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Author's Note: The Renaissance Faire never really closes...
Prologue
The Renaissance Faire has always been a refuge for freaks and weirdos. A safe place for the socially awkward and misunderstood. For the last 3 years, however, Notts' Renaissance Faire in Georgia has expanded its demographic to a new clientele. One with incredibly deep wallets and the need for total and complete anonymity.
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But before we get into that, let me start with a bit of history. My name is Ali Rook. Ali's short for Alison. Just your average, pretty, slender, freckled, 26 year-old redhead who happens to run a Renaissance Faire. Of course, "average", by Ren. Faire standards, is antonymous with the conventional definition of the word "average". Most average 26 year-old girls don't inherit multi-million dollar corporations from their extended family members.
My uncle, Henry Notts, founded the Notts' Ren. Faire 22 years ago. I was 5 years old when he drove my sister and me across the country to see the land that would become our new home. Uncle Henry had just adopted me after my parents died in a car crash.
My sister- well, half sister, Becca Notts, was 10 when we arrived. That was back when we used to get along. That relationship soured almost instantly upon her learning that she'd just inherited the full-time responsibility of baby-sitting her 5 year-old step-sister. Uncle Henry did his best to juggle the roles of single caregiver and bread-winner, but doing both proved to be more challenging than he anticipated. So, while Uncle Henry was off building his medieval empire, Becca begrudgingly looked after me. It didn't take long for the two of us to become mortal enemies.
Becca was the Lex Luthor to my Superman. The Green Goblin to my Spidey. Hey- I told you I lived in a community of social outcasts. I happened to be a proud comic book nerd. But Becca had always been cruel to me. Vindictiveness may not have been my strongest suit, but as far as Becca was concerned, I did my best to dish it right back. I always attempted to conceal our mutual animosity when Uncle Henry was around. But behind closed doors, we were always ready to throw down.
It was several years later that I ultimately landed the final blow to our relationship. Once I became old enough, I dove into the role of helping my uncle run the faire. He took me under his wing. I was his shadow and dedicated myself to learning everything there possibly was to learn. Unlike Becca, I lived for this place. There was nowhere I'd have rather been. Uncle Henry and I had that in common. And the bond that created between us only drove Becca and I further apart.
Once Becca hit high school, she ignored me altogether. I don't think we said a single word to each other for years. Once she graduated, she fled South Carolina without a trace. Other than the occasional letter or birthday card, Uncle Henry never saw his daughter again. But I stayed behind in her place. I had no interest in college or anywhere else. The Faire was all I needed. That and Uncle Henry, of course.
I was 22 when Uncle Henry passed away from a stroke. I know- sad shit. But I was fortunate enough to have another family waiting to adopt me. One that had a reputation for taking in all who needed refuge from the misery of the real world. It was the tight-nit staff here at Notts' Faire. And as you might have guessed, Uncle Henry had willed the land and business to me. Me and Becca, that is. But none of that mattered. Because, Becca would be going away again after the funeral and I could get back to running the Ren. Faire, just as Uncle Henry and I had always done.
Or so I thought. Uncle Henry hadn't even been buried yet before I discovered Becca seeking potential buyers for Notts' Faire. I was in my office, speaking with the tomb stone engravers when I saw Becca through my window. She was leading 3 business men in suits down Centre Street, heading towards the old stadium. She was smiling! Our father had just died and she was selling his life's work! She cared only about collecting her inheritance!
Grief does strange things to a person. For me, it apparently brings out my inner psychopath. Because, before I knew it, I was outside the castle, sprinting down the street towards her. I can't say I remember much about the fight that ensued, but I'm told it was ugly. Bruises on my cheek and chin indicated that Becca had landed a few lucky punches, but my staff assure me that I still won the fight. Unfortunately, my victory was short-lived. It wasn't a full day before I received a letter informing me that I was the subject of lawsuit. Becca was suing me for assault and battery.
While my staff would have had my back 100%, Becca had the testimony of the three respectable businessmen who accompanied her. She was claiming emotional distress and demanding payment in the form of the deed to Notts' Faire. The bitch really knew how to hit me where it hurt. The next couple months definitely marked a low point in my life. Legal fees stacked up quickly and my odds at winning grew slimmer by the day. My second lawyer pressed me to settle in order to avoid jail time. My whole life was slipping from my fingers and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I was nearly at rock-bottom when I received the miraculous phone call that would change my circumstances forever. A man by the name of James Mason was interested in buying Notts' Faire. But not only was he interested in buying the faire, he also requested that I stay on as Operations Manager. It really was a miracle. Becca would be able to get the millions that she cared so much about, and I'd get to remain at the Faire that I cared so much about. Everything could stay the same! I could keep my staff. I could keep creative control over the company, and I could carry on my uncle's legacy. Everything seemed perfect...
But the next details of our arrangement are where this story begins. I listened with bated breath as James Mason spelled out his one stipulation to the sale. During the faire's off-season, (November through March), he insisted that no faire personnel would be permitted on the premises. Not even I would be allowed on the grounds during this time. Failure to oblige would mean immediate termination and prosecution for trespassing. When I asked what he planned to use the grounds for, he simply told me that he was unable to disclose further details. He insisted that discretion was the only way that this deal was possible.
It took me all of 5 seconds to agree. What other choice did I have? This was the best deal I was ever going to receive. I cast all of my skepticism aside and took the win. Days later, Becca and I had both signed on the dotted line. Notts' Faire now belonged to James Mason, Becca had dropped the lawsuit against me, and I returned, once more, to honoring the my uncle's life's work. Life was good again.
At first, I made the attempt to be in frequent communications with James Mason. He was rarely on location, so we mainly communicated by phone and email. I ran every decision by him. I copied every proposal to his inbox. But after a string of unanswered emails and texts, it became abundantly clear that he couldn't care less How I ran things here. His only concern was the faire's off-season...
Over the years, a shroud of mystery fell over the once reputable Notts' Faire name. During the off months, locals claimed to hear loud horns echoing through the forest. Dark trucks were frequently seen traveling in and out of the faire's brand new security checkpoints. Some of the staff believed that the military had begun using our facilities. Others insisted that pot farmers were brought in to grow crop on the southern fields. As the rumors spread, they became more and more nefarious.
So, early last winter, I finally decided it was time push my weight with the boss and find out what was going on around here. I cared too much about my Uncle's legacy to allow his reputation to be soiled by any unsavory activities taking place in the off-season. So, I picked up the phone and called James Mason, demanding we speak immediately. Despite it being early December, Mason agreed to admit me onto the grounds for a meeting with him at the castle. Little did I know- this meeting would begin a chain reaction that would ultimately change my life forever...
Chapter 1 - Enter Jodie
When I pulled my moped up to the Notts' Faire entryway, I was surprised to see a brand new security check point with a car barrier. Several uniformed guards sat inside the security hut.
As I approached, a burly guard exited the hut and stepped up to me with a clipboard. Once I came to a stop, he asked, "Can I help you, ma'am?"
"I'm here for a meeting with James Mason," I replied.
"What's your name?" The guard asked, looking down at his clipboard.
"Alison Rook, Operations Manager," I said.
The guard scanned his clipboard, and then replied. "Alright, Miss Rook. May I see some identification?"
"ID? Really?" I asked, perturbed. "I need my ID to go up to my own office?"
"Sorry, ma'am. It's protocol," the guard replied patiently.
I snorted, rolling my eyes. Lowering the kick-stand with my heel, I twisted around to unsnap the storage pack behind me. Peering inside, I realized that I'd left my wallet back at home. "Shit, I forgot my wallet," I said.
The guard blinked at me. "I'm... sorry, ma'am. I can't let allow you entry without a valid form of identification."
"Seriously?" I asked bluntly. "I'm the operations manager here." The guard blinked at me, unimpressed. "Look, can you call up to Mason. He'll tell you who I am."
"What about vehicle registration?" He asked.
"Seriously?" I replied, throwing serious shade at this point. "Dude, I won this scooter in a poker game. It doesn't even hit 35 miles per hour. Of course it's not registered."
Seeing my irritation, the two other guards stepped out of the security hut, with their arms folded in front of them.
The burly guard next to me pulled his walkie-talkie out of it's holster and lifted it to speak. "Gate to Castle, I have someone by the name of Alison Rook here to meet Mr. Mason. She's carrying no identification. She tells me she's the operations manager. Can you access Notts' database and shoot me a picture?"
After a brief pause, the voice on the other end replied, "Copy that." Almost instantly, I heard a beep from the security hut.
One of the security guards leaned inside, looking at the computer screen. After glancing back and forth between me and the screen, he pressed a button on the control panel on the desk, raising the car barrier. Motioning his hand forward, he called to me, "You're free to enter."
Without saying anything, I raised the kickstand and sped beneath the raised barrier. As I rounded the turn of the long driveway into the fairegrounds, my eyes widened from the sight before me. All 4 parking lots were completely filled with cars. Even our busy season at the faire was hard-pressed to attract crowds like these! My eyes darted around, unable to find a single open parking space. Unwilling to take the time to drive around looking, I cruised right up to the front of lot A and rolled over the curb into the grass. Hopping off, I walked my bike behind the tree line and parked it behind some brush.
As I walked through the open gate, several guards seated inside the ticket office raised their heads to look at me. The guard closest to the door jumped to his feed and walked briskly over to the closest turnstile. "Can I help you, ma'am?" he asked.
"Oh for fuck's sake," I said under my breath, "Nope, I'm good. Thanks!"
"May I ask where you're headed?" he pressed.
Sighing, I replied "I have a meeting with Mason at the castle. Your buddies down the road already cleared me for entry."
"Please allow me assist you," he replied.
I put my hand up, stubbornly. "Look, I work here. I'm the operations manager. I helped lay the flagstone that you're standing on. I know where I'm going."
"I'm sure you do, ma'am," he said, apologetically. "We're under strict orders not to allow guests to be unattended."
"Ugh, whatever," I spat. The guard gratefully extended his hand forward, allowing me to walk through the turnstile first. I walked briskly past him. He followed through the turnstile and sped up to walk along-side of me toward the castle. We walked down an empty Centre Street, over the cross-bridge, through the castle courtyard, and finally up to the large oak doors to the castle. The guard reached up and knocked on the door twice with the iron door knocker. Moments, the large doors swung open.
"Am I good now, officer?" I asked snarkily.
"Yes ma'am," he replied courteously. "Have a good evening." I rolled my eyes and walked inside the grand foyer. The large doors closed behind me. The castle foyer was buzzing with people. Businessmen, workers, and... you guessed it- more security guards. I headed for the grand staircase, relieved to have no more eyes following me. Once at the top of the staircase, I made my way to Mason's office, my old office, at the end of the long hallway. I knocked on the door, and opened it, peeking my head inside.
"Mr. Mason?" I asked.
Mason was sitting at his desk, typing on his computer. Upon my intrusion, he looked up to meet my gaze. "Miss Rook," he replied, "-come in."
As I entered, Mason nodded his head toward the sofa across from him. "Take a seat," he said. He continued typing as I sad down. A few seconds later, he finished typing and looked up at me. His eyes were tired and he seemed genuinely irritated a the prospect of having to meet me. "So, what was so urgent that you needed to speak with me about tonight?"
"Well," I replied, weighing my words, "some of the staff is concerned about the off-season." Mason stared blankly back at me. "Specifically, what happens here after we leave." Mason continued to stare silently. "I noticed you've got some pretty intense security measures in place..." I probed. "Look- you didn't know my uncle, but he was a good man. He was well loved by his staff and the community. We're all just a bit concerned that his reputation could be tarnished from... whatever it is you've got going on here."
"What do you think I do here, Miss Rook?" Mason asked without hesitation.
"Honestly, I haven't got the faintest clue. But people talk."
"And that bothers you? What people say?" He asked.
"I..." I hesitated, not knowing how to answer. I always felt like I was visiting a therapist when I spoke with Mason. He was a master at answering questions with another question. And the way he spoke always seemed to leave me unarmed and off-guard. "I think it would bother anyone to see their life's work blemished."
"Blemished," Mason repeated. He stared at me for a moment then reached up to remove his glasses. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. "Miss Rook, I'm afraid I can offer you little comfort beyond my personal assurance that whatever nefarious rumors you've overheard are nothing more than rumors."
"I haven't told you what rumors I've overheard-" I said.
"Let me clarify," he interrupted, "Nothing leaks outside these walls. The nature of our work here is highly classified and our security measures are unmatched. If you've heard rumors, I can assure you- they are either false or the products of guesswork. I've made a living in the business of discretion. Believe me- no blemish will come to the Notts' family name on my account."
Just then, a knock at the door stole Mason's attention. The door opened and a short-haired blonde man leaned in the room. "Sir, drones 20 through 24 are still offline. Should we deploy backups?
Mason hesitated for a second and glanced back at me. "Was there anything else, Miss Rook?"
"Well, yeah..." I replied, not entirely satisfied with his answer.
Mason sighed in irritation and stood to his feet. "Please excuse me for a moment." He walked briskly out of the room with the blonde man. Once the door closed behind him, I exhaled deeply. For a man of so few of words, Mason really was intimidating. I turned back toward his desk, replaying our conversation in my head. Somehow, I knew even less than I knew before I got here. Dealing with Mason was infuriating!
Just then, I realized that he'd left his computer screen unlocked. I glanced back towards the door, straining my ears to hear whether anyone was nearby. Nothing. So, I quietly stood to my feet and leaned over his desk to take a peak. Spinning the laptop towards me, I saw an open window titled 'CANCELLATIONS'. It looked like a registry of sorts, resembling a digital yearbook. My heart raced as I used the track-pad to scroll down rapidly through dozens of pictures and names. I had no idea what I was looking at, but I felt like Sherlock Holmes, on the cusp of unlocking a case. Just then, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest as I scrolled past what looked like a picture of me! I frantically scrolled back up, only to realize that it was just a doppelgänger. The name beneath the picture read 'Jodie O'Connell'. She was skinny, smiling redhead, who appeared to be in her mid 20's. Other than a few subtle differences- shorter hair, paler skin, slightly wider nose, she and I did bear an insanely striking resemblance. We could easily have been sisters.
Out of sheer curiosity, I double-clicked her image, making a new window pop up. I scanned through what looked like Jodie's medical file. Age, height, weight, blood type, etc. And at the top of the window were two buttons. One was greyed out, with the word 'ATTENDING'. The other was red, with the words 'NOT ATTENDING'. I clicked the red 'NOT ATTENDING' box, prompting a drop down note. It read-
DETAILS: Workers visa set to expire 12/7. Extension denied.
Cancelled on 10/27. Returning to Dublin, Ireland on 12/5.
"So, Jodie's Irish," I mused quietly to myself as if I were uncovering a critical clue. I glanced over my shoulder again toward the door. Still nothing. Out of sheer curiosity, I then decided to click the 'ATTENDING' box. The greyed out box suddenly turned green and a drop-down menu appeared. The once-red 'NOT ATTENDING' box was now greyed out. The drop-down beneath the green button read- 'Resend digital security pass?'
I was getting past the point of no return. Not only did I have no idea what I was messing with, if Mason walked in on me messing with his computer, there's no Way he'd let me keep my job at the Faire. Hell- I'd probably be issued a restraining order! But I was in too deep. Curiosity willed me to continue. I clicked the 'YES' box next to the prompt, causing another drop-down menu to appear reading-
Confirm email: oconnell.j@msn.com
I hesitated, weighing my options. What the hell- I took a deep breath and went for it. I clicked the text window and erased Jodie's email address and quickly replaced it with my own-
Confirm email: southrook@gmail.com
I pressed enter, prompting final drop-down that read, 'DIGITAL SECURITY PASS DELIVERED'.
My phone suddenly buzzed in my pocket, making my jump. I yanked it out to see that I'd just received a new email titled, 'CLASSIFIED: SECURITY PASS'. With my fingers trembling, I opened the email. It looked like some sort of security clearance badge with Jodie O'Connell's name and picture displayed on it. At the bottom of the badge was a VR code. My heart was beating a mile a minute. Would this security pass clear me to enter the faire during the off-season?!
Just then, I heard voices from outside the door. I frantically clicked out of Jodie's file and scrolled back up to the top of the previous window. I angled the computer back to its original position and dove back into my seat. No sooner did my back hit the chair that the door swung open and Mason walked briskly back into the office.
"My apologies. We've got a busy night on our hands," Mason said straight-toned. What else may I help you with, Miss Rook?"
I stared back at him trying my best to seem casual. "Actually," I began, "I think you put my mind to ease." I could feel myself blushing. I had to get out of there before I said something suspicious and exposed myself. "I trust that you're putting my uncle's land to responsible use. Thank you for taking the time to see me."
Mason blinked back at me suspiciously. "Nothing else?" He probed, studying my face.
I had to think fast. He knew something was up. Dammit. The next words out of my mouth were crucial. "I..." think Alison, think! "I was going to ask you about renovations to the winery, but it can wait for another time. I can see you've got your hands full tonight.
"Oh," Mason said, raising his eyebrows. "Well, send me the details and I'd be happy to take a look."
"Thank you, Mr. Mason."
"No trouble at all," he replied, standing up crossing over to me. "I'm... sorry if I was a bit short tonight. We really do have a busy 24 hours ahead of us."
"Quite alright," I replied, "I know how that is."
Mason opened the door and extended his hand toward me. "You have my word that your uncle's good name will remain intact. Okay?"
I reached out and shook his hand. "That's all I ask," I replied with a smile. "Thank you," I said, exiting the office.
"Good evening," he replied, closing the door behind me. I exhaled in relief as I walked down the hallway. My heart was still pounding out of my chest, but at least I'd managed to clear myself of any suspicion from Mason's point of view. Now, all I had to do was keep it together until I made it outside the gate.
I could hardly believe my luck tonight! At no point in had I ever anticipated my night consisting of hacking into my boss's computer and stealing park security clearance. But Uncle Henry had always called me his little detective. I was officially one step closer to uncovering the mystery of James Mason and the off-season at Notts' Faire.
When I arrived at the top of the grand staircase, my stomach suddenly dropped as I saw a security guard looking right at me and walking towards me. Why was he looking at me?! Something was wrong.
"I'll show you to your car, Ma'am," he offered politely.
"Oh!" I replied awkwardly. "Uh, moped, in fact. But actually- you know what? I think I can find my own way. Thanks."
"My apologies, ma'am. No guests are currently permitted to move about the grounds unsupervised."
"Ugh," I answered, feeling my resentment of the guards resurface. "Actually," I stopped and pulled out my phone. "I'm... not a guest. I have clearance." I held up my phone to the guard, showing Jodie O'Connell's security badge. He looked back and forth from the phone to me, evidently confused.
"My apologies..." He stammered, "You're uh... I... I don't think you're supposed to be here." He glanced over at the security desk at the castle's main entrance. "I thought all contestants were supposed to be settled in by 9."
Contestant? "Uh, my meeting went long. Just point me in the right direction..."
The guard hesitated, obviously unsure of how to react. "Uh- actually, if I can ask you to wait here for one moment-" he said, raising his walkie-talkie. "Baker 7. I have a contestant with me here at the castle."
After a brief pause, a voice responded, "A contestant?"
"Affirmative," the guard said, turning away from me awkwardly. What was going on?
The male voice on the other end replied, "At the castle?"
"Uh," the guard responded, "She had a meeting..."
"Bring her to East Inn #4. Quickly," The voice ordered.
"Copy that," the guard replied. He motioned forward, "This way, ma'am."
I followed the guard out of the castle. What the hell was I doing? Was all of this even worth getting answers to my questions? I was walking blindly into a situation that could very-well backfire in ways I couldn't fathom. The guard walked briskly to a golf-cart parked on the sidewalk and reached out his hand to help me in "Watch your step, ma'am."
I ignored his helping hand and climbed in the golf cart on my own. Once I was seated, the guard climbed into the driver seat and put the gas peddle to the floor. I squinted as the cool air blew against my face. The streets of Notts' Faire were dark and empty. I loved the grounds most at night. Uncle Henry's creation really seemed to come alive in the moonlight. But now was not the time for nostalgia. I was heading deep undercover as an Irish woman named Jodie. Which reminded me- I'm supposed to be Irish! I really ought to be speaking with an Irish accent. As luck would have it- I happened to run a Renaissance Faire and was fluent in the most of the British tongues.
We drove up to the one of the most recent additions to Notts' faire- The Yorkshire Inns. It was more of a series of multiplex motels than inns, but "motel" didn't quite have that quaint Renaissance feel to it. As we got closer, I could see security guards stationed everywhere around the buildings. Had to be over a dozen, pacing and standing guard. What on earth needed so much security? Moments later, we parked in front of the main office at East Inn #4 and my driver jumped out, motioning toward the door. "This way, ma'am." As we approached, another guard held open the door. Walking into the office, I spotted a middle-aged woman with shiny black hair and spectacles sitting behind the register, typing on a computer.
"Cutting it a bit close, eh sweetie?" she said, peering at me from above her spectacles. She had a surprisingly deep and sultry voice and looked like what I imagined a real vampire might look like.
"My meeting went long," I said in my best Irish accent.
If my guard wasn't confused before, he sure as hell was now. The black haired woman grabbed some sort of scanner device next to her computer and stood to her feet. She was slender and had to be over 6 feet tall.
"May I see your ID Badge?" She asked politely as she walked over to me.
I quickly unlocked my phone and showed her. She lifted the scanner device and pressed it against the barcode at the bottom of the screen. An electric chime sounded and a green light blinked at the top of the device.
"Alright, Miss O'Connell, my name is Mistress Annabelle. It's a pleasure to meet you," she said pleasantly. Did she say Mistress? I was used to hearing titles like master and mistress occasionally at the Ren Faire, but only amongst cast members who were in character. "Please follow me and we'll get you settled in," she added, as she turned to leave.
I followed behind her as she exited the office, jogging every so often to keep up with her long strides. Everyone certainly seemed to be in a hurry tonight.
When we reached room #18, she opened the door and held it open for me. I walked inside hesitantly, unsure of what to expect. Leaning inside the room, Annabelle reached over to the wall switch and flipped on the lights. To my relief, nothing was out of the ordinary. Single bed, cozy accommodations, just as I'd helped Uncle Henry arrange it. In my paranoia, I continued to look around the room, half-expecting some dark twisted secret to reveal itself. Unfortunate, I didn't have to wait any longer...
"I'm afraid we're short on time, so we'll need to skip the instruction videos," Annabelle said. "But I see that you're a second year, so, I'm sure you remember the rules from last time. They haven't changed very much. So, as soon as you've freshened up, go ahead and drink your sedative."
I blinked at Annabelle, trying to hide my confusion. "My sedative?" I asked.
Annabelle pointed to the nightstand, where an aluminum canister sat. "When you're ready for bed," she replied, "-drink the entire bottle. Big day tomorrow. You'll need your rest."
I hesitated. This was all getting a bit bizarre. I was being asked to take a sedative? I wanted to ask for clarification, but I realized that I risked blowing my cover by doing so. So instead, I simply smiled and replied, "Thank you."
"My pleasure, love," Annabelle replied, "We're so glad to have you back." And with that, she closed the door, leaving me alone in my room with the sedative that I was supposed to drink. What the HELL was going on here?! Why was I being asked to drink a sedative?! And what did she mean by, 'big day tomorrow'? Apparently Jodie O'Connell had attended last year. What if I were to cross paths with someone who knew her? Would they recognize that we weren't the same person?! My mind raced with questions, each causing the pit in my stomach to drop lower. I stood in silence, off in my own little world as I stared at the aluminum canister on the nightstand.
After nearly a minute, I came to the conclusion that I had to back out of this. My undercover operation had gone far enough. I needed to call the woman back and tell her that something had come up and I needed to leave. I hustled toward the doorknob and twisted it open. Rushing outside, I was surprised to see that Annabelle was still standing outside my door talking with one of the guards. She turned towards me with her eyebrows raised.
"What's the matter, love?" she asked, seemingly concerned.
"I... I've made a mistake," I stammered, ditching my Irish accent. "I'm not supposed to be here. Something's come up. I need to leave."
"Oh dear," Annabelle replied, her furrowing her forehead in thought. "Alright. Well, come inside and tell me what's going on."
She turned back to the guard and said quietly, "Give me a minute." Then, she walked back over and pushed the door open, motioning me back inside. Begrudgingly, I accepted her invitation and walked stepped inside the room. It was at this moment that I felt something sting the side my neck. I gasped and shot my hand upward to my neck. But I instantly felt the Annabelle's arm wrap tightly around my torso, holding my hands down to my side.
"What the-" I said out loud.
"Cold feet numb the rational mind to reason," Annabelle said quietly into my ear.
Instantly, I felt disoriented. She had injected me with something! My knees suddenly gave out and my vision became blurred. I felt an arm lift my legs from behind the knees. And another arm supported my back as I toppled backwards. The woman named Annabelle now cradled me in the air, shushing me as a mother would her child. I struggled against her as best I could, but I was rapidly losing strength.
Right before I lost consciousness, I heard her whisper to me in a faux Irish accent, "Good luck out there, lassie." Then everything went dark...
Chapter 2 - The Hunt
I awoke abruptly to the sound of loud foghorn in the distance. Three consecutive blows to be exact. I shivered as I inhaled a deep breath of crisp morning air. I groaned inwardly as I felt my head pounding to the beat of my heart. My hearing was muffled as if my ears had seashells cupped over them. Fuck morning migraines, I thought, wincing in pain. I pressed my eyelids tightly together and turned to roll over. That's when I first realized I wasn't in my bed. Beneath me, the ground felt firm and damp. I opened my eyes in confusion, but everything around me was a bright blur. As I willed my eyes to adjust, I attempted to sit upright. But for some reason, I couldn't seem to lift my arms. I couldn't move them at all! As I struggled to orient myself, my heartbeat began to race and my breathing quickened. That's when I first recognized the smell of dirt. My eyesight came into focus, revealing a forest around me. Why was I in the woods?! Confused, I glanced down to see that I was laying on my side in a bed of dirt and pine needles. With exception to my panties and thin black bands around each of my ankles that resembled leather BDSM cuffs, I was completely nude!
As I attempted to scramble to my feet, I suddenly realized why my arms were not cooperating. Something was keeping them pinned behind me. Two leather straps crisscrossed over my chest above my exposed breasts. I sat upright and craned my head to look over my shoulder. The straps were attached to a black leather arm-binder that secured my arms tightly together behind me. I twisted and writhed against the arm-binder, but instantly realized the futility.
"What the Fuck?" I said out loud. But as I spoke, I heard my own voice betray me. What actually came out of my mouth was, "Ot ha huck?" My eyes widened as I realized that I couldn't move my mouth! My jaw was wrenched open wide by something that was lodged behind my front teeth! I yelped in shock and frantically began running my tongue around the front of my mouth. Someone had put a ring-gag on me! What the FUCK?! It wasn't any old ring-gag, either. This fucker was huge! No wonder my migraine seemed to radiate from my jaw!
What was going on?! How did this happen?! I panted as my eyes darted wildly around the forest, searching for any clue as to where I was. I continued to tug frantically on the armbinder and tossed my head back and forth pointlessly. But my inner voice told me to calm myself. I was doing my migraine no favors by having a panic attack. I forced myself to close my eyes and take several deep breaths. In through my nose, out through my mouth... First things first. How did I get here? What was the last thing I remembered? I was at the castle... or wait- NO! I was at the Inn! I was posing as the Irish lady and met the vampire lady with black hair- Annabelle! Who drugged me! I suddenly remembered everything.
I jumped as I heard more foghorns sounding off in the distance. This time, only two consecutive horn blows. Once again, the sound seemed muffled and distorted for some reason. I glanced down again at the straps crisscrossing my chest. I was familiar enough with armbinders to know that securing the straps in this way made escape virtually impossible for the wearer. Stubbornly, I refused to accept defeat. I rolled my shoulders and leaned from side to side, causing my braided ponytail to slap my face annoyingly. I suddenly realized why everything sounded so muffled. Was I hooded?! I sat upright and crossed my eyes to see if I could see my nose. Surely enough, I was able to make out the shiny black latex that undoubtedly encompassed my entire head. Judging by the lack of cool air against my skin, I realized that the hood must have only had cutouts for my eyes, nostrils, and mouth. "Ot ah HUCK!!"
Another muffled foghorn sounded in the distance. This time, there was only one horn blow. To my surprise, I suddenly heard what sounded like an electronic chime sound from beneath my chin. What the hell? Was I wearing a collar?! But before I had time to react, I felt a powerful electric shock to both my neck and asshole! My eyes nearly shot out of my skull and I twitched and shrieked in surprise. After a few seconds, the shocking ceased. What the hell was that?! I glanced down at my panties only to realize that they weren't panties at all! They were, rather, a leather chastity belt of sorts with a metallic locking mechanism on the front. I rolled over into a seated position which made me groan in discomfort. It felt like I was wearing a butt-plug! I tried to shift my weight, but to no avail. Any position I sat in only applied painful discomfort to my asshole. I tried clenching my anus to expel whatever was inside, but it appeared to be trapped inside by the chastity belt.
I leaned forward to get a closer look at what I was dealing with. Between my legs, I was able to make out an open metal ring located directly above my pussy. My clit was exposed beneath it. I kicked my legs to try and wriggle out, but the belt's straps were secured tightly above my hips and the leather g-string was pulled snugly against my crotch. There was no escaping this contraption. As I kicked the air in stupid desperation, the metal D-ring on each of my ankle cuffs jingled softly.
To make matters worse, it seemed like the more that I moved and struggled, the more aroused I seemed to get... I could feel my pussy growing wetter and my nipples growing harder. What was wrong with me? It was at this point that I realized that it may not have been my own fault... It suddenly dawned on me that my butt-plug was no ordinary butt-plug. I sat still for a moment and gave my rear-end a little shake. Surely enough, I felt a slight jingle from deep within me. It was a Ben Wa butt-plug! From what I could tell, the two balls were connected. One jingled merely inside of me behind my sphincter and the other pressed snugly against my taint.
I shrieked, kicking the air and twisting wildly on the ground like a child throwing a temper-tantrum. But less than 30 seconds in, all I'd succeeded in doing was make myself even hornier. Dammit! I didn't want this! I forced myself to remain still and let my involuntary arousal subside.
I had never felt so angry. Nobody does this shit to me! I had quite a lot of experience with BDSM, but I was Always the one in charge! I was always the dominant one! Whoever was responsible for this shit would pay dearly. But even as I promised myself the prospect of revenge, I recognized the flaw in my plan. If I were being honest with myself, than the only person responsible for this mess... was me. I stole the security pass, I posed as the Irish woman named Jodie, I decided to play along and go to the Inn. My stomach dropped as I came to the painful realization that this was Entirely my own fault. I forced back tears. This was not the time to cry. I needed to think. I needed a plan. I heaved a long sigh, willing myself to regain my composure.
It was at this moment that I noticed a green light about 20 yards ahead of me. I straightened up and squinted into the distance. The green light appeared to be attached to a tree. I shifted onto my knees and carefully began the process of standing up. Having lost the mobility of my arms, this proved to be a fairly difficult task. I cursed the damned Ben Wa balls lodged in my ass as I felt my legs quiver and shake. I dug my toes into the soft dirt helping to keep my balance. I shakily began walking toward the green light. Each step caused the tiniest of jingles as a metal D-ring
I tepidly approached the light source until I came to stand in front of it. What I saw both confused and disturbed me... Strapped around the trunk of a tree roughly 3 feet off the ground, was a metallic box with a bright green light at the top. But what perplexed me most about this box was the giant black dildo that protruded outward from the middle. "ah huck?" I mused out loud. I inched closer, perplexed about what it was and why such an object would ever exist.
Just then, I heard a loud shriek from behind me. I spun around in fear to see a slender African American woman racing toward me. She wore the same hood, chastity belt, ring-gag, and armbinder as I was wearing. She kept looking over her shoulder as if she was running from something. She looked terrified. Concerned for the woman, I jogged toward her. But as we got closer, I realized that something was off. The woman wasn't slowing down. Before I could contemplate what she was doing, the woman lunged into me, body-slamming me to the ground.
WHAT THE FUCK?! I cried out in agony and curled into the fetal position, reeling in pain. With the wind knocked out of me, I remained curled up on the ground gasping for air.
But things only got stranger from there. Because then, the lady scrambled to her feet and raced over to the box strapped to the tree. Still reeling on the ground, I watched her kneel in front of it. Then, she proceeded to take the dildo into her ring-gagged mouth! I titled my head upright to make sure I wasn't imagining things. What the fuck was she doing? The lady continued to accept the dildo until it was entirely submerged in her mouth.
But once the base of the rubber dildo made contact with her ring-gag, something bizarre happened. The green light on the box suddenly turned off. I heard her collar sound with the same electronic that mine had made earlier. Then, almost as a switch had been flipped, the armbinder straps crisscrossing her chest unlocked themselves and slid off of her shoulders. The lady twisted around until the armbinder fell onto the ground.
I stared up at her in a mixture of shock and hatred as I realized what had just happened. The dildo was some sort of unlocking device! And she tackled me to stop me from getting to it first! That could have been me! Had I given the tree a blowjob before her, I could've been rid of this armbinder! What a BITCH! I hollered over at her, furious by what had just transpired. To think that I was running towards her out of CONCERN! I glared at her from the dirt and continued hollering at her as she stood to her feet and stretched her liberated arms. On each of her wrists was a black leather cuff that matched the ones we wore on our ankles.
She quickly unbuckled her ring-gag from behind and pulled off her latex hood. Once she was free, she doubled over, panting with her hands on her knees. Her chastity belt was now the only item of clothing that she wore.
"Sweet Christmas," the lady said between breaths. She glanced over at me smiling. "I didn't think I was gonna beat you to it. But I'm sure glad I did."
She straightened up, and arched her back, groaning in relief. She was strikingly beautiful. She had light black skin, long slender legs, and breasts on the smaller size. She could have easily been a model. Without the hood, her hair puffed out into a proper afro.
"Shit," she mused, "I heard the armbinders were new this year, but those are brutal. Last years' didn't keep your elbows pressed so tightly together. Hope you're more flexible than I am."
I screamed at her through my gag and tossed my head from side to side in rage. She picked up her armbinder off the ground and walked over to me. Kneeling down, she leaned over me, with her face close to mine.
"A natural redhead?" she asked. "You're gonna be trouble, I can tell."
I scowled up at her in bewilderment, but she didn't seem to notice or care.
"Aren't I the lucky duck? Finding an unlocking station AND a hot little piece of ass in the first 10 minutes of the hunt! It's shaping up to be good season, indeed."
She straightened up and walked around me. I shouted nonsense at her as I felt her fidgeting with my collar.
"Up we get, little lady," she said.
Suddenly, I felt myself being tugged up to my feet by my collar. I spun around to see the lady tugging the leather strap that used to be attached to her armbinder.
"Ah oo eerius?!" I shrieked. She leashed me?! OH HELL NO! I stood to my feet and yanked my head away, only to feel the collar dig painfully into my neck. I felt the woman tug me back toward her, pulling me off-balance. I was still wobbly from the body-slam (not to mention the Ben Wa butt-plug jingling merely inside of my ass), but I managed to find my center of gravity and turned to face my captor. I continued hollering unintelligible obscenities until the lady yanked me close and shoved her hand over my mouth.
"Enough of that," she said.
I scowled at her and continued shouting into her hand. She grabbed my nipple and twisted it hard. I did my very best to hide my pain, but I could feel my tear-ducts becoming active.
"I said enough," she whispered authoritatively. "Now, I know you're upset. But you need to calm the fuck down. There are hunters crawling everywhere in these woods. If you cooperate, I can get us out of here. Trust me- your next 3 months'll be much more tolerable with me than with one of these bastards."
I stared at her in shock. Did she say 3 months?! What the hell did that mean?!
"Be quiet and do as Mistress Tasha says, or I'll feed you to the first man I see," she said condescendingly.
Just then, I heard another foghorn sound in the distance. Tasha looked up to the sky, listening intently. "Well, that didn't take long. First capture of the day. One hunter less for us to worry about."
I felt my eyes swelling with tears, as they often did when I found myself getting overwhelmed. This was too much for me to process. We were being hunted? And they're keeping us for 3 months?! What had I gotten myself into? I struggled in vein to maintain my composure and strong demeanor. The woman who called herself 'Mistress Tasha" must have taken notice of my emotional distress.
"Oh, sweetie- I get it," She said empathetically, "Nothing prepares you for the moment you lose your freedom. I went through the whole 99 stages of grief last year. I'm not a submissive woman. At all. So my 3 months were pretty tough, to say the least. But the paycheck makes it all worth it. I promise. If you stick with me, I promise your time here will be a breeze. Well-" Tasha's eyes flicked upward in contemplation, reconsidering her words. "-maybe not a breeze, but considerably less windy than the hurricane you'd weather if you ended up with a hunter. Just keep your eye on the prize, Red. It's all a bit easier when you focus on the paycheck. Just focus on all those zeros."
Suddenly, Tasha stuck her hand up in the air, stopping in her tracks. She'd heard something. I strained my ears, and glanced frantically around the forest. The damn hood made it hard for me to hear anything. Tasha squatted low to the ground behind some brush, tugging me down with her by the leash. Unable to rely on my ears, I followed Tasha's gaze to see another naked, arm-bound, and hooded woman sprinting through the trees in the distance. Moments later, I let out an involuntary gasp as I saw her legs give out. She fell face-forward to the ground with a scream. The sound that followed made my heart sink deep in my chest. The sound of male voices laughing and cheering echoed through the trees. I watched in horror as the woman tried to stand back up again, only to fall back onto the ground.
"Uth hong wit her?" I whispered.
Tasha flexed her hand, silently ordering me to be quiet. Just then, two men, one slender, one fat, walked up to the woman on the ground. They were both holding what looked like rifles!
"Id ay hoot er?!" I whispered again. Tasha spun her head to glare at me and mouthed for me to shush.
The woman screamed as the fat man lifted her to her feet. Holding her by the armbinder, he spun her around, inspecting her naked form. They both taunted her as she wobbled around, struggling to maintain her balance. Then, the fat man placed his hand on the woman's head and pushed her downward. The woman shook her head and shouted muffled pleas through her ring-gag. Smiling, he pressed the tip of his rifle against her neck. The woman appeared to hesitate, weighing her options. Then, with a sigh of defeat, the woman willingly dropped to her knees. The rifles couldn't possibly be real, I thought. Perhaps they were like laser-tag guns or something. When a woman got shot, maybe she'd get shocked the way I'd gotten shocked earlier. Electricity simultaneously pelting us from the collar and butt-plug. I couldn't blame any woman for choosing to comply under those circumstances.
But then, I watched in horror as the man unbuckled his trousers and stepped up to the poor woman's face. "Ut da huck," I breathed quietly.
"That's how they confirm the capture," Tasha whispered, breaking her silence. "Each hunter's wearing a cock ring that's embedded with a silicone chip. Once it makes contact with her ring gag or the ring over her pussy, it sends a IR signal to the collar, registering the capture."
No sooner had Tasha spoken the words, the man's cock became fully submerged inside the woman's gagged mouth. Once fully submerged, red lights started to blink in sequence around the woman's collar. A fog horn sounded in the distance, causing the other man to cheer.
"Poor girl," Tasha mused quietly as we watched the woman get face-fucked. "I can tell you from experience- there's nothin' quite worse than being captured by a middle-aged fat guy. Luckily, mine ran out of money in week 5 and ended up selling me to Antoine." Tasha's voice suddenly became more sultry, almost as if reliving a steamy memory. "Now, Antoine... mmm... Antoine was more my type."
I turned to her with my eyebrow cocked. She caught my expression and chuckled quietly.
"Don't judge," she countered, "You'll learn to appreciate the good things just as I did."
After about a minute, the fat guy gave a loud groan and stepped back from the woman's face. She slouched over with her head bowed. Most likely in humiliation than submission. The man pulled up his pants and refastened his belt. He knelt down in front of the woman and cupped her chin in her hand, making her look into his eyes. I couldn't see the woman's face, but I could tell from her demeanor that she'd lost the will to fight. The fat man appeared to speak to her for a few about a minute and then stood to his feet.
Then, as if nothing happened, the two men simply turned and walked away. I watched in confusion as the woman remained still on her knees staring down at the ground. Her collar continued blinking bright red as the men disappeared into the trees. I glanced back and forth from the woman to Tasha. Why wasn't the lady moving?
"Ai ethent thee hoovig?" I repeated out loud.
Tasha glanced over at me annoyed. "Did you read any part of your contract?"
I shook my head babbled angrily through my gag, hopelessly trying to convey that I'd never received any fucking contract.
"Silence," Tasha said, holding up her index finger. I sighed in frustration. "If she moves more than 3 feet from her current position, her collar and butt-plug give her the electric treatment. The GPS trackers in our collars make sure we don't try to run off after we're captured. They also make sure we don't get lost in the woods. Come 24 hours, if any women have managed to avoid capture or haven't successfully freed themselves, gamesmen will come collect them and bring them back to the park. Those women will be transferred to the auction house."
"Awkhon hau?!" I replied in shock.
"Oh trust me," Tasha explained, "-the auction house is definitely preferential to being captured. Getting sold at auction means that you earn 10% of your sale price. I saw one girl last year go for 4.5 million. Imagine 10% of that getting tagged on your contracted salary."
I stared in horror as I listened to Tasha's words. Why the fuck would anyone willingly sign up for this shit?!
"This whole clueless routine of yours is adorable, Red," Tasha said, chuckling. "But the community theater act isn't working on me. Playing ignorant just makes me more excited to start your training."
Training? I didn't even want to think about what she meant by that.
Just then, I nearly jumped out of my skin as I heard twigs snap behind us. I spun around in my crouched position to see three men with reflective orange vests walking casually toward us. I screamed in panic and scrambled to my feet. But I instantly felt myself get yanked back down by my collar.
"Relax, crazy," Tasha said, "They're not here for us. They're gamesmen." Terrified, I glanced back and forth between the men and Tasha. "They're here to collect her," Tasha nodded toward the woman kneeling up ahead.
The men walked by us, each glancing down and smiling dickishly. I heard one of them whistle down at us.
"Morning slaves," he said.
"Fuck you," Tasha replied.
It dawned on me that if it weren't for the fact that she was holding me hostage, Tasha seemed like someone I'd get along pretty well with. The three men chuckled and walked past us toward the woman kneeling in the clearing.
"Might as well wait here for a bit," Tasha mumbled. "The safest place to be is a recent capture site. Hunters never think to sweep the area after a capture. What are the odds another woman would be nearby?"
We waited in our huddled position behind the brush as the gamesmen approached the kneeling woman. I saw the one of them take out a smartphone of sorts and hold it against the woman's collar. Suddenly, the blinking red lights on her collar changed from blinking to solid red. Then, the man pulled off his backpack and took out what looked like a leash. After he clipped it to the woman's collar, he pulled up to her feet, and began leading her and his goons back towards us in the direction they came.
"Alright," Tasha said quietly. "Time to move."
I felt a light tug on my collar, signaling me to stand to my feet. This leash business was definitely getting old. But in comparison to what I saw that other girl go through, I realized I definitely had the better end of the deal. Eventually, the goal would be to escape from Tasha. But for now, I had to try to convince her that we were in this together. So, I dutifully followed my "mistress's" lead.
We walked in silence for what felt like an hour. My feet ached from stepping on the harsh forest terrain. Ever other minute or so, we heard another foghorn sounding through the trees. Sometimes, the there were multiple foghorns in a row. The number of captures had to be in the 70's by now.
Tasha was slightly taller than me, so I had to take longer strides to keep up. Which was difficult in the tall grass we suddenly found ourselves wading through. The Ben Wa butt-plug was driving me crazy! Aside from the fact that my asshole felt chaffed from being made to walk with it in my ass, the unwanted stimulation was downright infuriating. Distracting as fuck, but not intense enough to bring me to climax. The result was an endless state of undesired arousal that never seemed to subside. And to make matters worse, it appeared to be affecting me far more than Tasha. Every couple minutes, I needed to stop and bend over, pressing my knees together to stabilize myself and stop the balls from vibrating. Tasha would always wait a few moments to let me regain my composure, but then I'd feel a gentle tug on my collar.
"C'mon, Red," she'd encourage me. "We gotta keep movin'."
I followed her instructions and trudged along. The pain from having my jaw locked open was also becoming more than I could handle. It felt almost as if my jaw was numb and on fire at the same time.
"Gad oo tak hy gag aw?" I asked. Tasha ignored me. "Atha," I said louder. Tasha turned to look at me, "Gad oo tak hy gag aw?"
Tasha shook her head sympathetically. "Sorry Red," she replied. "If you get caught without your gag, hunters would know I'm nearby."
"Ut? Oww?!" I asked.
"Think about it," she shot back, "You can't unbuckle your own gag. Not without the use of your hands. And it's impossible for your hands to be freed without an unlocking station. And seeing as no hunter would ever remove your gag and set you free without claiming you, the only explanation left would be that another contestant, me, found you and unbuckled your gag for you. If you got captured without a gag, they'd know I was nearby and would proceed to scouring the area in search of me."
"Or huck thake, Atha!" I shouted at her, "I gant heel hy awl!"
Tasha tugged on the leash, making the collar dig into the back of my neck. "First off," she growled, "-it's Mistress Tasha. The sooner you start addressing me properly, the easier your training will be." I could feel my face flushing with anger. I was never going to call this bitch Mistress.
"And believe it or not," she continued, "-your jaw will stop hurting once it finally goes entirely numb. Trust me. I'm a returning contestant. I'd know."
I stamped my foot in anger and leaned backward away from the leash. "Uck oooo!!" I shouted.
Tasha turned abruptly, grabbing my nipple harshly. Her pleasant demeanor had turned angry and for the first time, I could see fire in her eyes. "Raise your voice like that again, and I'll make sure-"
But before she could finish, I suddenly felt pain like I'd never experienced before. Jolts of electricity pelted my neck and anus simultaneously. I screamed in agony and fell to the ground, twitching. I instinctively curled into a fetal position on the ground, still trembling from the pain. Tasha dropped to the ground next to me. She didn't appear to have been shot.
"Stay completely still," she whispered in my ear. "Trust me. Do not move a muscle."
I panted and sputtered in my fetal position as Tasha scurried away, keeping low beneath the tall grass. After a few seconds, she was gone. That Bitch! For a split second, I thought maybe she was interested in actually helping me! Of course she was only interested in saving her own ass! I rolled onto my back, staring up into the sky. My neck and ass still ached from the electricity that had pelted me only moments earlier. Then I heard the voices. Male voices echoed across the clearing.
"Two in one!"
"Did we get 'em both?!"
"Damn straight. 1 black and 1 redhead"
I held my breath, praying silently that they got lost in the tall weeds. But moments later, I saw a man with a buzzed haircut, dressed in camouflage walk into my field of vision. He appeared to be in his mid-30's and had the look of a navy seal.
"Daaaaamn," he said stepping over to me. "That's an affirmative on the redhead." A moment later, he was joined by a second man. An African American man with similar build and attire.
He whistled as he scanned my body with his eyes. "Where's your friend, baby girl?" I glared up at him in silence. He smirked and began scanning the area. "She can't have gotten far."
No sooner did he finish the sentence, however, I heard rustling from behind them. The white guy suddenly shouted out in pain, dropping his electric rifle to the ground and falling to his knees. The black guy spun around, only to be roundhouse kicked in the face by a slender naked black foot. The white guy frantically reached for his electric rifle but I saw Tasha dive, tuck and roll, snatching it away from his grasp. With lightning speed, I saw her raise the gun and hit him square in the temple with the blunt side.
Just then, Tasha recoiled in pain, dropping the gun and twitching as she fell on her side. My eyes darted over to the black guy who was aiming his rifle squarely at Tasha. He stood to his feet and stepped over her, with his back to me, frantically unbuckling his pants with one hand. The other hand held the gun pointed at Tasha. Tasha continued twitching and spasming on the ground. The fucker was holding down the trigger. Shaking his trousers to the ground, he dropped to his knees, poised to claim his victim from behind.
I'm not sure if it was adrenaline or courage, but I suddenly found myself standing on my feet and running straight at him. It happened so quickly, that I shocked even myself. My knee collided hard with the side of his face and I tripped over him, landing ungracefully in the tall grass. I frantically twisted around to see if he was still conscious. I looked up just in time to see Tasha's heel land firmly on the base of his neck causing him to slump over silently next to his friend.
My heard was beating out of my chest. We'd just taken down the both of them! Two petite, unarmed women, one of whom was bound and gagged had just overpowered two navy seal-type men with guns! Tasha took no time to gloat. She jumped to her feet, lifted me by the torso, and started printing into the trees, leash in hand. I had no trouble keeping up now, given the adrenaline that was pumping through my veins.
We continued sprinting through the forest for what felt like 10 minutes. Both of us seemed to be on the same page. Get as far away from those two as fast as humanly possible. The worse possible scenario for either of us would be getting running into those assholes again. I shuttered to imagine what payback would look like. Each time we heard a foghorn, we seemed to pick up speed. We continued running until approached a stream.
Tasha jumped down the bank, splashing into the water. Not wanting the leash to give me whiplash, I joined her in the water which came up to just below my knees. The ice-cold water felt glorious against my raw bare feet. I hadn't realized until that moment how many scrapes and cuts I'd accumulated during our hike. Still panting, Tasha ducked beneath what looked like a small cliff on the side of the creek-bed. Tree roots provided shelter from at least one of the sides.
"In here," she panted. I joined her beneath the cliff and stooped low behind the tree roots. "Let's rest here for a little while." I didn't argue. I couldn't ever remember running that fast for that long. A rest break was very necessary.
We remained in the creek until we'd both stopped panting. Tasha passed the time by cupping the water with her hands and drinking. I glared at her jealously, knowing that drinking would prove far more difficult for me. Tasha looked up at me between drinks and nodded down to the water.
"Better hydrate, red," she said.
"Ow?" I shot back snarkily.
Tasha shrugged. "Okay. Don't hydrate. Your call."
I rolled my eyes. Fuck her and her free hands. I was gonna have to lap up the water like a fucking dog. A dog suffering from lock-jaw. I gingerly knelt down in the water and bent my head forward. I looked toward Tasha, silently hoping that somewhere in there was a woman who cared enough about me to help. After a few seconds, I gave up hoping and tried to hydrate on my own. After some trial and error, I found that my tongue was useless. I had more luck just dipping my entire chin underwater and letting the water flow in.
After a few minutes, I felt Tasha tug on my leash again. She stood up and stepped upstream of me. "Go ahead and use the bathroom and then we'll move out," she said.
Now she was telling me when to go to the bathroom? The nerve of this bitch! Every ounce of me wanted to fight til the death. But I kept promising myself that it was only temporary. There was no point taking a stand against this bitch in my current state. I'd have to wait until the odds were stacked more in my favor. I decided to take her up on her advice and pee. After a few seconds, I straightened up and stepped over toward Tasha.
"Alright," she said, "let's keep moving."
I followed her to the creek bank and climbed back onto dry ground. I winced as my sore feet returned once more to the rough forest terrain. As we headed deeper and deeper into the forest, I couldn't help thinking that we were starting to walk in circles. Everything was starting to look the same and for the first time, I began to feel grateful that there were GPS trackers embedded in our collars. Without them, there's a strong chance that the both of us would end up dying out here.
"Sweet Christmas," Tasha mused under her breath, stopping dead in her tracks.
I stopped as well, fearing the worst. But as I followed Tasha's gaze, I was able to make out a glimmer of green light shining through the trees. While an unlocking station was certainly preferable to a hunter, it meant beginning my three months of slavery to Tasha. Three months of god only knows what... Whether I liked it or not, the time had finally come for me to make a move...
I briefly weighed the pros and cons of running away full speed and screaming at the top of my lungs. Would Tasha risk chasing a shrieking woman in the opposite direction of an unlocking station? Or would she simply sprint to the unlocking station, free herself, and then proceed to come hunt me down? She'd already proven to be incredibly fit. With the combination of her athleticism and my current state, I feared that recapturing me would be only too easy for her. My only hope was to figure out a way to get to the unlocking station first... My next decisions were crucial. I had to think. I had to come up with a plan...
Tasha began to jog toward the green light, pulling me along with her by the leash. With each stride, I could feel my window of opportunity growing smaller. If I was going to make a move, it had to be now... Scanning the terrain, desperate for inspiration, I spotted a boulder just up ahead, protruding out from the ground. If I managed to steer Tasha close enough to that boulder, I could try tripping her into it. Maybe- just maybe- there was a chance of Tasha hitting her head and knocking herself out. It was a long shot, but it was the only plan I could come up with on the spot. So I put the plan into play.
With all the subtlety I could muster, I started to veer to my left, applying pressure to my leash. To my pleasant surprise, Tasha seemed to follow my pull and run at a slight angle toward the boulder. My heart skipped, suddenly feeling more confident in my plan. This could possibly work! I felt Tasha applying more and more resistance to my leash. But with each stride, I managed to pull us closer in the direction of the bolder. I mentally prepared myself for the fast-approaching moment when I would have to trip my mistress.
12 feet, 9 feet, 6 feet. It was now or never. I held my breath and made my move. Sprinting up behind Tasha, I landed a swift, hard kick to the side of her left knee. Tasha screamed in agony, toppling forward and flying head-first into the boulder. Everything happened too fast to comprehend. Tasha instinctively let go of my leash and tried to catch her fall by extending out her arms. But she was falling to quickly and didn't have enough time to keep herself from colliding into the bolder. It looked like her head made contact, but it was difficult to tell. Unable to slow my momentum, I leapt over her, maintaining my speed. I had no idea if Tasha was okay, but I couldn't afford to look back to check. My freedom depended on making it to that unlocking station first. Nothing else mattered.
Digging deep, I sprinted with all of my might toward the tree trunk that harbored the green light. Sheer adrenaline drove me forward. I don't think I'd ever been more exhausted. I'd always been fit, but I wouldn't ever have considered myself an athlete. I certainly wasn't a runner. But in this instance, I'm sure I could have fooled anyone. The stakes couldn't have possibly been higher.
Less than 15 feet away, I could see the rubber dildo protruding from the tree. I was almost there! But my heart suddenly dropped as I felt my foot catch on a tree root beneath me. I tripped, falling face first to the ground, tumbling and flipping ungracefully across the dirt. I shrieked in pain and frustration as I scrambled to get up, but as I said earlier, this was not the easiest task for someone who was wearing an armbinder. A few seconds later, I planted my feet beneath me and stood up. I willed myself forward once more as I heard the flutter of footsteps rapidly approaching from behind me.
Less than a few yards from the tree, I suddenly felt two strong arms wrap around my waist and tackle me to the ground. I screamed, thrashing and kicking frantically. This wasn't happening! This wasn't happening! I shrieked helplessly and rolled over to see Tasha's bloody face looking down at me. Her lip appearing to be busted and was dripping red blood. She scrambled up to straddle my torso and glared down at me.
"Not smart, Red!" she spat, yanking my leash harshly. "Not smart at all. You have no idea how much worse your life just got. Get up, slut!"
She stood up and pulled the leash upright. I started to sob. This wasn't happening! I was so close! I was only yards away from the unlocking station! How could I have tripped?! How could I have been so clumsy?! I was so CLOSE!! The waterworks finally kicked in and I started to bawl.
"Shut up!" Tasha yelled as she stepped up to the tree, positioning herself in front of the dildo. "I have no sympathy for your stupid ass. You deserve every bit of what's in store for you."
Tasha inched closer to the angled dildo, spreading her labia with her free hand. Then, she gently lowered herself. I watched helplessly as my new mistress impaled herself upon the final key to her freedom...
But then, something unexpected happened. Just as Tasha's clit hit the base of the dildo, her collar began to blink red. Both of our gazes shot up to the sky as the sound of a loud fog horn echoed through the trees. Tasha's face turned puzzled and focused her eyes on the metal box in front of her. The bulb continued to shine green.
"What the fuck?" she said to herself. She stood up straight and began trying to unlatch her chastity belt. Nothing budged. She glanced back and forth from the belt to the metal box. "What the FUCK?!"
Just then, her gaze lowered to the dildo that she'd just climbed off of. Her eyes narrowed and she squatted down to take a closer look. I inched closer to do the same. Reaching forward, Tasha lifted from the base of the dildo what appeared to be a black cock-ring...
"No..." Tasha said in disbelief, "No..." Tasha straightened up, fear spreading across her face. "Bullshit. This is BULLSHIT!"
I stared at the cock-ring in her hand, still trying to grasp what was happening. Tasha spun around, shrieking at no one in particular.
"This is CHEATING!! HUNTERS CAN'T BOOBY-TRAP UNLOCKING STATIONS! THAT'S FUCKING CHEATING!!!"
My eyes opened wide as I finally understood what had happened. Some hunter had apparently planted his cock-ring around the dildo so that when a woman found it, she'd essentially capture herself for him...
It was actually kinda brilliant. Sick and twisted as fuck, but brilliant, nonetheless. Whoever had thought of this this had accurately predicted that the woman who found it would never think to pause and inspect the unlocking station before using it. She'd just eagerly hop on, no questions asked.
"THIS ISN'T FAIR!" Tasha continued screaming to no one in particular, "I'M NOT ACCEPTING THIS SHIT! YOU HEAR ME?! I DON'T ACCEPT-" Tasha was suddenly cut short by what appeared to be electricity coursing through her neck and anus. She collapsed to the ground, twitching uncontrollably. Her GPS chip had detected her travelling outside of her 3-foot perimeter.
My heart suddenly jumped out of my chest. This was my chance! The moment I needed! Pouncing forward, I dropped to my knees, and thrust my head downward towards the, now cock-ring-less dildo. I quickly gulped down the ribbed rubber dildo, tasting the recently deposited sweat of Tasha's pussy. The shaft was longer than I had originally realized and my gag reflex kicked in just as my ring-gag made contact with the dildo's base.
Suddenly, the green light on the box turned off and I heard a chime sound from my collar own collar. My heart leapt with joy as I felt mechanical clicking from behind my shoulders. The straps crisscrossing my chest sprang free, relieving the strain on my shoulders. My armbinder was unlocked! I scrambled to my feet and began hopping up and down, like a weirdo. Within a few seconds, the armbinder fell to the ground. FUCK it felt good to be able to move my arms again!
But I didn't waist time to stretch. I immediately started fidgeting with the buckle that secured my ring-gag. A few seconds later, the gag fell to the ground and I groaned in relief. I was able to close my mouth for the first time all day! I eased my mouth closed slowly, wincing as my jaw settled back into its natural state!
Next, was the hood. I frantically pulled it off, yanking strands of my own hair along with it. Tossing it to the ground, I took a deep breath of free air.
"Aaaaaahh!" I shouted triumphantly. My hands and mouth were finally FREE! I arched my back and stretched my arms out in front of me, working my jaw open and closed. I honestly never knew I could feel so fortunate to have basic motor functions again!
Tasha was kneeling on the ground to my left, her back facing me, staring down at the dirt. She was visibly defeated.
"Which one fell for the trap?" I heard a voice call out from behind me.
I spun around in fear to see three orange vested men walking casually towards us from about 50 meters away. Shit, that was fast! I squinted towards them, noticing that they were the same three gamesmen we'd seen earlier. I answered their question by pointing down at Tasha. I fought the urge to cover up my naked breasts as they approached. The tallest guy laughed, looking down at Tasha.
"What a stupid slut," he chuckled. Then he looked over at me and asked, "That has to feel good, huh? The bitch carts you around the jungle all day as her prisoner and then she ends up capturing herself. Karma never tasted so sweet."
One of the shorter gamesmen walked up behind Tasha and grabbed her by the afro. She yelped as he yanked her head backwards.
"Remind us what you said earlier, slut?" he asked. "Fuck you, was it?"
Just then, Tasha spun around and sucker punched the guy right in the crotch. He fell to his knees letting out a loud groan. Jumping to her feet, Tasha raised her leg into the air, winding up for another roundhouse kick. But the tall gamesman was ready. With his electronic pistol at his hip, he aimed it squarely at Tasha's chest and pulled the trigger. Once again, she fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, twitching from head to toe.
The third gamesman dropped to his knees, pulling a silver padlock out of his pocket. Within seconds, the gamesman forced Tasha's wrists behind her back and fed the padlock through the D-rings in her each wrist-cuff, locking them together. The tall gamesman bent down and tapped his smartphone against Tasha's collar. The collar suddenly emitted a chime and changed from red blinking lights to a solid red light.
"Welcome to slavery... Tasha Quincy" he said, looking down at the screen of his phone. "For the next 3 months, your ass is the property of... oh damn!" he said, looking up at his cohorts. "Take a look," he said, holding out his phone so the other two men could see.
"Old man Murphy?!" one of them exclaimed. The three of them began to laugh.
"Looks like Murphy's found his fucking-machine model for the season," the man said joyfully.
Tasha had stopped twitching and rolled onto her back panting, glaring up to the sky. "Fuck," she whispered, breathlessly.
"You're a returning contestant, right? You've heard of Tom Murphy?" one of the gamesmen asked here.
Tasha ignored his probing, keeping her gaze straight upward towards the clouds.
The gamesman continued, "Racist old geezer who builds fucking machines. Sells and rents them here every year. And each year, one lucky bitch gets the job of demonstrating those beauties at his shop. All day, everyday."
"This isn't fair!" Tasha shouted pointlessly. "He can't fucking booby-trap an unlocking station! It's cheating!!"
"It's genius, if you ask me," one of the shorter gamesman replied.
The other gamesman reached into his backpack and removed a leather leash, tossing it over to the tall guy. He caught the leash and clipped it to Tasha's collar, prompting her turn her face away in disgust.
"I'll tell you what," he told Tasha, "When we deliver you, I'll let you air out your grievances to your orientation instructor. I'm sure they'll enjoy hearing your thoughts on the matter. Fair enough?"
"No, it's not fucking fair!" Tasha retorted. "It's bullshit!"
The tall guy chuckled, pulling the leash upward. Tasha was awkwardly pulled to her feet.
"Please don't do this," she said, now in a softer tone. "You said yourself- Murphy's a racist. You know what he'll do to me."
"Not my problem, slut," the gamesman replied.
"Heartless bastard," Tasha spat. The men simply chuckled in reply.
"Look," Tasha continued, leaning back away from the leash. "Void this capture and I'll split my earnings with all of you. 1 million, four ways. We each get 250 grand." The men replied with laughter. "I'm serious!" Tasha pleaded. "Tell me your names and I'll cut you a check as soon as we get back to the Kingdom. This time tomorrow, you'll have more than a year's salary."
They changed Nott's Faire's to The Kingdom? What a cliché fuckin' name.
The tall gamesman looked at the other two. "Interesting proposition," he replied to Tasha. "I've got a better one." Then he looked over at me. Nodding down to my ring-gag lying on the ground at my feet, he asked, "Do you mind if I borrow that?"
"Oh," I replied in surprise, "Not at all." I picked up the gag and tossed it over to him. "She can have this as well," I offered pointing toward the armbinder on the ground behind me. A grin spread across the gamesman's face.
"How generous of you," he replied. He whistled over to his partners, nodding at the armbinder. The one closest quickly snatched it up, and advanced upon Tasha. The tall gamesman grabbed Tasha's arms and forced her elbows together behind her back.
"You bitch." Tasha spat at me. "Enjoy this. It'll be the last ounce of power you hammph- ulk lalph!"
The gamesman had shoved the ring-gag in her mouth from behind. Tasha twisted, trying to free herself from the men's grasp, but to no avail. Within seconds, the ring-gag had been buckled tightly behind her head and the three men were forcing her zip-tied hands into my old armbinder. Her head flailed from side to side as the armbinder slid upwards. Her back became arched as the sheath forced her elbows together. This caused Tasha's breasts to be thrust outward, highlighting her curves magnificently. The gamesmen fed the straps over her shoulders, cris-crossed them over her chest, and then finally underneath her underarms where they clicked to the backside of the armbinder. Returned to her former glory, there stood slave Tasha. Ring-gagged, collared, arm-bound, and chastity belted. Conquered and supremely disgruntled, wearing a scowl that could kill.
"Alright, slut," the tall gamesman said, landing a loud smack to Tasha's ass. She turned toward him, her eyes narrowing to slits. "Time to move." He raised his walkie and spoke into it. "Tanner to base. Contestant 134 in hand. Heading to checkpoint 12."
He began walking back the way he came, giving Tasha's leash a tug. She let out an audible grunt and followed his lead. The two other gamesmen followed silently behind her.
"Hey-" called after them. "Seeing as I loaned you my gag and armbinder... what are my chances of you pointing me in the direction of the nearest active unlocking station?" I asked.
The men all stopped and turned to face me. The tall one hesitated, his face contemplative. After a few seconds, he smiled and answered, "You know, out of the 3 years that I've worked here, I've never seen an contestant get quite so close to winning her freedom as this bitch did." He nodded toward Tasha. "But she attacked my coworker. And she called me a heartless bastard. I, personally, believe behavior like that needs to be punished. Given the reality that we're gamesmen and none of us are permitted to do her any harm, I think it would be poetic her former prisoner... yourself, to do it for us." He turned to look at Tasha. "What do you think, slut?" he asked. "Think you'd like to see your former slave win her freedom so she can stop by the shop to pay you from time to time?" She glared back at him, silently. He yanked her leash once more, making Tasha holler in anger. He chuckled dickishly. "She agrees," he said, prompting laughter from his cohorts.
"So, here's what I'll do," he continued, pulling out his smartphone again and studying it. After a few seconds, he looked back up and stared into the distance. "I'm going to point southeast from here," He raised his hand and pointed over my left shoulder, "-in return for your word that you'll make special trips to visit this slut at her new home once you're a free woman."
"Deal," I replied without hesitation. I was willing to say whatever was necessary to win my freedom. I needed out of this nightmare. And for the first time today, escape seemed to actually be a possibility.
"Good girl," he replied. "So, walk southeast from here for about a half a mile and you'll see the last remaining unlocking station. If you're still walking after 7 minutes, then you've gone too far."
"Thank you," I answered as I began to run in the direction he pointed.
"I'd slow your roll, though!" he called after me. "Runners are 10 times easier to spot than walkers."
I sighed, slowing down to a walk. "Thank you," I called back politely. But the prospect of delaying my freedom was infuriating. My feet and entire body ached, my head still throbbed, and my anus continued to tingle from its humming intruder. But I would have gladly sprint through it all in order to be free of this nightmare. But apparently, the only way out was by slow motion... It was beyond maddening.
I tried to remain calm as I walked patiently through the trees. I breathed softly, trying to listen as best I could to the sounds around me. The slightest crunch of leaves or bird call would send me into a state of panic. I would crouch low to the ground and remain still until I was certain that the sounds were nonthreatening. At this rate, my 7 minute hike was going to take 15. I needed to hurry. The longer I waited to make my move, the more time I had to be captured. And the more time there was for another woman to find and steal the last remaining unlocking station. I couldn't let that happen. I had to move.
So, against the advice given to me by the gamesmen, I began to run. I started at a light jog. But once my adrenaline started to pump, I found myself pushing faster and faster. I couldn't help thinking that this was now or never. I was at the homestretch. My eyes darted frantically in search of the green light. I ran flat-out for what felt like a solid minute.
And then, I saw it... A green light flickering through the trees ahead of me. My heart did a summersault in my chest as I squinted into the distance. My eyes were definitely not playing tricks on me. There was a green light ahead! I tore ahead at full sprint. The light grew brighter at brighter with each stride. This was it! I was mere moments away from freedom!
But then, my heart suddenly dropped as I saw the light flicker. I skidded to a stop, straining my eyes to see what was happening. Someone was there! I ducked behind the nearest tree and peeked my head out. I saw a person's silhouette passing in front of the light again, making it appear to flicker. It was a man dressed in camouflage holding an electric rifle. Panting for breath, I stood still and watched from my hiding spot. The man slowly circled the unlocking station, scanning the woods in all directions. I was roughly a hundred yards away, but fortunately, the man had been looking in the opposite direction as I was sprinting toward him. Another couple of steps, and he most certainly would have heard me.
"Dammit," I cursed under my breath. There was no telling how long I'd be forced to wait here until this asshole finally decided to move on. I spun around and leaned my back against the tree trunk. The sunlight was beginning to grow more orange, telling me that it must be getting later in the afternoon.
I wracked my brain, trying to figure out a way how to get to the unlocking station without being seen. He was too close! My only hope was to try inching my way there by ducking behind trees every few steps. And once I was close enough, I could try to make a sprint for the dildo attached to the tree. It seemed like a terrible plan, but it was all I could come up with. Once he was facing the other direction, I'd start. A few seconds later, he rounded the tree to face away from me. I made my move.
Holding my breath, I tiptoed from my hiding spot toward the closest tree. Once I got there, I ducked down behind it and exhaled quietly. My heard was pounding out of my chest. I couldn't ever remember ever feeling more afraid. The tiniest mistake would land me in sexual slavery for the next 3 months. My stomach felt sick at the mere thought of what I'd have in store for me if I failed...
I peeked out from behind the tree. The man was still turned away from me but now had his rifle raised. It looked like he'd spotted something. I took the opportunity to tip-toe to the next tree. I felt like I was living out a perverted version of Zelda, sneaking through a maze, trying to avoid being seen by Gannon's henchmen.
I waited here a few seconds before peeking out from my hiding place again. But just then, I heard the man's voice shout, "Hey!" I dropped as low as I could. Had he seen me? Who was he shouting at? I heard the faint sound of running footsteps in the direction of the unlocking station. But after a few seconds, the sound stopped. The forest was silent. It took me a few seconds to work up the courage to peek my head out again. The man was nowhere to be seen. I scanned the forest, searching for any signs of movement. Nothing. Where was he?! I stood back up, weighing my options.
But no sooner did I stand to my feet, I realized that I was not alone. To my left, I saw a short, petite naked woman tearing through the trees toward the unlocking station. Her chastity belt, armbinder, gag, and hood were all still secured in place, but they didn't seem to be affecting her speed. She was quick! Instinctively, I leapt from my hiding spot, and sprinted for the unlocking station as well. The girl was closer than I was, but with the use of my arms, I could feel myself gaining on her with each stride. Ignoring the pain in my raw feet, I sprinted ahead with all my might. I had to make it there first. I had to.
But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw more movement. I glanced to my right to see another naked woman running in the same direction. She seemed to be about my height, but was muscular with great big breasts that bounced with each powerful stride. She too was still hooded, gagged, belted, and arm-bound. She, too, was fast! This was gonna be an all-out race to the finish! The three of us had all been waiting for the right moment to make our move. We were all about the same distance from the unlocking station now. As far as I could see, there was still no sign of the man who had been pacing around the tree. My guess was that he'd run off after someone he'd seen in the distance.
We were all about 15 feet away from the green light now. With every last ounce of energy, I sprinted for the black rubber dildo. But then, my heart dropped as I saw the man who'd been pacing step forward from behind the wide tree trunk. He wore a smug smile and had his rifle raised toward us. The three of us skidded to a halt. The petite short girl shrieked and toppled over, falling face-first into the dirt. The man stood there, rifle raised, with his eyes darting between the three of us.
"Welcome, ladies." he said smugly. "Well, That worked out better than I could have imagined! 3 at once! Anyone else out there want to join us?!"
The petite girl to my left struggled to stand to her feet.
"Ah-ah-ah," the man said, turning his electric rifle toward her. "Kneel," he told the girl. "You two-" he said to us, "-come over and join her."
We hesitantly walked over next to her.
"On your knees," he said.
We knelt down next to the short girl. I trembled as I lowered myself to the ground, partly from exhaustion, but mostly from fear. This was it. The end of the line... The man stepped closer, keeping his rifle pointed at us. He was a relatively good looking Asian man with a slender but athletic build.
"Well aren't you three a sight for sore eyes," he said. "I never imagined that I'd get the opportunity to pick my slave from a line-up! Damn, if only I'd paid for the Platinum package, I could've kept all three of you!"
He knelt down in front of me, gazing into my eyes. "I guess I'll just have to settle for one," he said to me smiling. "Is that your natural hair color?" I looked down at the ground. "Eyes up," he said, cupping my chin with his hand. "I asked- is that your natural hair color?" He asked again. I nodded silently. "Gorgeous," he replied. "Off to a great start. Let's check out contestant number 2."
It crossed my mind for a split second to try to snatch the rifle from his hand. But then, I realized the gun would be useless against him. Nothing would happen if I managed to shoot him with it. He wasn't wearing a shock collar or butt plug.
"Do me a favor, Red," he said, standing up straight and taking a few steps backward, "Take off wonder woman's gag and hood, here." He nodded to the busty muscular girl to my right.
I turned and began unbuckling the woman's gag. We were all still panting from our race to the unlocking station. The woman groaned as the ring-gag was pulled out of her mouth.
"Fuck," she whispered, exercising her jaw.
I then pulled off her hood. Even with her face being flushed and her blonde hair matted from the hood, I could see that she was stunningly gorgeous. She looked to be about my age and could easily have made her living as a supermodel. She looked up at the man, with an icy stare.
"Daaamn," the man said smiling. "Both braun and beauty." He knelt down to be eye-level with the woman, cupping her chin in his hand. "And what looks to be the perfect amount of attitude." Without blinking or reacting, she continued staring straight into his eyes. The man chuckled. "Breaking a bitch like you is every man's dream." He patted the woman roughly on the side of face, causing her nostrils to flare ever-so-subtly in anger.
"It's a close call, so far," The man said as he stood up once more. "Red, if you would be so kind as to reveal our last contestant."
I turned to my left and unbuckled the short girl's gag. I could feel her trembling beneath my fingers as I removed the gag and began peeling the hood off of her head. She was a pretty Asian girl and looked like she couldn't have been older than 20. Then again, I'd always been terrible at deciphering the age of people from different races.
"Hot damn," the man whispered. The poor girl now sounded like she was starting to hyperventilate and was visibly shaking in fear.
"Hey, now," The man said softly, kneeling down to her. "You don't need to be afraid. Not of me, anyway." A tear streamed down the woman's face as she stared at the ground. The man inched closer.
"I know it must be scary, but I promise- I'm not going to hurt you." He said, raising his hand to wipe the tear from her cheek. "What's your name?"
The girl whispered what sounded like "ooo".
The man leaned in closer yet. "What was that, love?" he asked.
And then it happened. Catching all 3 of us off-guard, the little Asian girl shot her head forward, head-butting the man square in the nose. He shouted in agony and reeled backwards. With lightning speed, the girl swung her leg around and swept behind his knees, bringing him down hard to the ground.
