Willow Book III Master Carl
Chapter 12

Copyright© 2016 by gorp

Horror Sex Story: Chapter 12 - Book III in the Willow series is set in an extreme universe where absolute female slavery is allowed and even promoted by society and the government. This is the continuing story of Page, Willow, Heather, Lord Blackmon and Master Carl. What happens when Lord Blackmon returns? How will Carl adjust to Lord Blackmon's return? Will Heather become a slave in the mold of Page or will she find a different way to endure her enslavement? Who will they meet along the way? Read and find out!

Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   NonConsensual   Coercion   Slavery   Horror   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   Rough   Sadistic   Torture   Caution  

The empty office had once held a headhunting firm for the tech industry. They were often created to supply employees for a specific firm or company, signing up people for temporary positions that might later become permanent. Once the ranks have been filled out the employment agency would fold. That meant that office space like this changed hands three or four times a year. This office space had been unoccupied for six weeks and was due for renovation the following week. But till then there were no cameras, no alarms, no security and no record of the three people that were meeting there.

“This is bad.”

Madame Carronade had started the video on a tablet and pushed it across the cheap desk so the two men could watch what had become a horror show for her. The video told it all. Toni, the slave Carl had seen at the poker game, laid out the entire plot and it sounded like Madame Carronade was at the heart of it all. Master Carl and Lord Blackmon listened as she described being approached by Matt during her second stage of training. She indicated that Matt had told her Sea Grove, one of the premier slave houses, had a secret relationship with the Government to place slaves in sensitive locations so that they could spy for them.

Carl shook his head, “It makes complete sense. She could be placed in the home of an executive of a high-tech firm and she uses her skillset to either find the information or at least create some kind of remote access to their system so others can steal the information. Spies need motivation and what could be more motivating than being rescued from slavery?”

The furious woman poked the table with her finger, “She was convinced she would complete her assignment and then would be extracted by the government. She has the technical background to do it too. After extraction, her slave status would be revoked and she would be relocated to another state.”

Lord Blackmon, leaning on his black cane, had a troubled look on his face, “I thought she was already contracted to someone else. How was she to be diverted for her spy mission?”

The tall woman growled, “I am not sure. There are still holes in our understanding and only Matt knows the details of that and we have not had our little chat yet.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Gary has him at The Gallery. I am going to get answers and then I am going to take him apart. If I am going to be made a slave because of his greed and stupidity, my last act will be to see him...”

Carl stood up, “That is murder and we have been down this road before. I cannot ... will not be a party to murder. Plus, it could come back on Lord Blackmon and me. We could be charged with conspiracy at least. You can’t do that.”

“He has ruined me! He has killed me!” Madame Carronade screamed, “He has killed me and you care about him?”

“I don’t give a shit about him, but I do care about Lord Blackmon, and myself, and I care about you. Kill him and we have no source of information nor any real connection to the actual operation.”

“I will get the information...” she snarled

“Yes and it will be worthless to the FBI because it was obtained under torture.” Carl could see the woman shaking with rage. He was sure that his argument would not carry the day and that Madame Carronade will flay the flesh off of Matt one piece at a time.

Lord Blackmon cleared his voice, “Say that again.”

Both Carl and the tall woman looked at him in confusion. “I said information obtained by the torture is worthless to the FBI in court?” Carl repeated.

Lord Blackmon raised his eyebrows, “We may have been looking at this all wrong...”


Despite the cruel teasing, by evening Heather and Willow were ready to help Page relax, however she had made it clear that relaxing did not mean she got to cum. The large tub was filled with steaming water that eased the muscles, soothed the chafed skin and calmed the jangled nerves. Heather sat across from Page and rubbed her feet while Heather gently washed her hair. She let out a sigh and leaned back into the redhead behind her. “Thank you.”

Willow switched feet, “How much longer is this thing going to go on?”

Page opened her eyes and looked at the girl across the tub from her, “Tomorrow.”

The redhead finally could not stand the suspense any longer, “Are you ever going to tell us what all of this has been about?”

Page took a deep breath, “Why should I tell you?”

“Well, it just seems fair...”

Page pulled away and slipped down into the water to rinse her hair, turned over, then came up on her knees in front of Heather. Her voice held steel as she snarled, “Don’t ever use that word near me again. Understand?”

Heather looked confused, “What word? You mean, f...”

The slap Page delivered to Heather’s face echoed from the tiled walls of the bathroom. The blow knocked Heather sideways. When she finally turned around, Page had stepped out of the tub and was draping herself in a terrycloth robe. She rushed from the room leaving the other two slaves still in the tub.

Heather rubbed the hand print that was beginning to show on her face. She looked at Willow, “What the fuck?”

Willow’s face was sad as she said, “Never speak to a soldier about hope, never talk to a gambler about luck and never, ever, bring up to a slave the word fair. It is just too confusing, too cruel.”

A few minutes later Heather found Page in the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and sitting in front of the mirror drying her hair. She waited until Page was finished then stepped close and said, “I wanted to say I am sorry. I forget ... who I am.”

“I did not hurt you as much as you hurt yourself. I will not lecture you on the attitude you need except to say it will only get harder from here. Choose to live or choose to die.”

Heather bowed her head, “You rescued Willow and the two of you rescued me. I would have been lost except for you and Willow. How can I express my gratitude?”

Page used her finger to lift Heather’s chin, “Show me you have heard what I have been saying by choosing to live, by being there to pick me up when it gets hard for me. You are bound to Master Carl, be there for him too.”

As Page stood the towel fell away and she looked at herself in the mirror. “Pick up the oil over there and attend me.” Heather watched as the beautiful blonde gathered her hair in her hands and elegantly piled it on top of her head. She stood there holding her hair with both hands while Heather poured the body oil in her hands and spread it slowly across the base of Page’s neck and the top of her back. The oil ran down her spine down to her lower back. The redhead became mesmerized by the glistening sheen and the soft skin under her fingers. More oil went into her hands and then across and in between the globes of her ass. Just a short time before Heather would not have imagined having such intimate contact with another woman, but now she was deftly making sure the oil reached all around the tall girl’s asshole. More oil and a firm touch spread it around each thigh and calf. Even her feet, heel and toes were given attention.

Then Heather moved between Page and the mirror pouring a generous amount on her hands and working it around her collarbone and shoulders. The bottle came up and she poured an excessive amount of the glistening liquid directly on to Page’s full breasts and them began to methodically spread it. Because Heather was shorter, she was almost eye to eye with two saturated nipples as they puckered from the slow, firm attention. Each part of her tits got consideration, from the swell of the outside, to the fullness under the nipple, to the magical space in between. Plenty of oil had migrated down onto Page’s belly and hips. But one more generous handful of oil was worked into the tender folds of Page’s sex causing her knees to buckle for a moment.

 
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