Chapter 7

It was early evening when Carl returned to Rose House. He had found a coffee shop in downtown Pleasanton that had internet access and had been doing some research. He had used his iPad to find the hotel his friend Tom had mentioned. It was located just north of SFO, the common term used for San Francisco’s airport. He searched their website and other pictures tagged as having been taken in the hotel to get a feel for the interior. Of course there was no mention of an illicit poker room there, but they were set up with at least a dozen banquet and meeting rooms that could be used for that purpose. He mentally walked through the front doors, to the front desk, located the exits, elevators, service doors, even the bathrooms. He also tried to find some information on the ownership of the hotel but did not find anything worth noting.

He wanted to get a feel for the site itself so he drove for an hour to see the outside of the building with his own eyes. He noted what the parking structure looked like and how the access was controlled. He also got an idea about what buildings and businesses were around site itself. He then turned his car south on Highway 101 and began the almost two hour drive back to Rose House. He did not mind, he wanted the time to digest what he had seen and learned.

He walked in the front door still thinking about his reconnaissance. Heather’s greeting brought him back to the present, “Welcome home master! How may I serve you?” She wore her green collar and cuff set but with a matching green bustier and boots. He thought the outfit may have been the one he had acquired for her at the Nimitz. Wherever it had come from it set off her hair and pale skin beautifully. She was kneeling with her back straight but her head bowed.

“I need to speak to Lord Blackmon. Do you know where he is?”

“Yes sir, he is on the deck. May I bring you anything?”

Carl thought for a moment, “Yes, an iced tea. Bring it out to me there.”

“Yes, master.” Heather stood and moved off towards the kitchen.

Carl moved through the house to the French doors that led onto the deck. He found Lord Blackmon sitting on a chase lounge with his healing left foot extended out in front of him. He was turning a black cane in his hand and looking across the deck. Carl followed his gaze.

The heavy post was familiar, but he had not seen it in use for a while. It was in use now. Page’s hands where pulled high over her head so that she was up on her toes. She was naked except for the black leather hood that covered everything from her neck up. She could not see or speak, but the openings in the hood near her ears were open. Between her position and the tight hood, her breathing must have been restricted because her chest was heaving, with the effect of moving her breasts in very provocative ways.

Carl caught Lord Blackmon looking at him. He wondered if this was some sort of test, but he remembered that everything, his being there, his actions, everything was his choice. So, Master Carl, what do you choose to do?

Carl walked up to the bound slave and for a few moments just stared at the sight. He had always been captivated by her tits and her current predicament really made them the center of attention. He reached out and ran a finger across her left nipple. The pattern of her labored breathing changed. He pinched the nipple slightly. Carl thought he heard a moan escape from the leather hood. He pulled it upwards causing her head to twist from side to side. He let go of the nipple then for the next minute he ran his hands over her breasts, touching the underside, stroking in between them, touching the swell of the sides. The bound slave twisted in her bonds in rhythm with his attention. But he recognized that he was intruding on something that Lord Blackmon had planned. Courtesy dictated he should not interfere too much. He took a step back, casting one more look at the sight before turning towards the seated man. “Good evening Lord Blackmon. I hope I did not interrupt your sport just now.”

Lord Blackmon shook his head, “No, not at all. I am conducting a refresher course for Page’s benefit. She has made a request of me and I intend to fulfill that request to the best of my ability. It is going to take a few days of preparation, so in the meantime, could I ask you to make use of the other two slaves for anything sexual. She, on the other hand, will be confined or restrained. Please touch her and tease her, like you just did, all you want. We, all of us, should plan on being here three days from now. We will grant Page’s request then. Is that ok with you?”

The thought of coming events brought Carl back to the subject of Tom’s request. “I would be glad to take part in your plans for Page. But I also have a matter to bring up with you. It does not involve you directly, but I still feel discussing it with you is the right thing to do.” At that moment Heather came out with Carl’s drink.

The seated man indicated a chair close at hand. “Have a seat and lay it out for me.”

Willow looked at the clock on the wall. She was pacing back and forth in the room she shared with Page and Heather. Her slave collar was polished and her strappy heels were spotless. She had groomed and prepped just as Page had taught her, but still it felt like her nerves were trying to fly out of her body. This was going to be her first time with her master, her owner.

Sex was no longer the mystery it once was. She had come into the possession of Lord Blackmon a virgin in every way possible. She had not only been untouched, but she had been surprisingly ignorant. She had hidden behind bulky clothes and an out of shape body. But ever since that day, the day her mother sold her to the slave auction, the day the bomb went off, the day Lord Blackmon and Page had saved her life, she had been preparing for this. She had learned, trained and practiced. She had worked to reshape her body. Even her other sexual encounters were, at least in her mind, preparation and practice for being with her owner and master.

Willow and Heather had encountered him in the workshop that morning. He had told her then that she was to serve him that night. Later in the day Heather had brought her a little more information. Come to me at eight in the evening. Wear something simple. That was all. Oh God, she wished she could talk to Page, but she had been ‘unavailable’ all day.

Thirty more minutes to go.

The whole time Carl talked, Lord Blackmon had stared at the end of the cane he was turning in his hand. Even after Carl had finished his tale he sat unmoving except for the black stick twisting back and forth. Finally Carl asked, “What do you think?”

“Why?”

“Why am I asking what you think?”

The seated man looked up, “No, why do you want to do this?”

Carl had asked himself that question over and over again while driving back. He was ready with an answer that he thought was the most honest, “He is my friend. I once trusted Tom’s judgement to keep me alive in a very dangerous place. He kept his word and I came out of it alive. But now my friend is dying. He came to me to ask this favor. I honor my debts, I honor service, but most of all I honor friendship. I am not doing this for the thrill or for some sense of justice. I am doing this for Tom.”

