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BITB01 thick maroon rug facing large
BLACKMAILED INTO BONDAGE
by Zebulon
This is a work of fiction. No reference to real persons is
intended. It contains strong, non-traditional sexual imagery
and language. If you don't like this kind of thing, don't read it.
This may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being posted,
and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site where it is
being posted.
Feedback is welcome. zebulon@fastmail.ca
(MF, FF, Bond)
* * * * * Start of Part 1 * * * * *
Penny Taylor was a gorgeous woman. She was sitting on
a maroon rug facing a large stone fireplace, a dreamy,
far-away look in her eyes. Her hair was a rich lustrous
auburn, almost a rusty red. It shimmered in the light of the
fire.
There were innocent clusters of freckles on the backs of
each of her shapely shoulders. Her skin was smooth and a
wonderfully deep tan. Her arms were long and well muscled.
Her hips were womanly without being overly wide. Her
behind was firm and beautifully rounded. At the moment, she
was sitting up, her body positioned over her feet, knees on the
floor spread to the sides. She had very shapely hands with
long aristocratic fingers. Her fingers were intertwined, her
hands together resting at the base of her spine just above that
fabulous ass.
Miss Taylor's wrists were bound together with a set of
tight, fur-lined cuffs.
Her new Mistress was sitting in a large chair next to her,
studying some papers. Absently she reached out a hand and
ran it through Penny's luxurious hair. She gently rubbed
Penny's ear and played her fingers over the strap that held the
gag in place. The hand withdrew to turn a page.
The touch of the hand brought Penny back to the here and
now. Tears formed in the corners of her pretty green eyes and
trickled down her cheeks, over the leather strap of the gag,
under her chin where they met and formed a single tiny rivulet
which slowly made its way down her lovely throat and
between the generous, proudly standing breasts. There were
little freckles dotted around each luscious globe. The nipples
and areolas were of a darker shade that matched her skin tones
well. One of her small round nipples was erect, the skin of the
areola surrounding it tight and crinkled.
The other nipple was clamped into a painfully tight little
clip which the delivering agent had put there for display. He
was from the school and believed a slave should always be
delivered in gag, cuff, and nipple clamp. Especially a slave of
this value.
The tears continued their downward trek across her flat,
supple belly, filling her navel and following the line of almost
invisible hair to her pubic mound. There the tears were
swallowed up by the full pubic bush which was of the same
exquisite color as the hair on her head.
The lady in the chair, having read something which struck
her interest, reached down between Penny's legs and ran her
fingers through her pussy. She became aware of the dampness
of the tears and looked into the redhead's face and
smiled. Then she looked back down and reaching between the
large lips, brought her fingers up into her clit and and
rubbed in a gentle circular pattern. Penny in a deep
breath through her nose and began to tremble. Sure enough,
her moistened in an incredibly short time and was soon
quite wet.
The lady removed her hand, now slick with love juices, and
used it to lift Penny's chin so that they were looking into each
others eyes. "You are a hot little number, aren't you," she said
with a vaguely Italian accent.
With the gag in her mouth, she couldn't speak. But she
had learned one always answered one's owner. Penny nodded
her head, her tears flowing even more freely.
The lady sat back and put down the papers. She pursed
her lips and looked at the agent. "The bastard is certainly
asking a great sum for a who isn't fully trained. He can't
fool me by working through an intermediary."
The agent, who was sitting across from her, smiled.
The Mistress continued, "I can't help but wonder if I'm
getting fleeced here."
"I don't believe you're looking at this properly," he
answered with a British accent. "Had you custom
ordered a of this magnificence you'd probably have paid at
least three times as much."
The Mistress had to give him that.
"And," he continued," you won't have to untrain and then
retrain her to suit your personal preferences--you train her
only once."
The Mistress gave him that, too.
"Besides," he said reaching over and turning her head,
"how often do you come across a property this exquisite." He
motioned for Penny to stand. She did. The had her face
toward her Mistress, sideways, backward. He had her walk
across the room and back. "Look at the way she moves, that
face, that body." He stood up himself and removed the gag.
"Say hello to your new Mistress."
"Hello Mistress." Her voice was as lovely as the rest of
her. It was sexy and very feminine and trembled only slightly.
"And smell your hand, if you'd like a really sensual
experience."
The Mistress had already done so and couldn't remember
a more enticing aroma. Truth be known she was eager to
finish the details of the purchase and get rid of the agent so
that she could be alone with her new slave. She was
protesting mostly for form's sake. It was clear the agent either
wouldn't or couldn't do anything to sweeten the exchange, and
since she had no intention of returning the . . .
