Author's Note: Be warned, this is again a pretty dark story about non-consent, slavery, extreme bondage and dehumanization. As always, please be aware: This is purely a work of fiction, I write this for fun and I do not do stuff like this in real, nor would I advise you to do this. Be nice to each other.

Comments, either on this website or, if you have interest in a discussion also per email, are strongly encouraged! I am interested in your feedback.


Chapter 1

I do not remember anymore what the name of the town was. I do remember that I arrived on a rainy afternoon, after a damn long drive. I had never been there before, but the place was easy to figure out: It was an old mining town, situated between hills and creeks, with old factories still towering over the scenery. Once it must have been bustling with workers and trucks. Now it was mostly bustling with memories of the 'good old times'. The old train station that I drove past looked like a ruin.

But as I steered my truck across main street I saw a surprising amount of young people. Seemed liked somewhere near there might be a college. There were quite a few bars, and those were crowded. Somehow that made me curious, and also I had been alone for a long time. So after I had checked into the local motel I decided against better judgement to go out for a drink or two. And that's how I met Lily.

She stood at the bar, talked to no one, held on to her drink. She was in her early twenties, so about ten years younger than me. She looked like a college student, but not necessarily upper class: There was something tough about her, something stubborn and unruly. The clothes she wore - faded jeans, dirty sneakers, a shabby leather-jacket - did not look like the kind of fake vintage bullshit you could buy in an expensive store, they rather looked genuinely worn and old. Lily was not posing either, nothing about her reminded me of an act. She was not in that crowded bar to be seen or to meet people, she was not there to pose or impress: She seemed to be a valid no-bullshit, wise-for-her-age kind of girl on a quest to get shitfaced with as little fuss as possible. She knew what she was doing: Even though she was young and had a pretty babyface, her eyes had the shine of beginning intoxication and slightly widened pupils, and the hint of dark shadows beneath.

But what really got me about her was how she smiled at the boys. Because that's what they were to her: From out of the crowd (and the place was so full with people that it was hard to say where the crowd anded and the walls began) a guy would approach her every few minutes. She would patiently allow him to test his routine withher. And then she would be friendly enough, but also dismissive enough to utterly demoralize him. They would all give up after a few minutes, and when they turned around her smile would get a little more cheeky and she would take another sip from her drink.

"Please be honest: Do you think I'm behaving like a bitch?", she suddenly asked me. At that point, I had been standing shoulder to shoulder with her at the bar for about an hour. This seemed to be the first time she looked at me directly. She had green eyes and delicate pale skin. She wore her short blonde hair in a pixie crop. She was tall for a female, very slim but kind of wiry. Had I been asked to guess her favorite sport, I would have put my money on her being a runner.

Meanwhile, she sighed. "I know these guys are trying to be nice, and I don't blame them for wanting to fuck me. But I came to town to meet a friend, not to get laid. And I just found out she isn't even in town today, she's visiting friends on the east coast. Now I'm just annoyed by the world in general."

I shrugged and smiled at her. I was used to seeing girls like her as potential victims. But right now she was just a nice young woman to have a casual conversation with. She interested me, but I also kind of liked her. It's a complicated emotional landscape to navigate sometimes, when you are essentially in the business of abduction and human trafficking.

"You are doing fine", I said. "There are a lot cruel ways to brush a guy off, but you allow them to keep their dignity. Are you saving up karma for some big sin?"

Now it was her turn to laugh. We kept talking. Then we shared a joint behind the bar. She told me about how she had worked hard for a stipend and now found college disappointing, how she hated all those pretentious twentysomethings who thought they had it all figured out. How she was bored to death in this town, even after having arrived only two months ago. I, of course, could not tell her who I was or why I was in the town - so I made up something about my job as a trucker and an ex-wife somewhere in Florida.

"Huh", she said a little perplexed. "You don't seem like that type. You are a little rough around the edges, but..." She softly shook her head and looked at me with more curiosity.

"Well, maybe you are a trucker. I doubt that you are 'just' that." We shared a few more jokes and later we kissed, and not much later after that we were in my motel room on the bed, getting undressed.

Her body was as lithe and smooth as I had imagined it, but with some scars on her forearms that showed she once had been cutting herself. Some of it was hidden behind a sleeve tattoo: green ivy vines wrapping themselves around her left wrist and arm all the way up to her shoulder, interspersed with tiny lilys. I kissed it. Her skin was warm and soft and tasted like salty caramel.

Maybe it was that tattoo, or maybe it was just my general inclination towards those things. But as we were naked on the bed, kissing and gettig more and more intimate, I decided to test the waters: I took the handcuffs out of my pocket and showed them to her.

She hesitated for a moment, a little doubt flickering behind those deep, green eyes. Then she kissed me again and grinned, and pressed more firmly against me. "That's fine", she whispered and then offered her wrists to me. "If you do this right I won't need my hands anyways." That was a playful little joke, but there was more to it: She wanted the handcuffs and did not want to outright admit it. They turned her on, and as I slipped them around her wrists and tightened them I could feel her warming up fast, a new kind of look on her face. Maybe she had never been tied before, but obviously she loved the thrill.

In the hour after I had her chained to the bed, I made damn sure that she had no reason to complain. We both got what we needed, and more than that. There was just enough tenderness and roughness, sweat and kisses. At one point I put my thumb into her mouth and she dug her teeth into it as if it was a horses bit. In the end she shuddered and came, and for a while did not stop cumming, and finally collapsed, glistening with sweat, smiling blissfully.

For a while we did not talk, we just enjoyed how great the sex had been. There was some after play, and more kisses.

A little later she asked me: "Hey, can you turn on the tv?" That request made me laugh under my breath. I was sitting next to her now, we were both cooling off. I offered her a cigarette. I had to hold it to her lips because her hands were still cuffed to the headboard of the bed. It's a little quirk I have: I like to see how long it takes until a girl will ask to be unchained.

Lily did not ask me immediately to be released, so I turned the TV on, enjoyed her smell, shared that cigarette with her.

And then something deeply fucked up happened: That TV had about a million channels, and on one of those - actually on a fairly obscure local news channel from different state - they were showing the portrait of a guy. The subline said "Police in Tampa, Florida searching for suspect in disappearance of five women." They did not have a foto of the man, but they had a pretty good sketch. The guy was kind of good-looking, maybe a little rough around the edges. He seemed a little above thirty, with dark, curly hair and a pronounced jawline, blue eyes and a nose that was not ugly-looking, but definitely had been broken at least once in the past. I zapped to another channel within two seconds, but the damage had been done. Because that guy was definitely me.

Lily had seen it too. For a heartbeat she said nothing, then from the corner of my eyes I could see her swallow. But she was impressively fast in getting her act together. "Hey, can you see if you find any cartoons?" She asked this as if she had not recognized me. Her chaaks had been flushed from the sex before, now they turned a deeper red. "I'm in the mood for some silly bullshit."

I smiled at her and got up from the bed. "What, you did not have enough silly bullshit for one night already?" I leaned forwards, kissed her forehead, stroked her tits. I made a decision in that second. I was kind of sorry for the girl, but I was also a professional. And I had to take care of this situation now, the best way I could.

"Hey, I just realized that the key to the handcuffs is in my jacket, and my jacket's still on the drivers seat. Let me get the key and then release you from those thngs." I winked at her and I could see the deep relief in her eyes. She quickly nodded. "Geez, I knew there was something else I wanted to mention." Her smirk looked almost real.

So I went out of the room and I wwalked across the parking lot fast. My mind was racing, but I have been living a pretty risky life for years, and so I had no problem calculating my chances. It was a shabby motel and no one had seen us enter. There seemed to be only a few cameras. In the bar, some people wold remember her and some would remember me. Even fewer would remember having seen us together, in the dark behind the bar. How long until someone would miss the girl? How many suspects would there be? How fast could I drive?

