Chapter 42: Murder Most Foul

Miles Cunningham was hosting a dinner party come informal business meeting for two of his friends who had minor shareholdings in Quayle Sexploitation. The last of the food had been cleared away by the slaves, most of whom had now departed, leaving the dinner-jacketed men to their coffee, liqueurs and cigars. Sitting sideways across Miles's lap was his daughter Gill, her red velvet dress rucked up around her waist making it easy for her father to idly finger her clit.

Max Schulfield was a handsome, middle-aged man who'd made his money in the toy manufacturing business before buying a stake in Cunningham's company, not so much as a way to make more money but to gain easy access to the so-called glamour people in the entertainment industry. He was currently sitting with his knees spread wide apart in order to allow a red-headed bit-part actress who called herself Sue Melons (and who had accompanied him to the party for rather obvious reasons of her own) easy access to his engorged penis with her mouth as she crouched under the table dressed in a black leather micro-mini and matching waistcoat top...

The third man at the table was older than the others and he had been a shareholder in the original Quayle Sexploitation Company long before the hostile take-over by Miles Cunningham. The rather dubious transfer of a substantial amount of credit into a holding account in the name of this man's son had ensured that he, Frederick James, had voted for the Cunninghams rather than remaining loyal to the existing management and this had, effectively, handed control to the newcomers. Miles had rewarded Frederick by not only keeping him on the Board but by adding another five percent to his holdings. The currently nude (apart from her collar) Panties was laying across Master James' lap, his left arm hooked over her neck, holding her down in place while his right was busy ramming the empty tube from his double corona Havana cigar back and forth in her anus.

"So, have the police made any progress, Miles?"

"Naw, Fred, nothing so far... damned ineffectual bunch of wankers! They know no more now than when they started. Mayor's starting to squirm a little since I threatened to cut off my funding to his campaign, though. That might well provoke a reaction or two."

"Heard there was another bomb in the town centre last night," commented Max. "A late night place selling educational equipment. Shopkeeper and two students killed. Poor kids were just out getting some dildos and cream to help them finish off their homework. What can anyone have against that I want to know?"

"It's these damned crazies I blame. They're getting everywhere. You still think it's the Black Widows behind it all, Miles?"

"Damned right it is, Fred! Things have only got worse since the authorities picked up that Cerruti bitch."

"Whatever happened to her, dad?" queried young Gil between her moans of pleasure. "Last I heard she was about to go on trial..."

"I heard..." A hard slap against her rump from Master James cut off whatever comment Panties had been about to make.

"Glub, glub," mumbled Miss Melons from under the table, her ponderous, silicon enhanced breasts (after which she had professionally named herself) swinging free through the unbuttoned waistcoat, their nipples occasionally brushing against the carpet.

Master Cunningham stretched an arm behind him and, after a little fishing about in the drawer of a sideboard, brought forth a wide roll of silver-colour sticky tape from which he cut two quite long strips, one of which he applied across his daughter's mouth before passing the second to Master James who, likewise, applied it across Panties'. "Women should be screwed and not heard," he commented to nods of agreement from Max and Miles.

There followed a little more talk about the Black Widows and what should be done about them then, part way through the next subject (a comparison of the company's cash flow ratio as expressed as a percentage of the net profit for the past twelve months compared to the previous year) Miss Melons finally got Master Schulfield to spill his tasty seed into her mouth which she then eagerly swallowed. Having seen what had happened to the other two women when they had spoken, Sue wisely kept her thoughts (shallow though they might be) to herself and simply remained out of sight below the table, spending her time wiping her lips clean, straightening the seams of her stockings and attending to her nails. There followed a brief discussion with regard to the programs that a competitor was scheduling for the next season on his channel and, following that, Miles quietly suggested that they call it a night. Knowing how to take a hint, both other men stood, straightening their dinner suits and, in Max's case, zipping his pants up while Master James placed what remained of his still lit Havana back into its case, twisted on the lid and made sure that it was pushed fully back into Panties' arse so that her sphincter closed over it with a faint plopping sound. A warm glow filled the slaves' insides as Master James gentlemanly assisted her back to her feet. Sue appeared from under the table and, after adjusting her garments and pulling her skirt as far down her shapely rump as it would go, took Max by the arm and allowed him to lead her out to his waiting car.

Frederick hung back in the house until Miles had seen his other guests off. "Miles, old boy... look, the wife's out of town for the evening... staying with a sister... you know the score. Taken the two female slaves with her..."

"Okay, Fred, you don't have to go on any further," Miles smiled at the other man. "If you want to borrow Panties for the night, be my guest. I'll send Bernard round to retrieve her in the morning."

"Ah, thanks, Miles. So understanding of you." Master James then took a firm hold of Panties' left wrist and said to her, "Don't dawdle, girl... you're spending the night at my place. Won't that be nice for you?" Panties could only nod in response as she was lead through the front door and out to Frederick's imported limousine, a highly polished black Jaguar. Popping open the boot, he indicated that she should hurry... and in she climbed, the lid being slammed back into place almost immediately. The engine purred into life a few moments later and Panties felt the vehicle pull away and start down the estate's drive.

