CHAPTER ONE
Mike smiled as he stepped into the
larger of the complex's two training rooms.
He knew he'd come to a very important moment in
the life he'd chosen. For the past two
years he'd had some fun and made a bit of money acting
as assistant to Andy and the big guy in their business of breaking girls and
turning them into sex slaves. It was a
good job. To be sure, sometimes he was
asked to work long hours-- but Mike enjoyed the physical aspects of the work,
and the Guys provided him with a comfortable place to live and access to enough
girls to keep him happy.
There was only one thing missing
from his world--responsibility - the ability to do things his own way.
And now he had an opportunity to do
just that. A few minutes earlier, Andy
had called him into the office and given him an assignment as head trainer for
a new girl who had just arrived - something of a special case, he was
told. Mike, of course, had instantly
agreed - after all, he'd been requesting this kind of
opportunity for some time.
The burly man shook his hand, grinned and handed him the background folder on his first
training assignment - then told him which training room to use and gave him an
assistant of his very own!
Now, Mike stood in that assigned
room eyeing the box that had been carefully placed in the very center of the
cement floor. The box was wooden and
about the size of a military footlocker - at first glance, it didn't seem big enough to hold anything aside from clothing
and toiletries--but Mike knew that the subject was inside. He smiled as he remembered Andy's complaints
about the use of the box: He kept trying to impress on me that this
was a very poor way of transporting decent slave meat. Mike walked around the box, checking for
damage of any kind. He told me that using a box like this was far too big a risk - it's fragile - it could open in the wrong place-- or get
dropped and damage the merchandise inside...
Fortunately, Mike's inspection
showed that neither had happened - the box was here and safe. Mike couldn't wait
to open it and see what was inside.
I hope she's good-looking.
Mike knew there was no guarantee of that. The guys took prospective slaves from all
sorts of clients - some of the ones Mike had assisted with had been far less
attractive then he would have preferred - and the folder, which he had only
glanced at, did not contain a photo. Why worry about it? Let's just take a
look and find out!
Mike's master key fit the lock that
held the footlocker shut. He turned it once,
flicked back the catches and pulled the box open.
***
The girl inside did seem to
come up to his hopes and expectations - she might even exceed them. Let's pull her out and
see what's what! With a nod of his
head, Mike summoned his new assistant over and, together, they lifted the limp
form out of the footlocker and laid her out, full-length, on the floor. Mike stepped back to give her a quick and
expert appraisal: Tall, maybe five foot nine or ten.
He looked a bit more closely at her face. A bit older than our usual pick-ups. He shrugged. Around thirty or so. Nice red hair, though - he reached down and pulled her
pants and panties down far enough to check out her bush. Real,
tool! That's a
bonus! He turned his attention to
her chest, ripping her blouse open for a quick look. Good tits - big and firm - and
genuine-- no enhancements! Mike
smiled. This one is gonna be fun to play with!
As Mike and
his assistant began the job of stripping the unconscious woman, Mike mentally
ran over the briefing he had gotten from Andy.
He wants me to break her quick - but
doesn't care what kind of training I give her. Mike knew that Andy and the big guy were a
little concerned about this one. Don't know why. Mike undid her belt buckle and pulled the
faux leather strap through the belt loops on her tailored black pants. He smiled when the gun and badge threaded
onto the belt dropped loose. Just because she's from the FBI doesn't mean
she's anything special. He took the
badge and stuck it in his pocket. Best I teach her that right away. It'll save us both a lot of time and trouble!
As his
assistant pulled away the remnants of the woman's bra, Mike regarded the
now-naked figure at his feet. Good muscle tone, he touched her mid-section,
noting the lack of fat there. Notes say she was a gymnast in high school - until
she got a growth spurt and got too tall.
He smiled. It's obvious that her breasts got too big as
well. He ran a hand across those
mounds, felt their firmness. She must spend a lot of time working out.
He smiled at
the thought. She doesn't know what a real workout is like -
not yet, anyway!
Mike turned to
his assistant: "She'll be out for at least a few more minutes - let's get her
in place before she comes to."
