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SDIS09 thick soft material It felt good

STACI DAVIS: INVESTIGATIVE SLAVE

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 story 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

(Transition - not much sex)

* * * * * Start of Part 9 * * * * *

The flight from the Caribbean to the headquarters of the

Mart was uneventful. After being rolled off stage, Staci had

been pushed into a corner. They had removed the chain

around her neck but left her hanging until the auction was well

over. They got to her when it was time to disassemble and

pack the frame in which she had been bound.

"What shall we do with her, Mistress Ruby?" one of the

staff slaves had asked.

"She's leaving with Number One. In fact, you'd better

hurry with her. I'm sure One will want to get started soon.

Pack her into a containment box and sedate her for the trip."

She took a second look at the limp figure. "And see to her

injuries. We want to be sure she arrives in one piece. After

that I could care less."

Staci was unconscious when they took her down and laid

her on the floor. A girl came over with a medical kit and

worked on her limp body. The damage was almost entirely

superficial. Bruises around the breasts and crotch, lash

marks, scratches, abrasions around the wrists and ankles.

Her face seemed drawn and worried, but the blood was

flowing back. She began to move slightly and twitch. The

girl removed the rubber ball and checked her mouth for

damage. Staci make little moaning noises.

The girl rolled her over and saw to her back side. She

inspected her anus to check for damage. There didn't seem

to be any. Staci had been well lubricated.

Staci opened her eyes just as the girl was finishing. She

tried to move, but everything ached so much she just lay

still. She lay on her belly and watched the final disassembly

of the terrible frame on which she had been hung. It wasn't

until the girl got up and took one last look that she realized

that Staci's eyes were open. She rolled her over on her

back again. Staci winced and groaned, but didn't otherwise

move or protest.

A man came up pushing what looked like a long silver

coffin on wheels. Together they lifted and set her inside. It

was lined with some thick soft material. It felt good against

her skin. The woman cuffed her ankles together and

hooked the cuffs to a short strap set in the base of the

coffin. She came around and pulled Staci's arms up over

her head, cuffed them, and linked the cuffs to the top of the

coffin. She felt a pinprick inside her elbow. The man was

injecting her with something. She tried to feebly protest

when the girl popped a fresh gag back into her mouth. Staci

gave up. She was too tired and sore to fight.

Consciousness soon left her again. She was already asleep

when the coffin was sealed and loaded onto a waiting truck.

* * * * *

Staci awoke in a cage. She was still naked but

unfettered. She was lying on her back on a rubber mat. Her

first sight as she opened her eyes was the thick wire mesh

framework of the roof of her cage. Her whole body was

sore.

Moving slowly and carefully she sat up and looked

around.

She couldn't see much. What she did see looked like a

cross between a prison and a kennel. She was in a large

steel cage, eight feet square and seven feet high. There

seemed to be a number of cages in a row. The cages were

surrounded by stone walls. Each cell had a large square

rubber mat which just about covered the concrete floor.

The roof above the cages was sharply slanted. She seemed

to be in more of a porch than a building. One side was

completely open letting in fresh air and dim sunlight. It was

either early morning or late evening. She stood up. Even

with the openness of the wire mesh, the low ceiling made

her feel claustrophobic. Everything was dull brown and

ugly grey.

Staci tried to inspect her body to see how badly she had

been injured, but the light was poor. She was covered with

ugly welts and felt incredibly stiff. Everything hurt, but she

didn't seem to have suffered any serious injuries. The

memories of the auction came flooding back and she started

trembling violently. She sat back down and cried for a long

time.

When she looked up again it was almost dark. Lights

suddenly came on. Staci stood and took a better look at her

new world. There were six cages. Or rather, there was one

long cage divided into six cubicles by five walls. The walls

of the cages were of thin steel, cross hatched for extra

strength. There was enough room to completely fit her arm

through the spaces between the bars, but there would be no

breaking out. She couldn't hope to budge the bars without

tools. The cages filled up most of a trench-like area defined

by the stone walls. There was a wide walkway which ran

along the front of cages. There was a heavy wooden door

in the stone wall at one end of the walk. The steel walls of

her cage were sunk into the concrete floor. The walls and

ceiling of the cells were set into the stone wall opposite the

walkway. There was no way out of the cage except for the

locked door. Staci was in the last cell back from the

entrance. There was a pile of old blankets in the first cage

at the other end. Otherwise they all seemed to be empty.