The keys to the cuffs had been in my pocket all the time. But from my truck I got some other things I needed: A roll of duct tape, a rubberfoam-ball and a small bottle of ether. I wished I had more professional equipment with me, but most of that I had been forced to leave back in motherfucking Tampa, Florida. So for now - until I found a trustworthy supplier - this stuff would have to suffice. But that was okay. I knew how to make these things work.

When I came back into the hotel room, I could see that Lily was more nervous. Her wrists were slightly red, obviously because, while I was gone for a minute, she had tried to free herself of the cuffs. She smiled at me, but that smile did not reach her eyes.

"Hey there you are. Have you found the key? Because as soon as I can use my hands again, I'd like to say thank you for this sexy night!" I admired her. She had been dealt a bad hand, but she played it with a lot of style.

Sure, here they are. I took the key out of my pocket and showed it to her. I smiled and sat down on the bed next to her. I leaned forward and, instead of immediately unlocking the cuffs, I gave her a kiss. She tasted great. As we kissed and the tip of her tongue moved against my lips, I cupped her left breast with one hand, then ran my hand upwards, grabbed her short hair and pulled her head back a little. When the kiss ended, I looked into her eyes from close up.

"I know you recognized me, Lily. And you know I can't let you go now, don't you?"

She was clever, and she had obviously been suspecting something like this. She immediately started to scream, but she was still inhaling air for full volume when I already pressed the ether-soaked piece of cloth against her mouth. I held her head firm with my other hand, and I used all my weight to pin her down on the bed.

In movies, ether or chloroform works within a second. In reality, it takes time. It's a struggle, even when a lightweight female is being chloroformed be a muscular male. Even when that female is in as disadvantageous a position as Lily was. She groaned and struggled, she tried to scream with the rag half over and half in her mouth. Her head jerked back and forth and her legs kicked out under me like crazy.

She did everything she could to throw me off, and all the while her green eyes were wide as saucers, staring at me in anger and shock. I did of course develop a massive boner while I fought with her. It's in my nature. I had not seen her as prey before, she had just been a pretty one night stand. But now, through sheer chance, she had turned into my prey anyways. As her struggling weakened and her eyes became more and more glassy, I could not help but laugh. A quiet evening in town was all I had wanted, and now my life was even more complicated than before.

Finally she was unconscious, limp on the bed with her half-closed eyes looking right through me. Time to tie her up for transport. The cuffs came off, instead I began to tie her with the duct tape. When she would wake up later, she would feel like a very sore, very tight package. And then, after a short talk with her, I could plan my next move.

I was being hunted by the cops, possibly by the FBI and maybe even by The Club. I was pretty damn broke, lost in the middle of nowhere and in the possession of a newly acquired, untrained slavegirl. I had been in quiet waters only a month ago, and now I felt like a man in the middle of a bulletstorm.

But the game was not over yet. People in certain circles knew me only as the Nowhere Man, and I had earned that nickname. I could not help but grin while I rolled Lily on her belly and began taping her arms together. No mater how this would end, right now I was having a fucking lot of fun.


Chapter 2

It was getting close to morning hours. The streets were empty, and all bars had closed. The town was silent as a grave.

Part of me wanted to get out of that town as quickly as possible. But I was no amateur. And I knew that the engine of my truck would have woken at least a few people. Some of those might wonder why I left in the middle of the night. And only one of these people needed to remember me later and to make the connection to the disappearance of Lily.

Fact was, I needed to bide my time. In the morning, I could just drive off without raising any suspicions whatsoever. I would be just one of several passing truckers who had stayed in town over night.

So I prepared what I could prepare, silent as a mouse. I refilled on coffee and I made some plans and studied some maps and checked the communications array that was hidden inside my truck. It held no good news for me: I was still a wanted man, and not only wanted by the cops. The Club was also very interested in my whereabouts.

Lily regained consciousness about an hour later. We were in the back of my Cascadia by then. I had carried her the few steps across the dark parking lot. She had been hidden beneath a blanket. Now she was in the small sleeping compartment behind the drivers' seat.

I am a large guy, and that compartment is uncomfortable for me. But it's always bearable for a few days. I had only chosen to sleep in a motel tonight because I had already been on the run for some time. I had longed for an opportunity to sleep with my legs stretched out.

Since Lily was smaller than me, and thus the compartment would have been quite comfortable for her. But to her misfortune I had put her into a cruel form of bondage while she had been 'asleep': As the young student slowly came back to her senses, I could see how she realized that I had put her arms on her back, had wrapped them at first with gauze and then placed three layers of duct tape over that.

That way, essentially, I had fused them together from Lily's fingertips to her elbows. I had then wrapped more gauze and tape around her upper body, so that her already useless arms were pinned against her back.

I had used the rest of the gauze and tape to wrap her legs from ankles to knees. She was half-naked and half-mummified that way, and as a final security measure I had folded her legs and forced her heels against the back of her thighs. The last bit of tape had been used to connect her armbondage and the restrained ankles, so that she was pretty snugly hogtied.

In short, she was not going anywhere, and the strain on her body had to be painful. I found the sight of this limber young woman in such unforgiving bondage damn sexy. Naturally she would not share that sentiment.

At first Lily just stirred a little, then snorted, then coughed, then opened her eyes without really seeing anything. A minute later her pretty elfin face contorted as she began to feel the discomfort, then she looked a little shocked as she realized the amount of pain her nerves were reporting. She moaned and stared at me in an offended way and now her body regained some tension as her arms and legs worked against the bondage while Lily tried to get into a more comfortable position.

I have drugged and tied a lot of women in my life, so I knew quite well the stages they went through when they regained their senses. Lily was a quick one: Most women would have needed a lot longer to re-orient themselves.

"Oh shit my arms... have you broken my fucking arms...?" Her voice was hoarse and her speech still a bit slurred, but she was doing well. She tried to turn her head to see what I had done.

"Your arms are going to be fine." I stroked her cheek and patted the side of her head.

"They really don't feel fine", she protested. She was sarcastic. "Please... come on... George, right? George, you have to get me out of here... the handcuffs were fine. I enjoy some kink in my life. But this is over the top..."

She grimaced again, struggling weakly with the bondage. I estimated that 66 percent of her discomfort were real and only the other 33 percent were an act. "I'm not joking! I think my arms are dying... I don't have any circulation.... please get me out of this..."

It was time for a hard truth. So I leaned a little forward, stroked her blonde, pixie-cut hair and shook my head.

"I have done this before, to a lot of girls. Your arms are not dying. See what happens if you strain against the bondage? The gauze and tape give a little way and allow you to stretch your muscles a little, you can exert some pull with your shoulders and you can even work the muscles in your back a bit." I grinned. „Sure, it does not really give way and you have no chance to wriggle yourself out oft he bondage, no matter how often you repeat that little workout. But I didn't give you this slack by accident, Lily? You can stay tied like this for a pretty long time. It is going to be remarkably uncomfortable. But your arms, as I said, are going to be fine."

It took her a moment to absorb what I had just said about my experience with these kinds of situations. It was a treat being able to watch her face as the penny dropped. Her green eyes got a little clouded, her nose wrinkled and her lips moves silently for a moment. She tried to keep her cool, but it was not easy for her. She was still so young.

"So... how often have you done this before...?", she asked me carefully.

"That's not important. But you should know that I made a pretty good living out of it. I'm a professional, for what it's worth." I smiled because I knew how fucked up this had to sound in Lily's ears. "I'm not planning to kill you, and I'm not some kind of lunatic. I'm just a freelancer in an unusual line of work. I am a man who is experiencing a temporary... dispute with an employer. What you saw on TV, what happened in Florida... that was not my fault."