The two men
each grabbed a shoulder and pulled the girl to one side of the big room. "I think we'll use that," Mike lowered a
shoulder to indicate a device near the corner.
"Yeah, that should be just fine for this one!"
A few minutes
later, Mike stood back to admire their work.
The shapely body of the FBI agent was now fixed to a kind of thick and
adjustable metal stake with two crossbars.
Her shoulders had been pulled across the top cross bar, then he had
pulled her wrists down the back of the stake until he could lock them into
shackles attached at about waist level.
Her feet were then pulled up, the knees bent over the lower crossbar and
her ankles shackled just under her wrists.
Pegs in the corners of the bottom crossbar held her knees out and away
from her body, effectively spread-eagling her lower body while all her weight
dangled from her shoulders.
Mike pushed a
padded brace under her hips - it would force her belly and cunt forward - displaying
them to her captors and adding to her vulnerability. The padding would prevent damage to her spine
or kidneys.
Mike wanted to
add a nice ball gag - blue will go well
with her coloring, I think - but knew he didn't dare do that until she was
fully awake - there was too big a chance that she'd vomit upon regaining
consciousness - always a threat when you
use chemicals to knock 'em out. For
the moment, he left her with her mouth unblocked - might be fun to see what she says when she wakes up! His last task was to carefully blindfold her
with a pair of leather blinders.
He ran a hand
across the stretched front of her body - and smiled--she felt good, nice soft
skin with very firm muscles beneath.
Mike had come to enjoy the feel of a girl's bare belly - especially when
she was tightly tied with the skin so taut and smooth...
His grin
widened as he heard a faint moan escape her lips. She's
coming to! It won't be long now! He took a step back, settled into the seat his
assistant had put into place and leafed through the file, taking a moment to
consider what his first act would be.
An FBI agent. He snorted. Who cares? He watched her lush body begin to stir and
looked into the file. What's her name?
CHAPTER TWO
SIX
DAYS TO CAPTURE
"...Special
Agent in Charge Megan Kelly," the redheaded woman held her ID card at
face-level, making sure everyone in the office saw it. "I'm here to run a new missing-persons task
force."
"Why does
Washington think we need a special unit?"
Blake Evans was the Agent in Charge of the Los Angeles FBI office, one
of the biggest and most important in the country. He wasn't happy about being bypassed on this
job - and by someone from Washington, at that!
"This town is full of runaways and movie-star
wannabes who end up on the streets - but our missing person numbers aren't any
higher than those in New York, Philly..." He glared at the female agent. "Or the District of fucking Columbia for that
matter! Why are you messing with us?"
"Thank you for
asking so politely, Agent Evans," Kelly tucked her ID wallet back into the
pocket of her tailored black jacket.
"Perhaps we should discuss this in private?"
Bob Fanelli
watched the storm clouds gather over Evan's forehead as the senior agent led
the redheaded woman into his office.
Fanelli knew that Blake hated working with hotshots from the District - and
this one looked like even more of a ball-buster then most. He's gonna dump her on me,
Fanelli realized suddenly. Just to get her off his case and outta his
office. Fanelli looked at the pile
of papers on his desk. Which might not be a bad thing considerin'
that I'm gettin' nowhere on most of this stuff. He sat back in his chair to watch the moving
shadows in Evan's office - and consider what kind of trouble was coming his
way.
"Ever see this
girl, Agent Evans?" Kelly slapped a 4x6
color photo down onto Evan's desk - ignoring the fact that the breeze she
created in doing so knocked some papers off the worn leather surface.
Evans leaned
forward, his annoyance obvious by his expression. He looked at the photo--the girl was young -
maybe twenty or so - with brown hair and a very pretty face.
"Any reason I
should recognize her?" He sat back in
his chair, glaring into the redheaded agents face. "She's pretty enough - but then, Hollywood is
right up the road--and there are only a couple hundred thousand pretty girls
around there!"
"Her name is
Heather Jaynes." Kelly spat out the
words in a terse monotone. "She lived
here for just over a year." She tapped
the photo with a carefully manicured nail.