The door opened. And old man walked in carrying a

couple of small baskets. He shut the door behind him. It

closed with a definitive click. The pile of blankets in the

first cage moved. Another naked girl crawled out and came

up to the door of her cage. The man opened the door and

handed her a basket. She took it, picking up an empty one

which Staci hadn't noticed and giving it back to him. She

glanced briefly at Staci but showed no interest. Turning her

back, the girl sat and opened her basket. The old man
headed toward Staci's cell. She came up to the door to

meet him.

The old man stopped at her cage and stared at her for a

long moment. "You speak English, Ja? he asked in a quiet

weathered voice."

Staci nodded.

He pointed back at the door through which he had

entered. "Is locked, Ja?"

Staci nodded again.

He pointed up at the ceiling. "Is cameras, there, und

there, und there. You understand?"

"Yes, I see."

"You no make trouble, or other men come and make for

you lots of pain, Ja?"

"I understand. I won't make trouble."

The old man smiled at her and opened the door. He

handed her a basket. She took it. She expected him to

close the door immediately and leave. Instead he seemed to

be waiting for her to look up again. She did. He pointed at

the floor behind her. There was a large hole in the corner of

her cell. "Is toilet, Ja?"

"OK."

He pointed up at the stone wall above the hole. There

was s spigot set into the wall with a small hose coiled

around it. "Is for cleaning, Ja? For cleaning hole; for

cleaning you, Ja? And for drinking, Ja?"

"Ja," Staci said.

"You want blanket?" he asked.

"Yes, please."

Without bothering to lock the door he walked away. He

opened a closet she hadn't noticed, fumbled around a bit.

He brought back two blankets and a bar of soap.

"Thank you," she said.

He smiled and left, locking her cage door behind him.

Staci laid the blankets on the floor and sat. The girl in

cage one was still ignoring her. She opened the basket and

found food. She was ravenously hungry. It surprised her

that the food was excellent. As she ate the lights went out.

She finished her meal by reflected starlight and heard the

sounds of the other girl using the toilet. She heard running

water. Then silence.

Staci got up and stepped carefully over to her own toilet.

It wasn't much, but she needed it badly. She squatted down

and relieved herself. There was no toilet paper. Only the

hose and the soap. She used them. The water was cool,

but the room was warm. Heat was being pumped in from

somewhere. At least she wouldn't freeze to death. She

went ahead and took a full shower of sorts. The floor was

slightly canted and the water drained into the hole. She

used one of the blankets to dry herself. She assumed she

would be interrogated in the morning. There was nothing

she could do about that. She wasn't tired but lay down to

sleep anyway. Instead she spent a fitful night trying not to

think about the future.

* * * * *

In the morning the old man brought her breakfast and

the girl in cage one continued to pretend she didn't exist.

Staci spent a stressful day waiting for someone to come for

her. She tried to communicate with the girl in the first cage.

She had no luck. She tried wearing one of the blankets to

cover her nakedness. It was terribly uncomfortable. The

old man laughed when he brought lunch. She spent a

boring afternoon pacing and sweating. The old man
brought dinner. At least the food was still good.

In the morning the girl in the first cage was gone. The

old man brought breakfast and then carefully cleaned out

the empty cage. And still no one had come for her.

Two days later, Staci had given up trying to cover

herself with the blanked and there was another girl in the

first cell. Staci saw her led in. She was fully clothed. In

fact, she was dressed rather elegantly in conservative

business attire. Her arms were cuffed behind her. She

looked disconsolate and was afraid to make eye contact

with Staci. A few hours later she was led away.

After a week of this Staci was sure that no one was

going to come get her. Ms. Turner certainly wasn't coming

to the rescue. And her captors seemed to have no interest

in anything but keeping her captive.

Several girls came and went. They were always put in

cage one or two. They stayed for anywhere from a couple

of hours to a couple of days. During the third week, a large

evil looking Doberman was brought in and put in the first

cage. It barked and snarled at Staci for a long time until he

finally settled down and just glowered. Two days later the

dog was gone.

During the fifth week her little prison was suddenly

crowded. There was a girl in every cage with two girls in

cages one and three. They were oriental girls and none of

them spoke English. A doctor came and gave each girl,

including Staci, a physical examination. A dentist came and

checked and cleaned their teeth. Soon after, hard looking

men and women came to look at the girls. They reminded

Staci of Mistress Rayna and Mistress Synklair. The girls
started to disappear one or two at a time. In just over a

week they were all gone.

One day, the old man brought a medium sized poodle.

The dog seemed very friendly. He started to put it in cage

one and then looked over at Staci. She smiled and nodded

hoping he might cage it next to her. He did. She spent a

couple of relatively happy days, talking to the dog and

petting it through the steel bars. Then the dog was gone

and the monotony went on.