As he fell, he pulled the trigger of his electric rifle, which happened to be aimed squarely at the busty blonde to my right. She shrieked and began twitching and convulsing uncontrollably.
Somehow, the spry Asian girl was already on her feet and starting to leap over the hunter in the direction of the unlocking station. Without thinking, I reached forward and grabbed onto her right ankle. I gripped her ankle tightly as she was in mid-leap causing her to fall forward, right on top of the man she'd taken down. She screamed and the man grunted in pain as she fell on square on his stomach region. As thankful as I may have been for the role she played in attacking my enemy, I needed to get to the unlocking station first. Nothing else mattered!
As I scrambled to my feet, I could see the hunter wrestling with the Asian girl. Without the use of her arms, the girl was left only with the option of kicking and flailing her feet. The man appeared to overpower her relatively easily. But I wasn't watching, because I'd now gotten to my feet and was sprinting once more toward the black dildo attached to the tree trunk. A few strides later, I was standing over it and lowering myself down. Once I felt the dildo make contact with my pussy lips, I allowed gravity to pull me down all the way.
Once fully submerged, I suddenly heard the glorious sound of a chime coming from my collar. The metallic clasp beneath my navel suddenly unlocked and the leather straps sprang off of my chastity belt. As I stood up straight, I held the belt put with my hand. I gasped as the Ben Wa ball slid past my sphincter and out of my anus. It wasn't huge, but definitely big enough to make me feel more "stretched out" than usual. But none of that seemed to matter a whole lot, because once I stepped away from the tree, it suddenly hit me- I was free! FREE! This nightmare was finally over!
I looked up to see that the hunter was now straddling the Asian girl who was lying face down in the dirt. They were both grunting and the man's nose was dripping with blood. Despite the girl's struggles, he'd managed to unbuckle and pull down his pants. His rock-hard cock was now positioned mere inches away from the poor girl's vagina.
"No!" I screamed, leaping forward to help. But it was too late. The man plunged into her through the metal ring in her chastity belt. Without pause, her collar began blinking red and a loud horn sounded through the trees. She was his. And she knew it. Instantly, she stopped struggling and kicking and laid still in the dirt. Nothing could be done to help her now.
"Fuck!" the man yelled, pulling out and standing to his feet. "Dammit!" He wiped blood from his upper lip and raised his chin high into the air, seemingly trying to stop the bleeding. "I swear to god if you broke my nose- Oww!" He staggered around, pulling a small rag from his back pocket and placing it up to his nose. "You have no idea how badly you're going to pay for that!" The girl ignored him as she continued panting in the dirt.
Just then, I heard voices from behind me. I spun around to see 2 figures running towards us. I nearly jumped out of my skin, temporarily forgetting that I was now safe. One of them had their rifle raised toward me and appeared to be pulling the trigger. But to my relief, nothing was happening. I realized that my shock collar must have been disabled once I freed myself. But what about the blonde girl?
I spin back towards her, having completely forgotten about her existence. But she was now right next to me, hiding behind the shelter of the tree with the dildo.
"Capture me!" she whispered urgently to me. I cocked my head in confusion.
"What?" I whispered back.
"Quick- do it before they do!" She stepped in even closer "Tap your wrist-band against my collar! Do it now!" she whispered.
I hesitated for a moment too long, prompting the woman to groan in impatience and bend over suddenly to press her neck against my leather wrist-cuff. Her collar began flashing red lights and another fog horn sounded in the distance. There must have been a sensor in each of my wrist-cuffs. The technical advances being employed for this shindig were insane!
Just then, the two strangers approached. One of the people was an obese man, seemingly in his 50's, and the other was a thin, striking brunette, with olive skin, seemingly in her early 30's. The man hunched over, holding his rifle in one hand and supporting his weight with his other hand on his knee. The two of them looked around at the group of us. 3 naked women, one of whom was still laying motionless in the dirt, and a Asian man staggering around looking up at the sky, trying to stop his nose-bleed.
"Looks like we missed the party." the brunette said coyly. She crossed her arms in front of her, revealing the fact that she wasn't armed with a rifle. "Ugh, she freed herself. That explains why your gun didn't work," she said to the man.
Still panting heavily, the fat guy looked me up and down. "Fuckin' A!" he growled. "Forgive my French. The wife and I were hoping to find a redhead. Figures you'd be off the market." I stared back at him, perplexed. The two of them were married? The woman was insanely out of his league. She was fit, young, and exotic looking. He was fat, old, and out of shape. It had to be a gold-digger, trophy-wife scenario.
"Take the blonde then," the brunette said, motioning toward her.
"She's- actually mine," I said awkwardly. "I caught her."
The 2 of them stared blankly at us. "Bullshit," the woman said. "Shoot her, Jay."
"No!" I said loudly, stepping between them as the fat man raised his rifle.
But just then, I heard what sounded like a loud whistle. I turned my head toward the sound and saw 3 gamesman in orange vests jogging toward us. The one in front continued blowing his whistle.
"Cease and desist!" he shouted.
I glanced back at the husband and wife hunters who took several steps back, obviously bewildered by what was happening. I remained still, unsure of who the gamesman was actually speaking to.
A few seconds later, the gamesmen had reached our group. One of them stepped between us and the hunter couple. The other two went over to the Asian girl and her captor. "I'm sorry folks," he said calmly to the hunter couple. "-but these slaves are all out of play."
"What?" The husband hunter asked in confusion.
"Well, the slave over here-" the gamesman explained, nodding toward the Asian on the ground, "-has already been claimed." Then, he turned to me. "And this woman just earned her freedom and is now in possession of this slave."
"What?!" the hunter wife spat. "She can't capture anyone! She's a slave!"
"Former slave, actually," the gamesman replied. "The rules permit freed contestants to hunt for their own slaves if they choose to do so. Her capture was legitimate, I assure you."
The man pulled out his smartphone and held it to my collar, triggering a chime to sound. After a few mechanical clicks, I felt the straps encompassing my neck, wrists, and ankles all loosen at once. I pulled the collar off over my head and shook the cuffs off onto the ground. The gamesman collected them and tossed them in his bag. The feeling of the crisp breeze against my chaffed skin was glorious.
"Dammit!" the fat guy shouted, spinning around in frustration. "We're never going to catch anyone!"
Next, the gamesman pressed his smart-phone to the blonde's collar, making it change from blinking red to solid red.
"This is bullshit!" the wife hunter sneered, stepping forward. "We're paying customers!" The gamesman ignored her and walked over to the blonde woman. "Are you telling me that all these sluts have to do is tap someone's collar and we're out of luck?"
"Cry me river, bitch," the blonde woman behind me chimed in. "You were too late. Get over it." The brunette turned and scowled at the blonde, visibly shocked by the sass she was receiving. The blonde girl continued, "And judging by the collar around your own neck, it would appear that you're not actually a paying customer. Your husband is."
The brunette woman opened her mouth but hesitated to respond. I looked closer at the woman's neck. The blonde was right. Beneath the brunette woman's layers, I could see that she was indeed wearing a collar. She quickly adjusted her shirt to try and hide it.
"My guess," the blonde woman continued, "-is that hubby brought you along as insurance. If he can't find a woman to capture before midnight, he'll be forced to go with plan B. Turn his skank trophy wife into his helpless sex slave for the next 3 months. Am I warm?" The brunette continued to glare silently at the blonde.
"I'd move along, slave," the blonde continued. "He doesn't look like he's gonna last much longer." She nodded toward the brunette's husband who was now sitting on the ground, wiping sweat off of his brow with a rag. "On the plus side, I'll bet big money that the two of you'll win this year's costume contest as slave Leia and Jabba the Hut."
I snorted in laughter from that last one. Even the gamesman next to me seemed to be having difficulty concealing his amusement. No longer able to handle the antagonizing, the brunette abruptly turned and stormed over to her husband.
"C'mon, babe. We've gotta keep moving."
The fat man, seemingly oblivious to the entire conversation started the laborious process of standing to his feet. His wife attempted to help him, but he waved her off, prompting her to wait patiently by his side until he was upright again.
"Happy hunting," the blonde woman called after them as they walked away. The brunette turned back, flashing a middle finger at her. The blonde cackled with laughter.
"Here are some clothes, miss," the gamesman behind me said. I turned to see him holding out a grey and black jumpsuit to me as well as a pair of stretchy shoes.
"Oh," I replied. "Thanks." I snatched them from his hands and began putting them on without hesitation. I would have loved a bra and panties, but I supposed beggars couldn't be choosers in a situation like this.
"Got any clothes for me?" the blonde asked the gamesman sarcastically. He ignored her, zipping up his bag and swinging it back over his shoulder. This girl seemed like a handful. She then turned to me and said, "Welp, it looks you own me for the next couple of months. Thanks for taking me off the market."
"Don't mention it," I replied dryly as I hopped on one foot to put my shoes on. Once fully clothed, I tossed my hair back and tied it into a ponytail.
"I'm Brandy," the blonde woman said. "I'd shake your hand, but, well, you know."
I looked over to her and gave her a half-smile. "I'm Ali," I replied.
Just then, the gamesman who handed me my clothes, turned back to me. I caught his eye and could see that he looked confused.
"Your name's Ali?" He asked. I stared back at him, unsure why he was asking. Did he recognize me or something?
"When I scanned your collar, it said your name was Jodie," he said, suspiciously.
Shit! I forgot I was supposed to be Jodie from Ireland! Think, Ali!
"I'm... trying to keep my identity as private as I possible," I replied in my best Irish accent. "The last thing I want is some freak showing up on my doorstep in Dublin."
"Ah," the gamesman said, "My mistake, ma'am." He then turned to Brandy and clipped a leash to the D-ring on her collar.
"Dublin? Dublin, Ireland?" Brandy replied excitedly. "No kidding! I did an exchange program there in high school. My host family lived in Portobello. Which part of the city are you from?"
Ugh, seriously, Brandy? "Uh, just north of that," I replied off the top of my head.
"Sooo, around Broadstone?" Brandy asked. Just then, her head was yanked to the side by the gamesman holding her leash.
"Are you braindead?" the gamesman asked. "She just said she didn't want to share personal details." Brandy shot him a glare at him and then turned back to me.
"Sorry," she said quietly.
"Sorry, what?" the gamesman pressed, aggressively. "You belong to her now, slave. Sorry, what?"
She looked down at the ground and replied, "Sorry, mistress." I could see that she was blushing. I couldn't tell whether it was in rage or humiliation.
Eager to move past the awkwardness, I turned and looked back towards the Asian girl behind me. The other two gamesmen had gotten the Asian girl leashed and on her feet. The Asian hunter now had cotton balls shoved up each of his nostrils. It was hard to stop myself from grinning at the sight of him. But I had a feeling that the more humiliated he felt, the harsher he'd take it out on his new slave. So, I suppressed my grin and forced myself to look away.
"So, where do we go now?" I asked the gamesmen.
"Now, we head back to the Kingdom," the gamesman closest to me answered. "You and Mr. Chei will be free to check into your quarters and your slaves will stay behind for orientation."
He then lifted his walkie-talkie and spoke into it. "Gordon to base. We have contestants 21, 237, and 94 in hand. On our way to checkpoint 9." He then, placed the walkie-talkie back in its hip holster. "Alright, folks- let's head in." Leashes in had, the gamesmen began walking toward the setting sun. The group of us followed their lead.
It all felt so surreal. After everything, it was still hard to wrap my head around all that had transpired. My simple attempt to investigate the Renaissance fairegrounds during the off-season had landed me smack-dab in the middle of a paid sex-slave hunting retreat for the world's most perverted affluent. After half a day of wandering naked through the forest, I'd finally won my freedom by impaling myself on a series of electronic rubber dildos mounted to trees. And along with freeing myself, I'd somehow managed to promote myself from "slave" to "slave owner". My stomach churned. I had zero interest in being a slave owner! The mere existence of such a retreat like this made me sick to my stomach. Becoming a willing participant in the perversion was downright unthinkable. I wanted no more part in it. As soon as I got back to Notts', or the Kingdom, or whatever the hell they called it now, I'd be gone. I'd march straight out the gate.
Uncle Henry would be rolling in his grave if he knew that any of this was happening to his beloved faire. I felt tears welling up in my eyes and a knot forming deep in my throat. I'd kept my cool up to this point, but now, it seemed, my emotions were finally beginning to get the better of me. It had been a long and trying day. One that I couldn't have anticipated in my wildest dreams. But I made it through. I'd conquered this nightmare. It was over. I cleared my throat and blinked the tears out of my eyes. With any luck, in less than an hour from now, I'd be back home soaking in a long hot shower. One hour. I could maintain my composure for one more hour. Keep it together, Ali, I told myself. One more hour and all of this will be over. Against all odds, however, fate would somehow figure out a way to persuade me into staying...
Chapter 3 - Train of Thought
We walked in silence for about a mile until we reached a large clearing. By now, the sun had nearly set. One of the gamesmen raised his walkie-talkie and spoke into it, "Gordon to base- be advised, team is approaching checkpoint 9. Prepare for entry" Then, the man placed the walkie back into his hip holster.
Just then, I heard a loud, high-pitched beeping noise up ahead. It almost sounded like the sound a golf-cart makes when put in reverse. Then, I saw it. A large metal cylinder roughly 12 feet in diameter began rising out of the ground in the middle of the clearing. I stopped in my tracks, unsure of what I was looking at. It continued to ascend until it was about 12 feet into the air. Then the beeping stopped. The gamesmen and rest of the group appeared completely unfazed and continued walking towards the structure. Just another stroll in the woods.
As we approached, I saw what looked like the outline of a door as well as an electronic keypad of sorts. One of the gamesmen lifted his smartphone to the lock, triggering a green light to blink. Just then, a wide door slid open revealing an empty circular chamber. The gamesmen led the way inside and everyone followed in behind them. Everyone except for me.
"What is this?" I asked, nervously.
Everyone turned to face me. "Just an elevator, ma'am," The gamesman replied. "It'll take us down to the tunnels. From there, it's a straight shot to the Kingdom." He must have seen the uncertainty written on my face, because he followed by saying, "It's safe, I promise."
While I had difficulty trusting anything that any of these people had to say, I definitely didn't want to be left in the woods by myself and risk being spotted by any more sexually depraved hunters. So, I stepped inside the circular room. As soon as I was clear of the door, one of the gamesmen pressed a button on the wall. The large metal door began sliding shut behind me. The room was lit by bright LED lights on the walls and ceiling. When I reached the middle of the room, I turned to face the door as it sealed shut. I heard a hydraulic hiss from beneath my feet and felt the elevator begin to descend. My stomach churned, causing me to close my eyes. I'd always been a lightweight when it came to motion sickness. But after about 10 seconds, the elevator came to a stop and the door slid back open.
On the other side of the door was what looked like a small subway station. Four guards dressed in black stood in front of a sleek silver subway car roughly 25 feet in length. Attached to the back of the car was what looked like an open-air cargo caboose with a sort of crane attached to the rear. The gamesmen stepped past me toward the subway car, pulling the leashed women along with them. The Asian hunter and I followed behind. As we approached the subway car, I saw what looked like a line of metal crates to the left. Brandy was first to reach them. One of the guards standing by the crates raised a smartphone and tapped Brandy's collar. The straps of her armbinder suddenly sprang free and dropped to the ground. Another guard grabbed ahold of the tip of her armbinder and tugged it off of her. Brandy gasped in relief as her arms were finally freed from her dreadful restraint. She may have still sported the black wrist and ankle cuffs, but for a moment, she certainly seemed to be soaking in her temporary freedom. With her eyes closed, she groaned blissfully as she rolled her shoulders backwards and forwards. She stretched and flexed her toned arms in every direction until the guards stepped behind her and once again forced her hands behind her back. To Brandy's right, the guards repeated the steps to the Asian girl. With her eyes still closed, Brandy seemed to go quietly as her wrist-cuffs were secured together by a silver padlock.
Then, one of the guard gripped her by the upper arm and leading her toward the metal crate. Brandy had obviously done this before because without instruction, she hoisted her leg over the side of the metal crate and stepped inside. The Asian girl did the same, stepping into the second crate.
"Kneel," the guard said, emotionless." Both girls obediently knelt down and placed their knees into what looked like padded foam cradles that kept their bent legs in a spread position. The guards then anchored each of their ankle-cuffs to hooks on the floor of the crate with padlocks.
Then, a guard placed his hand on the back of Brandy's head and pushed her downward. Her torso was bent so low to the ground that her large breasts bulged against metal base of the crate. The same was done to the Asian girl, but her smaller breasts hovered an inch or so above the floor. The guards then lifted Brandy's secured wrists into the air and slid a metal bar through a ring the side of the crate. The bar was fed horizontally across Brandy's back, beneath her elbows. Once the bar passed through the ring on the other side of the crate, I heard a loud metallic click. The guard gave the bar a rattle, demonstrating that it was now secured in place.
Next, he guard grabbed a valve that was beneath the ring he'd fed the bar through and gave it a few turns clockwise. The horizontal bar suddenly began to rise upward, bringing Brandy's elbows along with it. I heard her grunt in discomfort as her elbows raised nearly a foot in the air. When he stopped turning the valve, Brandy was now trapped in a low groveling position with her knees spread and her wrists dangling in a strappado position behind her. In this position, her muscular shoulders looked even more uncomfortable than they looked to be in the armbinder! Then, the guard began closing a solid metal lid, hinged to the side of the crate. With a final click, the human cage was now complete.
But the guard wasn't done yet. Walking to the front of her crate, he squatted down by her face and began fidgeting with another metal bar. I stepped closer, curious to see what they were doing. Upon getting a loser look, my stomach dropped. Attached to this metal bar was a rubber dildo. The bar appeared to slide up and down along a vertical track in the crate. Brandy's guard raised it upward until the dildo was positioned directly in front of her face. He tightened a knob on the side of the vertical track, locking the dildo at the desired height.
"C'mon," I said. "Is this really necessary?" The guard ignored me, grabbing a hold of Brandy's blonde hair and tugging her head upward to face him.
"No," Brandy replied for him. "It's really nommmph." Without warning, the guard had pushed the bar forward, sliding the dildo straight into Brandy's half-open mouth. Her reply was cut short as the dildo forced it's way past her front teeth. Once it was roughly 4 inches submerged, the guard let go of Brandy's hair. With the dildo now trapped in her mouth, her head remained upright, locked in a craned, forward facing position. She growled at the guard and bore her teeth, which were now clamped firmly down around the rubber dildo. The guard ignored her attempts at resistance and proceeded to tighten the knob positioned at the base of the dildo bar. I guess this prevented the dildo from sliding out of her mouth.
I looked over to the Asian girl who had gotten the same exact treatment from her guard. I shook my head in disgust. This was ridiculous! Talk about overkill! But no sooner did the word "overkill" cross my mind, the guards began making their way around to the backs of each crate.
"More?!" I asked, incredulously as they knelt down. They began fidgeting with what looked like another metal bar located directly behind each woman's pussy. "Oh for fuck's sake-" I said.
Another guard walked up to me, holding a briefcase with 3 different-sized dildos. I glanced back and forth from the dildos and him in confusion.
"So, what'll it be?" He asked me. "Would you like her to have small, medium, or large dildo?"
"What?" I asked, in shock. "How about no dildo?"
"Sorry, ma'am. Rules require all slaves wear one for transportation," he replied patiently.
"Yeah, she's already wearing one," I replied defiantly. "In her mouth."
"If you refuse to pick, the large-sized dildo is considered standard." the guard replied, matter-of-factly. I heard Brandy squeal and mmph frantically. She squirmed as best as she could, presumably to convince me to save her from the largest dildo.
"So, which will it be?" the guard pressed. I could feel my face growing flush. This was a special kind of twisted. What the kind of sick fucks came up with this shit?!
"Small," I spat, turning away. Brandy gave a small sigh of relief. I didn't want to watch. I loathed the idea that I was essentially becoming complicit in this perversion.
"My slave'll take a large," the Asian hunter, looking down at his own slave. I glared over at him, fighting the urge to walk over and hit him in the nose again. I saw the Asian girl take a deep breath and close her eyes, almost as if to mentally prepare herself.
"Large, it is," the guard said, picking up a large dildo. He wore a rubber glove on one hand which he used to coat the dildo in some kind of lubricant. Once finished, he handed the dildo to the guard kneeling by the Asian girl's pussy who proceeded to screw it onto the end of the metal bar. Then, he pushed the bar forward. I heard the Asian girl exhale slowly. Her whole body seemed to tense and her toes curled as the dildo made its way through the metal ring in her chastity belt and into her pussy. Once it looked to be fully submerged, the guard tightened the knob at the base of the bar, locking the dildo home.
The Asian hunter knelt down inches from the girl's face. "What do you say?" he asked.
With her eyes still closed, the girl softly replied, "Ahnk oh heh," My jaw nearly dropped. Did she just say 'thank you, sir?' There's no way in hell that she was actually enjoying this! No. She must have been doing what she thought she needed to in order to save herself from worse to come. There's no way a person could actually want any of this. Right?
"Alright," one of the guards said, "All aboard! Master, Mistress- please find a seat inside and make yourself comfortable." I looked up as the door to the subway car slid open. Padded seats lined the walls of the subway car, facing inward. To my left stood several vertical support bars. To my right, was a buffet table of sorts with a variety of finger foods and drinks.
"And please go ahead and help yourself to some snacks and refreshments," the guard added.
I stepped inside and headed straight for the buffet table. I hadn't eaten all day and was famished. I must have looked like a starving Ethiopian child as I shoveled food onto a small plastic plate. Moments later, I was seated and tearing into my mini-mountain of chicken nuggets, sliders, and pigs in a blanket. The Asian man made himself a plate and sat in the seat across from me. I didn't care how glutinous I looked. After finishing my plate and downing my bottled water, I went back up for seconds. I piled another plate high with food and returned to my seat.
Turning to my right, I could see that the back wall was actually a large Plexiglas window that allowed you to see into the open-air caboose. I could see the guards talking outside the door, but the subway car must have been sound-proofed, because I could no longer hear anything outside. I watched one of the guards walk over to the side of the caboose where a control panel was located. I leaned over to try to see what he was doing. Suddenly, the crane on the back of the caboose began to move. It looked like the guard was controlling the crane with some sort of joystick. I continued eating as I watched the arm of the crane swing outward. On the underside of the end of the arm was a large metal disc of sorts. When the disc came to hover above Brandy's crate, the arm descended, lowering the disc until it came to rest upon the lid of the crate
The disc must have been magnetically charged, because moments later, the entire crate was lifted into the air. The crane's arm rotated horizontally, bringing Brandy's crate toward the subway car. Moments later, she was slowly lowered onto the floor of the open-air caboose. Brandy stared straight ahead into the glass, her expression cold and expressionless.
It was then that I noticed the decals along the base of the Plexiglas window that read- ONE WAY MIRROR. We could see her, I realized, but she couldn't see us. The only thing she could see was her own reflection. I stared into Brandy's lifeless eyes, wondering what she must have been thinking.
"Your slave's godda be a tough cookie to break," the Asian hunter said, lounging back in his seat with his legs crossed. I turned to look at him. With the cotton balls still in his nose, his voice sounded stuffy and ridiculous.
"Shut the fuck up," I said with a mouth full of food, turning back toward Brandy.
"What are you so sour about?" He asked. "You just wod your freedob. You got a milliod dollar paycheck for rudding aroud daked id da woods for half a day. What gives?"
I ignored him as I finished my last bite, wiping my hands on my pants. Leaving my dirty plates where they were, I stood to my feet and crossed to the back of the subway car. Grabbing ahold of the vertical support pole in the middle of the room, I stared out through the one way mirror at Brandy. A few seconds later, the crane was lowering the Asian girl's crate next to Brandy's on the caboose. Her eyes were closed and she almost looked to be asleep.
A few moments later, the Asian man had creepily joined me in the back of the subway car.
"You're gonna need to step away from me," I warned coldly without looking at him.
He casually raised both hands in a surrender gesture and stepped away to grab the adjacent vertical bar to my left. We stood in silence, watching the guards busy themselves on the caboose, running black straps across the crates which secured them to the deck.
"I'b really dot a bad guy, ya doe," the man said.
"No, of course you're not," I replied dryly. "You're just a regular prince charming who enjoys capturing and raping women."
"Doe, dat's just it-" he replied, defensively. "I would't be here if dis was dodcodsedsual-" Frustrated by the sound of his stuffy voice, the man rolled his eyes and tugged the cotton balls out of his nostrils. "Ouch," he muttered under his breath. "Look- I'd never participate in any of this if the women weren't here by choice. It's a transaction. My enrollment fees go directly into your pockets. Most women earn enough money from this gig to straight-up retire once it's is all over. Others return each year because they enjoy it."
"So, that makes it okay, does it?" I asked, turning to face him. "Just so long as your victim gets compensated, you're justified in taking advantage of her and treating her like a piece of shit?"
The man suddenly pulled out a cell phone from his pocket and began tapping his screen. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat and read,
"June Singh, 21 years of age, 5'4", 113 lbs., 1st year. Personal notes- To my new Master- I so look forward to meeting and serving you. As you will quickly notice, I have quite the contrary spirit. I'm a fighter at heart and enjoy the role of resisting. But with a firm and steady hand, I have no doubt that you will quickly succeed in breaking me, body and mind. As difficult and challenging as my journey will be, I'm overcome with the excitement of being trained by someone who is truly superior to me. I look forward to you showing me why am now the luckiest girl in the world. Here's to 3 months of dreams coming true. Yours truly, June."
The man looked up at me from his phone. "She even put a heart emoji at the end," he added.
I shook my head in shock in disbelief, looking back out the window at the Asian girl named June. The guards were now finished securing the crates and were exiting the caboose. This was all beginning to feel like an episode of the Twilight Zone. Could this actually be a turn-on for these women? It was hard to fathom, but after listening to June's own words, it was difficult to rule out the possibility.
"Understand?" the Asian man asked. "Everyone is here voluntarily. Could some women be second-guessing their decision to enlist? Possibly. But I'm willing to bet that the vast majority are excited about the next 3 months. It's why so many come back every year. It's a paid sex vacation."
Just then, I heard a loud ding from over head, followed by a female voice. "The train will be departing momentarily. Please take your seat or grab ahold of a nearby railing." Moments later, I felt the car lurch forward and slowly accelerate in the direction opposite of the caboose.
"You wanna read your slave's profile?" the man asked. I hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. "What's her name?" he asked.
"Brandy," I replied. "And she's not my slave."
After a few seconds of tapping his phone, he replied, "Okay, there are a few Brandy's, but I think this one is yours."
He held out his phone to me and I took it from him. Staring up at me from the screen was Brandy's smiling photo. Beneath the picture was text that read-
Brandy Michaels:28 years of age
5'9"
139 lbs.
2nd year
Personal notes:
Well, golly gee. You caught me. I imagine you must be feeling pretty
proud of yourself at the moment. I recommend you take the next couple
of hours to bask in your victory. Because, it won't be long before you're
faced with the reality that you are Completely out of your league... As a
Dominatrix of 6 years, I can assure you that I will not be broken. I will
not be 'tamed'. Any attempts to do so will end in failure. Instead, set me
free and secure the collar around your own neck. The longer you take to
turn the reigns over to me, the harder life will be for you. I give you my
professional guarantee- I have the power to make your next 3 months a
living heaven or hell. Obey me and I'll give you satisfaction beyond
your wildest dreams. Refuse, and I'll ensure that you remember these
next 3 months as the single worst, most disappointing investment you've
ever made. So, congrats on your capture! See you after orientation J
-Mistress B
"Holy shit," I muttered under my breath.
Brandy ought to be thanking her lucky stars that I was the one to capture her. No guy in his right mind would take an offer like that. Not after putting up the fortune to have the opportunity capture and train his very own sex-slave. Brandy definitely misread her target audience. I shuddered to imagine what kind of misery she'd have had to endure if a horny alpha-male were reading this as her new master.
Beneath Brandy's personal notes, there were two red buttons. One read 'Pleasure' and the other said 'Pain'. I tapped the 'Pleasure' button, half-expecting some sort of fantasy checklist to pop up, outlining what Brandy found to be 'pleasurable'. Instead, the button turned from red to white and began to jiggle and bounce on the screen. Confused, I continued to stare at the screen.
"Woah," Eric laughed. "Someone's a bit triggered." I looked up at him and followed his gaze toward Brandy. Brandy wore a ferocious glare and was throwing what looked like a temper-tantrum in her crate. Her teeth were digging nearly a half-inch into the rubber dildo. If looks could actually kill, we'd all be dead for sure.
"Is she okay?" I asked. "Wait-" I stammered, holding the phone away from me. "Did I do that? I pressed this button- did I do something?"
Eric took the phone from me and looked at the screen. "Yeah," Eric chuckled. "You activated the vibrate function on her dildo. She doesn't seem to be enjoying it very much, though, does she?"
"I didn't know that's what the button did!" I said frantically. "How do you make it stop?"
"Don't worry, it'll stop after 30 seconds," he explained casually. "Hell, you're a lot nicer than I am. I've clicked 'pain' three times now."
I glanced over at June to see her demeanor. "What does pain do?" I asked nervously.
"Just gives her butt-plug some pecks of electricity at random intensities for 30 seconds. I saw her jump a few times but it didn't really seem to effect her much beyond that."
"So, anyone can just do this to anyone?" I asked, still in shock. "I mean, you can just look up anyone's profile and click on these buttons?"
"Only if they've already been captured."
"So, nobody can see my profile?" I asked.
"I'm pretty sure they can't," he replied. "Hold on- let me check. What's your name?"
"Jodie," I answered.
"Jodie, I'm Eric," he replied with a smile. "Sorry about meeting the way we did. You know- with me pulling a Negan and making you kneel down in the woods. What can I say, I'm a big Walking Dead fan."
Not eager to give him a pass, I ignored him. Brandy's vibrating dildo must have stopped vibrating because her tantrum had ceased. But she still wore a pouty face and appeared to be breathing heavily.
"No," he said after a long pause. "I'm not seeing your profile. So, it must be hidden, seeing as you were never captured."
All of this seemed way too advanced. It was hard to believe that minds were perverted enough to dream this up, let alone execute it. I looked back out the rear window at our slaves. The subway tunnel was well lit with fluorescent lighting, so there was clear visibility of the women. The subway car was now traveling at what felt like over 50 mph, causing the women's hair to flow and flutter behind them.
"Whaaaat?" Eric suddenly exclaimed out of nowhere, his eyebrows raised in glee as he stared at his phone. "No way!"
"What?" I asked.
"I've got three trade offers already!" Eric looked up at me, wide-eyed like a like a kid on Christmas morning.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"It means my slave is a bombshell and everyone wants her!" He continued grinning stupidly at his phone. "Once a hunter registers a capture, they can enter the marketplace. It's basically an online database of all captured slaves. Hunters can trade slaves with other hunters and venders. They can even buy additional slaves if they have the money." He looked down at his phone and began furiously typing. "Sorry fellas, you'll have to trade elsewhere."
"Are we allowed to set slaves free?" I asked.
"Uh- I actually don't think so," Eric replied, crinkling his brow in contemplation. "I mean, I suppose there's nothing to stop a hunter from treating their slave like she's free. But I think I remember reading that once a slave is registered, she has to remain under someone's custody for the rest of her stay."
"So... if I decided to leave, what would happen to her?" I asked, nodding toward Brandy.
"I think," Eric replied contemplatively, "-if a hunter leaves early, their slave goes up for auction. And if a slave were to somehow escape or... if a former slave like yourself decides to leave, you'd forfeit your paycheck. It's why they don't pay you until check out on the final day."
"And how do we get paid?" I asked.
"Damn, you really didn't pay close attention to your contract, did you?" he asked, chuckling. "Lucky for you, I'm a finance guy. So I read this part backwards and forwards. When you leave at the end of your three months, you'll sit down with one of the accountants and they'll set up an off-shore account for you. That way, the funds are untraceable. Also non-taxable. Just don't make the mistake of withdrawing all of it at once. The government'll be all over your ass."
"And does it have to be under my name?" I asked. "Or... can I list the account under someone else?"
Eric looked puzzled. "You planning on giving your million dollars to someone else?"
"I-" I stammered, not quite knowing how to answer. Should I tell Eric the truth? Could I trust him with the fact that I'm not Jodie O'Connell? That I found my way to this moment because I'd made the impulse decision to pretend to be Jodie for the purpose of trying to uncover what the Renaissance Faire was being used for during it's off-season? No. I needed to keep him in the dark.
"Well... my sister has a lot of money," I began, coming up with a story on the fly. "Me, not so much... I thought it might raise less suspicion to use her as an intermediary."
"Hmm... I guess that makes sense," Eric replied softly, seemingly still a bit skeptical.
Eager to move on, I continued, "So, what you're saying is- I'm stuck here for three months?"
"Only if you wanna keep your money." Eric replied with a half smile. "To be honest, I can think of worse ways of becoming a millionaire."
I stood in silence, contemplating my options. I really could use the money. Truth be told, I missed having money... And if I were being honest, I'd always enjoyed practicing BDSM in my personal life. I was all too familiar with role-playing and tying up my partners for a fun evening. But this was a 3-month investment of my life! These girls may have been expecting all of this to happen, but I wasn't. I wouldn't know the first thing about being a 24/7 domme. There was no way I could pull this off. Could I?
I stared out the window in contemplation. I couldn't believe that I was actually considering this. What was purely unthinkable just 15 minutes earlier had suddenly become shockingly tempting... One million dollars! For 3 months of bossing someone around. And that person I'd be bossing around actually signed up for this gig with the expectation of being bossed around... I felt like I could rationalize that... Lord knows I'd be easier on Brandy than someone who purchased her on auction! I'd be doing her a favor! And who cares if I turned out to be a lame, inexperienced domme? It's not like I needed to impress Brandy. My mind danced between pros and cons for the next several minutes. Eric was silently tapping away at his phone, allowing me time to gather my thoughts.
"What if I don't know much about being a domme?" I asked Eric. "Or... anything about being a domme?"
Eric looked up, smiling. "Hey, you can't possible be less prepared than I was last year. I didn't have a clue what I was doing. But after you take advantage of some of the classes and seminars they offer, you'll be a pro in no time. You drop your slave off at day-care while you go to class and you learn. Seriously, everything's free, so it's in your best interest to learn all you can. But honestly, the main thing is confidence. If you act like you know what you're doing, that's all that really matters."
I stared out the window, considering his advice. After about a minute of silence, I suddenly remembered how tired my legs were. Why the hell was I standing? I walked back over to my seat and sat down.
"How much longer til we get there?" I asked.
"Uh, I'm not sure. I'd say about 15, 20 minutes," Eric replied.
I leaned back in my seat and rested my head against the window behind me.
"I'm gonna take a nap," I said.
"Do it," Eric said in agreement. "I've gotta reply to some of these trade offers."
I closed my eyes. Somehow, despite the odds, I'd managed to make an acquaintance in Eric. Though I felt somewhat guilty for engaging with him, he really had proven to be a wealth of information. And he'd certainly given me a lot to think about...
But thinking would have to wait. Because after only a few seconds with my eyes closed, I could already feel myself drifting off. I desperately needed a power nap. Just 15-20 minutes of rest could be just what I needed. I shifted in my seat and lied down across the seats next to me, curling into a fetal. A few seconds later, I was out.
Chapter 4 - Storming the Castle
I awoke to the loud squeal of the subway car as we slowed down. I opened my eyes and squinted through the brightness. I groaned in pain as I straightened up into a seated position. Damn, my muscles were sore!
Eric must have laid his camouflage jacket across me while I slept because it slid to the ground as I sat upright. He was facing the opposite direction, staring out the window. I rubbed my eyes and followed his gaze toward the large, well-lit underground subway station we had entered. The platforms were bustling with male guards and hunters dressed in camouflage. Moments later, the train lurched to a full stop and the door slid open.
"Sleep well?" Eric asked, turning back to me.
"Ugh, not nearly long enough," I replied. I raised his jacket toward him. "Thanks."
"No problem," he replied, smiling, as he took his jacket back. "Well, Jodie" he said, "I must admit- we got off to a rocky start, but I've enjoyed meeting you."
"Same," I said awkwardly, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that Eric the woman-hunter had turned out to be kind of a sweetheart.
"I'm sure I'll see you around. We're staying at the West Inn, so don't be afraid to shout if you need anything." He extended his hand to me and I shook it with a half smile. He turned, tossed his jacket over his shoulder, and exited the subway car. "Remember," he called back to me, "-confidence!" Then he disappeared into the crowd.
I took a deep breath. Time to go. I still hadn't definitively decided what I was going to do. The stakes were irritatingly high. I couldn't make a decision like this right now! I needed more sleep.
I looked back out the rear window to see several guards removing the straps that secured the crates to the floor. The crane's arm was already in motion and hovering above the crates, ready to transport them off of the caboose.
I stepped off the car and looked around. The flow of traffic seemed to be moving to the right, so I followed in line. I had no idea where I was going.
"Excuse me," I said to the guard who was operating the joystick on the side of the caboose, "Um, I'm not sure where to go."
The guard continued operating the joy-stick without looking at me. "New arrivals can head up the stairs and check-in will be straight ahead," he replied. His tone was dull and monotonous, as if he'd already answered the same question a hundred times today.
"Thanks," I said. "And what about her?" The guard looked at me, confused as if he didn't understand the question. "Mine's the one on the left," I clarified, pointing to Brandy's crate.
"We'll take care of her, ma'am," he replied. "You'll be able to reconnect in the morning after she's completed orientation."
The disc on the underside of the crane's arm lowered onto Brandy's crate. Moments later, she was lifted into the air. I could see her fists and toes clench as the crate trembled upon lift-off. I imagine that any movement of the crate prompted the dildo to rattle inside her pussy. Must have been uncomfortable.
The crane carried Brandy's crate over to the platform on the opposite side of the subway tracks. My jaw suddenly dropped from the image I saw on the platform. Brandy's crate was carefully placed on a skid amongst nearly a dozen other crates that held naked women inside of them. I scanned up and down the platform to see what must have been nearly a hundred more crated women lined up back to back.
"Holy shit," I whispered in shock. A low murmur of muffled moans and occasional shouts filled the underground station. The sight of all these women restrained and packaged in this manner was downright nightmarish. That would have been me had I not freed myself... Moments later, June's crate was transported by crane to rest next to Brandy's on the skid.
"Excuse me ma'am," the guard said, snapping me out of my trance. I glanced back to him, unresponsive. "Excuse me, I need through" he repeated, raising his arm slightly in the attempt to get me to move out of his way.
"Oh, sorry," I replied, stepping to the side. He moved past and joined his fellow guards on the caboose collecting the straps that were now strewn across the floor.
I turned back to look at the crated women across the tracks. Most of the women appeared to be remaining still and waiting patiently for what was next to come. But a few of them definitely seemed to be putting up a struggle. I wondered if their feistiness was due to the 'Pleasure' and 'Pain' buttons being activated. I stood watching them for a few minutes, curious to see if their tantrums would subside. Surely enough, after about 30 seconds, each of the vocal and fussy girls would exhale deeply in relief and settle down to rest quietly inside their crate.
A few crates behind Brandy was a petite Hispanic woman who must've had a real bastard of an owner. Because, no sooner did I see her settle down from her 30 seconds of twitching and hollering, her eyes would shoot open again and she'd let out another loud muffled shriek into her dildo and she'd start the ritual over again. Putting two and two together, I was left to assume that her master had nothing better to do than to keep tapping her buttons every 30 seconds. I could see her muscles flexing, her toes clenching, and her slender fingers groping desperately at the air. Her entire body appeared to tremble and quiver. Whether she was receiving pain or pleasure, I couldn't be sure. But she was definitely getting something. And she was getting a lot of it... Poor chica.
I turned to head up the stairs as the guard instructed. My legs suddenly felt much weaker as I climbed the tall staircase. All this cutting-edge technology and they couldn't have invested in a freaking escalator? I moved to the right side so I could lean on the handrail as I ascended. After what felt like 5 minutes, I finally reached the top of the stairs. And once again, I had to keep my jaw from dropping from the sight before me.
In front of me was what looked like a huge, well-lit indoor park, complete with trees, shrubbery, and park benches. The vaulted concrete ceiling above had to be at least 100 feet high. In the center of the vast cavern stood a massive stone fountain. In the center was a large statue of a naked woman kneeling with her head bowed and her arms behind her back. Jets of water shot from the outer ring of the fountain onto the woman's head and neck. The water streamed down the curves of her body, giving the subtle imagery of a golden shower. Half a dozen men stood at the top of the stairs taking pictures with their cell phones. One man up ahead was even posing to give the impression that he was pissing out one of the jets of water while his buddy took his picture. Dozens of other men sat casually on park benches and the edge of the fountain, eating boxed lunches and typing on their laptops and phones.
The extravagant yet minimalistic design of the cavernous setting seemed like something that would've been approved by Steve Jobs, had he been asked to design the world's perviest high-end subway station. But, where the hell were we? There were no windows, so I assumed we were still underground. But were we beneath Notts'? Or were we somewhere else completely?
Far off to the right, there were what looked like several customer service kiosks lined with employees assisting male customers. Signs that read 'CHECK-IN' hung overhead. I made my way across the large cavern toward the nearest kiosk. As I got closer, I noticed that the entire customer service staff was female and all wore a uniform white blouse and grey vest. Each wore a burgundy choker around their neck with a name plate in the middle. Somehow, the sight of women standing upright without rubber dildos in their mouths gave me a sense of comfort.
However, that comfort was short-lived, because as I walked up to the desk, I noticed that each of the women had a pair of handcuffs securing their wrists in front of them.
"Welcome to the Kingdom!" a cute, curly-haired woman with glasses chirped at me. "Can I assist you with anything?" She was very petite and looked to be in her low 20's. The nameplate on her choker read 'Katie'.
"Uh- yeah. I was told I needed to go to check-in?" I replied. "I'm not quite sure what check-in means or what I'm checking into, but the sign says 'check-in', so here I am."
"Certainly," Katie replied. "What's your name?"
"Jodie O'Connell," I said in a low voice.
Katie's face suddenly lit up. "No way. The Jodie O'Connell?!" she asked giddily.
"Yyyep," I replied.
"Oh, wow! Jodie- I mean, Miss O'Connell- I'm- I'm so glad to meet you!" Katie opened her mouth to speak but words seemed to get lost in her excitement. "Congratulations! Oh my gosh- you're the first contestant to ever win her freedom! We're just- we're all so excited for you!"
"Uh, thanks," I said quietly, looking around, hoping that nobody was noticing the spectacle that this girl was making.
"When the notification popped up on my computer, I was like Eeeeek!" she squealed happily. "I mean- not really. I'd get in trouble if I were to actually scream like that. But I felt like it. You know?! Eeeek!"
"Yeah," I replied awkwardly, looking around. "I'm pretty pumped."
"I'd say!" Katie exclaimed.
Several men were now turning to look at us with confused expressions on their face. Great. Just what I needed as the only girl not wearing restraints. More attention...
"Katie!" I heard a deep male voice call from my left. Turning toward the voice, I saw a heavier-set man with a mustache speed walking toward smiling girl in front of me. "Why are we shouting?"
Katie's smile suddenly disappeared and her head bowed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, sir," she replied meekly.
The man looked at me apologetically, "Beg your pardon, ma'am. Katie's one of our most recent transfers to the concierge staff." He turned back to the girl named Katie. "I'll take it from here, Katie. Go wait for me in my office," he ordered.
"Yes, sir," Katie replied, looking like she was on the verge of tears.
"Actually," I interjected, "I'd like for Katie to finish helping me. I thought she was doing a wonderful job." The man stared at me in silence, almost as if he'd never been over-ruled by a woman before.
"As you wish," he said, abruptly turning and walking away. "Katie, please mind your volume," he added.
Katie's unhappy expression instantly turned into a giddy smile. "Thank you!" she mouthed. I gave her a little wink.
"So, oh my gosh," she whispered, "-you have no idea how much I appreciate that. I don't think I could handle being transferred back to entertainment."
"Entertainment?" I asked.
"Yeah, the entertainment department produces all the Kingdom's shows, concerts, music, dancing... mud-wrestling matches, you name it," Katie explained. "Depending on what the customers request, it can actually be a really tough gig. Great money, but physically exhausting. But this year, they had a record number of contestants and applicants, so they didn't need me! Instead, they gave me a concierge, slash maid job! Eeek! Sooo much better."
Katie sure knew how to talk. I feared that if I continued engaging her, I'd probably be here all night. So, I simply nodded in reply. It's a good thing that my migraine had disappeared because I'm not sure I could have handled Katie a few hours ago.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," Katie apologized. "Here I am- blabbing on about myself! Ugh! Let's get you checked in!" Katie began typing ferociously at her keyboard.
"Okay, Miss O'Connell," she said a few moments later, looking up from her computer screen. "You are all checked into the castle suit."
My eyebrows raised. I was quite familiar with the castle suit, as I was the person who'd conceived the idea. Years ago, I'd convinced Uncle Henry to renovate the back end the castle and turn it into a luxury suite. I'd gotten the idea from Disney after they began giving guests the opportunity to win a night's stay at Cinderella's castle. We ended up going way over-budget on the renovations, but it paid off tremendously. Turns out, there are a lot of people who are willing to pay top dollar to have a castle all to themselves for a night or long weekend.
"I get the castle suit for the whole three months?" I asked.
"Yeppers," Katie replied, grinning. "Oh, and cleaning services are included. So you don't have to worry about making your bed every morning."
Of all the reasons to be pleased by this news, the prospect of having someone else make my bed was definitely one of the least exciting. I would have chosen, perhaps, to sell the prospect having a heated indoor/outdoor pool that extended from the living room to the veranda, a giant 48-jet Jacuzzi, a sauna, a walk-in shower, a king-sized memory foam mattress, or two 60" 4K flat-screen tv's... Like I said- we went a bit over-budget. But our wealthy patrons proved that they were willing to pay top-dollar to stay in a place like that for a night. We were able to make our investment back within the first year.
"I imagine there'll be a lot of disappointed men when they realize that they can't bid on the suite this year," Katie said, smiling. "It's always been the highest paid item at the grand auction."
"How much did it go for last year?" I asked
"Oh gosh- I think it went for something like 7 million," Katie replied.
"Holy shit," I replied loudly, going weak in the knees. "So wait- if I decided to put it up for auction, would I be able to keep those winnings?"
"Of course," Katie replied. "But- only in credit, I'm afraid."
"Credit?" I asked. "What does that mean?"
"So, credit is like money, but it's only good here in the park," Katie explained. "Basically, you have to use it before the three months are over or you lose it."
"Ugh, well if that's the case, I'll just keep the suite," I said.
"I think that's a good choice," Katie replied smiling. "Plus- you don't technically need any money here. Pretty much everything here is all-inclusive. If you want to buy or rent anything extra, you can just tap into your paycheck.
"And how do I do that?" I asked.
"Oh, well, you'll just use your room key like a credit card. Or if you have a smart device, just upload your card and waive it in front of an easy-pay sensor. It'll withdraw the funds from your final paycheck," Katie explained.
Boy, they'd really thought of everything. "And what about my belongings that I came in with?" I asked.
"Those are actually already waiting for you in your suite," she replied. "All except for your slave, of course. Once she completes orientation, she'll be all yours. Congrats on that too, by the way! Not only did you win your freedom, but you also captured your own slave? Amazing! Well done!"
Ugh. My slave. For a brief moment, I'd completely forgotten about Brandy. The thought of having to share the castle suite with a bitchy stranger suddenly seemed to taint my euphoria of a 3-month, paid stay-cation. Oh how I wish I could just be a heartless bitch and sell Brandy to the highest bidder. Being paid to stay in the castle sweet alone for three months with no responsibilities sounded like pure bliss.
"Do you have any more questions, Miss O'Connell?" Katie asked.
Loads, I thought. "No," I replied instead, "I'll figure out the rest as I go."
"Alright, then!" She replied. She extended her hand, offering me a pamphlet and room key-card attached to a lanyard. "Here's a map of the park as well as your room key which is also your pay-card. Everything's activated, so you're all good to go! If you continue straight ahead, you'll see elevators that'll take you up to the surface.
"Thanks," I said, giving a weak smile and grabbing the key-card from her.
"My pleasure! Welcome to the Kingdom!" Katie called after me as I walked away.
Phew. I felt like I needed a nap after talking to her. She had way too much energy to be effective in a stationary desk job. Unfortunately for her, I predicted a transfer back to 'entertainment' in her near future.
I walked toward the glass elevators that were lined along the back wall. Just as I approached, one of the six elevators dinged and the glass doors slid open. I stepped inside, and was quickly joined by 6 men dressed in camouflage. I pressed myself into the corner of the elevator and was forced to begin breathing out of my mouth due to the overwhelming odor of dirt and sweat.
Moments later, the glass doors closed and the elevator began ascending. It's a good thing I wasn't afraid of heights, because the glass walls of the elevator gave a spectacular view of the cavernous subway station below. After we ascended roughly 100 feet, we finally passed through the ceiling, replacing our open view with grey concrete on all sides.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cold glass to my right. What a day it had been! I had no idea what time it was, but I felt as if I hadn't slept in weeks. I simply couldn't wait to get back to the castle and collapse into bed.
I felt the elevator slowed to a halt, causing me to open my eyes. After a loud ding, the doors slid open to reveal a crowd of men walking on the other side. Music was blaring and I could feel a bass beat pounding deep within my chest. I exited the elevator last only to realize that we were now standing inside the stadium tunnel at Notts'. Wait a minute! There were elevators at Notts' stadium? How did I not know this?!
I spun around, trying to get my bearings. The glass doors slid closed behind me, followed by another set of doors. These doors were covered in stone to match the interior walls of the tunnel. Once completely closed, the elevator entryway looked nearly invisible. The only indications that there were elevators there were signs hanging above that read, 'ELEVATOR TO STATION'.
Spinning back around, I moved my way toward the end of the tunnel where all the commotion seemed to be coming from. Once I reached the end of the tunnel, my jaw dropped as I entered the ground floor of the stadium. The space had been transformed into a bustling demonstration hall and the floor was packed with rows of booths and displays manned by vendors. As I walked down the center aisle, it didn't take long to recognize the theme of this conference. Nearly every vendor in sight was sex or BDSM themed.
To my left was a curvy naked woman lying on a table being hogtied by a man with a Mohawk. A group of men watched closely as he demonstrated his step-by-step process of binding the woman. To my right was another naked woman, gagged, and restrained, seated atop a stationary exercise bike. Beneath the seat of the bike was a mechanical contraption that pumped a rubber dildo deep into the woman's pussy with each cycle that she peddled. The song 'Bicycle' by Queen blared from the speakers behind her.
Booth after booth featured some kinky demonstration or models showing off various sex toys and products. On-looking men laughed and cheered as the female demonstrators were teased and used.
I picked up my pace, eager to make my way to the nearest exit. I honestly couldn't handle any more crazy today. I had officially reached my quota of fucked-up shit. I just needed to get to the castle. I put my head down, kept my eyes forward, and plowed through everyone in my path. Fortunately, people seemed to sense my urgency and got out of my way.
Before I knew it, I was outside the stadium and speed-walking down Centre Street toward the castle. It was now dark outside and the street lamps illuminated the fairegrounds. Somehow, there seemed to be just as many men outside the stadium as there were inside. I continued to speed-walk, desperate to reach my destination and get out of sight and away from the chaos. Several minutes later, I found myself jogging up the stone staircase to the back of the castle. I frantically swiped my key-card through the card reader next to the large wooden door. Once the light blinked green, I swung the door open, leapt inside and threw my weight behind it, slamming it shut. Exhausted and mentally overwhelmed, I gave into gravity and slid down the door until I came to sit on the cold marble floor.
I fought back tears as I sat there. Whether they were tears of joy, relief, or general anxiety, I didn't know. I was hormonal, okay? And like I said, it had been an extremely trying day. I took a moment to take some deep breaths and then forced myself to stand. On the entry hall table in front of me, sat a rectangular gift-box wrapped in a red bow. But for the time being, I couldn't care less what was inside. There was only one thing I was interested in seeing...
I walked right past the gift-box, making a B-line to the master bedroom. Tossing my room-key and pamphlet on the dresser, I walked straight up to the king-sized bed and collapsed on top of the down comforter. My day was officially over. The only thing left on my agenda was sleep. Well-deserved, uninterrupted sleep. Whatever insanity awaited me next would have to wait until the next day. Because, for at least the next 12 hours, I'd be unavailable. And with that, I was out.
Chapter 5 - Pop Quiz
I woke up to the sound of knocking on my bedroom door. Still hallway asleep, I ignored it and buried my face into the covers. More knocks on the door followed.
"Miss O'Connell?" A voice asked.
Disoriented, I groaned, and turned my head toward the voice. I squinted from the sunlight that was pouring through the windows. I was still lying on top of the comforter, exactly where I'd landed the night prior. Standing in the doorway was a woman in a sexy black and white maid outfit. She wore a burgundy choker around her neck.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Miss O'Connell," she said apologetically. "But you weren't answering the phone or your suite door. I was asked to make sure everything was alright."
"I'm fine," I mumbled, rolling over onto my back. As I rolled, I suddenly realized how sore I was. Every muscle in my body seemed to ache. "What time is it?" I asked.
"8:20," the woman replied. "...in the morning," she added, sensing my continued state of disorientation. "We didn't here from you yesterday, so we just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Huh?" I asked. I sat upright, rubbing my eyes. "I was being chased naked through the woods all day yesterday."
"Umm, my apologies, ma'am. But the hunt was the day before last," the woman replied.
I stopped rubbing my eyes and looked up at the woman. "How long was I asleep?" I asked.
"Well, our logs indicate that nobody has entered or exited the suite in the last 32 hours."
Shit, I thought. I must have really been exhausted.
"Well, like I said," the woman continued, "I just came by to make sure everything was okay. Is there anything you need before I leave?"
"Uh-yeah," I answered, standing gingerly to my feet. I winced as I put pressure on the bruised soles of my feet. "Where's all my stuff? I asked. "Clothes and bag that I came in with."
"Oh," the woman replied, stepping into the room and toward the closet. "Everything's been cleaned and sorted." She pulled open the door to the walk-in closet reveal my backpack and outfit hanging on hooks against the far wall.
"I imagine you'll be needing some more clothes," she said, stepping toward the dresser and picking up the pamphlet I'd tossed there earlier. "This is a map of all the boutiques and shops we have on the grounds. I'm afraid most are costume and lingerie shops, but these stores listed at the bottom offer more everyday casual clothing.
I walked over and took the pamphlet from her. Looking at the map for the first time, I noticed that its layout looked remarkably similar to ours at the Renn Faire except for the color scheme and building names. But the most glaring difference was the absence of the words 'Notts' Renaissance Faire'. Instead, the top of the pamphlet simply read 'The Kingdom'.
"Can I help you with anything else?" the woman asked.
"No," I replied, still staring distractedly at the pamphlet.
"Okay then," the woman answered, smiling. "Sorry for the intrusion. Enjoy your stay, Miss O'Connell!"
"Thanks," I mumbled. Moments later, I heard the front door click shut, leaving me alone in my castle suite. With my nose still buried in the pamphlet, I walked toward the bathroom. I had to piss like a race-horse. But I also craved a long hot shower. I felt gross.
Tossing the pamphlet on the counter, stripped out of my jumpsuit, and stepped eagerly into the giant walk-in shower. As hot water began pouring over me, I felt like I could have cried. This was just what I needed. I spent the next half hour drinking copious amounts of water, urinating freely, and rinsing the dirt and sweat off of every inch of my body. I shuddered to imagine what I'd be doing right now had I not escaped slavery.
Speaking of slavery- I was suddenly snapped out of my day-dream by the thought of Brandy. Wait- what ever happened to Brandy? I turned off the water, staring at the tiled wall, deep in thought. If I'd really been asleep for the last 32 hours, who knows what's happened to her during that time. I stepped out of the shower and used a towel to dry off. Grabbing the pamphlet, I began to flip through, looking for any kind of instruction about "fetching slaves". At the bottom of the back page small text read-
Have questions or concerns? Need assistance?
Please dial 0 or use our app to reach the operator.
Still naked, I walked into the foyer, picked up the phone on the accent table, and dialed 0.
Moments later, a woman answered the phone. "Thank you for calling the Kingdom assistance hotline, how may I help you?"
"Hi. I'm uh- I'm calling about my slave," I replied awkwardly. "I, uh... overslept and I don't know how exactly I'm supposed to get her."
"Absolutely, I can help you with that," the woman chirped pleasantly, "Your slave should be waiting at the kennel. Would you like for me to transfer you?"
Kennel? "Sure," I replied.
"Alright, then. Please stay on the line," the woman chirped pleasantly. "Thank you and have a wonderful day."
With that, classical waiting music began to play through the phone's speaker. I looked down at the map on my pamphlet. After a few moments, I spotted the word Kennel above the new indoor horse stables by the stadium.
Moments later, a man's voice interrupted the waiting music. "This is the kennel. Mark speaking."
"Uh, yeah-" I answered. "I'm calling about my slave... I didn't get out yesterday-"
"Is this Miss O'Connell, by chance?" The man asked.
"Yyyes," I replied, hesitantly.
"Ah," he said. "We were wondering when we'd hear from you. Your slave's here with us."
"Oh. So... how do I get her? Do I pick her up at the... kennel?" I asked.
"You bet," the man replied. "We're open til 9 o'clock tonight, so you can swing by anytime before that."
"Uh, okay," I answered. "Thanks."
"My pleasure," he replied. "Have a nice day."
And then, the call was ended. I sighed, dreading the reality that I had to leave the suite. I wanted nothing more than to veg out, order room-service and watch Netflix for a solid week. But from the little I knew about Brandy, I imagined she was more than ready to leave the kennel. I know I would be. I walked back into the closet where my belongings were. I quickly got dressed and tied my damp hair into a ponytail. Grabbing my phone and room key-card, I headed out the door. What I saw on the other side shouldn't have surprised me, but low and behold-
The square was packed with people. Loud, seemingly drunk men led around naked and scantily clad women by the leash. Some of the women wore arbminders and cuffs, while others were tied elaborately with rope in shibari-style. Many sported gags and hoods. Live musicians performed from the center platform, accompanied by naked pole dancers wearing chastity belts.
For fuck's sake, I thought, stopping in my tracks. I missed the days when I thought that Handmaid's Tale was as fucked up as it could get. I stood there for a moment, wondering if I should even risk enjoining the mob before me. Taking a deep breath, I mustered the courage to descend the stone staircase into the crowd. To my pleasant surprise, none of the men even seemed to notice me. They were too entertained by their own women and their booze. The women, on the other hand, all seemed to take notice of me. As I waded through the crowd, I kept catching glares from captured women, staring at me jealously from behind their gags and restraints. I tried my best to avoid eye-contact as I passed by. Poor bitches. I guess I'd be pretty jealous of me too.
I continued down Centre Street toward the kennel. The smell of turkey drumsticks and fried onion blossoms filled the air, reminding me how hungry I was. For a split second, life felt normal. If I closed my eyes, it would have almost felt like just another busy day at the Renn Faire. But, alas, I found myself unable to look away as bound, naked women were exhibited all around me. Most of them were mobile, but some were being used as window models and salespeople in front of the shops. To my left, two women knelt on podiums positioned on either side of the pub door, dressed in skin-tight black latex body-suits. Each looked to be bound with nearly a dozen black leather straps. Whenever someone would enter or leave the pub, the women would say 'Welcome sir' or 'Have a nice day, sir'.
I felt sick to my stomach by the thought of what this place had become. My uncle was surely rolling in his grave right now. I so wished there was a way to shut this all down. But short of arson, I didn't have the first clue how I could go about making that happen.
I continued to weave my through the crowded street, until I arrived at the building I knew to be the stadium horse stable. Surely enough, it now had a large sign hanging above the double-doors that read, KENNEL. It suddenly hit me why Mason had designed the space the way he did. When I originally saw the blueprints, I couldn't imagine why he was making the stalls so wide or why each one had its own electricity and plumbing. I honestly figured he just didn't have a clue about what a typical horse stable was supposed to look like. But now, it all made sense. His primary goal was not to create a building for stabling horses. It was for stabling humans.
When I entered the building, two guards looked up at me from behind the reception desk.
"Hi," I said hesitantly, "I'm here to pick up my slave?"
"Miss O'Connell?" The guard asked.
"Yep," I replied.
"Then, you're in the right place," he said, reaching into a file cabinet and pulling out a folder. "You ready?"
I stared back at him, confused. "Sure," I replied.
"Alright then, here you go," he said, handing me the folder. "You can have a seat over there and bring it back when you've finished."
My eyes followed his gaze to a line of chairs against the wall. "...Okay," I said, taking the folder from him. So, apparently I had to fill out forms...
I walked over to the nearest chair and sat down. Inside the folder was a pencil and a dozen papers clipped together. At a glance, the form looked like a multiple choice questionnaire. At the top, in bold letters, was text that read SLAVE OWNER PROFICIENCY EXAM.
The first question read:
What is a normal average heartbeat for a slave in her resting state?
a.80-100 bpm
b.100-120 bpm
c.120-140 bpm
d.140-160 bpm
Confused, I scanned through the questions, flipping from page to page. "Uh..." I said, looking up to the guards. Both were busy typing on their computers. "I'm sorry-" I continued, "-what is this?"
The guards both looked over at me. "Sorry?" one of them asked.
"I, uh... I don't... I'm not sure what this is," I explained uncomfortably. The two men just stared at me. "I just came by to pick up Brandy."
"Well, ma'am..." the guard replied, glancing over to his partner. "Each Master or Mistress is required to pass their proficiency exam before a slave can be released into their custody," the guard explained. "Since you didn't register as a hunter, you have to take the exam on the grounds."
"I didn't know that," I said bluntly. "I..." I turned back to the top page, shaking my head. "I honestly don't know any of this stuff."
"Didn't you read the material in your welcome package?" The guard asked.
"Welcome package?" I asked.
"It looked like a wrapped gift box," the guard explained. "It should have been in the entry hall of your suite.
Ugh. The gift box. I'd completely forgotten about that!
"Oh- I... didn't open that," I answered. "I saw it when I arrived, but I honestly forgot all about it until right now."
The guards continued to stare at me, clearly unsure of what to say.
"So, what do I do?" I asked. "Should I go back and open the box?"
"Actually," the guard replied, glancing nervously at his partner. "-since you've already seen the exam, I'm afraid you have to complete it as best you can. If you don't pass, you'll be eligible to retake it tomorrow."
I stared at the guard in disbelief. "Are you serious?" I asked.
"I'm afraid so, ma'am. The exam can only be attempted once every 24 hours," the guard answered, apologetically.
"So, I have to just guess for every question?" I asked, perturbed.
"Unless you'd like to just hand it in as it is and come back tomorrow," the guard replied.
I sighed in frustration. Not only was I begrudgingly taking in a full-time slave, but I also had to study up for it? This was starting to seem like way more trouble than it was worth.
"What if I just don't do it?" I asked. "What will happen to Brandy?"
The other guard answered, "If you don't pass the exam by the third day following the hunt, which is tomorrow, then your slave will be placed in the custody of the park and be put up for auction."
I rolled my eyes. "So, I've only got two shots at this and then that's it?"
"I'm afraid so," the guard replied. "If it's any consolation, 90 percent of hunters pass on their first try. After you've had a chance to study, I'm sure you'll ace it tomorrow. Especially now that you've got all the questions in front of you. You'll know exactly what to expect for the second attempt."
I looked back down to the exam. As irksome as all of this was, I couldn't help but feel a little relieved at the prospect of having the suite to myself for one more night. I'm sure Brandy will be pissed to learn that she's stuck in the kennel for another night, but this was shaping up to be a huge relief.
I began reading through the ridiculous questions. Many of them were surprisingly informative and addressed how to recognize distress signals from your slave. And judging by the questions, the slave's collar appeared to actually be a highly sophisticated piece of medical equipment. Certain sounds and light sequences apparently warned the owner when the slave's vital signs reached potentially dangerous levels. They could detect oxygen intake levels, heart-rate, sugar level, and even the wearer's state of consciousness. I took mental note of each question and guessed on the multiple choice for each and every one of them. The whole test took me about 15 minutes. Once I was done, I brought the folder back up to the guards at the front desk.
"Welp, I'm pretty sure I got everything wrong, but here it is," I said.
"Alright," the guard replied. "Let's run this through the scan-tron and see what we've got."
He removed the papers from the folder and fed them through a machine sitting next to his computer monitor. After a few clicks on his mouse, he looked back at me with a frown.
"I'm sorry. I'm afraid you didn't pass," he said. "But 65% isn't bad for someone who didn't study. I'm sure tomorrow will be better."
"Sure," I said, disinterested in being patronized further. "Look, in the meantime, is it possible to see Brandy? I'd like to explain to her what's going on. I'm sure she's freaking out."
The guards looked at each other and chuckled. "That's an understatement," one of them replied.
"Of course you can see her," the other one said, standing to his feet. "She's actually the last of the captured slaves to be picked up so we moved her to the closest cell. This way, please."
The guard walked over to the door located behind the desk and waved a key-card over a card reader. A green light blinked and I heard the door unlock. He opened the door and gestured for me to enter. I stepped in to the wide hallway that once reeked of manure and hay. To my surprise, it now smelled like a hospital that had recently been scrubbed with Clorox. The guard walked past me and waived his keycard over a card reader next to the first doorway on the left. Wide glass doors suddenly slid open, filling the silent hallway with what sounded like the loud roar of a generator or vacuum cleaner accompanied by muffled screams of whom I could only guess were Brandy's.
I stepped forward into a room that looked somewhat like an insane asylum patient's room. On both sides of the room was a bed with medical straps secured to the corners. I imagined they were for keeping the women bound spread-eagle as they slept.
Sitting on the floor with her back against the wall was Brandy. She was completely nude, collared, bit-gagged, and restrained in her seated position. Her wrists still had the black cuffs she wore earlier and they were padlocked to brackets on the wall over her head. Her cuffed ankles were also padlocked to brackets on the floor. This kept her limbs spread far and wide apart. Over each of her nipples was a metal nipple tassel of sorts, minus the tassel. They almost looked like domed metal coins. Beneath her sex was what looked like a black seat cushion. But after looking closer, I could see that it was actually a vibrating saddle of sorts with a dong that extended up from its base, impaling Brandy's vagina. Based on the loudness of the contraption, it sounded to be vibrating at a high intensity. Brandy's face was beet red and she looked downright livid. She was panting heavily and her naked body glistened with a layer of sweat.
Squatting at eye level in black latex and heels, holding an iPad, was none other than Annabelle, the black-haired vampire lady that had tranquilized me back at the inn.
"You," I said, feeling my heart drop.
"Well, hello again!" Annabelle said cheerfully, turning to face me. "We were wondering when you'd show up."
She raised her iPad and slid her finger across the screen. Instantly, the loud roar of the vibrating saddle faded to a barely-audible hum. She then laid the iPad on the floor in front of Brandy and stood up. Brandy pointlessly stretched out her toes toward the ipad, seemingly in an attempt to tap an 'off' button on the screen, but she came about 2 inches short and groaned in dramatic defeat.
"Jodie, it's wonderful to see you again," she said, walking over to me, her heels clicking the floor with each step. "Congratulations on your escape." I remained silent and continued glaring at her.
"Come now, let's not be like that," She said, patronizingly. "First impressions are always rough around here, but I think it's safe to say that everything's turned out pretty well for you. Here you are, our very first champion ever! 1 million dollars richer, and the proud owner of your very own sexy slave."
As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. With exception to my failed exam, virtually everything I'd done so far had worked out in my favor. And after all was said and done, I'd probably be able to retire if I wanted to.
"Speaking of which," Annabelle continued, "-you sure roped yourself a spitfire! I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of babysitting anyone quite so headstrong." Brandy grunted unintelligibly behind her, prompting a smirk from Annabelle. "It's a shame we don't have more time. We nearly had a breakthrough just before you arrived."
"Actually," the guard beside me interrupted, "-Miss O'Connell didn't pass her exam, so this one will be staying with us for another night."
Brandy's eyes suddenly shot wide open and her gagged face contorted in what looked like a mixture of shock and fear. She let out a muffled shriek that sounded like, "WHAT?" The black-haired lady's face suddenly lit up and her mouth opened up wide in excitement.
"What a wonderful surprise!" she exclaimed. She turned back toward Brandy, leaning over and placing her hands on her knees. "That means you get to spend another whole day with Mistress Annabelle! How exciting!"
Brandy closed her eyes and screamed at the top of her lungs, ferociously tugging at her bonds with all her might and writhing atop her saddle.
Annabelle cackled joyfully, straightening up and turning back to face us. "One more day and she'll be meek as a kitten. You have my word."
"Don't I have any say in any of this?" I said, breaking my silence. The guard and Annabelle just stared at me. "I mean, she is my slave. Don't I get to decide what happens to her?"
"Once you have custody, of course," Annabelle replied. "But until then, my duty is to prepare her for the rigors of slavery."
"Well, I don't plan on doing this kind of shit," I challenged, raising my voice slightly. "So you're not exactly preparing her appropriately, are you?"
Annabelle smiled back at me, seemingly amused by my aggressiveness. "Depending on the results of your exam tomorrow," she explained, "-there's no guarantee that you'll actually win custody of your slave. God forbid, if you do fail again, she'll be joining the others on the auction block. In which case, she'll definitely be needing all the preparation she can get." She turned back toward Brandy and continued, "As I've told her countless times now, the sooner she submits and drops the whole wonder-woman act, the sooner she can look forward to a more relaxed stay. The auction ladies in the other cells are currently enjoying their hour of free time. That could be you, but you keep insisting on fighting me. Not very smart."
"HUCK OOO!" Brandy hollered into her giant bit-gag.
Damn, Brandy really wasn't doing herself any favors. Brandy was undoubtedly in a bad place at the moment, but seriously- this woman seemed to be searching for reasons to torment her. And Brandy was just serving them to her on a silver platter. Definitely not very smart.
"Can we have a minute alone?" I asked, nodding toward Brandy.
"Certainly," Annabelle replied, walking back over to Brandy and picked up the iPad she'd laid on the ground. She tapped on the corner of the screen, prompting a loud zap sound. Both of Brandy's nipple tassels suddenly flashed red. Brandy shrieked and writhed in her bonds. Her hands grasped the air pointlessly and her toes clenched tight. The nipple tassels must have been electric shocking devices, I thought. Remote controlled by the iPad the same way her saddle was. Damn this technology was perverted!
"That's for the potty mouth," she said to Brandy. "Your nipples can look forward to another 25 of those when I return." Brandy yelled back at her unintelligibly through her gag. Then, Annabelle and the guard headed for the exit. "We'll be right outside if you need anything." Once the two had left, the sliding glass doors closed behind them.
I turned back toward Brandy and walked briskly over to her. I stooped down and began fidgeting with the bit-gag that was buckled behind her head. I instantly realized it wasn't coming off due to the small padlock on the buckle.
"Oh for fuck's sake," I muttered. "Sorry, it's locked."
Brandy groaned dramatically. I then went to remove the nipple tassels from her breasts. To my surprise, as soon as I touched them, I heard another loud zap. Brandy screamed and leaned away from me, frantically shaking her head. I guess the tassels were touch-sensitive. Woops.
"Sorry!" I replied. "Just trying to help."
Brandy let out a deep sigh. I sat down on the floor, Indian style, in front of her. Now that I was closer, I could clearly hear the low hum of the vibrating dildo and saddle beneath her. I did my best not to look at it, but rather, into her eyes. She wasn't glaring at me like she was at Annabelle but the look in her eyes indicated that she was clearly wasn't thrilled with me.
"Look, I'm sorry you have to stay here another night. Nobody told me anything about an exam. They just sprang it on me when I got here." Brandy sighed, rolling her eyes. "Apparently, I can only take it once a day. So, I'll have to come back in the morning to get you out."
"Ehl, hake hoor oo hudy," Brandy replied. I stared back at her, trying to translate what she'd said into English. "Hudy," she reiterated impatiently.
"Study?" I asked. Brandy nodded her head. "Yeah," I replied. "Will do. According to the guard, I've only got one more try. If I fail again, you uh... you get auctioned off with the others."
The blood instantly drained from Brandy's face. "Ehl, dot hail!" she said forcefully.
"I won't fail." I reassured her. "I nearly passed just by guessing. I'll be fine."
I accidentally allowed my eyes to wander down Brandy's naked form. She really was stunning. Despite her obvious discontent, it was somewhat arousing to see someone so beautiful trapped in such a predicament. As a bisexual woman with an affinity for BDSM, I had to admit, the sight of Brandy was a definite turn-on. I had zero intent on keeping her in such a state of slavery, but the devil on my shoulder was definitely whispering frantically in my ear. I forced my gaze back up to Brandy's face before she could notice my wandering eyes.
"So yeah..." I said, standing to my feet. "I uh, just wanted to tell you what was going on... and why you have to stay here for another night." Brandy stared back at me, unresponsive. "Look, it's none of my business," I continued, "-but I think you'll do a lot better if you just play along with this bitch. Do what she asks for 24 hours. There's no sense in giving her even more of a reason to want to fuck with you." Brandy's eyes narrowed to slits and she shook her head definitely from side to side. After a moment of awkward silence, I turned abruptly to leave.
"Okay, then. Your life. Take care," I said flippantly. Brandy growled after me as I walked away. Obviously, Brandy had been through an ordeal. But given the effort I was clearly trying to make on her behalf, I felt that she was doing a pretty poor job at expressing any sense of gratitude. Whatever. At least now, I now had the rest of the day to myself. I approached the sliding glass door and looked for a handle or button to open it. After failing to find anything, I looked upward to a surveillance camera in the corner and waved my hand. Moments later, the door slid open, revealing Annabelle and the guard in mid-conversation.
"All finished?" Annabelle pleasantly, turning to face me.
"Yep," I replied, stepping out of the room and walking past the two of them toward the exit.
"Before you leave," Annabelle called after me, "-I was just telling Jeremy how fond I've grown of your Brandy. So much, in fact, that I'd like to purchase her from you. I think she'd make an excellent assistant for my demonstrations."
I stopped and turned to face the woman. Brandy's shrieks suddenly echoed from her cell, most-likely in response to the proposition that she'd just overheard. Without pause, Annabelle lifted her iPad and slid her finger across the screen, instantly prompting the return of the loud roar I knew to be the sound of the vibrating saddle that Brandy was perched on top of. Brandy's blood-curdling screams instantly followed. The glass doors then slid shut, drowning out the noise altogether.
