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SDIS13 young girl stay She thought she
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 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 - No Sex)
* * * * * Start of Part 13 * * * * *
Another interested party who became aware of the Yoshi
contract was Master Alfred Wiesel. He was impressed by
the size of the offer and tingled at the memory of his recent
visit to the Mart security headquarters. There had been a
girl in a holding cage. A beautiful who had been there
for a very long time. She had been a graduate student with
a degree in journalism.
He made a few calls and identified the buyer behind the
Hong Kong contract. He contacted Yoshi's Slave Mistress
and had a nice long chat. Then he set up a meeting with
Number One.
Master Wiesel was going to offer to take over the care
and training of Staci Davis. He had prepared a list of
reasons why the shouldn't be left to rot in a holding cell.
With every passing day her future training would be more
difficult. She had a certain intrinsic value which would be
ruined through this cavalier treatment. If he were to take
over her care and training, it would be better for her, better
for the Mart, and better for her eventual buyer. Master
Wiesel was ready to fill a good hour with the arguments he
had in defense of his proposal.
He got as far as, "Good morning, Number One."
"This sudden interest in the welfare of Miss Davis," One
had replied, "it wouldn't happen to be connected with the
Yoshi contract out of Hong Kong, would it?"
Master Wiesel should have known that Number One
would put two and two together. He was caught flat-
footed, but recovered almost immediately. "Of course.
There was little I could do to help the before a proper
home became available."
"Please. Spare me. Under ordinary circumstances, I'd
tell you to go dive into a cesspool. However, our own
Slave Mistress is going nuts at Miss Davis' long-term stay.
And despite your manifest self-interest, you are absolutely
right. She ought to be either properly trained or put down."
Master Wiesel winced at the thought of a valuable
property like Staci being simply drowned like a kitten.
"Since we have to keep her available," One continued,
"at least for the time being, it makes sense to get her out of
the holding pens and into a proper training program."
Master Wiesel brightened.
"But there are conditions."
"Of course."
Number One wanted Wiesel to be clear as to the
seriousness of his conditions. "Alfred. If you take this
and violate the conditions I am about to impose, I promise
I will order a contract on you that same day."
"Number One!" Master Wiesel was shocked.
"Just listen to what I'm telling you. This must
remain intact and constantly available. No drugs. I need
access to her conscious self at the drop of a hat. You will
keep us informed of where she is at all times. You will
inform us of any intention to change her location before she
is moved. You will not transfer ownership or move her at
all without our prior approval. It will be necessary to talk
with Yoshi's Slave Mistress first, before the deal is struck,
to be sure she understands and is willing to take on these
same conditions. Is that clear?"
"Is she that important?" Master Wiesel was considerably
impressed.
"Is that clear?"
"Yes, Number One."
"And you understand and agree to the conditions?"
There was a slight pause while Master Wiesel
considered. "Yes, Number One."
"Take her."
* * * * *
Madam Zeldona became aware of competition for the
Hong Kong contract when she called the book dealer to
make arrangements for delivery. Amy's training was coming
along well and she wanted to set a date.
"You understand," the book dealer had emphasized,
"that this transaction is still contingent on the buyer's
approval."
"Of course," Madam Zeldona had said. "Why do you
keep reminding me of that? The product is perfectly
acceptable."
The book dealer debated whether or not to tell her. In
the end he decided it was fairer to let her know. "It is
possible," he said, "that another seller might contact the
buyer directly with a superior item. In that case, the buyer
might reject your offering simply because it wasn't as high
quality."
Madam Zeldona's ire began to rise. "Are you telling me
that even though I have first rights in this transaction and fill
all the required specifications, I can still be cut out?"
"Actually, yes. I know it's less than ethical, but the
practice is not uncommon."
"Who the hell is the other seller?"
The book dealer debated even harder on whether or not
to tell her. He wasn't supposed to know. This Madam
Zeldona was such a novice. She really had no business
working this aspect of the market. "You probably need to
contact the buyer's manager directly to get that
information." He told her how to contact Yoshi's Slave
Mistress.
Madam Zeldona made the contact and found out about
Master Wiesel and Staci. She then called Number One at
Mart security and bitched to him for over an hour.
* * * * *
It was a beautiful autumn evening when a plump little
old woman came hobbling into the station. She had long,
unkempt graying hair and a slightly stooped posture. She
wore orthopedic shoes and seemed to have trouble walking.
She wore ragged clothes, a wide brimmed hat, and looked
like she had been living on the streets for some time. She
carried a huge lumpy shopping bag. She claimed to have a
message from someone called Alice Summers which she
could only give personally to Deborah Turner.
Deborah came out of a back room looking ashen. 'Alice
Summers' was a name she had never expected to hear again.
"What's the message," she asked the hag.
The woman looked around nervously. Several
workers were within earshot. With her long hair and big hat
it was difficult to see the woman's face. "Can we talk
privately, later?" she asked in a quiet voice.
"O.K., where and when?"
"I will wait for you outside," she almost whispered.
"When you leave, I will come up to you."
"Let me get a few things and I'll be right out."
"No." The woman seemed upset. Her voice was still
quiet but agitated. "Take your time. Leave when you
normally would. Do not let anyone connect your leaving
with my arrival. For God sake, act normal." The woman
turned and hobbled out.
"Who was that?" someone asked after she'd left.
Deborah regained her composure and made up a
plausible lie quickly--"the lead to a story."
"Must be one hell of a story."
"Maybe."
* * * * *
A couple of hours later Deborah left the building. She
wasn't surprised to see the woman hobble out of the
shadows and follow her. Deborah stopped to look in a
store window and let woman catch up.