"She was working at a fast-food place on Sunset until about a month
ago." She looked at Ellis. "Her boss contacted us - said that she wasn't
the kind to just walk away without a word - said he was worried about her."
"Why did he go to you guys? Why not the local cops - or us?"
"He says that
he doesn't trust local law enforcement."
She pulled up the single hard chair Evans kept in his office for
visitors. "Not the LAPD, not this
office." She smiled wryly. "I gather he's had some bad experiences with
both."
"Guy's
probably an illegal." Evans leaned back
in his chair. "Doesn't want a local cop
taking too close a look at his ID and licenses." He shrugged.
"Even if he's right, and this Heather girl has gone missing, why go to
the trouble of starting a special task force?
He snorted. "She's probably just
another movie-star wannabe who couldn't make it--we get thousands like
that! They move here, look for acting
work, can't find any, and go home - or, if they're embarrassed by their
failure, they just move on and start a new life somewhere else."
"That's all
very well - but I have reason to believe that a lot of them never move on - they
stay here - after they disappear."
Kelly laid down another photo, this one, unlike the shot of Heather
Jaynes, rather fuzzy - as if it were enlarged from a smaller image. "As this girl did." Another photo. "And this one." She leveled her gaze at Evans. "Ever see either of them?"
Evans shook
his head after a cursory glance. "Did
their bosses tell you that they've gone missing too?"
Kelly reached
into her bag, pulled out a DVD. "Can you
play this?" She leaned forward onto the
desk. "I think it'll make my presence
and mission here much easier to understand."
Twenty minutes
later, Kelly hit the stop button on the DVD player and turned toward
Evans. "Have you seen enough yet?"
"You're sure
this is real?" Evans face was sober now,
the things he had just seen forcing him to be far more serious. "You know they can do amazing things with
special effects and make-up work these days."
"The Deputy
Director and I have been assured that every frame of this movie is authentic - every
whip lash, every scream, every instant of agony was real - those girls were
suffering the torments of the damned - and each of them disappeared from this
area."
Evans nodded
slowly. "They'd all have to be
singletons - girls who have no family, no close friends. Lots of the wannabes are like that..."
"I'll need
office space and at least one more agent to start with."
Evans leaned
back and fixed his eyes on the ceiling as he thought things over. "I've got just the man for you."
CHAPTER THREE
Mike watched
as his redheaded subject slowly return to consciousness. He knew she was awake when her head jerked
suddenly upright and the muscles in her arms and hands tightened. Time to
go to work!
"Save your
strength - bitch!" He was on his feet
now, smiling as her whole body tensed at the sound of his voice. "There's no way for you to break free."
Her tongue ran
over dry lips. "I'm..." She swallowed
once. "I'm special agent Megan Kelly of
the FBI. Release me... Release me immediately or face the
consequences."
Mike was
beside her now - he ran the flat of his hand over her cheek, smiling a
predator's smile when she tried to pull away.
"You're nobody - nothing. Just
meat..." He slapped her hard, rocking her head back. "And you speak only when given permission to
do so."
He could see
that she was shocked by the blow. Good! Her head darted from side to side as she heard
him move--trying to determine where he was so she could face him squarely.
"Do you know
what will happen to you when my superiors..."
Mike punched
her in the very pit of her stomach with an open hand - hard.
All the breath
whooshed out of Kelly's mouth. She had
been unprepared for the blow, unwilling to believe anyone would hit her like
that. She fought for breath as her body
tried to fold around her mistreated stomach.
Her bonds held
her precisely in place.
"Are you going
to try to speak again?" Mike kept
moving, eyes fixed on her as she panted.
"Are you that stupid?"
"I'm..." Mike
watched her work her mouth as she tried to get enough air to speak. "I'm special agent..."
He punched her
again - in precisely the same spot.
This blow was
even more unexpected then the previous one.
Kelly gasped, mouth agape, lungs working hard - she was finding it
almost impossible to get her breath back.
Acid flooded her stomach and throat--then spewed out of her mouth.
Mike smiled. It'll
be safe to gag her now - but first...
He waited
patiently while she got herself under control, stood at her side as she spat
out the last of the vomit and filled her lungs one more time...