"Come with me," she said rising from her chair, "and we'll
take care of the details." She turned to Penny and pointing
back at the spot next to the chair said, "Sit." Penny returned
to her waiting position as the other two left the room. The
tears returned as she thought back over the past year and
everything that had led her to this new life.
* * * * *
It had all seemed so exciting, to have received her
Bachelor's degree in Education at the top of her class from
one of the best colleges in the country. She had the pick of a
number of excellent teaching jobs. She had eventually settled
on Briar Oaks, a small private high school with tremendous
prestige. It wasn't the highest paid job in the world, but would
open all kinds of doors a few years down the road. Briar
Oaks seemed to offer her the best opportunities for doing
something special with her life that would be worthy of her
parents. Besides it had an excellent medical plan and included
free rent of a lovely little house just off campus. That's what
had convinced her in the end. The beautiful country cottage
on a secluded side road which connected the campus to a
park. It was known as faculty row, since most of the younger
faculty lived there. Eventually, teachers who stayed at Briar
Oaks would get and look for something bigger or
move out for other reasons. But for as long as she wanted, as
long as she was teaching at the school, she could stay rent
free. There were a dozen nearly identical houses spread out
over a half mile of faculty row, all out of eye sight and hearing
range of each other. Most of them were nestled well back
from the road itself behind trees and shrubs. As soon as she'd
seen it, Penny had fallen in love with the picturesque little
house.
Then there was the school, rich in tradition, and itself a
lovely place to work. It was built in and around a number of
small lakes and looked more like a country club than a high
school. There were dorms on campus for the large majority
of students who lived there. Only a few commuted in from the
city. The faculty in her department seemed quite pleasant and
the administration, she was told, left the teachers free to teach.
There was none of that school board interference which made
life in the public system so trying.
The students were well above average in intellect and
abilities. The school's reputation drew a great many applicants
and only a very few were admitted. Most of the students
came from families that ranged from moderately well off to
super rich. A few, a notably gifted few, with super I.Q.'s and
tremendous potential, were admitted on scholarship. The
school let them in on either a reduced or waived tuition since
it was these geniuses who made the school's reputation in the
first place. There was a warm collegial atmosphere all around,
unless you were bothered by the ego factors associated with
a tightly packed group of underpaid faculty interacting with
spoiled rich kids and super intelligent weirdo's.
Penny Taylor moved into her new home directly from her
college dorm. The day after graduation she and a
couple of friends packed her belongings into a rented trailer
and drove straight through so that she would arrive the next
day. They traded off driving and helped her unpack and settle
in. After a couple days of sightseeing and partying they left
with tearful goodbyes, promising faithfully that they would
stay in touch. They didn't.
Penny spent the summer working on her classes and
getting to know the city, the campus, and the few students and
faculty who were taking or teaching summer courses. That's
when she first met Randall Locke. Randall was one of the
really intelligent students but unlike many of the others he
seemed quite normal. He also came across as quite a bit more
sophisticated than the average Briar Oaks student. Penny
chalked this up to his coming from a poor and being
more street wise.
She met him in the school library a couple of weeks after
she moved in. She had made an appointment to ask the school
librarian some questions about the collection and he had
promised to take her on a tour. Unfortunately, the day she
was supposed to get her tour, the library received several new
shipments of books which had to be cataloged. 'Would it be
all right if we did the tour later?' Penny had no problem
waiting, but just then this handsome man, who had been
watching and listening from a near by table, stepped up and
volunteered to help the pretty new teacher in distress.
"My name is Randall," he said. "I'd be more than happy to
give you a tour of the library."
The librarian added, "Mr. Locke is one of our brightest
minds and I'm sure can answer most of your questions. Just
let me know tomorrow if there is anything you still need."
And with smiles all around, the librarian went back to his
stacks and Randall escorted the new teacher through the
library.
"You didn't ask my name," she said.
"You're Miss Taylor. Miss Francis Taylor known
to your friends as Penny. You just graduated Summa
Laude from . . ."
Penny interrupted, "Pardon me, but how do you know all
this about me?"
He looked at her and grinned, "Computers. Nothing is
secret anymore if you know how to work through the net."
"But why, did you look up my information in the first
place?"
"I'm thinking of taking a class from you in the fall. I didn't
know anything about you and wanted to find out. I hope I
didn't offend." His manner seemed sincere enough.