"Give me your address and I will meet you there." The
old woman was still talking quietly, so it was difficult to
hear her voice.
"Who the hell are you?"
"I am a friend of Staci's"
"I thought you said 'Alice Summers'."
"Did you want me to use the name Staci Davis in public?
Staci disappeared. I thought you would not want me to
mention her name in front of others."
Deborah understood and said nothing.
"Please let us meet at your home. I will tell you about
Staci and tell you my story, too. Then if you want me to
leave I will. I will make no trouble for you."
Deborah gave the woman her address with strong
misgivings. The woman disappeared into an ally.
Two hours later Deborah was at home, drinking a glass
of wine to settle her nerves. It was the first drink she had
taken since the auction. The doorbell rang. The woman
seemed a little taller and less decrepit. She wasn't hobbling.
"Thank you for letting me meet you here. My name is
Rhonda Mller. I shared a cell with Staci for three weeks.
We talked a lot. She told me all about you. Please do not
be upset. I am wearing a disguise. I would like to take it
off."
Deborah nodded dumbly. Rhonda removed the hat and
ratty gray wig. She had short hair. Deborah could now
see where the woman make-up stopped and the girl's
real skin began. It was a good make-up job, but would have
been obvious in bright light without the wig and hat. The
girl stepped out of the clunky shoes. She removed several
layers of clothes. It dropped at least 30 pounds from
her appearance. Rhonda Mller was thin and quite young.
She looked to be in her mid-twenties.
Deborah invited the to sit. She got her a drink.
The 'message' from Staci turned out to be little more
than a description of how she looked and sounded when
they were caged together. Rhonda told Deborah what had
happened to Staci since the auction, and repeated the
she had told Staci about herself. She reached the part
where her Master had died and she had been collected by
the Mart and taken to the holding cells. She described her
experience with Staci as the happiest time she had spent in
captivity.
"They gave me to the German. I was hoping they would
not but they did. It was almost too much to stand. To go
from being with Staci to going to that pig. A Dom was
taking me to him. We were in a big car with a chauffeur
when there was an accident. The driver hit his head and was
knocked out. The Dom was shaken up but she was not hurt.
I am not sure why I did it. Maybe it was fear of the German.
Maybe it was the anger of losing Staci. I hit the Dom hard in
the head with my elbow. I exercise a lot and am quite strong.
I hit her several times. They were both unconscious. Then I
moved quickly. I took their money. The glass of the car
was very dark so it was hard for anyone to see what I did.
The Dom had a lot of money and the driver a little more. I
got out and walked away before anyone could stop me. I
took a taxi to the train. I took the first train going
anywhere. I changed trains. Then I got off and bought a
wig and some makeup. I got some different shoes and
clothes. I got back to the train and thought about where I
could go. I thought of you."
"But how did you get here? You were in Europe. You
needed a passport."
"My Master. The one who died. He was an
arranger for the Mart. He made all kinds of arrangements
and I helped him. One of the things he could arrange was a
false passport and false travel papers. I knew what to do
and arranged to go to Canada. In Canada I had time to buy
things for new disguises. Then I took a bus here. I tried to
find you in the phone book but there was no number. From
Staci's description I was able to find your television station."
Deborah was almost numb by the time Rhonda had
finished talking. It was well past midnight. "And now that
you've found me. What do you want?"
"Can you help me? Can you hide me? You are a
journalist. I want you to tell my on your television
station. I want you to destroy the Mart."
Deborah was shaking her head as the talked. "No,"
she said. "I can't help you. I wish I could, but I can't. They
are watching me. They would kill me. I can't help you.
You'd better leave now."
"Please do not make me go yet. Let me finish what I
have to say. The Mart is not nearly so big or powerful as
they pretend. I know. I helped make arrangements. I also
know how they work. No one is watching you. At least no
one was watching you until maybe I escaped. They know I
was caged with Staci so maybe they will watch you for a
little while. That is why I was so careful. But no one is
watching you most of the time. They have too few people
for that. They watch you through your phone, through your
computer."
"Through the computer?"
"Yes, through the big computer at the station. They
listen to lots of computers all the time to look for words
that mean someone knows about them."
"I kept computer files on my research at the station."
"That is how they found out you knew about them. That
is how they were prepared to catch you. They will still read
your files at the computer."
"I don't keep files there anymore. I don't keep any files
on that anymore."
"That is good. Then they can not read them."
"You said they also tap my phone?"
"Yes. Not before they knew who you were. But after
they read your files they probably tapped your phone to
keep track of who you called and what you said. They
probably monitor your phone at the station too. That is not
so difficult for them."
Deborah didn't know what to do. Even if this was
right and she wasn't being watched all the time, the Mart
would certainly find out and kill her if she tried to go public.
"I'm sorry Rhonda, but I still don't think I can help you. It
would probably be best if you left."
Rhonda started weeping. "I have no place to go. Would
it be all right, please, if I stay here for the night?"
Deborah bit her lip and looked uncertain.
"Please," the almost begged, "I promise there is no
added danger."
"O.K. Are you hungry? Would you like to get cleaned
up?"
"Thank you, I am not hungry, but would very much like
to take a shower."
When Rhonda emerged from the shower, Deborah could
see that she was really quite attractive. She wasn't at all shy
about her body. Deborah gave her some pajamas. They
were much too large and made her look even smaller. She
slept on the sofa front of the fireplace.
Deborah was extremely agitated about the decision to let
the stay. She thought she would make better
decisions in the morning, after some sleep. But her mind
kept churning and she didn't fall asleep until very late.
* * * * * End of Part 13 * * * * *
STACI DAVIS: INVESTIGATIVE SLAVE
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.