* * * * *

Staci spent most of her time lying around and feeling

sorry for herself. She thought a lot about God. She had

never been very religious, but had been brought up to

believe that everything that happens is somehow for the

best. 'God never gives you anything you can't handle,' her

mother used to say time and time again. 'But why is God

giving me this?' she wondered. 'What did I do to deserve it?

How much of this does he think I can handle?' She kept

looking for reasons and couldn't find any.

* * * * *

By the end of three months, Staci looked like hell. Her

hair was ratty. She was developing a small pot belly. She

was depressed beyond words. The old man came in one

morning and frowned at her for a long time. He left only to

return a short time later with a bright metal suitcase. He put

it outside her cell against the far wall before leaving

breakfast. 'What the hell is that for,' she wondered. She

spent a fitful morning worrying about it until she looked

beyond the case and saw her reflection in the shiny metal.

She wanted to cry. The old man took the suitcase away at

lunch time.

That afternoon, Staci did some simple stretching and

light exercise for the first time since the day of the auction.

Then she had a long shower doing the best she could with

her hair. The physical activity and self grooming left her

feeling better. When the old man brought dinner he smiled

which made her feel even better still.

Next morning she found a comb and a tube of shampoo

in the basket with her breakfast. After that the old man
would bring her other toiletry items from time to time.

* * * * *

Within a few months, Staci was back in good physical

condition. However, she was ready to go out of her mind

with the monotony and isolation. The mysterious visitor

changed that.

On several occasions a strange man or woman would

show up and be given a tour of her little world. Most of

these tours were in languages other than English. But from

the few conversations she could understand, Staci figured

out that she was in a temporary holding cell. Apparently,

she decided, they didn't quite know what to do with her and

were just keeping her there.

The stranger was one of VIP's being given the tour. He

seemed different from the others who had come before him

--less hard, but somehow more dangerous.

Staci didn't know what language they were speaking. It

didn't sound like French, but the guide called him Duval.

He was given his tour in the morning. And then something

very unusual happened. He came back. He came back with

the old man at lunch time and stood for a long while looking

at her through the cage door. He was just her height and

quite thin. There was something about him which made

Staci think he might be a spy. Not a spy who was come to

set her free. Just a spy. He said something which she didn't

understand. She shrugged her shoulders and answered in

English. He shrugged back at her and smiled. She returned

his smile.

He stepped up to the door of her cell and motioned for

her to do the same. Staci had long since lost her

awkwardness and feelings of modesty at being naked. She

wasn't sure if she were supposed to obey the stranger, but

wanted to avoid trouble. Besides he was being more

friendly with her than anyone else except perhaps the old
man. She came up to him. He looked at her for a little

while and then reached into her cell to touch her face.

Staci held her ground. She liked the feel of his hand on

her cheek. It was warm and somehow comforting. He was

gentle. She hadn't felt a kind human touch in a long time.

He stroked her cheek a couple of times and then ran his

hand down the side of her neck. She still didn't move. The

hand withdrew and moved down past one of the horizontal

bars. It came back at breast level and moved slowly toward

her right breast. Staci bit her lip and made a quick decision.

She let him touch her. She felt his fingers on her nipple.

The hand opened and cupped her breast. There was no

freakish sensations of pleasure or pain, just the warm

comforting feeling of the man's hand.

And just as suddenly as he had appeared, the stranger

left.

Staci sighed and turned back to her lunch.

That evening, shortly after dinner, a short, evil looking

woman came to her. The woman reminded Staci of the

Mistresses at the auction. Staci jumped up and moved to

the back of her cell.

The woman eyed her coldly. "It seems Herr Duval has

taken a fancy to you," she said in excellent but heavily

accented English. You are to be cleaned up and made

presentable for him." The woman looked piercingly at her

and shook her head. "Why he wants a totally untrained

piece like you when he could have the choice of my best is

beyond me. However, that is his wish and that is how it will

be." She looked into Staci's eyes and said, "Do you

understand what I'm telling you?"

"Not exactly, . . . Mistress." Staci wasn't sure if this was

a "Mistress" like those at the auction, but thought it best to

assume she was.

"You will come with me," the woman said crisply. "You

will be cleaned and perfumed. You will go to Herr Duval's

room when he is ready for you. And you will do your very

best to satisfy him. Is that clear enough?"

"Yes, Mistress." Staci wasn't sure how she felt about

that. But seeing as she obviously had no choice. . . .

* * * * * End of Part 9 * * * * *

STACI DAVIS: INVESTIGATIVE SLAVE

by Zebulon

This story 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.