upward and his perfect teeth reflected the dashboard lights. “Well, since you aren’t going back, I see no reason for you not to know. I punched Liam… multiple times.”
Nicole gasped, grinned, and threw her head against the leather seat. “Wow. I would have loved to have seen that!" They both laughed.
It seemed so natural, the two of them. To think, they’d only met less than two weeks ago. Troy asked Nicole a question. “What do you think about leaving the Inferno? I know you told me you didn’t want to."
“I didn’t want to be sold at auction, it terrified me. Mistress Debbie refers to it often, telling us sluts that if we don’t behave, if we don’t meet quotas, if we do anything to displease her, she will have us sold to some Sheik." Nicole paused, “I didn’t know that private purchases were even possible.”
“I am not sure they are, but I did something tonight.”
Nicole interjected, “Punched Master Liam.”
Troy laughed, “Besides that. And I feared that you would be punished for my behavior.”
“I still do not know what to think. I have never been owned by one man. What if I am not good at this?”