"I was told I couldn't keep any money once I left here," I countered, dryly.
"Correct," Annabelle replied. "But there are a host of other things I can offer you. Perhaps, for starters, a replacement slave?"
I turned once more to leave. "I'll pass," I said bluntly, pushing the hallway door open. It felt particularly satisfying saying no to her. Especially after everything she'd put me through.
"You can pick any one of the 37 girls we've got here!" she called after me.
"Bye!" I called back as the door closed behind me.
"Have a good day, ma'am," the guard behind the counter said to me, smiling.
I wasn't talking to you, dumbass, I thought. I walked briskly by him and exited the building. As good as it felt to have shot Annabelle's offer down, I couldn't help but second-guess my decision. Brandy was obviously going to be difficult to deal with. Even though I had no interest in playing the dominant/submissive game with her, it still seemed daunting to have to share my quarters with her. Did I really want to have Brandy as a roommate for three months? Perhaps a trade would have been the smart choice.
Either way, I now had the entire day to myself. There were more important matters to tend to. Like what I was going to eat for lunch or where I was going to find some new clothes to buy. Tomorrow, I'd have Brandy's fate in my hands. But today, I was free to do whatever I wanted. And that's exactly what I intended to do...
Chapter 6 - The Old Man's Widow
Barbeque sauce ran down my chin as I devoured my second beef barbeque sandwich. I sat alone at a table on the patio at Vern's Brisket and Vine. The sign hanging over the eatery, however, had been replaced with a new sign that read Sally's BBQ. Beneath the lettering was a profile of a hogtied naked woman wearing a ball-gag. Opposite her was the profile of a roasted pig with an apple in its mouth. For the life of me, I couldn't imagine why this was considered sexy. It almost gave me a 'Sweeney Todd' cannibalism vibe. Nonetheless, it didn't have any affect on my appetite. Once my second sandwich was gone, I washed it down with the rest of the beer from my frosted mug.
Biding time until my waitress decided to show up with my check, I began skimming the weekly park entertainment guide that was printed on my barbecue-stained paper placemat. Each day, there looked to be dozens of bands, singers, dancers, and demonstrators performing throughout the park. Damn, they had far more park entertainment than we ever had at Notts' Faire.
At the bottom of the placemat, a disclaimer read:
All performers/demonstrators are contracted by 'The Kingdom'.
Unsanctioned public performances/demonstrations are
punishable by fine and/or Kennel accommodation
"Can I get you anything else, Miss?" a voice asked from behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see my waitress, holding an empty tray by her side. She looked to be in her mid-20's and was attractive enough to have been a supermodel. Like all of the servers, she was dressed in a sexy Oktoberfest-style outfit. And similar to the female concierges from check-in as well as the maid in my suite this morning, she too wore a burgundy choker around her neck. The nameplate in the middle read 'Tina'. I had come to guess that all female employees of The Kingdom must have been required to wear one of these.
"Uh, I think I'm all finished," I replied.
"Alright, then. You're free to hang out for as long as you'd like. There's a bluegrass band playing here in about 15 minutes if you wanna stick around," she added, leaning over my shoulder to point to today's date on the entertainment guide on my placemat.
"Uh, I think I'm good, actually," I replied. "I'll probably just head out."
"Sure thing! Thank you for visiting Sally's BBQ. Have a great day at the Kingdom!" she said smiling.
"Wait, uh-" I replied, "Do I get a check or..."
"Oh, no ma'am," she answered. "All counter service meals are free of charge. Or rather, they're included in the meal package you've already got."
"Oh," I replied, "Well, I don't have cash. How do I pay tip?" I lifted up my key car that was dangling from the lanyard around my neck.
The server smiled and shook her head. "That's very sweet of you, but we're not permitted to accept tips."
"Really?" I asked. "Sorry, that kinda sucks."
"Oh, it's quite alright," she leaned in and whispered, "We get paid more than enough without it. Discretion has its perks."
"Oh," I replied. "That's good." The woman giggled and began to walk away.
"Have a great day," she replied.
"Thanks. You too," I responded.
I wiped the remaining bbq sauce from my hands and face and folded my entertainment guide/placemat to take with me. I winced as I stood up. The soles of my feet still ached horribly from my ordeal in the woods.
What I needed a pedicure! A pedicure! Why hadn't I thought of that earlier?! I wondered what were the odds were that The Cedarhouse Spa was still up and running. Unlikely, but worth checking out, nonetheless. During the regular season, The Cedarhouse was my go-to place for pedicures, manicures, and massages. And as you may have guessed, the entire parlor smelt of cedar wood.
Exiting the restaurant patio, I made my way through the crowded street. Nearly every woman I passed was either naked or practically naked. All of them wore various types of restraints and gags and were led by their male "owners" by a leash. I did my best not to stare, but most of these women were drop-dead gorgeous. As a bisexual somewhat-kinky, sexually active woman, it was quite the challenge to ignore the view.
And despite my eagerness to blend in, nearly every woman I passed seemed to lock eyes with me and stare jealously at my lack of restraints. The unwanted attention I was garnering almost made me want to get a fake collar so I could avoid everyone's scrutiny.
After meandering my way through the busy streets, I finally arrived at Cedar Square. But to my disappointment, The Cedarhouse was no longer. A new sign now hung over the store-front window that read, "Murphy's Hall". Dammit.
In the courtyard in the center of the square, a large group of people were gathering. During the regular season at Notts', this is where the Cedarhouse massage chairs sat. Now, a large banner hung between the lampposts that read "Murphy's Hall". Beneath the banner, an older bald man in jeans and a white t-shirt was encouraging the crowd to draw closer for a demonstration of sorts. He looked to be in his 70's but had a surprisingly athletic build for his age. Beside him stood what looked like a futuristic piece of fitness equipment that resembled a giant spider. Jointed metal arms extended forward from both sides of a pod-shaped body. The entire contraption stood several feet taller than the old man and was nearly half as wide. But a sea of heads were preventing me from gaining a clear view of the device.
I reached into my pocket and retrieved my folded placemat. I scanned the guide to see who was demonstrating, but couldn't find any performances listed at the Cedar Square courtyard during this time slot. Similarly, I couldn't locate anything that referenced the name 'Murphy'. Out of curiosity, I stowed the placemat back in my pocket and pressed forward, eager to get a better look.
As I made my way closer toward the front, my jaw suddenly dropped. Through the crowd, I gasped as I saw a naked, ring-gagged woman locked in a seated position at the device's front. The woman was none other than Tasha from the hunt! Tasha's afro had been shaved off. Her eyes were cold. Her face: emotionless. I quickly side-shuffled to my right, hoping to shield myself from Tasha's view. The awkwardness of seeing Tasha face-to-face was not something I was ready for. But as I hid behind the guy in front of me, everything suddenly dawned on me. The old man standing next to her must be the racist fucking machine guy that the gamesmen had laughed about during the hunt! And Tasha was his slave!
I peeked out to get a closer look at Tasha's predicament. The seat that she sat on looked to be made of steel piping and sections of padded leather cushioning, similar to that of a workout bench. Her feet rested together on the ground and her head came roughly to the old man's waist. Her weight appeared to be supported by the metal arms that extended from the sides of large pod behind her. Wide metal cuffs encompassed her ankles, thighs, wrists, elbows, and neck. A larger metal cuff encompassed her entire torso, resting above her breasts and wrapping around her back from beneath the armpits. Each individual cuff was connected to at least one of the jointed metal arms. This kept Tasha completely immobile in an upright and seated position. Her knee and ankle cuffs were pressed together as were the cuffs on her wrists and elbows behind her back.
It was then that I noticed the black dildo rising up and down from a dome-shaped contraption beneath her seat. An attached piston kept the dildo slowly plunging into Tasha's pussy about once every second. How long Tasha had been subject to this, I knew not. But judging by her stoic expression, the dildo didn't appear to be arousing her very much.
"Alright, come on in, folks," the old man urged the crowd. "Come as close as you can get. We're all friends here. Don't be afraid to rub up against your neighbor. Especially this one. Damn, what a bombshell! Well done, sir!" He nodded toward a naked blonde woman wearing an armbinder. The man holding her leash raised his tankard of beer toward him in appreciation. "You can rub up against me any day, miss! I mean it. Keep coming in, folks! The demonstration is about to begin! I promise, you do not want to miss this!"
The crowd began to get more congested and I took a deep breath as I began to feel claustrophobic. But as I stared at Tasha, bound and gagged as she was with a dildo impaling her over and over, I couldn't help but feel like my claustrophobia was a perfect example of what people had come call "white privilege". Deal with it, Ali, I thought.
"Alright! Welcome! Thanks for joining us today! Some of you know me, some of you may not. My name's Tom Murphy, but most folks just call me Murphy. This is my third year as a vendor at The Kingdom and I specialize in the engineering of fucking machines." Chuckles and snickers filled the audience. "Yes, you heard me right. Fucking machines. Why would I specialize in such things, you ask? Well, the answer is simple. Because all of us are getting older. And many of us don't have quite the... shall I say, stamina that we used to. We pay a lot of money to come here each year and enslave our women, only to remember that our natural equipment... isn't quite what it used to be. We're able to put our women to use maybe once every hour or so. If we're lucky. And in the meantime, we're left to suffer through the looks of boredom on their faces while we regain our energy for the next round."
The crowd had now grown well past the confines of the courtyard and onlookers spread onto the sidewalks in front of the surrounding shops to see Murphy speak.
"Well, with the help of my machines, you won't have to witness those looks of boredom any longer. Because fucking machines promise to keep the party going," Murphy explained. "Need to step out for a new pair of clamps or a new gag? No problem. Hook your lady up to a fucking machine while you're out. Need a bite to eat? No problem. Strap your lady in and let the fucking machine exercise her body until you return. I've found that there's nothing quite as satisfying as watching your slave come to terms with the reality that her master has the ability to keep her going all day and all night if he so chooses. Isn't that right, pet?" Murphy looked down at Tasha with a grin on his face.
"This helpless creature's name is Lehana," He placed his hand on Tasha's head. Did he say Lehana? Tasha remained still, but I could see fire ignite from behind her eyes. "Lehana comes all the way from Western Sahara. I actually looked it up- as ironic as it may seem, in African, the name Lehana actually means 'one who refuses'."
Laughter erupted in the crowd. Holy shit, the gamesmen were right. Old-man Murphy really was a racist bastard...
"As you can see," Murphy continued, "-Lehana is no longer in a position to refuse much of anything. Whatever she's given is exactly what she receives. Isn't that right, Lehana?" He lifted her chin with his hand, prompting her to turn her face away from him. "Truth hurts sometimes, doesn't it?" he asked, chuckling. Tasha exhaled deeply, seemingly in an effort to settle her boiling rage.
"So, I figured," Murphy continued, "-that it was only appropriate to find Lehana a new and more suitable name. But we also want to be respectful of her African heritage, right? I thought, perhaps we could find a name that still honors her roots?" The audience laughed in agreement. "So I've done some research and I've narrowed it down to three beeeauuuutiful traditional African names. The first is... Deka, which means, 'one who pleases'. Rest assured, folks- she would definitely be living up to that name. The second name is Thulani. Lovely, right? Thulani means, 'be still, be quiet'. Always great tips for slave-life." More laughter filled the courtyard. "And the third choice, which happens to be my personal favorite, is Sanura. Just rolls off your tongue, doesn't it. Sanuuuura. It means, 'kitten-like'. She looks like a kitten, doesn't she? Definitely less black panther, more calico." Murphy petted Tasha's head, causing her nostrils to flare.
If it hadn't been for Tasha's dark complexion, I'm certain that her face would be blood red with anger. It's one thing to use BDSM to humiliate. It's another thing entirely to use it as an opportunity to further a racist agenda. This was yet another first for me... Tasha may have been a royal bitch to me earlier, but I still hated to see her have to put up with shit like this. As a woman, I couldn't help but want to see Tasha get revenge on this fucker.
"So, I'd like your input," Murphy said. "Before you leave today, please fill out a form with your name of choice and place it in the box by the entry of my shop." He motioned toward the building that read 'Murphy's Hall' on his left. "The name that wins the most votes will become Lehana's new name from here on out. And on top of that, one lucky person will be chosen to win this beauty for the entirety of their stay." Excited murmurs filled the crowd and many began moving toward the box that Murphy referenced. "Not the slave, of course," Murphy chuckled. "Lehana's mine. No, I'm referring to the advanced piece of machinery that she's currently restrained to. So let's stop messing around and see all that this puppy can do. Once again, for those who are just joining us, I'm Murphy and this is a live demonstration of my newest fucking machine. I call it the Widow."
Murphy paced back and forth confidently as he spoke. "The Widow was designed to solve a host of problems for slave owners. Since coming here, I've seen a lot of my customers land themselves in a bit trouble for not properly monitoring their slave's heart rate. As you know, according to the bi-laws we all agree to, a slave's heart rate cannot be kept higher than 150 beats per minute for longer than 30 minutes out of each hour. When you miscalculate, the collar detects it." Murphy tapped on Tasha's collar. "And it's not long before the authorities come knocking at your door. I know- the red tape will drive you nuts. I've had to watch helplessly as too many of my customers have been forced to spend an evening in the kennel for this minor infraction. So, I sought out to fix it. And today, I'm proud to say that I've officially solved the problem."
Murmurs and applause filled the courtyard. I couldn't help but subconsciously compare this old guy to a perverted, jacked Steve Jobs. He certainly had a way of keeping one's attention. Even I, who had Zero interest whatsoever in purchasing this stupid machine, found myself being drawn in.
"Starting now," Murphy continued, "-each of my machines, regardless of model, is equipped with the capability of communicating directly with your slave's collar. They analyzes your slave's heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen levels, and they automatically adjust the settings accordingly. You no longer have to stand by with a stopwatch to monitor your slave's heart rate. You no longer have to fear a visit to the kennel. The equipment simply does all of the work for you."
More Cheers and whistles echoed through the courtyard. Tasha remained stone-faced and stoic.
"One of the main requests that I've received over the years is to simplify the rigging. No matter how technologically inclined you may be, it can still be tricky to hook up your slave up to certain machines. Well, if this has ever been a struggle for you in the past, I would encourage you to look no further than the Widow," He motioned to the contraption that Tasha was seated on. "This is by far the most user-friendly sex machine we've ever sold. And it also happens to be incredibly customizability. Allow me to demonstrate."
Murphy walked behind Tasha to the large metal pod. He raised his hand toward a touchscreen located on the side.
"Without removing any of her restraints, the Widow can seamlessly transfer Lehana into a hogtie position, frog-tie position, spreadeagle position, doggie-style position, you name it. The possibilities are really endless. But first, let's keep Lehana as she is. This is what we call the home position," Murphy continued. "As you can see, Lehana's enjoying the pleasure of a large-sized dildo fucking her pussy. You're welcome, pet." The audience laughed supportively.
"Now, from this screen, or from the app on your smartphone, you can change the dildo's intensity," Murphy said as he tapped on the touchscreen. The dildo suddenly sped up impale Tasha at a rapid pace. Her eyes shot open wide and she shrieked though her ring-gag. "Somebody's awake!" Murphy said mockingly.
More laughter filled the courtyard as Tasha leaned her head backward and her eyes closed.
"You can also add some anal probing into the mix if you so choose," Murphy added, tapping the screen again.
Suddenly, a red light appeared on the domed base beneath her and a second dildo began to ascend from a piston right behind the first.
"That red light you see is actually a laser mapping sensor which guides each phallus to its designation to the millimeter."
After a few seconds, the dildo appeared to make contact. This was made obvious by yet another shriek and the flexing of Tasha's abdominal muscles. She groaned as the dildo forced its way inside her anus. Once fully submerged, the dildo began pumping in and out to the off-beat of the original. With her eyes closed, Tasha shook her head ferociously from side to side. I could see her knuckles behind her turning pale from clenching them so hard.
"We'll leave those puppies as they are for now," Murphy said, stepping away from the touchscreen. "Should help Lehana keep boredom at bay."
Tasha's eyes opened to scowl at Murphy.
"And the other nice thing about the home position, is that your slave is in perfect placement to service her master as well." Murphy stepped over the metal arms holding her legs together to straddle her thighs. His crotch rested inches away from her ring-gagged mouth. "I won't demonstrate that right now for you though. Perhaps later, eh pet?"
I heard a growl escape Tasha's mouth as she appeared to tug on her restraints. Ignoring her display of resistance, Murphy lifted his legs back over the metal arms and stepped aside.
"Now, I need a volunteer," He called out. "Anyone care to help me out? Alright, how about this young man, right here?" He pointed to a muscular guy in a tank top who looked to be in his low 30's. "Step foreword, son." The muscular guy jumped forward with a big smile on his face. "Now, you look like you're a strong fella. Do me a favor and pull Lehana's knees apart." The man hesitated for a second. Murphy explained, "I wanna get a better look at that pussy. Just go ahead and separate those legs for us."
The man stepped forward and grabbed ahold of the cuffs on Tasha's knees. I saw his arm muscles flex as he attempted to pull them apart. After a few seconds of trying, he straightened up. "I can't. They're stuck," he said.
"Stuck?" Murphy asked, confused. "Hold on, let me try." He motioned the man to step aside and bent over to try. With merely his index fingers, Murphy pushed her legs wide apart, exposing a view of the dildo hammering away at her sex. The audience laughed as the young guy looked genuinely confused.
"I'm sure you loosened them up for me," Murphy said. The audience roared with laughter. "Now that they're nice and limber, go ahead and put her legs back together for me."
The muscular guy stepped in front of Tasha and tried to force her knees together. They wouldn't budge from their spread position. Murphy once more stepped in and pressed them together with his index fingers, which prompted more laughter. Murphy then raised his hand to squeeze the guy's bicep. The guy flexed, enjoying the attention of the crowd.
Murphy shrugged, "Huh... I guess steroids can't solve everything, huh?" This prompted more laughter.
I could see that the fucking machine was beginning to take its toll on Tasha. Her chest now heaved with each breath and I could tell that an orgasm was approaching.
"You know what? I feel bad. I haven't been forthcoming," Murphy put his arm around the muscular guy. "There's actually very technical reason that you aren't able to move this slave's legs. And you'll be relieved to hear that it has nothing to do with your gigantic muscles." The man chuckled sportingly. "The reason you can't move Lehana is because you aren't wearing these very special wrist bands that I've got on."
Murphy raised his free wrist to show a black and silver wrist band.
"I've got one on each wrist. These bad boys communicate with the device to tell it that the master is making an alteration. Once their proximity is less than a few inches from the restraint, the mechanisms in these arms unlock and allow me to rearrange."
"No way," the man mused in awe.
"Yes way," Murphy answered. "I can do this-" Murphy spread her legs again and pushed her ankles beneath her into a frogtie position. "I can do this-" He stepped behind her and raised her wrists upward into a painful looking strappado. "I can do this-" He pressed the front of Tasha's collar upward, forcing her head to crane back to face into the sky.
"And if I like what I've done, I can easily set the position to a preset so I can quickly return to it at a later time." He raised his bracelet up to his mouth and said, "Save position." A green light began blinking on both his bracelet at the center of the black pod of the Widow. "It's as simple as that."
The audience ooo'd and awww'd. Tasha's breathing had increased rapidly and I could hear her wheezing through her ring-gag. Her fingers were no longer clenched, but flexing outwards. She looked to be on the verge of having an explosive orgasm.
"And riiiiight when it looks like Lehana's about to achieve the climax that she's so desperately longed for, I can do this," Murphy raised his hands in the air and clapped three times. Suddenly, the dildos ceased pumping up and down and retracted downward into dome beneath her.
Still staring up at the sky, Lehana, I mean Tasha, let out a shriek that echoed through the entire park. Her toes and fingers clenched once more and I could see her bucking her hips up and down in an obvious attempt to bring her orgasm to completion. She had to have been close. Poor girl. She continued to wail miserably, which only prompted louder laughter and cheers from the crowd.
"Now, now, Lehana. You're on the clock, remember? Behave," Murphy said patronizingly. "Maybe once the demonstration ends, okay?"
Tasha screamed into her ring-gag again and shook her head from side to side as best as her craned head would allow.
"She agrees," Murphy added, sending the audience laughing.
"Bastard." I said to myself. But for some reason, my words came out louder than I had intended them to. Much louder... Murphy had heard me and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Many people in the crowd also turned to face me. I felt a pit form in my stomach. Why did I say that so loudly?!
"Sorry, what was that?" Murphy laughed.
I hesitated for a moment. My eyes flicked up at Tasha who's head was still craned skyward from her Murphy repositioning collar. From that angle, she couldn't see my face. After a deep breath, and for no real reason other than spite, I decided to embrace my inner bitch and double down.
"I said you're a bastard." Several people in the crowd 'ooo'd' at my insult. Nodding towards Tasha, I continued, "She's obviously not enjoying this, so how about you rap this up and let her out." The crowd fell silent. A malicious smile began to spread across Murphy's face.
"Stickin' up for a sista," Murphy mused. "I can respect that. I'll tell you what- seeing as you're so concerned for her, what do you say we swap you two out so she can have a rest?"
"I'll pass," I replied coldly, interrupting the audience's laughter.
"Pity!" he replied. "I'm sure you'd look stunning on the Widow. What do you think, folks? Who wants to see the ginger take Lehana's place?" The audience cheered and laughed. "Where is your master, young lady?"
"Don't have one," I replied coyly.
"You don't have one?" he challenged, confused. "Then, where's your husband?" I stared back silently. "No husband either?" He studied me for a moment before raising his eyebrows in apparent realization.
"Ahhhh," he mused. "I see now. No master, no husband, and no collar or employee choker... This can only mean one thing," he continued. "Slaves and gentlemen, it looks like we've got a celebrity in our midst! If I'm not mistaken, we are looking at the Kingdom's very first Champion of the Hunt!"
There were murmurs throughout the crowd, but most remained silent, unsure of what to make of this unexpected twist in the demonstration. Every eye in the audience was now looking at me. Whether I liked it or not, there were now over a hundred people who knew my face. Not that it mattered, but it did make me feel a bit apprehensive to be out of the closet, so to speak. 'So much for blending in', I thought to myself. I remained silent and stone-faced, determined to show that I was undaunted by Murphy's provocations. Murphy laughed to himself, proud of his power of deduction.
"So, tell us-" Murphy chided. "How does it feel to be a free woman? Or rather- no, no, no- How about you tell the audience what you miss most about your natural role of servitude?" The crowd laughed.
Unwilling to tolerate his chauvinism, I turned abruptly to leave. There was nothing I could say that would resonate with this crowd. They seemed to delight in watching this asshole talk down to people like me. I could feel proud of the fact that stood up for Tasha. Now, it was time to leave.
"Aw come now-" Murphy called after me mockingly. "Don't leave angry. I'm just teasing! Look, I may be a bastard, but I'm told I can be a sweetheart once you get to know me." I ignored him and kept meandering through the crowd. "Just ask Lehana!" The audience laughed harder.
I was almost to the sidewalk when I suddenly came to a startling realization. Turning back toward the courtyard, I could see that most eyes were still on me. Good...
"Hey dickhead-" I called to him. "Have you happened to read this week's entertainment guide?" The volume of the crowd had died down, helping my voice resonate across the entire square. Even without a microphone, I could be heard by everyone.
"I can't say I have," Murphy replied smugly. "Why do you ask?"
Pulling out the folded placemat from my pocket, I continued, "I only ask, because it happens to list all of the performers and demonstrators for the week. And the funny thing is- I can't seem to find your name listed anywhere on here as a public performer or demonstrator... Why do you suppose that might that be?"
Murphy chuckled, seemingly caught off-guard by my question, "Uh- most likely because I'm not an official demonstrator, sweetie. I'm just a vendor."
"So you weren't contracted by 'The Kingdom' to demonstrate these machines?" I challenged.
Visibly perplexed by my line of questioning, Murphy gave a forced laugh and replied, "I think I'd remember if I was."
"Excellent," I replied with a grin. I could feel my heart rate quicken. "Allow me to read you the disclaimer at the bottom of this week's entertainment guide- 'All performers and demonstrators are contracted by 'The Kingdom'. Unsanctioned public performances and demonstrations are punishable by fine and/or Kennel accommodation..."
Silence filled the square as the crowd looked nervously back and forth from Murphy to me.
"So folks," I continued, addressing the crowd now, "-what do you think? Should I alert the Kennel that Dickhead here, a non-contracted demonstrator, is conducting unsanctioned demonstrations in the Cedar Square Courtyard?"
Unexpectedly, a chorus of patronizing ooooooo's filled the audience, all of which were directed at Murphy. Almost every captive woman in the crowd wore a smile on their face as they beamed at me. Seeing a Man like Murphy be put in his place had to be a morale booster for them. Murphy's face, however, was no longer smiling and his smug expression had long vanished. Instead, he stood silently, seething, clearly at a loss for words.
"Like I said," I called out, "-pack up your little shit show and go home." And with that, I turned and walked away. "You've got 2 minutes before I have a chat with security!" I called over my shoulder. "I'd suggest you be gone by then!"
Behind me, I heard few people clapping, some laughing, most booing. Basically, the reactions seemed to be mixed. But I couldn't care less. I had just owned that racist old bastard in front of all of his prospective clients. And it felt pretty awesome.
Once I reached Center Street again, and turned back around to see that the crowd had already dispersed from the square. A pissed off Murphy was now standing atop a stepladder, untying the "Murphy's Hall" banner that hung between the lampposts. The demonstration had ended. I beamed inwardly; proud of the role I played in Murphy's public humiliation. That bastard deserved it!
"Making friends already, I see?" I heard a voice say from behind me.
I spun around to see none other than Eric casually leaning against a street lamp. I chocked back laughter as I looked up and down his leather-clad body. He wore black leather boots, tight black leather pants, and a black leather vest that exposed his bare chest. On top of his head, he wore a black leather cowboy hat.
"Holy fuck, what are you wearing?" I asked, between laughs.
"The latest in Kingdom fashion," he replied smiling. "Hey- don't mock it till you've tried it. I feel great!"
"You look ridiculous," I said playfully. "Where's June?"
"She's at daycare," he replied. "Look, Jodie- I think we should talk."
"Oh really?" I asked. "About what?"
"About the little show you just put on," he answered. "Before you go picking fights with everyone, I think you need to know a few things about this place." He straightened up and stepped toward me. "Let me get you some coffee. I know a place."
"Actually- let's do it another time," I replied. "I've gotta study."
"Study?" he asked, his face looking confused.
"Yeah," I answered brushing past him. "Long story. We'll catch up another time."
"Try to stay out of trouble!" Eric called after me. I turned back to him and flashed him the middle finger with a playful smile. He chuckled and stuck both of his middle fingers up back at me. Dork. But as I mentioned earlier, I happened like dorks.
And with that, I turned away headed back to the castle. All in all, it had been quite the interesting first morning. But I was more than ready to be anti-social again. Anti-socialism happened to be my natural habitat.
Minutes later, I was back in my suite. The cool air from the air-conditioning felt glorious. It wasn't necessarily hot outside, but I had always preferred cooler climates.
Walking over to the entry hall table, I picked up the gift box that I'd forgotten to open earlier. It was heavier than I expected it to be. I ripped off the wrapping paper and opened the lid to reveal a handwritten letter, several pamphlets and brochures, three books, a ring-gag, ball-gag, multiple coils of white rope, and half a dozen small padlocks with keys. The letter read:
"Welcome to The Kingdom! Please except this starters' gift package. Inside is everything you'll need in order to begin your stay. Please note that before a slave can be admitted into your custody, you are required to pass the 'Slave Owner Proficiency Exam'. Please see the included literature to learn what steps are necessary. You will be tested on material from the book entitled "A Comprehensive Guide to Slave Ownership". If you have any questions, please dial 0 or use our app to reach an operator. Thank you and welcome to The Kingdom!"
Ignoring everything else in the box, I grabbed the book that was mentioned in the letter and flipped through the pages. Damn, the book was long. 461 pages long, to be exact! Given that I wasn't the fastest reader, I realized that I didn't have much time to waste if I wanted to be prepared for this stupid exam by tomorrow.
I hated the prospect of even taking this test. I really had no interest in owning Brandy. But the thought of Brandy being left to the whims of that sadistic vampire for the next three months sounded unbearable. Saving Brandy from that fate was really the least I could do. What came after that, well... I'd figure that out later.
I carried the book into the suite's living quarters and plopped myself onto the couch. I opened the book to chapter one, page one. I let out a long sigh. It was going to be a loooong afternoon for me. But I had to bite the bullet. One test and then I could burn the damn book. 'You can do this, Ali' I thought. And with steadfast determination, I began to read...
Chapter 7 - Delta November Foxtrot
I was awoken to sound of the loud cheering outside my window. I blinked as bright morning sunlight streamed through the blinds, causing me to squint and bury my head beneath the blankets. My copy of 'A Comprehensive Guide to Slave Ownership' rested propped-open on the nightstand and a half-eaten box of Hawaiian pizza sat on top of the covers next to me. It had been a long night of studying and pizza happened to be the brain-food that I required to stay focused. Hey- while my metabolism still worked, I might as well take advantage of eating what I liked.
It had been a while since I could remember studying for anything. Despite my high aptitude scores in school, I had never been the greatest student. I consistently scored high enough to join the "gifted" classes, but ultimately ended up dropping down to standard learning due to my complete and utter lack of motivation. Uncle Henry had dropped out of high school in his senior year, which had always made me skeptical of just how important school really was. I remember being desperate to graduate and put all the "busy work" in the rear-view mirror.
But today's test was different. Unlike high school, the outcome of this particular test actually mattered. I literally held another person's fate in my hands. If I didn't pass, she'd likely end up in the custody of the woman named Annabelle and would spend the next three months being tortured. So, I had my motivation. And as a result, I was feeling pretty darn prepared.
I'd learned everything there was to learn about a slave's vital sign parameters, dietary needs, sleep cycles, and physiotherapy. Physiotherapy actually made up the largest portion of the book. Illustrated tutorials detailed everything from exercises to partner stretches to massages that restored blood flow to strained limbs. I was actually pretty impressed by the lengths these people had gone to educate their guests about health-related issues.
Another large portion of the book was dedicated to BDSM equipment. The text exhaustibly explained the various meanings behind different sounds and light patterns emitting from a slave's collar. There was also vast glossary of different types of knots and restraints. Towards the back were more disturbing tutorials like 'how to safely applying feeding tubes' and 'administering enemas'. I must admit, I skipped over those sections. I valued my Hawaiian pizza too much to lose my appetite...
I stretched out on the bed, arching my back and kicking the comforter off of me. With the exception of my pants, I was still fully clothed from the day prior. Ugh, I was going on three days wearing this same outfit. I really needed to get some new clothes. Pronto.
Groggily, I stood to my feet. They still ached from my ordeal in the woods but they were definitely feeling a bit better than they did the day before. I walked over to the window to see what all the commotion was outside. In the circle, there was a medium-sized crowd gathered around the center stage where two naked women wrestled each other, covered in mud. I rolled my eyes, turning and walked out the bedroom. On my way out, I grabbed the pizza box off of the bed and carried it into the kitchen.
Yawning, I put the box in the fridge and grabbed a mug from the kitchen cabinet. Then, I inserted a coffee pod into the Keurig and pressed start. Moments later, I was sipping on a piping hot pumpkin spice latte. Breakfast of champions. How did humans ever survive before Keurig machines?
Walking over to the edge of the indoor pool, I sat down on the edge, placing my feet in the water. The water was the perfect temperature. Not too hot, not too cold. I flexed my toes contently as I took my sweet time finishing my caffeine.
After I could no longer justify sitting there for any longer, I stood up and made my way back to the bedroom. Time to start the day, I thought. Today's game-plan was to go buy some new clothes, grab some lunch, head over to the kennel, take my stupid test, and then bail out Brandy. After that, who knew?
Grabbing a tote bag from the closet, I tossed in my book, phone, key card, and park map. Once I'd slipped on my jeans and boots, I tied my hair into a ponytail and headed out. The humid air smacked me in the face as I exited the castle suite. Damn, if it was already this hot at 10am, it was bound to be a stifling day. I needed some shorts ASAP. Glancing down at my map, I quickly located the section marked 'CLOTHING/APPAREL'.
One by one, I traveled across the faire, checking the shops off my list. It wasn't until the fourth one down that I finally managed to find a clothing store that sold something other than lingerie and leather/latex sex costumes. Not even looking at the price tags, I bought nearly a dozen different outfits, complete with undergarments and footwear. Hey- I was a millionaire now. For the first time in my life, everything was in my budget.
After I was finished shopping, I stopped to eat lunch again at Vern's Brisket and Vine. Or rather- Sally's BBQ. Sally's recipe may not have tasted quite as good as Vern's, but the BBQ was still good enough for me to return. After two sandwiches and a bit of last-minute studying, I was ready to head to the kennel. I exited the restaurant and maneuvered my way through the crowds of people on Centre Street. Though I had never been particularly confident when it came to academia, today I had an undeniable pep in my step. I was feeling well rested, well fed, and well prepared. I was ready to get this done.
At the kennel, a guard sat behind the reception desk. As I entered the lobby, he looked up at me and smiled. I recognized him as one of the same guards I had spoken to the day prior.
"Welcome back," he said pleasantly.
"Thanks," I replied, stepping up to the counter and dropping my shopping bags on the floor beside me. "Let's give this test another try, shall we?"
"That's the spirit," the guard said cheerily, reaching over into his filing cabinet to withdraw a manila folder. "Can I get you anything to drink before you start? Any water or tea?"
"No thanks," I replied, grabbing the folder from his hand. I bent over to pick up my shopping bags, but the guard raised his hand to stop me.
"Oh, you can leave those where they are," he said, standing to his feet. "I'll move them behind the counter until you're finished."
"Oh," I replied, straightening back up. "Thanks." Either this guy had recently graduated from etiquette school or he had a bit of a crush on me. I took mental note in the chance that someday I'd need a favor from a security guard.
Taking a seat in the same chair as before, I opened the folder to reveal the exam along with a pencil. Scanning through the first page, I immediately recognized that some of the multiple-choice questions had changed from the previous time I'd taken it. This made sense, given the sheer volume of material in the handbook I'd studied from. But I was undaunted. I answered each question with ease all the way through page 4. Page 5 threw me for a few loops. Page 8 had a question about enemas. And I'm pretty sure that the last page had a trick question in which all choices were actually correct. In total, the test took me no longer that 20 minutes.
I walked back up the guard behind the counter and handed him back my folder. "That should do it," I said confidently.
"Very good," he replied pleasantly. "Let's run this through the scan-tron and see how we did." He removed the papers from the folder and fed them into the machine next to his computer. Once complete, he began tapping away at his keyboard. "Well," he said, looking back up at me. "-you passed." I exhaled a bit in relief. "97%. Well done!" he added.
"Thanks," I replied.
"Now for the essay portion," he added.
My face fell as I stared at him.
"I'm just kidding," he replied, chuckling. "You're all good."
"Oh," I answered, forcing a smile. "Good one."
The guard smiled, visibly pleased with his lame attempt at flirting. Then, he grabbed several sheet of paper from a stack next to his computer.
"All I need now," he continued, as he placed the papers on the counter in front of me, "-is your autograph on each of these forms. This one essentially transfers Miss Brandy L. Michaels into your custody and states that you agree to all terms of temporary slave ownership. That you accept responsibility for the safety and welfare of your slave as long as she remains in your custody."
"Oookay," I replied uncertainly as I picked up the form and speed-read over it. "Sure," I added, using the pen on the counter to sign my name (Jodie's name) on the dotted line.
"Great," the guard replied, grabbing the form from in front of me. "This next form states that you accept the Kingdom's rules and regulations as dictated in our Code of Conduct as well as our Discipline and Corrections Handbook. You should have received both of those books in your welcome box. Signing below confirms that you acknowledge the jurisdiction of Kingdom security personnel and judicial authority to enforce those rules and regulations."
I gulped, realizing that I had not read either of the books he had mentioned. In fact, they remained untouched in the welcome box that was still seated on the entry hall table of the suite. "Sure," I replied, not wanting to give away that I had no idea what he was talking about. Once again, I signed the dotted line at the bottom of the page.
"And this last form states that you recognize the potential for turnabout. During your stay, either by permission OR against your will, your slave may succeed in overpowering you. Signing this confirms that you understand that risk as well as the Kingdom's lack of jurisdiction to intervene on your behalf should such a situation arise."
I blinked in shock, contemplating what he just said. "Wait, what?"
The guard chuckled, leaning back and spinning slightly in his swivel-chair. "Basically, if your slave gets the jump on you and manages to turn the tables, there's not a whole lot we, as security, can do," he explained. "For all we know, you two might have agreed to switch things up and play out a role-reversal fantasy. The only way we'd be able intervene would be if there was a rule infraction of some sort. If we should ever detect a violation of protocol, we'll always intervene. And once that happens, the reigns would ultimately be returned to whoever was supposed to hold power."
"Shit," I replied, scanning the form nervously. That tidbit certainly changed things...
"Look," the guard said in a reassuring voice, "I wouldn't worry too much about it. If Xena warrior princess were to ever turn the tables on you, it's only a matter of time before she'd inevitably slip up and break a rule. They always do. Most role-reversals I've witnessed are sorted out within a few hours because the slave doesn't knowing what the hell she's doing. They make a violation, our alarms go off, and then we show up on their doorstep and lay down the law.
I continued reading the form in silence.
"If it helps you sleep at night," the guard continued, "-most owners have a buddy system of sorts. Once every day or so, their buddy checks in on them to make sure that everything's normal. If you're worried about it, just find someone you can trust and make a deal."
"Okay," I replied, my pen hovering above the signature line.
This form was by far the scariest thing I'd read since I arrived. I wanted to believe that I could trust Brandy but the reality was that I hardly even knew her. And based on what I did know about her, she was definitely not the stereotypical submissive. I'd just have to be careful, I thought. My paranoia wasn't worth subjecting a person to the custody of Annabelle for three months.
Taking a deep breath, I put the pen to the paper and signed on the dotted line.
"Alright," the guard said, grabbing the completed form from the counter. "It looks like you're all set!" He placed all of the paperwork back in the manila folder and returned it to the filing cabinet it came from.
Leaning forward, he spoke into a silver microphone that sat on the desk, "Cellblock A, please prepare slave Brandy Michaels for pickup, Cellblock A, please prepare slave Brandy Michaels for pickup." Looking back at me, he added, "It shouldn't be more than a few minutes. You're free to take a seat while you wait."
"Nah, I'm alright standing," I answered, pulling out my phone to check the time. But as I looked through my home screen for something to keep me busy, I suddenly realized something... I hadn't been getting any notifications since I arrived. No emails, no missed calls, no facebook likes. It had been complete radio silence. I tapped on my facebook app, only to see a "NO SIGNAL" error pop up. The same message appeared on my mail and phone apps. But when I tapped the web browser app, it took me straight to my homepage.
"Uh, do you happen to know why none of my messaging apps are working?" I asked, holding up my phone. "I have full bars but I only get a signal on my web browser."
The guard's eyebrows raised, almost as if he was surprised that I didn't already know the answer. "Uh, yeah," he replied, "the Kingdom blocks most services for discretionary reasons."
"Oh," I answered hesitantly. "So, only my web browser works?"
"That and the Kingdom's official app," he answered, "You've downloaded that, right?"
"Uh, no," I said. "How do I do that?"
"Oh, you'll definitely want that," he replied. He leaned forward and grabbed a business card out of a cardholder located on the counter. Holding it up to me, he added, "Just go to this site and press download."
"That's it?" I asked.
"That's it," he replied smiling, "From there, you'll have maps, brochures, event schedules, you name it. You can also communicate with other guests straight from the app. And most importantly, it gives access to all of your slave's information. Her profile, food allergies, vitals, etc. You can zap her straight from the app, program other devices, and you can unlock her collar and restraints just by tapping the phone against them."
During the time he had explained everything, I had typed in the site address from the card and downloaded the app to my phone. When I opened it, the app asked me to place the QR code from my key-card within the camera phone's field of view. Pulling my lanyard out from behind my vest, I held the key-card beneath the phone so that the QR code lined up inside the box on the screen. A moment later, the logo of a castle appeared on the screen above the words 'The Kingdom', followed by the words, 'Welcome, Jodie O'Connell'. Then, a brief transition took me to the home screen.
My concentration was suddenly broken by the sound of metal doors sliding open on the back wall of the lobby. I looked up to see a naked Brandy standing in the doorway next to a latex-clad Annabelle. Brandy was wearing what she wore the first time we'd met. Her arms were restrained behind her in a black arm-binder with straps that cris-crossed over her chest. Her ankles wore unshackled leather cuffs. Her head was covered in a latex hood that had openings for her eyes, nose, and mouth. In her mouth was a large ring-gag. And to finish the ensemble off, she was wearing the despised chastity belt. Whether or not the butt-plug was attached, I couldn't tell.
"Welcome back!" Annabelle said gleefully as she led Brandy over to me by the leash. "I believe congratulations are in order. What was your final score on the exam?"
"She got a 97%," the guard interjected eagerly with a smile.
"What a smarty-pants!" Annabelle replied with faux excitement. I really despised this woman. Everything about her seemed to rub me the wrong way. Perhaps I'd have felt differently if our first interaction hadn't consisted of her stabbing my neck with a needle and forcing me into bondage.
"Well it looks like you'll be in good hands, then, eh love?" she asked giving Brandy's leash a little tug.
Brandy nodded submissively with her head bowed. "Ech aan," I heard her say quietly. I guessed that was gaglish for 'Yes ma'am'.
"Feet together," Annabelle ordered in a deeper voice. Brandy immediately adjusted her stance, pressing both ankles against each other. Damn, Annabelle really must have done a number on her. The Brandy I'd seen just one day earlier was more likely to respond to such a demand with a growl and attempted head-butt.
"Good girl," Annabelle responded cheerfully. "As you can see, we've managed to address some of her behavioral issues but slave Brandy still has a ways to go. Isn't that right?"
Again, Brandy nodded with her head bowed. "Ech aan," she replied again.
"Yes, she'll make a fine slave girl, indeed," Annabelle chuckled as she handed me the end of Brandy's leash. Nodding toward my phone, she added, "Oh, I sent you a message yesterday. Please read it over in private and let me know what you think."
Without responding, I took the leash from her and allowed it to fall to the floor. Stepping beside Brandy, I lifted my phone and tapped it against the mechanical buckle of her armbinder. The straps suddenly sprung off of her shoulders and hung loosely beside her. Bending over, I grabbed ahold of the tip of the armbinder and tugged downward. Brandy shimmied slightly, allowing the restraint to slide off of her. Moments later, she was stretching her free arms and flexing her joints.
"You won't be needing that anymore," I said, tossing the armbinder into one of my shopping bags. "Or this," I continued, tapping the phone against the front of her chastity belt. Once the belt's mechanism unlocked, she pulled the contraption over her hips and stepped out of it one foot at a time. I took it from her hands and added it to the bag.
Annabelle blinked, looking taken aback. I imagine she hadn't expected to see her powerless slave regaining her freedoms so quickly after her release. Seeing the look of irritation on Annabelle's face was surprisingly satisfying. I could only imagine how enjoyable it must have been for Brandy.
I proceeded to tap my phone against Brandy's wrists and ankle cuffs allowing them to unlock and fall to the floor. I gathered everything up and tossed it all into the same shopping bag holding her other restraints.
"What... May I ask what are you doing?" Annabelle asked looking clearly unnerved.
"No, you may not," I replied flippantly. "Brandy's no longer your concern. Don't worry about us."
Annabelle's eyebrows raised in surprise at my response. "Very well," she replied coldly.
Brandy seemed to be having difficulty unbuckling her gag, so I walked behind her and helped her remove it. Once her mouth was free, she peeled the latex hood off of her head, sighing in relieve. She looked at me with a weak smile, her face flushed and her hair damp and matted from the hood.
"Thank you," she said breathily.
"No problem," I responded. I reached down and grabbed an outfit and sandals from one of the shopping bags and handed it to Brandy. "Go ahead and put this on."
Brandy quickly snatched the clothes from my hands and began to dress herself. "Thanks," she replied.
"Please read my message," Annabelle interrupted forcefully. Her face was now stern and unpleasant. "I think you'll find it quite intriguing."
"Actually," I replied turning toward Annabelle. "Could you please excuse us?"
Annabelle's nostrils flared as her eyes pierced into me from behind her spectacles. I could only guess that she was not used to receiving such indifference. Annabelle struck me as the type of person who relished receiving the royal treatment. But if she had anything to say about it, she kept it to herself. She promptly spun away and exited through the doorway she had entered from, her high heels clicking behind her. The large metal doors slid shut, leaving Brandy and I alone with the guard behind the desk.
After Brandy finished getting dressed and fluffing her hair, I picked up several bags and asked, "Would you mind helping me carry these back to the castle?"
"Of course," she replied, quietly. She knelt down and picked up the remaining bags off the floor.
The two of us began walking toward the exit. "Thank you," I said to the guard.
"My pleasure," he replied smiling. "Have a nice day."
As we exited the building, the stifling hot air smacked us in the faces. Damn, it had to be 90 degrees outside! After the doors closed behind us, Brandy looked over at me. The expression on her face could only be described as 'impressed shock'.
"Wow," she said, chuckling. "Um, that was amazing."
"That was pretty satisfying, wasn't it?" I asked, grinning back at her.
"I really don't know what to say," she answered. "Thank you so much."
"Don't mention it." I replied. "We're in the castle suite straight ahead. It's too hot out here. We can catch up in the air conditioning."
"Deal," Brandy replied.
"Are you hungry?" I asked as I started to walk.
"Starving," She answered.
"Are you good with left-over Hawaiian pizza?" I asked.
"Definitely," She replied.
We got a lot of looks from men and women as we pushed our way through the crowded Centre Street. A lot more looks than usual, anyway. Even with her disheveled hair and no make-up, Brandy was drop-dead gorgeous. And if I wasn't getting enough looks of jealousy before, I certainly was now.
Within minutes, we had reached the front door of the suite. Stepping inside, the air conditioning felt amazing. I kicked my boots off and dropped the shopping bags on the floor of the foyer. Brandy followed suit.
"Holy shit, this place is amazing," Brandy mused as she scanned the suite. "I've seen pictures, but never in person."
"Not too bad, huh?" I asked, chuckling.
Brandy stuck her finger beneath her collar to scratch her neck. Making eye contact with me, she asked, "Would you mind undoing this for a minute? My neck's been itchy for days."
"Of course," I replied, lifting my smartphone and tapping the front of her collar. A green LED light began blinking on her collar and the locking mechanism unhinged at the front. Brandy pulled the collar off and began scratching furiously at her neck, groaning in relief.
"Unfortunately, it can only stay off for a few minutes or we'll get flagged by security," I said, placing my phone in my back pocket. "Sorry."
"No, it's fine. I only need a minute," she replied as she continued to scratch.
"Look, I know you came here voluntarily and everything, but I'm really sorry for all that you've been through," I said sympathetically. "I'm sure the kennel... with Annabelle... was no picnic."
Brandy's eyes suddenly appeared glossy, almost as if she was on the verge of tears.
"Yeah... it's definitely not the Hilton," she said with a forced laugh. "Thank you so much for getting me out of there. I really don't know how much longer I could have handled it."
I shrugged, replying, "It's the least I could do. I'm just sorry it took me so long. I didn't know anything about the test or-"
"Please," Brandy interrupted, waving her hand dismissively. "As bad as it was, it's still preferable to ending up on the auction block."
"Actually," I replied, "I'm not sure you'd have ever made it to the auction block." Brandy cocked her eyebrow questioningly. "That Annabelle woman wanted to keep you for herself. She basically begged me to sell you to her yesterday. That's probably what her message to me is about."
Seemingly overcome with gratitude, Brandy stepped forward and wrapped her muscular arms around me in a firm bear hug. I blinked in surprise, unsure of how to react to her spontaneous embrace. I was never much of a hugger. But sensing that Brandy needed some love, I returned the embrace, awkwardly patting her on the back. This was the first time I'd seen any amount emotional vulnerability from Brandy. Her softer side was shaping up to be surprisingly endearing.
"Thank you, Jodie," Brandy whispered, releasing me from her embrace.
"Sure thing," I replied awkwardly.
"And I'm sorry," she added.
"For what?" I asked confused. I suddenly felt something cold against the nape of my neck. Before I could process what was happening, Brandy's hands had moved to my throat. The cold feeling against my skin was none other than the straps of Brandy's collar! She was putting her collar on me! I shoved her away, but my reaction was a fraction of a second too late. The mechanism clicked beneath my chin, securing both ends of the collar together around my neck.
"What the FUCK?!" I yelled as Brandy stumbled backwards and fell to the floor. As she scrambled to her feet, I tugged furiously at the collar, but it didn't budge. I needed my phone to unlock it! I reached into my back pocket, only to realize that my phone was no longer there! My heart raced as I spun around, frantically scanning the floor. Where the hell was it! Brandy had risen to her feet and appeared to be looking through the shopping bags as well as the welcome box that sat on the entry hall table. Unclear of what she was looking for, I continued scrambling around my side of the foyer, desperate to find my phone. For fuck's sake, it had to be here. I just had it!
All of the sudden, I let out an involuntary shriek and collapsed to the floor as electricity coursed through me from my collar. Landing painfully on the marble floor, I could see that Brandy was holding my phone and had her finger pressed firmly on the screen. How did she have it? She must have stolen it from my pocket when we were hugging! And all it took was a tap of a button to put me down. DAMMIT!
I continued to twitch on the floor as Brandy scrambled over to me and applied her cuffs around each of my wrists. I did my best to pull away but between the weakening effect of the electricity as well as Brandy's physical superiority, it was only a matter of seconds before each cuff locked around my wrists. Brandy had also apparently found a padlock from the welcome box and used it to secure the cuffs together behind my back.
"You BITCH!" I screamed, rolling onto my side. "What the hell is wrong with you?! I just saved your ass!!"
Brandy stood up to her feet and exhaled in relief. "And I appreciate that," she replied calmly. "I really do. But I needed to ditch the collar. I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?!" I screamed. "You're SORRY?!! I just spent the last 24 hours studying my ass off so I could get you out of that hell-hole and this is how you thank me?!"
"I know- it seems fucked up," She said as she walked into the kitchen. "But there are things you're not aware of."
"What?" I spat. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!"
Brandy stuck her face in the sink and began gulping water straight from the faucet.
"Honestly, the less you know, the better," she answered, with her back still to me.
"Bullshit!" I hollered, as I awkwardly stood to my feet. "Untie me NOW and tell me what the fuck is going on!"
Brandy turned around and leaned back on the granite countertop, catching her breath. Glancing back down at my phone, she started tapping on the screen and held it up to her ear. I stared at her in disbelief. Who the fuck was she calling?! And how was she even making a phone call? The phone app didn't even work...
After a few seconds, Brandy spoke quietly into the phone, "Delta, November, Foxtrot." I stared at her, perplexed. "Affirmative. Please advise liaison to stand down."
"Helloooo!" I shouted, stealing a glance from Brandy. She turned away from me, plugging her other ear in an attempt to focus on her call.
"Warden is neutralized," She continued quietly. "Commencing protocol 5 dash 9. I repeat- 5 dash 9." After pausing for several seconds, she added, "Standby for inbox transfer." She pulled the phone away from her ear and began tapping away at the screen. After several seconds, she lifted the phone back to her ear. "Please confirm receipt... Copy that. Awaiting package at castle one. I repeat- castle one... Going dark." And with that, Brandy hung up the phone.
"What the fuck is going on?" I repeated, causing Brandy to make eye-contact with me once more. "What are you, some kind of spy?"
"I'm sorry," she replied. "You seem really sweet. And you really don't deserve this."
"No shit I don't!" I retorted.
"I promise you- if there was a better option, I'd take it," she added.
"A better option for what? What does that even mean?!" I challenged.
I couldn't believe this was happening. I couldn't believe I was back in a collar and restraints! Of all the scenarios I could have imagined, this was honestly the last thing I ever expected to happen. I felt sick to my stomach. How could I have been so foolish?! What was going to happen to me?!
"Will you please tell me what's going on?" I asked angrily.
Ignoring me, Brandy picked up a shopping bag stepped back toward me. Reaching into the bag, Brandy pulled out the leash and raised the clasp toward my collar.
"Fuck that!" I yelled, stepping away from her.
Placing her hand on her hip, Brandy calmly replied, "If you cooperate, I promise you won't get hurt."
"You're not putting a fucking leash on me!" I hollered. "Get me out of this NOW!"
Expressionless, Brandy lunged at me and grabbed my shirt, pulling me in close to her. Dammit! How were my reflexes so pathetically slow today? I stood there helplessly as I felt her clasp the leash to the D-ring on my collar.
"Get the fuck OFF of me, bitch!" I spat, twisting away as best I could. "You're not gonna get away with this!"
Grabbing hold of my upper arms, she easily spun me to face away from her and forced me against the wall of the foyer. The side of my face was pressed up against the stone veneer wall. Then, I felt Brandy's hand slip into the front pocket of my jeans where I'd stashed her ring-gag and latex hood. My eyes widened in horror as I saw the ring-gag lifted up my face.
"NO!" I shrieked as she began to work the ring into my mouth. "NO! FUCK! God-damph uhgt! Naaugh! Geraaaugh!"
"Shhhhhhh," she replied calmly as she began pulling the latex hood over my head. I struggled as best I could, but it was only a matter of seconds before my head was completely encased in skin-tight latex. She continued to tug at it until my eyes, nose, and mouth lined up behind their designated openings. Then, I felt her gather my hair that was resting on the back of my neck and tuck it up inside the base of the hood. Great, I thought, she's got OCD...
Not eager to go down without a fight, I tried to kick her behind me, but her knees pressed against the inside of my thighs, keeping my legs spread. Whoever this woman was, she must have been trained in hand-to-hand combat. I may not have been the most athletic person, but the process of subduing me was proving to be far simpler than I would have liked. Moments later, the straps of my gag were fastened tightly behind my head. I worked my jaw to dislodge the ring from behind my teeth, but it was useless. For the second time this week, I was ring-gagged, hooded, and bound at the mercy a truly heartless bitch.
I growled as I felt Brandy straighten up and pull me away from the wall by the leash. I tugged away from her, only to feel the whiplash of Brandy yanking harder in the opposite direction. I hollered nonsense at her as I gave in and walked in the direction she was leading me.
Once we were back in the kitchen, Brandy began furiously opening drawers, apparently looking for something. After the fifth one, she found what she was looking for. Pulling out a pair of scissors, she stepped over to me and began cutting my clothes. I screamed at her, pulling away, but she merely pulled me in tighter by the leash. I was helpless to stop her as my Pink Floyd t-shirt and vest were cut to pieces and pulled off me. Last to go were my jeans, bra, and panties. I scowled at her in hatred as she tossed my shredded clothing on the floor. I wanted to tear her to pieces and claw her stupid face off, but with my hands locked behind my back, there was absolutely nothing I could do. I was powerless.
Brandy's silence was truly unnerving. At least when Tasha had me in the woods, she talked to me. Despite my being gagged, I was able to communicate and she typically gave me some sort of reply. With Brandy's chilling silence, I honestly had no idea what to expect. I had no idea where her head was at. I was honestly clueless as to where this all was heading.
She then pulled me over to the couch and told me to, "Sit." Instead of doing as she asked, I just stood there, scowling at her. Impatiently, she pushed me down onto the couch, causing me to grunt. She leaned over with her hands on her knees so that we were eye-level.
"I'm going to put the ankle cuffs on you," she explained. "If you resist or try to kick me, I'll be forced to shock you. Do you understand?" I merely glared back.
Brandy knelt down in front of me and attached the black leather cuffs to each of my bare ankles. Fearful of having my neck pelted with electricity again, I abstained from fighting her. There was no use at this point. I felt a click from each cuff, indicating that they had locked in place. Brandy pushed down on my thigh to help her up to her feet.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked. But with the gag now in my mouth, my question sounded more like, "Aie all oo 'ooig dech?"
Brandy ignored me and gave my leash a tug, forcing me to stand up and follow her lead. Silently, she led me to the master bathroom and unclipped the leash from my collar.
"Do your business," she ordered. I simply stood there, scowling at her. Do my business? Who the hell did she think she was? I wasn't a fucking dog. She turned and exited the bathroom. "It'll be the last chance you have for a while," she called behind her.
Fuming, I glanced around the room desperate to find anything that I could use to MacGyver my way out of this. Unable to spot anything useful, I spun back toward the doorway. Unfortunately, Uncle Henry and I had chosen to forego doors between the master bath and bedroom in favor of a more "open" floor plan. If we had installed a door, I'd have seized this opportunity to slam it shut and lock Brandy out.
Walking over to the toilet, I sat down and begrudgingly relieved myself. Just as it had been with Tasha, it was humiliating to be told to pee. And it was even more humiliating to actually follow the order. With my hands still restrained behind me, wiping was a more challenging task than usual, but I managed to get it done. I continued to sit there, wracking my brain for a way out of this.
Brandy returned a few minutes later, walked right over to me and grabbed the D-ring of my collar. With her other hand, she reached down flushed the toilet. Good thing I was finished, I thought.
Pulling me up to my feet, she led me back into the bedroom and over to my bed. The sheets and covers had all been pulled off and thrown on the floor. My eyes widened as I spotted ropes tied to each of the four posters. I pulled away, protesting unintelligibly into my gag. What was she going to do? Tie me to the bed and have her way with me?
Brandy tugged the leash again, yanking my head forward. Determined to fight her now, I lifted my foot to try kicking her in the stomach. But her reflexes were fast and she managed to catch my ankle mid-kick. Gripping my foot, she circled around me, forcing me to hop awkwardly on my free foot while she turned me to face away from the bed. Then, Brandy released my foot and pushed me backwards, causing me to lose my balance and topple backwards onto the bed.
Stepping up to me, I felt Brandy's hands grip my underarms and hoist me further toward the middle of the bed. I continued trying to kick her, but she was practically bud-up against my sex between my legs. I had no clear angle to land a blow.
With lightning speed and precision, Brandy then grabbed ahold of my right ankle and fed the rope from the bed's poster through the D-ring of my cuff. Within seconds, my leg was pulled taught and restrained to the corner of the bed. Within seconds, the same happened to my left ankle.
Brandy walked around to the side of the bed and picked up my phone off of the nightstand, holding it above me like a prop. "I'm going to unlock your wrists. If you fight me, I will shock you. Can I trust you to behave?" She asked.
I hollered at her through my gag. Who did she think she was to order me to behave? Brandy turned the phone to face her and began tapping on the screen. Moments later, electricity pelted my neck. I shrieked in pain as I twitched in agony.
"Please don't make me do that again," she said, almost as if the act of torturing me was somehow a put-off for her. "When I unlock your wrists, can I count on you not to fight me?" I growled at her, still panting from the electric shock. "Like I said before, if you cooperate, I promise you won't get hurt. Once I restrain your arms to the bed, you have my word that I won't lay another finger on you. Deal?"
Still not wanting to validate her, I merely turned my head away. Brandy must have taken that as an agreement because she rolled me over onto my shoulder began unlocking the padlock that held my wrist-cuffs together. With my cuffs now unconnected, Brandy pulled my right hand from behind my back and raised it over my head toward the corner of the bed. Not eager to get shocked again, and pessimistic about the success I'd have at resistance, I decided to let her do as she wished.
I felt her feed the rope through the D-ring of my cuff and tug it tight, which pulled my arm taught to the poster. After double-knotting the rope just outside of my reach, Brandy stood to her feet and circled the bed to repeat the process with my left arm. I was now tied in a strict spread-eagle position, unable to move my limbs more than a few inches. Brandy leaned over me, testing each knot to make sure that I was secure. Then, without saying a word, she hopped off the bed and quickly exited the room.
I tugged ferociously at my bonds, but the only thing that managed to do was tire me out and cause the leather cuffs to dig painfully into my wrists and ankles. After about a minute, I finally gave up and relaxed, resolving myself to settle for glaring helplessly up at the ceiling.
Several minutes passed until Brandy finally walked back into the bedroom. Craning my head up, I could see that she had changed into a different outfit of mine. And in one hand, she held a slice of my left over Hawaiian pizza. Bitch. I rolled my eyes and let my head fall back onto the bed in resentment.
Despite the fact that she was much more muscular than I was, we were still roughly the same size and the clothes I had bought for myself seemed fit her adequately. The biggest difference between our body types was our breast-size. Her boobs were considerably larger than mine and judging by the outline of her nipples through the t-shirt, I could tell that she was not wearing one of my new bras. I fumed silently as she chewed her pizza and pulled off the tags to her bleached jean shorts with her free hand.
"I need to run an errand," Brandy said between bites as she tossed her stupid hair over her stupid shoulder. "If there's an emergency, just hold your breath for 30 seconds. I'll get a notice through the app that something's wrong and I'll come straight back. Okay?" For someone who was supposed to be a slave, she definitely seemed to know her stuff...
She stepped up to the bed beside me, prompting me to turn my head away from her. Then, I felt her lift my head with her hand and push a pillow beneath.
"I know it doesn't mean anything to you, but I truly am sorry about all of this," she added. I huffed in disbelief. Who the hell was she kidding? If she were actually sorry, she wouldn't be doing this! I remained silent as she exited the bedroom.
"Be back shortly," I heard her call from foyer. Moments later, I heard the front door to the suite open and close.
I let out a big sigh. My head was still reeling from trying to process everything that had happened over the last 20 minutes. I had no idea what to make of Brandy. She seemed like a completely different person than the woman I'd met in the woods. The sarcastic, bitchy, brash woman from few days ago now appeared to be calculated, reserved, and highly intelligent. But perhaps her most unnerving quality was her raw confidence. And in my experience of managing people, this confidence only came with individuals who knew exactly what they were doing...
There was obviously much more than met the eye when it came to Brandy. Between the cryptic phone call, her chilling stoicism, and now her civility, shown by propping my head up with a pillow, it was becoming increasingly difficult to sort out what kind of villain I was dealing with. As much as I despised and resented her for her heartless betrayal, she was a puzzle that I felt compelled to solve... What was her motivation? What were her plans for me? What type of "errand" was she running? The mystery of it all was making my head spin.
But first things first. Right now, I was naked, gagged, hooded, and tied spread-eagle to the bed. The puzzle of Brandy L. Michaels would have to wait. Because, as the kennel guard had explained to me earlier, there was nothing that security could do at this point to help. It was up to me to figure a way out of this mess. If Brandy was telling the truth, I only had a brief amount of time to execute my escape. However long that gave me was unclear. But the clock was ticking and the stakes had never been higher. I had to escape. The alternative was simply not an option that I was willing to consider...
Chapter 8 - Hazardous Plants and Extracts
Naked, gagged, hooded, and tied spread-eagle, I tugged ferociously at my bonds. It had probably been 20 minutes since Brandy had left and I was still nowhere closer to freedom. The pillow had slid out from under my head, giving me a clearer view of the restraints that bound me.
After having studied dozens of types of knots the night prior, I could see that Brandy had used a variation of what looked like a "bowline on a bight" knot to restrain each of my limbs to the corners of the bed. This meant that the only knot was bud-up against the bed's poster. And since this was a king-sized bed, and I was positioned squarely in the middle, that made the knot over a foot out of my reach. I had managed to shift my body a few inches toward my dominant hand, but I was still well out of reach. I shouted in rage as I thrashed about in tantrum. I hated this! Brandy could return any second!
To make matters worse, by tugging and pulling so hard against the ropes, I was pretty sure that I'd only managed to cinch the knots tighter. Even if I could get my fingers around them, I'm not sure I'd have a chance at prying knot apart. I arched my back and shrieked pointlessly at the ceiling. I still couldn't believe this was happening! I kept hoping that I was going to wake up and find that this had all been a terrible dream.
Just then, I heard the door to the suite open. My heart dropped and I instantly felt a sob forming in the base of my throat. My chance to escape had expired. Brandy had returned.
"Housekeeping!" I heard a chirpy high-pitched voice call out.
My spirits suddenly spiked. Housekeeping! I craned my head upward and hollered into my gag. It wasn't Brandy! The sound of heels clicked across the foyer toward the bedroom.
"Hello?" the voice called from the doorway. A dark, curly haired woman leaned in. It was none other than the head of Katie from check-in!
"Aieee?!" I squealed into my gag
"Why, hello there, little one," Katie said pleasantly. As she stepped through the doorway, I could see that she wore a revealing sexy maid's outfit just like the woman from who had visited the previous day. Around her neck was a burgundy employee choker with her nametag in the middle.
Hallelujah! I exhaled in relief and relaxed in my bonds. After sticking up for her at check-in, surely she would help me out of this!
But as Katie stepped into the room, I could tell that something was off... She laid a stack of fresh towels on the dresser and turned to face me with a faux pouty face.
"Aww," she chuckled. "You look so unhappy!"
"Aiee! Hall ee awogh dicht!" I shouted unintelligibly at her. Katie smiled as she stepped casually up to the foot of the bed.
"Aw, don't worry, sweetie," she said as she placed her hand on my bare foot. "I'm sure Mistress Jodie will be back to tend to your needs in no time," she cooed playfully.
Holy shit, she didn't recognize me! My heart sank as I suddenly remembered the latex hood covering the majority of my face. I frantically shook my head back and forth, hollering nonsense into my gag. Katie just giggled and walked around the bed to inspect my restraints. I continued to holler and thrash about, desperate to get through to Katie.
"Wow. It looks like Mistress Jodie certainly knows her knots!" she cooed in admiration.
I groaned, throwing my head back and forth in frustration. Katie took a seat on the bed beside me.
"Here," she said as she reached over and readjusted the pillow to rest once more beneath my head. "There we go."
I continued to plead my case, hollering desperately through the gag and tugging at my bonds. I had to figure out a way to convey to Katie that I was Jodie. She HAD to help me! She was literally the only one who could. But a stupid latex hood stood between me and my freedom. Why the fuck did Brandy have to put the hood on?!
"Aw, sweetie," Katie mused compassionately. "Your lips look so chapped. Hold on a sec. Let me get you some chapstick." She lifted up her skirt and reached her fingers into what looked like a hidden pocket on the inside. Pulling out a small tin pillbox, her face grimaced as she struggled to pry it open. Seconds later, the lid sprang open, sending the contents of the pillbox flying through the air. I rolled my eyes as breath mints showered down on me, along with a tube of chapstick, and what looked like... wait- were those marijuana joints? I tilted my head down to get a closer look. Yep- landing on the bed beside me were three unmistakable rolls of cannabis.
"Shit!" Katie whispered. She quickly snatched up them up and returned them to the pillbox. "Those aren't mine, I swear," she stammered, as her cheeks suddenly became bright red. She leaned across me and continued gathering all of the breath mints off the bed. "I've never even used marijuana. I found those in one of the rooms I cleaned earlier." I could see her fingers trembling in embarrassment. "Technically, I'm supposed to report any illegal drugs that I find during my rounds, but the punishment is a minimum sentence of seven days in the kennel. Seven days!" Katie shuddered dramatically. "And the slave has to serve the same sentence as her master! Yeah- I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I just confiscated them so I could destroy after my shift ends."
Though Katie appeared genuine in her explanation, I honestly couldn't have cared less who the pot belonged to. I had much bigger things on my mind than Katie and a few joints.
"Hold still," she continued as she removed the cap to the chapstick and lifted it to my mouth.
I sighed in irritation as Katie applied the balm to my gagged lips. I know she wasn't trying to patronize me, but it still felt pretty demeaning.
"There we go," she said with a half smile. "You know, I met your Mistress a few days ago. I really think you lucked out by getting her." I groaned loudly. How the hell was I going to get through to this nitwit? "She actually did me a huge favor," she continued, returning the chapstick back to her pillbox while she talked. "I was the one who checked her in back at the train station. I guess I was being too loud, because my boss came over and reprimanded me. But Jodie intervened on my behalf. I'm pretty sure my boss was about to fire me or transfer me to another department. But she told him off right in front of everyone and insisted that I say. It was..." Katie shivered giddily, as if recalling a pleasant dream, "-it was pretty incredible."
"UGGGH!" I groaned loudly in frustration. Katie jumped in surprise. I had heard all that I could bear. "I KNOW! I KNOW! THAT WAS ME!" I tried to articulate. Only, with the gag in my mouth, it came out something like-"AI-OH! AI-OH! AMP ULPH HEEE!" I continued to holler as loud as I could, utterly desperate now to communicate.
"Oh sweetie," Katie said, smiling. "I'd trade places with you in a heartbeat." She patted my abdomen softly as she stood to her feet. "A million dollar paycheck and getting to be a slave to a gorgeous red-head for three months... Mmm. To be completely honest, if I got someone like Jodie as a mistress, I'm not sure I'd ever want to leave-"
Just then, I heard the sound of the front door opening. Katie's face turned sharply toward the bedroom doorway. She hurriedly lifted her skirt again and stowed the pillbox in the hidden pocket. She straightened her uniform, stood up straight, and pulled her curly hair behind her ears. She skipped giddily toward the doorway, propping up her breasts with her hands. It certainly seemed like she'd become smitten with me. But as she stood in the doorway, the smile on her face suddenly vanished.
"Oh- hello" Katie said awkwardly as Brandy entered the room.
Brandy stopped in her tracks. She was holding several shopping bags in her hands. She stared at Katie, stone-faced.
"...Can I help you?" Brandy replied suspiciously.
"Oh- sorry, I uh, I'm house-keeping. I'm Katie-" Katie said, pointing awkwardly at her name tag on her neck. "I was just dropping off some linens." She motioned her hand towards the towels on the dresser. Brandy stared at her silently. "Doooo.... uh, do you need anything before I go? Does anything need to be cleaned, or-?"
"No," Brandy replied bluntly, not breaking her stoic gaze with Katie. After a moment of awkward silence, Brandy added, "Bye."
"Oh, right. Sorry," Katie replied, walking past Brandy with her head down. Brandy's eyes followed Katie as she walked away. At the doorway, Katie stopped and turned back toward Brandy. "Have a nice day, Miss-..."
"O'Connell," Brandy replied. "Jodie O'Connell."
It was at this moment that I saw the lights finally dawn on Katie. I held my breath as I watched Katie's eyes widen. She froze like a deer in headlights. Her face had drained of all color and looked as if she'd seen a ghost. There was little doubt that she knew what was going on. Albeit, she was now too late to actually do anything. At this point, short of going to security and pleading for them to intervene, I really wasn't sure what she could do to help...
"Well, it was nice to meet you, Miss O'Connell," she said, breaking the silence with a forced smile. She glanced back over to me, visibly nervous. "I'll- uh, give you two some privacy," she added. "Bye." And with that, she turned and quickly exited the room, her heels clicking behind her.
Brandy looked over and studied me with what looked to be mild suspicion. I scowled back at her silently wearing my best poker face. Moments later, I heard the front door close, leaving me alone once more with my captor. Without saying anything, Brandy stepped into the bathroom and laid her shopping bags on the floor. Then, she exited the bedroom altogether.
Dammit, this mysterious silent shit was really starting to piss me off. I hated not knowing what my future had in store. It was unnerving not to being able to get a read on this bitch. From what I could gather, contrasting from her bio that I read on the train, she didn't appear to be a sadist or masochist. While she had been full of sass and spunk during our previous encounters, she now carried herself like an executive or some sort of intelligence operative. She had either been pretending before or managing a multiple-personality disorder. Considering her cryptic phone call from earlier, it was almost certainly the former.
I craned my head upward as I heard something being dragged from the other room. Moments later, Brandy entered the room pulling a wooden armchair behind her. She sat the chair at the foot of the bed and disappeared once more into the bathroom. For the next several minutes, I could hear her unpacking and tinkering with the contents of her shopping bags.
I stubbornly gave several last minute tugs to my bonds. But Katie had been right. Brandy certainly did seem to know how to tie her knots.
After about a minute, Brandy stepped back into the room and walked over to stand next to me.
"I'm going to untie you now," she explained calmly. "Once you're free, please take a seat in that chair over there. If you fight me or try to escape, I'll have no choice but to shock you. Understand?"
I rolled my eyes and sighed dramatically through my gag. The response must have been sufficient for Brandy because she proceeded to untie the ropes from the bed posters at each corner. First, at my ankles, and then at my wrists. Once my hands were free, I reached over and began pulling the ropes out from the D-rings of my cuffs.
"Leave them," Brandy said, grabbing my wrist. I shot a glare at her, which prompted her to tighten her grip. "Leave them, and take a seat," she repeated authoritatively.
For a split second, I contemplated lunging at Brandy. I would have loved nothing more than to throw down in this moment. But with the ropes still attached to all of my cuffs, it would have been only too easy for Brandy to simply retie me. So, I choose to comply. For now... I stood to my feet and walked over the armchair at the foot of the bed. Dramatically, I sat down, folding my arms across my naked chest.
"Thank you," Brandy said.
She stepped over to me and grabbed ahold of the rope still attached to my right wrist cuff. Then, she began to wrap the rope around the arm of the chair. I shrieked into the gag, yanking my hand away, and jumping to my feet. She wanted to tie me to the chair? Bullshit! I thought she wanted to sit so we could talk! But with lightning speed, Brandy had stepped back and whipped my smartphone out of her back pocket. She held it up warningly.
"Cooperate, or I will put you down," Brandy ordered in a deep voice.
"Ai hot awig oowet oo ai me ackot!!" I hollered unintelligibly at her.
"Take your seat," Brandy repeated. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you force me to." I could see that there was zero emotion in her eyes. Just ice-cold determination. "Now," she ordered in a louder voice.
After glaring at her for several seconds, I sat back down in defeat. I hated this!!!! As long as Brandy was in possession of my phone, she had the upper hand. I eyed the device with loathing. Who could have predicted that my shitty scratched-up Android would become the key to my future?
Upon sitting back down, Brandy began to wrap the ropes around the arms and legs of the chair, securing me in my seated position. After the last knot cinched tight, Brandy straightened up and stepped back.
"Thank you," Brandy said softly.
"UCK OO!" I spat back at her. Brandy ignored me and pulled out a pair of scissors from her pocket.
"I'm going to cut your hood off now, okay?" I simply glared back at her.
Brandy proceeded to insert the blade of the scissors beneath the bottom of my latex hood. I held my breath as I felt the metal of the long blade slide against my throat. I closed my eyes, praying silently that she wouldn't accidentally slice my neck open. After a few seconds, she had cut a line straight down the middle of my face, past my mouth opening, along my nose, and right up to my forehead. Then, she pulled the flaps of the hood away from each other, exposing my skin. Moments later, she tugged the latex off of my head altogether, freeing my face from it's rubber prison. Now if only she could do the same for my damn gag.