Then he moved,
slapping her across the face once - then again ...
Kelly shrieked
and made a titanic effort to break free--hands balling into fists as she yanked
at the bonds that held her so securely.
Her struggles
had no effect whatsoever. She was
tightly and inescapably bound - professionally so--and she would remain that
way until Mike decided otherwise.
"That's
enough, slave bitch!" Mike spit the
words right into her ear, his hand went to her chin, gripping it tightly,
immobilizing her mouth. "You don't get
to speak until I give you permission - the next time you disobey, the
punishment will be far more severe." He
released her chin. "Do you understand?"
"I..." She
started to answer, caught herself - then set her chin hard and spoke again:
"I'm not a slave! I'm an FBI agent and
I'm going to..."
Mike slapped
her again - then grabbed her chin again, motioning for his assistant to bring
the gag he had chosen. "That was
stupid." He clamped down on the sides of
her jaw, forcing her mouth open. "And
you're going to pay for it." He nodded
for the assistant to push the blue ball into Kelly's open mouth, watching to
make sure it went all the way in and was buckled tight before he released his
grip. He smiled as she tried to
complain, tried to curse him - the gag held it all in, releasing only a muffled
ngngngnnnnthh.
"You're still
trying to talk." He stepped to one side
and retrieved the nine-tailed flogger from its place on the pegboard paneling
on the wall. "Well, let's see how you
scream!"
The flogger
struck her across her already-sore belly.
He watched as she threw her head back - and smiled when she suppressed
the scream he knew had been about to come out.
"Now
you keep quiet!" He struck again, a
third time. "You really are dumb,
aren't you?" Another blow. "I can keep this up all day." He stepped to one side, struck her again,
careful to keep the lashes across her reddening belly. "Can you?"
He lashed her again - watched as a new red line joined the ones already
crossing her belly. "Let's see..." He set
his feet and began to whip her in earnest, carefully timing the blows so she
was always in pain, knowing that she would be unable to faint if he did this
properly.
Five strokes. Ten.
On the twelfth stroke, Megan Kelly began to scream, the muffled sound
barely coming through the tightly fixed gag.
Mike smiled as he heard the sounds that emerged. Good! Now to make sure she remembers this lesson.
"I see you've
found your voice." The whip came down
again. "Have you also learned your
lesson?" Another lash. "Will you try to speak without permission?" Another.
"Will you?"
His smile
widened as she shook her head from side to side - not quickly - but very
clearly
"Good." He lashed her again. "Then I will limit this whipping to,
what..." Another lash. "Twenty lashes? He hit her again.
She was sweating
now, the water running down her body and soaking her hair. Mike continued to lay his lashes down,
smiling at the sheen of sweat that soon covered her - and at the fine lattice
of red marks that criss-crossed her offered belly. "I think that's nineteen." She was screaming constantly now, the MFFFFHHHH coming from her mouth and
nose. "And twenty," the lash-mark
crossed the others already on her belly.
He watched as she took a deep, ragged breath - and hit her again.
The answering
noise was louder than any she'd made thus far.
"Consider that another lesson."
He rubbed a hard palm across her belly, watching as she tried to pull
away - without any success. "Slaves have
no rights - none." He grabbed a bit of
her pubic hair between thumb and forefinger and yanked it loose, drawing
another squawk from the gagged mouth. "I
can do whatever I want - whenever I want."
He looked down at her sweating form.
"Do you understand?"
It took a few
seconds, but finally, reluctantly, she nodded.
"Good." He undid his belt buckle and let his pants
fall. "Now there's one more thing that a
master can do whenever he wants." He
stepped in front of her and touched her exposed pussy lips, parting them with
his two hands as he positioned himself.
"And I'm going to do it right now..."
Her screams
increased in volume as he pushed inside her and took his pleasure. Mike smiled, knowing that the rape increased
her feeling of helplessness. I don't think pain alone will do the job with
this one. He pumped harder. But
if I can humiliate her enough, make her lose her sense of self-worth ...
Yeah, that might work.
Megan Kelly
squealed and shrieked into her gag as he fired his load inside her.