"Oh, that's great", she said. Her voice was now dripping with sarcasm. "I would be really worried if a madman had drugged me and tied me up in a compartment in his truck. So I am mighty glad to hear that you are sane!"

I sighed. "It makes more of a difference than you realize", I insisted. "Listen, I was forced to work for a very stupid, very careless employer for a while. But now, once more, I'm working only for myself. I intend to leave that Floridian episode far behind me. But to achieve that, I need to move fast. And I need to take you with me, because I cannot trust you to keep your mouth shut."

She did not understand, and maybe she did not even care. "No, I have a better idea, you just let me go", she insisted. "I saw your face on the news. Big deal. You seem like a nice guy and we had great sex and I don't give a shit about what the cops down in Florida want..."

"It's not just the cops who are looking for me. And anyways, I wish I could believe you. But I could not take the risk in the motel room, and now that we are here that particular ship has sailed anyways."

"You don't get it, George!" Panic crept into her voice. „You have to let me go. You can't fucking keep me like this, my arms..."

"I told you, your arms are not dying off. None oft he slaves that I acquired and trained has ever..."

"I don't give a shit! I need to get OUT of this NOW, I need you to fucking RELEASE me and..."

No matter how tough Lily was for a girl just above twenty years old, now she was showing nerves. I did not blame her, but I could not afford her to panic either. Her perky, pale tits were a little squashed by the gauze and tape above and beneath them, but I had made sure that they were still uncovered. I put a hand over her mouth and then pinched her left nipple very hard, sending a flash of white-hot pain through her body. She groaned into my hand, her eyes wide, nostrils flaring.

„NrrrGMMMMMHHH!"

I held her down and waited for her to stop struggling. Tears were in her eyes. I could see how she composed herself, with all the mental strength she could muster.

This would not work every time. But for the moment it had. The pain and the fact that I could reach out and do this to her had helped to emphasize how deep in trouble she really was, and that screaming and this particular problem would not make it go away. I took my hand off her mouth.

„You could have just slapped my face, like they do in those old movies", she whined with a hint of her trademark sarcasm still left in her voice.

„That would not have been half as much fun", I smiled. Her nipple was red and began to swell immediately "Now listen. I did not plan to kidnap you, it just happened. I had no choice. What you need to do now is accept that you are not in control." I sighed. „You ant to survive? Then trust me. And as a sign oft hat trust I need you to give me your passwords." I took her mobile phone from my pocket. "Your passwords for your emails, Whatsapp, Facebook, Instagram - all that shit, in one long list."

She stared at me, quickly calculating her options. She shook her head, confused but defiant. "Fuck you!"

I felt sympathy for this feisty little pixie, but that did not mean that I would have a lot of patience with her.

"I said I want to get you through this alive", I explained. „But you have to consider my own situation. I am hunted by some very unpleasant people. I only have few thousand bucks in cash left right here in this Cascadia. All of my contacts have gone silent, at least for the time being. You might be an asset that I can use in the future, a chip to cash in at some point. So, if you play along, you can survive."

I gave her a stern look. I meant every word I said, and I wanted her to realize that.

"Or you try to give me trouble. You were a great fuck and you have something about you that makes me think you might be a unique pet. But I am not a sentimental guy.

So if you don't play along and give me all your damn passwords, I will get a plastic bag, pull it over your head, clamp your mouth shut and pin you down for about five minutes. Then when the convulsions have ended, I will take your dead body with me in this very truck and drop you into a ravine somewhere along the way. Do you understand that?"

She did understand that, and she gave me all the info I needed with a slightly shaky but mostly composed voice. I wrote them down in my notebook. A few misleading social-media posts sent by her phone would be very helpful in sending anyone searching for Lily into the wrong direction. But rebellious loner that she seemed to be, I hoped that not so many people would notice her disappearance anyways.

She was in pain, she was tired and she looked at me again with those eyes that made her seem a little older than she was.

"So what now...?" She was scared. "Is this the moment when it turns out you tricked me and you're going to kill me anyways?"

"No." I shook my head. "This is the moment when I tell you I have to gag you and you tell me it's not necessary."

"It is really not necessary! I promise I will be..." She hesitated, realizing she had no chance to change my mind. She groaned in frustration, her arms stretching as far as possible behind her back. I knew she would never be able to free herself, but I was satisfied that I had applied the bondage just tight enough. "You fucking asshole...." Fresh tears appeared in her eyes and made them look even larger. She shivered. "I hate you, you fucker."

I got a large rubberfoam-ball and some more of the gauze and tape from my pocket. "Usually when I take a female, I render her unconscious and then keep her that way until I have her in a safe place", I told Lily. "But I don't have that option here, so you'll be conscious while I drive. And I just can't take the risk to leave you ungagged."

"My life was fine until I met you!" She did not scream, but she was getting louder. "Why did I decide to sleep with you? It was so damn obvious that you were not a normal guy!"

I smiled and cupped her chin. "Lily, that's exactly why you went with me. You were not looking for normal guys. And by the way, I doubt that your life was fine. I saw how you messed with the men in that bar. I saw the old cuts on your arms, half hidden by the ink. And when I offered you the handcuffs, you loved the idea to get chained to the bed by a stranger. You don't want to be a part of the herd, girl, you want to be special."

I pushed the rubberfoam-ball against her lips and she hesitantly opened her mouth because there was nothing else she could do. I stuffed her mouth with it until her cheeks bulged, then I began to wrap the gauze around her head, covering the whole lower side of her face with multiple layers. As the pressure increased, her cheeks were pushed upwards and she developed that timeless look that a strict gag gives a pretty girl.

By now she realized how mightyly the cruel gag would add to her discomfort, and she produced some very weak groans of protest. I took the duct tape and began to layer it over the gauze.

"Girls like you are the easiest to take", I explained to Lily. "A herd also means protection. But you don't want to be part of the herd, so you turn that protection willingly down."

Her protests grew louder when I rolled first the gauze and then the tape across her eyes, but 'louder' here refers to a very weak snuffling noise. I applied earplugs I had formed from paper and wax, then put some tape over her ears too. Now she was immobilized, mute, blind and deaf. I had a massive boner again, because that act of taking and restraining a pretty female never gets old for me. But I needed to concentrate, so I quickly placed her in the hidden compartment beneath the mattress - soundproof air inlets would prevent her from suffocating - and locked it. I was pretty sure I would fuck her later, but now I needed to focus on other things.

I climbed back onto the driver's seat and looked at the sky outside. Dawn was finally here. The town was waking up and an increasing number of cars filled the streets. It was time to show the world how normal and unremarkable I was. I would pay for my room, get a healthy breakfast in the nearby diner and get back on the road. It looked it was going to be a sunny, beautiful day.


Chapter 3 (added: 2018/11/10)

It was around eight o'clock when I finally started the ignition. The streets were busy now, just as I had hoped. No one gave me a second glance as I left - not even the stoned son of the motel manager when I returned the key to my room.

Once outside the town, I followed a winding road with woodland on both sides. Beyond and above the woods, visible in the distance, were the edges of mountains. In the early sunlight they appeared as if they had been bathed in gold.

Traffic eased up quickly as I left the town behind. Occasionally I saw other vehicles, mostly trucks that transported logs or heavy machinery. But most of the time I was alone and all was silent, except for the steady hum of the engine. I had time to think.

What had happened in Florida could be my end or could just be a bump in the road for me. Only time would tell. The Club was a ruthless bunch, but several of them had been my customers over the years. And most of those had been very satisfied with the services I provided.