An hour or so later Melissa slunk through the darkened Cunningham's home with the ease and confidence of the professional burglar she had once been. Picking the lock on the front door had proved to be easy for it was a pathetically cheap one... and, thanks to the floor plan of the house that Butch had provided, Melissa knew exactly were she was going. Within moments she was standing in Gil Cunningham's bedroom looking down at the Young Mistress as she lay slumbering on her back in the bed, illuminated by the light of the full moon pouring in through the badly closed curtains. The quilt had slipped off the young girl's body and Melissa could see that the Mistress had a vibrator set to low shoved up her, the end protruding slightly through her blond pussy fuzz and that Gill was sleeping naked apart from a suspender belt and night stockings, slightly thicker and warmer than normal day-wear. The burglar suddenly recalled just how good it used to feel being properly dressed and, oddly, she began to feel slightly embarrassed by her enforced nakedness, something she hadn't even thought about for years. Moving over to Gill's dresser she pulled open the top drawer and, as she suspected, saw that it was filled to the brim with an assortment of stockings, suspender belts and garters. Selecting a nice pair of black fish-net stockings as well as a matching pair of black and red lacy garters, Melissa put them to one side, promising herself that, in some private moment, she would slip them on and make herself feel like a real, free woman once again rather than the slave she had been for quite some time now.

Getting her mind back to the job in hand, Melissa looked for the control device for the slave collars and found it just where Butch had said it would be - on top of Gill' bedside table. Silently, Melissa thanked Butch, slightly surprised that the sissy had been absolutely right so far. Picking up the box, Melissa flicked it on and watched while it warmed up. Pretty soon, the soft glow of a small VDU was adding more illumination to the room and, combined with the moonlight, it allowed the thief to be able to tell which button was which. Holding her breath, Melissa punched in the code that would unlock the main functions of the unit... and smiled when, with barely a sound, the unit became fully operational as indicated by a small green light now glowing in the top corner. Stealing a glance at Gill and seeing that the other girl hadn't moved, Melissa pressed four more keys on the number-pad and was rewarded by the appearance of Wee-Wee's name on the VDU. Smiling openly now, she jabbed a finger at the green 'activate' button...

Down in one of the male dormitories, Wee-Wee woke with a start and clutched at his collar. What was going on? It was still dark and he hadn't annoyed the Master or the Mistress recently - so why were they punishing him? The huge Negro tried to call out for assistance but failed for the collar had already constricted to the point where his Adam's apple was being crushed. Crippled by his broken leg and the cast it bore, Wee-Wee could only thrash about desperately as he felt the life being squeezed out of him. Frantically, he tired to insert his immensely strong fingers between the metal of the collar and his own neck but his digits were just to big to fit. By now Wee-Wee's mad thrashing had awoken the other slaves, one of whom turned on the lights to see what was going on. Realisation came bursting in on them and, despite the pleading in Wee-Wee's eyes, none of the others moved to help him since this was clearly a punishment inflicted by the Masters. Wee-Wee's sight was growing dim now and his movements getting weaker. With a thud, the Negro crashed back onto his bunk for the last time, his eyes bulging and his bloated tongue protruding from his mouth. Within another few seconds, the giant had breathed his last...

Melissa checked the time on Gill's bedside clock - five minutes had passed since she had pressed the activate button so, she concluded, the black bastard must be dead. After pressing 'escape' twice to clear the device, Melissa switched the unit off and replaced it where she had found it before quietly sneaking towards the door, picking up the stolen stockings and garters again as she did so.

Leaving the building proved to be no more difficult that it had been getting in and it wasn't long before Melissa was laying back in her own bunk, the proceeds of her theft hidden well away. Smiling to herself, Melissa pried her pussy lips apart before feeling for her colitis. She noted just how damp she was down there and thought about just how enjoyable killing someone was. Possibly, she considered, it just had to be the ultimate turn on...

The car finally slowed to a halt and Panties heard the driver's door being opened and then closed. Shortly afterwards, the boot lid was lifted and Master James was looming over her. "Time to get out, my dear." Because of her stiff muscles, the slave had a little difficulty in clambering over the sill but, shortly, she was standing on the gravel drive before the grey haired man looking at his house. It was large and impressive but not overly so - the home of a successful businessman who'd not really made the big time. Master James lead her towards the oaken front door asking, as he did so, if she enjoyed a little bondage. Faced with this sort of question, all females know that they must always answer in the affirmative no matter what their true feelings are in the matter and so Panties nodded her head, her mouth still being taped closed. As it happened, next to having needles pushed through her nipples or being given a nice, tight pair of lacy knickers to wear, Panties had long found that being tied up and left somewhere was the most erotic experience she knew and she realised that she was eagerly awaiting the Master's attentions in this area.

"Good, good," responded Master James. "We'll just get ourselves inside then I'll tie you up for a bit to marinate while I take a shower and grab a drink. That'll be alright for you, won't it?"

Again, all Panties could do was to nod even while felt her sex begin to lubricate itself at the thought of the forthcoming action. Once the front door was opened, the Master lead her into an entrance hall which was bigger than the living room at her old family home. Totally lined with wood, the walls were punctuated by many doors, one of which was within feet of the main entrance and it was through this one that Panties found herself being guided. Arriving at the far wall and reaching up to a shelf above the slaves' head, Frederick pulled down a large coil of soft white rope and a dagger with a lengthy blade. Bidding Panties to stand, he busied himself at making her secure and it wasn't long before her wrists and ankles had been well and truly tied together. Using another length of rope, Frederick lashed Panties upper arms to her body, painfully flattening her breasts in the process. The Master then pulled out a small barrel onto which he indicated that she should sit. The wood was cold and ragged, jabbing into her naked flesh, but Panties sat where she was without complaint. Then the Master whipped more rope about her legs, just above the knees, before finally attaching the rope that was binding her wrists to that. Panties was now well and truly helpless. 'Possibly I could stand, ' she thought to herself, 'and maybe even jump a little but I'd soon fall over because I'd be bent so far forward. Best just to stay where I am.'