Then, Brandy stepped around the chair to stand behind me. I squealed in surprise as I felt the chair tipping backwards. My weight was now balanced on the chair's two hind legs and I was being dragged toward the bathroom. As soon as I passed through the doorway, my nostrils were filled with the overwhelming scent of bleach and peroxide. What the hell? I twisted as best as I could to see what the smell was coming from but the high back of the chair hindered my view.
But my curiosity was short-lived. Brandy spun the armchair around to have me face the bathroom mirror and counter. On the counter was an opened box that read 'ARORA Hair-Coloring Kit' and a clear plastic container filled with white goo. Off to the opposite end of the counter was a styrofoam mannequin head with a long red wig perched on top.
It took me a split second to process everything that I was looking at. But once I had, it's safe to say that I officially LOST. MY. SHIT. This bitch was planning on switching places with me!!! She was fixing to bleach my red hair to be blonde like hers! And based on the red wig on the counter, I could only guess that she planned to wear that in order to pass herself off as ME!!! Oh HELL NO!!!!!
"OO UCKID ICT!!" I shrieked at her. I continued screaming louder than I'd ever screamed before. I tugged and twisted with every ounce of my might. This was NOT going to happen. I wasn't going to let it! I didn't care if she shocked me to oblivion. I was prepared to fight to the death to stop her from doing this.
Suddenly, my neck was pelted with electricity. I shrieked as my back arched involuntarily. My entire body trembled as the shocks continued to radiate from my collar. Finally, after a few seconds, it ended, causing me to slump over, panting.
"Stop!" Brandy ordered, grabbing a fist-full of my hair and yanking it backwards. I glared at her through the mirror in front of us, snarling like a rabid animal. I twisted my head back and forth, desperate to pull my hair from her grip. But I could feel her grip tighten and pull back harder, making me wince in pain. But pain was no longer a deterrent for me. Now, I was here to fight.
Seeing that I was not giving in, I saw Brandy lift her phone again and tap on the screen. More electricity coursed through my neck, causing me to tense and quiver uncontrollably. Brandy released my hair and stepped in front of the chair to face me. She leaned over so that her face was right in front of mine. We were so close that I could feel her breath on my cheek.
"This is going to happen," she said coldly. "Whether you like it or not."
Seizing my opportunity, I lunged my head forward. Brandy leaned back, but not quickly enough. My forehead made hard contact with her mouth, causing her to yelp in pain.
"Ugh, dammit!" she shouted, raising her hand to her mouth as she stumbled backward. As she straightened up, she pulled her hand away from her mouth to reveal a bloody grimace. I had busted her bottom lip! As proud as that made me, the look of rage that was now on Brandy's face sent chills down my spine.
"Shit!" she said as she turned toward the mirror and saw the blood. She spat a mouthful of blood into the sink before turning back toward me. "Now you've done it, bitch." I saw her lift her cellphone, and I clenched my eyes shut in preparation for another round of shocks.
Just then, I heard loud knocking at the front door of the suite, followed by the sound of the door opening. Both Brandy and I turned to look in shock.
"Miss O'Connell, this is security!" a male voice called out.
"What the fuck?" Brandy muttered, her face contorted in confusion. She grabbed a hand-towel from the hook on the wall and frantically wiped the blood off of her face and hands. After briefly inspecting herself in the mirror, she walked past me and out of the bathroom.
"Uh, can I help you?!" I heard Brandy call out.
I craned my head back, but I couldn't see out of the room.
"We received a report of illicit drugs on the premises," the male voice said.
"What?" Brandy challenged. "From who?"
"If I could ask you to stand back, ma'am-" the voice continued.
"No, I'm not going to stand back!" Brandy argued loudly. "You have no right to be here. Article 4 dash 2 states that no security personnel can enter a private residence-"
"-Without cause," the security guard interrupted forcefully. "Which as you can see by this permit, we now have."
"Right there, officer," I heard an unidentified female voice say. "That's where I saw it." There was a brief pause where nobody said anything.
"What the fuck is that?" I heard Brandy ask. "Okay, I swear to god that's not mine! I've never seen shit that before!"
"Ma'am, I'm going to ask you step back and place your hands against the wall," another male stated.
"What?! No fucking way! That shit's not mine!" Brandy hollered.
"Ma'am, I'm not going to ask again-" the guard continued.
"This is bullshit!" Brandy spat, "I'm not taking responsibility for that! Hey- back off."
"Ma'am-"
"I said BACK OFF!" Brandy yelled. I could hear the sounds of a scuffle beginning to break out. "What are you- Hey!" Brandy demanded. "No! Get... OFF OF ME! STOP!! I said Stompph! Nooompph! MMMPHHH!!!"
My heart began to race. What the hell was happening? Brandy had obviously been gagged at this point and was in the process of being overpowered. I turned my attention to my wrist restraints, desperate to find some new flaw in the ropes that would suddenly allow me to escape. I tugged ferociously, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.
"Jodie?" A voice called out from the doorway behind me. I looked up into the mirror to see Katie standing there.
"Aieee!" I shouted through my gag.
Katie rushed over to me and began untying my restraints. Once she released my wrists, I began to unlock my ring-gag. My fingers were trembling so hard that I could barely work them properly. By the time Katie had finished untying my ankles, I had removed my ring-gag and pulled off the hood. I opened and closed my jaw several times gratefully.
Suddenly, I felt Katie place her hands on each side of my face, making me jump slightly in my seat. It was safe to say that this ordeal had left me pretty jumpy. But tenderly, Katie held my face steady, kneeling down so that we were eye-level.
"Do whatever they say," she whispered cautiously. I could tell from the look in her eyes that she was dead serious. "Don't say a word. Just nod and shake your head. I'll take care of everything. Okay?"
"Okay," I whispered back, nodding. I still had no idea what the hell was going on, but I sensed that I could trust Katie. I held back tears as Katie gave me a small smile.
"Okay," she said softly, grabbing my hand. "Up we get."
Katie helped me stand and supported my weight. While mostly emotionally traumatic, the last hour had left me somewhat shaky and weak. "I'm good now," I said as we stepped out of the bathroom. Katie let go of me, allowing me to walk on my own.
As we stepped out of the bedroom, I saw 3 security guards standing in the foyer. One was wearing rubber gloves and was taking photographs of the entry hall table, another was walking around the suite speaking into a walkie-talkie, and the third was standing over Brandy who was lying on the floor face-down with her hands restrained behind her back at her wrists and elbows. She was still clothed, but once again wore cuffs, a trainer ball-gag, and brand new collar.
As we stepped closer, I peered at the entry-hall table, curious to see what the guard was taking pictures of. Perched on the edge was none other than Katie's pillbox from earlier. The lid was open revealing Katie's tube of chapstick, breath mints, and... the marijuana joints!
My mouth dropped as I glanced over to Katie. She gave me a half smile and a tiny wink. Holy shit! Beneath the ditsy, bumbling, exterior, Katie was a bonafide genius! She must have planted the pillbox on the table as she was leaving! And then, she went straight to security to report the finding of illegal drugs! If it weren't for the fact that there were three security guards in our presence and we couldn't afford to seem too suspicious, I could have kissed Katie!
"Do you know anything about this?" the guard with the walkie-talkie asked me, pointing at the drugs on the table. I shook my head 'no'. The guard studied me for a second before speaking again into his walkie. "Bonner to Kennel, the suspect's been apprehended. Gathering evidence, now."
Pulling out a smartphone, he lifted it up and tapped it against my collar. For a split hopeful second, I thought maybe he was going to free me. But I heard my collar emit three fast consecutive beeps. I sighed in disappointment as I recognized this sound sequence from the handbook that I'd studied the night prior. Three fast consecutive beeps merely indicated a transfer of custody. I wasn't "free". I was now in the custody of security. Yay...
"Arms behind your back, please," he said to me.
I looked over to Katie nervously but she simply gave me a reassuring nod. Trusting her, I did as the guard asked. The guard reached into the cargo pocket of his pants and withdrew restraints. I felt him apply the padlock to my wrist cuffs, locking them together. Then, I felt him encompass a leather strap around my upper arms just above the elbows. I winced as he buckled the strap, keeping my arms pressed tightly together behind me. Then, he raised a leash up to my neck. I rolled my eyes as he clipped it to the D-ring of my collar. I prayed silently that Katie knew what she was doing...
The guard with a camera walked around the suite taking pictures. He walked briskly past us and proceeded to inspect the kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, and closets. For the next several minutes, all was silent with exception to the sounds of the camera flash and cabinets doors and drawers opening and closing. I had to give it to these rent-a-cops. This investigation definitely seemed pretty thorough.
We all waited patiently until the guard with the camera walked back into the foyer and began packing up his supplies. He carefully he placed the pillbox in an evidence baggie and stowed it into one of the compartments of his large black duffle bag. Peeling off his rubber gloves, he hoisted the back over his shoulders and turned to the other guards. "That should do it," he said, matter of factly.
The guard with the walkie-talkie lifted it to his mouth and said, "Bonner to kennel- bringing in both warden and slave. Please prepare holding for two."
A voice on the other end replied, "Copy that."
"Alright, let's move out," the guard said.
The guard standing over Brandy reached down and pulled her painfully to her feet by her leash. She grunted as she struggled to put her feet beneath her. Brandy may have been muscular, but the guard holding her could have been a pro-wrestler. I couldn't help but smile at the sight of Brandy being restrained and helpless again. Her freedom had hardly lasted an hour! And now she was headed right back to the kennel. Between her sour expression and her still-bleeding lip, Brandy had, once again, become the model of a quite unhappy camper.
The guard holding the duffle bag held the front door open and the other two guards led us out into the blistering heat. We got a lot of attention as we made our way down Centre Street. To be specific, Brandy was the recipient of the majority of mock applause and wolf-whistles. Not only was she gorgeous and busty, but with her elbows strapped together behind her back, her breasts jutted out even further than usual.
Seemingly, the only thing that perverted men liked to see more than a bound and gagged woman, was a bound and gagged woman who used to be in charge. Seeing as Brandy was still clothed, the crowd seemed to come to the natural conclusion that she was getting in trouble for something. And their reactions were downright gleeful.
It was quite a long walk of shame. Much longer than I remembered it being earlier. But finally, we arrived at the kennel. I'm not sure which was more welcome- leaving the public eye or feeling the cool air-conditioning once again on my naked body. A new security guard who I didn't recognize was seated behind the front desk.
"O'Connell and company," the guard leading our group said.
"Alright. Cell A-14 is ready for them," the guard behind the desk replied. He reached beneath his desk and pressed a button, causing the metal doors in the back of the room to slide open. "And miss-" he said to Katie. "If you wouldn't mind taking a seat. The judicial authority will be by shortly to take your statement."
"Sure thing," Katie replied. I looked over at her nervously as I saw her and the guard holding the duffle bag part ways with us. "Don't worry," she whispered with a smile as she squeezed my arm. "I'll fix everything." I nodded apprehensively.
The guards led Brandy and me by the leash straight through the metallic sliding doors to the horse stalls. Or as they'd now become- the prisoner cells... As we walked passed the dozens of doors on our right and left, I could hear faint mmmph's and shrieks. I shuddered to think that the once peaceful horse stables of Nott's Faire had essentially become nothing more than a human torture chamber. It had become the ultimate deterrent to breaking the rules. As far as I knew, Katie was going to "fix everything" and I was still terrified.
When we reached the second to last door on the right, the guard in front raised his badge and pressed it against the card reader next to the door. After a beep and a blink of a green LED, the door slid open.
As we walked inside, I could see two wheeled carts in the center of the room. They kind of reminded me of the large flatbed lumber carts at Home Depot. But these each had a vertical steel pipe that protruded out of the mid-rear of the platform. Each pipe looked to be about 4 inches in diameter and about two feet in height. Sticking out the tops of each pipes were two leather straps with clips attached to the ends. One of the straps was short. The other was long.
"Mmmmmmph! Mmmph!" Brandy suddenly hollered into her gag. Shaking her head violently from side to side, she began to back away from the cell. She obviously recognized these contraptions and did not appear to be fond of them. Her guard gave the leash a harsh tug, causing her to stumble forward and nearly lose her balance. She continued to scream and holler, digging her heels into the floor as she was pulled into the room. Brandy's objectionable reaction to these carts now had me legitimately worried.
The guards pulled us over to the carts and unclipped our leashes. Brandy's guard pulled a knife out of a sheath strapped to his belt and began to slice off Brandy's t-shirt, jean shorts, and panties. Dammit, I thought. Two of my outfits had now been destroyed thanks to this bitch. Moments later, Brandy was stark naked, just as I was. My spectating was interrupted by my guard suddenly forcing a giant ball-gag into my mouth.
"Uggph-" I reacted in surprise as the ball was quickly wedged behind my front teeth. I had to hold back the urge to struggle against him. I took a deep breath, replaying Katie's advice in my head. 'Do whatever they say. I'll take care of everything'. Okay, Katie- I'm counting on you...
Moments later, the strap of the gag was buckled behind my neck, locking it in place. But it wasn't over. Leather straps were then pulled over my face, one on each side of my nose, that extended upward and met in at my forehead. This told me that Brandy and I now matched. Like Brandy, I was also being set up with a trainer ball-gag. The strap was pulled over my head and buckled at the rear. Lastly, a strap was buckled beneath my chin, ensuring that I could not open my jaw any wider than it currently was. Not that this was a possibility, given the giant size of the ball-gag.
"Okay, climb aboard," my guard ordered.
I looked over at Brandy who was struggling against her guard, twisting and writhing under his grip. But he was nearly twice her size in muscle mass. All too easily, he managed to force her onto the cart and spin her so she faced away from the pipe. Not wanting to wrestle my own guard, I followed suit, positioning myself exactly as Brandy was.
Brandy's guard kicked the backside of lower legs, causing Brandy to drop down to her knees. With my wrists and elbows locked behind me, I gingerly knelt down as well. Then, the guards grabbed us both by our shoulders and lowered us forward to lay face-down on the cart. I shivered as my naked upper body made contact with the cold metallic surface.
Stepping behind me, I felt my guard grab both or my ankles and pull me backwards towards the rear of the cart. I let out a gasp as my exposed clit made contact with the cold steel pipe between my legs. I felt the guard padlock my ankle cuffs together by the D-rings and press my feet back toward me so they hovered above my ass. Moments later, I heard a click sound and the guard released his grip on my ankles. But to my surprise, I could no longer straighten my legs any more. They were now trapped in their bent position.
I craned my neck back to see why, but my eye caught Brandy's ankles, telling me everything I needed to know. The shorter leather strap that was sticking out of the top of the pipe had been clipped to the padlock that secured our ankles together. Brandy had seemingly stopped struggling and had resigned herself to lie still while her guard busied himself with her restraints.
Next, I felt the guard feeding what felt like foam-padded cords behind my bent knees. Looking over at Brandy, I could see that her guard was doing the same thing to her. My eyes widened as I suddenly understood why. The cords seemed to be attached to a pulley system that ran along the outside of the cart and fed up to the cart's handle bar. Once the cords encompassed her knee-pits, Brandy's guard suddenly pulled the cart's handle backward. The result was Brandy's legs being pulled wider apart and further toward the corners of the back on the cart.
I let out an involuntary squeal as the same thing happened to me. My knees were suddenly spread wide and my entire body was tugged backwards toward the guard behind me. My eyes bulged as my clit was pressed even tighter against the steel pipe. As I squirmed about, I quickly realized that there was nothing I could do to separate myself from it.
Then, the guard stepped in front of me and cupped my chin. I groaned in discomfort as he lifted my head into the air, tilting my face upward. With his other hand, he grabbed ahold of the longer unused leather strap sticking out of the top of the pipe. It only took a split second to learn what that strap was for.
After I heard a click, the guard removed his hand from my chin. But to my frustration, my head remained in its upward and craned position. The end of the long strap had been clipped to the D-ring located at the top of my trainer gag. This kept my head locked it its upward position, keeping my back arched uncomfortably. I heard Brandy groan next me, obviously suffering from the same discomfort.
Both guards had straightened up and walked back around to the rear of our carts. Suddenly, to my right, I heard what sounded like a lawn mower starting. This was immediately followed by a blood-curling screech from Brandy. I tried to turn my head toward her to see what had happened, but now found the task to be nearly impossible. But a split-second later, I realized precisely why she had screeched.
The cart beneath me suddenly roared to life. The pipe that was pressed against my clit began to vibrate with shattering intensity. A matching screech involuntarily escaped my gagged mouth as I my entire body began to tremble. Holy shit, the pipe wasn't just vibrating. That sucker felt like a fucking jackhammer! My eyes nearly shot out of my skull as my clit was pounded by what felt like the most intense vibrator ever constructed.
I continued screaming for several seconds until I heard my guard shout, "Pipe down! I'm only going to explain this once!" I held my breath and tried my best to calm myself. Holy SHIT, this was intense!
"The machine you are currently using is affectionately known as the extractor," my guard continued in a booming voice. "Simply put, it was designed to extract orgasms from your bodies. But what's unique about the extractor is that it offers you a choice.
I was having a difficult time hearing anything the guard was saying. Only a few seconds in and I was already feeling like I was about to cum!
"If you enjoy back-to-back-to-back orgasms, all you have to do is sit back and relax. Let the machine do its good work," the guard explained. "But if you would like a break, and have the right amount of willpower, there's a way to give yourself some relief."
"Now, if you lift you head high enough and you bend your knees back enough, the vibrations become much more manageable." the guard continued. With these words, he knelt down beside me and cupped my chin in his hand. He lifted my head upwards, causing my back to arch even more. With his other hand, I felt the guard press down on the tops of my feet, brining them closer to the pipe.
Surely enough, with the guard's assistance to my head and feet, the vibration of the pipe had died down to little more than a rumble. To my relief, my ecstasy began to subside and I felt my fast approaching orgasm recede.
"The straps that are attached to your trainer gag and ankle cuffs are connected to what's called a pressure gage," the guard explained. "The harder they're tugged, the stronger the vibrator gets. So, if you need a break, this right here is the position you wanna be in. But if you let your head lean forward and your feet pull back- the intensity picks back up again."
The guard let go of my chin and feet, placing me, once again, in gravity's custody. As my head slouched forward, the vibrator sprang back to life at its high intensity. Both Brandy and I resumed our screaming into our gags.
I groped the air hopelessly with my fingers as I struggled to position my body the way the guard had demonstrated. I bent my knees as far back as they would go, pointing my toes toward the pipe, and I attempted to lift my head as high as humanly possible. But the task was much harder than I had anticipated. While I did manage to raise my head upward, I wasn't able to lift it quite as high as it was with the guard's help. The vibrating pipe now felt like it was set at a 'medium' intensity.
"This is where the two of you will remain until the judicial authority arrives," the guard explained. "In fact, this is how I predict the two of you will spend the remainder of the evening. So, I'd get comfortable."
After only a few seconds of holding my position, my neck muscles were already beginning to ache. I groaned as I stretched my fingers out in an attempt to grab onto the vibrating pipe for assistance. To my pleasant surprise, I managed to wrap my fingers around it. I honestly couldn't tell if it helped my circumstances any, but it did allow me to feel as if I had something to pull against. So I tightened my grip tried to hold on.
Both guards had made their way back in front of us. With my head now trapped in its craned position, I no longer had the option of turning away. So instead of trying, I merely clenched my eyes shut. But even with my eyes closed, I could feel their gaze on us. I cringed as I imagined the arousal they were likely experiencing as they watched us struggle.
"Alright, ladies," the guard said. "The judicial authority will be by shortly. I'd recommend you be on your best behavior when she arrives. Madame Annabelle doesn't respond well to insolence."
Oh shiiiiiiit, I thought as my eyes shot open. Annabelle was the judicial authority?! Fuck me, I was screwed. After the way I'd spoken to her the last two times we'd met, there was little chance that I wouldn't be paying the piper. I shuddered to contemplate how this meeting was going to go...
"Good luck," the guard added as he tapped on the touchscreen on the wall next to the cell door. Moments later, the door slid open and they exited the room. Once they were clear, the doors closed behind them, leaving Brandy and I alone with our extractors.
"Mmmmmmmph!" I groaned, tightening my grip on the vibrating pipe and tugging against it in an effort to hoist my upper body further upward. This was shaping up to be an excruciating predicament! Even with my firm grasp, I was quickly beginning to lose faith in the strength of my neck and back muscles. I was thoroughly unprepared for this...
Brandy was at least fit. From the looks of her muscles, she probably did a hundred sit-ups a day. I, on the other hand, enjoyed my daily routine of one. I'd sit up in bed every morning. And then, I'd lie back down at night. Done... Damn, I couldn't even remember the last time I'd been to the gym!
I shivered as I felt a bead of sweat run down the side of my face. Another 30-45 seconds of holding myself up in this position and I'd surely be done for. Shit this was tough! As it happened, it only took gravity about 15 to get the better of me. I mmphed into my gag as I felt the pipe begin to vibrate harder against my clit. Shit, shit, shit!! I held my breath and dug deep in an effort to lift my head once more. The effort bought me another 3 solid seconds before I completely collapsed beneath my weight. I was officially spent!
The vibrating pipe between my legs kicked into full gear. Between gasps for air, I shrieked insanely into my ball-gag. The ecstasy that had subsided moments earlier had returned with a vengeance. I could feel the orgasm fast approaching, whether I wanted it to or not. Within seconds, I grimaced and screamed with all my might as a mind-shattering orgasm washed over me. Never in my life had I experienced a climax so intense. Not only was this damn pipe vibrating at a blistering intensity, but it was hitting my sweet spot perfectly. And there was simply no escaping it. Katie, I thought, I'm gonna need you to deliver on your promise ASAP!
I gasped for air, quivering and shaking involuntarily as my orgasm slowly faded. To my humiliation, my muffled shrieks of protest had morphed into high-pitched moans of ecstasy. Somewhere in the midst of my climax, I'd lost my grip on the pipe and my bound hands now rested weakly on my bare ass-cheeks. Drool spilt out the sides of my gagged mouth and my eyes remained rolled-back in my head. I'd never felt so helpless. I'd never felt so utterly powerless.
I moaned pitifully as my body gave its last few involuntary jerks. I sighed deeply, willing myself to relax, despite the incessant vibrations against my clit. But no sooner did the final remnants of the orgasm cease, that I felt the beginnings of the next one creeping closer. I groaned loudly, tugging pointlessly at my bonds. I hated this! It had been less than a few minutes and I was already prepared to do anything to make it stop.
I suffered through two additional orgasms before I heard Brandy experience her first. I burned with resentment as I listened to hers subside in what seemed like half the time of mine. Then again, perhaps she was just less dramatic than I was. And unlike my pathetic vocals, her screams somehow maintained their element of rage. While I sounded like a moaning, over-sexed whore, she managed to sound like William fucking Wallace screaming 'FREEDOM' at the end of Braveheart. I suppose I could see why Annabelle liked dominating her so much...
After what seemed like forever, the door to our cell finally slid open. I had lost count of how many time's I'd cum. At this point, each climax felt almost like micro-orgasm that piggy-backed on the one immediately before it. I'd say that my clit hurt, but the truth is- it had pretty much gone numb after orgasm number 5. My face was flushed, and my hair was sweaty and matted. Basically, over the course of the last 15-20 minutes, I had been reduced to a sputtering, soaking mess.
Standing in the doorway were the silhouettes of two figures. As they walked into the room, I was able to identify them as Annabelle and... Katie. But Katie was no longer dressed in her maid's uniform. Now, she was stark naked with leather wrist and ankle cuffs. Her ankles were untethered, but her wrists were padlocked together in front of her. Her maroon choker had been replaced with a black collar to match Brandy's and mine. Attached to her collar was a black leash held by Annabelle. Her head was bowed and her face looked sullen. My addled mind raced to decipher what was going on.
As the door slid shut behind them, I could see that Annabelle was wearing a wide grin on her face. "You just can't seem to stay away, can you?" She asked in a patronizing tone. I merely panted back at her, too weak and woozy to even grunt a reply.
Stepping over to the wall, Annabelle raised her hand and pressed a large red button beneath the touchscreen next the door. All of the sudden, both of our machines lurched to a stop and the loud motors beneath our carts winded down. Both Brandy and I let out audible sighs.
"I understand that there's been a bit of a mix-up," Annabelle continued. "Is it right that Brandy is now playing the role of Jodie, and Jodie's playing the role of Brandy? How fun!" Still wrecked from my state of ecstasy, I could only blink and pant in reply. "Quite a lot of drama for such a short time in the driver's seat, wouldn't you say?"
Annabelle dropped Katie's leash and stepped over to me. She squatted down in front of me so that we were eye-to-eye.
"And Miss Katie here tells me that she planted a little surprise in your suite in order to prompt an intervention," she continued. "A clever move that ultimately cost Katie her job. Isn't that right, Katie?"
Barely still open, my eyes flicked over to Katie, who was still standing next to the cell door. She gave a small nod. "Yes, ma'am," she said quietly.
"What was that?" Annabelle snapped forcefully. "Speak up."
"Yes, ma'am," Katie replied quickly in a louder voice.
"Much better," Annabelle answered. "Katie and I will be getting to know each other quite well over the next couple weeks. I've sentenced her to 21 days of corrections here at the kennel. That's the maximum sentence for possession and distribution of an illegal substance on Kingdom grounds."
My eyes opened wide. 21 days? Holy shit! My heart dropped in my chest. Katie's decision to help me out of my predicament had ultimately damned her to nearly a month of torture at the hands of a sadist! I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. Katie didn't deserve this...
"After she's done," Annabelle continued, "-she'll be reassigned back to her old department. Entertainment, was it?"
"Yes, ma'am," Katie replied with her head still bowed. I could see the disappointment written on her face. I vaguely recalled her telling how much she disliked working in 'entertainment'.
"But enough about Katie," Annabelle said. "Let's talk about you."
Annabelle stroked several loose hairs out of my face and tucked them behind my ear. I could tell that she was enjoying this. I suppose after the rudeness I'd shown her, it was only natural to expect someone like her to want to take a victory lap.
"Did you happen to read the message I sent you?" Annabelle asked.
I shook my head as best as my restraints allowed.
"I figured you hadn't," she replied. "I made an offer to purchase Brandy from you. I called in a favor with a higher-up and was able to authorize an increase of 250 grand to your final take-home salary."
My eyes widened. As exhausted and over-sexed as I was, I wasn't too befuddled to appreciate the prospects of an additional 250 thousand dollars...
"Unfortunately, that deal is no longer on the table," Annabelle replied shortly. "Given this unexpected turn of events, I'm prepared to offer you another deal. A far better one, if you ask me." Annabelle leaned in closer to me. Her face was now cold and serious. "Agree to transfer Brandy into my custody, or I'll send you back with her just as we found you. Collared and cuffed. Brandy can get back to dying your hair blonde, and you can spend the next three months going by her name."
To my right, Brandy began to holler wildly. She was obviously not enthused to hear the terms of her sale being negotiated right in front of her. And from the sound of it, she already suspected the way I was likely to answer.
Annabelle's cold eyes bore into mine from over her spectacles. "What do you say?"
I blinked back at her in shock. Not only had 250 thousand dollars suddenly vanished from the table, but the alternative to accepting her offer was ending up back in the position I'd just escaped from... It was really a 'no-brainer', but due to the lasting effects of my countless orgasms, I was having difficulty weighing the pros and cons. I wondered if there was any room for a counter-offer.
"Mmph grmmph mphmm?" I asked.
"Yes or no, red," she pressed.
"Mmmph grrmph!" I insisted. The repercussions of this decision were far too great to be decided by a mere nod or shake of my head. I needed to speak. I needed assurances. Annabelle may have been the one currently holding all of the cards, but I still possessed something that she very much desired...
Annabelle stared at me for a moment before finally lifting her hand to my face. Grabbing ahold of the leather strap that was connected to my ball-gag, she gave it a tug. The end of the strap unsnapped from it position. Drool spilled down my chin as the ball-gag was suddenly pulled out of my mouth.
"Ugh," exhaled, spitting saliva out of my mouth onto the platform beneath me. "I need to talk to Brandy before I make a decision," I replied. "Alone." I desperately wanted to know what was in Brandy's head. As much as I'd come to despise her for what she'd done to me, it was crystal clear that she was here for a much deeper purpose. She was a puzzle piece that simply needed solving. If I agreed to these terms, I would almost certainly never get the answers that only she could provide...
"Not a chance," Annabelle replied. "I need an answer right now. Yes or no."
Brandy resumed her unintelligible shouting next to me, but in a higher octave. It was hard to tell if her voice was sounding more hoarse than earlier or if this was her attempt at pleading.
Dammit, I thought. Annabelle had pinned me into a corner. Without talking with Brandy, I had no way of hoping to learn her secrets. And without her assurances, I had no way of guaranteeing that she wouldn't betray me all over again. For such a simple decision, it really was shaping up to be more complicated than it should have been.
"Last chance," Annabelle pressed. I had to make a choice...
"I'll do it," I said. "But under one condition."
"And that is?" Annabelle asked suspiciously.
"I get Katie," I said forcefully. Brandy stared back at me silently. "If you want Brandy, then I want Katie in return. Even trade."
Katie's eyes suddenly lit up and darted hopefully back and forth between Annabelle and I. Brandy howled miserably into her gag. I could hear her restraints clinking frantically against the metal cart.
"Not possible," Annabelle said abruptly. "Katie's a salaried employee. We have different vetting protocols for employees and contestants. She hasn't been cleared or approved for guest ownership."
"Actually, I have," Katie contributed from her spot next to the door. Her small voice shook as she spoke. "I've been approved as a contestant every year, but I've always backed out... on account of personal reasons."
"It's irrelevant," Annabelle replied flatly, rolling her eyes. "If the final agreement was declined, then the paperwork is incomplete. The contract is now void."
"All I would need is a revised 704 agreement that includes a modified calendar," Katie chirped. "That and a job termination order, which I'm sure Mr. Gowen would be happy to give you."
Annabelle paused, her face still inches in front of me. I could tell that she was contemplating the offer.
"Those are my terms," I said decisively. "Brandy for Katie." The two of us stared silently at each other for several seconds. Her nostrils flared, clearly bothered by the unexpected turn and power shift of this negotiation.
"And Mr. Mohler from guest services is a licensed notary," Katie interjected, speaking rapidly now. "If you need someone to notarize the contract, he-"
"Enough!" Annabelle interrupted forcefully, raising her hand. Katie fell immediately silent, bowing her head submissively. Annabelle took a deep breath and then exhaled. "You've got a deal," she said in a low voice.
To my right, Brandy went completely wild. Screaming, sputtering, flailing, the works. She had just witnessed her own sale to quite possibly the least desirable individual in the entire Kingdom. In an instant, her hopes and dreams of freedom and independence had been replaced with hellish imprisonment. But as unfortunate as her circumstances were, I really had very little empathy for her at this point. Her own actions had led her to this place. Her heartless betrayal had earned her this fate.
To be honest, I was more disappointed by my own missed opportunities than I was about Brandy's. While Katie and I directly benefited from this deal, I couldn't help but wonder about the possibility that many others stood to lose from it. What if there was some horrible secret about this place that only Brandy could bring to an end? What if I just screwed over the one person who was equipped to bring down the Kingdom and restore this place to my uncle's wholesome vision?
But I was getting ahead of myself. I had no idea what Brandy's deal was. For all I knew, her cryptic "delta foxtrot" business could have just been an effort to screw with me. If I was determined to find answers, I'd just have to do so without her.
Annabelle straightened up to tower over me again. Damn, her thigh muscles must have been in incredible shape for her to have held her squatted position for that entire time. She walked between Brandy and I and I could hear her messing with the mechanics at the rear of Brandy's cart.
"I have a lot of preparations to make for the upcoming auction, but I'll try to draw up the paperwork sometime this evening. We should be able to make everything official by this time tomorrow." she said.
Brandy let out a shriek as her cart began to roll forward. Pushing on the handle, Annabelle guided the cart forward. Katie stepped to the side as Brandy's cart was rolled up to the door. Annabelle tapped at the touchscreen, prompting the cell door to slide open.
"Since I so inconsiderately cut your session short," Annabelle mused, still tapping at the touchscreen, "And seeing as we have the right to detain you for up to 24 hours pending the completion of our investigation, I think I'm going to leave you as you were."
Annabelle suddenly punched the large red button beneath the touchscreen again. To my horror, the cart beneath me roared back to life and the pipe between my legs resumed its merciless work against my raw pussy.
"Aaah!! Noooooo!!!!" I shrieked, squirming pointlessly to separate myself from the vibrating shaft. "Please, NOOOOOO!!!! I cant! I CAN'T!!!!"
"Katie, would you mind reinstalling Miss O'Connell's gag for me?" Annabelle asked calmly as she rolled Brandy out of the room.
"Yes ma'am," Katie replied softly with her head bowed. With her hands still restrained in front of her, Katie stepped over to me looking apologetic. "I'm so sorry," Katie whispered as she knelt down in front of me.
"Please, no!" I continued to plead at Annabelle's back. "I can't handle any more of this! I've already cum more times than I can count! Annabelle, pleeeemph!!! MMMMPPPPPPH!!!" Katie had pushed the ball-gag back into my mouth and snapped the leather strap back in its place.
"Oh, you'd be surprised at what your body can handle when you've got no choice in the matter," she called back to me over her shoulder. "Come, Katie. Let's give mistress some alone time."
Katie gave me one last apologetic look before straightening up and jogging out of the room behind Annabelle. I continued to howl miserably as the vibrating pole hammered against me. Once again, I bent my knees as tightly as I could and craned my head upward in attempt to lessen the vibrator's intensity.
"Enjoy your cum coma," Annabelle sang to me patronizingly as the door slid shut. I was alone. Alone with my extractor. It hadn't even been a full minute and I could already feel another orgasm creeping towards me. My neck muscles burned in agony as I held my head in its upright position. But even with the lower intensity of the vibrator, my clit was already incredibly tender from my previous round of orgasms. It now took remarkably little to push me toward the edge.
Moments later, my body trembled uncontrollably as another climax crashed over me. Weak as a kitten, gravity succeeded in pulling my head back down, returning the vibrator's intensity to its highest setting. Self-pity overcame me as I came to accept the helplessness of my circumstances. I sobbed miserably as my clenched toes and knuckles relaxed in defeat. My long-term future may have looked promising, but my immediate future was nothing but bleak. At this point, only one thing was for sure- this was bound to be a loooong and trying afternoon...
Chapter 9 - The Auction
I woke up to the sound of the phone ringing loudly in my ear. I ignored it until the ringing finally stopped. Moments later, the phone rang again. Barely awake, I groggily reached over to the nightstand, lifted the phone into the air and slammed it back down onto the receiver. I exhaled in relief as the incessant ringing stopped once more. Rolling onto my side, I felt oddly disoriented. Despite the plush mattress beneath me, my back ached as if I had slept the night on a concrete slab. My eyes opened just wide enough for me to see the red lights of the LED clock next to me. The time read 2:49pm. Opening my eyes wider, I could see that I was back in my suite. I laid in silence contemplating how I had gotten here. The last thing I remembered was... shit... What was the last thing I remembered?
Every muscle in my body ached simultaneous as I used my arms to push myself upright into a seated position. I was completely naked. I groaned as I delicately shifted my legs to hang over the edge of the bed. I felt as if I'd been hit by a bus. Staring blankly at the wall in front of me, I continued wracking my brain to find my bearings. Why on earth did I feel so horrible?
Suddenly, everything came flooding back. The kennel, Brandy, Annabelle, Katie, the extractor... The day prior had been both a physical and emotional hell. From Brandy enslaving me, to Katie planting drugs in the suite, to all three of us being thrown into the kennel, to me having my pussy vibrated to oblivion while I was trapped in a strict hogtie. Fuck, it really had been an awful day. No wonder I felt so sore. But how did I get back here?
Still staring blankly at the wall in front of me, I vaguely recalled being driven by security guards back to my suite in a golf-cart. It was dark outside, so it must have been sometime late last night. Or early this morning. I remember him saying something to me as I was carried into the suite, but I couldn't remember what... After he laid on the bed, everything went blank.
I stood to my feet, clenching the down comforter to help me maintain my balance. I walked gingerly to the bathroom and sat down on the toilet to take a piss. Damn, even my crotch ached! The extractor had really done a number on me! Standing up to wash my hands, my heart skipped a beat as I saw my reflection in the mirror. Dark circles encompassed my eyes and my hair resembled a disheveled bird's nest. But as beastly as I may have looked, my appearance was not the cause of the pit that had suddenly formed in my stomach. It was the bright red collar around my neck... My heart momentarily stopped beating. I was wearing a collar again! My hands shot to my neck in terror.
What the hell?! I ran my fingers frantically around the collar, searching for a buckle or clasp to unlock. But the collar appeared to be mechanically locked, just as my previous collar had been. "What the fuck?!" I said out loud. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to focus... Think, Ally. How did this happen? Who did this? Why was this collar red? After nearly a minute of staring at my reflection, the phone rang again, snapping me out of my contemplative state. I spun around in frustration and stormed back into the bedroom.
"What?!" I said loudly into the phone. "What is it?!"
I heard a click on the other line followed by a cheerful recording of a woman's voice, "Hello. This is a prerecorded message reminding you about your disciplinary hearing at... 3 o'clock PM... at the Administration Bureau. Please arrive 10 minutes prior to your appointment. Thank you."
My heartbeat continued to race as I processed the words. Disciplinary hearing? What the fuck did that mean?
"If you would like to hear this message again, please press 1."
I hung up the phone, and merely stared at it. I was still too disoriented to grasp what was going on. Disciplinary hearing??? Had the security guard explained this to me last night? Shit, it really did seem like I was living one nightmare after another.
I kept replaying the words "Disciplinary hearing at 3 o'clock PM" over and over in my head, desperate to trigger some sort of memory. Just then, I glanced back at the LED clock that read 2:56pm. Shit. Wherever the Administration Bureau was, I was supposed to be there in exactly 4 minutes. Technically, I should have been there 6 minutes ago, if I was abiding by the instructions to arrive 10 minutes early.
I quickly turned and walked back into the foyer where I'd left my shopping bags from the day prior. But to my surprise, nothing was there. I spun around, frantically scanning the suite. C'mon, Ally, I thought. Where the fuck did you put them? I walked back into the bedroom and opened the door to the walk-in closet. Nothing... Storming back into the foyer, my eye caught a piece of paper on the entry hall table that I'd missed earlier. It was a hand-written note...
Dear Jodie,
In the event that your addled state of mind caused you to forget, please note that your disciplinary hearing is set for 3:00pm at the Corrections Office. Please arrive 10 minutes early dressed ONLY in your probation collar. Once you have signed over custody of Ms. Michaels, your belongings will be returned to you and you will be free to go. See you soon,
Mistress Annabelle
Beneath her signature was a brochure map. A red circle had been drawn around the old wine distillery on the opposite side of the castle. While we knew it as the "catacombs", a dot at the entrance now read Corrections Bureau. The catacombs did seem uniquely fitting for a location that dealt with "corrections". It was basically an underground dungeon. Of course Annabelle would have her office in a dungeon. Fucking vampire.
I reread the letter quickly, flipping it over to make sure I didn't miss anything on the back side. Dressed only in my probation collar? She expected me to go there naked?! Dammit, this woman really was a bitch! With a deep sigh, I snatched the lanyard with my keycard off of the table and marched angrily out the door.
It was raining outside. Not too hard, but hard enough to piss me off that I was forced to experience it without any clothes on. Not wanting to know what would happen if I arrived late, I jogged down the stone staircase of the castle. To my relief, the square was relatively empty of guests. Likely, due to the rain. You could almost smell all the sex that was going on while everyone was staying dry in their rooms.
After a short jog around the castle, I reached the cobblestone ramp that descended beneath the castle bridge to the catacombs. A sign hanging above the door read "Corrections Bureau". I walked through the door and shivered as a gust of cold air met my wet skin. An entry bell jingled as the door closed behind me. The air felt dingy and dank down here. Stone lined the floors, walls, and hanging wrought iron lamps gave the long entry hall an eerie orange glow. In the middle of the hallway sat a woman at a semi-circled desk. Behind her at the end of the hall stood two security guards on either side of the large wooden door.
Despite my nakedness, I took a deep breath and confidently approached the woman sitting behind the counter. She was dressed just as Katie had been dressed when I first met her- White blouse, grey vest, and a burgundy choker. Her hands were handcuffed in front of her as she typed on a keyboard.
"Hi, how may I help you?" She asked pleasantly.
"Yeah," I replied slightly out of breath, "I'm here for a hearing or something."
"A disciplinary hearing?" the receptionist asked.
"Sure," I answered, rolling my eyes. Were there really other kinds?
"Very good. Please take a seat and Mistress Annabelle will be with you shortly," she replied, gesturing both cuffed hands towards the benches that ran along the entire length of the wall.
I walked over to the nearest bench seat and sat down, still shivering from the cold dank air. The receptionist returned to typing feverishly on her keyboard. I crossed my legs, attempting to cover myself as much as possible.
Less than a minute later, a loud buzzer sounded, causing the guards in the back of the room to enter the office. Moments later, they reappeared through the doorway dragging a naked bald guy in a red collar. He shouted into a large ball-gag, twisting and tugging to escape their grip, but the guards seemed relatively unfazed. Behind them followed Annabelle, dressed in a tight-fitting purple pantsuit.
"Don't fight it, Mr. Leland. Be a good boy and you'll find that a week in the kennel will go rather quickly," Annabelle said patronizingly. She followed them as they walked past the front desk and exited the building. Leaning out the doorway, she shouted after him- "I'll stop by in a few hours to make sure you're settled in properly."
With a satisfied grin, Annabelle let the door close and walked back to the semi-circled desk.
"Mistress," the receptionist greeted her quietly, bowing her head.
Annabelle ignored her picking up the clipboard. "Who's next?" She asked.
"Me," I replied, standing to my feet. My face was expressionless and I attempted to look as tough as possible.
Turning toward me, Annabelle's face suddenly lit up. "Miss O'Connell!" she replied. "Long time no see!"
"What's the deal with this?" I challenged, pointing to my collar.
"It's only temporary, dear," she replied. "I'll remove it once you've signed our agreement."
"Was it really necessary to force me to come here naked?" I asked.
Annabelle paused and looked back at the clipboard in her hand. "Hannah, Is there a reason that Miss O'Connell's name isn't on the sign-in sheet?" She asked the receptionist, placing it in front of her.
"I'm... sorry, Mistress. I forgot to ask her to sign in," the girl replied sheepishly.
Annabelle leaned forward, placing both hands on the desk. "You forgot?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress," the girl replied.
"What do you suppose might help you not forget in the future?" Annabelle asked, leaning forward and placing her hands on the desk.
The girl hesitated. "I don't know, Mistress," she answered quietly.
"I think I know just the thing that will help," Annabelle answered. She reached forward and pressed a button on Hannah's office phone. "Security, this is Annabelle. Please send a replacement for Hannah at reception."
"Yes ma'am," a male voice on the other end answered. "Do you have a preference for her replacement?"
"Uh, yes, actually. Shannon if she's available."
"Yes, ma'am," the male voice replied.
"And please send a guard to escort Hannah to the kennel," Annabelle added. "She'll be spending the rest of her shift in corrections-"
"Oh good grief," I said, storming over to the desk. Annabelle's eyebrows raised in surprise as I grabbed a pen and scribbled my fake name on the sign-in sheet. "She didn't forget to ask me. I refused."
Annabelle stared at me for a moment, contemplating her next words. "Is this true, Hannah?" She asked.
The girl named Hannah hesitated, her eyes glancing nervously back and forth from me to Annabelle. Then she gave a slight nod. "Yes, Mistress," she whispered.
Annabelle and I continued staring at each other until the male voice on the phone interrupted us, "Um, is that all ma'am?"
After a pause, a sinister smile came across Annabelle's face. "Yes," she answered. "In fact, please inform Shannon that she will be my new acting secretary. Hannah has been reassigned."
"Yes ma'am," the voice replied, followed by a click and dial tone.
"Oh come on," I interjected. "I just told you that it was my fault. You don't have to be a bitch."
"Hannah, repeat after me," Annabelle said coldly, still staring at me. "Miss O'Connell-"
The girl stared down at the desk and softly replied, "Miss O'Connell-"
"Thanks to your insubordination-" Annabelle continued.
"Thanks to your insubordination-" Hannah repeated.
"I have lost a coveted desk job that I worked very hard for."
"I have lost a coveted desk job that I worked very hard for."
"You may have thought that you were helping me by lying on my behalf-"
"You may have thought that you were helping me by lying on my behalf-"
"-but you have actually made my circumstances much... much worse."
"-but you have actually made my circumstances much much worse."
The girl's voice was now shaky and it sounded as if she was now on the verge of tears. I glared silently into Annabelle's eyes, feeling my face flush with anger.
"What was originally set to be a mere two hours of corrections-" Annabelle continued.
"What was originally set to be a mere two hours of corrections-" the girl echoed.
"-has now become 24 hours in the kennel."
"Please, Mistress- I didn't mean to-" Hannah interjected softly.
"-has now become 48 hours in the kennel," Annabelle corrected herself.
Hannah took a deep sigh and continued, "-has now become 48 hours in the kennel."
"Followed by a permanent reassignment as..." Annabelle tilted her head, staring off into the distance in thought, "resident at the Laughing Place".
Hannah began to whimper. "Please no," she begged in a whisper.
"Finish it," Annabelle ordered forcefully.
Hannah continued, now in tears, "Followed by a permanent reassignment as resident at the Laughing Place." Hannah sobbed and hung her head in misery.
From behind me, I heard the wooden door creak open. A security guard escorted a young petite Indian woman to stand next to us.
"Guard, please see that Hannah finds her way to the kennel," Annabelle said. "I'll be along shortly to see that she's processed and settled in."
"This isn't necessary," I said forcefully, "She didn't do anything wrong!"
Annabelle's finger suddenly shot up to my face. "Another word and her kennel visit turns into a week."
I could do nothing but grit my teeth and scowl. I couldn't ever remember hating someone so much. She was torturing this poor girl just to hurt me. After witnessing me vouch for Katie last night, she had obviously realized that I was an empathetic person. And now, she was using that against me...
The guard grabbed Hannah by the arm and pulled her to her feet.
"I'm sorry, Mistress," she said through tears as she was tugged away to the door. Annabelle ignored her as she walked past
A few moments later, both Hannah and the guard disappeared through the door and into the rain. The girl named Shannon sat down in the empty seat behind the desk without saying anything.
"If I remember correctly, poor Hannah had only one request listed on her application. Please no tickling." Annabelle gave an exaggerated shudder. "She's not going to enjoy the Laughing Place." Then, Annabelle turned her gaze back to me. "Okay!" she said, cheerfully, as if nothing had happened. "Follow me to my office."
She promptly turned and walked toward the office door. I followed slowly, shocked at how someone could turn such cruelty on and off with such ease. This woman had to be the closest thing I'd ever witnessed to downright evil.
We made our way to the end of the hallway where Annabelle opened the door and motioned me inside. Trying my best to appear confident, I walked in without hesitation. Annabelle closed the door behind me and crossed to the tall leather chair behind her desk.
I had no choice but to stand facing opposite her, seeing as how there was no chair for me to sit in. I imagine this was intentional to force her guests to stand in her presence.
"You're an enigma, Miss O'Connell," Annabelle continued, lifting her spectacles to her face and looking at her computer screen. "Looking at your records from last year, I see that your previous owner graded you highly submissive. 'A natural-born subby,' he writes. 'Never resists, never talks back, never objects. A true slave at heart.'" Annabelle looked up from her computer and studied me. "It almost as if he's describing an entirely different person..."
My heart skipped beat as I felt a pit form in my stomach. Did she know that I wasn't actually Jodie? I held my breath, attempting to appear as expressionless as humanly possible. "People change," I replied.
Annabelle stared back at me and said nothing for several seconds. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. My mind raced, suspecting the worst.
"Clearly," she finally replied, breaking her stare with me. "Well, whatever the reason is behind your new misguided sense of self-worth, I'm thoroughly looking forward to being done with it." She picked up a folder on her desk and slid it toward me. I stepped forward and picked it up.
"Inside are transfer documents for Ms. Brandy Michaels," she said. "Once you've signed on the last page, she'll be transferred into my custody."
"And Katie?" I replied as I opened the folder.
"Yes," Annabelle said, removing her spectacles and leaning back in her desk chair, "Katie Huff... After several hours of research and legal consultation, I'm afraid that there is... no mechanism in place for directly transferring Miss Hoff into your custody."
"What?" I challenged, blinking dumbfounded at her. "We had an agreement-"
"I'm aware of what we agreed to, but I misspoke," Annabelle replied, almost sounding exhausting. "I've looked into every possible option and believe me when I say-"
"That's just it. I don't believe you," I cut her off. "Look, it's a simple trade. Brandy for Katie. It's what you agreed to."
"The problem..." she began, taking a breath to seemingly compose her impatience, "-is that she is not mine to trade. She is not anybody's to trade."
"Oh for fuck's sake," I replied. "Then, don't trade her to me. Just let her come stay with me. I don't give a shit about custody."
"That's not possible," Annabelle answered.
"Why?" I challenged.
"Because she has already been tried, convicted, and sentenced for being in possession of illicit drugs," she explained. "She pleaded guilty in front of our magistrate and was sentenced to 21 days in corrections."
I stared at her with my jaw open. This was all so absurd! "So, you're telling me that there's no way to commute her sentence? She's just stuck in the kennel for the next month?" I asked.
"There is a way," Annabelle answered. "But it would require her officially change her status from a staff member to contestant.
"So, what's the problem?" I asked.
"The problem is that she did not participate in the hunt," Annabelle fired back in an aggressive voice. "She wasn't a contestant during the hunt. Therefore, having never been captured, she cannot be treated as property. If she were a contestant who'd been caught, she could be traded. If she'd been collected by a gamesman, we'd have been happy to trade her to you. But she doesn't belong to us. And even if she became a contestant at this point, she still wouldn't be ours to trade."
"This is so fucked up," I muttered, stroking my hair out of my face and staring at the ceiling.
"Believe it or not, these rules were put in place to shield employees from unwilling enslavement by their superiors. They protect the staff from being traded or gifted against their will," Annabelle explained.
I simply stood there in silence, staring at the ceiling in disbelief.
Annabelle finally broke the silence. "According to our attorneys, there's only one solution to this predicament."
I looked back at her, waiting for her to explain. "Which is..."
"Katie would need to officially become a contestant..." Annabelle paused before finishing with, "And submit herself into the auction this evening. At that point, you would have the opportunity to buy her."
"What?" I spat incredulously. Annabelle simply stared back at me with her hands crossed on the desk in front of her. "No way! Are you serious? I'm not gonna let Katie be auctioned off. Are you crazy? What happens if I lose?!"
"Then she'd belong to someone else," Annabelle replied matter of factly. "But that's unlikely, given your newly acquired fortune. The most any contestant has ever been auctioned for is 800 grand. And let's just say that she was significantly more endowed than Miss Huff."
"This is so fuckin' ridiculous," I said, rubbing my forehead in thought. "There has to be another way."
"There's not," Annabelle replied bluntly. "If you want Katie, this is your only option." I shook my head in disbelief.
Annabelle waited patiently as her words sunk in. "So, what's it gonna be?" she asked.
"Hold up-" I replied suddenly, stepping toward her and placing my hands on the desk. "If you're telling me that I'm going to need to essentially buy Katie at the auction, why would I ever sign Brandy over to you? What kind of deal is that?"
"You'll sign over Brandy to me because if you don't, I won't authorize Katie's status change. You won't be able to bid on her tonight because she won't be eligible to be auctioned off. She'll be forced to serve out the entirety of her 21-day sentence in the kennel and you'll remain on probation for the next 42 hours."
I scowled at her and opened my mouth to object.
"Careful-" Annabelle interrupted before I could utter a word. "Your mouth has gotten you into trouble at every turn. Contrary to what you might believe, I've bent over backwards to make this deal for you. It's not the solution you dreamt of, but it's all you've got if you want your girl."
She was right. My impulses to mouth off really hadn't benefited me up to this point. In fact, they'd mostly managed to cause more trouble for everyone... As much as I hated to admit it, my smart-assery wasn't helping anyone. I needed to start choosing my battles more wisely.
"Sign the paper, Jodie," Annabelle pressed, holding out a pen. I hesitated, studying the pen in her outstretched hand.
"Can I at least talk to Katie?" I asked. "So I can tell her what's happening?"
"I'm afraid not," Annabelle replied. "But I give you my word that I'll explain everything to her."
This was all so backwards. Nothing had panned out the way I'd hoped it would. I was essentially giving Brandy to her for free! Had I taken Annabelle up on her offer two days ago, I could've made out like a bandit. Now, I was getting nothing. Nothing except for turning Katie into an auction item. I felt sick.
Annabelle sighed, visually growing impatient. "Yes or no, Jodie. I've got a busy day and simply cannot spend any more time on this."
Holding my breath, I grabbed the paper and signed my fake signature on the back page of the document. My hand shook as I handed the paper back to her.
"Alright," Annabelle replied with a smile on her face. "While I can't say it was a pleasure doing business with you, it's certainly been memorable." She stood to her feet and held out her smartphone toward my neck. I flinched, untrustingly.
"I'm removing your collar, silly," Annabelle cooed. "Relax."
I leaned forward slightly so Annabelle's phone could reach. As soon as contact was made with my collar, I felt the mechanisms release and the straps loosen around my neck. I quickly pulled it free and placed it on the table in front of her.
"Here's hoping our paths needn't cross anymore," Annabelle said, grabbing the discarded collar.
"Agreed," I muttered as I turned my head to leave.
"Ah, one more thing," Annabelle interjected. "I actually have a favor to ask."
A favor? This woman had to be delusional if she thought that I had any interest in doing anything for her. I turned toward her with one eyebrow cocked.
"Well, it's more of a quid pro quo, really," Annabelle replied, sitting back down in her chair. If you agree, I'd be willing to schedule Katie for an auction slot toward the end of the night. Slaves in the third group tend to go for significantly less money than the others. You could save thousands."
"What d'you want me to do?" I interjected bluntly.
Annabelle leaned back, crossing her legs confidently. "Seeing as you're the first champion we've ever had, a lot of this is unchartered territory. Some in the events committee thought it would be a nice if you came onstage to accept an award as champion and answered a few questions."
"No," I replied instantly, chuckling in disbelief. "Not a chance."
"That's fine," Annabelle replied loftily. "Just know that there's no guarantee that you'll win Katie if she's auctioned in the first group. Big spenders like to buy early in the evening." My eyes narrowed as I stared at her.
"You told me I had nothing to worry about," I countered. "I thought nobody's ever gone for more than 800 thousand."
"That's true," Annabelle said, casually inspecting her fingernails. "I just wanted to point out that Katie would be considerably safer in group three as opposed to group one. And you'd also save some money. I'd hate for Katie to go home tonight with some sex-craved pervert because you had a bit of stage fright." Annabelle shrugged and turned toward her computer screen. "But it's up to you. It was just a thought."
I stared at her, my mind reeling. Dammit! I hated how this woman always managed to have the upper hand! The last thing I wanted to do was go up onstage and be interviewed in front of god-only-knows how many people.
"What kinds of questions would I be asked?" I asked begrudgingly, rolling my eyes.
"I have no clue," Annabelle replied, tapping away on her keyboard as if she'd already lost interest. "Shouldn't be more than a few minutes worth, I'm guessing. Like I said, this would be the first time it's been done. You're kind of the guinea pig."
After a brief pause, I spat "Fine," and looked away, both irritated at my acquiescence as well as my likening to a fucking rodent.
Annabelle stopped typing and looked back at me pleasantly from her computer. "Delightful," she replied. "I'll have your belongings returned to your suite asap. Be at the stadium no later than 5:00 for pre-show set-up, and I'll make sure that Katie's placed in auction group three. This'll be fun!"
"Loads," I muttered, turning and walking away.
Pulling open the door, Annabelle called after me, "Oh- and use your Irish accent tonight. Your American's good but it sounds a bit forced. Your Irish tongue is much more natural. The guests'll love it."
Shit, my Irish accent. I hadn't thought to use my accent in days. Luckily, my cover appeared to have remained intact. So much, in fact, that my American accent sounded forced.
Without saying another word, I exited her office, walking briskly past the new receptionist and into the pouring rain. I took a moment to gather my thoughts. Stark naked, I stood there, allowing the rain to wash over me. I felt dirty after all the concessions I'd made. Nothing so far had turned out the way I'd hoped it would. I needed to get back to the suite. Take a shower. Clear my head. Be rid of the insanity for a while.
I was snapped out of my pity party by wolf-whistles from the castle cross-bridge above me. I craned my head up to see two men in ponchos leaning over the handrail, staring down at me. Willing myself to honor my new vow to choose my battles more wisely, I merely turned and walked away. They continued whistling and taunting me as I climbed the ramp and disappeared behind the castle wall.
A few minutes later, I was climbing the steps of my suite. I was so lost in thought that I didn't even notice Eric and June standing at the landing, staying dry beneath the stoop of my front door.
"There she is!" Eric said cheerfully. June bowed her head as I approached. "Aaand she's naked," he added.
"Very astute of you," I said dryly as I brushed by him.
"I'll bet there's an interesting story behind that," Eric said chuckling.
"You'd win that bet," I answered, swiping my key card through the pad on the door. "What can I do for you, Eric?"
"We were actually wondering if we could entice you with a philly cheesesteak," he began before taking a pause. "-in exchange for the use of your pool?" He waived a long paper-wrapped sandwich in the air. "They closed the lake because of the thunder."
"Ugh, that sounds delicious... but not today," I replied, opening the door. "You seriously wouldn't believe what I've been through over the last 24 hours."
Eric laughed, "This is the kingdom. I can imagine."
Stepping inside, I turned to face the two of them. "I'm sorry, I just have to be alone for a bit."
"No worries, I understand" He said, holding up his free hand. "Here-" he offered forward the cheesesteak. "Consider it a rain-check."
Giving a weak smile, I took the rolled up sandwich from him. "Thanks." I hadn't eaten anything all day and I really was starving.
"Make sure you share with the blonde," Eric said as he turned to leave.
"Yeah... that won't be possible," I replied. "Brandy's gone."
Spinning back around, Eric raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? What happened?"
"I'll explain it all to you later," I answered. Eric stared at me, clearly unwilling to leave without the details. "I promise."
"You better," Eric said, pointing his finger at me before turning back around to descend the staircase.
As he and June walked away, I noticed they'd left a large black suitcase on the stoop.
"You left your bag," I called to them.
"That's not ours," Eric replied. "It was sitting there when we got here."
I stepped toward the suitcase, studying it suspiciously. It was a hard suitcase with wheels on the bottom, roughly 3 feet in height. I guessed that it probably contained my stuff that was taken from the suite last night.
"Stay out of trouble!" Eric called from the bottom of the stairs. I playfully flashed him a middle finger before grabbing the handle of the suitcase and dragging it over the threshold of the door.
Kicking the door closed behind me, I rolled the suitcase into the foyer and left it upright next to the entry table. I then proceeded to unwrap and devour my cheesesteak.
I couldn't remember ever eating something so delicious. Thinking back, I really hadn't eaten anything in 24 hours...
Breathing heavily through my nose as I chewed, I suddenly realized how badly I smelled. I guess that'll happen when you're held prisoner in a humid holding cell and forced to have endless orgasms... Even after the rain had rinsed me off, I could still feel the layer of sweat that had coated my body hours earlier.
Within minutes, I'd scarfed down my sandwich and was stepping eagerly into the walk-in shower. I cranked the water to near scalding and sat down on the tiled floor. It felt amazing. I don't think I moved from that position for over 20 minutes.
When I could no longer justify the excess waste of water, I exited the shower, wrapped my hair in a towel, and climbed back into bed for a power nap. The LED clock on the nightstand now read 4:23pm. Not trusting myself to wake up on my own in time for pre-show set-up, or whatever that meant, I set the alarm for 4:45pm.
Rolling over, I pulled the covers over me and curled into fetal position. Not surprisingly, my fondest moments over the past several days had all been found in the solitude of my bed. After tonight, I silently vowed to stay refined to the suite for a solid week. No good had come of venturing outside.
My peace and quiet lasted approximately 10 seconds until I suddenly heard a knock at the door. Groaning, I rolled over onto my stomach and slammed the pillow over my head. To my frustration, however, the knocking didn't cease. Nearly a minute later, whoever was at the door still hadn't gotten the clue.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" I said out loud, kicking the covers off of me and scrambling furiously to my feet. I stormed to the front door and yanked it wide open, unapologetically nude with one hand on my hip. "What?!" I shouted.
Standing in the doorway was a security guard holding several garment bags.
"I was ordered to drop off your clothes," he answered awkwardly, holding them out to me. "Everything's been washed and dry-cleaned," I grabbed them from him.
"Also, you've been requested to wear this for your appearance on stage this evening," he added, nodding to the see-through garment bag on top. I fought the urge to cuss as I laid eyes on a skimpy purple dress and black wedge heels dangling from the hanger.
"And I'm guessing that request isn't actually a request," I asked dryly.
"I couldn't tell you, ma'am," the guard answered shortly.
"Of course not. Thank you," I added sarcastically before abruptly closing the door in his face. I knew I was acting like a bitch, but I sincerely felt that I had every reason to do so. Not only was I basically being blackmailed into going on stage tonight, but now was being made to dress up.
As I turned to walk back toward the bedroom, my eyes suddenly caught the large black suitcase that I'd pulled inside earlier. Then, it dawned on me- if I was holding my clothes, what was in the suitcase?
Tossing the garment bags on the entry table, I knelt to the ground and laid the suitcase down long-ways. Pressing on the latch buttons on either side did nothing. I guessed that it had something to do with the 3-digit combination lock next to each latch. Both locks were set to 000. My curiosity ended up getting the better of me and I spent the next 10 minutes testing out random number combinations.
To my frustration, I suddenly realized that I'd blown my opportunity to get a power nap. Glancing toward the kitchen, I could just make out 4:36 on the microwave's clock. "Dammit!" I said out loud, pushing the suitcase away with my feet. After a deep sigh, I decided to bite the bullet and just get myself ready for the auction. The thought of attending, let along speaking at this thing made my skin crawl.
I stood up and removed the purple dress and heels from the garment bag. Pulling the towel from my head, I begrudgingly stepped into the dress. It felt very expensive. Walking into the bathroom, I zipped it up from the back and gave a small twirl. To my pleasant surprise, it didn't look completely ridiculous. It was flowier than I thought and the shade of purple even complimented my red hair (which was rare for me). Not that I cared about looking good for any of these assholes, but it was a confidence booster to feel classy for a change.
I slipped on the wedge heels, gurgled some mouthwash, and tossed my hair over my shoulder. And with that, I was ready to go. With my key card and phone in hand, I headed out the front door.
To my relief, it had stopped raining and the setting sun was now peaking through the clouds. The square was now filled with people. As I looked around, I suddenly didn't feel so out of place. Most of the men wore black suits and sports jackets and the women accompanying them were dressed similarly to how I was. With exception to the collars, leashes, gags, and restraints, of course. The entire street leading down to the stadium was decked out in lights and Gatsby-style decorations. A string-quartet was playing in the circle and waitresses in black mingled throughout the crowd delivering glasses of Champagne. Clearly, they were trying to offset the creepiness of hosting a slave auction by branding it as a classy affair.
I could feel people staring up at me as I descended the stairs of the castle. I avoided eye-contact with anyone and pulled out my phone to give me an excuse to keep my head down. Even though none of these people were Ren. Faire regulars, I couldn't help fearing that at any moment, someone might pop out of the crowd and say, 'Ally?! Oh my gosh, what are you doing here?!'
Weaving through the crowd, I speed-walked down Centre-street, finding it difficult to maintain my balance on the cobblestone street in my wedge heels. At the first opportunity, I snagged a Champagne glass from one of the waitresses holding a tray. I downed it in a single gulp and returned it to the tray. Another four of those, and the night might actually be semi-tolerable, I thought...
Eventually, I arrived at the front of the stadium where several lines had formed behind the turnstile gates. They weren't letting people in yet. I walked up towards the front of the line to speak to the security guards that stood at attention.
"Excuse me, I'm speaking or... presenting or something tonight. Do you know where I'm supposed to go?" I asked in my Irish accent. I figured now was as good a time as any to get into character.
"Do you have your key card?" the closest guard asked in reply.
I held it out to him and he scanned it with his cell-phone.
"Okay Miss O'Connell, right this way please," he said, stepping in front of the first guest and gesturing for me to enter through the turnstile. "You'll be headed to Green Room A. Once you head up the stairs, you'll want to turn right and continue-"
"I know where it is, thanks," I cut him off as I walked through the turnstile. The green rooms were places on either side of the stage where performers hung out and prepped prior to a performance.
The Gatsby-style decorations from Centre Street continued into the stadium. Throughout the lobby and down the side wings were lavish tables covered with desserts and hor d'oeuvres. Other than a few waitresses that were arranging the tables, the stadium was empty. The wooden Renaissance-style chandeliers had been replaced with golden and crystal ones. I hated admitting it to myself, but the transformation really was magnificent. Walking down the stretch of hallway, I grabbed several hor d'oeuvres as I passed them. As good as the cheesesteak was, I was still pretty hungry. At the end of the hallway, I grabbed another glass of Champagne from a table. So long as I kept hydrated, things were gonna be just fine, I told myself.
When I reached Green Room A, I walked in to find about a dozen men dressed in black jeans and t-shirts wearing headsets. Most were standing around chatting while others were sitting on the couches playing on their phones. Several men in tuxedos sat in the swivel chairs facing the mirror and had women assisting them, either by fixing their hair or applying make-up.
One of the men wearing a headset called over to me. "Jodie O'Connell?"
"Present," I answered, raising my glass in the air. To my surprise, everyone in the room turned to look at me and began applauding.
Already feeling the satisfying effects of the alcohol, I responded by giving a little curtsy. The man who called my name walked up to me. He to be in his early 30's and had wavy, bleach-blond hair. He also appeared to be wearing eye-liner.
"Welcome!" He said effeminately. "We're so excited that you agreed to do this!"
"That makes one of us," I said sarcastically with a fake smile.
"Oh, I promise it'll be painless," he said quickly, placing his hand on my arm. "We'll get you on stage, hand you a trophy, ask you a few questions, and then you'll be on your way. Sound good?"
"Yay," I answered, taking another drink of Champagne. I could definitely feel the alcohol having its effect on me. This was good.
"Follow me over to our beauty station," he said, pulling me by the hand towards one of the unoccupied swivel chairs on the opposite sides of the room. If it weren't for the fact that this guy was almost certainly gay, I'd have yanked my hand away from him immediately. But I always did have a soft spot for gay and trans guys.
"Go ahead and have a seat," he said. I sat down, facing the mirror, tossing my phone and key card on the counter in front of me. "Once Tina's done with Mr. Aims, she'll fix up your hair and make- You know what..." he turned and called across the room to where the men in tuxedos were getting made up. "Tina, take your time. I'll take over for Jodie here." He turned back to me. "This hair is just too stunning to pass off to Tina. Are you a natural ginger?"
"Yep," I replied.
"Me too!" he replied. "Obviously, I bleach, but I used to look perm it out like Annie straight through high school. I'm Angelo, by the way."
Angelo? Yep, I thought. Definitely gay. "Nice to meet you, Angelo," I replied.
"The pleasure's mine," he answered, running his hands through my hair.
"So, what brought you into the sex-slavery business?" I asked flippantly, not wanting to give him a complete pass just because of my affinity for gays.
"That, I'm afraid," he replied lowering his voice, "-is a long story for another time. Ugh, I'm so jealous of this thick head of hair!" he continued. "You must get compliments constantly."
"Only when I cosplay," I said jokingly.
"I bet you do," Angelo shot back. "Okay, I'm envisioning a sleek updo to show off that neck line of yours. What do you think?"
"Sure, knock yourself out," I replied, finishing the last gulp of my Champagne. I had no idea what a sleek updo was, but more importantly, I didn't care.
"Excellent," Angelo replied as he attacked my hair with a large round brush. "And once we're all done, I'm sure we can find you some jewelry to complete the ensemble. I'm guessing that accessories were the last thing you imagined you'd be needing at the Kingdom."
"I've never been a jewelry kind of girl," I replied.
"Of course you're not. The pretty girls never need the same kind of glitz that we lessers do," he answered, playfully hitting my shoulder. Okay, I officially liked Angelo. I could easily see myself having a girls' night out with him.
Angelo continued chit-chatting away while he worked on my hair. He was very good. I hadn't gotten my hair professionally done since my senior prom. I couldn't help but feel my confidence swell with each passing minute. After a solid 25 minutes of ironing, curling, bobby-pinning, and hair-spraying, my new do was complete. And it looked pretty fantastic. The make-up portion took considerably less time because I insisted on minimal application. I'd never been a big fan of make-up.
Angelo and I continued talking even after he'd finished. I was surprised by how starved I was for a bit of normal human interaction. I really hadn't spoken casually to anyone in days.
"Miss O'Connell," said a deep voice from behind Angelo. Angelo bowed slightly toward the voice and stepped away, giving me the impression that whoever this was, it must have been someone important. A suave looking man in a tuxedo stepped forward. He looked to be about 40 and had slicked back hair. "I'm Theo Collins. I'll be the one presenting your award tonight."
"Good to know," I said with a fake smile.
Sitting down in the swivel chair next to me, he turned to face me. I continued facing straight ahead, looking only at him through his reflection in the mirror. Noticing that I was not going to pay him the courtesy of looking at him directly, he swiveled his chair to face the mirror as well.
"So, basically, I wanted to give you a run-down of how this is going to work," he began. "In a few minutes, I'll welcome the guests over the loudspeaker. That'll be your 15 minute call to places. At 6 o'clock, I'll announce the start of the show. Dancers will perform a number and then I'll take the stage to say a few words. After that, I'll introduce you as our guest of honor. When you hear your name, you'll come out from side-stage left and accept your award. From there, I'll motion you to take a seat in opposite me-"
"Yeah," I interrupted him. "I know how to walk across a stage and sit down. All I really need to know is what questions you'll be asking me."
The man named Theo blinked, clearly surprised by my tone. "Sure," he replied awkwardly. "Well, for starters, I'll ask you where you're from, and what prompted you to visit the Kingdom for a second year. I'll also ask you about your experiences during the hunt. What you were feeling. What was going through your mind. Those kinds of things."
"Got it," I replied, standing to my feet.
"And after that, we'll both stand up and you'll ex-" Theo continued
"If you mansplain to me how to walk off a stage, I'm gonna slap you," I said to him.
Theo looked away, placing both hands up in the air defensively.
"I'll just see you out there," he said, clearly perturbed.
Leaving my belongings on the counter, I turned and walked back toward the door I'd entered through. I needed another glass of Champagne. When I reached the door, I heard Angelo call after me.
"Hold it, ginger spice!" Angelo was jogging up to me holding a gold necklace and earrings. "Try these on."
"Beautiful," I replied. "Love the necklace, but I'm gonna pass on the earrings."
Angelo sighed dramatically, pocketing the earrings. "Not a makeup girl, not an earring girl, you're killing me, you know that?" He stepped behind me and wrapped the necklace over my chest. "Now, don't you go pawning this off. It's was my mom's."
"Woah... really?" I asked, suddenly feeling both touched and uncomfortable to be wearing a family heirloom.
"Oh, she's not dead or anything. It was my mom's, as in, before I took it from her jewelry box when I was 9," he added, making me snort with laughter. I felt him lock the clasp in the back. "Where are you off to, by the way?" he asked.
"Getting more Champagne," I replied with a grin. "Want some?"
"Yes please," he whispered, squeezing my arm. "Just don't wander off too far. You've only got about 15 minutes til you need to get mic'd and preset."
"20 minutes, got it," I said playfully with a wink.
"You're bad!" he clapped back as I exited into the stadium wing.
The wide hallway was now filled with people and jazz music piped loudly through the speakers. Like the scene on Centre Street, waitresses meandered through the masses with trays of Champagne.
I wasted no time making my way to the nearest Champagne waitress and grabbing another glass. With one hand, I sipped away at my liquid confidence and with the other hand, I filled a plate with several mini cheesecake squares. The biggest plus about my flowy dress was it's forgiving qualities. I didn't have to worry about starving myself in order to hide my stomach.
I walked around for the next 10 minutes, trying out as many different desserts as I could and drinking my Champagne. I was officially tipsy at this point.
After the man named Theo had given an announcement from the stage, people had begun to filter into the arena towards their seats. The program was getting close to starting. Grabbing two more glasses, one for me and another for Angelo, I decided to head back to the green room.
Reentering the green room, I walked back over to my hair and makeup station to grab my phone. Then, I heard Angelo's voice call out to me.
"There she is, right on time! Jodie, this way please!" Angelo was standing by the stage door and was waving his hand for me to join him. I joined him next to a cart filled with electronics and batteries. "Stage left, copy," Angelo said into his headset.
"This is for you," I said, handing him the glass of Champagne.
"Oh my god, you're amazing," he whispered, grabbing the glass and downing it quickly. "Fuuuck, that's good. Okay," he added, changing gears, "-let's get you mic'd up. Turn around for me please?"
Everything Angelo did felt needlessly rushed. If it weren't for the fact that he was so likable, he'd really be stressing me out. I turned and felt him attaching a mic pack to the back of my dress. Next, I felt him running a cord up my neck and over my ear.
After applying a few strips of tape to my neck and temple, he spoke into his headset, "Mic check ready for guest 1." And then he gave me a nod. "Say a few words please."
"Um... fuck fuckity fuck. Fuckity fuck-fuck." I replied.
"Perfect," Angelo said, taking me by the arm and leading me through the stage door. "You are aaall fucking set."
We entered the wing of the stage and stopped just short of the closed red curtains. Dozens of scantily clad women dolled up in feathers could be seen stretching and warming up on the stage. On the other side of the curtain, I could hear the murmur of the crowd filling the arena.
"Okay," Angelo said, breaking the silence. "You can hang out here until I give you your cue to enter. But we've still got like 6, 7 minutes yet. How are you feeling? Nervous?"
I shrugged, taking the last swig of Champagne in my glass.
"Of course you're not. You're gonna slay," he said, taking my empty glass from me. "Okay, wait here, I'll be back before your entrance. Have any questions, just ask anyone who's wearing Walmart." He said, motioning to his black t-shirt. Then, he turned and walked away.
