Chapter 1

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, NonConsensual, Slavery, Fiction, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Sex Toys, Caution, .

Desc: BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1 - This is the continuation of Willow. Slavery is practiced by the rich and encouraged by the government. Heather is just beginning her journey in bondage while Willow continues her adventures. Both are guided by Page who experiences challenges all her own. Will Lord Blackmon return? Will the evil Master Lobo find Page? Who is Madame Carronade? How will Carl be changed by his experiences? Read and find out!

They had used three cans of spray paint and were working on the fourth when Bryan suggested they "burn one" before leaving. He said the smell of pot would be just the right touch on top of the insulting graffiti they were leaving on the cafeteria wall.

The six teens were from a rival high school and they wanted to prank the enemy before the big game. It had taken a collapsible ladder and a cordless drill to slip in through a skylight. The three football players, two cheerleaders and a member of the gymnastics team took ten minutes to cover one whole wall with a dozen taunts for their hated rivals. Bryan passing around a joint further delayed their exit. But all four moved back up the ladder quickly when a stoned Tony decided to use the lighter on the paper of the bulletin board and the flames began to spread. The fire alarm was wailing before they were all back on the roof. They grabbed the ladder and swung it back to the wall so they could ease it down to the ground to complete their escape. The task was made much easier by the helpful policeman waiting below. The vandals had tripped the motion detectors and the police had been summoned long before the fire department had been alerted. All six watched in handcuffs as the firemen put out the fire.

The judge threw the book at the six teens. The boys were put on probation, expelled from school and fined for their part of the damage done. Two of the girls, Tory and Shauna, were eighteen and were enslaved by summary judgment to pay for the damages. After being enslaved, the two girls were to be made examples. The next day they were led around their school naked and chained, and then the two cheerleaders were taken to the courtyard of their school and placed in pillories facing each other. All of the students were released from class to watch the proceedings.

"We will not tolerate destructive behavior," the principle of the school, Mr.Pettygrew, told the assemble students. "It saddens me to think that some people in our community might associate our fine institution of learning with such base and shameful acts. I have invited the principle of the school that was so rudely attacked here to see and participate in our apology and act of contrition. Principle Stanus, would you come forward?" A rail thin man with curly red hair stepped forward. "Please sir, on behalf of all the faculty, staff, and students here, please accept our apology and gift to you. Choose which you would prefer."

Tory was the captain of the cheerleaders and the most popular girl in the school. Her blonde hair normally was in a perky pony-tail on top of her head, but now it hung down past her face. Principle Stanus walked up to the pillory and gathered her hair in his fist. He pulled her head up and forced her to look at him. "I understand from the judge that this little raid was your idea." Tory tried to nod. "I have good news. The judge gave me first choice on who could purchase you. You are going back with me.

"Let me tell you about your new life. You will live at the school, eating the garbage slop from the cafeteria, and wash off in the gym locker room. You will wear nothing but a chastity belt and I will have the key. I will give you out as a reward for good work. You will service every teacher and staff member that I want to show gratitude. They get so little thanks for their hard work. Also, as a reward for their academic achievements, our nerds and geeks will get you too. We will assign one of them to take care of you and lead you around on your leash; it will help with their social status.

"While your pussy and ass are locked away by me, your mouth will be available for fund-raising California banned bake sales and cookie sales on campus but said nothing about blow-jobs I am hoping that after you pay back the PTA for your purchase that you can raise enough money for new lights for the football field. And don't worry about missing the big game. We will tie you spread eagle to the score board." He then dropped her hair and her tear streaked face was hidden again.

Principle Stanus then went to Shauna. Her mocha skin was already covered in a sheen of sweat. "You my dear were headed to San Francisco to be sold at the criminal court slave auction there but the fates intervened. The judge asked if I would let you go for a discounted price if it was for a good cause. I agreed.

"I have been told you are good at making new friends. You are going to San Quentin Prison. You see, there is a pilot program being instituted at San Quinton; one where they are exploring the idea of rewarding prisoners for good behavior, rather than just punishing them for bad behavior. You are going to be the positive reinforcement for good behavior for thousands of convicted felons. You will make so many new friends.

"There are men there that have not seen a girl in decades. I am told that, just before lights out, they will march you to a cell with three or four well behaved convicts and lock you inside until morning. The whole cell block will listen and be jealous as you provide positive reinforcement for those four again and again. Everyone who hears, well ... whatever sounds you make, will want to behave better too.

"You will do this every night until you are put into a cell with someone who thinks it would be more fun to kill you than fuck you, or kill you then fuck you! My guess is that quite soon you will be begging for one of them to kill you. However it will not happen soon. Think of what would happen to the prisoner that kills everyone's piece of ass?

"But before that happens we all want a taste first." He stepped behind the girl and took out his hard cock. His grunt of pleasure was drowned out by Shauna's scream. A moment later Tory issued a similar scream as Mr. Pettygrew violated her. Five staff members from each of the two schools were lined up behind their respective principals to take their turn at administering the first phase of the girl's punishment.

Of course watching all of this was the third girl, the gymnast. She was not yet eighteen and could not be enslaved until then. But the judge had sentenced her to that fate with the understanding that, like the others, her sale price would also help pay the fines. While she watched the two being ravaged, four different guys came up to her and said they were looking forward to her being up for sale. One even indicated that he would make sure she shared the same public fate as the two currently being savaged in the courtyard. Heather barely made it to the trash can before vomiting.

