Willow - Cover

Willow

Copyright© 2014 by gorp

Chapter 20

BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 20 - Slavery is practiced by the rich and encouraged by the government. Willow becomes a slave and is almost sold at auction. Violence strikes and she is propelled into the household of a reclusive owner. What will she become?

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   NonConsensual   Fiction   BDSM   Rough   Humiliation   Sadistic   Torture   Snuff   Caution   Violence  

Standing at the door was Madame Carronade. "There are six heavily armed men coming for you. They are approaching the eastern span of the Bay Bridge right now. They are about seven minutes away. Listen to me and do what I say and I can get you out," Madam Carronade told Carl.

Carl's only reliable touchstone was Page. He looked at her and saw her nod. "We're in. Tell us what to do."

Madame Carronade turned to the hostess, "Heather, take them through the service area to the freight elevator. My car is on level three of the parking structure. Tell Claude to take them to the house. No wait ... you go too, I don't want you taken and tortured for information." With a wave she saw them off. As they were moving away, Carl heard her give someone instruction to get the four sated man out of the dining suite as well.

"Do you know what is going on?" Carl whispered to Page.

"Look," Page whispered as they were passing through the service area. She nodded to the S and G symbols on the wall. "That is Madam Carronade's company logo. I don't know why it is here, or why she is here." Page turned to Willow to make sure she was listening. "Willow, be on your best manners. Madam Carronade does not suffer fools well. But she also has been a friend of Lord Blackmon, at least in the past. Just be careful."

At that moment they were ushered into a gray SUV. Carl noted the thick glass and the heavy sound the door made when it was closed. The car was armored. Its seating arrangement was different too, more like what they had seen in the limo. One set of seats faced backwards while the back faced forwards. As soon as the four were set and another guard was seated in the front, the car sped off. The escape went as planned. Soon Carl and the three girls of his expanding entourage were crossing the western span of the Bay Bridge and headed west to Seacliff.

Carl leaned close to Page, "Who is this Madame Carronade? Is she working for Lobo or..."

"Oh, no, she would never work with Master Lobo. I only know part of the story." Page then proceeded to tell Carl the history of Madame Carronade, newly minted wealth, and Sea Grove.


Computer nerds had changed the world and had made a fortune in the process. The San Francisco Bay Area boasted hundreds of millionaires and dozens of billionaires. But the price of that prosperity was that they had very little social life. Many of these men and women had been the social outcasts, the bullied, or the invisible ones in school. They had not dated, gone to prom, or fumbled awkwardly in the back of a car. They had been laughed at and rejected by those that they had admired or lusted after from afar.

Slaves could not reject you. They were the safe harbor for these captains of the Geek Navy. But often slaves were only an imperfect fix. A wealthy man or woman, (women had become the fastest growing segment of the slave buyers in the area, ) often bought as their first slave one that was cheap, which meant untrained and inexperienced. They would have done better to buy an older slave for their first so that they would not have to fight and struggle with the most basic of training. But older slaves are not, for the most part, pretty slaves and are rarely bought by the neophyte. Shy and unable to create the personal and sexual haven they crave, many new owners become frustrated and sell the slave quickly. But the sexual and social needs of these sparkplugs of the new economy still needed to be met.

Madame Carronade had stepped in to fill the void. She opened Sea Grove, a computer nerd's sexual salvation. Sea Grove, named somewhat in honor of her family home in Seacliff, was a combination brothel, hotel, slave market and training house located in South San Francisco. Her exclusive clientele, only those wealthy enough to buy a slave were considered, could book a stay and have the services of a beautiful and well trained slave for the weekend. After that magical and very expensive experience, they were after all very well trained slaves, most returned for longer stays and more exploration in the world of sexual gratification. Often the client learned about their own personal appetites and Madam Carronade arranged for the client to meet their perfect slave match. Madam Carronade's slaves could be trained to interact in society with grace, be quiet and unseen when needed, cook, knew first aid and sometimes spoke three languages. They were healthy and at peace with their situation. A slave from Sea Grove could cost as much as thirty times the normal rate for a slave, but the demand for them was constantly growing.