Okay, one(!) guy in Florida was now catatonic. But he was not catatonic because I had made a mistake. He was now essentially a cucumber because he had been stupid and very careless. A woman I had abducted for him had fried his brains with the electrical device he had designed to wipe her memories and free will, and she had only been able to do that because he had not observed any kind of safety protocol whatsoever.

I had warned him as I helped him set up shop but he had been an obnoxious, condescending shithead from the very beginning. I had only stayed because he was also paying very well and because I had a reputation to lose. But I could not babysit him 24 hours a day, and so his olympic-swimmer-turned-bondage-slave prisoner had managed to persuade him that she had fallen in love. He had believed her and untied her, the moron.

One minute you are a highly specialized professional with a flawless track record and friends in high places. The next minute all kinds of people want to ask you questions about a burned down mansion in Florida, a catatonic furniture-mogul and an Olympic athlete traveling from talkshow to talkshow, telling people about her brief experience as a madman's' prisoner.

A good thing was that she knew nothing about The Club. As far as she and law enforcement authorities were concerned, her 'Owner' had been working alone. A bad thing was that obviously she remembered my face quite well. I had been blocked from the Club's network, none of my calls receiving any answers. This was bad.

But like I said, it could also just turn out to be a bump on the road. I was a very wealthy man myself, thanks to my former success. I knew that several members of The Club had fond memories of me and the opportunities I had provided them with. They would lay low now, but they might give me a chance to explain myself after the storm had passed. What I needed to do was reach one of my safehouses and allow things to cool down.

I drove as far as I could, but after a few hours the exhaustion caught up with me. Since everything had gone haywire I had not slept much. Last night was supposed to be a night of good rest, but my chance meeting with Lily had turned it into another night spent awake. There was no getting around it: I needed to stop the cascade before I feel asleep at the driving wheel.

From time to time I had passed overgrown parking lots at the side of the road, half-hidden in the undergrowth. I chose one of those and found it neglected. Seemed like I had a good chance of being left alone here. So I parked the Cascade as deep between bushes and trees as I could safely steer it and then, with a sigh, turned the engine off.

I could have slept now, immediately. But even though I knew that Lily could survive a lot longer inside the hidden compartment, I decided to open it. I kind of liked the sweet little cunt, and maybe I wanted to make sure I had calculated everything just right.

She was in bad shape, but that had been to be expected: She was breathing, but not moving. Was she unconscious? She was bathed in sweat, and drool had seeped out through the gag and had turned into a small pool beneath her cheek.

Lily was still a handy package, but to my surprise she had managed to pull the bondage a bit apart, so far that her fingers had come free. She had been able to loosen a little off the tape that I was wrapped around her legs.

It had not helped her. At some point she seemed to have given up, maybe even fallen asleep. What she had achieved was a pitiful result after what must have been hours of hard work for her. But it showed me nonetheless that I must never underestimate her.

I lifted her out of the compartment and she awoke. She cringed, moaned into the gag and obviously was in pain. I massaged her shoulders and arms while they woke up and she shuddered from the distress. I unwrapped her legs and allowed her to sit on the mattress, then took the plugs out of her ears.

"Do you need to pee?"

She sobbed and she nodded.

I double-checked that no one could see us, then led her out of the truck. She could hardly walk and she tried to protest through the gag when I told her to squat down behind some bushes.

I knew very well what she was trying to communicate because that's what they always try to say: That they wanted to keep some dignity, they couldn't run away anyways, so why would I not let them do this alone? Of course Lily was trying to tell me just the same: That she needed no babysitter, and if I would just untie her hands for a moment she could take care of this herself.

They all try that. I always find it annoying. Now that Lily was in my hands she was a commodity, and I do not bargain with commodities. I see no sense in allowing a piece of commodity to keep her fucking dignity.

I wished I still had one of the shock collars, a taser or at least a crop. But at the moment I was without even my most basic kit, so I just I slapped her ass and gave her a stern look.

"Get it over with, Ivy. Or don't, it's your choice. But if you stain my Cascadia or your box, I will beat you black and blue."

She sobbed again then she did what she had been told.

When she was done I brought her back into the car. She was still sobbing. Once inside I slowly peeled the tape off her mouth and took the rubberfoam-ball out of her mouth.

She had been wearing it for hours and her speech sounded accordingly slurred, her jaws were obviously hurting. She tried to thank me, and I held a bottle of water to her mouth. She drank greedily.

"Please... please, let me..."

"No. Eat this cracker."

I put the cracker into her mouth and she hastily ate it. But she also tried to keep talking. I guess she sensed that she did not have a lot of time.

"My arms... really, they kill me, it hurts so fucking much..."

"Here, another cracker." I fed her as quickly as possible.

"Please, chain me to the steering wheel or to the seat, just please don't put me back in the box, I am going mad in that fucking box, it's hell in there, you are driving me insane...!"

"Nope, sorry Ivy. It's the box for you." I gave her another cracker.

She looked shell-shocked, but she still asked: "Why... why Ivy...? My name is Lily... Why have you started calling me Ivy?"

I shrugged. "I always change her name, when I take a girl. It's another small way to make it more difficult to identify you. Once a girl is trained and broken, her old life is over. The new name is one way to prove that point."

"Jesus fucking Christ, you can't do this to me!" Now she was screaming, so I slapped her face really hard. Some snot and some cracker crumbs stuck to my palm.

"You need to get your shit together", I told her. "I usually wouldn't even talk to you, let alone listen to you. You are property now, and I keep you alive because I might use you later. You cannot talk me into feeling compassion for you. What you can do is you can play along, make this easier for me and in the process also make it easier for yourself."

She hesitated for a moment, shaking. Then she said, under her breath: "You can not be like that.... you can't be... you're trying to scare me, but you have to know this is wrong... oh God that box was nearly driving me mad.... Please get this shit off my eyes, you can't keep me like this... I can't stand this anymore, this is no way to treat a human... "

I was fed up with her attitude. I stuffed the gag back into her mouth and secured it with fresh tape, against her protests. Then, all fired up and in the mood to prove my point with more than just a damn name change, I turned Ivy around and opened my pants.

She realized what I was doing, and she whimpered and struggled against me, but there was just nothing she could do. It took me a few heartbeats to pin her down, to spread her legs and push into her. Naturally she felt tighter than last night. I held her by her hips, then I put a hand into the back of her neck and grabbed her firmly.

"Ivy, you need to stop making this hard for both of us." I kissed her ear, then began using her with quick, hard thrusts. She squirmed beneath me, shuddered, sobbed into the gag. I enjoyed her movements, the warmth of her body and her cunt and the power I had over her.

I was not under the illusion that she enjoyed the rape. I knew she would hate it and hate me as well, and that most likely she was contemplating revenge right now. Her struggling and the frantic, gargling protest were speaking volumes.

But to my surprise her pussy seemed to lubricate a little more than I would have expected under these circumstances. Oh, I was not some idiot from Florida who thought an abducted, enslaved woman would fall in 'love' with him. I may be a villain, but I'm not a moron. Still, over the years I had learned to register the subtle differences in the reactions of different slaves. And some of the nuances of Ivy's reaction told me that maybe she could learn to be a very interesting slavegirl for an ambitious owner.

But that was all in the future. Right now I held her down and kept using her until I finally came. I pumped into her and then welcomed the relaxing feeling that follows such an egoistic orgasm. She gargled in frustration and stopped fighting, now that she felt that I was done.

I got off her and taped her fingers and legs together, just as they had been before. I placed the groaning, sobbing girl back inside her box.