Her parents retained an attorney to help. While there was no way to avoid the enslavement, options could be explored. The sale of the two had not netted an equal share of the damages, and that created an opening. The attorney approached the judge with a deal. Heather would pay the remainder of the damages, more than triple the amount the others had paid, in exchange for a contract of enslavement to her family. The judge approved the deal but with the stipulation that a third party licensed slave broker would be the one holding the contract and that the parents could not purchase her. Heather and her parents reluctantly agreed.

The attorney contacted Sea Grove, one of the most important slave training and merchandise houses in California. The owner, Madame Carronade, was someone he had dealt with before, and she agreed to interview Heather to determine if she was suitable. While Heather was fit and pretty, she might not be up to the very high standards Madame Carronade's clients demanded. The court and fine costs were high and Madame Carronade was not sure she could recoup those costs and make a profit. However Heather struck a deal of her own. She would work for Madame Carronade until all of the debt was paid, thus delaying her enslavement, and afterwards she would cost Madame Carronade nothing. Heather would go to Sea Grove and escape the rapacious boys at the school. The Madame agreed. Heather dropped out of school, it was now pointless, and went to work for Madame Carronade at the Nimitz Casino and Hotel on Treasure Island in San Francisco Bay.


It was at the Nimitz, eighteen months after breaking into the school, that Heather met Carl, Page and Willow. She had just over five thousand dollars she still owed to Madame Carronade before they would enslave her. Carl had given her a six thousand dollar tip. There would be no more delay.

She had decided months before that, once she got close to paying off her debt to Madame Carronade, she would try to run away. She even had a plan. The food delivery trucks came to The Nimitz each night bringing fresh produce and what other supplies that were needed for the next day. They left around five a.m. and she was not busy then. She was sure she could slip into one of the trucks and be in Oakland or even Stockton before someone noticed her missing.

The main problem had been money. Carl's six thousand dollar tip would have given Heather the means to run if she could have slipped away with it. The chips would have been traded for cash, a few thousand to find a new home and a new life.

Instead, the mistress had shown up, ordered her taken with everyone else and her tip taken to the cashier's window. The money went in her employee account, which spit out a notice that the debt was paid off and that Heather needed to fulfill the other part of her bargain.

She was brought to Madame Carronade's home with Carl and the other two slaves. Simon, the head trainer for Sea Grove, had led her away from her new friends and down a flight of stairs. This area was clearly meant for the training and display of slaves. Cages occupied part of one wall while a St. Andrew's cross and whipping post occupied another. Simon took her to the heavy wooden whipping post and secured her hands above her head. Heather began to weep. She knew that pleading with Simon would accomplish nothing. She had seen and heard it before.

Without a word to her, Simon picked up a tool meant to cut heavy carpet and proceeded to cut all of her clothes away. Once she was completely naked, he walked over to a shelf and picked up an advanced pregnancy test stick and an electric cattle prod. "I looked again at your records," Simon told her. "It has been a year and a half since your parents signed you over to us, and you turned eighteen eight months ago. You enjoyed quite a while free. Well that is all over." Simon walked back to Heather but stepped to the side and held the stick near her pussy, "Piss on the stick." Simon waited for a moment then said, "Many new slaves do not obey this first command. That is what the cattle prod is for." Heather had no trouble initiating a stream just from the fear.

Simon went back to the shelf with the test strip and plugged it into a reader. A few beeps and taps on the keyboard later Simon turned back to her. "You are now in the system as a slave, but..." Simon paused like the next thing he had to say left a bad taste in his mouth. "Madame is giving you a choice girl, maybe the last choice you will ever have for the rest of your life."

Simon walked toward the shaking girl. He had been the terror in Heather's nightmares for a year and a half. She knew his reputation and had seen him in action more than once at the Nimitz. She was fated to be broken under his whip and she knew it. "The mistress would like to give your friend Master Carl the gift of a slave. So, you can begin your enslavement and training at Sea Grove tomorrow as per the agreement. The other option is to be that gift to Master Carl. I am not sure why you have been given a choice, but there it is. So, which will it be? Would you be his slave or ours?"

Her knocking knees spoke for her as much as her voice, "Master Carl please."

An hour later she was kneeling, bound, naked and hooded, when Carl, Willow and Page entered the guest suite. Heather listened as Madame Carronade presented Heather as a gift to Master Carl.

She wondered if the man would rape her right then. She had witnessed some slave initiations while working at the casino. Many wanted to show off or share their new purchase very publicly. Instead Carl ordered her released, fed and allowed to rest.

A few hours later as Carl and Page were led into an audience with Madame Carronade again while Willow and Heather were told to wait in the hall. The guard escorting the group bound Willow's and Heather's hands, "Keel and be silent,"

Heather was trembling all over. She had been living with the fear of this day for a year and a half, but it was still shocking. She was naked and kneeling next to another naked girl. Her time at the Nimitz had made the sight of naked women in public less traumatic, but now that she was one of them the jarring reality seemed to be choking her. Her hands wanted to cover her bits, her head swung from side to side looking for an escape and she bounced with the energy of a trapped animal.

Suddenly something bumped her shoulder. "Heather, you need to sit still. You will get us both in trouble," Willow whispered to her. The voice gave Heather a place to focus. She had seen the girl with the spiky black hair being ravaged by the four men in the suite. Somewhere in her brain she knew the girl's name was Willow. But what mattered to Heather at that moment was the calm and warmth she saw in her eyes. "Heather, let's get through this. You and I can get through this together, but you need to calm down. Here, lean against me but lower your head and sit still." The girl's shoulder was warm and solid, something to anchor her down. Her fidgeting slowed then stopped, and her breathing became more normal.