I chuckled as I watched him speed-walk back to the green room. What a quirky guy. Turning back around, I could see the man named Theo talking to stage-hands and pointing to what looked to be a script. I decided to pull out my phone to pass the time.
A few minutes later, Angelo reappeared by my side. "Okay, you ready?" he asked.
"Yep," I replied.
"Fantastic," he said, lifting his hand up to his headset. "Guest 1 is go for places... Copy." Then he gave two loud claps and called out, "Places everybody!!"
The women dressed in feathers quickly lined up across the stage, carrying a wooden chair with them and posing behind it. A few seconds later, the back stage lights dimmed and music began to play.
Theo Collins' announcer-style voice suddenly echoed through the arena. "Gentlemen and ladies, we welcome you to an evening of fortune and prosperity. An evening where fantasies manifest and dreams come true. I give you... the 3rd annual Kingdom Slaaaave Auction!!"
The curtains suddenly opened and the dancers sprang into action. I could hear the crowd cheering as the women danced suggestively with their chair props. After two minutes of leaps and high-kicks, the song finally ended and the performers left the stage, leaving two chairs in the center.
"Okay," Angelo said, turning to me and grabbing my phone. "I'll hold this for you. Just be yourself and you'll do great." I flashed him a thumbs up, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. It was hardly the first time I'd appeared on this stage before, but the circumstances had certainly changed.
Theo Collins walked to center stage, thanking the performers and welcoming the crowd once again. "While I look around and see many familiar faces in this audience," he began, "-this year also happens to be a year of firsts," Theo explained. "One of the most exciting firsts, however, was the doing of a very special woman. A woman who overcame adversity with both bravery and cunning. I'd like to welcome to the stage, the Kingdom's very first champion of the hunt- Jodie O'Connell!"
I stepped out from behind the curtain and was met with whistles and thunderous applause. The arena was packed. Not only were almost all of the seats filled, but the field level had been decked out with what looked like several hundred more chairs. I'd never seen so many people crammed in there before. I attempted a fake smile and gave a small wave.
But just then, as my shitty luck would have it, I felt my ankle roll to the side and I tumbled onto the stage. An audible gasp filled the area as I collided with the ground. Fuck!
"I'm okay!" I said, sticking my hand up in the ai9r. To my surprise, my voice echoed loudly throughout the arena, indicating that my mic was now hot. The audience laughed and cheered as I jumped quickly to my feet.
"And she's up!" said Theo, laughing. "What a woman! Come take a seat. Quickly, before the stage attacks again!"
I walked over to the chair across from Theo, laughing politely at his lame-ass joke. We both took our seats.
"Jodie, thank you so much for joining us. You look lovely, by the way." Theo said.
"Thank you," I replied.
"How are you tonight? Besides any minor scrapes and bruises you got on your way in?" Theo asked.
"A bit tipsy," I said. "As you might have guessed."
"Look around. I think you're in good company tonight," he replied, garnering cheers from all the drunks in the audience. "Well, I'd like to first start by saying congratulations!"
"Thanks," I said politely.
"Nobody's ever won the hunt before. You're the very first! Tell me- how does it feel?" He asked.
"Good," I replied shortly.
Theo paused, waiting awkwardly for me to collaborate, before replying. "Good. Well, there you have it, folks. It feels good. Thank you for coming tonight, Jodie. It was lovely to meet you. Please watch your step on the way out."
I stood up and pretended to turn and leave.
"I'm kidding! I'm kidding," Theo chided. "Sit down." I took my seat again and crossed my legs. Theo leaned forward and continued, "So, I understand that this is your second year at the Kingdom, which means that you've experienced the hunt before. What was different about this time?"
"Um..." I replied. What was different? "Well, for one thing, I was in better shape this year. Actually made it to the gym a few times." The audience's laughter told me they bought my lie. "And I just really didn't want to be someone's bitch for the next three months," I added.
Theo laughed. "I imagine that's one hell of a motivator," he replied. "Were you scared at all while you were out there? You strike me as a very confident woman. Did fear drive any of your decisions?"
"Adrenaline, sure," I replied. "Not so much fear though."
Theo nodded courteously. "Did you have any encounters while you were out there? Any run-ins with other contestants or hunters?"
"No, not really," I lied. I wanted this interview to be over. "Just kept moving until I found two unlocking stations. It was pretty uneventful, actually."
"Wow," Theo replied. "A record number of hunters and contestants this year and you managed to make it through unnoticed. Remarkable."
"I'm basically a ninja," I said with a smile.
"Apparently!" Theo answered, laughing. "Now, tell me about your lovely accent. Where are you from?"
"I'm from Ireland," I lied. "Born and raised."
"Ireland! Quite a long way from home," he replied. "What prompted you to visit the Kingdom?"
I lifted my hand and made the universal sign for rubbing money together, which met the laughter of the crowd.
"Money?!" Theo asked, leaning forward. "It wasn't the sex?"
I shook my head no.
"The kink?" he asked
I shook my head no.
"The satisfaction of serving a male master?" He pressed, followed by cheers from the audience.
"Nope," I answered. "Just the money. There's not a whole lot of jobs that allow you to work 3 months out of the year and still be able to afford Gucci." The audience roared with laughter.
"I would guess not!" Theo replied. "Very resourceful of you. Well, before we move on with the program, I have one more question for you."
"What's that?" I asked.
"Perhaps one of the best known perks of being champion of the hunt is having the privilege of staying at the luxurious castle suite." To my surprise, this last statement was met with thunderous boos and hisses throughout the arena. I looked around in shock. I wasn't expecting any boos tonight. "As you can see," Theo continued, "-many are having difficulty being happy for you. Returning guests are aware that the castle suite is auctioned off each year. Last year, I believe it went for what- 2.7 million? So, my question for you is- when can we all come over for a pool party?" The boo's suddenly changed from boos to cheers. "It seems rude for you to keep such an amenity all to yourself! Am I right, gang?" He asked the audience. More cheers filled the air.
Laughing politely, I replied, "Tell you what- if any you ladies out there would like come over for a bit of cock-free pool time, I'd be happy to give you refuge." A mixture of laughter and groans filled the arena.
"Jodie O'Connell, everyone!" Theo said loudly, standing to his feet. The audience erupted into applause. Theo stepped over to me, presumably to give me a hug, but I stood and walked away before he had the chance. "Champion of the hunt!" he called after me. I waived politely to the audience as I exited the stage. Angelo was right where I'd left him, clapping and bouncing up and down like a kid.
"You were fucking amazing," he said, wrapping his arm around me as if we'd known each other for years. "And the snub at the end was brilliant," he added in a lower voice. "Theo's a total dick."
We walked over the green room entrance and he held the door open for me. "I've gotta stay backstage," he said, handing me back my phone. "But you're welcome to hang out here for as long as you'd like. Reji here will help you get out of your microphone."
Suddenly, I jumped as I felt hands on my back.
"Sorry, just me," I heard a man's voice say. I turned my head to see a shorter guy in black undoing my mic pack.
"Jodie, Reji, Reji, Jodie," Angelo introduced us. "Now you're friends too. I've gotta run. If you're around afterwards, we could go grab a drink. Totally up to you!"
"Maybe," I replied. "Thanks for everything."
"You bet," he said, turning to leave. "And don't lose my necklace!" The door shut behind him, leaving me alone with Reji. I'd almost forgot about the necklace. Oh well, I'd find a way to get it back to him.
"And, you're set," Reji said as he pulled the last bit of tape from my mic cord.
"Thanks," I replied. "Sooo, I kind of promised someone that I'd bid on her tonight. How do I do that?"
"Oh," Reji replied. "Um... I'm honestly not sure the bidding works. I think you use your keycard or something? I'd just ask an usher. They'll know."
"Right," I replied. "Thanks."
Grabbing my keycard from my hair and makeup station where I left it, I headed out into the stadium wing. Other than a few stragglers eating hor d'oeuvres, most guests appeared to have made their way into the arena. Walking toward the front entrance, I saw several female ushers standing along the wall.
"Great job up there," one of them said upon seeing me.
"Oh, thanks," I replied sheepishly. "Other than wiping out, you mean."
"Nonsense," she replied. "You did great. Can I help you find a seat?"
"Um, sure," I answered. "I'm... actually clueless as to how this works? How do I bid?"
The woman explained, "So, once you're seated, you'll insert your keycard into the armrest of your chair which will activate a touchpad. That will allow you to place your bids."
"Oh," I replied. "That's easy enough. How long does this typically go?"
"Well, the bidding just started, so I'd say about 3 hours," the woman replied.
"Ugh, if that's the case, I might wait out here for a bit. I was told that a friend of mine would be in the third group," I explained. "Do you know when that'll start?"
The woman cocked her head in confusion. "Third group?" she asked.
"Yeah," I replied. "I was told that there'd be three groups? Third group candidates tend to go for less money?"
"I'm sorry," she said courteously. "I'm afraid I don't know anything about that."
It suddenly crossed my mind that Annabelle may have hustled me. Either this girl was clueless or I'd just been conned me into giving an onstage interview. Not wanting to risk missing Katie when she went up for auction, I decided not to wait outside.
"Never mind, I'll grab a seat now," I said, now finding myself in a terrible mood. Dammit I hated Annabelle!
"Okay, follow me please," the woman said. I followed her through the large tunnel main that lead into the arena.
An auctioneer with a handlebar mustache now stood onstage behind a podium, speaking rapidly in monotone. Next to him was a naked brunette wearing only a collar, ballgag, armbinder, and a pair of silver high heels. There were giant projection screens on either side of the stage that displayed scoreboards of sorts. Each time someone placed a bit, the bidder's name would appear on the screen along with a dollar amount next to it. The bids for the brunette were currently up to $47,000.
"This way, ma'am," the usher said to me, snapping me out of my gaze. I followed her up the stairs to an empty seat on the mezzanine level. I could feel people staring as I passed by. Clearly, people were recognizing me as the champion who'd just appeared on stage. Taking my seat, I proceeded to inspect my armrest.
Just as the usher had explained, the armrest of every chair now sported a card-slot and touchpad. How they'd installed new armrests in every seat since Nott's Fair closed, I had no earthly idea. But upon closer inspection, I saw long grooves in the side where a cap must have once rested.
"No way," I muttered in amazement, realizing that these contraptions must have been enclosed in a plastic casing the entire time. Ever since the new stadium had been built 5 years ago! How could I have been operations manager while so much was happening right under my nose?!
After I was finished marveling at my own stupidity, I inserted my keycard as the usher had explained. The touchpad screen beneath suddenly lit up with the words "Welcome to the Kingdom". From there, the screen changed to my (Jodie's) picture, along with her name.
"IS THIS YOU?" The screen read.
I pressed the "YES" button beneath.
From there, the screen changed to an image of the brunette on the stage. Beneath her picture was her name and statistics. I scrolled down on the touchpad, reading all about Erica Arbor. She was 27, 123 lbs, C-cup, brunette, hazel eyes, yada yada. Above her picture was a button that read "PLACE BID". I straightened my finger, all-the-sudden paranoid that I'd accidentally press it.
But moments later, the button suddenly greyed out. I glanced up at the stage to see the word "SOLD" appear across both screens in big red letters.
"And soooold!" The auctioneer announced in his nasal monotone voice, pounding his gavel on the podium in front of him. "Sold to Larry Boyd for seventy-one thousand dollars. Congratulations, Larry." There were some applause in the audience, but most just remained still, staring ahead at the stage.
Just then, I watched in confusion as the brunette began gliding across of the stage. She literally glided. Her legs weren't moving, but she was moving toward the stage wing... I leaned forward in my seat, squinting to make sense of what I was looking at. A moment later, I understood. The woman name Erica was standing atop a circular metal platform no wider than three feet in diameter. Through the gap between her ankles, I could see a single metal pole protruding from the center of the platform.
My mouth dropped as I suddenly understood why the woman appeared to have such good balance as the platform glided quickly across the stage floor. The pipe extended upward from the platform all the way into her pussy. She was impaled! As I continued to stare, I could see that her silver high heels weren't high heels at all. But they were, rather, steel boots attached to the platform that kept her on her tiptoes and unable to lift herself free. She was essentially locked in a standing position by a stationary dildo pole!
I was so busy ogling at Erica's dildo contraption that I completely missed the next woman gliding to center stage. My touchpad suddenly changed from Erica's information to stats for a blonde named Brooke Ganes'. Brooke was positioned on a dildo platform just as Erica had been.
"Aaand next, we've got Brooke Ganes. We'll start the bidding at ten thousand. Ten thousand. Do I hear ten thousand. Do I hear fifteen thousand? Fifteen? Fifteen, fifteen thousand? Twenty thousand, twenty-five thousand-"
Names appeared on the mega-screens one below the other as the price-tag climbed. I couldn't help but stare at the gagged and restrained girl standing tiptoed atop her dildo prison.
Less than a minute later, Brooke had sold for $34,000. As twisted and fucked up as this all was, I couldn't help but be impressed by the organization and execution of it all. Everything seemed so legit and sophisticated. Whoever was the brainchild behind this whole operation really had thought of everything.
I sat patiently as woman after woman was sold. Some went for as little as $17,000 while others sold for over 500,000. As the night went on, the crowd began to thin and more and more people began to leave the arena. This was good, I thought. By the time Katie came on the auction block, maybe there'd only be a handful of people left.
After all of those glasses of Champagne earlier, I suddenly realized how badly I had to take a piss. I crossed my legs and shifted in my seat, trying to relieve the pressure on my bladder. I could have gone to the restroom at any point during the last two and a half hours, but no. That would've made too much fucking sense. Now, I had to be miserable holding it until Katie came up.
Suddenly, the auctioneer broke from his routine to clear his throat and address the audience. "Gentlemen, please be advised that we have now reached our final 10 contestants. I repeat, there will only be 10 more contestants auctioned off this evening."
I leaned forward, preparing myself for Katie's entrance. I was suddenly extremely nervous. This was it. Looking around the arena, I could see that only about a third of the audience was still present.
As the bidding began for the first of the remaining 10 women, my heart suddenly dropped in my chest. The bids were high. Abnormally high, it seemed. The first woman was sold for $540,000. The second woman sold for $470,000. I was now all but certain that Annabelle had screwed me over. The higher spenders hadn't favored the beginning of the evening as she claimed they would. Once the next woman sold for $615,000, it was now abundantly clear that the wealthiest bidders had waited until the very end to make their purchases. My face flushed with rage as I processed Annabelle's con.
Of the last 9 contestants, the lowest bid had been $410,000. Some of these women weren't even all that pretty! I was angry enough to spit nails. How could I have been foolish enough to take Annabelle at her word?!
But in a split second, my outrage ceased to be a priority. Because, suddenly gliding across the stage on a dildo-platform was the naked form of Katie. Her curly brown hair had been pulled back into a bun and she was no longer wearing her glasses. The poor girl looked genuinely terrified. My heart rate quickened as her smiling mug shot and name appeared on my touch screen.
"And for our final auction item of the evening, we have Katie Huff," the auctioneer said. "We'll begin the bidding at fifty thousand. Do I have fifty? Fifty? Sixty? Seventy? I see seventy, do I have eighty?" My heart was now racing. Less than 10 seconds in, and the bid was already to $100,000! Annabelle was such a BITCH for putting Katie last!
My hand trembled as I steadied my finger over the PLACE BID button. Suddenly terrified that my touchpad might not work, I tested out the button. The name JODIE O'CONNELL suddenly appeared on the board next to the numbers 110,000.
"One hundred ten!" the auctioneer said. "Do I have one-twenty? One-twenty? One-thirty! One-forty!"
Katie had her face craned up toward the screen on her right and was squinting to see the results. Half a minute later, the price had risen to $240,000. Another half minute later, it was at $320,000. Every so often, I placed another bid to remind Katie that I was still here. Although, given her squinting expression, I had no clue if she could even see my name up there.
As the number climbed higher, more and more people stood to their feet and made their way towards the exits of the arena. Eventually, the bidding slowed at around $670,000. I placed my bid at $680,000. I couldn't believe the price had gotten so high! That's not to say that Katie wasn't attractive. To the contrary, I personally thought Katie was one of the prettier women I'd seen tonight. But she was also very petite and was considerably less curvy than some of the women with supermodel physiques that had sold earlier for half that amount.
"Six-ninety, six-ninety. Do I have six-ninety?" the auctioneer prodded. "Six-ninety going once... going twice..."
Suddenly, the numbers 690,000 appeared across the screen. The name next to it suddenly made me feel sick to my stomach. The name read Tom Murphy. Tom Murphy was the fucking machine guy who I'd publicly humiliated in Cedar Square only a few days earlier.
"Six-eighty to new bidder! Do I hear six-ninety?" I hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. Should I wait a few seconds? Did he know he was bidding against me? After about 5 seconds, I held my breath and pressed the button again.
"Six-ninety!" the auctioneer said. "Do I hear seven hundred?" Almost instantly, Tom Murphy's name appeared on the screen again next to the number 710,000. "Seven hundred, do I have seven-ten?" I pressed the button again.
This back and forth continued for the next minute. Eventually, the auctioneer didn't even have enough time to speak my bid out loud before Murphy had placed his counter-offer. I couldn't believe what was happening. The bid was now up to $900,000! Murphy was clearly exacting his revenge on me. I was now sure of it. I was angry enough to scream. What made the whole situation unbearable was the fact that I'd indirectly brought this on myself. Had I just walked away from Murphy's demonstration without incident, none of this might be happening. I silently cursed myself. I'd clearly pissed off the wrong wealthy businessman...
I pressed the button again, raising my bid to $910,000. I contemplated what would happen if I reached a million. A million dollars was all I had! Less than that actually, after my clothing purchases. Was Murphy really vindictive enough to pay $1,000,000 for Katie in order to piss me off? Or was he just running up the price I'd pay out of spite?
I pressed the button again, raising my bid to $930,000. Murphy instantly countered to $940,000. The audience members that remained in the arena were now cheering. The loudest cheers seemed to be coming from the front left of the field level, seemingly where Murphy was seated. Looking closer, I could make out the back of Murphy's bald head on the front row. Bastard!
My heart raced as I raised the bid to $950,000. Then $970,000. Then $990,000. I had bid nearly a million dollars! A million dollars! The thought of me spending that much money on anything was unthinkable, let alone on a slave...
Suddenly, my worst fears became realized as I watched Tom Murphy's name appear next to the numbers 1,000,000. The remaining audience went crazy.
"ONE MILLION DOLLARS!" the auctioneer yelled. "The first time in Kingdom history, a slave has broken the one million dollar barrier!"
Katie looked terrified as she squinted up at the screen on her right. I took a deep breath as my mind raced. Now what?!
"Do I have a million-ten?!" the auctioneer asked excitedly. "A million-ten?"
I felt like I was gonna throw up. I had to keep going. I had no idea how I'd ever pay back the money, but I couldn't allow Katie to leave with this monster! I had no choice but to keep bidding. I held my breath and pressed the button.
Nothing happened. I pressed it again. Nothing... Glancing down at the touchpad, my heart suddenly sank as I saw that the PLACE BID button had greyed out. Beneath the button was now a pop-up notice that read "INSUFFICIENT FUNDS". The audience was now chanting "Million-ten! Million-ten!" egging me on to raise the bid. I glanced back up at the stage in fear.
"Do I have a million-ten?" the auctioneer repeated.
"Wait-" I yelled, standing to my feet. I had to raise the bid somehow.
"Going once..." he said, either ignoring or not hearing my outburst.
"Wait! I'm out of funds!" I pleaded.
"Going twice," the auctioneer continued.
"Hold-up!! How do I add more funds?!!" I screamed.
"Aaaand SOLD!!!" the auctioneer yelled, landing his gavel on the podium in front of him. "Sold to Tom Murphy for the low price of one Million dollars!! Congratulations, Tom!"
Katie's expression, as she glided across the stage, was one of horror. She glanced frantically between the mega-screen and the auctioneer, pleading desperately into her ball-gag. But nobody seemed to notice or care.
"I'd like to thank everyone for joining us tonight," the auctioneer said. "Congratulations to all item winners! Once again, purchased slaves will be delivered between the hours of 11pm and midnight tonight. So please be present at your residence during that time."
The auctioneer continued talking, but I'd tuned him out. Unable to divert my attention elsewhere, I watched a smiling Murphy stand to his feet. Several men around him shook his hand in congratulations.
Without thinking, I suddenly found myself storming down the staircase and onto the field level. I couldn't let Murphy get away with this. I ran toward the front section where Murphy was, fists clenched.
"Hey!" I screamed from about 50 yards away. Several people, including Murphy turned to look at me. "What the hell is wrong with you?!!" I shouted at him. Despite the fact that my attitude and temper had landed me in all sorts of trouble up to this point, I wasn't able to contain myself this time. I also felt that he needed to know just how livid I was.
"Miss O'Connell!" Murphy said to me, as I stormed over to him. A wide grin had spread across his face. "How unexpected of you to come over here." This was met with chuckles from those around him.
It wasn't until that moment that I noticed Tasha kneeling on the ground next to him. She was leashed and wore a skin-tight outfit that resembled the red female body armor from the movie, Black Panther. Murphy was still clearly pushing the race card and using it against her. Tasha was ring-gagged and her arms were secured over her head with her tied wrists attached to the back of her collar. As her eyes met mine, I saw a flash of resentment streak across her face. Yep, she definitely recognized me from the hunt...
"I said-" I repeated, directing my focus back to Murphy, "-What the hell is wrong-"
"With me," Murphy finished. "Yeah, I heard the question. Well, you're gonna have to be more specific," he continued. "I'm afraid my answer would take all night to explain to you. That's actually an invitation, by the way," he added. "Come spend the night and I'll tell you everything." Some of the men remaining in the area laughed supportively at his crass attempt at humor.
"You're really willing to blow a million bucks on a girl just to piss me off?!" I challenged.
"To piss you off?" he asked pretentiously. "What do you mean piss you- oh wait... Were you the one who I was bidding against just now?"
"Cut the shit," I spat at him, inching closer. "You bid on Katie to spite me. I screwed up your little demonstration the other day and now you're getting payback. Leave Katie out of it. She's done nothing to you."
"Katie, huh?" Murphy deflected. "So you two are on a first name basis? What's so special about this Katie, might I ask? You sweet on her or something?"
"Give her to me," I said, ignoring his provocations. "I'll give you your million dollars. Don't punish her just because you have a grudge with me."
"That's an interesting proposition," Murphy said, rubbing his chin. "But I'm afraid I just can't spare her. Sanura here has been flagged a bit too many times on account of her vitals. I can't rely on her as my sole assistant anymore." He turned to leave, pulling Tasha up to her feet by her leash. "Your friend Katie will be sharing her work-load from now on. I'll let her know that you said hi-"
"No," I countered, stepping in front of him. He looked surprised by my persistence. "I won't let you take her. I owe her," I added. He stared at me silently, appearing to weigh his options. I could tell that he was studying me. "So, what's it gonna take?" I pressed. "What do you want for her?"
Murphy crossed his arms and paused for a few seconds. He, Tasha, and I were now the only people left on the field level of the arena. I silently hoped that the lack of an audience would make him more reasonable. With nobody to impress, Murphy had less pressure to look like the alpha. "Alright," he said after a long pause. "I want the castle suite." I stared at him without saying anything. "Sign over the suite and I'll let you have the girl."
I paused for several seconds, attempting to play my cards close to my chest. As willing as I may have been to make that trade, I couldn't allow myself to seem too eager. This was most-likely his strategy all along. To extort me for the castle suite... I had to appear as if I was prepared to walk away from the deal.
"The suite went for 2 point something million last year," I challenged. "I'm gonna need more. What else are you gonna throw in?"
"Nothing," Murphy said, matter-of-factly. "Since I'm in a forgiving mood tonight, I'm willing to wipe our slate clean and keep things simple. The suite for the girl. No negotiating, no haggling. One for the other." Murphy's smug expression made my skin crawl. Murphy was clearly relishing his position in the driver's seat. A few seconds passed where neither of us said anything. "And I'm gonna need a yes or no right now." he added. "So, what's it gonna be?" He had me by the short hairs and he fucking knew it...
"Fine," I conceded, trying to keep my face stoic.
"Great," Murphy said, clapping his hands together. "Then it's a deal." He began to walk passed me, Tasha in tow. "Since the trading post is closed until morning, I'll be taking the girl home with me tonight."
"Bullshit you are," I replied, stopping him with my hand. "Katie's coming with me."
"The girl legally belongs to me," Murphy explained coldly. "And there's no way to transfer her into your custody until the trading post reopens in the morning."
"I don't think you understand me," I said, leaning in closer to him. "I'm not letting her go home with you so you can rape her and do whatever other shit you people do. She either comes with me or the deal's off."
"You're naive," Murphy replied, chuckling. "I've already told you- I need another assistant. Not a companion." I remained glaring at him with my hand still pressed against his chest. "So, as long as you're cleared out of the suite and ready to sign it over tomorrow at 8 o'clock sharp when the Trading Post opens, your Katie friend won't be touched."
My eyes narrowed to slits. "Not a finger gets laid on her," I said in a low voice. "Understand?"
Murphy pushed past me, ignoring my question. "Enjoy your last night in the castle," he said arrogantly. "8 o'clock tomorrow. Don't be late." And with that, he walked away, pulling Tasha by the leash behind him.
I stared after him, processing the deal that I'd just agreed to. I hated the thought of Katie staying at Murphy's tonight. The image of her terrified face was still etched in my memory. I wanted so badly to speak with her and assure her that everything was going to be alright. That I hadn't abandoned her to this monster. But explanations would regrettably have to wait until morning. That decision had regrettably been made for me.
And while it was certainly a relief to know that Katie would be safe, it was thoroughly heartbreaking to be forfeiting the castle suite to an asshole like Tom Murphy. The thought of downgrading from the suite to a motel room for the next three months was devastating to say the least.
Bending over to remove my heels, I began making my way slowly back to my suite for the last time. Once again, I was finishing the day both physically and mentally exhausted. A lot had transpired over the last 24 hours. From waking up in a probation collar, to ridding myself of Brandy, to being manipulated into to speaking at the annual slave auction, and finally- trading away my living accommodations, it had certainly been one of the shittier days in recent memory.
I shivered as I stepped outside into the cool night air. Spotting a half-empty bottle of Champagne on a nearby table, I picked it up and began to chug it. If there was ever a night to get wasted, it might as well have been tonight. Unfortunately, I feared that no amount of alcohol would change one simple fact. My future was about to be become much more uncertain. And that, more than just about anything else I'd faced so far, scared the holy hell out me...
Chapter 10 - Forbidden Fruit
It was a foggy morning and the air felt cooler than it had the night before. Shivering outside of the building I previously knew to be the call center, I rubbed my arms in an attempt to stay warm. The sign hanging above the glass doors to the building now read "TRADING POST". I recognized it as the same sign that used to hang over the ATM kiosks at the front of the park. It was surreal to consider how a simple Renaissance-themed sign intended to help guests find a place to withdraw cash could now imply something as perverse as slave trading.
I glanced down at my phone to check the time. 7:57am. A sign taped to the inside of the glass door in front of me read "Business hours: 8am-6pm". Inside, several women in burgundy uniforms could be seen working in their cubicles but nobody made eye contact with me or seemed to notice that I was there.
While it wasn't cold enough outside for me to see my breath, it certainly felt freezing. I'd regretfully neglected to buy a heavier jacket when I was clothing shopping earlier in the week. Tapping my foot impatiently, I sat atop the hard black suitcase that I'd discovered on my doorstep the day earlier. I still had no idea what was inside, given the fact that it was combination-locked. But at least it was something dry to me sit on. Next to me was a trash bag with all of my other belongings. As per Murphy's request, I had packed everything from the suite in preparation to check out for the trade.
I hadn't slept much. I hated not having been able to speak with Katie the night prior before leaving the stadium. It made me sick not knowing if Murphy had explained things adequately to her. The thought of her wondering whether I'd abandoned her was upsetting, to say the least. I nervously glanced up and down the cobblestone street, eager to catch a glimpse of Murphy and Katie walking toward me. But the street was empty. At 8:00 on the money, a woman unlocked the glass doors and held one open for me. I could see that her wrists were handcuffed in front of her.
"Welcome," she said pleasantly. "Thank you for waiting so patiently," I walked in, dragging my suitcase and trash bag behind me. I instantly relaxed as a gust of warm air met me. "Do you have an appointment with anyone in particular?" She asked.
"No," I said. "Wait- was I supposed to?"
"Oh no," she replied reassuringly. "We can see you right away. I just didn't know if anyone had been helping you already."
"No... I just made a deal with someone last night and he told me to meet him here," I explained.
"Okay, great," the woman replied. "Well, if you wouldn't mind following me over to one of our notaries, she'll get you taken care of."
I followed the woman past cubicles occupied with handcuffed women tapping away at their keyboards. Everything in the building looked pretty much the same as I'd left it when I closed the Ren Faire for the season. Everything except for the BDSM-themed artwork that now hung on throughout the office. Each cubicle sported at least one of these.
To my left, hung a painting of clenched fists tied together in rope. The next cubicle showcased a photograph of an aproned 40's style women kneeling in front of a modern-day skyscraper.
The woman leading me suddenly stopped at the entrance of a cubical with a brunette woman sitting behind a desk. Over her shoulder on the wall hung a red "Keep Calm" poster. But instead of reading "KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON" like the famous British WWII poster, this one read, "KEEP CALMphh Mmm Mmrmph Mmph" with a line drawing of a ball-gag taking the place of the crown at the top.
"Laura here will take care of you," the woman leading me said, snapping me back to reality.
"Thanks," I replied, dragging my stuff into the cubical.
"Hi there, I'm Laura," the woman said reaching across the desk to shake my hand. Since her wrists were cuffed, she had to outstretch both arms. I shook her hand and gave a polite smile. "How can I help you today?" she asked.
"Um, I'm supposed to meet someone here about trading my suite for his slave," I replied. I cringed inside. Somehow, saying it out loud made it sound even worse.
"Okay," Laura said, unfazed. "May I ask what your name is?"
"Jodie O'Connell," I replied. Laura began typing my name into her computer. I was pleasantly surprised that she didn't seem to recognize me or know who I was. After appearing onstage last night, I was genuinely fearful that I'd become a celebrity or something.
"Okay, Jodie," Laura said with her eyes still on her screen. "I see that you reside in the castle suite?"
"Yes," I answered. "Well, for now... That's what I'm trading away."
"Ah, I see," she replied, typing away at her keyboard. "And will this be for monetary compensation?"
"No," I answered. "I'll be trading it for custody of... a friend."
"Okay..." Laura replied, suddenly looking at me with a curious look on her face. "Where will you be staying, might I ask?"
I hesitated. "Um, I haven't figured that out yet. I guess I'll have to get a room at the Inn," I replied.
Laura lifted her hands from the keyboard and folded them desk in front of her. "Unfortunately, those arrangements will need to be sorted out prior to a making a trade of this kind."
"What? Why?" I asked.
"I'm afraid the rules dictate that custody may only be granted to a guest who has authorized living accommodations," Laura explained.
I stared at her blankly for several seconds. "What?"
"Basically," Laura continued, "-if your trade is contingent upon the forfeit of your suite, you will no longer have housing... which would make you ineligible to retain custody of a slave."
"You have got to be shitting me," I said, more forcefully than I'd intended.
Laura paused awkwardly. "I'm sorry," she replied sheepishly.
"So... what do I have to do?" I asked. "How do I get housing?"
"At this point, I don't know that you'll have luck finding any vacancy," Laura replied. "But let me check." She suddenly began typing away at her keyboard again. "I know that this year marked the first year that The Kingdom reached capacity, so the inns may be completely full."
I ran my fingers through my hair, looking up at the ceiling in frustration. After a few seconds, Laura broke the silence. "Yeah. Unfortunately, I'm seeing that all rooms and cabins are currently being occupied.
"Unreal," I whispered in frustration. I just could not catch a break!
After another awkward pause, Laura interjected, "I can add you to the standby list, but there's no guarantee of when a vacancy would become available."
Still staring up at the ceiling, I merely replied, "Sure." At this point I really was out of options... Unless I was able to renegotiate the terms of my deal with Murphy, I was SOL.
"If you were really interested in moving forward with this trade today," Laura interjected, "-you could always enlist in our residency program."
"Residency program?" I asked, dropping my head to face her again. I suddenly recalled hearing Annabelle reassign her receptionist to "permanent resident at the laughing place".
"Yes," Laura explained. "It's pretty much an internship program that provides room and board at the residency center. This would essentially allow you to retain custody of a slave until a room at one of our inns or cabins became available."
A pit suddenly formed in my stomach. An internship program? I was scared to even contemplate what that entailed... Sensing that I was clueless about what she was talking about, Laura continued into further detail.
"Basically, it offers people, both men and women, opportunities to experiment and gain experience in the BDSM lifestyle," She explained. "Some businesses offer pay and perks, others simply offer housing credits." Laura leaned over and grabbed a flyer off the corner of her desk. "Here's a list of businesses that are registered participants in the residency program."
I took the piece of paper from her and scrolled down the list. There looked to be about two dozen businesses named.
"If you have a smartphone, you can enroll via our app. From there, you can also see which businesses are currently hiring," Laura added. "Most use a bi-weekly employment model. So, if you're offered a position, you'll be required to work for the entirety of those two weeks. In exchange, you'll receive housing credits and whatever else your contract stipulates."
I shook my head from side to side. I couldn't believe that I was actually considering this. It was unbelievable that there was not a single room available for me to rent! It was unbelievable that I was even in this situation at all... I just wanted to do pay my debt to Katie! That was it! Return the favor for her saving my hide. It should have been a simple trade! Brandy for Katie. Done! FINISHED! But no, nothing here was simple! Even the smallest of hiccups seemed to trigger an unfathomably complex chain reaction.
"If you would like, I can set up an appointment to resume this trade for a bit later today so you can have time to think all of this over?" Laura offered politely.
The trade. I suddenly realized that I was still waiting on Murphy to show up. I glanced down at my phone to see that it now read 8:12am. Fucker!
"Is it possible to call the guy who was supposed to meet me here?" I asked.
"Certainly," Laura replied. "What's his name?"
"Tom Murphy," I answered, feeling my blood pressure rise at the mere mention of his stupid name.
Laura began typing on her keyboard. "Hmm, I don't see a room phone number listed," she said quietly. After a brief cause, she continued, "Oh, I see. He's staying in the apartment connected to his business. I'll give his shop a try." Laura picked up her desk phone and dialed the number listed on her computer screen.
I tapped my fingernails impatiently on the desk. After several seconds, Laura looked up at me and shook her head. "It's going to voicemail. You can also send him a message from the app if you'd like."
Silently, I motioned for Laura to hand me the phone. She placed the phone in my outstretched hand and pushed the receiver closer to me. As I pressed the phone against my ear, I could hear Murphy's voice recording wrapping up. "-otherwise, please leave a brief message after the tone. Thank you."
After the beep, I unleashed. "Murphy, where the hell are you? It's 8:15 and I'm at the Trading Post. As of this morning, you are now one of three people who've expressed interest in the suite," I lied. "So, if you want it, there's now an expiration date." And with that, I hung up.
"Would you like for me to schedule you an appointment for later today?" Laura asked.
"Um... I don't know" I replied, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. After a few seconds, I stood to my feet. "I'm just gonna go to his shop now. I'll come back after I find him."
"Of course," Laura replied.
"Um, do you know if there's someplace I can leave my bags for a bit?" I asked. "I'd rather not lug everything around if I can help it."
"Oh, sure," Laura said helpfully. "You know what- I can keep your things right here behind my desk until you return."
"That would be great," I replied. "Thanks." Laura stood to her feet and helped drag the suitcase and trash bag across the carpeted floor. It was a relief to be reminded every once in a while that not everyone here was a fucking asshole. "Hopefully, I'll be back soon," I added, turning to leave.
"Okay. Good luck," Laura called after me.
I was pissed. Pissed and scared... What if Murphy was having second thoughts about trading Katie? What if he'd changed his mind? Despite my strategy to play hardball with him in my voicemail, Murphy really did hold all the cards. I couldn't allow him to keep Katie. Abandoning her to a monster like him just wasn't an option. After what she'd done for me- saving me from nearly a month-long stay in the kennel, I really was indebted to her. I needed to make this trade happen...
Leaving the Trading post, I speed-walked toward Murphy's Hall. As I walked, I rehearsed what I was going to say to Murphy. I couldn't be too bitchy. My attitude had landed me in all sorts of trouble thus far. But I definitely needed to be forceful.
Moments later, I turned into Cedar Square. The square was completely empty with exception a street cleaner who was spraying down one of the sidewalks with a hose. My heart began to race as I approached the building now known as Murphy's Hall. I rapped loudly on the door. I waited about a second and a half before trying again. This time louder.
The lights were off inside the shop and the sign on the inside of the glass door read "CLOSED". I tried knocking one more time before finally giving up and making my way toward the rear-side of the building where the apartment was. I hopped through what looked to be budding vegetable garden and jogged up the concrete stairs to the back door. I wasted no time to start pounding on the brown wooden door.
"Murphy! It's Jodie, open up!" I yelled. I stood as still as I could, hoping to hear the slightest sign of movement. After a few seconds, I tried turning the handle only to find that the door had been locked and deadbolted. If only I still had my master keys, I thought. After several failed attempts to force my way inside, I resumed to my strategy of pounding on the door. This continued for another minute until I remembered what Laura had said about messaging him through the app.
I pulled out my phone and opened up the Kingdom app. My hands were shaking as I typed his name into the search bar. Tom's profile was the only result listed under the name Murphy. I tapped it and opened up a message window.
where the hell are you?! I typed.
After pressing send, I promptly returned my efforts to pounding on the door. But just as I opened my mouth to start shouting again, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. The breeze window about 7 feet off the porch was propped open...
The rectangular window was only about 24 inches high, but definitely wide enough for me to climb through. Scanning the area around me, I spotted a wooden barrel at the bottom of the steps next to the garden. Perfect. I jumped down and began dragging the rotting barrel up the stairs and beneath the window.
Moments later, I stepped on top of it and balanced myself by leaning against the wooden siding of the building. The window was still several feet higher than I'd have liked for it to be, but I wasn't seeing any taller props to stand on. After a few deep breaths, I gripped the sill and jumped, hoisting myself through the small opening. It took a few seconds for me to lift my leg inside, but once I was straddling the windowsill, it was easy for me to pull the rest of my body through. I delicately lowered myself into the apartment, pointing my feet downward to make contact with the kitchen counter below. The rapid fatigue in my arm muscles served as a painful reminder of just how out of shape. Once my feet were on solid ground, I let go of the windowsill and hopped down onto the linoleum floor. And just like that, I was inside. I brushed myself off and straightened my shirt, suddenly feeling much more athletic than I actually was.
"Murphy?" I called out, scanning the room. "Hello?" On the counter next to the locked door, I spotted what looked like a small black stun gun. I stepped over to it and picked it up. It was a lot heavier than I imagined it would be. Thinking back to the handbook that I'd studied a few days prior, I thought I remembered reading that weapons of any kind were prohibited on Kingdom grounds. Murphy could get in a lot of trouble if he were caught with this... As a precautionary measure, I stowed it in my jacket pocket. The last thing I wanted was for Murphy to jump out and use it on me.
"Hello?!" I repeated. Still not hearing anything that resembled life, I began walking gingerly toward the bedroom. I'd been in this apartment many times before, but never in a situation that made my heart race. I suppose that breaking and entering tended to raise the stakes in any setting whether it was familiar or not.
I pushed open the bedroom door and what I saw next nearly made me leap out of my skin. On the floor, at the foot of the bed were two large cages side by side. One of them was empty and the other held none other than Tasha!
"Holy shit," I breathed, as I stepped backwards in surprise at the sight of the naked and bound woman. The situation was made even more chilling due to the fact that Tasha merely stared up at me from the cage, not moving a muscle. She wore a harness-style bit-gag that resembled a peace-sign covering her face. A strap extended up over her shaved head and was connected by a rope to the top of the cage. I noticed that she was restrained similarly to how contestants were on the subway train leaving the hunt. She wore a black latex thong and was bent over in a doggy style position with her legs spread to either side. Her ankles and upper calves were belted to the base of the cage. Her arms were restrained behind her back in an armbinder. But instead of pinning her elbows together, this armbinder looked more relaxed and appeared to keep her arms in a in a box-tie position.
With the rope that was attached to the top of her harness-gag, her upper body was suspended horizontally with her breasts hanging roughly about a foot off the ground. Covering each nipple was what looked to be a circular black patch that was connected to her collar by thin cords. Another cord appeared to extend down her spine and disappeared beneath her leather thong.
Unlike the predicaments of the subway crate occupants, however, there appeared to be no dildos in sight. Lucky her, I guess.
"Um... I'm looking for Murphy," I said awkwardly as I stepped into the room. "Any idea where he is?"
Tasha shook her head as much as the restraints would allow.
"What about Katie?" I asked.
Tasha nodded toward the front of her cage, looking directly up at the latch inches from her face.
"Right," I answered, picking up on her subtle request to release her from her prison. I knelt down to the ground and reached through the cage bars to remove the bit-gag from her mouth. Not wanting to leave too much evidence of my unlawful entry, I decided to limit my involvement to merely removing Tasha's gag. Still leaving the harness attached to her head, I was able to bend the rubber bit-gag enough to pry it from between Tasha's teeth and pull it beneath her chin.
Tasha sighed and worked her jaw open and closed as much as the harness would allow.
"Get me out," Tasha whispered, almost inaudibly.
"Sorry, I can't," I replied. "I'm not exactly supposed to be in here."
As I spoke, I could see Tasha's face contorting in pain. I stared back at her confused.
"Unplug the cords from my collar," she whispered.
I stared at her skeptically. "Why?" I asked.
"Please," she whispered with her eyes closed. To be honest, as awful as Tasha's plight undoubtedly was, her breathy whispers and winces seemed a bit over-the-top to me.
Nonetheless, I decided to humor her and grant the request. I reached back into the cage and disconnected the two cords from her collar. They looked identical to 3.5mm headphone connectors. Once disconnected from jacks in her collar, Tasha suddenly exhaled a long groan.
"Ugggggh!," she groaned loudly. I cocked my head in confusion. "The collar detects sound," she explained. "When the cords are plugged in, anything louder than a few decibels triggers electronic charges to my nipples and ass."
"Yikes," I replied, wincing in empathy.
"Help me out of this, will ya?" Tasha asked. "My back is killin' me."
"Um... I wish I could, but I'm just here to find Murphy and Katie," I explained. "I can't leave any evidence I was here."
"C'mon," Tasha pleaded. "I know we've got bad blood, but I could really use your help right now. I've been bound, gagged, and fucked more in the past four days than even the kinkiest women are in four years. I need a break. Help a sista out."
"I need to know where Murphy and Katie are," I pressed, ignoring her pleas. I felt guilty as hell refusing her requests for help. But intervening on her behalf during Murphy's black widow demonstration was literally what put me in his crosshairs in the first place. I needed to prioritize. Right now, my main objective needed to be getting Katie back. Once I'd accomplished that, I could return to fighting for the wellbeing of womankind. But at the present, I needed to stay focused.
"If I tell you what you wanna know, will ya let me out?" Tasha countered.
I sighed. "If you don't tell me, I'll plug the cords back in and start clapping."
"Bitch," Tasha replied with a glare. "You realize, if it hadn't been for me, you'd have reached Murphy's booby-trapped dildo first and-" I reached back in and grabbed hold of the cord that was dangling from the patches on her nipples. "Alright, alright. FINE!," Tasha said loudly as she tried to squirm away from my outstretched hand. I pulled my hand back out of the cage, allowing Tasha to relax.
"He said something to the girl about having breakfast before going to the trading post," Tasha explained.
"Where does he usually go for breakfast?" I asked.
"Nowhere," replied Tasha. "He's cheap as fuck. He cooks all his meals here. Grows vegetables and shit in his garden out back."
"So, they ate breakfast here and then left?" I asked.
"Probly," Tasha answered.
"And how long ago was that?" I asked.
Tasha shook her head as if to imply that she wasn't sure, "I don't know. Like, an hour and a half ago?"
I looked down at my phone. It was now 8:32am. "So... around 7:00?" I asked.
"Bitch, do you see a clock anywhere? I have no clue what time it is, let alone what time it was when they left," Tasha replied with attitude, clearly becoming tired of my Q and A. "Look, he took a shower, got dressed, let the girl out of her out of her cage, had her go to the bathroom, took her into the kitchen, and then a few minutes later I heard the door shut."
I stared over Tasha's shoulder, deep in contemplation. That didn't make sense... He left the apartment with Katie at 7am for an 8am meeting at the Trading Post? Something wasn't adding up.
"Are you sure he didn't say anything else?" I asked.
Tasha sighed. "No. The bastard hardly says shit," Tasha replied. "That's probly the only good thing about being here. He's a smartass in front of his customers, but when we're alone, he doesn't talk. He's basically the same as one of those damn machines he builds."
I hesitated before asking my next question, scared of what the answer might be. "Did he... do anything to Katie?"
Tasha blinked, studying me closely. "You mean anything sexual?" she asked. I nodded. "What? You sweet on her or somethin'?"
I ignored her last question. After a few seconds, she answered, "Nah, he didn't touch her. After we got in last night, we both used the bathroom and were put straight to bed. If you can call this thing a bed."
Tasha suddenly started twisting and squirming, seemingly in a futile attempt to find a more comfortable position. After a few seconds, she sighed and relaxed again. "This must feel pretty satisfying for you, huh?" she asked. "Seeing me like this after I drug your ass all over the woods?"
"No," I said, somewhat offended by her mischaracterization of me. "Tasha, if I could help you without getting myself into more trouble, I swear I would."
"Mm-hmm," she replied in disbelief. "Well if you're too much of a pussy to take the risk, you might as well just leave-"
Just then, Tasha's eyes flicked over my shoulder toward the door. My heart dropped as I heard the same thing she did. Footsteps at the back door, followed by the jingling of keys. Frantically, I reached back in the cage and grabbed ahold of the bit gag beneath her chin.
"No-no-no! You don't need toomph, nmm-nmmmph!!" Tasha objected as I forced the gag back between her teeth. But even with the gag, she still being too loud! I grabbed the cord dangling from her nipples. If I could get one of the cords plugged back into her collar, she'd stop making so much noise. But as I fumbled with the cord, I could hear the deadbolt being unlocked. There was no time! I dropped the cord and scrambled on my hands and knees beside the bed. Just as the door swung open, I dove underneath the mattress and held my breath. My heart raced as I silently prayed that I hadn't been seen.
From beneath the bed, I could make out two sets of booted feet entering the kitchen.
"That's her," said a deep voice. The two sets of boots walked toward us into the bedroom. Tasha began screaming and hollering into her gag, almost as if she was trying to inform them of my presence. Damn, she really was a bitch!
After the men reached Tasha's cage, I heard an electronic chime sound, seemingly from one of their smart-phones tapping against her collar. "Yep," said another voice. "Tasha Porter."
"Alright," the other voice replied. "Let's get her out."
One of the men dropped to his knees and began unbuckling Tasha's ankles and calves from the base of the cage. I could see that he was dressed in a security uniform. Tasha continued to yell into her gag, squirming wildly in her restraints.
"Let me activate the mute button here," the other the voice muttered. I saw a hand reach down and grab the cord that dangled from her nipples. A moment later, Tasha fell silent, indicating that the cord had once again been reconnected to her collar. The sound-activated shock devices had been reactivated. I saw Tasha's toes clench in silent frustration.
Moments later, Tasha's leg restraints had been completely removed and was she being pulled to her feet.
"Alright," one of the guards said. "Off to the kennel."
I watched in silence as the two men walked Tasha out the same way they came in, shutting the door loudly behind them. I exhaled and remained still for several seconds. What had just happened?
I strained my ears, making sure that they had really gone before I pulled myself out from under the bed. My heart was still pounding. Why had security guards come for Tasha? And why were they taking her to the kennel?
I stood to my feet and walked back into the kitchen. Somehow, I was even more confused than I'd been before I came here! I pulled out my phone to see if Murphy had written me back. Nothing. Pacing back and forth, I suddenly had the sick feeling that something was terribly wrong. I couldn't shake the feeling that Katie was in trouble. That she needed me...
I forced myself to stop pacing and take a deep breath. Think Ally. What was my next step? What did I need? After a few moments, I decided that my best course of action was to look around the apartment for any clues about where Murphy might have taken Katie.
I began to scan the room. On the kitchen table was a glass of water and a plate with a piece of toast on it. A single bite had been taken from the toast.
I walked around the room looking for anything out of place but came up empty. I walked back into the bedroom and repeated the process. Murphy looked almost ex-military in his cleanliness. His bed was made tightly and his outfits were hung neatly in his closet. The bathroom looked and smelled pristine.
Walking back into the kitchen, I sat down in the chair across from the half-eaten piece of toast. As much as I wanted to go exploring his shop next, I knew that this was unwise. Large windows lined the front of his shop and I couldn't risk being seen from the square. I'd be no use to Katie if I got carted off by security too. My detective routine would have to be limited to Murphy's living quarters.
I stared blankly at the piece toast in front of me. The longer I stared at it, the more odd and out of place it seemed. Everything in the entire apartment was perfect. Everything was organized and stowed away. Everything except for a glass of water and a half-eaten piece of toast...
I picked up the toast and smelled it, like an idiot pretending to be a world-class detective. The jam spread smelt of peaches. After a few seconds, I sat upright in my seat. As ridiculous as it felt to be playing Sherlock Holmes with a piece of toast, I had what earnestly felt to be a brief moment of revelation.
I dropped the toast back onto the plate and pulled out my phone. The Kingdom app was still running and I typed in the name Katie Huff into the search bar. I tapped on her profile as soon as it appeared. Scrolling frantically down her stats, I stopped when I reached Allergies. Next to it read the word Peaches.
I stood to my feet, nearly knocking the chair over. Peaches! Murphy had fed Katie toast with peach jam! She was allergic to peaches! Before I knew it, I was out the door and running down the sidewalk. My gut instinct had been correct. Katie was in trouble and was most-likely at the health clinic being treated for an allergic reaction! This would explain why Murphy was a no-show at the Trading Post. He was likely facing disciplinary action for having poisoned her! And that would explain why Tasha had been moved to the kennel! If an owner is sentenced to time in the kennel, so is their slave!
Moments later, I burst through the doors of the health clinic, making the two women behind the counter jump in surprise.
"Is Katie Huff here?!" I asked, out of breath as I stormed up to the front desk. "Was a woman named Katie Huff brought in for an allergic reaction?!"
"Um, yes. She's resting right now," one of the women answered.
"I need to see her," I said, walking quickly toward the hallway to their left.
The older heavier-set of the two women jumped up and stepped in front of me. "I'm afraid that's not possible," she said.
"Horshshit it's not possible!" I yelled. "My friend is having an allergic reaction because some asshole didn't read her chart. I need to make sure she's alright."
"I understand," the woman said in a patronizing tone. "But as I said, Miss Huff is resting right now. I'm sure she'll be glad to see you once she-"
I didn't wait for her to finish. I pushed the woman aside and speed-walked past her down the hallway. I could hear the woman calling after me, but I couldn't care less. I needed to know that Katie was okay. I needed to speak with her. Tell her that she'd be okay.
The first room I passed was empty. In the second room was a man in his boxers and a wife-beater sitting on a stretcher bed with an icepack pressed against his temple. Hearing the receptionist lady gaining on me from behind, I jogged to the next room down the hall and pulled the door open. My breath was suddenly ripped from my chest as my eyes rested on Katie lying on a stretcher bed.
She was wearing a hospital gown and was connected to an IV drip. Even though I was a good fifteen feet away from her, I could see that her face looked red and puffy. Her mouth was half-open and she looked to be sound asleep. Seeing her in such a state awoke something deep inside of me. I was worried. I was angry. Of all the breakfast foods Murphy could have given her, the dipshit chose the one thing that she was allergic to!!
I fought back tears as I stared at her. I had no idea why I was so emotional. I hardly knew this girl. We'd spoken for less than a total of five minutes. But deep down, I felt responsible for her. Like somehow, she was mine to protect...
The woman chasing me down the hallway finally caught up. She pulled the doorknob from my hand and closed the door softly.
"As you can see," she said in a low voice, breathing heavily, "she's resting."
The woman grabbed me by the arm and began walked me back toward the waiting room. I followed her without a struggle. Having seen Katie sleeping in the hospital bed, the last thing I wanted to do was wake her.
"She's been sedated, she's stable, and she's expected to make a full recovery in a few hours," the woman continued. "If you'll leave me your name, we can reach out to you once she wakes."
Once we got back to the lobby, I saw two security guards standing at the front desk talking to the other receptionist. As we approached, they turned and stepped toward us.
"We're fine here," said the woman as she released my arm. "Just a misunderstanding."
The guards stopped in their tracks looking unsure.
"She was concerned for her friend. Everything's under control, officers," she added.
Looking almost disappointed by the loss of an excuse to apprehend me, they merely turned and walked away.
"Thank you," I said softly to the woman as the guards exited.
"You're welcome," the woman replied as she walked back to her desk and sat down. "Ever try that again and I'll march you to the kennel myself. Understood?"
I nodded. "Sorry," I muttered.
"Your name?" the woman asked, lifting up her glasses that hung by a chain around her neck.
"Um... Jodie McConnell," I replied. "I mean O'Connell. Jodie O'Connell." The woman cocked an eyebrow from behind her glasses. "It's been a long day," I explained, feeling my face flush.
"It's not even 9 o'clock, sweetie," the woman replied dryly as she turned her attention back to her computer screen. "But I'll concede that a few hours in a place like this can certainly feel like a day. Room number?"
"Um... Right now, I'm in the castle suite," I answered. "But is it possible to send me a message through the app? I may not be there to receive a call."
"I'll be off my shift in a few minutes," she said as she typed. "But I'll make a note here for whoever's working to send you a message once Miss Huff wakes up. Deal?"
"Deal," I replied. "And what about Tom Murphy? Katie's owner?"
"Security escorted Mr. Murphy to the kennel shortly after Miss Huff was admitted," the woman replied. "My guess is that he'll be staying there for a few days."
"Okay, thanks," I answered, suddenly feeling more calm and relaxed.
"Word of advice," the woman continued, removing her glasses from her face, "-You're the champion of the hunt. The first one in Kingdom history." Based on her stoic expression and unimpressed tone, her words sounded less complementary and more like a lecture. "The hunt wasn't made to be won. The powers at be would love nothing more than to find an excuse to throw you to the wolves." Leaning forward and lowering her voice, the woman concluded, "Don't give them one."
I nodded and gave a small smile. Whoever this woman was, I instinctually trusted her. In my experience, people who were blunt enough to say something straight were typically the most genuine. And deep down, I knew that she was right. It wasn't hard to imagine the large target that I'd placed on my back. Especially after some of the unnecessary waves I'd created since the hunt had ended.
"Thank you," I said again as I turned to leave. "Sorry again."
The woman nodded, turning back once more to her computer screen. "Take care of yourself, Miss O'Connell."
I exited the health clinic. The air was still cool, but the fog had begun to lift. Eventually, I needed a heavier jacket, but for the time being, I wanted nothing more than to return to my suite. I didn't know how much longer I'd be able to call it mine, so I figured I should enjoy it while I still could.
Placing my hands in my jacket pockets to keep warm, I felt my left hand touch something large and rectangular. I pulled the object out, suddenly realizing that it was the stun gun I'd grabbed from Murphy's. I'd forgotten to put it back before I left!
I quickly shoved it back in my pocket, looking around suspiciously to see if anyone happened to see me holding it. Fortunately, it was still early and only a few people were out and about. A pair of joggers were running on the other side the street, and a couple street vendors could be seen setting up for their 9 o'clock shifts. Fortunately, nobody seemed to notice my presence, let alone the stun gun that I'd pulled out of my pocket.
I decided to take the shortcut behind the Log Tavern Pub and Grill which placed me toward the front of the castle. As I approached the moat, I could see that a large group of security guards had congregated at the far end of the cross-bridge. There appeared to be a sense of urgency about them as a taller guy wearing a beanie hat barked out marching orders to the others. Two by two, the guards split off from the group, heading in the direction that the beanie hat guy had pointed. Whatever was going on seemed to have them in quite a hurry.
I decided to jog the rest of the way back to my suite, hoping to avoid any interaction with them. The last thing I needed was a security guard to randomly stop and frisk me and find Murphy's stun gun. I breathed heavily as I made my way up the staircase to my suite. I really did need to find more time to go to the gym. There was simply no excuse for being this out of breath after a mere 45 seconds jog.
I swiped my keycard through the door sensor and waited. Typically, a green LED bulb blinked followed by the clicking sound of the door unlocking. This time, however, nothing happened. I swiped my card again. Nothing. Gripping the handle, I pulled the door open. Weird, but I didn't think anything of it.
Stepping inside, I took a deep breath of the warmer, chlorine-scented air. I honestly hadn't anticipated returning to the suite. Had the trade gone through with Murphy, this would have officially been his at this point.
Once the door clicked shut behind me, it took me approximately one second to realize that something wasn't right. Staring ahead, I could see that all of the kitchen cabinet doors were open and the furniture had been uprooted and tossed everywhere. The place had been completely destroyed.
The next events unfolded too quickly to even comprehend. I suddenly felt someone shove me from behind and slam me against the tiled wall. I let out a scream as I felt my wrist grabbed and twisted behind my back. I struggled, but to no avail. Whoever was holding me was strong.
"Where is the suitcase," I heard a raspy voice say into my ear. I continued struggling against the person's grip, and attempted to cry out for help. After a few seconds, the arms pinning me against the wall spun me around. "Where is the suitcase?!" my attacker repeated in a louder voice. It was none other than Brandy Michaels.
"Brandy?!" I shouted. She lifted her forearm and pressed it against my throat, swatting away my flailing limbs with her other hand.
"I don't want to hurt you," she said in a lower voice. "Tell me where it is, and I'll be on my way." Her voice sounded hoarse and scratchy. She looked terrible. She had dark rings underneath her eyes and her neck looked red and irritated where her collar had been. As I struggled to inhale, I noticed that she was wearing a security guard uniform. But seeing as how large it was on her, I surmised that it didn't actually belong to her..
"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied dumbly, suddenly sounding as if I had a frog in my throat. The suitcase, I realized, was still at the Trading Post in Laura's cubical. Fortunately, I'd forgotten to pick it up on the way back to the suite!
"Don't fuck with me. I know it's here!" Brandy replied, pressing harder on my neck with her forearm. "You have no idea how dangerous its contents are. Just tell me where it is."
I struggled to inhale again, trying my hardest to fight the stronghold she had on me.
"I don't..." I tried to answer between gasps for air. This bitch was going to suffocate me! And something told me that Brandy wouldn't lose a second's worth of sleep if she did.
Suddenly, I recalled the object I'd found in my pocket only moments earlier. The stun gun! C'mon Ally, use your brain! It's infuriating how poorly your mind functions when you find yourself in an assault situation. Even the most logical options tend to escape your thinking.
Discreetly, I reached into my jacket pocket and grabbed the rectangular device. Once I located the trigger button I withdrew the weapon from my pocket and lifted it quickly to Brandy's neck.
What happened next was quite frankly horrifying. As soon as I pressed the button, Brandy's eyes rolled back in her head and she began convulsing uncontrollably. Her legs gave out and I felt her body slump against mine. Scared of what would happen once I let go of the button, I continued pressing it as we both slid down the wall and landed a tangled heap on floor. I finally I let go of the button and scrambled to my feet. Brandy remained lifeless on the floor.
Holding back the urge to start hysterically sobbing, I turned and sprinted toward the phone hanging from the wall next to the fridge. My hands shook uncontrollably as picked up the receiver and dialed zero. Moments later, a female voice answered the phone.
"Thank you for visiting the Kingdom, how may I help you?"
"Help!" I croaked. "I was just attacked in my room! I'm in the castle suit!"
"Okay, stay where you are," the woman replied, "I'm sending help right now."
I dropped the phone, letting it dangle against the wall by it's cord. With my back pressed against the refrigerator, I slid down into a seated position. I was still gripping the stun gun tightly in my hand with my arm outstretched towards Brandy's lifeless form. I could hear the woman on the other line continuing to talk, but I couldn't make out or care about what she was saying. Just so long as help was truly on the way.
I couldn't take my eyes off of Brandy. Was she dead? I'd never used a stun gun before. I had no idea what the safe amount of time was for holding down the button. I silently sought to justify my actions in my mind. I wasn't trying to hurt her! All I was thinking about was getting away alive!
Less than a minute later, the door swung open and half a dozen security guards poured into the suite with their guns drawn. I stood to my feet as they rushed toward Brandy.
"Is she alive?" I asked.
The guard wearing a beanie hat stepped cautiously toward me, holstering his weapon. "You're safe now, Ma'am," he said calmly, raising his hand toward me as if he was raptor training. "If you could do me a favor, and please put down your weapon." I quickly laid the stun gun on the floor. "Perfect," he replied. "Now, can you kick it over to me?" I did as he asked and kicked it across the slate floor. "Thank you," he replied as he picked it up and placed it in a clear evidence bag.
"Is she alive?!" I repeated more urgently.
One of the men kneeling over her stood to his feet and said, "Pulse is steady. She's unconscious but should be fine" Lifting his walkie-talkie to his face, he said, "Suspect fits description. Current state: unconscious. Requesting medical."
The man in the beanie hat approached me and softly asked, "Are you hurt?" I shook my head. "Mind if we step over here and have a chat?" I nodded my head and followed him into the living room. Despite the fact that I was now safe, I could still feel my body trembling. I was still in shock. I'd never gotten violently mugged or attacked before. To say that I was rattled would have been the understatement of the century. I felt like I could break out in tears at any moment.
The guard proceeded to flip the couch right-side up. "Care to have a seat?" he asked. I sat down and he joined me on the opposite end. "Do you mind walking me through what happened here?"
"Um," I replied, clearing my throat, "I walked inside a few minutes ago and... out of the clear blue she jumped me from behind. She slammed against the wall and began choking me."
"I'm so sorry. That must have been horrible," the guard replied softly. "Is that when you used the stun gun on her?"
I nodded. "Well, I wrestled it away from her first," I quickly corrected myself, remembering that it was a punishable crime to be in possession of a weapon. "Then I used it on her neck." The guard seemed to buy the lie as he nodded his head intently. "Is she gonna be okay?" I asked
"She'll be fine," the guard assured me. "Did you know her?"
"Yeah, I uh... I captured her during the hunt," I answered. "Then, I traded her away yesterday." Looking up at him, I could tell that the guard wanted more details about our relationship. Not wanting to get into it, I merely replied, "I guess you could say we've got a bit of history."
Suddenly, I heard a sultry voice over my right shoulder say, "That's a mild way to put it." I turned to see Annabelle walking toward us. "I'll take it from here, Garret," she added. The beanie-hatted guard named Garrett gave a slight nod before standing and walking away.
"I guess I owe you a big thanks," Annabelle said as she walked into the living room. "Ms. Michaels escaped custody this morning during a service task I assigned to her. Took out two security guards in the process." She stepped over to the wall opposite me and casually leaned against it. "Looking back, I ought to have hired you to keep an eye on her. Nice work."
Not interested in having another heart-to-heart with Annabelle, I stood to my feet and turned to leave. Since Annabelle had arrived, the lump in the back of my throat had disappeared and my confidence had returned. If there was one person on the planet capable of transforming my emotional fragility into stone-cold loathing and resentment, it was Annabelle.
"Did she say anything?" Annabelle prodded.
"Nope," I lied. "She just jumped me from behind. No warning, no nothing." I started walking back towards Garrett and the other guards.
"What do you supposed she was looking for?" Annabelle called after me.
I stopped in my tracks and turned to face her. "I couldn't tell ya," I lied.
"Well she clearly seemed to be searching for something," Annabelle mused as she circled an overturned dresser.
"Well, she didn't say anything if she was," I chided before walking away and rejoining the other guards in the entry hall.
Medical personnel had arrived and Brandy was now lying horizontal on a stretcher. Guards were busy restraining her wrists, ankles, legs and torso to the stretcher with black straps. Her collar had also been returned to her neck.
After a few seconds, Annabelle walked up beside me. "It seems I owe you one," Annabelle said soft enough for only me to hear her.
"No thanks," I laughed, crossing my arms defiantly. "The last time I accepted your assistance, you put Katie dead last on the auction list, causing her to sell for a million dollars."
"Okay, I do feel badly about that," Annabelle said matter-of-factly. "Not about putting her last, mind you. I actually had no control over auction placement. She was last to sign up, so naturally, she was last to be sold. I simply... made her situation sound more ideal than it actually was."
"Look," I interjected, turning to face her, "I really don't care at this point. What's done is done and all I can do now is learn from the past and not misplace my trust again."
"That is a good lesson to learn. Very astute of you, I might add," Annabelle replied. "But it doesn't change one simple fact."
"Oh yeah? What's that?" I asked, turning away.
Annabelle leaned closer to me and whispered into my ear, "A little bird tells me that you could really use my help right now."
Brandy's stretcher was suddenly lifted off the ground by several guards and carried out the front door. I followed the last of the guards outside onto the stoop. As they walked down the winding steps, Annabelle waited behind with me on the stoop.
"I understand you have a bit of a housing dilemma," Annabelle said.
I turned to stare at her. This was true. If I was to trade the suite for Katie, I desperately needed another place to stay. As much as I hated the fact that Annabelle knew this information, I couldn't help but hope that she might actually have a solution...
"Unfortunately, I have approximately zero strings to pool with the housing and residency execs," Annabelle continued. "So, securing you living accommodations is outside of my jurisdiction. But here's what I can do-" Annabelle's voice suddenly became much quieter and she leaned in towards me. "As I believe you're aware, Tom Murphy's been sentenced to a brief stay at the kennel."
I blinked, finding myself increasingly unnerved that Annabelle seemed to know exactly what and what not I was aware of...
"Normally, that would mean that his slaves also serve out his sentence with him," she explained. "But seeing as you were so instrumental in returning Ms. Michaels to her rightful owner, I'd like to offer you temporary custody of Miss Huff while Mr. Murphy serves his time."
I paused, studying Annabelle's face. "How?" I asked skeptically.
"I'm the head of corrections," Annabelle answered. "I can do those sorts of things."
"Can't you just give me permanent custody?" I countered. "Murphy did nearly kill her, after all."
"Unfortunately, I cannot," Annabelle replied shortly. "She is still his property. And as irresponsible as his actions were, this incident marks his first and only health code violation in three years. Unless there's a pattern of neglect, the judiciary would never rule to strip him of custody. Not even at my recommendation."
I shook my head in disgust. He'd owned the girl for less than twelve hours before getting her hospitalized. Four days in the kennel seemed like little more than a slap on the wrist for such a serious infraction.
Sensing that I was still dissatisfied, Annabelle placed her hand on her hip and added, "How about this- in addition to awarding you temporary custody, I'll even stretch Mr. Murphy's four-day kennel visit to a solid week." Annabelle recapped, "That's temporary custody and seven days that you get to remain here in the castle suite. That'll give you ample time to find a new living accommodations so you can complete your trade with Murphy upon his release." Annabelle reached out her hand toward me. "What say you?"
"I don't understand," I replied skeptically. "What's the catch? What's in this for you?"
Annabelle shrugged. "I've always had an aversion to being in anyone's debt. This should make us square." Not by a long shot, I thought. But her offer did seem to solve several problems that I currently faced...
It felt so wrong to be making another deal with Annabelle. Especially after she'd screwed me over so badly in our last arrangement. But as untrustworthy as she may have been, this particular deal bore no apparent downsides. And as an added bonus, Murphy would be spending an entire week in the kennel. After a few seconds, I begrudgingly grabbed and shook her hand.
"Fantastic," she concluded, withdrawing her hand. "I'll send a crew by shortly to have this place put back good as new. Shouldn't take but a few hours. If you'd like to go sit with Miss Huff in the meantime, I'll make sure that the health clinic knows you're authorized to be there."
With her business now complete, she proceeded to take her leave. "Oh, one more thing," she added spinning around at the top step to face me once, "Do the words delta november foxtrot mean anything to you?"
I suddenly felt a pit form in my stomach. Those were the cryptic words that Brandy had spoken earlier this week. While I had virtually no clue what they meant, I still felt distrustful of sharing the little I did know with Annabelle. "No," I responded, shaking my head slightly. I could feel my ears getting warm. Don't blush, Aly, don't blush. "Should they?"
Annabelle stared at me for a few seconds before replying, "I would imagine not." She turned once more and descended the steps with her heels clicking against the stonework. "Enjoy your week!" she called over her shoulder.
Damn, I thought. Even when she was being helpful, I still wanted to knock her teeth out. I turned and reentered the suite, closing the door behind me. What I wouldn't have given for a dull moment... This place was literally going to be the death of me, I thought to myself.
Minutes passed where I stood silently in the entry hall, processing all that had transpired. So far today, I'd broken into Murphy's apartment, nearly gotten banned from the health clinic, and been attacked in my own suite by a psychotic former slave... All before lunchtime!
My mind continued to swirl with question after unanswered question until I'd finally had enough. I wasn't going to find answers right now and I was just going to drive myself insane by trying. I promptly exited the suite and began jogging down the steps. Despite the fact that I loathed the idea of acting upon a suggestion from Annabelle, being by Katie's side was really the only thing I currently had any interest in doing.
Jogging once again through the cobblestone streets, I soon found myself reentering the health clinic. There were now two new women sitting behind the front desk.
"Miss O'Connell?" one of the women asked.
"That's me," I replied, out of breath.
"Here to see Katie Huff?" she asked.
"Yep," I answered, once again, a bit unnerved by how much everyone seemed to know about my activities.
"This way, please," the woman replied. She stood to her feet and lead me down the hallway. I followed behind her, impatiently wishing that she'd walk faster. After a few seconds, we arrived in front of Katie's room. The woman opened the door and held it open for me. "She's sedated right now, but you can sit with her while she sleeps."
"Thank you," I whispered back. As I stepped inside, I instantly felt the lump in my throat return. Katie's face still looked a bit puffy and she was hooked up to an IV drip and heart monitor. But to my relief, looked peaceful.
The door closed quietly behind me, leaving Katie and me alone. I slowly walked up beside her and brushed a strand of curly hair off her face. I couldn't help but feel guilty for all of this. Everything that had happened to her was either directly or indirectly a result of my own actions...
Taking a seat in the adjacent chair, I reached over and took her soft hand in mine. To my surprise, I felt a tear suddenly roll down my cheek. I quickly wiped away the tear and cleared my throat. What the hell was wrong with me? Get it together, Ally, I thought. Leaning back in my chair and closing my eyes, I discounted it as nothing more than the emotional effects of another challenging and trying day.
Chapter 11 - Hun (Brandy's Story)
Soaking wet from the rain, I tore through the trees, hurtling over fallen branches and roots. A latex hood with cutouts for my eyes, nose, and mouth encompassed my head, keeping the hair out of my eyes. As frustrating as it was to be naked, collared, ring-gagged, crotch-roped with a rubber G-string, and have my arms restrained behind my back, such hindrances had little affect on my speed. And thanks to a lifetime of walking outside barefoot, my feet were far too callused to be daunted by the occasional sharp stone or twig.
I panted heavily as I scanned my surroundings. I needed to find the unlocking station! Once I could free my arms, I knew this would be a completely different ballgame. Hearing what sounded like the loud snap of a twig behind me, I instantly ducked and scuttled behind the nearest tree. I held my breath for several seconds, listening intently for any signs of life. Hearing my pursuers through the latex hood was proving to be quite the challenge. Not to mention the torrential downpour that drowned out virtually every other sound in the entire forest.
After a few seconds, I inched my head outward to see around the tree trunk. All I could see was rain and heavily wooded forest. I exhaled, standing once more to my feet. Just then, I felt something cold and hard press against the nape of my neck.
"Game over," said a deep voice.
Dammit, I thought. I recognized the object pressed against my neck as the tip of a rifle. Unlike most rifles, however, this one did not fire bullets or rounds. Instead, this rifle emitted infrared beams. Sounds harmless, right? Wrong. In any normal setting, being hit with an infrared beam would be as consequential being shined on by a flashlight. But this was no normal setting. The wearable technology I was sporting had basically turned me into a target for laser tag. If an infrared beam were to make contact with any part of my body, it would trigger an electrical response in my collar and butt-plug. Oh, didn't I tell you? The rubber G-string I was wearing had a built in butt-plug. Fucked up, huh? So, upon being hit with an infrared beam from one of these rifles, 3,000 volts of electricity would be distributed simultaneously to both my neck and anus.
I sighed and allowed my head to drop forward in a sign of defeat. Statistically, this technique has tested the highest probability of prompting an attacker to lower his weapon. As poor luck would have it, however, the tip of the rifle remained firmly pressed against my neck. Time for plan B.
In one swift move, I turned my head to the side and kicked off of the tree in front of me with my dominant foot. The result was me hurtling backwards and colliding forcefully into my assailant. With my head turned, the tip of the tip of the gun slid across my wet skin and beneath my ear.
With the weapon no longer aimed at me, I had milliseconds to execute my next move. My assailant had been knocked off balance, but was still on his feet. This needed to change. Without hesitation, I parried left nailed him in the side of his knee with my heel. Crying out in pain, he dropped hard to the ground. Seizing what would likely be my only opportunity to knock him out, I spun and leapt into a tornado kick.
No sooner did I leave the ground, my assailant managed to aim his rifle towards me and pull the trigger. Agonizing pain shot through me from my neck and anus, causing me to suddenly lose all muscle function. Instead of rotating my torso and landing the kick at his jawline, I merely collapsed to the ground like a sack of potatoes, twitching and convulsing in the mud. Keeping his finger firmly planted on the trigger, I watched helplessly as he stood to his feet and casually stepped behind me.
Dammit, I thought. Did he have to keep the trigger pulled? I was completely powerless as I felt him grab me by the back of my collar and yank me to my knees. Once I was kneeling in a doggie-style position, my assailant finally released the trigger. I moaned in relief as the electric shocks subsided. But though the pain had ceased, the grimace on my face remained as I braced for the fucking that was soon to follow.
I gave an involuntary gasp as I felt him tug my G-string to the side and plunge forcefully inside of me. My eyes suddenly shot wide open. Dammit, the cock was huge! Huge and ribbed... Fortunately, the rain had kept my vagina fairly lubricated. Otherwise, a cock of this size would have gone in quite uncomfortably. I clenched my fists beneath the armbinder, digging my fingernails into my palms. I growled into my gag as I felt him slide in and out. In and out.