Afterwards I slept like a dead man for many hours. I briefly awoke once to the weak sound of a computerized signal. In the dark, a red light was flickering. But I was still much too exhausted, and soon I slipped into another dream, filled with dark figures from my past and my imagination. They all were chasing me, and I carried Ivy on my back and finally jumped into the castles moot to escape the badly designed end tables they were trying to encircle me with.


Chapter 4

When I awoke, there was bright daylight outside the Cascade. Looking at my watch I saw that I had slept for about 18 hours.

On one hand that was bad, since it meant that I had lost a lot of precious time. On the other hand I had to accept that, obviously, my body had needed the rest. There was simply nothing to be gained from debating this with my own physical self, so I shrugged it off.

What had happened could not be changed anymore and I needed to concentrate on the future. At least now I felt fresh again, my mind was sharp and the soreness in my back had disappeared.

The parking lot at the side of the freeway, where I had parked the Cascade in the underbrush, was as empty as before. If cars had stopped here while I was sleeping then at least none of the drivers seemed to have taken special notice of me or my transporter.

I drank a bottle of water and consumed nearly all that was left of my food supplies, keeping just the last few cookies. I got Ivy out of the hidden compartment, placed her on the bed and could not help but being amused and annoyed at the same time by her moaning and struggling. The many hours in the strict bondage had surely been hellish for her, but I just did not give a fuck. All I wanted was feed her, water her and then get going again.

But from the corner of my eyes I suddenly noticed a flickering red light on the Cascades' console. The chirping noise had not been part of my dream! It had been a very real signal from the decoder that was hidden inside the standard-looking dashboard.

I left Ivy where she was - sitting with her taped legs and arms, gagged and blindfolded on the mattress in the back of the drivers' cabin - and rushed to check the recordings as fast as I could.

The name I read did not make me happy. "Aw come on. Fuck. Shit!" I raised a hand and nearly smashed it against the dashboard but controlled myself in the last second. "Why her? Is this a fucking joke?"

Behind me, Ivy was still struggling with the tape-bondage. The blindfolded girl moaned louder, then began sliding off the mattress. She shrieked in protest just a moment before she tumbled to the ground.

"Stop that", I growled. "It's distracting." Ivy desperately tried to get off the ground, flailing and growling, but at least she was exhausting herself in a comparatively silent way.

I concentrated on the message. I had been on the run for weeks, and it was starting to get to me. Being a lone wolf had always been fine. Being hunted like a wolf with rabies... that was something else entirely. All the damn time I had been hoping that some member of The Club, someone who still respected my work ethos, would contact me and offer me a safe haven. And now that such an offer had arrived, it turned out to be from the wrong person.

Her name was Agatha. She and I had what one might call a history, and that history was not exactly cozy and peaceful. It was the kind of 'history' you would also find in a book about the 30 Years War.

I had been her employee for a while, then her lover, then simply her henchman. I had for example assisted Agatha in enslaving a female acquaintance of hers, a woman who had had the bad luck to be attractive, single, without close relatives and rubbing Agatha all the wrong way.

Agatha was a sensual, impressive woman with a sadistic streak as broad as the Atlantic Ocean and an attitude just as stormy. In short: If I followed her invitation then there was a chance she might help me, for old times' sake. Alas, there was also an excellent chance that I would be walking directly into a trap.

"What to do, what to do. Relying on Agatha's help is not really a safe thing to do", I pondered. "That woman is as trustworthy as a viper..."

Behind me, Ivy complained as loud as she possibly could while still flapping around on the ground like a stranded dolphin. A last groan followed, a sobbing concession that she could not get into a less uncomfortable position without my help. She rested her head against the ground, breathing heavily.

"Yeah, I know exactly how you feel", I said with one finger against my lips. "I'm tired of this shit too. But I guess we just gotta keep going." Thanks to the sleep I had gotten, my brain worked again. A plan quickly started to take shape in my mind. I got up, lifted Ivy up and put the panting girl back into the compartment. Oh how she screamed and complained! Then I got back behind the driving wheel and started the engine.

Three hours later we arrived at the closest big settlement that I had found on the map. It was about two times the size of the place where I had met Ivy and situated at the foot of the mountains, with flat plains opening to my view in the west. We were officially leaving the mountains behind and I was glad about that.

I made a quick survey of this town: It was more akin to a "big city" and thus more anonymous, with many people passing through, crowded sidewalks and a lot of buzz in the shops and taverns. There were no curious glances in the direction of me or my truck and it seemed realistic to hope that I could just become part of the scenery here.

"You are killing me... oh God why ... you're killing me you fucker, I'm starving!"

That, of course, was Ivy. She had not learned a thing and by now I had kind of accepted it. Not that it would help her much, but if that was going to be her attitude for the rest of our journey, so be it. Agatha would just love this girl.

"Oh come on", I said grinning. I had her in the back of the cascade, holding her restrained figure on my knees while I was feeding her slices of oranges, giving her some water and of course also checking her bonds. "Does this feel like starving?"

"You locked me in that fucking compartment for so long, I thought I was just going to die in there! Then you took me out and when I thought you "

I ate a slice of orange, shaking my head. I stared cleaning her up a bit with a couple of refreshment towels I had found in the glove compartment.

"That is never going to happen."

"But..."

"Never, Ivy. If you die, then you die because I made an decision to kill you." A grave silence followed, the blindfolded girl trying to breathe calm and slowly, but beneath her warm skin I could feel her heart beating faster. "But as long as I want you to be alive, I will not allow you to die. And you can believe me that I very much want you to stay alive."

"Because I'm your slave now...?" Her voice was weak, breaking a bit.

"Exactly. Because I took you, because I own you and I like it that way. Plus, you've become an asset to me."

She did not understand, cocking her head a bit to the side as I fed her another slice of orange.

"I'll explain later. I'll have good news then. But for now, you get gagged once more and you go back in the hidden compartment."

"I hate you, you fucking piece of shit."

"I know." I smiled. "Isn't our life just like a romantic comedy?"

After I had locked my sweet save away safely, I left the Cascade and went shopping. I was glad to find a very well stocked hardware store and - not too far away from it, just a little further down the alley - a decent sex shop. I spent the better part of an hour in both of those and could return to the small truck much sooner as I had expected. Because I was in a good mood I got Ivy out of the compartment again.

"What the hell are you doing?" I had taken the blindfold off for now. Her eyes were puffy and red, but gleaming with curisiosity. "Wait, is this... did you buy all this shit for me??"

She stared anxiously at the stuff I had brought back with me: A few tools, some super glue, belts and two pairs of cuffs, short chains and padlocks plus some electronic equipment. There was also a decent ballbag in the centre of a head-harness, a broad slave-collar and a pair of leather mittens. I was working on them now, modifying and improving them as much as I could. This stuff would never be able to compete with the specialized equipment I usually would rely on, but with my knowledge I was able to do quite a lot with it.

"Yes, I did. I decided that I need to improve your situation, Ivy."

"That's not my fucking name! And this is not an improvement!"

"First of all: Don't get so fucking loud, or I'll immediately stuff you back into the damn compartment." I smiled when she shuddered. "Second of all: Don't be whiny, tough girl. It's an improvement all right. It will be more comfortable than the tape, it will be less exhausting to wear longterm and I will be able to adjust it to our needs."

"I don't think that you and I really have common needs.... hey!"

I had placed the slave collar around her neck. It was thick, padded and quite heavy, especially because I had just modified it and integrated some electronic stuff. She stretched her neck, her eyes widening in protest. But when Ivy saw the look on my face, she relented and allowed me to tighten and lock the collar.

"Looks great on you."

"Feels shitty on me."

"Oh, if you say that now, wait until I apply this." I showed her the gag-harness, grinning. "But your arms come first. Turn around."