Heather closed her eyes and thought again of the choices she had made. Had it been rash to choose Master Carl over Sea Grove? She had stayed with Page and Heather the whole time they were being groomed and prepped before going to the private dining suite. They had been calm, even regal. In her time at The Nimitz, she had seen very few slaves like that. The slaves brought to the casino by other masters often wept or pleaded for mercy. The Sea Grove slaves, the ones trained by Simon, did not. They were reliable and obedient, but at times seemed to have a haunted look. Page and Heather were real. Willow's performance seducing the four nerds had been hot and Heather had been intrigued. And then Page had eaten her to three orgasms. Maybe her decision had been clouded by that?

Her thoughts were shattered as the door swung open and Madame Carronade strode out into the hallway. "You two, come with me," she said. Willow popped up and Heather scrambled to follow. They went only two doors down the hall.

Heather had seen the slave Muffin from a distance. She often accompanied Simon when he was at The Nimitz but Heather had made a habit of steering clear of Simon whenever possible, so she had never been close to his favorite pet. Now she was ordered to kneel next to her against the far wall of what was clearly a small office. She was not wearing her ears, tail, or paws, but she did have her toy bone in her mouth. She was wearing a pink leather set of collar and cuffs. Both Page and Willow were much taller than Heather, but Muffin was even smaller at just under five feet tall. Because of her bound hands, it took Heather a moment to get settled in a kneeling position. Muffin did not move an inch.

A rather small desk with a computer was pushed against one wall, leaving much of the floor space open. Three comfortable chairs were across from the desk while another section of the wall space held a bookcase full of binders. "Simon will be here in a moment," Madame Carronade said, then left the small room. Willow remained still but Heather could not help but shudder.

After less than a minute, the man from Heather's nightmares stepped into the room. Muffin and Willow were too well trained and did not move. Heather was too scared not to. "Slave, show the new one a present position." Willow sprang into action showing Heather by example what she wanted her to do. She had Heather sit up, move her knees apart and he took the time to make adjustments to her legs and head. Through all of it Willow never said a word.

When Willow returned to her spot, Simon pulled one of the chairs in front of the three slaves and sat down with his knees apart. "Muffin, get to work," he said. The tiny dark slave crawled quickly between Simon's legs. She then took the toy bone from between her teeth and inserted it in her pussy. She then, with practiced ease, pulled down the elastic waist of his pants bringing his very impressive cock into view. Even with his cock soft, Heather was not sure how such a small girl could get all of it in her mouth. Muffin placed her hands behind her back and began to move her head slowly. This was not a quick blow-job, but a task she had clearly done for hours.

"Heather, I am sorry you are leaving us," Simon said in a low, calm voice. "I was so looking forward to ... remaking you. You see, Madame Carronade has some ideas about creating some different types of slaves. Most of our slaves are the elegant courtesan types. They help guide the neophytes here in learning about and embracing pleasure. But we have wondered if there might be a market for a harder edged, more extreme type of slave.

"The problem is that the demands of the business are such that we have been reluctant to take good, expensive raw material and waste it on something that might not sell. That is why Muffin here is our first attempt at creating something different. She was given to us by her father after repeated incidents of rebellion and disrespect. She cost us nothing, so Madame Carronade gave her to me to ... experiment with." Simon paused. He wrapped his hand in her dreadlocks and forced her down on his engorging cock. The tiny slave took the whole length without gagging. He held her there for a few moments before pulling her off with equal force. The only sound she made was the intake of breath. "We really had only a rough outline of some ideas, but Muffin herself determined what form she would take. She had the loudest and foulest mouth and she never shut up. Watch her now." Simon had been holding her head up by her hair, but as soon as he released it she dove back onto his cock again. "You see, she is required to keep something in her mouth at all times. When it is not a cock, she has to find something else. You saw her toy bone, but it might just as well be a gag, a pussy, a shoe, or a ball. We have fun sometimes cuffing her and then watching her scramble to find something to put in her mouth. She once sucked on a doorknob because that was all she could find." Simon chuckled at the memory.

Simon paused for a moment to enjoy the sensation the tiny dark slave was giving him before continuing. He looked up at Heather and said, "So, my point is, because you cost Madame Carronade nothing, you were going to be my next experiment, my next project! I had thoughts about linking your collar with Muffin's and making you a matched set. Your red hair and fair skin would have made a fun contrast with Muffin's dark hair and skin. We were going to change your names to Ying and Yang because of what you would look like in a 69.

"But I recently had the idea of piercing you. I was considering covering you with hoops, bars, bangles and chains. Your nipples and clit would be pierced and linked by chains connected to another chain from your collar and then another chain to a tongue piercing. I had a goal of at least a hundred studs or rings. There would have been hoops in you labia and in your lips. We could have lock up your mouth and pussy. You would have jingled as you crawled. It would have been interesting," Simon sighed.

"I am not comfortable with sending an untrained slave out. If you do not work out, or if you cause a problem, it will make us, make Madame Carronade and myself, look bad. But Madame insisted that the other slave, Page I think is her name, is more than capable of training you, as she trained this other one here." He looked Willow over. "If this is any indication of the quality of Page's work, everything might just work out. However, if for some reason Master Carl is not pleased with you, I have made it clear that he can return you to us for any reason with no hard feelings. Then I could make you jingle after all."

He used Muffin's mouth for a few more minutes then pushed her away and readjusted his pants. Muffin immediately retrieved her toy bone from her pussy and put it back in her mouth and scrambled back to her place next to Heather. "You know, it is a mercy that we allow her to keep something in her mouth. She does not want to face the consequence for speaking a single word. Ever." With that Simon was gone.