“That sounds like a very good reason to me. I understand loyalty. Now, what I am hearing is that there are a lot of unknowns in this operation. You do not know the players, you do not know how things are run, you do not know where the landmines are hidden. How will you keep yourself safe?”

“Tom’s contact that tipped him off to the poker room is a regular. It is his invitation, and the one hundred grand in cash, that is going to get me inside. He does not know the connection between the data theft and the hotel so I cannot see how he could burn the operation.”

“But he could burn you.”

Carl thought for a moment, “To what end? If he does not know about the investigation, what would he be giving them if he gives them me? They might not like having a pretender crashing their party, but they would be much less happy with him than with me. I cannot see how he could gain from setting me up.”

Lord Blackmon thought for a minute, “I can see your point, but just because logic says he should not blow your cover does not mean he will not blow your cover. Stupid things happen because stupid people do stupid things.” There was a pause in the conversation as the two men considered the possibilities. “There is one way to keep him from hurting you. Go as yourself.”

Carl was startled. “What do you mean?”

The seated man used his cane to point, “Go as yourself, Master Carl. You have the bank account that explains walking into a poker game with that much money. You are not taking any action that would make them enemies, so no one could be suspicious unless you try to lie. Just go as you. You can then report your observations and be done.”

Very faintly Carl heard the clock in the great room chime the hour. The doors swung open and Willow stepped out onto the deck. She looked so different than the wild child from the night before. All of the extra chains were gone. She only wore a simple slave collar and high heeled sandals. Her two nipple piercings were made from dark metal and were only noticeable if you were looking for them. Her makeup was subdued and elegant and her short black hair was slicked back close to her head. Her carriage was regal and her movements smooth and sensual. As she approached Lord Blackmon he saw she had something in her hand. She went to her knees in front of her master and held out a rose, a red rose from the garden, to him. “My lord, as you command, so I obey.”

He touched her lightly on the thigh with his cane, “Willow, manners matter to me. Please be polite and greet everyone present.”

She rose to her feet, turned and said, “Good evening Master Carl, how are you?”

“I am fine. You look lovely tonight.”

Willow smiled, “Thank you sir. It is a special night!” She then looked at the slave next to Carl, “How are you tonight Heather?”

Heather bowed and said, “I am very well, thank you.”

Willow began to turn back to her master when she caught her first sight of Page bound to the whipping post, “Good evening Page.” In response she got two nods from the hooded slave.

“Willow, come sit here.” The slave moved close to her master and turned around. She then slowly lowered herself onto the chaise between the man’s legs, pressing her ass into his groin. She then slowly spread her legs to display her hairless sex to all. Her hands moved behind her back as she leaned back to make contact with Lord Blackmon’s chest.

“Willow and I are getting acquainted tonight. She belongs to me but I know so little about her.” He turned his attention back to Carl, “May I offer you some advice regarding our earlier discussion?”

“Sure.”

“I strongly suggest again that you do this without any falsehood. Go as yourself. Not only that, but use your own money. Use their plan, lose five thousand and then exit, but do it with your own money. If the interested parties want your information, they will gladly reimburse you. If you are caught, there is nothing to hide or trace back to you that you were spying on them. You have the means to risk that amount, use it for your piece of mind.” Lord Blackmon’s hand had come around and was toying with the piercing in Willow’s right nipple. “Second, go as quickly as you can. Do not wait on them or you risk your name being associated with the Feds. Go as soon as you can, and without notice to your friend or his bosses, just get it done and be done with them.”

Carl could not fault any of Lord Blackmon advice. He did have the means to minimize his risk and still help his friend. He decided to move in that direction. “You offer wise advice. Thanks.” Willow’s eyes were locked on Carl. He knew she had a strong exhibitionist streak and he could tell she was getting turned on by having an audience. “The biggest problem I see is the contact that is supposed to get me into the game room. That is the direct connection between me and the agents and that is where I think the betrayal or exposure is most likely to come. Do you see a way around that?”

Lord Blackmon’s hand left the nipple he had been teasing and dropped to Willow’s sex, “Well, yes I can think of one thing to try. You need someone to let you into the game. Someone outside the room has to have control of who goes in or not. You need to motivate that person to let you in.” His middle finger was slowly traveling up and down the right side of her pussy. Willow, still staring at Carl, spread her legs a little wider and her hips were gyrating slowly. “Most likely it is the concierge. He has access to the information about guests and is in a good position to screen people.”

Carl cocked his head sideways in a thoughtful manner, but in reality was trying to get a better look at the finger that had begun circling Willow’s clit, “So, what you are thinking is that I need to check in, making my presence there legitimate, and approach the concierge regarding a friendly game of cards?”

“I had not thought about the checking in part. That is a good detail. There will be no doubt you are who you say you are. But I was thinking about how to motivate him to help you.”

“Money?”

“The buy-in for the game is a hundred grand. I am not sure you could offer him a tip big enough to take a chance on a stranger without you passing him a suitcase of money. You need to offer him something different.”

“The dentist,” Willow said in a voice breathy with passion.

“What?” Lord Blackmon’s paused for a moment as he turned to look at the girl in his lap.

Carl chuckled loudly, “Oh, yes that might...” He tore his eyes away Willow to look at the man seated behind her. “Willow’s teeth needed some work. We found a dentist but he was reluctant to work on a slave. Page provided ... motivation for his help.”

Lord Blackmon raised his eyebrows while his finger went back to work, “Yes, that might do it. But you need to keep my name out of this. Page or Willow could be traced back to me. You would need to use your own slave as the ‘motivation’.”