Sitting on the edge of the bed she turned, showing me her back and her taped arms. It seemed that for the moment her decision was to extract some information rather than curse me. With a slightly hoarse, but controlled voice she asked: "Do you never have a bad conscience? I mean... you say you have done stuff like this for many years. Do you never feel guilty about this?"

Using the superglue and some screws I had combined several of the straps to form a bondage harness. I slipped it over her head now, connected it to her collar and then cut the tape that held her arms.

Ivy sighed in relief when she felt the cool air on her sweaty skin, but she did not try to fight. She must have realized that there was no way she could prevent me from forcing her into the new, improved form of bondage I had prepared for her.

"I am not much into philosophy", I told her with a shrug. "So I can't claim that I have many deep thoughts about my way of life." I pulled the last pieces of tape off her skin, then slipped the belts around her wrists and elbows. I tightened them and Ivy moaned, half in discomfort but more, I guessed, from frustration. She had been free only for a few fleeting seconds and now she could her the small padlocks get locked, her arms about as useless as before.

"Oh come on, she said dryly. "You are not trying to appear as a simple man with a simple mind, do you? I don't believe that bullshit even for a second. You just built a microelectronic device with not much more than scotchtape and a few simple tools." She nodded at the soldering iron I had worked with.

"Oh, I never said I was stupid." I smiled. While we were talking I secured the rest of her bonds, then grabbed the head-harness. I had put a lot effort into this thing: It came with chinstrap and another set of straps that would run across Ivy's face, securing the rubber-mouthpiece I had replaced the ballgag with very thoroughly.

"I just mean that I don't see a lot of sense in overanalyzing myself or the world I live in. I have certain... interests. I was always happy working for people with similar interests, who were rich and looking for trustworthy, capable henchmen. You ask me if I ever had a bad conscience, and the answer is: Maybe at the beginning, once or twice. Since then I've always enjoyed doing what I do to you right now, and never looked back."

She shivered, and - when I brought the gag close to her mouth - quickly said: "Wait, last question. What is going to happen once we reach that woman? You said she's a trustworthy as a viper, so... what is your pl...grhouugh!!"

I smiled, pushing the gag into her mouth and making sure the head-harness was tight enough. Then I attached the blindfold, ignoring her frustrated complaints.

"We are not partners, remember? So don't you worry, sweet little Ivy. As long as Agatha does not find out that you are a forced slave, everything will work out just fine for me."

Not much later we were back on the road again. Now that everything was prepared, I was not appalled anymore by the idea of meeting Agatha. To the contrary, I was eager so see if I would be able to pull this off.

Chapter 5 (added: 2020/01/06)

To the outside world, Agatha Bernadotte was a rich heiress of 46 years, a philanthropist and patron of the arts. Seen in a photo she was a natural beauty: A tall, slender woman of mediterranean descent, olive-skinned, dark-eyed and charismatic.

That is, if the outside world took notice of her at all: You might occasionally meet Agatha on important vernissages, at the opening weekends of exhibitions or similar events. But the chance was that no one would recognize her, since she liked keeping a low profile. And those who knew her would describe her as reclusive, introverted and modest. The most impressive thing about Agatha, I had found, was that she never appeared in the tabloids. She always managed to evade the center of the spotlight. Even when her longtime-assistant Bianca Obutu had been killed in a car crash, eight years ago, there had not been a single report about it.

Of course, the truth was that Bianca had not really been killed. She had simply annoyed her boss by falling in love with another woman. She had informed Agatha that she was planning to get married, move away to Denver, find a less unpleasant employer. Agatha had not taken those news so well. She had hired me to make sure Bianca would not leave her.

I still remember vividly the day I took Bianca: The disbelief in the beautifuls' womans eyes, when the taser hit her and brought her down hard. The fear in her eyes, as she got 'packaged', bound and gagged and trussed up in a way that must have felt hellishly surreal. The panicking struggles as I let her watch while I tinkered with her car and then sent it down a small canyon. It would be found only months later, and the cops would rule that Bianca Obutu was dead, her mortal remains most likely having been scattered in the area by wild animals.

In truth, I had assisted Agatha in training Bianca as her personal slave. Agatha had wished for her former assistant (and, I should add, former lover) to become a faceless, helpless creature, completely at her mercy. I had arranged the equipment, prepared a training regimen and provided the other necessary means for that vision to come true.

Agatha and I had become attracted to one another as the training when on, and for some time it had been a sexy arrangement. For Miss Obutu, it must have been pure madness to suffer the two only people who knew that she was still alive not only training her in the most sadistic ways, but at the same time becoming infatuated with one another. I will never forget her moaning and sobbing through the padded hood, her pleading eyes or her warm, wet mouth, opened wide by a massive ring gag. Agatha, Bianca and I spent some wonderful months.

But Agatha was a demanding, cruel woman, and after a while our arrangement had soured. That was okay, I had simply moved on. There had been other jobs, other employers, other tasks. But I suspected that Agatha still had feelings about me, and I could only guess if those feelings were good or bad.

By now I had been driving for another two days, with short stops at small motels and inns, to shower and get some rest. I had fucked Ivy twice because she was just too tempting, and both times she had struggled a bit, complained and groaned in protest. But she had also become quite moist as I used her, and she had shuddered in a way that was quite open to interpretation. She still fascinated me a lot. This girl had her own darkness, her own demons to fight. I guessed it was harder for her to fight them with her arms constantly tied.

Now we were arriving at Agatha's compound. Not her real house, not the mansion she would present as her home to normal guests. This house was more a secluded hideout. It was far from civilization and well-hidden, and I had not even known it existed in this area. I suspected it had to be one of several of its kind, that Agatha maintained.

There was a heavy but inconspicuous gate, half hidden by vegetation. I did not have to announce my arrival, because it already opened for us as we approached. I steered the cascade onto the compound and could see that the small road continued up ahead, disappearing between hills and trees. I stopped the vehicle and got Ivy out of the compartment. I was pretty damn sure that this meeting would take place very privately. If there would be any place where I did not have to worry about people being shocked that I had a tied, gagged, collared woman with me, it was this place right here.

Ivy had coped pretty well with the constant bondage. In the self-made harness she seemed at least a bit more comfortable than in the tape: I had, after all, designed the harness to tie her and keep her under control, but allow her just enough slack so that she would not take lasting damage.

The belts and straps lay tightly around her naked body, criss-crossing between her tits and securing her helpless arms that were strapped to her back with leather belts. Maybe she would have liked to fumble around, searching for a buckle or lock to open, but I had made sure that this was not an option: Her hands were each kept in separate leather pouches that made her fingers useless too.

The collar around her neck was high, heavy and quite tight, locked with a device I had constructed myself. It would not come off easily. And of course Ivy was still gagged, the straps of the head-harness running across her face, between her head and under her chin, securing a thick rubber mouthpiece that contorted her sweet mouth in a beautiful way.

I took the blindfold off her eyes and saw she still had dark rings beneath them. But her pretty green eyes themselves were quite bright, darting around curiously, taking the surroundings in.

"Hrgmmgh...?"

"Yes Ivy, we are nearly there. Remember what I told you: Behave, present yourself as a good slave and give the impression that you are just a kinky girl who enjoys being trussed up like this. If she finds out you have been forced, I will be in trouble. And that will mean I'll be very fucking angry, and I will let you feel what that means."

Ivy looked at my slightly afraid, and nodded. But I knew her well by now and smiled to myself, because it was obvious what she was thinking about. She would use the first opportunity to rat me out. My sweet prisoner was far too rebelious for her own good.