When Carl came to collect the two a few minutes later, Heather was still trembling.


Madame Carronade looked at Page and Carl, "Here is what we know. The ship that Lord Blackmon was on had been out of contact and missing for about ten days. It was found a few hours ago near an ice sheet, disabled and damaged. I do not have details yet, but Lord Blackmon is alive, but is either injured or sick."

Carl watched tears roll down Page's face. Carl himself felt a wave of emotion at both the idea that Lord Blackmon safe and that he had been in danger.

"I have clients and friends here that are very rich and powerful. I contacted one of them and asked to borrow his jet to send it after your master. When I explained why I needed it and that it was Peter Blackmon that was sick, they were more than happy to let me use it as long as needed. So, as soon as we get clearance from the New Zealand government, I am sending a team, with security, legal and medical help, to bring him back here. They will also be able to give us more accurate information on Lord Blackmon's condition when they arrive in Christchurch." The tall mistress reached out to wipe away Page's tears. "How devoted you are to him. We will bring him back as soon as we can."

Carl asked, "What should we do in the mean time? We want to help any way we can."

Madame Carronade motioned for him to sit while she elegantly occupied her high backed chair again. Page again knelt on the floor but pressed up against Carl's leg. "Until we have more information, there is little we can do. However, I would like to make a suggestion about a few things we could do." She tented her hands under her chin, a gesture Carl had noticed a few times the previous night. This was her tell that she was working some angle. It did not mean she was planning something hostile. Before it had been to discover who he really was and why Page was with him. But it did mean she was working towards something. Carl braced himself for the other shoe to drop.

"I have a wonderful staff for the purpose they are tasked with. But I recognize that they are not equipped to do everything. While we are retrieving Lord Blackmon, I was hoping that you two might be of some service to me." She looked at Page, "You have always interested me. I would like a chance to ... explore what you are and how you think. I would also like to know more about your training of the young one."

She then turned back to Carl. "For you, I would ask for help in sorting out our prisoners. We have two slaves and one male we took from the thugs Master Lobo sent for you. I would like to know what they know. You are a seasoned law enforcement officer. Would you help me discover who they are, what they know, and what needs to happen next?"

Carl looked her straight in the eye, "I will not torture them."

Madame Carronade frowned, "Sir, I have torturers in abundance as well as the will to use it. This situation needs something I do not have. All three have been badly beaten and abused. One of the slaves may not survive. The other may lose an eye. The male has three broken ribs, a fractured jaw, and a bruised spleen. I don't want punishment, at least not at this time. I want information. We are checking their fingerprints and should have names soon, but I want to know why Lobo's men kept them alive. You are already familiar with the story. You can make sense of any information they share."

Carl thought that what she was saying made a great deal of sense. I could see how this impressive woman had become successful and influential. But he did not want to be at odds with his responsibilities to Page and Willow ... and now Heather. "I see your point. But I do not, I cannot, work for you. I have..."

"I am not asking that you work for me, but with me. You could not work for me anyway. Masters do not lord it over other masters. That was one of Lobo's failures from before. For slaves or even employees to see us squabbling like children on the playground diminishes all of us and makes proper slave training and behavior impossible. Lobo's petty jealousies hurt us all. That is one reason I have been fighting to lower his visibility in our community."

Carl leaned forward, "Are you saying that I would have equal status to you?"

She smiled, "Yes that is exactly what I am saying. I am offering you the chance to move through and work with my organization as my equal. My staff and property are at your disposal. This will only be for a few days while we bring Lord Blackmon back, but I would like your insights and help with this matter."

Carl thought for a moment, "I am new to this world, but for what you are asking that should not be a liability. However I have relied upon Page's insights and value her thoughts. May I consult with her before giving you my answer?"

Madame Carronade stood, "Master Carl that is precisely why I want to spend time with her too. I want to check on a few things anyway. Please excuse me." With that she strode out the door.


As soon as Madame Carronade exited the room, Page burst into tears. She hugged Carl's legs and sobbed. All Carl could do was hold her and stroke her hair. He was amazed at the emotion he felt for Page. He feared that with the return of Lord Blackmon he would lose contact with her. He was moved that she was so upset. He truly cared for her.

"Page, we will get him back a quickly as we can. He will be here soon," Carl said softly to the top of her head. He felt her nod and then sit up straight. A minute later, Page had straightened her back and had wiped the tears from her cheeks. When she looked up a Carl, the only evidence of her meltdown was her red rimmed eyes. Her face was composed and she was again the Page he had come to know and admire.

"Sir, we need to be clear about what Madame Carronade is proposing and what it might mean," she said. "I am speculating, but my guess is that you will need to go to Sea Grove or the casino to talk to the prisoners. That is a very different environment than you have seen before. You will need to be Master Carl from now on, not just there, but with Heather. It means getting deeper into this, not extracting yourself from it."

"Page, I fear ... I feared for a long time that it was going to be impossible to simply walk away from the situation. We are woven into the events too tightly. Lobo will not leave us in peace because he is too much of an ass to let it go. I have dealt with gangsters and thugs before. Lobo has a gangster's soul. We cannot survive alone for much longer. We need allies and Madame Carronade is the best ally for us now. But we need to be valuable to her. If not, we just become a bargaining chip for later."

Carl paused for a few moments to gather his thoughts. He was confident that he could work with the prisoners. He was sure he could develop some information that would be valuable to Madame Carronade, but in that confidence was a message of doom. Carl had developed a number of principles of undercover work. They had stood the test of time and experience. One of those was a warning about becoming complacent. "If you think you have the situation under control, start running now because it is about to fuck you up," he would mutter to himself. Start looking for what you don't know.