For a slave to be purchased by Madam Carronade was a fortunate day in their bleak destiny of slavery. Her staff treated them firmly and trained her slaves thoroughly, but was not prone to excessive suffering like Master Lobo. The owners, having paid such a very high price, took better care of them than most. If a slave did not perform as promised or did not keep herself in the proper physical shape, (some geeks liked their girls chubby), Madame Carronade had a guarantee policy that allowed them to return the unacceptable slave and consider another. The slave that had been returned would be resold to the suck bars or brothels in Oakland. Slaves were rarely returned to Sea Grove.


At the same moment that Page was filling in Carl on the history of Madame Carronade, the group of mercenaries arrived at the casino. Not knowing that their presence had been detected, they headed to the freight elevator as well for the ride up to the mezzanine level. Instead, the elevator controls were overridden by casino security and the six were delivered, not one floor above, but one floor below the beeping and ringing slot machines. Twelve men armed with shotguns greeted the six when the elevator doors opened.


The house was located in the Seacliff neighborhood of San Francisco, just west of the former army base called The Presidio at the southern landing of the Golden Gate Bridge. It was one of the most expensive and exclusive neighborhoods in the city. The view out of the salon bay windows rivaled the view from their condo. The Pacific Ocean and the Golden Gate Bridge dominated the scene.

Unlike most of the residence in Seacliff, Madam Carronade came from old money. The Seacliff house had been in her family for four generations. She had been offered eight figures for the house and grounds a dozen times by the newly minted millionaires of Silicon Valley. The offers were never answered. A very few select clients and even fewer friends were invited to Madam Carronade's home.

Upon arrival Carl and his three companions were escorted under guard to a ground floor suite with a bathroom. They were told Madame Carronade would receive them in about half an hour. Willow, still soiled for her encounter with Neal and his three friends, went with Page to get cleaned up. Heather stood in a corner of the room looking terrified. Shortly after Willow and Page reemerged cleaned up and with makeup and hair restored, there was a knock on the door. A guard asked the four to follow him and they were shown into the main salon.

There were two leather couches facing each other with a large chair at the end formed a U shape. Carl sat on one of the couches and the two slaves knelt near his feet. Page quietly coached Willow on the proper position and posture. Heather sat nervously on the edge of the other couch across from Carl. It was such a beautiful room and setting that it would have been easy to forget there were three members of the security team standing in the shadows along the walls.

But it would have impossible to overlook the slave near the window. There was a small platform about a foot tall with a brilliant white cushion. Kneeling on the cushion was a small girl. She could not have been five feet tall, wearing floppy black dog ears and a bright white leather collar with dog tags. Her skin was dark and her facial features were regal. The white cushion and collar made her skin look even darker. She wore her long hair in dreadlocks, and pert breasts were tipped with nipples that were pierced with silver rings. Her hands were encased in mittens that had heavy, stiff padding on the palms. On her feet she wore a shoe like device that would cause great pain if she tried to walk upright. Carl could see a bushy tail sticking out behind her. She also was holding a rubber toy shaped like a bone in her mouth. As the group walked past her, she softly whimpered and moved her ass so as to wag her tail.

About five minutes after they had settled, a large man came into the room. He was at least five inches above six feet tall. His skin was mocha and his build was lean but well-muscled. That was obvious because he was wearing a tight black tee-shirt with charcoal slacks with black leather shoes. Carl stood as the man walked slowly to the group. He thought he was going to sit in the chair, but stopped just behind it and put his hands on the high back.

"Good evening, my name is Simon." He turned to Heather and cocked his head, "You are one of the employees from the Nimitz, from the hospitality suite, correct?"

Heather shot to her feet, "Yes sir."

He turned to one of the men close by, "Take her to the mistress. She is expecting her." When Heather and the guard had left and the door was shut, Simon addressed the three that remained. "This is the house of Madame Carronade. I am Simon, head of slave operations. It is important that you understand our house rules. We are an orderly house. Slaves are to remain silent unless addressed. Freemen are to be respectful and courteous. As you can see we have an extensive security team, so you are safe."

Simon turned and walked over to where the girl knelt on the cushion. As he approached she placed her chin down on the cushion and stuck her ass in the air, wagging her tail like a playful puppy. "Sea Grove is a specialty house. What we have found is that there is no set shape, weight, size, or type of slave that covers everyone's preferences. Instead, our clients pay a premium for training, behavior, skill, and a willingness to please." Simon stroked the slave's dark skin just above her ass. "This one here is called Muffin. Poodles should have cute names, don't you think?" Simon looked Carl's way who nodded only because it was clearly expected. "She is our sample model for extreme behavior modification. She has not uttered a word in six months. Her father put up with her filthy, bitchy mouth for eighteen years. He offered her to us for free saying she was incorrigible. I broke her and trained her for my use and as a marketing tool. He recently offered me one hundred thousand dollars to buy her back. I declined."