After about a minute of this, I heard a loud whistle to my right. My assailant pulled out of me and released the back of my collar, causing me to topple forward onto the ground.
"Bastard!" I yelled, face down in the mud. But with the ring-gag in my mouth, it came out more like, "Aathawd!" I rolled onto my side and laid panting in a fetal position. Wouldn't you know, he pulled out just as I was beginning to actually get something pleasurable out of it...
My assailant straightened up and stood at attention with hands by his side and feet together. I glared at the large black rubber dildo that was strapped to his naval. Why the fuck did it need to be so large? I wondered angrily. After a few seconds, several men stepped toward me through the tree line. In front was an older man in his late 70's dressed in military attire and a rain-repellent trench coat. I recognized him as General Leonard Hersh.
"Congratulations, Sergeant," he said in a growly voice. "You've been claimed. Again." General Hersh stared down at me the way a dog owner looks down at an accident on the kitchen floor. Despite his reputation as a stoic and emotionless leader, his gaunt face was etched with dissatisfaction at my repeated failures to overpower my assailant.
I dropped my head in a mixture of shame and resentment. This was my fourth time being captured this morning. This meant that I had been raped four times by a fellow navy seals wearing strap-ons. As debasing as that was, it was far more infuriating to be expected to complete a task that was so implausible. There was simply no way I'd be able to get the jump on an armed attacker while my arms were restrained behind my back! Real field conditions or not, this exercise was fucking rigged.
Hold up... Before I go any further into this story, I should probably introduce myself. My name is Debra Nolan. I'm 26 years of age, blonde, 5 foot 10 inches, and 139 pounds of pure muscle. My code name is Delta November Foxtrot and my mission alias is Brandy Michaels.
About a month and a half ago, I was hand selected to join a special operations task force codenamed Mantis. I was one of 5 women tasked with going undercover inside an international human trafficking syndicate. While I'm hardly a stranger to special ops task forces, nothing could have prepared me for the training I'd receive for this mission. Over the past month, under the command of General Hersh, I had endured just about every type of sexual stress test imaginable. But given the sexual nature of the role I'd be playing, this particular area of training would prove to be critical. Sexual endurance was essential to success.
The objective of this mission was to infiltrate the trafficking syndicate, duplicate data files from their main servers, and then get the hell out. Simple enough, right? I wish I could agree. The fact of the matter is- our statisticians awarded this mission a mere 20% chance of success. Typically, special ops won't even consider missions with less than 60%.
But as you might have imagined, extenuating circumstances played a big role in this particular case. Almost one year ago to the week, technology industries celebrated the invention of AI quantum encryption. In non-geek speech, this translates to artificial intelligence-based security software that renders devices and databases virtually unhackable.
If you're someone who's thinking that this sounds like a good thing, you should probably think again. In eight months from now, the anonymous creator of this software, who goes by Harpocrates, vowed to make his creation open-source and available to the world. When that happens, every criminal on the planet will have been given the gift of electronic invisibility. As someone in the military who relies on data interception to keep the world safe, this poses obvious complications. But regardless of how you feel about the Patriot Act and FISA, a crime wave was almost certainly on the horizon.
The announcement of the software's creation sent shockwaves through Washington. The joint armed forces suddenly had a hard deadline for making their move against their highest priority criminal organizations. Kicking the proverbial can down the road risked the possibility of watching these cartels and syndicates become virtual ghosts. The clock was now ticking.
That's where I come in. My infiltration into this particular syndicate had begun with my enrollment in a 'hunger games' style hunt. Along with roughly 200 other women from across the world, I would be transported to an undisclosed location in the woods, believed to be somewhere along the continental southeastern coast. Here, we would be naked and restrained in similar fashion to how I currently found myself. Wealthy male hunters armed with infrared rifles would proceed to scour the woods, hoping to capture and claim one of us as their own live-in sex slaves for the following three months.
As fucked up as that was, it was what happened after those three months ended that had the attention of the United States government. Each year, a plurality of women went missing around the same time of year. The syndicate was believed to be responsible. These women appeared to be meticulously chosen based on their societal footprint. Typically, they were women with little to no family, few savings, and low paying careers. They were people who wouldn't be sorely missed.
Given the fact that candidates were required to enroll one year in advance, we had missed the deadline. My fellow operators and I were forced to assume the identities of women who had already been enrolled. Upon tracking down as many enrolled women as possible, homeland security began the lengthy process of cross-comparing their profiles with our military databases to locate potential doppelgangers for recruitment into the task force. I just so happened to match the physical characteristics of a Ms. Brandy May Michaels from Tallahassee. She had attended the year prior and apparently enjoyed sexual slavery so much that she decided to return for round two.
But unfortunately for Brandy, she wouldn't be given the chance. Because, as of last week, she had been moved out of the state and placed in witness protection. We couldn't very well have two Brandy Michaels walking around, could we?
So, here I am. Nearing the end of my training for what was likely the most fucked up special ops mission in military history. Like anyone in the service will tell you, there were days I wanted to quit. Days where I wanted to desert and get the hell away from the madness. But days like today, I just wanted to kick someone's ass. Days like today kept me focused. Which brings me back to my story...
General Hersh knelt down over me and began unbuckling my gag with one hand. "Tell me, Sergeant," he growled. "How many more times do you plan on trying that move before accepting that it doesn't work?"
"Sorry, sir," I replied as the gag was pulled from my mouth. I wasn't sorry. If I had any chance at taking down a hunter, it was gonna be by this attack combination or something similar. It was just a matter of the stars aligning...
The general simply stared back at me. Hersh always gave me the impression that he was calculating. He was widely accredited as being one of the military's most brilliant strategists and had a keen sense for reading people. I guess this was to be expected after nearly 40 years consulting for special ops.
"Why did you fall?" He asked me in a lower voice.
"Sir?" I asked
"I asked you why you fell," he repeated.
I hesitated before answering, "I was shot, sir."
He lifted his hand and rubbed his forehead impatiently. "I get that you were shot," he replied. "But that doesn't explain why you collapsed to the ground like a landed trout." I merely stared back at him. "Have you ever taken a bullet, Sergeant?"
"Yes, sir," I replied.
"Where?" He asked.
"My left shoulder, sir," I said, nodding my head toward the scar beneath my collarbone.
"I see," Hersh replied. "And what did you do when you got shot? Did you... fall to the ground? Curl into a fetal position?"
"No, sir," I replied, lowering my gaze. "I carried out the ambush as planned."
Hersh stood up, scratching his chin. "How interesting," he replied patronizingly. "I think I'd like to see what that looks like one of these times." And with that, he disappeared back into the trees. "Reset and go again!"
I sighed as one of the men accompanying him knelt down and forced the ring-gag back in my mouth. Dammit. Despite what Hersh was implying, there was simply no way I'd be able to push through a shot from one of these weapons! It wasn't the pain that prevented me from maintaining my balance. It was the debilitating affects that 3,000 volts of electricity had on your muscles!
Once my gag was buckled behind my head, the men standing around me dispersed, leaving me alone in the forest again. I rolled over and sat in an upright position. Leaning back on my enclosed palms, I lifted my face to the sky, allowing the rain to wash the mud away. Based on my previous attempts, I knew that I had roughly 2 minutes to rest before Hersh's whistle blew again.
As much as I resented General Hersh and his impossibly high expectations, I couldn't help but feel star-struck to be under his command. Hersh was something of a celebrity in the military. During the Vietnam War, he earned the nickname, Hun. The etymology of this name varies depending on whom you ask. The history books will say that it came from his time as a prisoner of war. According to fellow POW's who were held captive at the same time, Hersh coined a trademark reply for his "interrogation sessions". When being tortured by his captors, he would answer them with a single word. That word was hơn (pronounced "hun") which meant "more" in Vietnamese. Instead of complying with his captors' questions and demands, Hersh simply asked for more. This quickly became a battle cry of resistance. Once Hersh's obstinacy and bravery was witnessed by his fellow prisoners, they too adopted his catchphrase. No matter which prisoner was being tortured, no matter what questions were being asked, the standard reply was henceforth hơn.
The other story for how Hersh got his nickname is a bit darker. Not something you'd expect to read in an honors history textbook. The name Hun came from his alleged ruthlessness in combat. According to some, Hersh adopted a tradition that was infamous to the Huns of Mongol. Dating back to the 15th century, on the day of their birth, male babies were slashed with a sword on both of their cheeks. This was done as a means to make them learn to endure pain. Urban legend has it that Hersh was known to carve the faces of war enemies in similar fashion.
But regardless of which backstory was true, it successfully earned General Hersh his place as the unofficial poster child for military bad-asses. And based on my interaction with him over the last month, I would say that he certainly lived up to the reputation.
I ended up running the drill another twelve times after that. All twelve times, I was shot, bent over, and raped with the giant strap-on dildo. The electricity that accompanied being shot was just too intense for me to fight through. Unless the other girls were part-ox, there was simply no way that anyone would be capable of staying on their feet after such an assault. Despite my greatest efforts, I always found myself twitching in a heap on the muddy ground.
Eventually, I was too exhausted to put up a fight. Though I only had experienced one orgasm throughout the entire exercise, it had successfully zapped my energy and turned my legs to jello. Once it was clear that I had digressed beyond hope, I was dismissed for the day. Hersh avoided eye contact with me as he made his leave. I stared after him like an unwanted stepchild as his subordinates released from my restraints and handed me a poncho.
Upon returning to base, I spent the next 45 minutes in the shower. For as long as I could remember, the shower had always been my ideal place to decompress. And after a day like today, there was quite a lot to decompress from. Unfortunately, this was a rare luxury for military personnel. When deployed, we usually had to watch our water consumption levels and had to share the heat between everyone in the platoon. The nice thing about this particular mission, however, was my solitude. Since every woman was kept isolated from the others, I didn't have to share the barracks with anyone. I had all the time and hot water to myself.
Eventually, I pulled myself away, got dressed, and made my way to the mess hall. With exception to what looked to be a few data analysts off to the corner, I had the place all to myself. Sometimes, I'd see the other women eating meals, but we were prohibited from sitting with or talking to each other. Since the vast number of protocols for this task force were solo missions, there was no reason for us to interact. The more we knew about each other, the greater liability we would become should our covers ever be blown.
After my meal, I headed up to the roof. This was one of the only places I'd found on the base without security cameras. Aside from the shower, this was my perhaps my second favorite place to relax. The west side of the building also had quite the spectacular view this time of evening. Swinging my feet over the edge of some elevated ductwork, I sat for the next 15 minutes watching the sun set. A bright orange hue painted everything in sight and the wind tossed my hair behind me.
"How's it goin', Foxtrot?" a familiar voice said from behind me, snapping out of my daze. I turned to see Staff Sergeant Keith Winters walking toward me. Keith was our immediate commanding officer on the task force. He was the only other operator we were likely to have any contact with once we entered the field.
Keith and I went way back. We both hailed from the Navy and we even served together on multiple special ops teams. But our relationship wasn't strictly professional. During our second tour together in Beirut, we posed as honeymooners. The reason we played our roles so well was because we weren't actually playing them. There was little to no pretense in our displays of affection. And on top of our physical and emotional connection, we worked incredibly well together. So well that we continued to be paired up together for future missions. Our fun never interfered with our work and our work only intensified our fun.
When we weren't on missions, we had to be more creative about how we saw each other. Over the course of years, we'd managed to maintain our relationship in secret. But as exciting as that was, there were always days like today when I wished that Keith could just come clean with the world and hold me without fear of getting us both dishonorably discharged.
"We calling each other by our codenames now?" I asked.
"Gotta get used to it again. Can't afford to accidentally call you Deb out in the field, can I," he asked rhetorically as he sat down on the ductwork next to me.
"I suppose not... Kilo Whiskey Alpha," I replied, turning back toward the setting sun.
"You alright?" Keith asked, taking a seat next to me on the ledge.
"Yeah," I answered flashing him an unconvincing smile. "Just another day."
"Wanna talk about it?" he asked.
"Nah, just more of the same," I answered. "The sexual exercises, rapings in the double digits. It just... gets to ya after a while, you know?" I gave a long sigh. "Not quite what I envisioned when I signed up to serve my country."
"I get it," Keith replied, looking intently into my eyes. "I mean, I, I don't get it. I can't even imagine..." Keith looked genuinely sympathetic as he struggled to find the right words to comfort me. Unlike most military guys I knew, Keith was an empath. His big heart was one of the things that attracted me most to him. And his thoughtfulness had a way of prompting me to confide in him like I'd never been able to with anyone else.
"But what you're doing," he continued, "-what you're going to do for all those women... Well, you know how proud I am of you." I felt Keith rub my back softly, sending tingles down my spine. It was downright depressing how starved I was for human touch. Depressing and pathetic.
"So, you ready for your trial?" He asked, changing the subject.
I groaned in dread, craning my head back to stare into the darkening sky. "As ready as someone can be for a trial that could start at any moment and consist of literally any task," I replied.
Before being cleared for deployment on special ops task forces, every operator was expected to complete a trial to be assigned by the joint commanders. You could be the toughest, smartest, and most experienced soldier in history. But if you failed your trial, it almost always resulted in your reassignment. Trials were chosen on a person-by-person basis and most-often catered to a particular area of weakness. While I've never personally failed any special ops trials, I've also never faced any trial that involved sexual activity. Judging by the training I'd received so far for this mission, this was certain to be expected.
"Do you know what's being planned for me?" I asked.
"I have no clue," Keith replied shaking his head. "Sorry."
"Ugh," I said, cracking my knuckles. "Hersh doesn't like me. I just know he's gonna throw the kitchen sink at me."
"Hersh doesn't like anyone," Keith replied, chuckling. "But I wouldn't worry about it. You'll knock it out of the park like you always do."
I laughed sarcastically. "You clearly didn't read today's report," I replied, turning to face him. "I bombed today's exercise. Hard."
Keith gave a frustrated sigh. "Deb, how many times do I have to tell you? These exercises aren't designed to be won. They're meant to prepare you for the worst and build your endurance. That's all."
"So, how are the other girls doing with it all?" I asked.
"They're doin' well," he replied vaguely.
I waited for him to elaborate, but he simply stared off into the distance. "That's all I get?" I asked, cocking one eyebrow. "Who's the frontrunner?"
Keith shook his head, playing dumb. "Frontrunner?"
"Oh, come off it," I pressed him. "Which one of us are the commanders betting on?"
"Everyone's got their own strengths," Keith deflected. "Charlie can outrun a gazelle, Bravo could bench me stone cold. And Houdini would have had nothin' on Echo." I tilted my head in confusion. "The woman has to be the most gifted escapologist there is," he clarified. "Although a little creepy to watch," he added. "Double-jointed people weird me out." He turned his head to face me. "But my money? I'd put it on you any day and twice on Sunday."
"Yeah, right," I replied dismissively.
"I'm serious," he insisted.
"Is that why you chose me last for this mission?" I asked.
"I didn't choose you initially," he explained, "-because I wanted you nowhere near any of this." He shifted in his seat. "For obvious reasons."
"So what changed?" I asked.
Keith hesitated before answering. "I ended up coming to the conclusion that I wanted this mission to succeed. And there was simply nobody I trusted more to get it done," he answered.
I sighed, unsure of what to say. Keith's words were sweet and thoughtful as usual, but they also managed to add even more weight on my shoulders...
"And who knows?" he added. "If the stars align, you could be in and out of there in less than 7 days."
"Ugh, don't even say it," I said rolling my eyes. "There's no way protocols 1 through 5 will be viable. I'm just not lucky enough for that."
"You never know," Keith said smiling.
I sighed and laid my head against his shoulder. I'm not sure I would have had the mental fortitude to do this mission without Keith's support. Obviously we all had access to the military psychologist, but nothing beat being able to unload and vent to the person I cared most about. I almost felt guilty to have Keith while the other girls had no one.
Keith kissed the top of my head and stroked my hair. "A lot of women are gonna end up owing their lives to you," he said softly. "I mean it."
The two of us remained seated on the rooftop until the sun was completely set. Once it was dark, Keith gave me a small kiss on the lips before leaving. I would have stayed there with him all night if I could have.
Eventually, I stood up and headed back to my barracks. Watching the sun set had put me in the perfect mood for bed. Despite it only being just past 20:00, I decided to call it a night. I slipped into my nightwear and climbed into bed. No sooner did my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light.
I slept like I was getting paid for it for several hours until I abruptly awoke to the sound of footsteps. No sooner did my eyes open, I felt a hand clamp down over my mouth. I emitted a muffled scream and tried to sit up, but several more hands pinned me down to my bed. It was dark, but I could make out at least four hooded figures dressed in black standing over me. I struggled and kicked, but as strong as I was, I was no match for this many aggressors.
With my arms pined to my side, I was turned forcefully over onto my stomach. The hand over my mouth suddenly released and I opened my mouth to scream. But as I did so, a large ring-gag was swiftly shoved into my mouth. I cursed myself for making it so easy to be gagged.
As the ring-gag's straps were being buckled behind my head, my arms were being forced behind my back. Each time I managed to squirm out of someone's grip, another set of hands was quick to grab me and hold me steady. As I struggled, I could feel ropes being wrapped around my arms and chest. Was this an exercise? An actual assault? Perhaps it was the start of my trial. I hated not knowing what was going on. Perhaps more than even being bound and gagged, I fucking hated being in the dark...
After a minute of struggling and hollering uselessly into my gag, my arms had been secured tightly behind my back into a box-tie. My nightwear and undergarments had been cut off and I was now wearing a collar. With my bondage complete, I felt my attackers release their grip on my upper body. I panted heavily, silently fuming at how easily they'd overpowered me. Maybe had there not been four of them...
Suddenly, I felt a hand on the small of my back followed by one of the most unpleasant feelings a girl can ever feel. Something cold and hard suddenly made contact with my anus and began forcing its way inside.
"AAAAAUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!" I wailed into my gag. I instinctually clenched my fists and tossed my head back and forth in a fit of rage. I had not agreed to this! Up to this point, I had always been briefed on what would be happening to me. What my objective was. What the fucking deal was! This time, I was finding out in real-time. None of my attackers had breathed a word since entering my quarters. As pissed as I was to be getting forcibly butt-plugged, the continued silence of my attackers made it immeasurably worse.
Once the plug made its way past my sphincter, the pain subsided. I felt a rubber G-string being pulled between my legs and over my hips. I exhaled in frustration as I heard a buckle clasp shut beneath my abdomen, locking the G-string in place and trapping the butt-plug inside.
I was then tugged to my feet by my bound arms. I grunted as I was roughly walked across the room to the door. As I walked, I attempted to yank my arms away from my assailant's grip, in an attempt to convey that I was perfectly capable of walking unassisted. But that only prompted my captor's hand to grip me even tighter.
I was walked outside where there was an open-air Humvee parked by the entrance of the barracks. The outside lamps were dark, but sky was fairly bright from the moonlight, allowing me to see where I was stepping. The three black-clad figures climbed inside the vehicle, and the last one walked me up to the rear bumper. Then, he reached down and flicked a switch on what appeared to be a rearview camera of sorts. Once a small red light appeared, the he released my arm, walked to the driver seat of the car and climbed inside. I stood there confused as to what I was supposed to do next.
"Uhl, ot ahell?" I asked. That's gaglish for "Um, what the hell?" The vehicle started and began to drive away. Seriously, what the hell? Approximately 2 seconds later, I had my answer.
All of the sudden, my asshole was pelted with electricity, causing me to leap out of my skin. It wasn't nearly as strong of a shock as I'd experienced earlier, but it was plenty strong enough to scare the fuck out of me. Then, I felt another zap. And another. And another. And another! A steady pulse of electricity was coursing through my ass. And with my hands secured in a box-tie roughly a foot above my G-string, there was absolutely no way to stop it. To make matters worse, each zap seemed to be getting stronger and timed closer together. I looked up at the Humvee, desperate for any clue as to what was happening and how to make it stop. Suddenly the Humvee skidded to a stop and revved its engine.
That's when I realized what was going on. The rearview camera-looking device on the rear bumper must have been a proximity sensor. I was expected to keep up with the Humvee! Desperate to stop the pain in my ass, I sprang into action, racing forward. Surely enough, as I got closer, the electric shocks became less intense and spaced further apart. Fuck, could they really not have just given me instructions? This silence shit was for the birds!
Once I got within 10 feet, the Humvee started forward again. To my relief, the electricity subsided. I made a mental note that 10 feet appeared to be the magic distance. But I quickly grew worried. The Humvee was picking up speed. And when I say speed, I mean a lot of speed... Within 15 seconds, I found myself racing at a near sprint.
I panted loudly as I tore after the Humvee. I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to carry on at this speed. Normally, I'd have lasted about two minutes at this pace. But normal circumstances did not have me butt-plugged and barefoot with my arms restrained behind my back. The collar around my neck wasn't helping my circumstances either. Though I'd become well acquainted with wearing a collar over the past month, it was especially infuriating to have one strapped snugly around my neck when I was breathing heavily.
The collar had also been weighted in order to closely resemble the one I'd be wearing on the mission. Upon my arrival, I'd be fitted with a collar that was not only equipped with electro-shocking hardware, but contained nearly a half pound of biometric sensor technology. According to an intercepted prototype that Research and Development had managed to reverse-engineer, the collars that were used by the syndicate had a myriad of biological sensors built into them. They measured a wearer's heart-rate, blood pressure, oxygen levels, sugar levels, and even temperature. The collar also included a state of the art electrodermal activity sensor which, when combined with the all the other data, was capable of determining a wearer's level of pain and discomfort. A transmitter at the back of the collar was tasked with sending all of these readings seamlessly to an external source.
In a setting where I was told that "safe words" would not be required or even acknowledged, it was at least a relief to know that my vitals and pain levels would be monitored by someone behind the scenes. Unfortunately, given the endurance that I'd built over the past month, my threshold for pain was now undoubtedly higher than most. I often wondered how that would affect my readings...
After about 45 seconds of sprinting, I could feel myself losing steam. With each step, I could see the Humvee getting a little bit further away from me. But there was nothing I could do. I was running at a full-out sprint. The proximity sensor, however, took no sympathy. I suddenly felt a powerful zap to my anus. I shrieked and struggled to maintain my balance. Gritting down on my ring-gag, I pushed myself to run harder. Shit shit shit! After about four zaps, I was able to catch up to the Humvee's ten-foot perimeter and end the assault on my asshole.
But my victory was short-lived. Because as soon as I caught back up, the Humvee picked up speed as it drove down a hill. Motherfucker! I used the elevation to my advantage and tried to match its speed. But almost immediately, I found myself back outside the ten-foot perimeter again. My fingernails dug into my palms as my ass was pelted with more electricity. I did my best to ignore the pain, but it seemed to worsen with each step I took.
Once I reached the bottom of the hill, I was about ready to collapse. I think it must have showed because the Humvee had slowed down significantly to allow me to catch up. I trudged after it, desperate to lessen the intensity of the electricity pulsing through me. But the driver appeared to be toying with me. Each time I got close, he'd step on the gas and go faster, keeping me just outside of the ten-foot perimeter. Whoever were my captors were fucking sadists!
This continued for another two minutes until we arrived at a warehouse that resembled an airplane hanger. I recognized it from the first day I'd arrived on base. Once the Humvee finally came to a stop, I fell over onto the ground in exhaustion, my upper body collapsing in the dirt.
The black-clad figures jumped out of the vehicle and walked over to me. Bending over me, I felt them unbuckle my G-string and pull it off of me. Moments later, I winced in pain as I felt the butt-plug pulled from my anus. Damn, it was almost as uncomfortable coming out as it was going in!
Still not speaking a word, the figures grabbed me by my upper arms and hoisted me to my feet. Barely able to keep my balance, I stumbled along, allowing them to guide me to the door of the building. The figure in front pressed his thumb to a scanner next to the door which prompted a beep and series of clicks. Pulling the door open, the five of us entered inside. The fact that I'd been led to a secure level-3 facility almost certainly meant that this was part of a training exercise.
I exhaled in relief as my feet made contact with the smooth concrete floor of the warehouse. As callused as my feet may have been, they were in a serious amount of pain after that run. I wasn't running on grass or sand, mind you. I had just run a mile on a mixture of dirt and pebbles.
The warehouse was dark and appeared to be empty. I was walked to the back of the large room where I saw a black device sitting on the floor with a pink dildo protruding upwards at its center. I recognized the device as a sybian. A sybian, as I'd recently come to learn, was a vibrating saddle that a woman would sit atop of in a kneeling position. More than just a regular vibrator, sybians were capable of ungodly intense vibrations. Far greater than what any woman could possibly find pleasurable.
In a typical kidnap scenario, I imagine I'd have struggled, kicking and screaming as my captors led me toward an ominous sex toy. But between my sheer exhaustion and near certainty that this was a Hersh-sanctioned exercise, I resolved myself to going quietly. Based on my previous experiences with the sybian, I knew I'd need my strength...
Without incident, I lifted one leg over the sybian and squatted down, cautiously descending onto the dildo. As soon as I felt the tip of the dildo against my pussy lips, I felt a hand on my shoulder pushing me downward. With my leg strength nearly depleted, the dildo plunged into me in one swift shot, causing my eyes to bulge wide in discomfort. Bastard!
My ring-gag was unbuckled behind my head and pulled from my mouth. I tilted my head to the side and cracked my neck, slowly feeling my resilient spirit returning to me.
"You assholes gonna tell me what the hell's going on, now?" I asked, still panting from my run. The black-clad figures ignored me and proceeded to strap my ankles and upper calves to the side of the sybian. "Of course not," I answered myself.
Within seconds, I was locked to the sybian with no hope of lifting myself off. Without saying a word, the four of them walked away in silence and exited through a door to my right, leaving me alone on the floor of the dark warehouse.
As soon as the door closed behind them, the overhead lights of the warehouse turned on, nearly blinding me. I closed my eyes and turned my face away from the bright lights.
"Welcome, Sergeant Nolan," echoed a loud growly voice over a loud speaker. The voice belonged to General Hersh.
Squinting into the light, I looked up and saw a large rectangular window about 30 feet in front of me. Standing behind the window was General Hersh and 6 other commanders. All eyes were on me, naked, bound, and straddling the sybian.
"You've been brought here to complete your trial," Hersh said into a microphone in front of him. My heart to drop in my chest upon hearing the word trial. "Upon completion, you will be cleared for deployment. Failure will result in your immediate reassignment."
My heart rate, which had slowed over the last couple of minutes, was suddenly racing again. This was it. Nearly three months of grueling training under the most unconventional and deviant regimens imaginable came down to one singular trial. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach...
"You will be shown a series of images. After each set, you will be asked detail-oriented questions about those images. Failure to answer these questions may result in your immediate failure," Hersh explained. "As you study the images, the vibrating device you are seated upon will be active. It will be up to you to maintain your focus and concentration in spite of your physical distractions. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," I replied, my voice sounding more timid than I'd anticipated. I was confused. I'd always heard that trials were designed to cater to a soldier's weaknesses. Memory recall had always been a strength of mine. More than a strength, even. I had a photographic memory. Surely, they knew this. The only way they would have missed it is if they'd lost my records. Even with a sybian vibrating between my legs, this trial was sure to be a cinch...
"Very well," Hersh replied. "In a moment, the device you're seated on will be activated. After two minutes of run time, you'll be shown three images. You'll have 15 seconds to study each image. Once your time expires, the device will become inactive and we'll proceed with our inquiry. Any questions?"
"No, sir," I answered, shifting my weight and leaning forward in preparation.
"Alright," Hersh growled. "Let's begin."
Suddenly, the large window in front of me turned from translucent to solid white and the sybian between my legs roared to life. Startled, my mouth instinctually shot open. Holy hell it was intense! The vibrations were so violent that they caused my entire body to shake. I exhaled slowly. 'Mind over matter, Deb,' I told myself. You've got this. Over the past couple of months, I'd become quite gifted at fending off orgasms. Obviously, I wasn't always successful, but I was certainly more in control than I was when I started my training a month ago.
As the seconds passed, I felt my heart rate quicken and my breathing become more labored. I squinted and stared at a stain on the concrete floor in an effort to maintain my focus. After a minute, I could feel my resolve slipping. The vibrations were just too damn intense! To my helpless frustration, I could feel my body betraying me and inching closer and closer to climax. I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. 'Steady, Deb,' I told myself.
"I, Delta November Foxtrot," I whispered to myself, "-do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic." Reciting the military oath of enlistment was a technique that Keith had shared with me to help me keep my wits in tense situations. As cheesy as it sounds, it's proved itself to be a lifesaver on several occasions. I desperately hoped that this be one of those occasions... "-that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders-"
Suddenly, the white window in front of me changed to a widescreen photograph of a diner. It was go time. I studied the picture, taking note of even the most trivial of details. The number of people, the number of men versus women, their ages, sizes, outfits, the location of the exits, the time listed on the wall clock, the specials listed on the menu board- no detail was too small or insignificant. Literally any question might be asked.
After 15 seconds, the picture changed to a photograph of a time square. I studied the billboards, vehicles, visible license plate numbers, pedestrians, their ages, sizes, outfits, etc. Lastly, the picture changed to a photograph of a crime scene with multiple bodies lying on the floor. I could feel an orgasm rapidly approaching. Eager to put it out of mind, I squinted my eyes to slits and zeroed in on the image in front of me.
Then, all at once, everything stopped. The sybian turned off, the image disappeared, and the large rectangular window became translucent again, revealing Hersh and the commanders looking at me intently.
"Image one," one of the commanders to Hersh's right said into a microphone. "What time was the picture taken and where?"
"12:41pm in Waverly, Nebraska," I replied.
"What were the servers holding?" he asked.
"The dark-haired server was holding a coffee pot, and the light-haired server, a notepad and pen," I answered.
"Image two," the man continued, not looking up from the clipboard he was reading from. "What type of vehicle is closest to the camera?"
"A police horse," I answered.
"How many remaining seconds are listed on the cross-walk display?"
"Four," I replied without hesitation.
"Image three," the man continued. "Which investigative body possessed control of the crime scene?
I closed my eyes in contemplation, "SAPD," I replied.
"What were the victims' causes of death?"
"The two females showed lacerations to the neck and the male had a gunshot wound to the head.
Hersh suddenly leaned forward to speak into his microphone, "The next set will begin with three minutes of stimulation prior to three images at 15 seconds each."
"Yes, sir," I replied.
"Begin," he added before the window turned back to solid white.
I groaned as the sybian roared back to life again. Shit shit shit, I thought as I clenched my fists and toes. "I, Delta November Foxtrot," I breathed out loud "-do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States-" It had only been a few seconds and I was already slipping into ecstasy. I continued reciting the creed and started over once I reached the end. I was teetering on the brink of orgasm. But my resolve was strong.
After several minutes passed without orgasm, I had successfully surprised myself. I felt like it could happen at any moment now. I continued speed-reciting the creed over and over until the white image finally changed to a photograph of a grocery store. The next image after that was a photograph of a train station. The last one was a photograph of a professional basketball game.
And then, the sybian ceased and the window turned translucent again. I slumped over panting. I'd made it. Barely, but I'd officially made it through another set without cumming.
"Image one," the commander said into his microphone. "What are the contents of aisle 6?"
I hesitated before replying, recalling the signs hanging over each aisle, "Cereal, pancake syrup, canned milk, and coffee,"
"What color shirts are the employees wearing?" he continued.
"Green," I answered.
"Image two," the commander continued. "Which gate does the Kensington train depart from?"
"Um... eleven," I replied.
"Which advertisement is highlighted on left-hand side of the terminal?" he asked.
"Anheuser Busch," I answered.
"Image three," he pressed on, "How many basketball players are wearing knee braces?"
"Two," I replied.
"Is the player who's taking the shot right-handed or left-handed?" he asked.
I closed my eyes, attempting to see the image again in my mind. "Right handed?" I said in question form.
Hersh suddenly leaned forward and spoke again into his mic, "The next set will begin with four minutes of stimulation and you'll have only ten seconds to study each of the three images."
I threw my head back, groaning.
"What was that, Sergeant?" Hersh growled.
"Yes, sir," I replied loudly, still staring up at the ceiling. I wasn't sure how I'd be able to pull this next one off. Once I climaxed, I knew that my mental faculties would rapidly deteriorate. I also knew that having my first orgasm would open the floodgates for more to follow...
Suddenly, the sybian sprang to life again and the window turned white. Holy shit! The pitch of the roar was a noticeably higher than it was before which meant that the sybian had been set to a stronger intensity. Motherfuckers!
I closed my eyes and screamed through my teeth, "I, Delta November Foxtrot do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution-" And that's all I made it through before experiencing the most intense orgasm of my entire life. My body contorted and and trembled uncontrollably as I wailed through my clenched jaw. Dammit! Dammit! DAMMIT!!! My trial had suddenly gotten much more complicated...
The orgasm lasted for what felt to be 30 seconds. By the time it was over, I felt like I could have collapsed. It was as if all of my energy had suddenly vanished. But the worst part of it all was the continued relentless assault of the sybian. In my personal opinion, one of the worst sexual tortures imaginable was being over-stimulated post-climax. After an orgasm, everything becomes far more sensitive and raw. Even minor stimulations quickly turn from pleasurable to painful.
I opened my eyes to make sure the next image hadn't appeared yet. To my disappointment, the window remained white. I could tell that my climax had had already done a number on my mental state. I honestly had no idea how much time had passed and how much time I had left. I took a deep breath and attempted to compose myself. Get it together, Debra, I thought to myself.
With the help of my military creed, I was able to hold out for another couple of minutes before being rocked by another mind-melting orgasm. This one was less intense, but equally as psychologically taxing. And given the fact that I was fearful of missing the next image, I had to orgasm while keeping my eyes open. This, I came to realize, was more challenging than it sounded...
On the heels of my second orgasm, a photograph of a boat dock appeared, followed by a photograph of a carnival, and lastly a photograph of a chessboard. Fortunately, my orgasm had subsided just in time for me to concentrate and I was able to direct my full attention to the images in front of me.
Then, the sybian stopped vibrating and the window became translucent again. As I had been before, I was asked two questions per image, to which I answered semi-confidently. And once again, without telling me whether or not I was correct, Hersh leaned forward and spoke into his mic.
"Alright," he said. "The next set will begin with five minutes of stimulation that leads into questions from the images you've already seen."
I had to bite the insides of my cheeks to stop myself from screaming at him. How the hell did he expect me to be conscious after five more minutes of this?
"Yes, sir!" I shouted, bracing myself for the sybian to spring back to life. A moment later, that's just what happened. I abandoned my military creed in favor of screaming insanely at the ceiling. Moments into the set, I climaxed again, sending my body into another convulsive fit. I continued shrieking in the hopes that it would help keep me alert.
At this point, my orgasms were lasting no more than a few seconds and were occurring at a faster frequency. This, I'd come to learn over the past couple of months was the result of over-stimulation. Eventually, my orgasms would become what are called "micro-orgasms" and grow so close together that they'd be indistinguishable from each other.
By the end of my five minutes, I was a total wreck. My body was slick with a coat of sweat, my hair was matted against my forehead, and a pool of cum had accumulated on either side of the sybian. But as distraught as I was, my anger was what was keeping me upright. This wasn't a trial. This was fucking MADNESS. The commanders were nothing more than a bunch of sadists.
Finally, the window became translucent again and the commander with the clipboard leaned into his mic to ask his questions. But to my shock, the sybian didn't stop...
"In the photograph of the diner," he began, "-how many customers are standing?"
"Um, aren't you gonna turn this shit off?" I shouted at him as I came down from another orgasm.
"I repeat, how many customers are standing?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of his paper.
I threw my head back and groaned, "Two!" I shouted. This was fucking ridiculous.
"In the basketball game," the commander continued, "-how much time is left on the shot clock?"
My eyes suddenly rolled back in my head as another micro-orgasm hit me. I moaned as my body quivered uncontrollably.
"How much time is left on the shot-clock?" he reiterated.
"I don't know... 6!" I replied loudly. "6 seconds!"
Without missing a beat, the commander continued to his next question. "In the photograph of the chess board, which chess piece is located on space G8?"
I'm not sure if it was the orgasms, the unfairness of this trial, or the commander's ugly-ass face, but I suddenly lost all interest in complying. I was done. Once I answered these questions, they'd probably just up my next set to six minutes and go again. At some point enough was enough. And I had officially had enough.
Panting deeply, I simply stared back at the commander in silence.
"Which chess piece is on G8?" he repeated, lifting his gaze from his clipboard.
I said nothing. I knew the answer the answer was a knight. But I had officially reached my limit. I was done with this shit.
Another orgasm hit me, causing my body to convulse. But my rage allowed me to keep my eyes focused steadily on the commander and maintain my glare. For the next ten seconds, nothing happened. Everyone behind the window simply stared at me as I doubled down on my new vow of silence.
"Last chance, Sergeant," the commander said. "The chess piece."
I'm not sure what prompted my next reply, but it came out of me without thought or premeditation.
"Hun," I said softly through gritted. Nobody reacted.
"Come again?" the commander asked.
Taking a deep breath, I shrieked, "I said HUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!!!"
All of the suddenly, the sybian turned off. My chest heaved up and down as I remained glaring at the commanders through the window. The moment the sybian had fallen silent, a sense of regret began to wash over me. I had failed. My temper had gotten the better of me and caused me to fail my trial. Months of hard work and dedication had been wasted. As angry as I was with the commanders, it suddenly paled in comparison to the anger I had for myself. How could I have done that?
But after what felt like an eternity of silence, something odd happened. I saw something that I'd never actually witnessed before. Hersh's lips had curled upward into what looked like a faint smile. The sight was quite frankly unseemly. General Hersh was smiling...
Hersh suddenly leaned forward to speak into his mic. "You have successfully completed your trial," he said in his growly voice. "Best of luck out there, Brandy Michaels."
I was speechless. I had passed my trial. Not by answering the questions correctly, but by refusing to answer them altogether... Just as Corporal Leonard Hersh had done all those years ago in a Vietnamese prison. My training was complete. I may not have been the frontrunner of the group, but Hersh believed that I was ready. And that was good enough for me. My next stop: the hellhole affectionately known as the Kingdom...
Chapter 12 - Peach (added: 2020/01/06)
I woke up to the sound of loud fast-paced beeping. I blinked and groggily looked around. I was in Katie's room at the health clinic, seated in the padded armchair next to her bed. I glanced up toward the health monitor to my right that was emitting the loud beeping. Flashing in red at the top of the screen was the word "ALERT" and a horizontal red line scrolled across the middle of the screen next to a symbol of a crossed-out heart.
I jolted upright in my chair and turned toward the bed where Katie was laying. But she wasn't there... "Katie?" I called out, sounding more frantic that I'd intended to. I jumped up and looked on the floor next to the bed, making sure she hadn't fallen out.
Just then, the beeping seized. I glanced back toward the monitor to see that the horizontal red line had turned back into a spiky green one that resembled a working heartbeat. Then, to my left, the bathroom door swung open and Katie stepped forward in her hospital gown, pulling a mobile medical trolley behind her. An IV was attached to her arm and oxygen tubes hung from her nostrils.
"I'm here. I'm okay," she said smiling. I smiled back, sighing in relief to see that she wasn't dying. Even dressed in a hospital gown, with no make-up, and with tubes sticking out of her nose, Katie still looked adorable.
"I heard the beeping and... got nervous," I explained, suddenly feeling a bit foolish.
"Sorry, my heart-rate thing fell off when I was in the bathroom," Katie explained, holding up her finger that sported a plastic sleeve. "Back in business, now," she added with a smile.
"How're you feeling?" I asked.
"I'm good," Katie answered, trying to look casual as she crossed the room toward me. I cocked my eyebrow at her skeptically. "Honestly," she chuckled. "I'm just ready to get out of here."
"I bet you are," I replied. "So, has anyone given you an update? Told you when you'll be able to check out?"
"Um, I'm not sure," she answered. "The doctor's supposed to stop by again soon."
"And did anyone tell you what's happening? I mean... after you check out?" I pressed awkwardly, unsure if she'd been made aware of that fact that she'd be moving in with me.
"You mean, about you having temporary custody?" Katie asked, her face suddenly looking flushed. I nodded, trying to pretend as if the idea of having custody over a grown woman didn't weird me out. "Yes," she replied, smiling. "They explained it all to me while you were sleeping. I really can't tell you how much I appreciate it."
"Please," I said, shaking my head dismissively. "I'm the one in your debt." Katie blushed, looking down at her legs. "Had it not been for you, I'd be spending the next several weeks in the kennel." I reached forward and grabbed her hand. "I won't let you go back to Murphy," I assured her. "I promise."
"Thanks," Katie said quietly, seemingly holding back tears of relief.
I couldn't imagine what she'd gone through over the past 48 hours. Between the kennel, the auction block, Murphy's apartment, and now the emergency health clinic, she'd certainly been through hell.
"And don't worry," I joked. "I'm not a fan of peaches, so you don't have to worry about ending up back here."
Katie laughed, looking down sheepishly at her feet.
Just then, there was a knock at the door, causing both of us to turn our heads. A middle-aged man in a white doctor's jacket stepped into the room.
"Hello again," he said pleasantly.
"Hi," Katie replied, making her way back to her bed.
"Hi, there," he said, looking at me. "I'm Doctor Scott, the primary physician here."
"Um, I'm Jodie," I said awkwardly. "A... friend."
"Nice to meet you," he replied. "How're you feeling, Katie? You look better!"
"I'm good," Katie replied, as she got situated back onto her bed. "Really good, actually."
Katie appeared to have turned the enthusiasm dial up to an 11. I guessed this was in an effort to convince the doctor that she was ready to be released. The poor girl clearly wanted to get out of here.
"Well, I'm glad to hear it," the doctor replied as he put rubber gloves on. "After the morning you've had, I would've settled for just regular good." He stepped over to her and pressed his hands against the sides of her throat. "Looks like the swelling's gone down. That's good. Any tingling or itchiness?"
"No," Katie replied.
"How's your appetite?" he asked
"Um," Katie answered, "I didn't each lunch, but I'm still not very hungry yet."
It wasn't until she mentioned the word lunch that I realized how famished I was. I glanced up at the clock on the wall, which read 4:07. Shit, I thought. No wonder I was so hungry! I hadn't eaten today...
"I'm sure your appetite will return once we wean you off the saline drip," he said as he pressed a stethoscope against her upper chest. "Take a deep breath for me." Katie did as he asked. "Hold... aaand exhale... Good. Any tightness in the chest?"
"Nope," Katie responded.
"Open up for me?" the doctor asked, as he pulled a small flashlight out his pocket. Katie said 'aaah' as the doctor shined the light into her mouth. "Everything looks good," he mused. "I think we can lose the oxygen and start to wean you off of your IV."
Katie didn't have to be told twice. She immediately reached up and pulled the rubber tubes out of her nostrils, causing her face to contort in discomfort. The doctor took the tubes from her and hung them from a hook on the medical trolley next to her. Then, he adjusted a mechanism at the bottom of her IV drip.
"Alright, Katie," the doctor said, removing his rubber gloves. "Your appetite should return shortly and then we'll reevaluate how you feel after dinner."
Katie's face suddenly fell. "After dinner?" she asked, clearly disappointment. "So, I have to stay here longer?"
"I'm afraid so," the doctor replied apologetically. "For severe allergic reactions like yours, I typically recommend a minimum of twelve hours medical supervision."
Katie sighed in disappointment, slouching her shoulders forward.
"So, when exactly will that be?" I asked, filling in for Katie.
"Let's see," the doctor mumbled, grabbing the clipboard at the foot of the hospital bed. "Twelve hours from the time you checked in would be... around 7 o'clock tonight."
Katie looked down at her legs, clearly disappointed by the news.
"Well, Katie, if you need anything, don't hesitate to press the call-button and a nurse will come running," the doctor said. Katie gave him a polite smile. "And Jodie, it was nice to meet you."
"Likewise," I responded. I turned my attention back to Katie as the doctor exited the room and closed the door behind him. "Hey-" I said, leaning toward Katie, causing her to meet my gaze. "Chin up, peach," I said playfully. "It's okay if I call you peach, isn't it?"
Katie's mouth curled into a smile. "I'm in your custody now, so you can call me whatever you'd like," she replied.
"Peach it is, then," I chuckled. "I'll hang out with you til it's time to go. Three hours'll fly by."
"Oh no-" Katie responded, straightening up again. "You've already given so much of your day. I'm just being a baby. I'll be fine."
"It's really no problem," I countered.
"I know," Katie replied. "And I really appreciate you offering. Like... more than you know. But I feel terrible keeping you any longer than I already have. Plus, you have to be starving. I insist you go get something to eat."
I was extremely hungry, having napped straight through lunch.
"Alright, I get the hint. You'd like some alone time," I replied sarcastically.
Katie's eyebrows rose apologetically. "You know that's not true," she answered.
"Just teasing," I reassured her playfully.
Katie smiled back, her face once again looking flushed.
"You do raise a good point, though," I continued, standing to my feet. "I'm frickin' starving." I crossed back over to the armchair I had napped in earlier and grabbed my phone. "Do you want me to bring back anything back for you while I'm out?" I asked. "Any other food allergies I should be aware of?
Katie shook her head smiling. "I'm good, thanks," she answered.
"Suit yourself," I replied bluntly. "Get some rest and I'll be back later."
"Yes ma'am," Katie replied.
I flashed a peace sign to her before exiting the room. Halfway down the hall I was still smiling. I was surprised by how upbeat I felt. I had just woken up from a marathon nap, but I'd be naïve to accredit my mood to anything but Katie. The idea of having her around was... nice.
Exiting the health clinic, I made a b-line to Sally's BBQ. Speed walking down Centre Street, I was salivating just thinking about my order. To my good fortune, I arrived to a nearly empty restaurant where my order was promptly taken and prepared. I don't recall much from the next several minutes on account of the food that had monopolized my focus. I was in barbecue heaven.
About halfway through my sandwich, I felt my phone buzz. Wiping the barbecue sauce off my hand, I pulled my phone out of my pocked. At the top of my screen was a drop-down notification from the Kingdom app. As I read what it said, I nearly fell out of my chair in fear. It read-
Message from 01:
ALISON ROOK, DO NOT RESPOND. DO NOT REACT. YOU ARE BEING WATCHED.
Instantly overcome with dread, I gasped and dropped my phone, causing it to land loudly on the wooden table. Blood rushed to my face and I could suddenly feel heart beat between my ears. The message used my real name! Not Jodie O'Connell! Alison Rook! Whoever had written me knew my true identity!
In an impromptu attempt to look unsuspicious to any onlookers, I quickly pretended to swat an imaginary bug off my phone and then the table. I held my breath, silently hoping that my performance was convincing enough for whomever may have been "watching"...
My hand trembled as I picked up my phone and cautiously tapped the notification containing the message. The Kingdom app suddenly opened and the message expanded to fill the entire screen. Only... it was no longer the same message... The message had become garbled and now read:
DÔöð% ˽îh-0¹
h4Ð΢ #ö‹æå¨Tþq; gOÒ'Vµ¢" A•³®²ué VmÞ½¸‹½¹âÙµ Å¢ñìða¦ ÔZ "ªaˆ ÅA¤ ÈàÌ=uËí®êf
I stared at the screen in confusion for several seconds. What the hell? With my heart pounding out of my chest, I worked up the courage to send a reply, despite the specific instruction not to.
Who is this???
No sooner did I press the "send" button, the app instantly crashed, returning me to my home screen. I blinked in silence. Shit, what did I do? After a few seconds, I felt my phone buzz as another notification dropped down from the top of my screen. It read-
Message from 01:
I REPEAT- DO NOT REPLY. OUTGOING COMMUNICATIONS FROM YOUR DEVICE ARE NOT SECURE. WE NEED TO...
Swipe down to read more
I swiped down to reveal the rest of the message.
...SPEAK IN PRIVATE. YOU ARE IN DANGER. SWIPE UP TO CLEAR EACH OF THESE MESSAGES.
I hesitated before tentatively swiping up on the notification. I hated the idea of complying with the demands of this stranger. But despite my distrust, I had few alternatives. Whoever was messaging me new my name...
Message from 01:
ONCE YOU HAVE FINISHED YOUR MEAL, EXIT THE RESTAURANT AND ENTER THE...
Swipe down to read more
I swiped down.
...APOTHECARY DIRECTLY ACROSS THE STREET. INSIDE, LOCATE AND PURCHASE 1 ULTRASONIC PEST REPELLENT AND 1 INSULATED COOLER BAG. ONCE THIS IS COMPLETE, EXIT THE SHOP AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS.
My whole body was trembling. Whoever was writing me had a clear view of me! I hated my privacy being so violated. Willing myself to appear casual, I did as the message instructed- I cleared the message and preceded to calmly take another bite of my sandwich.
Despite how hunger I had been, my appetite was completely gone. Leaving the rest of my sandwich uneaten, I used a napkin to clean my hands and mouth. Be casual, be casual, I thought to myself as I stood and exited the restaurant into the blinding sun.
Now hyper-paranoid, I felt as if all eyes were on me. Taking deep breaths, I crossed the street and entered the Apothecary. The Apothecary was basically the Kingdom's version of Walgreens. It didn't take me long to locate the items on my list. I couldn't fathom why I was being instructed to purchase ultrasonic pest repellent and insulated cooler bag, but I dutifully obliged. In my continued attempts to appear natural, I collected several additional items like conditioner, hair ties, and other hygiene products.
Once I exited the building, I pulled out my phone to see a new drop-down notification waiting for me. It read:
Message from 01:
NOW, MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE SYCAMORE MARKET AND PICK OUT SEVERAL ITEMS OF CLOTHING. LOCATED IN...
Swipe down to read more
...THE BACK RIGHT-HAND CORNER OF THE BUILDING IS A BDSM HEADWEAR SECTION. LOCATE A RED BOX MARKED WITH A GREEN STICKER AND TAKE ALL ITEMS TO THE FITTING ROOM TO YOUR IMMEDIATE LEFT. ONCE INSIDE, LOCK THE DOOR AND PLUG THE ULTRASONIC PEST REPELLENT INTO THE WALL OUTLET.
I read the message twice before swiping up to clear the notification. I had no idea where all of this was going, but I dutifully made my way to the market. At the Renn Faire, Sycamore Market was a sort of outlet store operated by over a dozen different vendors. Here, guests were able to buy and trade everything from Renaissance period clothing, relics, incents, and weaponry. I shuddered to imagine what it was being used for in the off-season...
I didn't have to imagine very long. After a short walk, I arrived to the large barn-like building. As I stepped inside, the first difference I noticed was the obnoxiously loud scream-o music blaring over the speaker system. Quite the contrast from the pleasant pan-flute background tracks that were commonly heard during the Faire season. And instead of handcrafted renaissance-style garments and accessories, the aisles, racks, and tables were now filled with slutty latex outfits and sex toys.
In front of me stood a fat male employee wearing a toupee. Turning away from the latex-clad manikin he was adjusting, he gave a disingenuous smile and greeted me.
"Welcome to Sycamore Market," he said in a monotone voice. "Can I help you find anything today?"
"Nope," I replied bluntly, making my way past him.
As I made my way through the aisles, I continued to fight off the peculiar feeling that I was being watched... I casually glanced around but found nothing particularly suspicious. The market was surprisingly empty. Emptier than it usually was during the regular season, anyway. In fact, from what I could tell, the market's customers appeared to be outnumbered by the manikins that displayed the merchandise.
Attempting to appear casual, I perused the market for a few minutes, and eventually grabbed a random slutty outfit from off a rack. Eventually, I made my way to the back corner of the market where dozens of manikin heads showcased various latex and leather hoods. I began searching through the items on the rack for a red box marked with a green sticker. After about a minute of digging, I managed to find it buried deep on the bottom shelf. The text on the box read Unisex Inflatable Latex Hood.
All items now in hand, I made my way to the fitting room to my left. As I extended my hand toward the handle, the door suddenly swung open and a middle-aged man exited, pulling behind a curvy naked Latino woman by the leash. In his free hand, he carried what looked like belt harness outfits.
Avoiding eye contact, I entered the fitting room and locked the door behind me. The obnoxiously loud scream-o music blared down from a speaker handing directly above. Dropping everything to the floor, I began rooting through my bag for the ultrasonic pest repellent. Ripping it from its plastic packaging, I quickly plugged it into the wall outlet as instructed. Next, I pulled out my phone to retrieve my next instructions. Surely enough, another notification was ready and waiting for me.
Message from 01:
REMOVE ALL OF YOUR CLOTHING AND STOW IN THE INSULATED COOLER BAG. ONCE THE BAG IS SEALED...
Swipe down to read more
...OPEN THE RED BOX AND PUT THE LATEX HOOD ON YOUR HEAD. INFLATE TO FULL CAPACITY WITH THE CONNECTED SQUEEZE PUMP.
I stared at the phone, reading and rereading the instructions in disbelief. "Bullshit," I muttered to myself, shaking my head. This complete stranger seriously expected me to strip down naked and lock my head in a fucking blow-up hood?
I continued stubbornly staring at my phone's screen, silently willing my correspondent to send me an alternative. After a long pause, I finally cleared the notification and began furiously undressing. I hated how accustomed I'd become to acting against my better judgment. This place had a way of getting me to comply with directives I'd have never previously considered going along...
Moments later, I was completely naked and cursing under my breath as I shoved all of my clothes into my insulated bag. Once I zipped the top closed, I sat down on the chair and pulled the black latex hood from its box. For the life of me, I couldn't fathom what the reason was for any of this. But the bastard knew my name. So, for now, I had to play his game...
Exhaling one last sigh of frustration, I lifted the hood up to my head and began pulling it over my head, submerging myself in total darkness. To my surprise, the inside of the latex hood was lined with soft silk-like fabric, allowing it to slide easily across my skin.
Once it made its way past my chin, I began squeezing the attached hand pump, inflating the balloon around my head. With each pump, I felt increased pressure on my face and neck. After about a minute, squeezing the pump had gotten significantly harder. I raised my other hand to my head, feeling what was now a large round latex balloon.
Just then, I nearly leapt out of my skin in shock as a male voice spoke into my ears, "Rook, do you copy?" Knocking my chair to the floor, I frantically backed against the mirrored wall behind me.
"Holy shit, who's there?!" I shrieked. Despite the pressure of the hood against my face, I was still somehow able to speak intelligibly.
"Easy," the voice said calmly. "Your hood is equipped with a secure two-way radio. We're alone."
"Who the hell is this?!" I demanded forcefully.
"First thing's first," the voice replied. "If we're going to talk, I need for you to remain calm and quiet."
Calm and quiet? "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" I blurted out in outrage.
The voice interjected, "Your hood will muffle your voice, but only if you speak at a volume of 65 decibels or lower. Speak louder than that and you risk being overheard. You've managed to capture the attention of some very dangerous people. It is imperative that those people do not overhear this conversation..."
"Tell me who I'm talking to, or this conversation is over," I replied in a soft but stern voice.
"I'm a special forces operator in a highly classified covert operation," the voice answered
"That doesn't answer my question-" I countered.
"I'm U.S. military, ma'am," the voice interrupted.
"Right," I replied shortly in disbelief. "Got a name, soldier?"
"My codename is Alpha."
"Yeah- I'm not calling you that," I replied bluntly.
"Look," the voice said, sounding irritated. "There are dangerous forces at play. You'd be wise to hear me out."
"And why should I trust you?" I challenged. "For all I know, this could be some kind of set-up."
"If anyone in Kingdom management had discovered your identity as I have, you'd already have been taken into custody," he replied bluntly. "And they certainly wouldn't have gone to such lengths to this meeting secret."
"Lengths?" I challenged.
"The ultrasonic pest repellent you plugged in emits a high-pitch frequency that should impair any nearby listening devices," the voice explained, his words rolling quickly off his tongue. "The insulated bag you placed all of your belongings in will block electrical signals from any devices that may have been planted on your person. And the hood you're wearing will shield your voice from all non-electric forms of surveillance. Like I said, so long as your volume remains below 65 decibels, this conversation should be completely private."
I paused, considering his words. While my natural instinct was to remain skeptical, I couldn't help but feel impressed. He really did appear to have all of his bases covered. It was hard to imagine bullshitting such an elaborate cover story. But as legitimate as his explanation seemed, I'd lost a great deal of good will towards strangers over the last several days. After all I'd been through, I had no choice but to be distrustful. From this point forward, it was best to just assume that everyone was an enemy...
Growing impatient, I decided to break the silence. "So, you've got me in private," I said. "Spill it. What did you want with me?"
"Aside from warning you of the surveillance detail that's been planted on you," he explained, "I need to discuss the suitcase that was delivered to your suite. I assume you still have it?"
"Aaand there it is," I interjected. "You know, you almost had me with the whole Kyle Reese act until you brought up the suitcase."
"Excuse me?" the voice asked.
"The last person who mentioned a suitcase literally tried to kill me for it," I added. The voice didn't reply. "You may know her, actually! Brandy Michaels? Ever heard of her? Or perhaps you know her by her codename. Delta... something foxtrot. Ring any bells?"
The voice on the other end remained silent.
"Bueller?" I pressed antagonistically.
"Look, whatever may have happened before," the voice explained, "-it's critical that the suitcase be safely recovered."
"Oh yeah?" I challenged. "And why might that be?"
"I'm unable to disclose any further details," the voice answered cryptically.
"Horse shit," I spat.
"For your own safety, the details of our operation have to remain classified," the voice replied in a forceful voice.
"Our?" I dug. There was silence on the other end. "So how many are there in your little squad?"
"I'm not at liberty to say," the voice replied.
"I assume Brandy was one of them, so there's at least two of you," I deduced. The voice remained silent. "Come on," I prodded. "Don't pretend like you don't know her. You both have codenames from the NATO phonetic alphabet for fuck's sake. The bitch tried to kill me. The least you can do is have the balls to explain why."
The voice hesitated before replying, "Foxtrot had no intention of killing you."
"Oh really?" I shot back. "She could've fooled me as I suffocated beneath her elbow."
"I won't defend her behavior," he replied, his tone sounding almost remorseful. "What she did to you was wrong-"
"Gee- thanks, captain obvious," I replied snarkily. "I'm not asking for validation. I want to know why!"
"All I can tell you," the voice explained in a restrained voice. "-is that the operation's success is contingent upon the recovery of the suitcase-"
"Well, so long as she did it for the operation then she was justi-" I retorted, sarcastically.
"I'm not trying to justify her actions," the voice interrupted. "I've already stated that she was wrong. I'm just trying to explain her motivation."
"Well, as convincing as this good cop routine is, if you're not gonna explain what the hell is going on, I'm gonna sign off," I stated definitively.
I heard a long sigh on his end. I could tell he was growing frustrated. "There are a lot lives at stake," he said.
I didn't say anything. For the first time in this conversation, my interest had been peaked...
"Over 200 lives to be exact," he added. His voice now sounded tired and more defeated. "All of whom are women in who, unbeknownst to them, are being recruited into a human smuggling ring." My heart suddenly dropped to the bottom of my chest. "Three months here will seem like a cakewalk compared to the lifetime of sexual slavery that awaits them..."
I no longer felt the urge to issue a snappy comeback. This new disturbing development was definitely unexpected...
"Everything depends of the safe recovery of that suitcase," he added. "The tools we need to save these women and bring these monsters to justice are inside. For every second it's out of my possession, the less chance of success this operation has of succeeding..."
This story had just taken a turn for the terrifying. If this guy was telling the truth, then I was essentially dooming hundreds of women by refusing to help him... Too overwhelmed to speak, I remained silent.
The compassionate side of me wanted to hand over the suitcase and be done. But if this was actually an elaborate scheme to entrap me, I could end up being held responsible for the suitcase and its unknown contents... In all likelihood, I'd be thrown back in the kennel so fast my head would spin. And this time, there'd be no Katie to save me...
"I... don't have it." I replied, instantly feeling ashamed of myself. While, it wasn't technically untrue, I still felt like a piece of shit. As far as I knew, the suitcase was still in Laura's cubicle at the Trading Post with all of my other belongings. There was a long pause where nobody said anything. I held my breath as I silently waited for a reply.
"Under the circumstances, I understand your distrust," he finally answered, passively calling out my bluff. "I can't blame you for being skeptical after what you've been through. If you can find it in yourself to keep this conversation between the two of us, I'll simply need to find another way to gain your trust."
I felt a large lump form in the back of my throat. Of all the tough choices I'd made over the last week, this one was heavy. I silently prayed I was making the right decision...
"In the meantime, please listen carefully to my next instructions," the voice said urgently. "The information I'm about to give you is of utmost importance. Are you ready?"
"Yes," I said softly.
"Okay," he replied. "First things first- purchase the hood that you're wearing. If anyone were to discover the COM device inside, it could expose the operation and put you at risk. Buy the hood and take it with you. In short order, I'll send you instructions for how to destroy it. Keep your phone charged and in your possession at all times. As I said before, do not attempt to respond to my messages, as outgoing signals are not secure. Simply swipe up to clear each notification once it's been read and dedicated to memory."
I hung on each of his words, sensing the gravity in his voice.
"Trust no one," he added. "Assume that everyone is an unfriendly and that there are eyes and ears everywhere. Be mindful of anyone wearing a red probation collar. Red collars are different from black ones, in that they're equipped with an audio transmitter. Everything spoken within earshot will be used against you."
The more Alpha spoke, the more I found myself believing him. If he was bluffing, then he'd crafted himself a remarkably convincing script...
"And most importantly," he concluded, "-keep the suitcase hidden wherever it currently is. That suitcase is the key to everything. Without it, the operation has zero chance of success..."
I remained silent, neither confirming nor denying that I was moved by any of this.
"I'll be in touch. Keep your phone on," he said. And then, I heard a click.
I stood still for several seconds, listening to the sound of my heartbeat pounding loudly in my ears. Once I'd given myself some time to process everything that I'd heard, I reached up and found the squeeze pump of my inflatable hood. I twisted the metal dial at its base, allowing for the air to release. After a few seconds, the pressure had been released from my face and ears, allowing me to pull the hood off my head.
The cool air felt wonderful against my hot and sticky face. The scream-o music blaring from the speaker above could once again be heard and I blinked several times as my eyes adjusted to the bright florescent light. But as soon as my eyes came into focus, I let out a shriek and leapt backward, colliding with the mirrored wall behind me. Standing in front of me in the doorway of the dressing room was the fat employee with the toupee.
"What the Fuck?!" I yelled, covering my naked body as best I could with my hands.
"You've been in here for like... ten minutes," he replied. "Others are waiting to use the fitting room."
"So, you just let yourself in?!" I responded loudly. "Ever hear of knocking?"
"I have been knocking," he replied.
"Well close the door so I can get my clothes back on!" I responded. He raised his hands defensively and closed the door.
What the hell was wrong with this place?! I thought, exhaling in disbelief. I unzipped the bag that I'd stowed all of my clothes in and quickly got dressed. Half a minute later, I stormed out of the fitting room, my belongings and hood in tow.
Wanting to leave this place as quickly as possible, I scanned the market for a register to pay at. During the regular faire season, each vendor checked customers out from their own station. Now, however, there seemed to be a unified checkout at the front of the market. As I made my way closer, I groaned at the sight of the line of customers waiting to pay.
I bounced impatiently on the balls of my feet as I joined the line. Only one register appeared to be open and the cashier appeared to be in no hurry as she chitchatted with her customers.
Letting out a long sigh, I pulled out my phone again to see if the man called Alpha had written. Nothing. Between our unnerving conversation and my naked confrontation with the fat employee, I was understandably a little on edge...
But just as soon as I'd regained my composure, I jumped in surprise by sudden movement to my left. The black latex-clad manikin next to me had suddenly started twitching and violently shaking. From it's hooded head emitted a high-pitched muffled squeal...
Having been caught off-guard, I backed frantically away from the figure. It took me a few seconds connect the dots for what I was looking at. The manikin wasn't a manikin... It was a real person!
The busty cat-suited figure in front of me was seated on a stool with her legs together on one side. One of her hands rested manikin-like on her hip and the other on the armrest of the stool. My jaw dropped as I saw her chest rapidly rising up and down. A platinum blonde ponytail swayed back and forth from the hole in her hood as the wearer's head shook back and forth in apparent protest.
Horrified, I could do nothing but stare. Her gloved fists were clenched into balls and I could see her leg muscles bulging through her cat suit. Tilting my head to the side, I was able to make out a steel-pipe frame behind her. The pipes mimicked her body and limb position and appeared to be secured to each of her joints by hidden straps. The stool itself was bolted to the floor, keeping her upright and balanced.
After a few seconds of gaping in horror, I realized that the pathetic squealing noises were not only hers. The entire store had been filled with the chilling chorus of muffled squeals and groans. Spinning slowly around, I saw what looked to be nearly a dozen hooded and latex-clad women in various manikin positions, twitching and squirming in their otherwise frozen states. As their audible expressions of discomfort continued, laughter and taunts could be heard from the male customers in the store.
After roughly 30 seconds, all of the manikins collectively relaxed and stopped making noise.
"What the hell-" I whispered, stepping hesitantly back toward the manikin. As I approached, I noticed an electric e-reader-style plaque located in front of her. Leaning in, I read the fine print.
Thank you for visiting Sycamore Market! My name is Vicki and I'm employed through the Kingdom's residency program. The outfit I'm wearing is:
Mytex G-Suit: Full-Enclosure PVC Body Suit
Size Medium
Available in Black, Red, and White
Please feel free to touch and tease me. I promise I won't/can't bite ;)
Beneath the e-reader plaque was a laminated piece of paper that read:
DISCLAIMER: Each manikin is equipped with a vibrating dildo, anal spreading pear plug, and TENS patches over each nipple. With each purchase made, all vibrating dildos will be remotely activated, anal plugs will temporarily expand by 30%, and the TENS patches will receive electric stimulation. The duration of these stimulants will depend upon the dollar amount spent.
$1 - $49.........................15 seconds
$50 - $100.....................45 seconds
$100+...........................3 minutes
Thank you for shopping at Sycamore Market! Enjoy!
My jaw hung incredulously for several seconds after I finished reading. I looked back up at the manikin who had since unclenched her fists and appeared to be more at peace than she was a few seconds earlier. Shit, this place just kept getting more and more fucked up!
"I can take the next customer over here," said a low voice, snapping me out of my thoughts. The fat employee with the toupee who had barged in on me naked was gesturing to the man in front of me in line.
"Uh, actually- you can go ahead of me," the man said to me, as he dug through his shopping basket for something. Great, I thought. I get to see the fat guy again.
I approached the counter with a furrowed brow, determined to make my displeasure toward the employee known. Without saying anything, I slid the boxed hood across the counter. The employee avoided eye contact and scanned the barcode.
"That'll be... seventy-nine, fifty," he said in his stupid monotone voice.
Impatiently, I swiped my key card through the card reader. As soon as the sale went through, I heard a chorus of muffled high-pitched shrieks and squeals throughout the market. Predictably, this was followed by the sound of more laughter and applause from the male customers. I rolled my eyes in disgust at my involuntary contribution to this sick fuckery. The fat toupee guy hesitated before handing me my receipt.
"Okay- I have to ask," he said after some apparent contemplation. "Were you seriously just standing naked in the fitting room talking to yourself in a sensory deprivation hood?"
I glared back at him. "So what if I was?" I spat.
He stared at me silently for several seconds, before following up with- "...Why?"
"Why are you wearing a fucking beaver carcass on your head?" I countered childishly, nodding to his toupee. "Mind your damn business." I snatched the box and receipt from his hand and stormed out of the building.
I really was starting to loathe this place... I never could have imagined hating the faire that Uncle Henry and I had poured our hearts and souls into. Seeing it repurposed into a pervy sex retreat was bad enough. But learning that it might also be a hub for sex trafficking was downright nauseating. And if Alpha was telling the truth, I now had to worry about spies watching my every move...
I needed a place to sit and think. But I couldn't just "sit and think". If unfriendly eyes were actually watching me, I needed to sit and think in such a way that appeared to be natural. Otherwise, I'd risk drawing suspicion, which would only reinforce their interest in spying on me... Damn, my life had gotten complicated.
So, I decided to do what any other stressed out millennial would do. I made my way toward the nearest coffee house. Hopefully, the Olde Java Joint was still a thing.
As I rounded the corner of Centre Street and Crown, I sighed in relief to see that the coffee house still in business. I entered through the swinging doors and joined the back of the long line. Feeling my phone buzz, I pulled it out to see a new notification waiting for me at the top of my screen.
Message from 01:
TO DESTROY HOOD, RUN THROUGH A CYCLE IN THE SUITE'S WASHER/DRYER.
I swiped up and shoved my phone back in my pocket, staring emotionless at the back of the customer in front of me. After an obnoxiously long wait in line, I finally got my salted caramel latté and plopped myself down at an unoccupied chair and table in the outside patio area. I sat silently, sipping slowly at my tall mug of caffeine.
Despite my best efforts, I couldn't stop replaying my conversation with Alpha in my head. The implications of his words weighed on me like a ton of bricks. The last time I'd felt this uncertain and conflicted was when I was contemplating signing Notts' Faire over to Becca. But this felt so much worse. If Alpha was actually genuine, it meant that hundreds of women's lives literally depended on me... Not their livelihoods. Their lives.
I wanted to run away as fast as I could. March up to the exit, turn in my keycard, forget my million-dollar prize, and just leave. But no sooner did I consider this, I remembered Katie. Leaving now would mean that Katie would remain behind as Murphy's slave. The thought of her being abused by his machines day in and day out was not something I could live with. There was no way I could leave her to that kind of fate for three months.
But it wasn't purely my sense of obligation that kept me from fleeing this place. Staying behind for Katie did have its upsides. Despite Alpha's warnings not to trust anyone, the idea of Katie moving in was still exciting... The thought her company actually lifted my spirits. This both surprised and scared me. The rational side of my brain told me to heed Alpha's advice and remain isolated. The irrational side, however, longed for someone to unload to and confide in. With Katie sacrificing her job and freedom on my behalf, I couldn't imagine anyone more trustworthy than her.
But beneath all the logic and illogic, there was just something about the thought of the curly-haired brunette that put me at ease... And ease was precisely what I needed right about now.
Suddenly, the sound of chimes echoed from the clock tower in the distance, snapping me out of my daydream. I'd been so lost in thought that I hadn't realized how late it had gotten. What time was it?
I pulled out my phone to see that it was 7:00pm. Holy shit. It was 7 o'clock already? Leaving my empty mug on the table I hopped up and briskly exited the café patio. Given how eager Katie had been earlier, I could only imagine how ready she was check out.
Speed-walking down the street toward the health clinic, I weaved through the hoards of pedestrians like a pro. As typical at this hour, Centre Street was packed and bustling.
It was a relief to finally step into the health clinic and escape the crowds and noise.
"Jodie," I heard my name called off to my right.
I turned to see a smiling Katie stand up from a seat in the waiting area. She was accompanied by a tall security guard holding a clipboard. She looked adorable as always, wearing the same outfit that she had worn when we first met in the underground train station. A maroon polo shirt, khaki pants, and glasses. But it was her newest accessory that caused me to momentarily lose my breath. Instead of the choker collar and employee nametag that she'd worn before, she now sported a red collar. Keyword: red...
I gulped as I forced a smile. If Alpha's warnings were accurate, it meant that red collars were equipped with a listening device. Katie had essentially become a walking wiretap...
"Hey there," I said, trying to put it out of mind. "Sorry I'm a bit late."
"No worries," Katie answered pleasantly.
The security guard stepped forward and said, "Before she can be remanded into your custody, I need for you to sign these release forms."
"Oookay," I said, grabbing the clipboard from him. I scanned through the documents, trying my best to speed-read without compromising on comprehension. After about a minute, I finished. "Looks good to me," I concluded, grabbing the pen attached to the top of the clipboard. I signed the bottom of the last sheet and handed the clipboard back to the guard.
"We all good?" I asked.
"Yes ma'am," the guard responded, pulling a card from his pocket. "Here's a spare keycard for Miss Hugh." I reached out and grabbed it. "Once it's been activated through the app, it will operate the same as yours."
"Cool," I replied.
"Have a nice evening," he added before turning to leave.
I looked back over to Katie who flashed a giddy grin. "How you feelin' sicky?" I asked
"I'm good!" Katie replied.
"Let's blow this joint," I said with a wink. She replied with an enthusiastic nod. Someone was clearly excited to leave the health clinic.
As the two of us exited the building, we were met with obnoxiously loud band music from a group of street performers passing by.
"You hungry?!" I shouted over the noise as we walked. "We can grab a pizza or something."
"I'm actually good!" Katie shouted back, leaning in toward me. "I had a pretty big meal not too long ago!"
"Well, I'm hungry!" I responded, smiling. "And I'm in the mood for pizza!"
Katie nodded approvingly. Eager to escape the loud music and congested sidewalk, I grabbed Katie's hand and pulled her quickly through the crowd.
Roughly 15 minutes later, supreme pizza and 6-pack of beer in hand, we headed back to the Castle suite. Once inside, we both let out a collective sigh. It felt like Mardi gras out there!
"Welcome to the castle suite," I said, tossing my bag to the floor. "Welcome back, I should say," I added. "Mi casa es su casa."
"Gracias," Katie replied playfully, placing the pizza and beer on the granite countertop.
"Can I get you anything?" I asked. "And by anything, I mean... a cup of coffee from the Keurig machine? It's the only thing this place is stocked with."
Katie laughed. "I'll think pass for now. But thanks!"
"So..." I began, hesitant about how to address the elephant in the room. "About this whole custody thing..." Katie turned and looked at me, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. "I know what the paperwork said. And I know it's probably hard to ignore the big-ass collar around your neck, but I just want you to know that I'm not... expecting anything... you know?" Katie's mouth opened as if to say something, but couldn't find the words.
I felt a pang of guilt as I spotted what looked to be a brief glimpse of disappointment on Katie's face. I suddenly recalled what Katie had said several days prior when she discovered me bound and hooded on the bed. Believing me to be Brandy, she had expressed how lucky Brandy was to belong to me and how she wished she could swap places. I could feel my own face getting hot as I continued speaking.
"That's to say-" I continued, "I don't want you to feel like you need to... do anything for me. You know? Like- you don't have to... entertain me or... serve me or anything."
"Oh," Katie said, nodding in agreement, but still looking unsure of how to react. "O-okay."