I drove the Cascade down the road, past a high hedge and past another fence, until a building came in sight. It was the kind of weekend getaway only a rich person could afford: At first it seemed humble, until you realized that only its clever architecture hid how sprawling it actually was. Behind it, the lake shimmered in the sun.

There was a massive man standing in front of the building. He was a few years younger than me, very muscular, with a thick neck and a mop of blonde hair on his head. His eyes were more grey than blue and his airy smile made me despise him from the first moment of our acquaintance.

"You must be Ben." He mustered me, asssessed me. "I am Pascal. You should be aware that I am Agathas' partner." I did not care. To me, Pascal was just a pompous little shithead - one that tried to be extra consescending by not even offering me a handshake."Agatha is inside. She asked me to welcome you."

"Sure, why not." I pullled Ivy's leash and the restrained girl stumbled closer. For the first time since I had taken her, someone other than myself could see her, and the excitement showed in her eyes: They were positively flowing over with emotions, her mouth working helplessly around the massive gag.

"Your slave looks tired", Pascal said dismissively. If Ivy had hoped for him to be shocked by her looks or empathic for her plight then she had oped in vain: He communicated with every fiber of his being, that he did not give a shit about her.

"She's new to this and we have been traveling for days", I shrugged. "We are both looking forward to rest. Which, by the way, means that Im very thankful to Agatha for acommodating us."

"You should be more than just thankful", a cool female voice hissed. I was surprised only for a moment. Then I noticed the well-disguised camera next to the house's door and the microphone beneath it.

I smiled. "Hello Agatha. I was thrilled by your invitation. I have often been thinking about you, and about the time we spent together. It's been too long, and I hope we can..."

"Stop trying to flatter me! Get inside. But Pascal will search you first, and I would be very annoyed if you tried in any way to trick or betray me. I know what you are capable of, but look at Pascal: you would not stand a chance. "

"I have no reason to make any trouble, as long as I can trust you." I raised my arms and made the most harmless face possible. Pascal immediately began to search me. He had a stupid grin on his face while he did it, and it took him longer than would have been necessary.

Once he was satisfied, Pascal nodded towards the camera. A buzzer was activated and the door sprung open.

"Come in." Agatha sounded quite frosty. "And let's talk about your future."

I pulled Ivy's leash and entered, with Pascal following behind us. I could only hope that my gambit would pay off.

The inside of Agatha's weekend getaway was something to behold. I admitted to myself that she new very well what she was doing. It reminded me of why I had admired her brand of dominance and control so much in the first place.

Expensive woods and thick carpets gave the place a warm atmosphere. On the oher hand, luxurious furniture and a few expensive pieces of art communicated Agathas wealth. The way the rooms and corridors were arranged and the occasional transparent wall made it all look quite modern and spacious.

A normal person could be a guest in this house without ever noticing the details: How the glass was of a kind that could be polarized by command, in order to turn intransparent. How the windows could not be opened and were reinforced. How the system of rooms and corridors would make it very hard for anyone to get out of this place fast. If you did not know exactly which way to do, you would quickly be lost in a semi-transparent labyrinth.

If you were Agatha's prisoner, you might sometimes see the exit, but you still had to circle around this wall and stumble towards that door and get across this other room, and by then someone would have caught up with you and dragged you back to your cell.

Agatha waited for us quite in the large meeting room in the middle of the house, dominated by an impressive library and an even more impressive media station. She was as beautiful as I remembered her: If anything, the olive-skinned woman was in even better shape these days. Tight dark pants acentuated her slender, long legs and the blouse-and-vest-combo she wore gave her simultaneously a very conservative and yet sexy look. Her arms were bare, and though they were slim and feminine, there were also muscles visible beneath Agatha's silken skin. I could not help myself, I imagined what she would look like, wearing Ivys' restraints.

Agathas dark eyes mustered me and Ivy with a lot of curiosity, but without any kindness.

"There you are. You look tired. And it seems you need a shower."

I was aware that Agatha despised submissive men. I was even more aware that she saw too confident people as a challenge. So my fate hinged on staying right in the middle between those two poles. I smiled, warmly and as rogueishly charming as I could.

"I always loved showering with you, Agatha. But you are correct, I'm foremost very tired. I can not thank you enough for offering me shelter."

The risk I had taken paid off: She looked nearly furious, but her cheeks flushed. She smiled, looking like a young girl just for a second.

"You obnoxious little trucker", Pascal hissed. "How dare you to insinuate..."

Agatha raised a hand and it became immediately clear how little backbone her toyboy had: He immediately fell silent. His mistress instead chuckled, came towards me and hugged me. The smell of her expensive perfume was delicious and her warmth reminded me of our past.

"You have made enemies", she purred. "There is a lively discussion about what you did down in Florida."

"I did nothing wrong", I sighed. "My employer was sloppy. You would never have made the same mistakes."

"I guess not. I tend to be a lot more thorough with my preparations, and I would never allow anyone to uncover the secrets of my... little hobby."

Agatha smiled a wicked smile, and I could not help but respect the woman. But that did not mean that I trusted her even a little more than before.

"I trust you", I said with a smile that was as naive as I could manage. "And if you just let me stay here for a few days, then I'll be very thankful. Just a few days to recover, to hide my trail. I'll keep driving after that, and no one will ever know I was here."

"That's good." Agathas eyes were cold. "No one must ever know, indeed." She then looked at Ivy. My sweet little slave had been standing a step behind me all the time, with wide eyes and and a fast-beating heart. Now, as Agathas looked directly at her, I could easily see what Ivy would do.

"And who is this?" Agatha gestured for me to present Ivy to her. I pulled the leash, but that would not have been necessary: Ivy already stumbled towards Agatha, groaning into her gag, struggling against the harness.

"My new slave, Ivy." I shrugged. "I collected her along the way. She's a special girl, she'll be wonderful once trained."

Agatha hesitated a moment. Then she approached Ivy, studied her more thoroughly. "Her outfit is improvised, her behaviour completely unpolished. Take the gag out of her mouth."

That was a demand one slave owner would usually not make to another. But Agatha did not see me as a member of her society, she just saw me as a freelancer having gone rogue. Obviously, she did not think the rules of courtesy applied to me like they would to others.

I did not unbuckle the gag, but I loosened it enough so that the mouthpiece popped out of Ivy's mouth.

"Tell me my dear, who are you?" Agathas' eyes were gleaming with curiosity.

Ivy lost no time. She answered in a frantic speed, her voice coarse and despaires. "I'm not... not a fucking slave! This guy kidnapped me, I did nit agree to this, it's not my... my kink or whatever. I just saw him on tv and he decided to keep me. Please don't trust him, help me..." Ivy looked from Agatha to Pascal, her wide eyes at the same time fearful and hopeful. "Please, get me out of this stuff, I think I may be going insane!"

Agatha stroked Ivys cheek and pulled the girls face closer to her. She made a calming sound, then kissed Ivys ear. When she whispered something, I could not understand what she said. But I saw Ivys mouth open, a sorrowful cry escaping her throat. Then Agatha already had grabbed Ivys gag and stuffed it back into her mouth, pulling it a lot tighter than it had been before.

"Really, very unpolished." She laughed. "Ben, you chose a strange moment to take your own slave. But what's done is done, yes?"

"Yes." I nodded.

"Well, you'll stay for dinner. But first you should get some rest. Follow that corridor, turn left at the end, and you'll find your apartment."

"Thank you Agatha." I nodded respectfully. "I'll make sure that Ivy gets some refreshments too."

"Oh, no." Agatha shook her head and nodded to Pascal. The leash was taken out of my hand. Now, funnily enough, Ivy protested loudly, struggling and pulling on the leash, because the thought of being seperated from me seemed to scare her. "I will take care of your slave. She can stay with Bianca while dinner is being prepared. We'll get her a proper outfit. I am sure she looks beautiful in rubber encasement."