Carl turned to Page, "What am I missing here? What do I need to know?"

Page had developed a great respect and love for Carl. She loved his tender heart and courage. She also loved his willingness to approach a problem without ego, and to recognize when he needed help. "Sir, the first thing is that we will be separated. I will be with the mistress and you will be with the prisoners. Do you trust me? Do you trust the mistress? Do you trust yourself operating alone?"

Carl's eyes widened as he considered what Page had said. She was right, he would be alone. Could he pull it off without her help and strength? "I see your point. Do you think I can handle it?"

Page smiled for the first time in a while, "Yes, I think you will do fine. You will see things, hear things, and learn things that will be difficult. However you have proven you are made of iron, you are a master. From this moment on, I will never call you anything else but Master Carl."

Carl frowned, "I am concerned for you though. Leaving you in the hands of Madame Carronade, am I abandoning you?"

Page looked out the window to the iconic bridge, "She intends to test me, to analyze me, and yes, fuck me." She looked back a Carl for a moment, "She has lusted for me for a while. Lord Blackmon and I talked about it a number of times. He was waiting for the right moment to gift me to her, for a time, as a gesture of friendship. I think the time has come because I want to say thank you to her for bringing my lord back to me."

"So you are okay with this?" with this?" Carl asked.

"Sir, I am a slave. If you told me to walk into Master Lobo's house right now I would have no choice. I work hard at making myself valuable enough to you that you would not make that choice unless completely necessary. But this is not such a bad choice. I will give her all that she demands of me in exchange for my master. It is a good bargain." Page paused for a moment. "Please take Willow and Heather with you. You will get back to the condo soon and can leave them there if you think that is best. If they stayed here, I am less sure what would happen."

Carl considered what Page had said and where his own thoughts were. He then strode to the door and asked one of the guards outside to ask Madame Carronade to return. After a few moments the beautiful mistress reentered the room. "I agree to what you are proposing. However, I need to get our affairs settled and preparations made for Lord Blackmon's return. Please give us forty eight hours before Page joins you. I will look into the prisoners immediately."

"Agreed," she said with a smile.


Carl had been told that the medical facility at The Nimitz was more extensive than those at Sea Grove. Because of that the two slaves and the beaten man were being cared for there.

He asked to borrow a car. That had caused a stir with Madame Carronade's security team. They said they would take him in the limo, but Carl insisted on driving himself. Ironically, the only vehicles available were the two armored limos. He took one of those. He loaded Page, Willow and Heather up and sped away.

The confrontation with the security team did have another effect. It proved that his word, as a master of slaves, would be obeyed, at least among the Sea Grove employees and slaves. He had told them to notify the security team at The Nimitz that he was on his way and have someone meet him at the entrance to take him to the prisoners. All his requests were granted.

The reason he wanted a car without a driver was he was going to deliver the girls back at the condo without revealing its location. He did not pull into the parking structure, he was sure they were monitoring the car's movements by GPS, but he got them within a block. Page's hands had been free and he had released Willow's hands but left Heather bound. All three were covered with capes. As the car stopped for a red light, Willow and Page slid out of the back seat guiding Heather along by a leash. The three walked the block and a half to the entrance to the condo building. They slipped into the discreet penthouse elevator and two minutes later entered the condo. It felt strange to Willow to realize they had only left the condo less than a day before. With everything that had happened, it seemed like weeks.


Carl had been awake almost twenty-four hours and needed to rest, but wanted to get a handle on his task first. The SUV/limo was recognized and service at the entrance of The Nimitz was fit for royalty, or one of the owners of the hotel. His liaison was waiting for him. His was a short Asian man by the name of Matt. "Welcome sir! If you will come this way..." Mat led him into the casino but turned right just inside the doors. He escorted Carl behind the lavish Front Desk area to a service area only available to employees. They entered a utilitarian elevator, very different from the posh ones he had ridden to the private suites. "Sir, is there anything you require?" Matt asked him.

"Here is my plan," Carl began. He had been thinking about this on the drive over. "I want to get an initial impression of the three you are holding. Then I need to rest. Can you get me a place to lie down for a few hours? Past that I am not sure what else I am going to need."

"Sir, we will have a suite ready for you when you want it." With that Matt touched the radio at his belt and gave instructions to have a room ready for Carl and for someone to bring him the key card.

The elevator doors opened onto a plain service corridor. Matt led the way further into the interior of the hotel. "The medical facilities are near the East side of the complex, which puts them right under the guest rooms. That is where the three are being treated. If we confirm that the two females are slaves, we will move them to our slave treatment area. It probably will not be necessary for one of them. She has so much internal and head trauma that she most likely will not survive. The other also has trauma to the head, along with other injuries. Neither are awake. The male is semi-conscious but has not said anything, mostly moaning."

They had entered the hotel at the far West side so it took a few minutes to get to the medical suites on the opposite end. They finally arrived and pushed through a double door clearly intended to admit stretchers or wheelchairs. One of the first things Carl noticed was the heavy security. The three were not going anywhere, no matter their medical condition. The security team snapped to attention when they saw Carl's escort Matt. He must be someone important on the staff. Carl filed that away for future reference.

The three were in different bays of what looked like a modern emergency department of a hospital. The bays were sectioned off by partitions and sliding glass doors. The first girl, he could not tell much about what she looked like because of the bandages, was in the first bay. He walked in to get a closer look. He could hear the monitors beeping, the soft clicking of an IV pump and the hiss of oxygen flowing somewhere under the bandages. Her head was completely wrapped. Her bare shoulders and arms showed extensive bruising and what looked like burns. Carl lifted the sheets to see the girl's mangled and burned breasts. He lowered the sheet and quietly walked out. His escort was watching him carefully.