Damn, I wasn't explaining myself well... My efforts to alleviate pressure were clearly not coming across the way I had hoped. My goal was to put her mind at ease. Alleviate any pressure she might have felt to repay me, or to earn her keep. I honestly hadn't considered that she might have been eager to do those very things...
"I just... I don't want you to feel small," I added, now speaking from the heart. I took a beat to compose my thoughts. "There's nothing in the world worse than feeling like a second-class citizen. Like... a lesser person. I just don't want that for you." I could now feel my heart pounding in my ears. Dammit, I really wanted this conversation to be over! I definitely was not what you would call a sharer... "Despite what this place would tell you, you're not an object. You're smart, funny, and beautiful." I gave a reassuring smile. "And whatever you decide to do from point forward, I'm just glad you're here."
A smile spread across Katie's face and she suddenly looked as if she were about to cry. "I'm glad I'm here, too," she replied softly.
"Good," I said smiling, turning away to hide my embarrassed face. "Um, why don't you unwind and take a shower?" I randomly suggested, eager to change the subject. "You've had a stressful last couple of days. A long hot shower might be just the right medicine."
"Um, a shower sounds amazing, actually," Katie replied, chuckling.
"Go for it," I said, with an awkward smile. "Oh-" I interjected, suddenly remembering my purchases from earlier. Stepping back into the foyer, I grabbed the insulated bag off the floor and handed it to her. "I bought some conditioner and other stuff you can help yourself to."
"Oh great. Thanks," Katie said, taking the bag from me before heading to the master bathroom. Before closing the door behind her, she turned back to me and added, "Thank you, Jodie. For everything."
"Don't mention it, Peach," I replied playfully.
Once the door closed, I let out a long sigh and cracked my neck to each side. Hopefully, the awkward portion of this show was behind us. All things considered, I supposed it could have been worse. Nothing about these circumstances was ordinary in the slightest. Society doesn't exactly prepare you for how to make an indentured sex-servant feel welcome in a castle...
But as awkward as it may have been, I was right to say what I said. While I'd be lying if I said I didn't have hopes to get to know her a bit more intimately, the girl had been put through hell over the last couple of days. First and foremost, she needed to understand that she was safe now.
Grabbing the box of pizza and 6-pack of beer, I carried my dinner over to the coffee table in front of the sofa. The next several minutes were not my finest. Having only eaten half of my sandwich earlier, I devoured over half of the pie and two beers like it was nothing. This place gave stress eating a whole new meaning. It was a good thing that Katie was in the shower, because I'm pretty sure she'd have lost all respect she may have had for me if she'd witnessed me stuffing my face.
Once I started slowing down, I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. On the screen showed an information page with upcoming Kingdom events and attractions. Disinterested in anything this place wanted to sell me, I flipped through the 12 available channels. They were the same basic channels that guests received at Notts' Faire, minus the local station. I flipped past the corporate news networks to HGTV, which happened to be my guilty pleasure go-to.
I zoned out for a few minutes until I heard the shower stop. Leaning forward, I cleaned up the coffee table a bit so I wouldn't look like such a slob. After a few minutes, Katie emerged from the steamy room in a bathrobe. Her curly hair was pulled back into a bun, revealing her neckline.
"Don't judge me," I said, straightening up on the sofa as crumbs rolled off of my shirt. "But I only left you three slices." Katie laughed as she walked into the room. "I'm not entirely sure how it happened," I added jokingly.
"No judgment at all," Katie replied, laughing. "This place can create quite an appetite."
"Right?!" I answered.
Katie joined me on the sofa, tucking her feet beneath her. "Ooh, I love Flip or Flop," Katie said. "I'm still bummed out that Tarek and Christina split though."
"Me too!" I exclaimed in agreement, turning to face her. "It totally came out of the blue!"
"Agreed!" Katie replied.
"But part of me thinks it might all be for show, though," I ranted. "If you'll notice, neither one of them seems too heart-broken about it. I feel like this is all heading for a spin-off series that'll make them even more money."
"Maybe," Katie replied suspiciously. "But I also read that Christina was sleeping with their contractor."
"No!" I breathed, leaning forward. "Which contractor?"
"I'm not sure. But I heard there were texts," she answered wit a devious grin.
"Okay," I said, pulling out my phone. "I've gotta look this up."
The two of us continued to gossiping and dishing about everything from celebrities to D&D. Before we knew it, two episodes Flip and Flop had ended and House Hunters International was nearly over. Somehow, despite the unorthodox situation we found ourselves in, things were good. Not even the red probation collar around Katie's neck could stop us from gabbing.
I was in middle of my elaborate fan-theory about the Dr. Strange sequel, when Katie suddenly leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. My eyes shot open widely in shock and the both of us sat frozen on the couch without uttering a sound.
"I'm... sorry," Katie said, inching back slowly as her face instantly turning a bright shade of red. She looked terrified as she brushed a curly strand of hair out of her face. "Let's just... ugh- what were you saying about the seal of the Vishanti?" She asked, clearly trying to reverse the clock.
Overwhelmed from cuteness overload, I quickly leaned in and kissed her back. This one was more passionate and incorporated tongue. I felt a shiver run down my spine as her hands caressed my jawline and neck.
"You don't ever need to apologize for that," I said as I broke away.
"Yes ma'am," Katie replied with a giddy smile.
Straightening up, Katie untied the sash around her waist and allowed her robe to slide off of her shoulders. To my surprise, she was not naked. Instead, she was attired in what looked like a black two-piece catwoman outfit with stitching similar to the style of Michelle Pfeiffer's costume from Batman Returns.
"Wow!" I said, my eyes growing twice their normal size. "Hellooo Selina... Somebody's been reading my secret diary." Katie chuckled as she tossed the robe onto the floor. "Where in the world did this little number come from?" I asked.
Katie cocked her head in confusion. "It was... in the bag that you gave me," she answered hesitantly.
Suddenly, my memory was jogged. It was from Sycamore Market! I'd forgotten to put the outfits back after I'd left the fitting room!
"Oh shit," I said.
"What?" Katie replied, her face suddenly looking concerned.
"I never paid for that!" I whispered. I cracked a guilty smile.
Katie's eyes grew wide. "What? You mean you stole it?" Katie retorted, holding back laughter.
"I didn't mean to!" I countered defensively. "Look, let me explain-"
"I'm seriously learning so much about you right now! Haha!" Katie teased.
"No- I was flustered!" I explained through Katie's cackling.
"It's impressive, really!" Katie chided. "You really took this catwoman, cat-burglar thing to a whole new level!"
"Listen- there was this ass-hole who barged into the fitting room on me naked and... Why are you laughing?!"
"I just can't believe that you're a thief! Hahaha!" Katie exclaimed.
"Ya know what? Screw you, side-kick!" I said, grabbing a side pillow from the sofa and throwing it playfully at her.
"Yes please," she added in a sultry voice. I felt her hands against my waist, sliding upward. Catching her drift, I quickly pulled off my tank top, exposing my breasts.
"Ugh. I'm sorry I kind of smell-" I whispered, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"I don't care," Katie interrupted softly, gently pushing me to lie back on the sofa. Damn, this girl was a spitfire! She hopped forward, straddling my waist and began kissing me harder. I let out a soft moan as I felt her slender fingers fondling my breasts. God, I was horny!
Pulling away from her, I whispered, "Let's move this into the bedroom."
"Yes, ma'am," Katie replied, flashing me a devious grin. I can't say that I was used to being called ma'am, but I definitely didn't hate it. If she ever started calling me mistress, then I think I might be weirded out.
Once we made our way to the bedroom, I stripped out of the rest of my clothes and jumped eagerly onto the bed.
"On or off?" Katie asked pointing to her catwoman outfit.
"Off, of course," I answered jokingly, as if it were a stupid question.
As she removed her clothing, I unwrapped every inch of her with my eyes. This wasn't the first time I'd seen Katie naked, but it felt like a brand new experience. My heartbeat increased with each passing second. Her body was perfect. Not too intimidating, but undeniably sexy. She was petite, but not anorexic. Her breasts were small yet plump. But best of all, was the expression on her face. An adorable blend of giddy, nervous, and hungry.
"Have any requests?" she asked.
"Surprise me," I replied with a grin.
She grinned back and crept up the bed toward me. Gently, she spread my legs with her hands and lowered herself down upon me. I gasped as I felt wet kisses begin to greet my sensitive clit. I gripped the bedspread as I felt her tongue pressing harder against me. Her touch was electric. Shivers coursed through my entire body and my toes curled involuntarily.
In less than a minute, I was a seriously hot mess. This girl was definitely experienced in the art of oral sex. Either that, or I was just incredibly easy to please. Katie even seemed to have a knack for pacing. She worked methodically. Not too fast, definitely not too slow. Yet spontaneous enough to keep my body guessing.
After a few minutes of denial, I finally felt Katie press harder against my pussy. I gripped the covers tighter and arched my back as my body was finally sent into the most intense orgasm I'd ever experienced in my life. I screamed in ecstasy as my muscles spasmed and electrical impulses fired throughout every corner of my brain.
Katie continued working me until my climax came to a full stop. Straightening up, Katie wiped her mouth and looked up at me with a satisfied expression.
"You taste delicious," she said, crawling up the bed to straddle me.
"Holy shit... that was amazing," I answered between labored breaths. "You're... very good at that."
"Thank you," Katie replied. My eyes closed as she began kissing my neck. "So, what now?" she whispered. "Did you steal any toys we can play with?"
Holding back laughter, I responded instead by gripping Katie's shoulders and rolling her over so that I was now on top. "You're lucky I didn't," I replied, grinning down at her.
I grabbed both of Katie's wrists, pulled them over her head, and held them firmly together with my dominant hand. With my other hand, I reached down and began probing her already moist pussy. She bit down on her lower lip as I plunged deeper with my two fingers.
"Oh god," Katie whispered as her eyes rolled back into her head.
"It's okay, you can just call me Jodie," I said teasingly. A distracted smile flashed across Katie's face as I started to probe faster. "Keep your hands where they are," I ordered her as I released her wrists.
"Yes, ma'am," Katie whispered between breaths. She was already panting nearly as hard as I had been before I came. With my now free hand, I started to caress her breast as I slid my body down hers. This new position allowed me to plunge my fingers even deeper inside her. A high-pitched moan escaped her lips and I saw her hands grip the bedspread just as mine had. I could tell she was nearing climax. I eased my advances and slowed my pace, attempting to duplicate her technique from earlier. Katie's hips rocked up and down in an apparent attempt to encourage me to speed up, but I maintained pace. I snickered silently as I saw her fists clench tighter around the covers in frustration.
I continued alternating between slow and fast, deep and shallow and even added a third finger to the mix. This prompted a long gasp followed by another "oh god". I leaned my head down and began sucking her already hard nipple. With my other hand I continued fondling and pinching her other breast. Eventually, I decided to end her torment and go hard for a good 15 seconds. Throwing her head back she howled in ecstasy as an orgasm washed over her. As intense as my climax was, hers appeared even more so. I'd have to take that with a grain of salt though. Katie seemed like just the kind of girl who would air on the dramatic for the sake of her partner's self esteem.
"Oh gawd!" Katie sighed in exhaustion. "That was incredible!"
I chuckled as I rolled over onto my back.
"I'm still shaking," she said, followed by breathy laughter.
"Good," I said, grinning. "So, I'm thinking we should probably make a list."
Katie shot me a confused look.
"Of toys you want me to steal for us tomorrow," I clarified with a smirk.
Katie smiled back, biting her lower lip again. For the next several minutes, we discussed our favorite sex toys, our least favorite sex toys, sex toys we'd always wanted to try, and sex toys we weren't altogether sure had even been invented. Eventually, Katie said something ridiculously cute and adorable and I decided to pounce on top of her and instigate round two.
We lost track of time as our sexapades continued late into the evening. I honestly couldn't remember ever feeling more satisfied from sex. Though the cock was noticeably absent, Katie made up for it in ways that I'd never even considered. By the time she was done with me, there was little to no doubt in my mind- this girl had some serious experience.
Eventually, we tired ourselves out and unwound by spooning underneath the covers
"I think this is gonna work out," I said.
"Definitely," Katie whispered back happily.
"Go ahead and get some sleep," I said. "You've had a long day."
"If you say so," Katie replied, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Jodie." I turned toward her and responded with a long kiss of my own. Smiling, Katie silently rolled over and curled into a tiny ball.
Within minutes, I heard Katie's breathing grow louder, indicating that she'd fallen asleep. I, on the other hand, was wide-awake. Physically exhausted but mentally wired. This was almost certainly on account of the marathon nap I'd taken earlier.
As I leaned over to grab the TV remote from the nightstand, my eye caught the Kingdom handbook sitting beside it. I paused, staring at the thick rulebook that spelled out the dos and don'ts for Kingdom slave-owners... Given the fact that Katie was now in my custody and I actually had an interest in being here, I couldn't help but feel like I should be a bit more educated about things.
I picked up the book and began rereading from the beginning. It was just as brutal of a read as I recalled it being. But every time I found my attention wavering, I found motivation by looking down at the curly-haired brunette drooling on the pillow beside me. Before long, I was over a third of the way through.
I was at the chapter about weight-loss and exercise restrictions when my phone buzzed beside me. Laying the handbook down, I picked up the phone to see a notification at the top of my screen.
Message from 01:
INCOMING MESSAGE. FOR YOUR EYES ONLY. ONCE ALONE, CLEAR NOTIFICATION. URGENT!
I sighed and rolled my eyes. This dude seriously needed to dial it down. I'd just had my first good evening since... damn... I couldn't even recall how long. The last thing I needed was spy drama.
Having no interest in getting out of bed to be alone, I unlocked my phone with Katie still beside me. Immediately upon clearing the notification, a new notification popped up at the top of the screen.
Message from 01:
AT 3:12AM, 4 HOURS PRIOR TO THE TIME ATTRIBUTED TO HER "ALLERGIC REACTION",...
Swipe down to read more
... KATIE HUFF'S PROFILE WAS OFFICIALLY REVISED. ONLY ONE DETAIL WAS CHANGED. TAP THE LINK BELOW AND READ TO THE VERY END.
HTTP://KINGDOM.ARCHIVE/11.5A/HUFF.K/ASPX?ID=%2EPDF&PARENT+%2FPERSONAL/PROFILE.PRO
I instantly felt queasy... Katie's name was honestly the last thing I expected to read in Alpha's message. How did he even know that I knew Katie? Did he know she was here? Why is he interested in her? I leaned my head forward slightly to see if Katie had visibility of the phone. Fortunately, her face was buried in the bedspread.
My finger hovered hesitantly above the link provided until I finally worked up the courage to tap it. Suddenly, the Kingdom app opened, followed by the browser app. After a few seconds, a PDF image loaded, titled "Huff.Katie.11.5A".
I felt my heart pounding faster as I began to scroll through her stats. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary... that is, until I reached the very bottom of her profile. Despite not grasping it's significance, the last line hit me like a ton of bricks. I stared at it for several seconds, unsure of what to make of what I was seeing...
Suddenly, my phone buzzed again, snapping me out of my thoughts. Another notification had suddenly appeared at the top of the screen.
Message from 01:
AS I SAID- TRUST NO ONE.
With a fresh feeling of dread, my eyes returned to the bottom of Katie's profile. The last line read-
Allergies: None
Chapter 13 - Window Shopping(added: 2020/01/06)
The cool morning air gave me goosebumps as I speed-walked down Court Street toward the Inns. Like the morning prior, I seemed to be the only person up at this hour. I hadn't informed Katie that I was leaving, but judging by volume of her snores when I left, I doubted she'd even notice my absence.
I'd hardly slept at all that night. In the hours following Alpha's warning about Katie, my mind ricocheted from one conspiracy theory to the next. Despite our amazing evening together, I was now just as unsettled and anxious as I was before Katie arrived. But even after Alpha's message, my instinct was to trust her. Whatever happened with her profile, Katie just didn't seem like the manipulative type. Quite frankly, it was hard to imagine her even telling a fib without blushing. The more logical explanation was that this was all an administrative mistake and she knew nothing about it.
But to make completely sure, I'd gotten up at the butt-crack of dawn to pay a visit to a... specialist. Stopping in front of room 213 at Inn number 4, I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
Moments later, the Asian girl named June answered the door wearing a skimpy silk nightdress. "Hi Jodie!" She said perkily.
"Hello again," I replied with a forced smile.
"It's good to see you!" she responded, stepping forward and embracing me in a hug. I blinked in surprise, awkwardly returning her random gesture with a pat on the back. June's cheerful demeanor was a sharp contrast to the rebel rouser I'd originally encountered in the woods. The June I'd first met was the stone-cold fighter who'd lunged herself at Eric and given him a bloody nose.
"Likewise," I replied.
"Come in," June said, motioning inside. The room was a pigsty and was littered with laundry and empty food boxes. "Master is on the toilet, but he should be out momentarily," she said. Her emphasis on the word master sounded sarcastic, almost as if she was telling me an inside joke.
"Ulm not on luh hoilet!" I heard Eric's voice call out from the bathroom. Just then, Eric leaned out from the bathroom door, his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. "A'll be light owt!"
"Make yourself at home," June said, clearing a pile of dirty clothes off of the armchair in the corner of the room. "We've got muffins, if you'd like any," she added, gesturing over toward the counter on the opposite wall. "The orange raspberry ones are out of this world."
"I'm good actually. But thanks," I replied courteously, taking a seat. June disappeared into the bathroom and a split second later, Eric exited wearing a tank top, gym shorts, and a bathrobe.
"Jodie O'Connell. Top of the marnin' to ya!" Eric said cheerfully in a terrible Irish accent, tipping an imaginary top hat.
"Nice," I answered dryly. The both of them were far too caffeinated for my tastes this morning...
"So, how's life?" Eric asked, taking a seat on the foot of his bed. "You end up getting a new slave after blondie?"
"I... did," I answered, looking away awkwardly. The words "getting a new slave" didn't jive well with my soul. Being awarded custody wasn't much better, but at least it sounded a bit more consensual.
"No kidding," Eric replied, looking impressed. "Who is she?"
"Um, her name's Katie," I answered, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. Eric continued staring at me with his eyebrows raised, clearly hoping that I'd offer more details. I shook my head dismissively, replying, "It's... complicated," I said. The less Eric knew about my chaotic circumstances the better.
Eric frowned in disappointment. "You're no fun," he conceded. "I guess I'll just add it the to the list of explanations you owe me."
"What explanations do I owe you?" I asked defensively.
"You still haven't told me why you ditched the blonde in the first place," he clarified. "I'm kinda bummed out about that, by the way! I was hoping I'd be able to convince you to swap her out with June for a night," Eric clarified.
"Rude!" I heard June call out from the bathroom.
Eric ignored her and continued, "I've always wanted to know what it's like to dominate someone who could bench-press me." His eyes stared over my shoulder as if imagining his fantasy. There was an awkward silence where neither of us said anything. Eventually, I cleared my throat to snap Eric out of his daydream.
Eric blinked and looked back at me. "So, what's goin' on?" he asked. "Your DM's sounded... vague." It's true. I'd written Eric several times over the night requesting to meet, but refused to elaborate further.
"Yeah," I responded hesitantly. "So, um- I think I remember you telling me that you're a computer guy?"
"Correct," Eric replied, "I run a cyber security company."
"Well, I'm hoping you can take a look at this for me," I said, pulling out my phone and opening the document that Alpha had sent to me earlier. I handed it to Eric. "Does anything stick out to you as abnormal about this?"
Eric furrowed his brow as he examined Katie's profile. "What am I looking for, exactly?" he asked.
"Honestly, I don't know," I replied. "I was hoping you might be able to tell if it was like... forged or something."
"Wait- this isn't the Kingdom app," Eric said, looking confused. After scrolling back to the top, he looked up at me. "How're you viewing this in your browser?"
I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "Why is that significant?"
"It's significant because it means you're accessing the domain," Eric mansplained, bluntly. I saw him tap the refresh button, reloading Katie's profile. "Which raises the obvious question..." he continued, "How did you gain clearance into the Kingdom's domain?"
I blinked, unsure if his question was rhetorical. "I don't know," I answered. "I just clicked a link."
"A link?" Eric asked.
"From... the app," I lied. "Under Katie's name."
Eric returned to the home screen and opened the Kingdom app. Once he found Katie's profile, he scrolled down to the end.
"Well, it's not here anymore," Eric muttered.
"Yeah," I replied. "But what you see there isn't the same as what's in the link."
"How so?" Eric asked, cocking his eyebrow.
"Well, the one from the link says that Katie has no allergies," I explained. "The one that's now on the app says that she's allergic to peaches."
"Hmm," Eric said, clearly deep in thought. "Well, that part doesn't seem odd to me. This place employs hundreds of women. They're bound to make a few clerical slip-ups." He exited the app and returned to the browser. I felt my soul sigh with relief. This was the conclusion that I'd hoped Eric would reach. Hearing him sum the error up as coincidence made my trust in Katie feel considerably less irresponsible. "What I find bizarre, though," he continued, "is how you managed to access what appears like an archived file on what should be a secure domain." He rubbed his chin contemplatively. "There's no reason why you or anyone else should be able to see this... Strikes me as a security red flag."
Standing to his feet, Eric grabbed his phone off his nightstand. "I'm gonna jot down the URL and look into this later." After he finished typing the address into his phone, he handed my phone back to me. "Very odd," he mused to himself. "I'll let you know what I find."
"Thanks," I said, already feeling more relaxed.
Eric stepped over to the counter next to me and grabbed a muffin. "Was that all you needed?" he asked, before taking a big bite of his muffin.
"Um, yeah pretty much," I replied awkwardly. "Actually... no!" I said, remembering my second request. "I know I probably sound paranoid at this point, but... I think I may be getting spied on."
Eric's eyebrows rose. "Hy would oo shay dat?" he asked with a full mouth.
"Um... It's mostly just a feeling, I guess," I lied. "Can't shake the sense that I'm being watched."
Eric gulped down his bite of muffin. "Honestly, I'd be surprised if you weren't being watched," he replied matter-of-factly.
I tilted my head in confusion. "Huh?"
"Well, after your appearance on stage at the auction, people know who you are," he explained. "I'm betting there are some who'd love nothing more than to see you slip up and get a collar slapped around your neck. With you out of the picture, the castle suite could go back on the market."
"That's comforting," I replied sarcastically. Eric's honesty was both off-putting and refreshing. Despite the fact that I sensed he could be annoying, I got the feeling that he was genuine and meant what he said.
"You sounded really good up there, by the way," Eric added. "I dig the Irish accent."
Ignoring his compliment, I shifted back to the topic at hand. "So, more than being physically watched, I'm worried about... surveillance." Eric looked at me thoughtfully as he chewed another bite of muffin. "Like, audio and video. Do you know anything about stuff like that?"
A grin spread across Eric's face. "You've come to the right place," Eric replied before shoving the remainder of the muffin in his mouth. Wiping his fingers on his robe, he turned and walked over to the closet where he pulled out a briefcase. Dropping it on the foot of the bed, he opened its lid to reveal a series of electronic devices.
"I brought ahn anti-turveillance kit wif me," he explained proudly as he swallowed the last bite. "I happen to be pretty paranoid too. Which is why I run a sweep every day. Several times a day, in fact." Eric smiled as he noticed the impressed expression on my face. "I've seen too much to be naïve," he added.
I stood up and approached the briefcase to get a closer look. "What does it do exactly?"
"Well, there are several devices here," Eric explained. "But basically, they scan a room in search of any electronic signals. Most kits only detect radio and infrared-based devices. This finds everything, heat-sensing technology, fiber optics, you name it. And they've all got killer ranges so they can even detect through walls."
"Brilliant," I mused. "How long does it take?"
"A room this size? Less than ten minutes," Eric replied.
"So... what are the odds of me persuading you to... run a sweep at my suite?" I asked.
"Hmm..." Eric replied, stroking an imaginary beard on his chin. "I think I could make that work. For say... unlimited access to your pool?"
"One pool visit," I countered without hesitation. "One sweep for one swim."
Eric squinted contemplatively at me. "You run a hard bargain," Eric answered in a dramatic voice. "Fine," he added, stretching out his hand. When I reached out to shake, he pulled back, suddenly sticking up his index finger. "With the understanding that your suite may need... weekly sweeps," he added.
I smiled, rolling my eyes. "Deal," I said.
Eric grinned and shook my outstretched hand. "So, when were you thinking?" he asked.
"Honestly, if it could be done right away, that'd be great," I answered.
"Like... as in now?" Eric asked, surprised.
"Well, I'd need to figure out a way to get Katie out of the suite first, but yeah," I replied.
"Why?" Eric asked, confused
"She can come to the spa with me," June suddenly interjected as she stepped out of the bathroom.
I hesitated, considering the offer. "Um, yeah. I guess that could work," I replied.
"Why can't she be in the suite?" Eric pressed, looking suspicious.
"Someone told me that probation collars can act as a wiretap," I responded truthfully. "If anyone's listening, I'd rather not advertise what you're doing in my suite."
"She's on probation?!" Eric laughed, completely missing the point. "What'd she do?!"
I rolled my eyes dismissively. "What time are you going to the spa?" I asked over to June.
"Nine," June answered. "And it's a three hour session."
I looked down at my phone which read 7:47am. "That... would be perfect, actually," I said, half to myself.
"It's by appointment only but you can reserve a spot through the app," June added. "It's called Harmony Lodge."
"Wait, back up!" Eric interjected, clearly not wanting to move on. "If you're worried about the Kingdom spying on you, but your slave's already wearing a wiretapped collar, then what's the point of me doing a sweep?"
Letting out a sigh of frustration, I turned to give him my full attention. "I'd like to know the extent to which I'm being spied on," I explained tersely, trying not to let my irritation show. "I don't know who's doing the spying. I'm just generally distrustful at the moment and would love to be able to take my clothes off in peace."
"Makes sense," Eric agreed, probably sensing the stress in my voice. "Okay then. So, you want me to come over at 9?"
"Let's make it 8:45," I countered as I started to exit. "I'll come up with a way to get Katie out early."
"Sir, yes sir," Eric replied as I pulled open the door.
Sensing that I may have not shown Eric the appreciation he deserved, I stopped and turned back to face him. "Thank you, Eric," I said earnestly. "I really appreciate your help."
"Happy to help," he replied with a smile. "If anything changes, message me."
"Will do. Oh, and June?" I called over to her. "If you can keep all this on the down-low when you see Katie, that'd be great."
From across the room, June gave a wink and turned an imaginary key across her lips.
"Thanks. See ya in a bit," I added to Eric before closing the door behind me. Cold air once again filled my lungs, making me shiver. Lifting my jacket collar to block the wind, I headed back toward the castle.
As I walked, I pulled out my phone and looked through the Kingdom app for Harmony Lodge on the digital map. Once I found it, I opened its page and filled out a reservation for 9:00. Just before I reached the top of the steps to the suite, I tapped "CONFIRM", finalizing Katie's appointment.
Opening the door to the suite, I saw Katie standing in the kitchen wearing her bathrobe. She turned to face me holding a mug of coffee.
"Hey there, early bird!" she chirped in caffeinated fashion. She was clearly another morning person.
"Hey," I replied with a smile. Seeing Katie was still a mixed bag of emotions. Eric's conclusion had certainly eased some of my anxiety, but I still couldn't shake the annoying voice of doubt in the back of my head. On one hand, Katie was the adorkable girl who I'd grown fond enough of to sleep with on our first night together. But on the other hand, she was the wiretapped former Kingdom employee who may or may not have tricked me into believing that she was allergic to peaches...
"You're up early," Katie noted. "Are you one of those morning strollers?"
"Occasionally," I lied with a fake smile. If there was anything I enjoyed less than waking up early in the morning, it would be waking up early in the morning to go for a walk in the cold. I removed my jacket and tossed it over a chair.
"Here, take mine," Katie said, offering me her freshly made cup of coffee.
"Oh, thanks," I replied, caught off-guard by the kind gesture. As I grabbed the mug, Katie leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. For a brief moment, every suspicious bone in my body ceased to exist.
I'd never thought of myself as a vulnerable person. In fact, I had always been someone who scoffed at those people who allowed themselves to be cat-fished. But as Katie's lips caressed mine, I suddenly understood how easy it would be for a predator to exploit a person's emotions. In that moment, I literally had to stop myself from pulling her closer into me and removing her robe.
With a great deal of will power I broke off the kiss. "So, I hope you don't mind, but I got you something," I said, changing the subject.
Katie's face suddenly lit up. "You did?"
"I know it's last minute, but there was an opening for the 9 o'clock time slot at the Harmony Lodge spa, so I made a reservation," I said. "You interested?"
Katie's face lit up. "Oh, wow. That sounds amazing!" Katie responded. "Of course."
"I figured you could use some pampering after all the chaos at the health clinic and the kennel before that," I explained. I couldn't help but feel slightly guilty about misrepresenting my intentions for getting Katie out of the suite.
"That's... really really sweet of you," Katie said, her face blushing adorably. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it," I replied.
"Are you coming too?" Katie asked.
"Actually, I've got a few errands I need to run," I lied. As far as lies went, this one was particularly weak. What possible errands would I need to run at a place like this?
"Darn," Katie said obliviously with a pouty face.
"Also," I added, reaching into my jacket pocket. "I activated the second key card for you. Since all you've got is your employee uniform, I figured you might want to head out early to get some new clothes before the spa." I pulled out the card and handed it to her.
"Oh- are you sure?" Katie asked bashfully. "I hate spending your money."
"Katie," I laughed dismissively. "I won a million dollars from the hunt. I think I can swing it."
"Oh, that's right," Katie chuckled, taking the card from my outstretched hand. "I keep forgetting you're a millionaire."
"Yeah, I'm kind of a big shot now," I replied with a wink.
"Hell yes you are," Katie answered softly as she stepped in for another kiss. Once again, my defenses were rendered ineffective by the curly-haired girl's advances.
As much as I wanted to get to the bottom of Alpha's allegations, I seriously despised him adding uncertainty into my relationship with Katie. In contrast to the anxiety I currently felt, ignorance truly was bliss.
Snapping me back to reality, Katie suddenly leaned back and asked, "Wait, what time is it now?"
I pulled out my phone to check the time. "Um, It's... 8:11," I replied. "Which means, you may wanna head out soon if you're gonna hit up some shops before hand."
"Good point," she concurred, spinning suddenly away from me. "It'll only take a minute to get ready," she added as she walked briskly walked out of the kitchen.
I snickered at her cuteness as she disappeared into the bedroom. As much as I enjoyed Katie's company, the sooner she left, the sooner I could give Eric the all clear to come over. I finished my coffee and proceeded to make Katie a to-go cup from the Keurig machine.
A few minutes later, Katie came out of the bedroom dressed in her Kingdom issued uniform and wearing her backpack. Her hair had been pulled back and tied into a frizzy ponytail.
"Okey dokey," she chirped. "Anything else you want me to pick up while I'm out?" she asked suggestively.
"Mmmm," I chuckled. "I trust your judgment."
Katie flashed a devious grin as she leaned in for a last small kiss. "Thanks for this," she added softly. "It really was sweet of you to put this together."
"You're welcome," I replied, trying my very best to not look guilty. "I'll meet you back here when you're done and we can grab some lunch."
"It's a date," Katie said with a smile before turning to leave.
"Don't forget your caffeine," I replied, holding out the cup of coffee I'd just made for her.
"My gosh, you're seriously amazing!" Katie responded as she took the cup from me. When she reached the doorway, she turned back and smiled. "See you in a bit."
"Have fun," I replied.
And with that, Katie exited the suite.
No sooner did the door click shut, I yanked out my phone and opened the Kingdom app to write Eric:
"Coast is clear."
Moments later, Eric wrote back:
"Be there in 10."
I stowed my phone in my pants pocket and looked around to see if anything needed to be done to the place before Eric's arrival. To my pleasant surprise, Katie appeared to have already straightened everything up. The trash from the previous night's dinner had all been disposed of. The bathroom was in perfect condition and the bed had been tightly made. Katie had even placed the uneaten chocolate mints back on the pillows. The perks of having custody over a former hotel maid, I thought.
Having nothing else to do, I seized the moment to read a bit more of the Kingdom Handbook while I quickly used the restroom.
Exactly 10 minutes after Eric's text, I heard a knock at the suite's door.
"Pool boy, at your service," Eric greeted enthusiastically as I pulled the door open.
"Hey," I replied awkwardly, stepping aside so he could enter. Eric wore a bright orange and green bathing suite, flip-flops, and a tank top. Over his shoulder was a large duffle bag.
"Man, it's way colder outside than I thought it was," Eric said shivering as he stepped inside. "The pool better be at least 80 degrees!"
"So, how long do you think this'll take?" I asked as I closed the door behind him.
Eric made an impressed whistling noise as dipped his fingers into the heated pool. Like a kid in a candy store, he walked around the suite exploring the space. "Once I'm all set up- between the great room and kitchen, it shouldn't take more than... ehhh 20-25 minutes." Disappearing into the bedroom, Eric continued, "And then maybe another 10 for the bedroom and bathroom!" A few seconds later, he reemerged, chewing a one of the chocolate mints that Katie had left on the pillows.
"So, around 35 minutes?" I asked
"More or less," Eric replied with a smile. He stepped into the kitchen and began unloading the contents of his duffle bag onto the table. I stood awkwardly beside the table as I watched him set up his laptop and the complicated array of devices.
"Can I... help with anything?" I asked.
"I don't think so," Eric replied without looking up from his work. "Actually-" he corrected himself. "If you could power off all the Wi-Tricity coils, that'd be helpful. EMF causes too much interference."
I blinked in confusion. "Uh, what?" I asked.
"The Wi-Tricity coils," Eric repeated, looking up at me as if I was supposed to know what that meant. I merely shrugged back at him. "The copper-colored lamps like... that one over there by the sofa," He pointed to the end table where a tall modern-looking lamp sat. "Should be another one in the bedroom as well."
I stepped over to take a closer look. I was surprised that I hadn't noticed the lamp before. Seeing it now, I could tell that it was clearly different from the lighting fixtures I'd chosen when I designed the suite.
"There's an off-switch on the base in the back," Eric clarified.
The neck of the lamp was basically a tall glass vase with thick copper wires coiling up the inside. I circled the end table and located a switch just above the power cord on its base. I flicked the switch to its off-setting, but nothing happened. The lamp remained lit.
"Um, and what does the off-switch do, exactly?" I asked, perplexed.
"Stops it from emitting electromagnetic waves," Eric said, keeping his focus on the instruments in front of him.
"And... why was it emitting electromagnetic waves?" I asked, suddenly feeling intellectually stunted.
Eric turned to face me, wearing an incredulous expression. "Seriously?"
"Dude, you're speaking a different language right now," I laughed. "I have difficulty working the toaster oven."
"How do you think collars are powered?" Eric asked.
I blinked at him as I contemplated his words. "Wait- are you're saying that these lamps charge devices over thin air?"
"Of course!" Eric laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I thought this was your second year at the Kingdom," he added. "Didn't you ever wonder why the batteries in your collar never needed to be changed?"
"I... honestly never thought about it," I replied, shaking my head in amazement. "That's incredible!" Flicking the switch on and off again, I examined the lamp closer. I had no idea that this technology even existed!
"It's a brave new world, red," Eric chuckled as he stood to his feet holding a scope-looking device up to his eye. Squinting, he peered through its lens, scanning the room.
I was about to ask him what this new contraption was, but the phone suddenly rang across the room.
I walked quickly into the kitchen and picked up the receiver on the wall. "Hello?" I asked.
"Hello, is this Jodie O'Connell?" asked a low monotone voice.
"Yes," I replied shortly.
"Hi, this is Roger Felton from Sycamore Market," the voice explained. I suddenly recognized the voice as the market employee who had barged in on me naked the day prior. "I'm sorry to call under these circumstances, but we have your slave in custody. I'm afraid Miss Huff was caught shoplifting."
"What?!" I asked loudly, making Eric jump and turn toward me. "Bullshit!"
"I witnessed it personally, ma'am," the man named Roger replied in his annoying monotone voice. "Seeing as how she has a probation collar, I figured I'd pay you the courtesy of contacting you before security."
I could feel my blood pressure spiking. There was simply no chance that his allegations were true. She was obviously being set up! "Where is she now?" I asked.
"We're holding her at the checkout counter," he responded.
"Okay, do not touch her," I warned him. "I'll be right there." It took every ounce of restraint I possessed not to cuss him out right then over the phone. Before I gave him a chance to answer, I hung up on him and slammed the phone down on the receiver.
"Everything okay?" Eric asked, his face looked concerned.
I let out a frustrated sigh, shaking my head in disbelief. "No, I- I gotta go," I replied bluntly, grabbing my jacket from the kitchen chair.
"O-okay," Eric replied, clearly unsure of how to respond. "Do you want me to pick this up another time?"
"No," I answered, as I walked past him. "Please finish what you're doing... I just... I- I'm sorry, I've gotta go."
"Okay," Eric replied, dumbfounded. "Good luck!"
I didn't respond as I stormed out of the suite. I was definitely seeing red as I ran down the stone stairway and shoved my arms into my jacket. I cursed under my breath, livid that I once again found myself in the middle of another shit storm.
Less than a minute later, out of breath, I ran up to the Sycamore Market and stormed inside. The market was almost entirely empty and, like the day prior, loud rock music blared from the overhead speakers. To my left, I saw the fat toupee'd asshole named Roger typing on a checkout computer. My heart dropped as I saw Katie sitting on a chair behind him with her hands behind her back, most likely restrained. I could tell that her eyes were red and she'd been crying.
"Ah, Miss O'Connell," The man named Roger said upon my entrance. "Thank you for coming so quickly."
"Let's cut right to the chase," I said forcefully, storming straight over to him "Whatever you thought you saw, you were mistaken. Katie wouldn't steal anything."
"I admire your loyalty to your slave but I know what I saw," he replied calmly. "When Miss Huff arrived, I noticed she seemed tense and kept looking over her shoulder. Almost immediately, I witnessed her discretely putting items of clothing into her backpack."
"Okay," I replied dismissively. "Katie, what actually happened?" Katie opened her mouth, her eyes nervously glancing back and forth between Roger and me. "You clearly didn't do this," I coached her. "So, what were you doing that he mistook for shoplifting." Katie's mouth quivered, almost as if she were scared to speak. She was clearly having difficulty weighing a response.
"Katie," I pressed her forcefully. "Just tell the truth."
Unable to stall anymore, Katie replied in a meek voice, "I wasn't taking anything. I was... putting things back."
My heart suddenly dropped in my chest as the puzzle pieces all came together. Dammit Katie, I thought. The dumb ditz wasn't stealing anything. She was caught returning the clothing that I'd accidentally stolen the day prior!
My face softened, indicating to Katie that I understood what she'd done. Katie's hesitation to defend herself was out of the fear of implicating me! I took a deep breath, quickly devising an explanation to offer Roger.
"That... makes more sense," I broke the silence in a soft voice. Turning to Roger, I took at deep breath and attempted to deliver my explanation in a less combative tone. "After you barged in on me naked yesterday, I was... understandably flustered and I left here in a hurry. It wasn't until I got back to my room that I realized that I'd accidentally taken some of the outfits I'd tried on in the fitting room." Roger's eye widened. "Katie was clearly trying to do the right thing by returning the items."
Roger paused for several seconds, staring at me with a dumb blank expression. "So, just to be clear," he replied in monotone, "You're confessing that you were actually the one who shoplifted these items?"
"I didn't shoplift anything," I responded, feeling my combative side quickly resurfacing. "Like I said- I forgot they were still in my bag when I left. I was still recovering from the shock of having my privacy violated."
"And you decided to wait... until the next day to return the items?" Roger asked skeptically.
"I didn't realize I still had the outfits until last night when I saw Katie try one on," I countered.
"You used the outfits?" Roger asked looking surprised
"No!" I replied defensively. "She just tried on the catwoman suit. And then she took it right back off. It was on her for like, two minutes, tops."
"Well, then we can't take it back," Roger retorted.
"Fine," I replied angrily. "I'll pay for it. I'll pay for everything. Look- it was an honest mistake. And, quite frankly, one that would never have happened had my privacy actually been respected in the first place."
Roger said nothing for a few moments and merely stared creepily at me. Finally, he reached across the counter toward the phone. "I think this circumstance will probably be best handled by security."
My hands instinctively shot up to my hips. "Seriously?" I asked, louder than I'd intended. "You're gonna call security over this? Over Katie trying to return items?"
"Look, we take shoplifting very seriously here," he replied, picking up the phone. "It's important that we document it on our ends by contacting the authorities."
My jaw dropped open in disbelief. I wanted nothing more than to give the bastard a black eye. I looked over at a distraught Katie who was still seated behind the counter with her hands behind her back. My heart broke for her as I saw her struggling to hold back tears. The poor girl was just trying to look out for me... again.
As I stared at her, my eyes came to rest on the red probation collar around her neck. More than anything else, her probationary status made this situation far more dangerous for her. After just having reread large portions of the handbook, I'd become aware of all the detriments of probation. Just like in the real world, there was far less leniency given to rule-breakers with probationary status. The reason why a person had been placed on probation was insignificant. The red collar was essentially the scarlet letter of the land and its wearers got one strike as opposed to three. With Katie on probation, security was more likely to throw the book at her than to exercise any semblance of grace...
It was in this moment that I reached across the counter and pressed my finger onto the phone's switch, ending his call. Roger looked up at me in surprise.
"Miss O'Connell?" He asked.
"No," I said definitively. "No. I'm not gonna let you call security over something so absurd."
Roger paused before replying," Miss O'Connell, I'm going to have to ask you to desist."
"What do you want?" I asked, keeping my finger pressed down on the phone switch.
"Excuse me?" Roger asked.
"I said, what do you want?" I reiterated. "What's it gonna take for you to move on from this?"
He responded, as if a broken record, "Like I said, we take matters of shoplift-"
"Yes, I know. You take shoplifting very seriously," I interjected sarcastically. "But we both know that's not what this was. So, I repeat- what is it that you really want?"
The both of us just stared at each other for several seconds until Roger slowly placed the phone back on the receiver.
"There is one arrangement that could work," he replied in a low voice as he leaned forward. I was instantly putt off by his creepy shift in tone and demeanor. "One of our residency employees called in sick this morning. Her shift was from 8 to noon. If your slave was willing to fill in for her shift, I suppose we could overlook this."
"Shift doing what?" I asked skeptically.
"Modeling," Roger replied, nodding over my shoulder. I turned around to see a latex-clad living manikin, locked into a star position at the end of the aisle.
"No fucking way," I replied bluntly as I turned back toward him. "That's not happening."
Roger leaned in closer to me, causing me to wince from his bad coffee breath. "In that case," he countered, "I guess I'll be calling security."
"What other options are there?" I asked, forcefully. "I'd be happy to join her. You'll essentially have two free employees for the morning shift. Put us to work. Modeling's out of the question, but I'm sure there are other jobs to be done."
"None that I'd entrust to thieves," he replied coldly. "Those are your options. The girl models on the floor for three hours, or I let security sort this out. Take your pick."
I could feel my heart racing as I glared at the asshole's ugly-ass face. Finally, I made up my mind.
"I'll do it," I said between gritted teeth. "Katie walks out of here right now and I'll be your model."
"What?" Katie interjected. "Jodie, no." Without looking away from Roger, I held up my index finger toward Katie, signaling her to be quiet.
Roger's mouth widened into a grin, revealing a mouthful of crooked teeth. "Looks like you found door number three after all," he said in an impressed tone. He continued staring at me contemplatively for several seconds before straightening up and concluding, "You've got yourself a deal."
"No!" Katie said more forcefully, standing to her feet.
"It'll be fine," I said to her reassuringly. "It's just three hours."
"You don't need to do this," she pleaded as she stepped over to me. "Just let him call security."
I forced a smile, attempting to put her mind at ease. "I don't trust them," I replied. "Look- just go to the spa, relax, and then we'll meet up for lunch, as planned."
"Jodie. No," Katie argued, shaking her head.
"That's an order," I replied with a wink. Katie pursed her lips, exhaling in disapproval.
I leaned around her to see that a zip-tie was what restrained her wrists. Grabbing a pair of scissors from off the counter, I leaned over and cut her hands free. The zip-tie fell to the ground revealing painful cut marks on her outsides of her wrists. I suppressed the guttural urge to cuss at Roger for cinching the zip-tie so unnecessarily tight.
"I'm so sorry, Jodie," Katie said in a whisper, clearly holding back tears.
"Katie," I chuckled, taking her face in my hands. "It's three hours. That's 48 minutes less than the runtime of the Fellowship of the Ring." A weak smile spread across Katie's face. "I'll be fine." I looked down at my phone that read 8:56am. "You've got four minutes before your spa appointment starts. Scram."
"Thank you," Katie whispered.
"Alright," Roger interjected snapping us out of our moment. Once his register was closed, he began walking away toward the back of the market. "Miss Huff, you're free to leave. Miss O'Connell, follow me, please."
"See you back at the suite around noon," I said with a smile. Katie nodded as I turned and walked away.
My confident façade vanished the instant that Katie could no longer see my face. Three hours was a terrifying length of time to be bound, gagged, and sexually tormented. If the information placards in front of each model were accurate, I'd be wearing a vibrator, anal-spreading pear plug, and TENS patches over each nipple. Each purchase made would trigger these devices to activate simultaneously for a duration that reflects the dollar amount spent.
No sooner did we reach the end of the center aisle, a chorus of high-pitched moans and protests suddenly filled the large room, indicating that a purchase had just been made.
Against the wall by the water fountain, a shiny pink manikin threw her head backward in visible distress. My eyes caught a glimpse of her gloved fingers frantically groping the air as I passed her. My face flushed with rage as I contemplated the misery of joining these women in their tortures...
I followed Roger through the "STAFF ONLY" door, past the rows of inventory-filled cardboard boxes, and into the employee break room. I noticed that there was now a partition down the center of the room, essentially dividing the space in a locker room on one side and a workshop of sorts on the other. On the workshop side were several large ominous pipe structures that I'd never seen before.
"First things first," Roger broke the silence, "You won't be able to use the bathroom until the end of your shift, so you'll need to evacuate your bowels and bladder now."
"I'm good," I replied bluntly.
"Oookay," Roger replied, seemingly unconvinced. "Because it's a three hour shift-"
"For fuck sake," I replied louder than I intended, "I went before I left."
"Fine," he replied, raising his hands defensively as he turned away. He then began sorting through a cardboard boxes stacked against the workshop wall. "Let's see, you look to be about a size small, correct?"
"Depends on the day," I muttered curtly. Roger looked over to me, unsatisfied with my answer. "Yes, I'm a small," I clarified, rolling my eyes.
"This'll do," Roger said, as he lifted a plastic-wrapped package and brought it over to me. I took it from him and pulled out a gold latex catsuit. "Alright. Now remove your clothes and get greased up," he continued. "You can store your belongings in locker number nine."
"Greased up?" I asked, confused.
"With lubricant," he answered. "Located in the dispensers on the wall. It'll help the latex slide on."
I stepped over to the locker room side of the break room and began removing my socks and shoes. I shook my head in disbelief that I was actually going along with this. How the hell was I so predicament-prone?! Adding to my disgust, I could feel Roger's eyes burning into my backside as I hesitantly undressed, marking the second time in two days that the asshole had enjoyed the pleasure of seeing me naked.
There were so many expletive-laced objections I wanted to voice in this moment. But instead of giving into temptation, I forced myself to think of Katie. As odd as it was, I was able to find a bit of peace knowing that I was saving her from three hours of torment.
Once I was completely nude, I placed all of my belongings inside the locker, and stepped over to the nearest lubricant dispenser. I shivered as I applied the cold greasy substance over my body.
"In the top of your locker, you'll find a mesh bag filled with velcro straps," Roger explained. "Before you put on your catsuit, apply the straps to each of your ankles, wrists, knees, elbows, and shoulders. And make sure the metal clips are all positioned behind you so they'll line up with the slits on your catsuit."
I located the mesh bag in the locker and began the process of accessorizing my joints with velcro straps. Each strap was labeled with its corresponding body part, leaving little room for error.
Once every strap was secure and each metal clip was rotated to my backside, I began the uncomfortable task of tugging the skin-tight latex catsuit over me. After a few minutes of hard work and perseverance, I finally managed to zip everything up and pull each metal clips through the adjacent slits.
"Okay," Roger said. "Now we get you locked to your podium. This way."
Following him over to the workshop side, we stepped up to a bizarre pipe structure that stood roughly 5 feet high. I stared at what he called my podium, wondering what the hell I was even looking at... It almost looked like a piece of a modern art you'd find in a fancy lobby.
Basically, it was a curved stripper pole extending upwards from a wooden platform. At its center, poles branched out from both sides to roughly mimic a figure-8. After studying it for a few more seconds, I noticed that the whole product appeared to resemble a human being. A sort of stick figure squatting low to the ground with its arms over its head.
Just then, everything clicked. Similar to the manikin I'd inspected by the checkout, this pipe sculpture was actually a frame. An outline for a person to be secured to. I was to be strapped to the pipe structure at each of my joints, locking me into the same figure-8 position as the stick figure...
Roger knelt down to his knees and began adjusting one of the pipes. The longer I stared at the device, the more I dreaded what the next three hours would entail. My mind suddenly began racing to think of a way out of this predicament. What if I tried to seduce Roger? Would he even go for it? I never fancied myself as much of a seductress, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to try. As distasteful as it might have seemed, I'd much rather give the fat bastard a blow job than spend the next three hours in restrictive bondage. I quickly brainstormed on how to best pursue this objective...
"So, basically I just... stand here three hours?" I asked. Roger didn't reply but rather continued fidgeting with the base of the pipe structure. "Doesn't sound very exciting," I said taking a step toward him.
"Oh, don't worry," Roger chuckled, standing up straight. To my frustration, he didn't seem to notice my proximity and remained focused on the device. "It'll get plenty exciting for you once the customers start arriving."
"Well, what about for you?" I asked, taking another step closer to him. It was at this moment that he noticed how close I was to him and he gave me a surprised double-take. "Wouldn't you rather I do something a bit more... mutually beneficial?"
Roger cleared his throat uncomfortably and turned away to avert my gaze. I took one last step toward him, pressing my latex-clad body against his. "What if I could make your shift more exciting?"
"And how might you do that?" a husky voice suddenly said from behind me. Surprised, I spun around to see a large unattractive woman with frizzy hair approaching. I recognized her as the woman who was operating the other register the day prior. She was wearing a maroon polo shirt that matched Roger's and had a nametag that read BRIDGET. Standing nearly a foot taller than me, her broad shoulders and body mass index made her quite an intimidating sight.
"What's going on here, Roger?" She asked, folding her large arms across her chest.
Roger suddenly straightened up and placed his hands by his sides, almost as if a drill sergeant was addressing him. "Nothing," he replied, clearing his throat. "Nothing. Um, this is Jodie. She decided to take her slave's place for number nine's shift.
The woman named Bridget walked over to the two of us wearing a suspicious look on her face.
"Mm-hmm," she muttered. "And is that why you've grown yourself a little erection?"
Roger shifted uncomfortably in his stance. "No- I don't have a- it's a... It's just the way I'm standing... Ma'am."
Bridget stepped in closer to Roger and reached out to cup his crotch with her hand. "You're a little liar," she whispered.
Roger didn't respond, but I could see that his face had suddenly grown beet red.
"Go put on your chastity cage and I'll handle the girl from here," she said in a low voice.
"Yes, ma'am," Roger replied pathetically, hanging his head.
"Quickly!" she snapped loudly at him, the sound of her voice echoing off the walls. Roger flinched at her command and began jogging away. "And then relieve Alex at register one!" A few moments later, the woman and I were alone.
Bridget turned back to face me. "So," she said curtly, "Your slave's the one who tried to steal from us, huh?"
"No," I said, taking a deep breath to compose my explanation. "She was trying to return something that I'd taken by accident." Bridget's overgrown eyebrows rose in surprise. "Yesterday, your employee barged in on me in the fitting room when I was naked. As a result, I was flustered and forgot that I still had stuff in my bag when I left."
"Ahhhh," she said dramatically. "So, it was his fault that you chose to steal from us?"
I exhaled slowly, trying to compose myself before I accidentally head-butted the bitch. With forced restraint, I explained, "I purchased something else, but I forgot that I still had more in my-"
"Psssssh!!!" Bridget cut me off loudly, holding up her index finger. "I don't care why you did it. My only interest is rectifying the offense."
I sighed, recognizing the futility of arguing with this bitch.
"Whatever your story is, my husband made you an offer and you accepted it," Bridget replied, placing her hands on her hips. "Period." The fact that these ugly fucks were married was generally unsurprising. I shuddered to imagine the hideous gene pool they'd pass to their offspring if they ever conceived.
Bridget then pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and lifted it toward my neck. But a split second later, her smug expression vanished and she pulled her phone backwards.
"Where's your collar?" she asked, sounding alarmed.
"I... don't have one," I replied.
"Your slave's collar," She corrected herself impatiently. "Did she not leave it with you when you took her spot?"
"Uh, no," I replied, taken off-guard. "Was she supposed to?"
Bridget sighed. "Roger should have made that clear," she muttered, shaking her head. "Welp, in that case, you'll be modeling one of our collars." Moving right along, she stepped past me grabbed the vertical pole of the pipe structure I was to be secured to. "Step up to the podium and place the balls of your feet on the red circles."
I begrudgingly followed her orders and stepped onto the base of the pipe structure. Crouching down, Bridget grabbed my calf and fiddled with the clip attached to my ankle strap. For a split second, I contemplated kneeing the woman in the head. A good hard hit to the temple might've been enough to level her... But I ruled out the idea almost as quickly as I thought of it. I'd essentially be trading 3 hours here for several days in the kennel on assault charges. At this point, the best option available to me was to grit and bear what was about to happen.
My window of opportunity officially closed as I felt each of my ankles get secured tightly to the pipes behind them.
"Squat," Bridget ordered. I followed her command and squatted low until my hamstrings and ass came to rest on the corresponding pipes. Making her way up, she repeated the process of securing the straps at each knee, shoulder, elbow, and wrist. The end result was me- frozen in place against the pipe structure. My legs were spread wide and bent in a squatting position. My back was kept arched and my hands were secured over my head to the top of the vertical pole.
While this position would undoubtedly been quite stressful to sustain under normal circumstances, the piping beneath and behind me allowed me to rest my weight comfortably. What it would feel like three hours from now, I couldn't say. But at the present, I felt no immediate discomfort. This, unfortunately, was all about to change.
"Lovely," she mused as she straightened up. "This position suits your body frame nicely."
"Great," I replied, sarcastically.
"Wait a minute!" Bridget interjected, suddenly looking taken aback. "I recognize you, now! You're the champion of the hunt!"
I nodded my head unenthusiastically. "Yep," I replied.
"Wow!" Bridget exclaimed, laughing. "Well, isn't this a treat! It's not every day we have a celebrity model for us."
I forced my face to remain expressionless, trying not to appear concerned by her excitement.
"Well, now that I know who you are, I'll definitely have to find you a featured spot on the floor. Perhaps even the front window!"
I could feel my blood pressure rising with each word she spoke.
"And we'll skip the hood, for sure," she continued giddily, sticking her hand into her back pocket. "A face as recognizable as yours needs to be seen!" I maintained my cool as she produced a hair tie and began running her hands through my hair. After a few moments, my hair was tied into a ponytail at the back of my head.
Bridget then turned and stepped over to my locker. While she was looking away, I seized the opportunity to test my restraints. After a few seconds of tugging, I sighed in defeat, recognizing how secure I was.
From my locker, Bridget retrieved a grey plastic bin and carried it back over to me. Crouching down in front of me, she removed the lid to reveal the items that I dreaded most. Inside was a large ribbed dildo, metallic butt-plug, and several coils of wires. Picking up the dildo, she connected an electrical cord to its base and then peeled off a condom, revealing a phallus that had been pre-lubricated. She used her free hand to unzip the crotch of my catsuit and find my pussy lips with her sausage-sized fingers.
Without warning, she positioned the dildo at my clit and shoved upward. I gasped as the large cock forced its way deep inside me. Good GOD it was big! And long!!! My eyes closed, as I fought off the arousal that accompanied the unwelcome invasion. Once the shaft was completely submerged, I slowly opened my eyes. My catsuit was already starting to feel tighter around my breasts as I began to breath deeply.
"Do not let that fall out," she ordered, prompting me to clench my abdominal muscles. Not that I needed to. Even with the lubricant, the dildo was far too wide and ribbed to go anywhere on its own.
Next, Bridget picked up the metal butt-plug and connected an electrical cord to its base. Like the dildo, the bulb of the plug was also protected by a condom. As she peeled it off, I could see that it, too, was slick with lubricant. Twisted as these sick fucks were, the use of condoms to pre-lubricate the toys was certainly efficient and sanitary.
Lifting it up to her face, she used her thumb to press a button at the base of the plug. My jaw suddenly dropped as I watched the bulb suddenly split into three sections and spread to twice its original size.
"Ever used an anal-spreading pear plug before?" Bridget asked. I didn't reply as I stared in horror at the device.
She laughed at my expression as she lowered the object toward my sex. "I'll take that as a no," she said. "You're in for quite a stretch, champion."
"Wait," I said, uselessly tugging on my restraints. Bridget ignored me and proceeded to position the plug beneath my asshole. "Wait, wait-wait-wait!" I said more forcefully.
Bridget stopped and leaned back to meet my gaze. Her ugly face suddenly looked unnervingly pleased by my display of resistance. "You're on the clock," she said coyly. "Stalling won't help you now. This is going in your ass whether you like it or not."
"Wait- can we talk about this for a second?" I asked desperately. "This is crazy."
Bridget chuckled as she leaned back toward me and repositioned the plug beneath my anus.
"Do you want money?!" I continued frantically. "I can pay- I can invest in your busi-aaaauooouch FUUUUUCK!!!" My fingernails dug into my palms as the plug painfully forced its way into my ass.
"Don't fight it," she warned in a singsong voice. "Just take it. A little further, aaaaand we're in."
"SHIIIIT!!!" I screamed. Once the bulb made its way passed my sphincter, the intense pain had ceased. But the discomfort and humiliation of having my ass plugged remained. I gave a small test push to see how secure the plug really was. I exhaled in defeat as I came to grips with its permanence. I growled softly through clenched teeth, glaring at the floor in helpless frustration.
Then, Bridget zipped the catsuit back up over my sex, effectively locking the devices inside my body. The only visible evidence of their existence were the electrical cords dangling from the back of the zipper.
"Not so bad now, is it?" Bridget asked patronizingly. Stooping down further, she pulled the cords behind the vertical pole and plugged them into receptacles at its base. "You wait-" she continued, "By the time your shift ends, you'll be sad to see it go." I literally bit my tongue to keep from cussing her out.
Then, she stood upright and unzipped the top my catsuit down to my belly button. Without reservation, she reached both hands inside of my lapels and pulled out my breasts.
"My, what perfect C's you, have," she cooed condescendingly as she lifted my breasts up and allowed them fall back down. I scowled at her, loathing her sense of entitlement. Blackmailing me into working a shift as a bondage model was bad enough without having my body handled. Once again, my head danced with fantasies of head-butting the fat bitch.
Next, Bridget reached into the bin and withdrew two long wires. Attached to the end of each wire was what looked like two half-dollar sized, donut-shaped stickers. Peeling off the stickers' clear plastic backing, she carefully applied them to my each of my breasts. Given the stickers' donut shape, both of my exposed nipples poked through the hole in the center.
Pulling the nipple wires up my chest, she laid one over each shoulder and ran them around my neck to meet at the rear. Then, she pulled my catsuit's lapels together and zipped me back up. Grabbing the wires that protruded from the nape of my catsuit, Bridget swiftly connected them to what I guessed was a receptacle on the pole behind me.
Looking pleased, she stepped back to admire her work. Appearing to remember something, she suddenly snapped her fingers and spun toward the shelves behind her. Moments later, she returned holding a black posture collar. Without speaking, she lifted the rigid collar to my neck and began lacing it from the back. When she finished, I could barely move my head and my chin was trapped in a lifted position.
"All set," she said, apparently satisfied with the final product. "And just in time for morning rush hour!"
I rolled my eyes as Bridget then produced a huge black bit-gag to my mouth. "Open wide," she ordered. Failing to see the upside of resisting, I obliged. Moments later, the large cylindrical rubber gag was wedged between my teeth and the strap was buckled tightly behind my head.
"Alright, let's get you out there, champion," Bridget said as she stepped behind me. I let out a muffled squeal as I found myself being angled backwards. The entire platform was tilted until I was practically looking straight up at the ceiling. Then, as if on a dolly, Bridget began to roll me from the break room and through the overstock bay.
Passing through the STAFF ONLY doors, I winced at the return of the loud rock music that blared overhead. My eyes began to dart around the market, surprised and horrified to see the many customers that had arrived in the 15 minutes I'd spent getting ready. Several male customers stopped what they were doing to ogle at me as I passed.
"Whoa- is that..." one customer began.
"The champion of the hunt?" Bridget interjected loudly. "You bet it is! Just joined our staff this morning." I rolled my eyes at how evidently proud she was with herself. "Roger!" she called to the front of the market. "Clear a path for me to wheel our new model into the front display!" she called over to the register.
"Yes ma'am," Roger replied from behind an empty register, springing to action and jogging over to the window by the entrance. Working quickly, Roger managed to move and rearrange all of the featured products away from the center just before I was rolled up.
"Here we are," Bridget announced as she rolled me as close as I could get to the glass. I gasped as she abruptly dropped the front of the platform to rest flat on the floor. "Perfect visibility for all our prospective customers."
The streets and sidewalks were now busy with pedestrians. Similar to my reaction the day prior, several passersby did a surprised double-take once they realized that I was actually a real person as opposed to a plastic manikin.
One guy even stopped in his tracks and backed up in order to take a closer look at me. I rolled my eyes as he scanned me up and down. After a several seconds of creepily staring at me, he then leaned over to inspect a sign that was suction-cupped to the inside of the window. Following his gaze, I recognized it as the laminated pricing scale that I'd read the day prior.
Reading the letters in reverse, I refreshed myself on what I had to look forward to each time a sale was made. $1 to $49 in purchases would result in 15 seconds of stimulation, $50 to $99 would result in 45 seconds, and over $100 would result in 3 minutes.
"Alright, champion," Bridget cooed at me as she stood upright. Grabbing my chin with her chubby fingers, she turned my face toward her. I winced in discomfort from the strain on my posture-collared neck. "You've got the next three hours to be spectated and over-stimulated. Since you're not wearing a smart collar that monitors your vitals, I'll have to check in on you a bit more frequently." I rolled my eyes, silently lamenting the idea of having to deal with regular patronizing visits from this bitch.
"And since we never did put our arrangement in writing, maybe we'll even stretch your time to a double shift."
These words made my eyes shoot wide open in rage. "Mmph ullph mph mmmphrrrr!" I objected angrily at her causing her to belly laugh.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it," she chuckled, patting my cheek. "I'll determine whether or not you're up to the challenge."
"Mmph uuuulph!!" I protested. Bridget ignored me as she gave my restraints one last once-over. "MMMMMMPHHHH!!!" I reiterated desperately.
"Oh hush," she replied, condescendingly. "Roger and I both pulled triple shifts back when we were testing the concept for the store. You'll be more than fine for a double."
I scowled hatefully at the fat skank as I tried to control my breathing through my nose. In hindsight, I so regretted not head-butting the bitch when I had the chance.
"And if your slave shows back up," Bridget continued smiling, "I could always rig her up right next to you! Based on my own experience on the podium next to Roger for 9 hours, I'm certain the two of you would appreciate the bonding time."
Instead of protesting further, I merely glared at her. The more she spoke, the more I came to wonder if she was actually bluffing. She seemed like just the type that would delight in a good mind-fuck. There was no way she could follow through on such threats without consent... was there?
All of the sudden, my world was flipped upside down as my bodily stimulants simultaneously sprang to life. My expression instantly changed from one of anger to sheer terror as I felt the vibrating dildo turn on full blast, the stickers over my nipples begin to course with strong electrical current, and the butt plug in my ass began to expand.
"Mmmmmph uuuurph Mmmmlllphuuuuuurrrr!!!!!!" I shrieked into my gag as my eyes clamped shut. Holy SHIT, the ensemble of sensations was intense! I tugged ferociously at my bonds, clenching my fists, flexing my toes, and tossing my head back and forth as much as the posture collar would allow in a hysterical show of discomfort and rage.
Bridget howled with laughter at my plight. "Pace yourself, champion," she said. "You'll need to conserve your energy if you're gonna make it through a double-shift."
As terrifying as the thought of 6 hours was, I was far too preoccupied with everything else that was happening to me. The worst of it, by far, was the now monstrous butt-plug that occupied my anus. I'd used plugs before, but nothing that was even remotely this large. And to make matters worse, the now-expanded butt-plug added significant pressure to my vagina, making the ribbed dildo feel even bigger.
Despite my intense opposition, I felt myself inching rapidly toward orgasm.
Opening my eyes, I realized that Bridget was no longer beside me. Struggling against my posture collar, I craned my head to the side, eager to catch a glimpse of the purchase that had triggered my stimulations. But from my position, I had no view of any checkout counters. I growled in frustration as I realized that there would be no way of knowing how long each bout of torment would last.
Roughly 45 seconds after it began, all of the devices suddenly powered off. The donut stickers stopped electrocuting my nipples, the vibrating dildo ceased it's pounding on my pussy, and the butt-plug slowly shrank back down to it's original size. I let out a muffled sight of relief.
Holy fuck! I thought. I honestly hadn't imagined it being this intense. I ignored the smiling streetwalkers in front of me as my chest heaved up and down to catch my breath.
Several minutes passed until the second purchase was made. This time, however, the stimulants only assaulted my helpless body for 15 seconds. While it still was no walk in the park, at least it didn't bring me to the brink of orgasm.
Once those 15 seconds were over, I opened my eyes to the sight of Bridget holding a bucket on the other side of the glass. Reaching inside the bucket, she pulled out a large florescent pink magic marker and began to write on the window above my head.
Still panting, I read each letter in reverse. Once I realized what she was writing, I couldn't help but roll my eyes.
Jodie O'Connell, CHAMPION OF THE HUNT
Oh, for fuck sake, I thought to myself. How much more humiliation did this whore need to inflict upon me?
No sooner did I ask myself the question, Bridget stooped down and drew a circle around the pricing scale sign that was suction-cupped to my side of the window. Above the circle, she wrote the words:
Double the fun! For a limited time, all sales extend the Champ's durations 2X!!
After I finished deciphering the letters in reverse, my eyes nearly bulged out of my head in shock. Taking notice of my reaction of sheer horror, Bridget gave a toothy grin and flashed me a thumbs up sign. What the actual FUCK!!!!
"NNNNNRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPHHH!!!!!!" I screamed in rage. I was beside myself. I officially lost my shit! I pulled, tugged, and twisted with all my might, desperate to free myself from my predicament. She couldn't do this to me, dammit! I thought. SHE COULDN'T DO THIS!!!!!
Several people on the sidewalk had stopped in front of the window to observe the show I was putting on. Undaunted by their apparent enjoyment, I continued throwing a royal fit as Bridget reentered the market.
"Keep it up, champion," Bridget said antagonistically as she stepped up beside me. "The bigger the show, the better the profits." I continued to writhe and sputter unintelligibly as she knelt down and fidgeted with something at the back of my platform. A few seconds later, she stood back up, but remained hunched over so that we were eye level.
"So, as you're clearly aware, your shift just got a little bit more interesting," she said.
"Rrrrmph mph nppphmurm FRRURMPH!" I replied angrily, evoking audible laughter from onlookers on the other side of the glass.
"15 seconds will now be 30 seconds. 45 seconds will be minute and a half. And 3 minutes will be 6," she explained calmly. "But what your adoring fans out there don't know is that I've also increased the intensity of your nipple stims from 80hz to 120hz."
Before I could express my objections, all of my stimulants suddenly sprang to back to life again.
"GGGGGGRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMUUULLLLMMMMPPPH!!!!" I howled in misery. As horrible as the expanding butt-plug was, the electrical stimulation pads over my nipples quickly became my new greatest foils. The electrical current was now noticeably stronger than before and felt like a hundreds small needles stabbing each nipple.
"Okay, I'll leave you to it," Bridget said as she patted my thigh. "Don't fight it. Just let go and enjoy the ride."
I opened my eyes to shoot her the nastiest glare I could muster, but she'd already turned and started to walk away. Cursing unintelligibly, I directed my undivided attention toward fending off the unwanted orgasm that inched closer and closer.
I knew it was only a matter of time before I'd eventually succumb to the vibrating dildo's assault on my pussy. But if my experience on the extractor taught me anything, it was how imperative it would be to fight off my first climax for as long as humanly possible. Because once the first orgasm hit, it would be virtually impossible to stop or even delay any orgasm thereafter.
But to my shame, I could feel my resolve slowly weakening. Passing what felt to be the first minute and a half mark, my stimulations continued on at full speed ahead. This could only mean one thing. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for a full 6 minutes of continuous stimulation.
Eyes closed, toes curled, and fists balled, I dug deep as I valiantly warded off my intensifying state of arousal. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, I thought out loud as I felt my mind making concessions to my body. Digging my fingernails into my palms, I shook my head back and forth in willful determination.
Another minute passed, but 6 minutes of resistance was beginning to resemble a pipe dream. The vibrations were just too violent. The butt-plug was too big. The nipple electricity, too strong. I clenched my abdominal muscles in a last ditch effort to fight.
After what felt like nearly 4 minutes of abstention, I was no longer able to delay my climax. I screamed in a mixture of guilt and ecstasy as I came like I'd never cum before. Every muscle in my body seemed to convulse simultaneously as flood of electrical impulses fired from my brain.
Quivering uncontrollably, I could do nothing but continue clenching my fingers and toes until the orgasm passed. But even after my climax ceased, my stimulants did not. I moaned pitifully as I wondered how much time I still had on the clock.
I swallowed in an attempt to suppress the sob that I felt creeping up the back of my throat. I despised myself for cumming. And I was ashamed of the part of me that actually enjoyed my sexual release. There was simply nothing worse than the feeling of having your mind hijacked against your will. Losing your mobility to bondage is one thing. But losing your cognitive freedom... It's the epitome of demoralizing.
Not wanting to see the smiling faces of those on the other side of the glass, I kept my eyes closed and braced myself for my continued sexual assaults. But moments later, just as I felt myself building toward a second orgasm, my stimulants all subsided.
I let out a long sigh and flexed my fingers in relief. My palms felt raw as my fingernails slowly retracted from them. Rolling my shoulders back, I attempted to stretch, angling my head back as far as the posture collar would allow. Fuck, I thought. This was certain to become the longest day of my young life.
To my relief, nearly 10 minutes passed before the next purchase was made. And given the fact that it only lasted 30 seconds, I was successfully able to fend off a second orgasm.
As awful as the extractor had been during my time at the kennel, my current predicament was shaping up to be unfathomably worse. Unlike the extractor, the built-in breaks that accompanied these timed intervals weren't likely to afford me the opportunity to pass out. Losing consciousness would have been ideal right about now...
For a while, purchases became sparse and sporadic. To my relief, most turned out to be smaller, "30-second" purchases that kept me from cumming. But as I quickly discovered, the universe always had a sinister way of balancing itself out. Roughly a half-hour in, I was hit with back-to-back-to-back "minute and a half" purchases that each claimed its own orgasm.
45 minutes in, I'd been reduced to a slobbering, sputtering mess. I'd lost count of the number of orgasms I'd experienced and my entire body felt like jello. If I hadn't been secured to the pipe structure, I'd have surely collapsed to the ground like a limp fish. Periodically, Bridget would stop over to "check on me", which consisted of antagonizing me with sadistic one-liners. But I was too exhausted and overwhelmed to even issue her a protest-glare.
My "shift" continued unpredictably until out of the clear blue, the loud rock music playing from the market's overhead speakers suddenly turned off. My eyes shot open in surprise as the brief silence was broken by the sound of ear-shattering sirens. To my right, the sound of shouting could be heard, prompting me to turn my head.
Standing by the metal detectors at the front of the market was a blond-haired security guard with a military buzz-cut. Cupping his mouth in both hands, he appeared to be shouting instructions to the market's guests. I strained my ears to make out what he was saying, but his voice was drowned out by the sirens blaring from the nearest speaker. Once he finished speaking, everyone in the market began making their way toward the exit.
My eyes darted around nervously, suddenly fearing that a fire may have broken out or something. As the customers passed by me, I saw Bridget approach the security guard and begin conversing with him. The guard appeared to speak urgently to her, at several times pointing his finger around the large room.
After a brief conversation, Bridget turned and walked briskly away and the guard began walking towards me. Not making eye contact, he walked up to the window in front of me and began pulling a cord that drew the shades closed. Perplexed by what was happening, I watched patiently as the shades slowly covered the large window.
Once the window was dark, the guard turned and faced me, finally meeting my gaze. It was at this moment that my blood ran cold with the dread. Whether it was female intuition or just plain paranoia, I somehow knew something was off.
I furrowed my brow contemplatively as I tried to get a read on him. Unlike every other person I'd come into contact with over the past week, there was something off about this man. His face was expressionless and his eyes looked almost... dead. The two of us shared a chilling moment of silence before the man reached into his pants pocket and withdrew a syringe.
I had no time react before he removed the syringe's cap and stabbed the needle into my neck below my posture collar. I howled in pain as the contents of the needle were quickly injected into my jugular vein. Almost instantly, my vision grew foggy and I felt the room begin to spin around me. I blinked several times, feeling my consciousness rapidly slipping away from me. Knowing I had mere seconds left, I spent my last ounce of energy contorting my face into a scowl. The last things I saw before everything went dark were the security guard's cold emotionless eyes.
Chapter 14 - Sympathy for the Devil (added: 2020/01/31)
I woke up with a splitting migraine, lying on my back atop a hard surface. Groaning in agony, I lifted my hands to my throbbing forehead. My arms were heavy as lead and I felt as if I'd just finished running a marathon. My head ached so severely that I could barely open my eyes. Through blurred vision, I could see aged wooden rafters above me and the sound of running, splashing water could be heard.
Disoriented and confused, I began quickly retracing my steps to determine where exactly I was and how I'd gotten here. Waking up unclear of my setting and circumstances had become something of a routine as of late.
With great effort, I lifted myself into a seated position. Still in too much pain to fully open my eyes, I squinted into the dimly lit room, studying my surroundings. It only took me a few seconds to recognize that I was in the boathouse, seated on a long wooden bench against the wall. Confused as to how I got here, I swung my legs to the side and placed my feet on the dank wooden floor.