Simon turned back to Carl, "Are you in need of anything? Can I get you a drink?"

"No thank you, we are fine," Carl responded.

"We? I was told you are the master of these slaves. Do you ask them what they want? I do not ask slaves. I do not offer them a choice. Here we operate by one simple rule called 'Simon says.'"

At that moment, for the opposite direction that Simon had entered, Madame Carronade strode into the room. "This is not his slave. This is Lord Blackmon's slave named Page. So, Master Carl, we have a mystery, one of many to explore this evening I believe." She came to the group and stood in front of the chair and looked Carl up and down.

Carl was able to get a good look at her too. She had changed her clothes from when they had seen her at the casino. She now wore a white wrap-around dress tied at the waist. Her impressive cleavage was on display as was a goodly portion of leg. Carl was again impressed by her flawless skin and her regal bearing but was completely stymied in regard to her age. He could not help but feel drawn to her beauty and presence.

She looked around the room, "We have some important things to discuss, but I need to set the stage somewhat." Madame Carronade turned back to Carl, "Did the girl Heather give you good service? I mean is there..."

"Madame, Heather was of great help and served very well."

"Good, well..." she turned back the tall man and handed him a slip of paper, "Simon, please make the following arrangements regarding the girl." Simon glanced at the note then snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor. Muffin eased herself down and crawled to Simon's side. They left the room through the same door Heather and the guard had.

Madame Carronade then turned back to Carl, "Master Carl, may I please have a moment with Page?

"Certainly," he replied.

"Feet!" Madame Carronade barked. Page shot up and put her hands on top of her head and spread her feet apart. The woman in white approached Page, looking at her marks.

"Master Carl, are these your whip marks?"

"Madame, it was by my order, but no, I was not holding the whip." Carl replied.

"Why was she whipped?" She asked.

"Madame, that is a matter between Page and me. If we have a problem..." Carl began, marshalling his Master persona.

Madame Carronade reached up and stroked Page's cheek with her finger, "I have long coveted Page. I would inquire as to how much you would take for her?"

Carl's voice was ice cold, "I believe we should be going now. Thank you for your help in leaving the casino, but I am sure you have other things to attend to."

Madam Carronade put up her hand, "Please wait a moment." She then turned to Simon that had just returned, "Please clear the room, make certain we are not disturbed." Carl and the impressive mistress of the house locked eyes until everyone else had left and the door was shut.

At the sound of the door closing, Madame Carronade turned to Page and smiled. But this was a different sort of smile than the sexually charged look of a Mistress. The smile she gave Page was one of real joy. "Page! I have been searching for you. I feared that Master Lobo had taken you."

Page, who had always seemed unflappable to Carl, was obviously startled by Madame Carronade's declaration. "Mistress, I have been in Master Carl's care. I am sorry for causing..."

The mistress of the house slapped Page across the face. The blow snapped Page's head around and staggered her back. Carl shot to his feet but was stopped when he was pinned by Madame Carronade's stare. "I see..." she said as she looked Carl back into his seat. "Rule one here sir, I make the rules. I promise you would not make it ten feet past this room." She sat down in the high backed armchair and crossed her legs. "That was a test. I wanted to see how you would react, to see if you valued her. I must say, you passed. So, we both have some stories to tell, so please tell me, who are you?"

"I am Master Carl and this..." Carl began.

"You are not a slave owner, at least not one that would own a slave like Page, and I know that Lord Blackmon did not give her up. So, which one of you wishes to tell me the story?"

"Please Mistress," Page said, "It was never our intention to deceive you. Please allow me to explain."

The woman in white looked at Carl but spoke to Page. "Slave, please kneel and speak plainly. Who is this and what are you doing with him?"

So it was that Page began with the bombing in Fresno, Willow's rescue of her and Lord Blackmon, Page's plan to give Lord Blackmon a gift upon his return and Carl's involvement. She told her about their trip to the Master's Expo and how that had become complicated. She did not mention Willow's brother or his involvement with the slave rescue. "So we are in Master Carl's care with Lord Blackmon's knowledge and approval."

When this story gets more text, you will need to Log In to read it

Close
 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.