The second bay held the other girl. She was blond, but that was all he could see. A bandage covered both of her eyes and most of her upper face and nose. She too was bruised but not to the extent of the first girl. There was trauma, but little signs of systematic inflicting of pain.

"Who..." came a soft voice from under the bandages.

Carl leaned down and tried to pitch his voice in the most non-threatening way he could, "Hi. Are you Sally?" Carl had found over the years that to ask a vague question like "Who are you?" often evoked a suspicious or hostile reaction. People opened up better to correcting a mistake.

"Nancy," came the weak response from the mass of cotton.

"Okay, Nancy? Who was with you?" At the mention of the others, the girl began to weakly writhe under the covers, rattling the IV line. "Oh Pat ... oh Pat ... Pat," the girl moaned.

Carl was confused. Was Pat the girl's name or the guys? He tried to get her to explain but the writhing was getting worse. A nurse stepped in to administer some pain medication and the conversation was at an end. Carl walked out of the room.

"Did you learn anything?" Matt asked him as they walked to the next medical bay.

"I am not sure. Let's see if we can learn anything from our last mystery guest," Carl muttered.

The unknown man's face was swollen but visible. Carl knew his jaw are fractured which accounted for the swelling. He tried to get the man to speak or respond but got nothing. Like the other two, Carl lifted the sheet. The man's entire torso was one giant bruise, but there were clear marks were his ribs and stomach had been targeted. To Carl it looked like someone had used a baseball bat or night stick on him. He lowered the sheet and then looked at his hands. His knuckles were scrapped and bruised. He had put up a fight.

After he left the man's room he stood for a few moments lost in thought. His escort waited patiently. Finally he looked at him and said, "I would like to rest now."


Almost as soon as they entered the condo Willow asked "Page, do you know..."

Page cut her off, "Not now, not here. Take Heather into the back and secure her there. Make sure you unlock her hands only after she is in the cage."

Willow, with a curious look on her face, did as Page said. The condo had come equipped with a bondage/slave room, including a bathroom space, furnished with common bondage devices. This included a dog cage type cell. The slave could not stand up in it nor even completely straighten out, but it could be made secure.

A few minutes later Willow came back to the main room and found Page looking online. "We need..." Page's voice drifted off as she concentrated on what she was doing. Willow put together a small tray of food in anticipation of the conversation she hoped they would have when Page found what she was looking for.

"There!" Page said. "They can deliver and install it tomorrow!"

For the first time in an hour Page looked up and saw Willow waiting patiently. "Oh, sorry. I got focused on the problem and lost track of, well, here."

"I am sorry, but I am not sure what you are talking about. What problem, besides Lord Blackmon being sick, do we have?"

Page stood up and walked over to the lounge area. There was a low glass topped coffee table near the large windows overlooking San Francisco Bay. It was meant as an intimate place to read or talk away from the main activities taking place in the condo. Page took the tray containing the cheese and vegetables that Willow had prepared at put them on the coffee table. But instead of sitting in the large chairs, Page knelt down on the small rug and waived for Willow to join her.

"Heather is the problem," Page said.

"How is she a problem? She seems nice to me," Willow replied.

"I would agree. She does seem nice, and she is very cute. I saw her and remembered the first time I saw ... I saw Carol. She was the slave that killed herself. She was a redhead too. I have always been attracted to redheads..." Page's voice trailed off again, this time lost in memory.

"But she is a problem?" Willow brought the discussion back to the present.

"Yes, she is an unknown. The best case is that she is the untrained gift that they claim she is. The worst case is that she is spying for someone. She might be spying for Madame Carronade or even Master Lobo. The point is we do not know. Also, because she is untrained, she could cause a problem without ever intending to. Willow, there are only three people in this world that I care about. Two of them live here and the third might be on his way. I want to keep them safe."

Willow was thoughtful for a moment as she took in what Page had said. She clearly decided it was the logical course of action and threw herself completely behind it. "Okay, so what do we need to do? What do you want me to do?"

Page smiled at Willow. "Complicating this situation is the fact that I have to spend some time with Madame Carronade. That means I will not be able to start her training right away. Now, you are new to all of this, so you cannot train her either. However you can keep her safe, keep yourself safe, and at least introduce her to her new life."

Page then explained what was coming to be installed and how Willow was going to use it.


She was lying on her side, with a sheet pulled up to her chin, thinking about her future. Such thoughts had brought her to despair and tears just before falling asleep. She emerged from her rest with no change in her situation or outlook.

The rooms were too small to be called a suite, but too well appointed to be called a cell. The space contained an open alcove that held the toilet, sink and shower; a bed across from the bathroom and a chair and desk along one wall with a marker board above the desk. There were other doors and cabinets built into that wall; each securely locked. It was the device along the wall opposite the desk that Heather would learn to fear.

As she became fully awake, she rolled on to her back and stretched. The sheet slid down her body uncovering first her delicate pale throat followed by her lightly freckled shoulders and finally her breasts with their coral colored nipples.

Kicking her feet, she completely freed herself of the sheet. This action uncovered the sculpted contours of her abs, hips, clean shaven pussy, and finally her strong legs and delicate feet. Her golden red hair fell across her face as she pushed her arms up over her head. The chain and cable made a sound that reminded Heather of wind chimes.