This boathouse had always been something of a secret hideout for me. A place on the quiet side of the lake where I frequently brought boyfriends, girlfriends, booze in my misguided youth. The best thing about this particular hideout was its privacy. It was basically a large wooden shed built atop of two adjacent boat docks. The dock floor was U-shaped, leaving the water exposed on the south side. So, even when the entrances were locked up, we were always able enter and exit by swimming underneath the walls.
I was suddenly snapped out of my stroll down memory lane as my eyes made out something move on the other side of the room. Startled, I dropped my hands from my head and scurried backwards on the wooden table. A cold chill ran down my back as I made out the silhouette of a person against the light that shone through the wooden planked walls.
"Who's there?" I asked in a shaky voice.
"Easy," a male voice, replied. "You're safe, now."
"I said, who's there?!" I shouted. Projecting my voice only caused my headache to spike.
The silhouette moved forward, prompting me to slide backwards on the wooden bench. Just then, a streak of light from a crack in the boarded up window fell across his face. The moment that the light caught his eyes, I instantly recognized him. It was the blond-haired security guard from Sycamore Market. The one who... stuck a fucking needle into my neck!
"You," I said in a lower voice.
Silently, he raised his hand, offering what looked like a thermos to me. Steam billowed up from its lid.
"Drink this," he replied softly. "It'll help with your headache."
"Who the hell are you?" I insisted, speaking in a louder voice.
"I'm the one who saved you from your predicament at the market," he answered camly.
"Saved me?" I retorted incredulously. "You drugged me and abducted me to a fucking boathouse."
"It was the only way I could get you out of there without raising too many red flags," he explained. "I set off the alarm and then knocked you out in order to justify relieaving you from the remainder of your shift. The shop owner believes I took you to the emergency health clinic."
"So, you decided to take me to a floating shack in the middle of nowhere?" I asked, suspiciously.
"I wanted to bring you somewhere we could talk freely," he replied softly. "You can leave any time you'd like. I won't stop you. The bag by your feet contains all of your belongings."
I glanced down at a tote bag on the floor with my clothing folded neatly inside. It wasn't until that very moment that I realized that I was still wearing the golden catsuit and straps from the market. This also meant...
I quickly pressed my hand against my sex, not so subtly double-checking the occupancy of my pussy and anus. To my relief, the dildo and butt-plug were no longer inside of me. But that relief instantly turned to affront as I contemplated how they'd been removed. My eyes shot wide open as I directed my focus back toward the blond-haired guard.
"Did you-" I started to ask in an accusatory tone.
Seemingly guessing what I was about to ask, he interjected, "Would you have rather I left the dildo and butt-plug inside of you?"
I stared back at him with my mouth open. He wasn't wrong, but the thought of him deciding on his own to un-penetrate me while I was unconscious was disturbing, nonetheless. As I contemplated how to reply, I suddenly noticed that the man was no longer attired in a security guard uniform. He now wore jeans, a casual grey jacket, and a New York Knicks ball cap. Despite my reservations, I couldn't help but notice how attractive and well-built he was.
"So, are you going to tell me who you are, or not?" I asked, changing gears back to the most pressing matter.
"We spoke on the radio yesterday," he replied, as he slowly placed the thermos on the far end of my bench. "You know me as Alpha."
Lost for words, I merely stared back. It was him.
"I hope my intrusion didn't mess up any plans you may have had," he continued. "From what I could tell, your reactions to the shop owner as she was setting you up gave me the impression that you weren't exactly a willing participant."
I hesitated before mumbling, "I was being blackmailed." As thankful as I was to be off that podium, I needed more convincing before I threw this guy a "thank you" party.
"How did you know I was there?" I asked. He didn't reply, prompting me to follow up with, "Were you following me?"
"I was," he replied bluntly. "But then again, you were on public display without a hood for 45 minutes. I'd have seen you from the street whether I was following you or not."
"And why were you following me?" I probed him.
"You know why," he replied flatly, his face looking solemn. "For the same reasons I told you yesterday."
"Refresh my memory," I countered, indignantly.
"You have something that has the power to save a lot of lives. Earning your trust is the only chance I have to gain access to it," he explained. "It's simple, Alison. I need that suitcase."
Hearing the man called Alpha use my real name sent shivers down my spine. It was a subtle reminder of just how much power he held over me. If he'd wanted to, he could expose my true identity at any time. While I never got the impression that he would take this action, I'd have been naïve to not consider the possibility.
"A lot of women's lives depend on this operation's success," he added. "Success is impossible without the suitcase."
I exhaled slowly, turning my face away from him. Nothing softened my resolve quite as adequately as the invocation of innocent lives. Every mention of them pushed me closer and closer to spilling the suitcase's location...
But I still had more questions. Questions that Alpha would have no obligation to answer once I'd given up my leverage. Turning back to face him, I decided to begin my interrogation.
"What did you inject me with?" I asked.
"A low dosage of horse tranquilizer," he answered. "Completely safe."
"Where'd you get it?" I pressed inquisitively.
"Stole it from storage at the stadium," he replied. "Secured by only a simple lever-handle lock."
"And the guard's uniform?" I asked him, skeptically.
"Made it," he replied matter-of-factly. "Bought a sewing machine from The Supply Chest my first day and completed the ensemble by day two."
"And this... suitcase-" I probed. "What's in it?"
Alpha shook his head. "I'm afraid can't tell you that," he replied softly.
"Can't or won't?" I challenged.
"Won't," he replied bluntly. My eyebrows raised, prompting him to elaborate. "If those details were to end up in the wrong hands, it would effectively end the operation. Every protocol, every contingency would be shot. It would amount to certain failure."
"And what's the ultimate goal?" I asked. "If your mission succeeds, what'll happen?"
Alpha took a deep sigh, clearly weighing his words carefully. "The objective... is to expose the degenerates who fund and operate this trafficking ring. It's far bigger than just The Kingdom. We're talking about an organization with ranks in the thousands. The goal is to pull them all from the shadows and hold them accountable so they can't hurt anyone else."
He suddenly turned and walked to the bench against the opposite wall. Taking a seat, he leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. It was at this moment that I realized how exhausted he appeared. He looked as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.
"It's why time is of the essence. I'm the only remaining operative who hasn't been captured," he said softly. "Foxtrot and the others may be the toughest in the world, but a soldier can only withstand so much. Especially at the hands of the kind of people we're dealing with. If any one of my operatives cracks, it could mean game over for everyone."
I shuddered to think of what kinds of torture his operatives were currently facing. As horrible as Brandy, aka Foxtrot, was to me, it gave me no satisfaction to imagine her current state in Annabelle's custody.
For several seconds, neither of us said anything. Unsure of what to say, I rubbed my still-throbbing temples. Glancing down at the steaming thermos, I finally broke the silence. "What's in here?"
"Camomille," he replied. I took a sip of the piping hot tea as I studied Alpha's body language. Slouched forward, Alpha had the look of a defeated man who had officially run out of ideas. Whether his demeanor was genuine or by design, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.
"Say that I did know where this suitcase was," I said. "And I were to tell you where to find it." Even in the darkness of the boathouse, I saw Alpha's eyes flick up toward me, suddenly looking alert. "What's to stop your trail from leading authorities right back to me if you get caught?" I asked.
"Simple," Alpha quickly replied. "You'd have my word that I won't make a move on the suitcase until you've had time to leave the fairegrounds."
"Leave?" I asked, perplexed by his offer. "Who says I'm leaving?"
He tilted his head in apparent confusion. "Did you not get my message last night?"
"The one about Katie?" I replied. "Yeah, I got that."
"And... you still want to stay?" he asked in disbelief. "Despite having proof of a plot to spy on you?"
I rolled my eyes, replying, "What you sent me isn't proof of anything."
"Surely, you're not that naïve," Alpha challenged, squinting at me incredulously. "Your girl's profile was altered hours before she being rushed off to the emergency clinic, put into a wire-tapped collar, and generously placed in your custody... And you think it's all a coincidence?"
"It's a hell of a lot more logical than the theory that Katie is some Academy-award caliber master spy." I countered, defensively. "You don't know her. It's just not possible for her be what you're suggesting."
Alpha leaned forward, suddenly looking deathly serious. "I've spent the last 8 years investigating these people. This conglomerate's ranks are groomed and trained by the most talented espionage agents in the world. Manipulation and subterfuge is their expertise."
"You may be right, but Katie's not one of them," I replied defensively. "She just doesn't have it in her."
"Well, I suppose you would know," Alpha replied bluntly. "You have known her for a day longer than I have."
At a loss for words, I merely glared silently at Alpha. His jab may have been harsh but his point was grounded in truth. As eager as I was to believe the best in Katie, it came at the expense of suppressing the reality that we hardly knew each other. How well could anyone really know a person they had just met?
Alpha suddenly stood up and walked over to a stack of canoes that hung over the exposed water. Reaching inside the bottom canoe, he pulled out what looked like an aluminum soup can with no label. I cocked my eyebrow as he held it out to me.
"What's that?" I asked, hesitantly taking the can.
Alpha sighed before saying, "Canned peaches."
I stared at him for a moment, too shocked to say anything. "Are you out of your mind?" I asked.
"Look, I can't make you leave, but I can at least give you the tools you need to uncover the truth for yourself," he explained.
"So, your recommendation is that I poison Katie?!" I shot back.
"My recommendation is that you forget Katie and get the hell out of here while you can!" Alpha replied suddenly sounding forceful. "But if you won't take that advice, my next suggestion is for you to safe-guard yourself. Add a few drops of peach juice into her coffee. If she has a reaction, it means that she's telling the truth. If nothing happens, it means she's lying."
"Wow," I replied sarcastically. "Is that how they teach it at Harvard med?"
"That's how they teach it at the CIA," Alpha countered. "Look, if you're worried about hurting her, don't be. One or two drops really shouldn't have a serious impact."
I blinked at Alpha, dismayed by his advice. But I was even more surprised by the fact that I was actually considering it. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Katie. But if it meant clearing up any doubts about her and give me a peace of mind to pursue our relationship, I suppose it could be worth it... My eyes flicked down at the can as I weighed the pros and cons.
"Personally though, I'd recommend you chuck the can and get out of dodge. Immediately," Alpha reiterated. "But it's your choice. I can't make that for you."
After a few seconds, I looked back up at him. Silently praying that I was making the right decision, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "The suitcase is at the Trading Post," I said softly.
Alpha sat straight up, saying nothing but suddenly looking energized.
"I left it with a woman named Laura," I continued. "She's been holding it for me since yesterday morning."
"Does anyone else know it's there?" Alpha said in an urgent voice.
I shook my head. "I don't think so."
"Did anyone else see you with it?" Alpha interrogated me. "Guests, security?"
"I- don't know," I replied, quickly racking my brain. "I don't think so. It was early and the streets were still empty.
Alpha suddenly stood to his feet and stepped quickly over to me. His eyes no longer looked tired, defeated, or emotionless. They now had a spark behind them. An almost contagious excitement that compelled me to keep talking.
"And Laura," He pressed. "Is she a trading agent?"
"Uh, yeah," I replied. "She was the one who helped me. Her cubicle's toward the back of the center aisle on the left.
"And you're certain that the suitcase is still there?" Alpha asked.
"To my knowledge," I answered. "Along with my other stuff."
"And she's expecting you to come retrieve it?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied. "I asked her to keep it behind her desk until I came back for it."
Alpha nodded his head, taking everything in. I could tell that the gears were spinning as he turned and stared for several seconds at the boarded up window.
"Last question," he said, turning back to face me. "What were you trading?"
"The suite," I answered, prompting him to furrow his brow in apparent curiosity. "In exchange for Katie."
Alpha's face softened, his eyes almost looking empathetic. "If it's of any consolation, I'd love to be wrong about her." He gave a sigh, before adding, "But I'm afraid my experiences with these people have made me too jaded."
I looked away, not wishing to discuss Katie any longer. Alpha clearly wasn't going to be convinced of her innocence and that was okay with me. I certainly didn't need his blessing for anything I that decided to do.
"Thank you, Alison," Alpha said sincerely.
"I didn't do anything," I replied, shaking my head. "I was just in the wrong place at the right time."
"Nevertheless, a lot of women are going to end up owing you their lives," he said. I looked down at the floor, unsure of how to respond. "I can hold off on intercepting the suitcase, but not for long," he added. "It's 14:00 right now. I can wait until 15:30 to give you time to leave."
"Shit," I said abruptly. "It's 2 o'clock already?" I leaned over and began fishing through the tote bag on the floor for my cell phone.
Alpha glanced down at his wristwatch and replied, "9 minutes til to be exact."
"Dammit," I whispered as I double-checked the time on my home screen. Katie was probably worried sick about me. We had agreed to meet back at the suite an hour ago.
"Alright then," Alpha said reaching out to shake my hand. "Best of luck to you."
I nodded and accepted his hand. "Same to you," I replied. Goodbyes were awkward enough without the high stakes dangling overhead.
Releasing my hand, Alpha turned and headed toward the door. "Give me a five minute head start and then you should be safe to leave."
"Okay," I answered.
Pulling the large wooden door open, Alpha turned and looked back at me. "If I can offer one more piece of advice..." he added, his eyes looking sincere. "Take a beat before you decide anything. Put your emotions aside and really think things through. Trust the little voices in your head."
I merely replied with a small nod.
"Be careful," he added. "Remember that there are eyes everywhere."
And with that, the man named Alpha exited the boathouse, closing the door behind him. Oddly enough, I suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. As nerve-racking as it was to entrust Alpha with the suitcase's location, not longer having to worry about it any longer was a huge relief.
It was almost like a "fixer" voluntarily burying a skeleton they'd discovered in my closet. Granted, this particular fixer also scared the hell out of me with conspiracy theories and warnings of being trafficked. But in the spirit of small victories, the enigmatic suitcase was now off my plate. Whatever happened to it from this point forward was officially none of my concern. And that was good.
Now alone in the boathouse, I began the laborious process of changing out of my skin-tight latex catsuit. Standing gingerly to my feet, my legs still felt shaky from all of the orgasms I'd endured at the Market. On top of that, my asshole felt sore from the expandable butt-plug inside me. I stabilized myself by resting my hand against the wooden slatted wall.
Moments later, I was stark naked and shivering in the brisk air. While the lubricant coating my body had definitely helped with the catsuit's speedy removal, it left me feeling wet and slimy from head to toe. With my teeth jittering from the cold, I knelt down and began to remove my clothing from the tote bag on the floor.
To my pleasant surprise, in the bottom of the bag was a towel for me to dry off with. Alpha really had thought of everything... Once I was dried off, I tossed the greasy towel and catsuit into the bag and proceeded to get dressed into my street clothes. After taking one last glance around to make I hadn't left anything, I exited the boathouse.
It was drizzling outside, which made the air feel even colder. As I walked along the wooded trail back to the fairegrounds, I couldn't help but wonder how Alpha had gotten me to the boathouse in the first place. Had he carried me? Staring down at the damp ground, I couldn't make out any footsteps, telling me that Alpha had clearly taken a different way.
Deep in thought, I took my time with each step. My impulse was to hurry back to the suite so that Katie wouldn't be concerned about me. But I couldn't help replaying Alpha's advice in my head. Take a beat before going back to Katie. Put your emotions aside and really think things through...
Rubbing my still aching forehead, I weighed my options. Should I trust my instincts about this whole Katie situation? Just go back to the suite, fetch her for lunch, and pick up happily where we left off? Or should I practice a bit of healthy skepticism and take a beat to consider my next move?
A few minutes later, I exited the woods' edge by the Cedar Square. At this hour, the patio'd platform at the center of the square should have had a band playing or something. During the regular season, Marvin the Marvelous would have been in the middle of his magic show right about now. But today, the rain had obviously altered the planned programming.
As I walked by, I couldn't help but be reminded of the last performance I'd seen here. The black woman named Tasha had been restrained to the widow device while alternating dildos pounded her ass and pussy. The crowd laughed and cheered as her owner, "old man Murphy", antagonized her with racist taunts and invited people onstage to fondle her helpless body.
That was the first moment I'd entered Murphy's radar. My public intervention on Tasha's behalf was what initially put me in Murphy's crosshairs. Not only did I publicly embarrass him, but I'd also managed to get the demonstration shut down, prematurely ending his moment in the spotlight.
While I'm sure Tasha appreciated her torments being cut short, it prompted Murphy to exact his revenge by outbidding me for Katie at the auction. A decision that would ultimately lead to me agreeing to trade away the castle suite in exchange for Katie... Who would turn out to be temporarily untradeable due to the fact that Murphy had poisoned her with peach jam... My, what tangled webs we weaved.
Passing in front of the fucking machine shop known as Murphy's Hall, I stopped in my tracks. I turned and peered into the dark window of the closed shop, suddenly feeling inspired... If I were to dig deeper into the Katie situation, then there was really no better person to talk to than Tom Murphy, himself... But almost as instantly as the idea popped into my head, I dismissed the possibility. Seeing as Murphy was currently serving time at the kennel, speaking to him wouldn't be possible. Unless... Were there such things as visiting hours at the kennel?
With a new pep in my step, I picked up the pace toward the kennel. If they allowed me to speak to Murphy, even for just a few minutes, I could clear up this whole allergy discrepancy once and for all! Without having to experiment on Katie with drops of peach juice.
Perhaps it was mind over matter, but by the time I reached the kennel, my headache felt considerably better. Walking up to the front desk, I waited impatiently as a security guard finished a phone call. As soon as the phone's receiver left his ear, I blurted out my request.
"I'd like to speak with a prisoner who checked in yesterday," I said forcefully. "Tom Murphy."
The guard stared at me with his eyebrows raised as he placed the phone down onto the receiver. "I'm... afraid that's not possible," he said. "Visitation is only permissible between masters and slaves."
"I understand," I replied, quickly scrambling together my best cover story. "Normally, I wouldn't ask, but... it's actually kind of an emergency," I lied.
"Emergency?" The guard asked, cocking a skeptical eyebrow.
"Yeah," I replied, nodding my head. "I've been watching his slave while he's in here and I'm concerned about her."
The guard's eyes narrowed. "How so?" he asked.
I took a deep breath as I quickly got into my "sorority girl" character. Sorority girl was the technique I sometimes used in order to annoy someone into submission. Imagine a ditzy blonde cheerleader who rambles on and on about every topic under the sun until the other person just folds and gives in to what she wants. That's sorority girl.
"So, like- she's been acting really strange ever since she left the emergency clinic," I lied. "I guess Murphy gave her a peach or something, but she's like really allergic to peaches and had a major reaction. Like, full on white version of Lil' Kim. Eventually, the swelling went down and she seemed back to normal and the doctor was like, yeah, you're free to go. But now, she's acting totally batshit, like, dingo ate my baby crazy."
The guard awkwardly stared back, clearly unsure of how to respond. "Um... you may want to think about taking her back to the clinic," he suggested.
"That's just it- I did! Twice!" I lied. "But each time, they were like, oh, she's fine, don't worry. Yada yada. But she is not fine. Trust me- I know fine. She's not fine."
"Uh," the guard replied, trying to formulate a response. Sensing his increasing discomfort, I cut him off and continued.
"Like, sometimes, she'll completely forget where she's at or what she's talking about and just start blinking like really fast, like-" I began demonstrating by blinking and bobbing my head. "And this morning," I continued, "she literally called me mom."
Looking completely bewildered, the guard opened his mouth to say something but couldn't seem to find words.
"Right?!" I replied loudly. "And just before I came here, we were standing in line at the hot cider stand, just like, talking about what the next Star Wars trilogy or whatever and the girl straight-up pissed herself. Like- right there on the sidewalk in front of everyone, just... splat. I mean, luckily, it was raining, so the ground was already wet, but still! You could totally smell it!"
Seemingly, unnerved by my performance, the guard glanced around the empty room, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
"Look," I replied, leaning my weight on the counter, exposing my cleavage. "I know rules are rules. But I'm really really really worried about Katie and I would feel a lot better if I could just talk to Murphy for a few minutes. Maybe he knows how to deal with these sorts of things. Maybe she's allergic to something else as well! Like, I don't know- a nut allergy or something. I had Reese's pieces on my sunday. Who knows? Maybe she got too close and it triggered another reaction!"
Shaking his head objectionably, the guard opened his mouth to say something. Sensing he was about to deny my request, I interrupted him again. "Pleeease. I won't be long, I swear!" I pleaded, making my voice extra whiny and shrill. "Five minutes, tops! That's all I need. And you'll never ever see me again! Believe me- I don't wanna be here any longer than I have to be. Smells like a... nursing home slash ferret sanctuary in here. Am I alone on that? Tell me honestly that you don't smell a distinct ferret smell."
The guard stared at me, saying nothing for a moment. Finally, he exhaled a long sigh and stood to his feet.
"I'll give you five minutes," he said, shaking his head in obvious irritation. He reached inside the desk an pulled out a small black sign that said, WILL RETURN SHORTLY.
"Oh my god, you're amazing. Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I replied dramatically.
The guard placed the sign on front of the desk in front of me and abruptly held his hand up, signaling me to stop talking. "Five minutes," he reiterated definitively.
"Five minutes, got it," I repeated quickly.
"Follow me," the guard said, walking toward the double doors at the back of the lobby. Following closely on his heels, I watched him unlock the door with his keycard and hold it open for me.
My heart pounded as I stepped into the hallway. Damn, I was good! I thought. Maybe I ought to have tried out sorority girl on Roger at the market...
As I followed the guard down the long hallway, I heard the occasional scream from prisoners through the glass doors on my right and left. To my surprise, they sounded to be both male and female. I shuddered to imagine what types of "corrections" they were enduring. But I quickly chased those distractions from my mind as I focused on what I was going to say to Murphy. I had five minutes to find out what I needed to know. Depending on how cooperative Murphy decided to be, all of my fears and reservations about Katie could potentially be put to rest.
We were nearly at the end of the hall when the guard turned and pressed his key card against a box on the wall, causing the glass door to slide open.
"Five minutes," he said, "No physical contact."
"Understood, thank you," I replied, prompting him turn and walk back to where we came. Taking a deep breath, I entered the well-lit room. What I saw inside took me completely by surprise.
Securely strapped to a black throne-like chair in the center of the room was a stark naked Tom Murphy. Kneeling between his spread legs was a naked Tasha Porter, ring-gagged, head-harnessed, and restrained to the floor in a kneeling frogtie with her arms box-tied behind her.
My jaw dropped as I wrapped my head around Tasha's situation. Behind her was a wide steel pipe sticking out of the floor that supported a fucking machine. But instead the horizontal arm sporting a dildo at the end, it connected directly to Tasha's head harness. The result was Tasha's head being made to gliding forward and backward over Murphy's erect cock.
Seeing as Tasha was black, the whiteness of her knuckles as she clenched her fists gave me the impression that she was not enjoying her predicament...
Tasha wasn't the only one who appeared to be experiencing unpleasantness, though. Beneath the seat of Murphy's throne was a vertical mechanical arm that pistoned a rubber dildo up and down into his ass. In addition, I could also see that he wore a sort of mechanical cock ring at the base of his shaft with LED lights that alternated rhythmically from red to green.
Unlike Tasha, Murphy was not gagged, but rather sported dozens of electrodes across his bald head as well as an elaborate metal helmet tangled in variously colored electrical wires. It almost reminded me of the crazy invention that Doc wore on his head in Back to the Future when he was trying to read Marty's mind.
"Miss O'Connell, welcome to my cell" Murphy said casually. "I was wondering if you'd stop by.
"Whoa," I replied, still taking in the visual as I would a car-wreck. "Um, I didn't mean to interrupt."
"Oh, not at all. Come on in," Murphy said smiling. His demeanor was unsettling. Almost as if he was genuinely pleased to have company... "Sanura, say hi to our guest." I recalled that Sanura was the traditional African name that Murphy had given her during her his Cedar Square presentation. According to him, it meant kitten.
As expected, Tasha remained silent, keeping her fists clenched as her head continued to glide back and forth over Murphy's cock.
Just then, I saw Murphy's foot press down on a black peddle beneath his foot. I jumped back in surprise as Tasha let out a blood-curdling cock-muffled shriek. My eyes narrowed as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. Upon closer inspection, I was able to make out black cord protruding from Tasha's ass, telling me that she was obviously butt-plugged. And as to be expected at a perverted sex prison operated by sadistic bastards, the wire was undoubtedly connected to the peddle beneath Murphy's restrained foot. A tap of the peddle clearly sent an electric shock or something to the plug.
"I said, say hi to our guest, Sanura," Murphy repeated almost pleasantly.
With her ring-gagged mouth around his cock, Tasha grunted, "Hhgh."
Murphy pressed down again on the peddle, causing Tasha to shriek even louder. "I believe you meant to say, hello, Miss O'Connell," Murphy corrected her.
Tasha groaned loudly and obeyed his directive, "Hhgulg hff ulgogglf!"
"Much better," Murphy complimented her. "I'm sorry," he said, glancing back up at me. "We're still working on our manners."
I wanted so badly to break the no physical contact rule and punch him right in the nose. "How long has she been like that?" I asked.
"Hmm, I'm not sure," he replied. "We're coming up on the end of our hour-long session, wouldn't you say, Sanura?"
Tasha responded with a muffled, "Ulph ell."
Despite my complicated history with Tasha, I felt outraged for her. No woman deserved this kind of sadistic fuckery. And on top of all the sex deeds she was forced to endure, she had to put up with the race shit... Just imagining being in her position was enough to make me want to commit cold-blooded murder.
Hopefully, worshipping old cock wasn't something she had to endure very often, though. I vaguely recalled Tasha telling me that Murphy was not into having sex with her personally. In fact, by her account, he hadn't so much as laid a finger on her other than to rig her up to his machines.
"So, what brings you here to the kennel?" Murphy asked. "If you've come to gloat, I'd understand. But just know- I'm having quite a relaxing time so far."
"Um, no," I replied. "I came to ask some questions. About Katie."
"Ah, yes. Miss Huff," Murphy replied. "Ask away."
"I'd like to know what happened yesterday," I said. "The peach jam. The allergic reaction. The emergency response time."
Murphy nodded slowly, seemingly considering my words. "Are you familiar with the story of the last czar of Russia?" he asked.
"What?" I replied, perplexed by the randomness of his deflection.
"The last czar of Russia," he repeated. "The demise of the Romanov family."
"Sure," I replied dryly. "I saw the movie Anastasia when I was 9."
"The true story of the Romanov's," Murphy clarified crossly. "I figured it went without saying that I wasn't referring to a cartoon musical with talking animals."
"Can't say I'm familiar," I replied impatiently, causing Murphy to sigh in annoyance.
"Nikolai Romanov II ruled Russia at the turn of the 20th century," Murphy explained. "He was a soft-spoken and decent man who cared deeply for his family. When his son became ill, he commissioned the aid of Russia's most renowned doctors. But despite their expertise, the child's condition only worsened. With the boy clinging to life by a thread, the czar's wife called upon a witch doctor with a hypnotic eye by the name of Grigori Rasputin. Where modern medicine failed, Rasputin was able to save the child. Having gained the czar's loyalty and trust, Rasputin was appointed as one of his chief advisors."
Just like his Cedar Square presentation earlier in the week, Murphy really did appear to love the sound of his own voice. He took his time with each word, careful to apply dramatic flair. And adding to the spectacle of it all was Tasha's bobbing head, mechanically sliding back and forth over the storyteller's cock.
"Unlike the czar, however, Rasputin was not a decent man," Murphy continued. "Through calculated manipulation, Rasputin managed to isolate the czar from all other advisors and subordinates until he had become his sole informant. As the czar's right hand, Rasputin fed him a steady diet of untruths and misinformation to keep him distrustful of everyone. He did the same for the czar's wife. As their paranoia grew, their dependency on the witch doctor only magnified. Mysticism and superstition became hallmarks of the czar's political policy. Rasputin even managed to convince Nikolai that he was God's chosen instrument and that all skeptics were physical embodiments of evil who sought his ruin."
I let out a sigh, glancing down at my phone to see the time. I hesitated to say anything snarky on account that I still needed Murphy to answer my questions. And Murphy seemed to notice the patience I afforded to him. Despite the fact that Murphy was the one wearing restraints, he appeared to be relishing the reality that he had a captive audience.
"In short," Murphy continued, "-the public grew increasingly concerned by the czar's lack of leadership. Recognizing the power behind the throne, they orchestrated Rasputin's assassination. With the snake's head cut off from the body, the czar became a sitting duck. He and his family were overthrown, mercilessly tortured, and executed within the week.
I stared at him silently for a moment. "I get the feeling that all of this is supposed to mean something to me," I said dryly.
"And I get the feeling that you're a foolish, naive little girl who is way in over her head," he replied without missing a beat. I stared at him silently for several seconds until he added, "You've been deceived, mighty champion. The witch doctors have you under their spell and you're too dimwitted to even notice.
Their spell? I thought, ignoring the insult. "And in this metaphor of yours, who are the witch doctors exactly?" I asked, placating him.
Murphy chuckled softly, shaking his head side to side. "Anyone with even an ounce of intuition would know that the answer is Annabelle and her protégé."
"Protégé?" I probed.
"You and I know her as Katie Huff," Murphy replied, prompting me to laugh out loud. Murphy cut me off. "Laugh all you'd like. They are two edges of the same sword."
"That's ridiculous," I replied.
"Is it?" Murphy asked.
"Uh, yeah!" I answered, chuckling to myself.
"Let me guess," Murphy continued. "Annabelle awarded you temporary custody of Miss Huff while I'm in here, didn't she?" I didn't reply. "And meanwhile, the girl's wearing a red listening collar?"
I stared back silently, trying not to give away anything with my reactions.
"If you'd like to impale yourself that sword, then go right ahead and underestimate those two," Murphy replied smugly. "But mark my words, we'll end up neighbors in here."
I forced myself to hold my tongue as comebacks about being "impaled" swirled through my head. "What happened with the peach jam?" I asked, bringing the conversation back to the issue I most needed to discuss.
"Peach jam," Murphy mused quietly, chuckling to himself. "Is that what you were told? That the poor little miss had a bad reaction to my homemade jelly?"
"Stop," I said, shaking my head. "Just cut the shit, okay? She had a severe reaction. I saw her at the clinic. Unconscious, red and puffy, pumped full of fluids from an IV drip. You don't fake that shit."
"Oh, you certainly don't," Murphy laughed. "Not without help, anyway."
"You seriously think it was all some sort of hoax?" I asked, suppressing a smirk.
"I know it was," Murphy replied calmly.
"So, you believe that most logical explanation is that Katie and Annabelle hatched some elaborate scheme to frame you for a fake poisoning and then caused a fake reaction that I might oversee should I decide to go visit her in the health clinic?" I asked incredulously. "And why?! So that Annabelle could give me temporary custody of Katie so that she could listen in on our conversations?"
Murphy chuckled. "Certainly sounds more believable than Miss Huff having an severe reaction to an allergen that wasn't listed on her profile until after she saw what I had stocked in my fridge..."
"Ugh, enough with this conspiracy theory bullshit," I said, shaking my head in irritation. "You gave her peach jam. She had an allergic reaction. Period."
"Sure. And Epstein killed himself," Murphy replied smugly. "Case closed."
"Oh god!" I said in exasperation, turning to face the wall. "This is pointless."
"So, there's really no part of you that questions Miss Huff's veracity?" Murphy probed, squinting at me suspiciously. "Nothing that gives you even the slightest pause about any of this?"
I turned back to face him. "She hates Annabelle just as much as I do," I replied defensively. "She would never work with her."
"Hmm. She could have fooled me when I saw the two of them in Annabelle's office the other day," Murphy replied. "The day that Annabelle recommended that I outbid you for Miss Huff at the auction."
I instantly felt the blood drain from my face. "What?" I asked.
"Oh, you didn't know that part?" Murphy laughed. "Yeah, the both of them seemed confident that you'd trade me the castle suite in exchange for Miss Huff. Seems they read you like a book."
"Bullshit," I said back at him, feeling my voice start to shake.
"Why would I lie to you?" Murphy asked, tilting his head.
"Maybe because you're an asshole who likes fucking with people?" I countered defiantly.
"Ah, that make sense," Murphy said sarcastically, nodding his head. "I'd purposely destroy my chances of procuring the coveted castle suite because I want to... fuck with you? An unremarkable, ignorant, scrawny little dimwit. Brilliant plan, I must say."
I glared at him, fuming at the rationality in his argument.
"No," he said shaking his head. "After everything I've been put through here, after all the money my business has lost in sales since I was incarcerated, I'm afraid I've had a change of heart. I think I'd much rather pass on the suite and keep Miss Huff for myself. I'm very much looking forward to interrogating her and learning everything that's in that pretty little head of hers."
Murphy looked up over my shoulder, almost as if living out a fantasy in his mind. "And I'm sure Sanura here would enjoy the company." I saw him tap the peddle with his foot, causing Tasha to let out another cock-muffled shriek.
Just then, the glass door behind me slid open and the security guard stormed in, looking furious.
"Time's up," he said forcefully. "You got way more than five minutes."
"Wait, please-" I protested. "I just need another few-"
"Not a chance," the guard said, surprising me by grabbing my arm tightly and yanking me toward the exit. "You're done here."
"Hey!" I objected, struggling to pull away from him. "Hey, what the hell?!"
He tightened his grip even harder and replied, "And you're lucky I don't toss you into the next cell for the bullshit you pulled in the lobby."
"What?!" I replied. "What bullshit?!"
He stopped and turned toward me with fire in his eyes. "I spoke with the health clinic. Seems they have no record whatsoever of a follow-up visit from your temp. Certainly not two. You made all that shit up."
"Oh..." I replied, blanking on a believable explanation to give him. Murphy's cackle broke the silence, prompting the guard to turn back away and pulled me out of the room behind him.
"So long, champ!" Murphy shouted through his laughter as I was dragged into the hallway. "Enjoy the suite!"
I didn't say anything as I was walked briskly down the long hallway. Once we reached the lobby, the guard threw away my arm forcefully and pointed toward the exit. "Next time I see you back here, I'm detaining you. Understood?" he asked.
"Eat dicks," I spat back childishly before quickly exiting the building.
It had stopped raining but it was still as chilly as it had been that morning. Once I turned onto Centre Street, out of the view of the kennel's glass doors, I rubbed my upper arm in the spot the guard had gripped me. Asshole. I walked carelessly through the puddles on the cobblestone streets as I recounting everything that I'd just heard. Thankfully, my headache had all but disappeared, but I now felt sick with indecision.
I hadn't expected such an explosive Q&A session with Murphy. His resentment towards Annabelle was understandable. She had tossed him into the kennel for something that he believed he didn't do. His animus towards Katie, on the other hand, caught me completely by surprise. And, quite frankly, it posed an entirely new set of problems. Before any of this had transpired, I had every intention of completing my trade with Murphy upon his release. The castle suite in exchange for Katie. Clean and simple. But now, Murphy was convinced that Katie helped orchestrate his demise. And as a result, he appeared highly motivated to make her pay for it...
For Katie's sake, this absolutely terrified me. As much as I wanted to protect her from the wrath of someone like Murphy, I honestly didn't know how I felt about his accusations against her. As with the warnings issued by Alpha, my guttural instinct was to trust Katie. That being said, I'd have been lying to say that Murphy's claims didn't concern me. According to Murphy, he had physically witnessed Katie colluding with Annabelle in her office. What was I supposed to do with that?! And to make matters murkier, I was still unable to answer the one question that could discount Murphy once and for all- What possible benefit was there for Murphy to lie?
My stomach felt sick. Glancing down at my phone, I groaned at the time that read 3:02. Part of my problem was undoubtedly my empty stomach! It never ceased to amazing me how easy it was to forget to eat in this place.
Having grown a bit sick of barbecue sandwiches from Sally's, I glanced around Centre Street, searching for another food option. To my immediate relief, I saw a taco truck about 100 yards away. I quickly jumped in line and, minutes later, scarfed down a giant burrito bowl like I hadn't eaten in a week.
As I ate, I pondered my next move. Despite Murphy's and Alpha's warnings, my impulse was to head straight back to the suite and let Katie know that I was okay. But deep down, I knew it was prudent for me to regroup before seeing her again. And the more I thought things through, the more I recognized how critical it was to have a plan...
Tossing my trash into the nearest can, I headed over to the Apothecary for some items. Since the layout was pretty much the same as it was during the regular season, it didn't take me long to locate what I needed. I quickly checked out with my purchases of a small bottle of Antiseptic skin cleanser, a pack of "fast-acting" Antihistamine tablets and a box of Band-Aids.
From there, I needed someplace private. After all, according to Alpha, there still may have been people watching me... Almost instantly, I realized where I needed to go. Moments later, I found myself back at the inn number 4, knocking on the door to Eric and June's room. Moments later, June opened the door, her eyes widening in genuine shock to see me.
"Jodie! Oh my god, you're okay!" June said frantically.
"Uh, yeah," I replied, caught off-guard. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Katie told me about the chaos at the market! Unreal! I can't believe that happened to you!" June explained.
"Oh, that. Yeah, that was definitely a shit show," I replied dismissively. "Wait, you met Katie?"
"Yeah, at the spa" June replied. "Don't worry- I didn't say anything about this morning. Just that Eric and I know you. She's fuckin' adorable by the way."
"Yeah," I said scratching the back of my head, awkwardly. June was certainly sweet, but she was practically the real-life version of sorority girl and I really didn't have the time or patience for small talk. "Hey, is Eric here?" I asked changing gears.
"Nah, he's out right now," she replied.
"Damn," I replied. "Do you know if he'll be back soon?"
"I don't. Sorry," she answered. "Is there anything I can help with?
"Actually... would you mind if I came in for a second?" I asked.
"Of course not! Come in!" June said, swinging the door all the way open. Once I was inside, she closed the door behind me. "What's going on?" she asked curiously.
"Um..." I replied, not quite knowing how much to share. "I actually just need to use your sink for a minute."
"Uh, sure!" June replied, clearly perplexed but willing to oblige.
Feeling the need to offer a brief explanation, I added, "I'm just really paranoid right now and need somewhere to do something without being seen."
"Oh, I totally get it," June said touching me supportively on the arm. "Living with captain paranoia has even made me start to look compulsively over my shoulder. Knock yourself out," she added, motioning toward the kitchenette countertop. "Actually, let me clear this off first." She walked quickly over to the counter and began shoving all the trash and wrappers off to the side. "Eric asked me to clean this while he was gone, but to tell the truth, I'm kind of excited to see what happens if I don't."
"Ah, I see," I replied, laughing courteously. Kinky people were so weird.
Once the clutter on the counter had been rearranged, June stepped back and said, "There you go!"
"Thanks," I replied, rooting through my bag for the required items. I quickly located the can of peaches, can-opener, the bottle of Antiseptic skin cleanser and laid them all on the counter.
June remained next to me, curiously peering over my shoulder.
"So, what're we doin'?" she asked as I removed the cap of the Antiseptic and hastily dumped the liquid down the drain.
"Um... I'm- it's kind of an experiment," I replied, trying to vaguely answer the question without sounding rude. I then used the can-opener to open the can of peaches. As I twisted the handle, I could feel my face growing flush with shame. I honestly couldn't believe I was doing this... Preparing to perform an induced allergy test on Katie was the last thing I expected to ever do. In fact, only few hours prior, I'd been utterly outraged at Alpha for even suggesting it!
"Coowel," June mused, naively.
Trying my best to ignore June's intrusiveness, I then took the peach can and carefully poured the juice into the small empty bottle. Once the bottle was filled to the top, I reapplied the screw-on cap.
"Alright," I said as I placed the small bottle back into my bag.
"Nice!" June said giddily, staring back up at me from the bottle as if she expected something more. "That's it?"
"That's it," I replied, giving an awkward smile. I could tell that she was confused as hell. "Um, where's your trashcan?" I asked grabbing the can of peaches off the countertop.
"Oh- actually, I'll take care of it," June said, snatching it from my hands and placing it back on the countertop.
I squinted at her skeptically. "You just want to make the counter dirtier for Eric don't you?" I asked, smiling.
June giggled. "Guilty," June said, giving a small curtsey.
This made me laugh out loud.
"Don't judge me!" June said through laughter. "Look- I'm a gigantic pain slut, but Eric's a friggin' softie! I mean, what's a girl gotta do to get spanked around here!" I howled with laughter, making her laugh harder as well. "I'm serious- I've tried everything!"
This girl was too much! The two of us belly-laughed for over a minute until June had to run into the bathroom to avoid "peeing herself". Finally settling down, I wiped the tears from my eyes and caught my breath. Still laughing, June exited the bathroom and rejoined me in the kitchenette.
"Oh gosh, I needed that," I said, shaking my head and smiling ear to ear. As pathetic as it sounded, I really need the laugh. This day had brought yet another steaming mountain of shit and June turned out to be just the break I needed before diving back in.
After a brief pause, June asked in a sober voice, "You gonna be alright?" She'd obviously read through my "tough girl" façade.
I hesitated before flashing a weak smile and nodding. "Yeah," I answered.
"Okay," June replied softly, stepping in for a hug. Oh, boy- I'd forgotten that June was a hugger.
"Us girls gotta stick together," she said squeezing me tight. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
"Thanks, June," I replied, patting her awkwardly on the back. "I appreciate it."
After our long hug, I left the inn and decided to make my way back to the suite. I couldn't put off my return any longer. With my tools now in hand, the time had come to face Katie and get to the bottom of all this shit.
It had started raining again, prompting me to pick up the pace. Tote bag in hand, I marched confidently down Centre Street, hoping that my physical demeanor would help alleviate the uncertainty in my mind. My heart pounded heavily in my chest as I quickly prepared myself for what I needed to do. Reaching the castle steps, I jogged up and reached out to swipe my room key through the box next to the handle.
But right before my card made contact, a loud bang from behind me made me jump. I spun around in time to hear the sound of another bang followed by what sounded like the shattering glass and an ear-piercing alarm bell. Glancing around, I looked frantically for where the sound was coming from. Loud screams could suddenly be heard off one of the side alleys of Centre Street.
Dropping my bag, I suddenly found myself quickly descending the steps and running toward the ruckus. It was almost as if I'd completely forgotten my circumstances entirely and had temporarily reverted back to being Operations Manager at Notts' Faire, racing to manage a crisis.
As I got closer to the commotion, crowds of people could be seen fleeing Baker Lane onto Centre Street. As soon as I rounded the corner, I skidded to an abrupt stop, feeling my heart drop hard in my chest. The large glass window of the building known as the Trading Post had been shattered and a man wearing a security guard uniform laid bleeding in the middle of glass strewn sidewalk. A second security guard had a gun drawn and aimed down at the lying figure while a third guard was kneeling down by his head.
The sound of screams could still be heard from guests as they continued scattering from the scene. Some knocked into me as they past by, but I pressed cautiously forward, eager to get a closer look at the scene which had transpired.
Once I'd gotten close enough to see it all up-close, my knees suddenly felt shaky and my jaw dropped open in pure horror. The bleeding security guard lying on the ground was none other than Alpha.
His eyes were open, but he wasn't moving. The standing guard suddenly stowed his gun and began shouting into his walkie-talkie. The guard kneeling down had two fingers pressed against the side of Alpha's neck. My hands instinctively shot up to my mouth as I saw him look up to his partner and shake his head. His point was clear. Alpha was dead...
Just then, a loud chime blared from the street speakers, followed by an announcement.
"Gentlemen and ladies, we apologize for the inconvenience, but due to hazardous conditions, all guests must return to their rooms immediately. I repeat, all guests must return to their rooms immediately. We will notify you when it is safe to leave. We thank you and offer our deepest apologies for your inconvenience."
The announcement was ended by another loud chime. For several moments, I stood frozen in shock, staring in horror at the sight of Alpha's lifeless body. The rain was pouring down now and a trail of bloody water weaved across the cobblestone street and into the sewer grate. I was too overwhelmed to react. Too shocked to cry. All I could do was stand there silently and watch.
Alpha was dead... This meant that all the hundreds of women he spoke of protecting were also as good as dead. The suitcase no longer seemed relevant. Alpha was the last remaining operative on his team. Without him, his mission had officially failed...
Suddenly, I heard my name shouted from my right. Or rather, Jodie's name was shouted from my right. Snapping out of my catatonic state, I turned my head to see Katie running toward me.
"Jodie!" she said as she collided into me in a full embrace. "Oh my god, are you okay?!" she asked loudly in a trembling voice. I opened my mouth to respond, but the guard holding the walkie-talkie interrupted, suddenly shouting over at us.
"You need to leave!" the guard said forcefully. "Now! Return to your rooms until further notice!"
"Come on," Katie said, grabbing my hand and pulling me away. Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. Over the many years of working at the Renn Faire, I'd experienced quite a lot of crises. But homicide definitely wasn't one of them. This was completely new and terrifying territory for me...
As Katie led me by the hand back to the suite, the chimes and announcement blared once again over the speaker system, causing me to wince from the deafening volume. By the time the announcement finished, we'd made our way back up the castle stairs. Katie quickly unlocked the door, grabbed my tote bag off the stoop, and pulled me side.
Drenched from the rain, we both let out a collective sigh of relief as the door closed behind us. Even though the suite was warm, I couldn't stop my teeth from jittering together.
"I've been so worried about you! Are you okay?" Katie asked, taking my face in her hands. Still in shock, I opened my mouth to respond, but couldn't seem to find the words. "You're freezing," Katie added. "Come over here by the fire."
Katie pulled me by the hand once more and positioned me in front of the fireplace. Kneeling down, she flicked the switch at its base, triggering the gas flames to ignite.
"I'm gonna go get some towels," she added, squeezing my hand before disappearing.
"Okay," I responded too late in barely a whisper. I had never had a nervous breakdown before, but if I had to guess, this was probably the closest I'd ever come to one. So much was happening at once. So much uncertainty. So much danger. My brain felt like it had officially reached its capacity and might just crash if I tried to process any more.
Moments later, Katie returned carrying a stack of towels. She quickly draped several around my shoulders and rubbed my upper arms. "There we go," she said softly. "Go ahead and sit down," she added, motioning over to the black leather armchair beside the fireplace.
"Thanks," I whispered, taking her suggestion to sit down.
She knelt down in front of me and placed her hands on my needs. "I'm so sorry, Jodie," she said. "I should have never tried to return those outfits. Especially without telling you."
"It's okay," I replied dismissively.
"It's not okay. I single-handedly caused this entire mess," Katie argued, shaking her head.
"You were just trying to do the right thing. It's who you are," I replied disingenuously, secretly hoping that the compliment might prompt her to come clean with any other sins that she may or may not be responsible for.
"I didn't want anything to blow back on you," she continued. "I'm not sure if you know, but this is a probationary collar," she said, pointing at the red collar around her neck. "This means that it has a listening device. If anyone overheard our conversation from last night about you accidentally taking the outfits from the market... I just wanted to be able to say that it's been returned and no harm was done."
"I don't blame you," I replied, adding, "It's really nice to have someone looking out for me." I was really doing my best to pull a subtle guilt trip. If Katie was guilty of what Alpha and Murphy claimed she was, there's no way she wasn't squirming inside with shame.
"So, what happened?" Katie asked. "How long were you there before... you know, you passed out?"
"Um... I don't really remember much," I lied. I hesitated, not knowing where or how to begin. The sight of Katie's listening collar was more distracting now than it had ever been.
"I was strapped to the podium thing for about 45 minutes or so. Then, blank," I said, hoping that she wouldn't press for more details.
"I'm so, so sorry, Jodie," Katie said, her eyes curling up at me sympathetically. "That should have been me. Not you."
"It's over now," I said with a forced smile.
"I've been so worried," Katie ranted on. "When you didn't return to the suite, I feared the worse. I went back to the market but they said you'd been taken to the emergency clinic. They wouldn't tell me why or what happened, other than that you'd lost consciousness. But when I went to the clinic, the front desk refused to tell me anything. They wouldn't even confirm that you'd been admitted."
"Well, I ended up getting a clean bill of health," I lied, hoping to wrap up the discussion. "All good."
"What did the doctor say?" Katie pressed. "What was the reason you passed out?"
"Dehydration," I lied, saying the first thing that popped into my head. Almost instantly, however, I realized the 5-hour plot hole this explanation made in my story. Obviously, something as minimal as dehydration didn't need a long emergency visit...
"And you know how they are about keeping patients under observation," I added jokingly. "But apparently, I slept for a really long time as well."
Katie suddenly began shaking her head sternly and pursing her lips together. "Those jerks at the market shouldn't be allowed to get away with what they did," she ranted angrily. "Seriously, there has to be some sort of recourse we can get. It should easily earn them a few days in the kennel. Probably longer."
"I'm just glad it's over," I concluded, trying to convey a sense of finality to the conversation
Katie remained kneeling in front of me, not saying anything for a few seconds. "What can I do?" she asked softly.
Staring into Katie's concerned eyes, I couldn't help but feel guilty about how quiet and dismissive I was being towards her. If she truly was an innocent in all of this, she deserved a hell of a lot more reassurance than I was giving her. But I was emotionally wrecked over everything I'd experienced today. Between my episode at the market, Murphy's accusations and plans, and now Alpha's death, it seriously felt like bees were swarming around in my head.
I smiled and shook my head. "Nothing," I replied, taking her hands in mine. "It's just... it's been a really hard day."
Katie nodded before bending over and softly kissing my hand. It was at this moment that I remembered cuts around the edges of her wrists. The ones that came about from the zip-ties that Roger had restrained her with at the market.
Lifting her hands up, I winced as I took a closer look at the bright red cuts. Thanks to the precipitation outside, the cuts still looked fresh, and hadn't formed scabs yet. "Ouch," I said softly. "That looks painful."
"Oh, I'm fine," Katie said dismissively. "Tis but a flesh wound," she added jokingly in a terrible British accent.
"Actually," I said, standing to my feet with the towels still wrapped around me, "I picked something to help with that on my way back." As I walked over to where Katie had placed the tote bag, my heart began to race.
"Aw," Katie replied. "That was sweet of you."
I ignored her, suddenly feeling overcome with shame and second thoughts. Sitting at the top of the bag, I quickly located the Antihistamine tablets and stowed them in my pocket. Next item to be pulled from the bag was the small bottle of Antiseptic skin care that I'd replaced with peach juice.
In a full 180 decision, I was officially about to perform an induced allergy test on Katie without her knowledge or consent. As I walked back over to her, I began to unscrew the bottle's cap. This was easier said than done, given the fact that my hands were now trembling.
Sitting back down on the chair in front of Katie, I placed the cap on the end table beside me and pulled one of the towels off of my shoulders.
"Thanks for thinking of me," Katie said smiling. "You really are the best."
I said nothing as I carefully dipped the corner of the towel into the bottle. My heart was now pounding out of my chest. I couldn't believe I was doing this. I officially felt like the world's shittiest person. What had happened to me? I was effectively poisoning this girl while she thanked and complimented me for doing it...
"This may sting a little," I lied in a shaky whisper.
Holding Katie's left wrist, I lifted the towel with my other hand and inched the peach-juice soaked corner of the towel towards her exposed cut. I held my breath as I made contact, dabbing the wound lightly from left to right.
Katie remained silent as I finished and moved on to her other wrist. Dipping the towel back into the liquid, I repeated the process of lightly dabbing the fresh cut on her adjacent wrist. The only thing that made me feel slightly better about all of this was the reality that each cut couldn't have been longer than an inch wide. I silently prayed that this would only cause the tiniest of reactions.
"All done," I said, avoiding eye contact with her. Tossing the towel back over my shoulder, I quickly grabbed the bottle and lid off of the end table beside me and screwed it tight. "Once that dries, I've got some Band-Aids."
Just then, Katie craned her head upward and surprised me with a kiss on my lips. I had honestly never felt more conflicted in my entire life. Not wanting to hurt Katie's feelings, I returned her kiss. Not passionately, but enough to show my appreciation. Damn, I was a piece of shit, I thought to myself. Seriously, I thought to myself. This must be what a actual piece of shit feels like.
After a few more seconds, I broke off the kiss and stood up. "I'll be right back," I whispered, putting the bottle into my pocket. "Gotta use the bathroom."
"Okay," Katie replied obliviously with a smile.
I needed space. I needed time by myself. I had no idea how long it would take for Katie to have her allergic reaction, but I didn't trust my abilities to communicate casually until that happened. Even a stranger could have deduced that I wasn't behaving normally. Fortunately, Katie didn't show any signs of suspicion. But, then again, that could have just been because she was so nice...
Closing the bathroom door behind me, I leaned with my back against the door and slid to the floor. Please don't let Katie's reaction be severe, I prayed silently. Please don't let her be lying. Between the two possibilities, I was honestly not sure which outcome I preferred. If she was hurt, I could always rush her back to the clinic. But if she didn't react at all... that meant she was one of the bad guys. And then what?
As I sat on the floor, I pulled out my phone and googled how long this sort of test was supposed to take. After only a few seconds of research, I learned that its medical name was an "intradermal allergen test" and they could take anywhere up to 15 minutes. I sighed and let the back of my head thud into the door. Clearly, I had some time to kill.
I spent the next 10 minutes looking at various pictures of allergic reactions and researching the appropriate medical action. I could hear Katie futzing around in the kitchen, but every so often, there would be a period of silence, prompting me to press my ear against the door out of concern. To my relief, it was never long before I heard her humming to herself, opening and closing a cabinet door, or starting the drying machine.
Roughly 13 minutes into my hiatus, I decided I couldn't wait any longer and stood to my feet. The suspense of learning the truth about Katie was literally killing me. It felt similar what I imagined cancer patients must feel as they sit in the doctor's lobby awaiting their test results.
To maintain appearances, I flushed and then proceeded to run the water in the sink as if I were washing my hands. Then, I took a deep breath and exited the bathroom. My heart raced as I reentered the great room, unsure of how the next couple seconds would play out.
"Hey you," Katie said smiling from behind the kitchen counter. She held out a mug and asked. "How 'bout some coffee?"
I forced a smile and approached her. "Thanks," I replied softly. As I approached her, I tried to look at Katie's wrists, but they were hidden beneath the sleeves of the robe that she was now wearing. Taking the mug from her, I pretended to take a sip.
"Why don't you take your clothes off so I can toss them into the dryer with mine," Katie suggested. "I grabbed you another robe from the closet."
"Um... sure. Good idea," I replied, trying to respond how I normally would. Placing the mug onto the countertop, I began to remove my jacket and my waterlogged boots. It felt awkward undressing in front of Katie. Just the night prior, the two of us had made passionate love, but over the course of 15 hours, quite a lot had changed.
Eager to fill the silence, I asked, "So, how was the spa?"
Katie finished taking a gulp from her mug of coffee before replying, "It was amazing. I mean, I cried for probably the first hour and a half, but once I got settled down, it was really nice. Got my nails done." Katie suddenly held out her hands over the island counter showing off her freshly painted burgundy nails.
This was my moment to look at her wrists. To see her allergic reaction or lack thereof. Heart pounding, I stepped forward and took her hands in mine.
"Very pretty," I mused. After a few seconds, I turned her hands over palms up to reveal her wrists. What I saw next caused all the blood to instantly drain from my face. Nothing. There was no swelling, no irritation, no discoloring, no sign of anything abnormal. Absolutely nothing...
I dropped Katie's hands and lifted my gaze to her. Clearly sensing a problem, the smile on her face vanished and was immediately replaced by an expression of concern.
"What's wrong?" she asked. I continued staring at her, feeling my breathing grow faster. "Jodie?" she probed.
"Why have you been lying to me?" I asked in a low voice.
Katie's eyes grew twice her normal size and mouth dropped. "What?" she asked
"Your allergy," I clarified. "Why'd you lie about it?"
"Why did I lie about what?" Katie asked, looking completely bewildered. "Jodie, what are you talking about?"
"You're not allergic to peaches." I said forcefully. "Tell me why you lied."
Katie's mouth hung open, clearly lost for words.
"Why?!" I yelled, making her flinch.
"I- I didn't make it up," Katie stammered. "I am allergic to peaches. I swear."
"Bullshit," I replied, stepping around the counter towards her.
"Jodie, I- I don't understand," she said looking frazzled. "You saw me in the clinic. You were there when the doctor came. How- how could make something like that up?"
"Let's pretend you are actually allergic to peaches," I placated her loudly. "How allergic are you, exactly?"
Katie looked distraught. "Jodie, where is this coming from?!" she asked.
"Is it only you eat them?" I pressed forward condescendingly. "Or is it one of those severe allergies that restricts the entire plane from eating peaches?
"It's extremely severe," Katie contended. "Even the smell could send me into anaphylactic shock."
I stuffed my hand into my pocket and pulled out the bottle filled with peach juice. Slamming it on the counter, I countered, "Then why the hell aren't you horizontal right now?!" Katie blinked in confusion, staring at the bottle. "This is peach juice, Katie!"
With a horrified expression, Katie looked back up at me. Grabbing her wrists, she reacted aggressively for the first time. "You... you poisoned me?!" She asked.
"Clearly not!" I shouted back. "Because, look at you! Healthy as a horse! Not even a hint of a reaction!"
"That- that could have killed me!" Katie responded, her face turning rapidly from hurt to outraged.
"Yeah, well, I guess it's a good thing you're not allergic to peaches, huh?!!" I screamed at her. I was fuming. My heart was pounding out of my chest and my ears felt as if they were on fire.
"I can't believe you did that," Katie whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
"Oh, save the theatrics!" I said spinning and storming away from her. "I see through it all now! I know everything!"
"What- what does that mean?!" Katie challenged.
"Everything! I know that your profile listed no allergies at the time of the auction! I know that it was altered to include peaches only after you were taken into Murphy's custody! I know that you and Annabelle met with Murphy in her office before the auction and advised Murphy to outbid me!" I spoke quickly, listing off the items one after the other. Spinning back to face her, I concluded, "And I know that the three of you accurately predicted that I would do whatever it took to get you back!"
Katie shook her head from side to side, tears rolling down her cheek. "That's not how it happened," she pleaded in a broken voice.
"I don't believe you!!!" I shrieked, using my hands as props. "You said it yourself! If you were so allergic, then the juice in this bottle should've killed you!!" Katie was breathing heavily now. "So, why are you still standing?!!"
Katie opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
"Why?!!" I screamed again, making her flinch.
"Maybe- it wasn't really pea-" she suggested quietly before I interrupted her.
"Oh come off it!!" I countered. "I got it straight out of a can of peaches!! It's been over 15 minutes and nothing's changed! How do you explain that?!!"
Katie blinked, shaking her head. "I-I," she stammered in almost a whisper.
"Of course you can't explain it!" I shot back. "Because you've been lying to me from the get go!!" Katie's face was now red and covered in streak marks from her tears. As angry and hurt as I was, seeing her cry only caused my eyes to well up with tears as well. "Annabelle needed someone to spy on me and you were her in!!"
"No," Katie whispered, still shaking her head.
"Every word, every syllable I uttered in front of you was transmitted directly to Annabelle's laptop!" I yelled.
"Jodie-" Katie tried to interject.
"And you were ordered to keep me talking! Is that how worked?!" I asked.
"I swear to you- I didn't plan any of this," Katie said softly.
"So, Annabelle was the brains and you just went along with it?!" I asked, persistently.
Katie buried her face in her hands and began to sob.
"Is that what you're saying, Katie?!" I pressed her. "Does that sound about right, Annabelle?!!" I directed towards her collar, leaning towards her.
Katie wailed into her hands and sat onto the stool next to the kitchen island. I looked away, desperate to chase away my empathetic tendencies. I couldn't afford to be suckered any more than I already had. No matter what feelings I may have had for her, this girl was my enemy. Someone not to be trusted under any circumstances.
"I promise you," Katie said breathily between sobs, "What you're saying isn't true. I would never do those things."
I shook my head and replied. "I wish I could believe that." Katie continued to ball and I continued to embrace my inner heart of stone.
"I trusted you," I added, hearing my voice crack. Katie lifted her face from her hands to look at me but said nothing. For a moment, we both just stared at the other, each searching for words left unsaid. Eventually, I broke the silence.
"I'd like for you to leave," I said softly.
Katie's eyebrows raised.
"This is over, Katie," I reiterated, shaking my head. "It's time we all stopped pretending and went back where we belong."
Still crying, Katie tilted her head, clearly unsure of what I meant.
"Once you're back in the custody of the kennel, I'll be leaving the Kingdom," I said, looking down at the floor. Even as I said it, I had difficulty believing it. It was almost as if I was listening to someone else say the words.
Katie's buried her face once more into her hands and resumed sobbing. I bit my lower lip to prevent myself from joining her. I couldn't believe this was happening. After the connection I'd felt with her, after our history of having each other's backs and bailing each other out of trouble, and now after the intimate night we'd shared together... I just... never imagined it would all end like this...
After another minute of crying, Katie mopped her face with her hands and stood to her feet. Quietly, she walked over to the laundry machine, dropped her robe to the floor, and began dressing herself back into her damp clothing and shoes.
Stepping back over to me, she said, "I wish you the very best, Jodie." Her voice was horse and sounded barely louder than a whisper. "I really do."
I forced myself to look away as tear rolled down my cheek. Once it became clear to Katie that I was not responding, she walked past me toward the front door. Every fiber of my being wanted to call after her. To stop her. To sit her down and talk things through from the beginning. To find a hole in my accusations and fill it with misplaced trust. But I knew I couldn't allow myself to do it. I recognized how irresponsible it would be to choose heart over head. This break was simply unfixable.
The moment I heard the door click shut, I felt my heart of stone shatter into a million pieces. I couldn't ever recall such a devastating goodbye. No breakup from my past had ever felt quite as horrible. Collapsing onto the stool next to the one Katie had occupied, I began to cry. Not as hysterically as she had, but still plenty distraught.
I continued crying for some time thereafter until I was finally able to reel in my emotions and pull myself together. Standing up, I walked over to the sink and blew my nose loudly into a paper towel. Time to blow this joint.
Just then, I felt my phone buzz. Pulling it out, I saw a new notification at the top of my screen. It read:
Message from The Kennel:
PROBATIONARY STATUS FOR KATIE HUFF HAS BEEN REVOKED. REMANDED TO KENNEL AT 5:01PM.
Not wanting to risk restarting the waterworks, I quickly moved to turn the screen off. But just before my finger touched the power button, my eye caught two more notifications beneath the Kennel's that I'd obviously missed from earlier. Both were from Eric. Tapping on the top notification, it expanded to read:
Message from Eric Chei:
Finished the sweep and the suite's clean as a whistle. No bugs discovered. Oh- a woman came by and dropped off...
Swipe down to read more
...a delivery for you. I left everything in the entry hall closet.
P.S. I ran out of time to swim. Just know that I WILL be taking a rain-check ;)
Delivery? I wondered. My eyes glanced down the entry hall toward the closet. I'd honestly forgotten the closet was even there. But more importantly, why was I getting deliveries and who was it from? Stowing my phone in my pocket, I walked over and pulled the door open.
What I saw next nearly caused my jaw to drop to the floor and my skin to turn ice-cold. Propped against the side of the closet were my bags of purchased clothing as well as the infamous, hard-shelled suitcase. The one that Alpha had lost his life trying to apprehend from the Trading Post.
Feeling my anxiety rapidly returning to me, I slammed the closet door shut, staring wide-eyed straight ahead.
"Holy fuck!" I said out loud. Taking a deep breath, I slowly reopened the door and studied the large suitcase for several seconds. You have GOT to be kidding me, I thought.
On top of the suitcase was a manila envelope with a pink post-it note. I picked up the envelope and began reading the neat cursive handwriting:
Jodie- inside is the deed to the suite as well as custody papers for Miss Huff. All that's needed to complete the exchange is to sign and notarize the documents. This can be done in person at the Trading Post or at any of the of the locations listed under the "Trading" tab in the Kingdom app. And to reiterate our conversation, if you're trading the suite, you'll need a new residence in order to assume custody of Miss Huff. Cheers,
-Laura Asher
I reread the note, and then proceeded to pull out the deed and custody documents from the envelope. My mind was distracted as I skimmed through the documents. I still couldn't get over how the suitcase had somehow landed back in my possession. I'd never been a big believer in fate, but this damn suitcase was really starting to give me second thoughts...
Staring at the suitcase for nearly a minute, I could do little more than shake my head in disbelief. What the hell was I supposed to do with it? I wondered. I was literally about to walk out the door!
Glancing back down at my phone, out of sheer curiosity, I tapped on the second of Eric's notifications, which expanded to read:
Message from Eric Chei:
So... We need to talk. Are you free???
As I read his message, a light bulb suddenly went off in my mind. I tapped the reply button beneath his message, which opened a chat window in the Kingdom app. Stuffing the documents and envelope under my arm, I typed back, "I'm available now. Can you meet at the suite?" In mere seconds, a reply appeared on my screen that read, "Be there in 3!"
Stowing my phone in my pocket I closed the closet door again and walked back into the kitchen. Tossing the documents on the kitchen island, I stepped into the bathroom to straighten myself up. I groaned as I saw my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were red and puffy, my cheeks were tear-streaked, and my hair was still matted from the rain. Quickly splashing water in my face, I quickly attempted to make myself look not so disheveled and chaotic.
After pulling my hair into a new ponytail, I exited the bathroom and passed the next minute scrolling through the "Trading Tab" in the Kingdom app on my phone.
Literally three minutes after I received Eric's message, I heard a knock at the door. I walked quickly back into the entry hall and opened the door to reveal Eric, wearing a yellow poncho. It was still pouring but the sky had gotten dark.
"Hey," Eric said, urgently brushing past me out of the rain. "Phew!" he added as I shut the door behind him. "It's nasty out there!"
"Looks it," I replied, courteously. "Want a towel or something?" I offered.
"Oh, I'm fine," Eric replied as he pulled his poncho off over his head. "These puppies do the trick pretty well."
"Well, come in," I said, walking into the kitchen and taking a seat at the island.
Eric tossed his poncho on the coat-rack next to the door and quickly joined me.
Without saying anything, I picked up the suite deed off the counter and held it out to him. A confused expression spread across his face as he took the document.
"What's this?" he asked, studying the papers
"The deed to the suite," I replied matter-of-factly. "It's yours." Eric looked up at me with a look of utter bewilderment. "I'm leaving," I added.
"Um... what?" Eric replied.
"Tonight," I clarified. "The Trading Post is closed, but if you follow me to the concierge, I can transfer the suite over to you when I officially checkout.
"Hold up," Eric said, shaking his head in disbelief as he laid the paperwork back on the table. "This morning, you commissioned my help to run a surveillance sweep and look into a mysterious web-link that you found. And now you're leaving?"
"Yep," I said resolutely, nodding my head. "There's... a lot you're not aware of. Things I'd rather not get into." I looked away, adding, "I've officially reached my threshold for crazy and I just need to get the hell out."
"So... you have no interest in hearing what I found out today? About the suite?" he probed. I shook my head. "The link?" I continued shaking my head. "About any of it?"
"I don't," I replied calmly. "I really appreciate all your help, but I'm moving on now. I'm sorry, Eric. I'm just done. I have to be."
After staring at me for a few seconds, seemingly speechless, Eric picked up the deed again and began skimming it over.
"You realize that by leaving, you'll lose all of your winnings from the hunt, right?" He asked, still staring at the paperwork.
"Yep," I answered quietly.
"And you understand that the Katie chick can't come with you?" He added.
"I am... totally fine with that," I answered truthfully. "Bitch is back in the kennel where she belongs." To my surprise, speaking this way about Katie didn't make me feel any better. As much as I was hurting, there was still a part of me that wanted to remember the sweet, kind, and trustworthy Katie that I thought I knew.
Eric gave a deep sigh as he continued staring at the paperwork in his hands. To my irritation, he didn't seem the appreciative of my gift. Instead, his reaction appeared to be one of utter bewilderment and irritation.
"So, what do you say?" I asked with a small smile. "You want unlimited pool access or not?"
Eric glanced back up at me from over the paperwork and said nothing for several seconds.
"Okay," he blurted out suddenly, laying the paperwork down and standing abruptly to his feet. "I'm already regretting doing this, because we both know how badly I'd love unlimited pool access. But there are things you need to know."
"Eric-" I countered, shaking my head.
"Just hear me out," Eric interjected forcefully. "Clearly, I don't know everything that's going on, and quite frankly, I don't need to know. It's not my business. But what I found out today- I think you need to hear it."
Frustrated by his persistence, I too stood up and stepped away from the table. "Look, I'm leaving. As in, right now," I said. "If you want the suite, you can come with. But I'm going."
"The link was a fake," Eric blurted out. For a second, the two of us just stared at each other.
"What?" I asked, shaking my head.
"The link," Eric reiterated. "The one you found with Katie's old profile- it was a forgery. Whoever uploaded it created an unsecured domain name to make the file look like something from the Kingdom's archives."
Irritated that he'd successfully piqued my interest, I stood there silently and waited for him to expand. When he didn't, I replied, "Why would-"
"I have no idea," Eric interrupted me. "It's been annoying the hell out of me all afternoon. What I do know is that both the phony profile and domain were created last night around midnight and that the profile in question was the domain's sole web element."
"Meaning...," I asked.
"What that means," Eric explained patiently, "Or at least what it looks like-is that someone was messing with you. Sending you down rabbit holes to trigger your paranoia."
My mind raced to contemplate what he was saying. "No," I replied, shaking my head. "That's a stretch."
"I do this for a living, Jodie. I can assure you that the profile was a forgery," Eric replied earnestly. "Why would someone do that?"
I opened my mouth, but could offer no explanation.
"Please be honest with me," Eric continued. "Where did you get that link?"
I looked away, unclear of how to answer.
"Did someone send it to you in a private message?" He asked.
I hesitated before giving a small nod.
"Who?" he pressed.
"It... didn't show a name," I replied. "The sender ID just said 01." For a few seconds, Eric said nothing. He was clearly weighing his next words carefully.
"June said you came by the room this afternoon," he said in a softer voice. "She told me about your little... project in the kitchen. Transferring juice into a bottle?"
"I really don't want to talk about it," I replied, trying to force it from my mind. I did not want to start crying again. But I could tell by Eric's expression that he wanted me to elaborate.
"Look-" I explained angrily, suddenly feeling that all-too familiar pre-cry sensation in the back of my throat. "I wanted to see for myself if Katie was actually allergic to peaches. So I took peach juice from a can of peaches and dabbed a little into cuts she had on her hands. Spoiler alert- she wasn't allergic! Okay?! She lied!"
I looked away from Eric trying desperately to avoid another emotional episode.
I really did not want to start crying again dammit! I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from losing it.
Eric didn't react for a moment, but rather stepped in closer to me. For a split second, I thought he was going to make the mistake of trying to give me a hug. But to my relief, he didn't touch me. Instead, his next words sounded soft and sympathetic.
"I figured that's what you were doing," Eric said softly. "And the can that you got the juice from- was that given to you by the same person who sent you the link?"
I nodded, keeping my focus on the far wall as my eyes welled up once more with tears.
Eric sighed before responding, "I was afraid of that." I looked back at him. His eyes looked sympathetic and heavy. "Jodie, what you tested on Katie wasn't peach juice." Perplexed, I turned and met his gaze. "Those were canned apricots."
My stomach suddenly dropped as if I were on a roller coaster. "What?" I whispered as a tear rolled down my cheek. For a moment, Eric said nothing, allowing his words to sink in. "No," I rebutted, "I saw them. They were peaches!"
"Peaches and apricots look virtually identical. Especially when they've been peeled and sliced," Eric explained softly. "But they actually belong to completely different families of fruit." Unable to speak, my jaw opened in horror. "Unless Katie was also allergic to apricots, she wouldn't have had a reaction."
Unable to speak, I merely shook my head in disbelief.
"I tasted it myself, Jodie," Eric answered. "I'm sorry."
For a moment, I was frozen, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to breath. I felt as if the room was spinning around me and I was losing my balance.
"Oh god," I uttered before feeling my knees buckle beneath my weight. With lightning-quick reflexes, Eric stepped forward and caught me mid-fall. No longer able to compose myself, the flood-gates opened and I started to wail.
With surprising strength for someone of his size, Eric lifted me up into the air and carried me over to the couch.
"It's okay," Eric whispered as he laid me down gently. "It's okay."
I continued to sob miserably while curling into a fetal position on my side.
"I'm sure nothing's been broken that can't be fixed," he said reassuringly.
I knew deep down that he was mistaken. There was little to no chance that the kennel would return Katie back to my temporary custody after my little stunt earlier. And even if they were willing, Katie surely wouldn't be. After how I'd treated her, how I'd falsely accused her and thrown her to the wolves... It seemed unlikely that she'd ever want to see me again. I couldn't see how there was any way to repair the damage I'd caused...
What made everything worse was the realization that I had single-handedly caused this entire mess. This truly was a fitting end to my tale. The inevitable culmination of a week filled mistakes and arrogant underestimations.
I continued to sob uncontrollably into the couch cushions as Eric laid a throw blanket on top of me. I was inconsolable. I honestly couldn't recall crying this hard in years. Not since Uncle Henry had passed.
"Can I get you anything?" He asked courteously as he leaned over.
"No," I whispered between sobs.
"Okay," he replied softly as he straightened up. "I'm gonna go, then. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything," he added. "I mean it." I nodded as I continued to cry. "I'll check up on you in the morning," Eric added before walking back toward the front door.
A few moments later, I heard Eric say, "Try to get some sleep." And with that, the door closed, signaling that I was alone once again. I wailed for a good several hours. Each time I started to settle down, the image of Katie's horrified and confused face popped into my head, causing the water works to reset back to the beginning. As miserable as I was, I couldn't help but wonder how awful she felt, having to experience her pain in a place as horrible the kennel...
I despised myself. Probably even more than I despised Alpha. Even though Alpha had manipulated and deceived me, the more accurate truth was that I'd allowed myself to be played. I was the fool who walked right into his trap with open arms.
Alpha had been the real villain all along. Not Katie. Not even Annabelle. Alpha. He orchestrated this entire farce from the beginning. And just like Rasputin from Murphy's story, Alpha had meticulously manipulated me into doubting everyone around me until he'd become my sole advisor. The one person who I'd feel comfortable confiding in and providing with the information that he so desperately needed.
And just as the Czar fell immediately after Rasputin death, my own demise arrived swiftly on the heels of Alpha's. And to cap off the story's chilling parallels, Katie's subsequent suffering would inexplicably bring new meaning to the haunting words of Mick Jagger when he famously sang of how "Anastasia screamed in vain"...
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