National Trussed (or the Ex-factor) - Cover

National Trussed (or the Ex-factor)

Copyright© 2011 by Freddie Clegg

Chapter 12: Sales Negotiations

BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 12: Sales Negotiations - Freddie Clegg's friend has a problem with his ex-wives that only their disappearance can solve.

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   NonConsensual   Slavery   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Rough  

"Freddie, I'd like to help you out, but I'm not sure," Lee Kuan said as the two met in the King George Palace Hotel in Athens. The two men were sitting on the hotel terrace, looking out across the Plaka towards the Acropolis. A rowdy group in the street below were protesting the latest round of Government cuts. Ellie Grant, who'd joined Freddie on his trip to the Greek capital, was sitting a little way away. She preferred to leave him to get on with things. A half-read Stig Larson lay face down beside the empty coffee cup on the table. She pulled her sunglasses down from her head and relaxed in the warmth of the mid-morning sun. Freddie would be a while.

"Don't worry, I'm not looking for a favour. I thought it might be your sort of thing but, if not, then no problem." Freddie was used to Lee Kuan's negotiating style. As always in these discussions, it was more like fly fishing than trawling for a buyer. "I just thought you'd like something green, something you can put your own stamp on, so to speak."

"Completely green?" The upward inflexion convinced Freddie there was at least a flicker of interest.

Freddie nodded. "No training at all. Only the necessary force associated with abduction, transport, and the rather short-term confinement they've had so far."

"Which is how long?"

Freddie was happy with the way the conversation was going. If Lee Kuan wasn't interested, he wouldn't bother to ask. He looked at his watch. "Four days, so far."

"And you've got one that's perhaps got a little more mileage than usual?"

"Yes. Looks better than its license plate would have you guess. Nice upholstery. Compact."

"I'll have a think. No promises. Have you got a spec sheet?" He sounded uncertain but Freddie was pretty sure he'd go for Denise. He was sure to be interested in seeing her trained from scratch, Freddie felt; he'd often talked about his ideas on training methods. Denise had got the sort of comfortable shape he went for, too: not too skinny, not too tall.

Freddie tossed over the SD Card with its encrypted cache of files. The girls' photographs, physical details and such personal attributes as Freddie felt able to warrant were on there, too. Freddie operated strictly on a buyer-beware basis, but he liked to give his customers the best possible data on which to make their decisions.

 
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