So Bianca Obutu was still here. I admit that the thought immediately gave me a hardon. I had kidnapped her for Agatha years ago. What might have become of the beautiful, talented young woman after such a long time as a prisoner?

As to Ivy, there was nothing I could say or do. Agatha would not allow me to talk her out of this. I had no leverage.

"That's fine", I said. "I'l be glad if you take good care of her. But I collared her, and I am sure you'll respect the collar. Even thugh it's handmade."

I could see that Agatha was divided on the topic. Sure, she saw me as a Maverick, not a real member of the society. On the other hand, the collar of another Dom needed to be respected under all circumstances. It was one of the foundations of this whole, wicked subculture.

To my relief, Agatha finally nodded. "I will not touch her collar, and neither will Pascal. For now."

That was the best outcome I could have hoped for.

"Thank you Agatha. Whatever you decide to do with me, I'm looking forward to dinner with you. It will be just like old times."

I winked at Pascal and turned around. I walked down the corridor, like Agatha had told me to. Behind me, a panel of reinforced glass hissed shut. I was locked in now, and the person who controlled the houses security system controlled the labyrinth and thus controlled where I could and could not go. Another door opened in front of me, allowed me to enter the small apartment, shut behind me again. There was a soft bed, a large bathroom, everything I could ask for. But there were no windows. I knew that I, too was Agathas' prisoner now.

If my gamble would pay off? That, I would find out in the evening.


Chapter 6

So here I was: Trapped inside the technical wonders of Agatha Bernadotte's secret counry-hideout, a maze of aluminium, concrete and reinforced glass. I had no control, Agatha had all the power. Even my sweet slave Ivy had been taken away from me.

But this suite had a shower and a kingsized bed, so fuck everything else. I showered and shaved and then slept for a few hours. I knew that my plan would either work or not, and that I could only wait until dinner to find out which of the two it would be.

The intercom's chirping woke me up. Through the unbreakable windows, I could see the sky darkening. Right in front of the glass door that sealed my apartment, a figure was standing.

It had once been a woman, but now she was nothing more than a black, shiny creature. Even though she did not wear the original outfit anyxmore - the one I had designed for her five years ago - I still recognized her: Bianca Obutu was indeed still here, and her fate had remained more or less the same.

The tall woman had been forced into a shiny latex catsuit. The material had an inbuilt corset, and her wasp waist showed that she must have worn it as good as constantly in the past years. Her vuluptuous breasts were well-visible through the latex, protruding in an unnatural way through the pressure of the corset and the latex.

A high, strict collar was placed around her throat, and it caused her neck to appear especially thin and elongated. Her feet and calves were stuck in a pair of ballet boots, as shiny as the rest of her outfit. They made her appear even taller than she already was. For her feet, it had to be pure torture walking and standing tiptoed like that. But it definitely looked stunning.

Was she still sane, or had she given up a long time ago? Did she recognize me? Was she crying, pleading, cursing me or just staring ahead blankly? There was no way to tell, because Agatha did not allow Bianca to have a face. Her head was covered in dark latex, completely sealed away from the world except for two dark lenses where her eyes would have been. Were those small cameras, allowing Bianca to witness what happened outside her bondage prison? I guessed so, but I could also only guess how often she would be left blind and deaf inside. It was, after all, Agatha's choice as to how often the cameras would be activated.

The mask also had small seals where Bianca's ears would be, and at her mouth. It was a great solution for sensory deprivation of course: I was sure that she could be kept deaf or that a feed of different sounds (white noise, whale songs, Mozart, Billie Eilish?) could be used to torture her at any given time. Seal at her mouth was clearly hidiing a gag in place, and I did not doubt that it could also be opened and used to feed her a liquid diet without ever giving her a chance tu utter a single syllable.

Her arms were not visible anymore and for a moment I asked myself if they had been removed. But then, since I was skilled in extreme bondage concepts, I saw them still: They had been folded on her back into a nearly impossible reverse prayer position, with her elbows fused and her forearms and hands reaching up far between her shoulder blades, secured to the back of her neck. No wonder that at first I had not noticed them: Biancas torturers had hidden them away so tightly beneath the latex that they could not have been there at all. It would not have made any different for the poor female.

Bianca had always been a strong-willed, confident woman, and she had despised bdsm. Agatha had told me about that. She had recounted to me how Bianca had often teased her, but had never allowed Agatha to actually enjoy games of bondage or domination with her.

For a while, Agatha had indulged Bianca and had allowed her to believe that she had things under control. But in secret, Agatha had grown more and more lustful and spiteful.

While I watched, I heard a soft humming noise and saw the whole, black figure shiver. Only now I noticed the belt she was wearing, the flat device that was strapped to her crotch. I smiled, because it had been me who had advised Agatha to implement it: This held plugs inside Bianca and could also be used to apply vibrations or electric shocks. You wanted her to orgasm? You could force her to do that within a minute. You wanted her to suffer? That even took only a second, until the current hit her most vulnerable parts.

"Agatha told me you have met Shiny before." That was Pascal's voice coming from the intercom, obnoxious and slightly arrogant as ever. I hated that fucking guy. "She will lead you to the dining room, once you are dressed. Just chose from the closets in your room, use whatever you want." He added, with a spiteful tone in his bitchy voice: "I'm just afraid we are a little short on cheap flannel and discounter jeans."

That turned out to be true. But they had a few descent shirts and a nice wool suit by Barberis Canonico. I put that on and then approached the glass door.

"Agatha gave me complete control over the system", Pascal declared quite smugly. "I just need to press one button and you'll be released from your cell... I mean your suite." He chuckled. "Say 'please'."

I sighed and shook my head. "Boy, you have no complete control over the system. Only Agatha has that, just as she keeps your tiny balls in a small tin on her mantlepiece. And I am damn sure that she will take them out of the box and apply a painful amount of pressure to them, if I arrive to late at the dinner table."

Anger is energy. He did not say a word, but I could feel how enraged he was through several concrete and glass walls. A second later, the door's lock clicked and I could open it.

"Follow Shiny", he said with all the suppressed ire of a pimpled teenager.

Another shiver went through the latex-clad doll in front of me. I suspected that the suit was applying pressure, using a combination of electric shocks and audio commands, to signal the former Bianca, nowadays known as Shiny, what she was supposed to do. It was fascinating what you could drum into a human being with enough brainwash, torture and routine. And it was a beautiful sight: With only the barest audible moaning noise emenating from inside the hood, the female folded down, first into a kneeling position and then with her head against the ground. Then, with a kind of surreal grace that showed how well-trained and broken in she was by now, she began half crawling and half dragging herself forwards. She was used to this mode of movement. Her top speed would problebly be "leisurly stroll", which was of course perfect for a slave with no expected chance to ever escape her predicament.

The, house, I noticed again as Bianca led me through it, was indeed a labyrinth. A less prepared visitor would have had a hard time remembering the route, especially since I was quite sure that a few hours earlier, other doors and passages had opened for me. It was so typical of Agatha that she would do everything to confuse and mislead me.

A minute later my lead and I arrived in the dining room. Candles were burning and food was already prepared. It smelled delicious. Agatha wore a beautiful black dress and was in a great mood, her dark eyes sparkling. Pascal was wearing a pastel-coloured polo shirt that perfectly fitted his character. I decided that, if opportunity arose, I might strangle him with the damn thing.

And Ivy was there too. She was in trouble. And she was beautiful. But oh man, was she ever in a lot of trouble. Seeing what Agatha and Pascal had done to her immediately gave me a massive erection.

"Agatha", I said impressed, "you are still a great artist."