"Not at all," penny lied. "Actually I'm flattered," which
was true. "I was just curious how you knew so much."
But what Penny didn't know about him was that he had
already developed an unusual strategy for gaining power over
young women and was seriously thinking about trying it out
on her.
* * * * *
When Penny was a high school honor student herself,
Randall Locke was just entering his teens. His had
died in a car accident when he was quite young. He didn't
remember them. All he remembered was a drunken aunt and
her succession of abusive boyfriends. He learned early to
make himself scarce. As long as he did, no one seemed to
know or care where he was or what he was doing.
What he did most days, from the time he was enough
to wander off on his own, was to hang out at a local
arcade. He made friends with the owner who was a computer
jock. The owner would spend his days keeping his arcade
machines in good repair and writing computer programs.
Before he had left elementary school, Randall had learned a
variety of computer languages and the owner would even let
him help write some of the simpler programs. He gave the
boy an computer as a graduation present. Randall
smuggled it into the basement of his house and hid it so that
his mother's latest sex partner wouldn't steal it to pawn. He
was soon a legitimate computer prodigy and an accomplished
hacker.
In the course of hacking he had broken into some rather
impressive computer systems including an international
monetary exchange, a foreign military alliance, several federal
agencies, and a rather obscure little network which turned out
to be hooked to a large and powerful white slave organization
known as the Mart. Like any business, the Mart had to keep
records--customer lists, addresses, phone numbers, product
descriptions, inventory, staff, facilities, etc. With the advent
of modern technology the Mart had computerized. And along
with computers they had hired hackers of their own to run the
system and to insure security. So when security was
breached, an incredibly rare event in itself, a number of
automatic systems went into effect. One of these was able to
tell the Mart's hackers exactly where the intruder was calling
from.
Even as Randall was reading through a bunch of
fascinating sales flyers describing beautiful women who
had been abducted and trained as sex slaves, his home phone
and address were located and the decision made to have him
quietly eliminated. The order went out to a semi-retired
master who lived in the area.
Master Eugene was in his mid 50's and lived in a modest
little mansion on the edge of town. His home was not far
from the Briar Oaks campus, in fact. He was told to scope
out the address of the hacker, positively identify the individual,
and then order up the agents who would do the wet work.
Once he discovered Randall was just a brilliant teenager, he
decided to try something else first.
He wrote a letter of invitation and had a company hacker
download it into Randall's system. If the ignored the
letter Master Eugene would have him downloaded into a three
by seven foot in the ground. If the responded,
however . . . well, he would wait and see.
A week later, Randall Locke showed up for dinner at
Master Eugene's mansion and was greeted by a comely
woman wearing nothing but a collar with her name on it and
wrist and ankle cuffs. Over dinner, which had been served by
another beautiful and taller girl, similarly attired, Master
Eugene decided that Randall was highly sophisticated for his
age, possessed no ethical or moral restrictions to speak of, and
was a horny little bastard.
After dinner there was coffee and dessert in the den.
Master Eugene went ahead and told him a little about the Mart
and gauged his responses. He warned him about the need for
absolute secrecy and the penalties for betraying that secrecy.
Then the Master casually asked if he might be interested in
becoming involved. He suggested, Randall, could help with
computer work for awhile and eventually when he was older,
who knows. He would even be paid for his computer work.
Randall accepted eagerly.
Master Eugene fixed Randall with a cold stare, "Absolute
secrecy and no second chances. It might interest you to know
the Mart had a contract out on your life, just for reading their
files. I arranged to have it put on hold. You do anything to
screw it up, you embarrass me, and the hold is off."
Randall wasn't even fazed--he had no intention of screwing
up.
'We'll see,' the Master thought to himself. But for now. .
.,' and then he said aloud, "This calls for a celebration." And
then raising his voice he called out, "Girls!"
* * * * *
Master Eugene and Randall were seated on a sofa as three
girls arrived and assembled themselves before them. All three
had light brown hair and great bodies. Master Eugene
introduced them:
"This is Carolena," he indicated the who and met him
at the door. Carolena was five foot six with a thin athletic
build. She was well muscled but very feminine. Her
were large and quite round. She had the prettiest face of the
three with very full sensuous lips. Randall noticed while all
three had the same shade of light brown hair, Carolena's
pubic hair was darker than the other two.