Heather wore leather cuffs locked onto her wrists with about two feet of chain between them. The chain allowed her to go about the tasks of eating, shitting, washing, and sleeping without too much difficulty. However, there was a cable attached to the chain by a steel ring. The ring was made to slide the length of the chain. It was the cable and ring, more than the locked door, that made the room a prison.

It was still much better than the first night. That night she had slept in a dog cage. She had been terrified that she was going to be kept in there for the rest of her life, however long that might be. However, after some banging, sawing and other noises, she had been moved to where she was now.

There were no windows to help her measure the passing of time. The singular clock and meals were all she had to keep track of time. She had not given a lot of food, but what she was given was healthy and good. Near the red door were the dishes from her last meal. The meal had been a hard-boiled egg, two servings of vegetables and a small cookie. She had spent her previous life as an athlete, a gymnast, and could judge the caloric content of a meal quite accurately. They were not starving her. The most unusual thing about the meal was the instructions on how to stack the dishes.

On the white board above the desk was a list of instructions. The instructions were deceptively simple.

Absolutely no talking.

Out of bed by 6:45.

Have your bed made before 7:00.

Prepare yourself. Bedroom and bathroom clean by 7:30.

Inspection 7:35.

Meal served when inspection is passed.

Meal dishes are placed at the door, cleaned and properly placed with silverware on top, napkin folded neatly, small dish, large dish stacked on tray, with the cup cleaned and to the right side.

But what might look like a summer camp schedule became something else when the girl with the short spiky hair entered the room at promptly 7:35. Even at such an early hour the girl, she did not look much older than Heather, was groomed and dressed. She was wearing black knee length high heeled boots, black thong panties and a black bra. She also wore a black collar with a silver ring in the front.

They had met before. When Heather had been working at the Nimitz Hotel and Casino she had seen this slave girl sexually service four men. It had been one of the most erotic performances Heather had ever witnessed. She also had helped Heather when she had talked with Simon. Heather hoped they would be friends.

"Please, can you help me? I want to leave! We can leave together ... get away from this place and these people!" Heather pleaded.

The girl slowly closed the door, then turned back to Heather. Her voice was calm, like the waters of a deep still lake, "The rules are on the board. The first rule is no talking, period. The second is how you should be presenting yourself and your area at this time. You have failed every single rule. You are making a bad start of it. Come here and kneel."

Heather slid out of bed and hesitantly walked towards the girl. She noticed that the girl watched her almost like a coach would watch an athlete. Heather got the impression that she had not passed that inspection either. She got down on her knees and sat back on her heels.

"Just so we are clear, I am not your trainer. Page will be your trainer. My name is Willow, but you cannot speak right now so you don't call us anything. We will tell you when you can speak and how to properly address us. Your owner is Master Carl. When allowed to speak you will address him as Master Carl or Sir."

Willow walked over to the farthest corner by the door. She opened a cabinet and took out a crop. Heather had seen them before when she worked at the Nimitz Hotel. She had seen quite a few slaves marked with crops. They always screamed.

"Like I said, I am not your trainer, but I am going to get you ready for your Trainer. You need to start forming good habits now. Keeping a schedule is important. Keeping yourself and your surroundings clean and neat is important. But most important is the clear understanding that commands, instructions and rules will be followed without exception. So, face down, ass up, hands flat forward."

"Please," Heather whispered, "please don't do this!"

Willow just waited. There was no expression of anger or nervousness on her face, just a calm sense of patience.

Heather was considering her options. While Willow was taller than her, she did not look especially athletic. She was also limited by the heeled boots. On the downside were the cuffs and chains Heather was wearing. That would hamper her somewhat, but it would still be a contest if it came to a fight. Heather decided that she would not get cropped without resisting. She did not move and hardened the expression on her face to make it clear she was not going to move.

Willow took two steps back to the wall where she had retrieved the crop. Just above the cabinet door was a panel that included a large red button. Willow used the heel of her hand to press it.

A chiming sound began to emanate from the opposite wall, specifically from the tall silver object where the cable attached to Heather's cuffs emerged. The cable began to retract back into the opening located just below the ceiling. Slowly the cable pulled Heather to her feet and towards the strange device. She tried to resist but the machinery could have lifted a small car. As she got closer, she saw that the surface was a dull gray, like plastic, but that it was also covered with what looked like steel rivets. The cable continued to retract until Heather was pulled off of her feet and pressed against the side of the device. The chiming and the cable stopped.

Heather hung there, suspended by her wrists, facing the studded surface of the machine. Then a different chime sounded this one lower in tone and shorter. Then the first electric shocks hit her. The pain exploded from her left hip and her right breast. Heather screamed and flailed against the machine, but the cable kept her body pressed to its surface. A moment later another deep chime and the lightning struck two other places on her body, this time near her left knee and her stomach. Every three to five seconds, the chime would sound and two random spots would shock her, any place she was in contact with the wall. There was no way to anticipate where the pain would come from and there was no escaping it. Soon her bucking and twisting became feeble as she became exhausted. Then, without warning, the chiming and shocks stopped.

"As I said, I am not your trainer," Willow's voice came from close behind her, almost whispering in Heather's ear as she hung there sweating and panting. "But I will give you this insight. A crop or a cane stroke hurts, but quickly fades. This machine here can make you writhe in pain for hours. It does not get tired, it does not care about your cries and cannot show mercy. It also has ten pain settings. That was setting number three. You make the choice. Do not speak, but nod you head. Do you want more of this?" Heather shook her head. "Do you want the crop?" Heather nodded her head.