"Carolena is twenty-three and used to be a waitress. One
night at dinner I complimented her on her looks. I'm afraid
she wasn't very nice and I thought she needed some lessons in
manners." Carolena lowered her eyes and looked
embarrassed. "That's O.K. dear, it was long ago and long
forgiven." She looked back up and brightened. "She's given
me excellent service ever since. Haven't you dear?"
"Yes, Master." Her voice was and sexy and
enthusiastic.
"This is Victoria," he indicated the in the middle who
had done most of the serving during dinner. She was the
tallest of the three, perhaps five-eleven, and had very large
breasts on a thin frame. Her nipples were long as well. Her
face was nice with large eyes and a very wide mouth. She had
long, long legs and very white skin.
"Victoria is only twenty and adopted so to speak. She was
originally picked up in Canada. She was studying to become
a dancer, weren't you dear?"
"Yes, Master." Her voice was high and very sweet.
"A customer ordered her through the free lancer who
recruited her himself and botched her training. Then there was
a falling out with the customer that threatened to go public, so
the Mart sent me to find out what the hell was going on." He
fixed Randall with a cold stare. "Once I did, I arranged for an
agent who quietly liquidated them both." Randall didn't flinch
and the Master turned his attention back to Victoria and
continued. "There were three and I didn't have the heart
to have them put to sleep. But I couldn't exactly turn them
loose either. So at my own expense I brought them back here
where I retrained them. That was about a year ago. I've since
sold the other two--at a profit actually. But Victoria was my
favorite so I kept her."
Victoria was obviously pleased with the compliment.
"Now Alexia has been with me for years," he said beaming
at her. "You just turned twenty-nine, didn't you, dear?
"Thirty-three, Master," she replied with pleasure. Alexia
had a deep and sultry voice with what Randall took to be an
English accent and she dimpled when she smiled. Master
Eugene winked at Randall.
Alexia could have easily passed for her mid to late
twenties. She was five-eight and had a rounder and more
womanly body than the other two. Her were not quite
so large but they were very shapely and her nipples were large
and pink. Her pubic hair grew very short or it had been
trimmed. But most of all, there was something about her face,
something in her eyes perhaps that found tremendously
attractive.
"Before I retired, I worked for many years as the training-
master of a South African gentleman. The job paid quite
handsomely as you can tell by my retirement arrangements.
Benefits of a job which might eventually be yours if you can
keep your mouth shut. . . ."
Randall looked around the luxurious room, looked back at
the three who were standing patiently waiting on their
Master's pleasure, and smiled. He certainly would keep his
mouth shut.
". . . Alexia was one of the I trained while in his
employ," Master Eugene was saying. "She was an Australian
nurse, right out of school and out to see the world. Putting in
some volunteer time at a local clinic. Then she came to the
owner's attention. When I retired a few years back I was
entitled to take one personal slave with me. I took Alexia.
The prettiest slave in the stable." The Master smiled at her
and she beamed back.
Then he turned to Randall and said, "Girls, this is Mr.
Locke. Don't let his youth fool you. This little genius
managed to shake up the entire Mart by breaking into their
computer records. Now he has decided to join the
organization and I think we ought to give him a proper
welcome." The three slaves observed Randall with curiosity
and respect.
"Randall," the Master said, "Which one do you like the
best?"
Randall's eyes went big. He could guess what was coming.
He stared at the three girls. Alexia was beautiful, but she was
so old. Victoria was the youngest, but she was so tall, an inch
taller than Randall. Carolena was only a little than
Victoria and she was so pretty. He picked her.
Master Eugene stood up smiling. "Randall," he said, "one
of the obligations of a good master is to keep his slaves
contented. And a slave will only take sexual pleasure at her
master's bidding. I'm afraid I haven't been a very good master
lately; I've been too tied up with projects. I think these poor
girls are a more than a little starved for attention."
"Ladies," he said turning to the three slave girls, "why don't
you take Mr. Locke to the big bedroom and show him, and
yourselves, a good time. And Carolena, you please take
especially good care of our friend here. I've got some
telephone calls to make and some other work to finish." Then
he turned to Randall and said, Oh, by the way, when do you
have to leave to go home."
"It doesn't really matter," he replied grinning. "Nobody
cares. My aunt probably thinks I'm staying over with a
friend."
"And so you are," replied the Master as he turned and
walked out of the room. "And so you are."
* * * * * End of Part 1 * * * * *
BLACKMAILED INTO BONDAGE
by Zebulon
This may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being posted,
and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site where it is
being posted.
* * * * *