Ten minutes later Willow left Heather to try again to follow the rules. Heather quickly began making her bed. The four stripes across her ass stood out against her pale skin.

An hour later Willow was back. Heather was emerging from the bathroom area and stood just outside the alcove to see what Willow would do. Heather was astonished as she watched Willow inspect her bed, the floor, under the bed, and the bathroom including the toilet, the shower and sink. She watched Willow run her hand along the baseboards looking for dust. She picked up a red hair out of the shower drain and placed it on Heather shoulder to confirm it was a match. Heather was sure she had not passed the inspection.

"This is the inspection spot." Willow was pointing to a three foot yellow circle on the floor in front of the sink. "Be on that spot when I come through the door each morning. Stand with your feet apart, just inside the circle. Your arms will be up with your wrists crossed. You will look at your reflection in the mirror over your left shoulder. Take that position now."

Heather moved to comply. Willow turned her a little to the right and moved her hands higher indicting what the proper pose should be. Then the personal inspection started.

Willow stood in front of her and ran her fingers through Heather's red hair. It was long enough to almost reach her nipple. "Your hair is lovely and in good condition. Page will decide what to do about it, but I don't think she will need to shave your head like she did mine." Willow then turned Heather's face left and right to get a good look at her skin. "You have nice skin and no issues with acne. You will be given a questionnaire later today, if we can get past this filthy room, so that we can know more about you. Please indicate on those papers what you use for skin care. We will make sure you have what you need to keep you skin so nice." Willow used her finger to indicate Heather should open her mouth. "Straight teeth, clean, no problems."

Willow stepped back and looked under Heather's raised arms, "I see hair here. There will be no hair that grows below your neck. The same goes for here." Heather ran two fingers across Heather's pussy. It was the first sexual contact she had experiences since becoming a slave. She had thought that she would be raped the first day if not the first moment she was enslaved. Instead the first touch she experienced was a hygiene check! Still, the touch sent a shock-wave of pleasure and sent a rush of blood to her cheeks.

Willow continued the inspection by looking at her hands, nails, feet, toes and running her hands across her legs and stomach. "You are in good shape and in good muscle. We will devise how to keep that up if not improve it." She then stepped behind Heather to complete her examination. She ran her hands down her back and then her ass. "Bend," she commanded and Heather bent over at the waist. Willow pried apart her ass to examine Heather's cleft and small pink hole. "Be sure and get the hair here as well."

Willow stepped again in front of Heather and used her hand to indicate she was to stand upright again. Willow took a moment to look again at the shorter redhead and take her in. Heather was not used to being naked in front of someone, especially exposed and displayed this way. As her discomfort grew, she began to fidget a little.

At once Willow stepped close to Heather. She took the redhead's left nipple in her fingers and twisted it, digging into it with her fingernail. Pain exploded through Heather's breast. She barely stifled the scream. "You move only when told. You will hold a pose or position until instructed to change." Despite the end of the lecture, Willow continued to pull, twist and dig into the abused nipple for a few moments longer. Heather fought to keep control of her body and expression, but she could not stop the tear. When Willow saw the tear, she let go of the abused tit and gently wiped the tear from Heather's cheek. Before moving back, Willow leaned close and whispered into Heather ear, "Nice blush before, very pretty."

Willow then stepped back and went down the list of items that were not up to standard. She left after delivering four more hard strokes with the crop to Heather's ass and telling her that if the place was not up to snuff in two hours the next four strokes would be across her freckled tits.


Carl was awakened by the ringing phone beside his bed. It took him a minute to remember where he was. "Yes?" he said into the handset.

"Master Carl, this is Matt with the Hotel. You asked for a wake-up call."

"Yes, thank you."

Also, there have been some developments with the prisoners."

Carl was moving faster, "Where do I meet you?"

"Sir, I am just outside your door."

"Give me five minutes," Carl said. His bladder was about to burst.

Eight minutes later, Carl met Matt in the hallway. "What do you have for me?"

Matt looked Carl in the eye, "The first slave died about four hours ago. Considering the damage, it is doubtful she could have said anything anyway if she had lived. I did not think that news was worth waking you.

"We have IDs on all three. The two women are slaves in the registry. The deceased was Patricia Nolan."

"The other woman was calling out for 'Pat, ' Carl said.

"Yea, it seems the other woman is Nancy Nolan, Patricia's sister. They were owned by a man from Reno."

"Were owned?"

"The owner was reportedly killed in a fall from some rocks on the coast near Half Moon Bay. Curiously, he died the morning after the rescue operation in Santa Clara. The two sisters disappeared."

Carl thought for a moment. "Two slave sisters go missing hours after a successful slave rescue. The owner is in the same area and has a fatal accident. That story smells all kinds of bad."

"I thought so too." Matt handed Carl a folder containing the information on the two girls. "They were from Nevada. They were in a car that failed to stop at a crosswalk. The car hit and killed a six year old boy. The girl that was driving was high. All three were enslaved. The two sisters were sold together."

Carl thought for a moment, "The guys Master Lobo sent after us were coming back from Reno. Do you think they were there to pick up the sisters?"

"It seems to fit what we know so far," Matt replied. "But, if that is the case, what were they doing with a guy from Fresno?"

"What was that?"

"The guy they had, Steven Symke, he was from Fresno. He has a record too, but not from Nevada. I don't see..."

Carl blanched, "I need to see his sheet."

Matt handed Carl another folder. This one contained a driver's license photo as well as a Department of Corrections photo for the man in the clinic downstairs. Carl had a good memory for names and other information, but nothing convinced him like the photos.

There was a strong family resemblance between Steven and his sister Willow.

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