Chapter 11

Sandi Goes to Work

Dave backed the car out of the garage while I stood waiting beside the driveway. I’m aware of my neighbors. They’re getting their morning papers, leaving for work, going through whatever their morning routines might be. I wondered if they saw me last night. I wondered if they watched me mow the grass while all but naked, and then later in the backyard while I was, in fact, naked. I wondered if they’re looking at me now and if they can see my breasts through the sheer blouse Dave ordered me to wear. I wondered what they must all be saying about Kenzie and me now.

It’s all too disturbing to think about but how do I stop!?

The car came to a stop in front of me and I climbed into the passenger seat beside Dave. I feel only slightly less exposed in the car. It’s unlikely anyone can see me now. But this is a precursor of things to come. Every time I sit down for the foreseeable future my pussy is going to be exposed the way it is now. Every blouse I own is as sheer as the one I’m wearing this morning. Most of the dresses are just as daring. I own two dresses just like the one Kenzie is wearing to school today. It won’t be long before I’ll be going out in public dressed that way.

I’ve never been to Dave’s business. As I mentioned, I don’t really know what he does. I don’t know what a “producer and wholesaler” does. Until this moment it never occurred to me ask what it is he produces and wholesales!

Time passed quickly as I pondered my total loss of dignity and the train wreck my life has become. It seemed like we only left the house a minute ago but we were pulling into the parking lot of Dave’s building. I was surprised to see the large, modern building Dave owns. It’s a recently constructed brick and aluminum building on the edge of the new business park out near the airport. I knew he was doing well but still I’m impressed. There are other buildings farther down the road but nothing really close.

He parked in his reserved space and we got out of the car. I stood there looking around. I can’t help worrying about all the humiliation I’m going to experience when his employees see me in this outfit. I suppose what I’m what I’m about to be subjected to will only be the smallest taste of what poor Kenzie has to go through at the mercy of Dave’s evil spawn of Satan son. But that doesn’t make it any easier to face my own day of humiliation.

Even standing here looking at the building the nature of Dave’s business is still a mystery. From the outside there’s no outward indication of what they do inside. There’s one sign on the building, a large one across the front of the building which proudly notifies anyone going past that this is the home of “Black Knight Enterprises.”

Cryptic, and because of what I’ve learned about Dave in the last few days, less than comforting. If a person didn’t already know what happens in this building, what Black Knight Enterprises “produces and wholesales,” they would get no clues from the outside of the building.

I hurried to catch up and followed Dave inside. We went down a long, wide hallway past several large, modern, obviously well-equipped offices. We passed people in the hallway. They greeted Dave warmly enough but they hardly seemed to notice me. As strange as it seems they didn’t look at me any differently than they would have before I was forced to wear this collar and these slutty clothes. They didn’t even seem to notice my tits are on display!

We were almost at the end of the hallway before I noticed that more than a few of the people in the offices and some of the people we passed in the hallway are dressed in slutty clothing like me and wearing collars! That was scary enough. But even scarier was the number of them. Most of them are female. But there are quite a few men, too. And looking around it quickly became apparent that there are far more slaves walking around and working in offices than were present at the gang rape to which my daughter and I were subjected at Bare as You Dare!

Why are there so many?! Is this where slave’s go when they’re masters tire of them and they aren’t sold? Or do the slave owners who raped us that day own large numbers of slaves, herds of them?

We finally entered the office at the end of the hallway. We walked past a woman dressed just like me and wearing a collar. I assume she’s the receptionist. She jumped to her feet and stood at attention when we entered the room. As Dave walked by her she handed him a stack of phone messages without a word. I followed Dave into his large, lavishly decorated office. As soon as the door closed behind me I asked, “Where do they all come from?!”

He smiled, but totally ignored my question. He sat at his desk, looked over his phone messages and made a few phone calls while I stood beside his desk in shock. Finally’ he stood up and said, “Come on. I’ll show you around. Pay attention to the layout of the building. You’re going to have to know your way around. I didn’t bring you to work just so you could suck my cock when I’m in the mood. You’re going to be busy. You’ll be sucking and fucking, too. But when you aren’t doing that you won’t be just sitting around relaxing.”

I followed him back out of his office. The woman receptionist popped back up and stood at attention when we came out. He informed her he’s taking me on a tour of the building. She glanced at me and for just a second I saw sympathy in her eyes. That didn’t do much for my peace of mind.

She replied, “Yes, sir.”

We stepped out into the hallway and through another door to our immediate right. There’s a box on the wall beside the door into which he punched a four digit code to unlock it. He opened the door and said, “The code is 1369. Remember it.”

I quietly replied, “Yes sir.”

It won’t be hard to remember. The number describes me to a T now. Thirteen = unlucky and sixty-nine = cocksucker. Unlucky cocksucker! If that isn’t an accurate description of my present predicament nothing is.

We walked slowly down another long hallway. As we walked he said, “I located my office in the center of the building so that no matter where they are in the building the slaves will be within two hundred feet of me. I don’t keep all of their fobs on me at all times, of course. But when I’m not here they’re secured in a safe place insuring they can’t try to escape.”

He then pointed out the signs on the doors we’re passing; mixing, editing, sound. It’s beginning to look like this is a recording or a movie studio!

Most of the doors that open onto this hallway are closed. But as we were passing one door it opened and a young male slave stepped out, or he started to. He stopped halfway through the door and waited nervously for us to pass. I looked in and saw a naked woman bent over a desk being fucked from behind by the only person in the room not wearing a slave collar.

Dave came to a stop, nodded in the direction of the couple copulating over the desk and asked, “How’s your mother doing?”

The boy couldn’t have been older than Kenzie. He turned an even darker shade of red and replied, “She’s fine, sir.”

“That’s good. How about you? Is that piercing healing up?”

The boy glanced at me and quietly answered, “It’s all healed, sir.”

“Great! I understand they have a new script all ready for you.”

“Yes, sir.”

As we walked away Dave said, “I didn’t much care for the movies with boys in them when I first got started in this business. But some of them have become my biggest sellers. I’ve even gotten to where I don’t mind having a good-looking boy sucking my cock or bending him over and reaming out his ass. It’s especially exciting when his parents are there and have to watch. I sometimes wonder if I’m not turning into a pervert. What do you think, cunt?”

I was shocked he’d even ask! I’ve never met a worse pervert, except maybe for his son. I assumed it was a rhetorical question until he stopped, turned around and glared at me. I saw no reason to lie. He knows what the truth is. I looked him right in the eyes and said, “You know what I think. Your actions speak for themselves. Of course you’re a pervert! Or did you want me to lie to you?”

He grinned and said, “I expected you to lie. Tell me, did the truth set you free?”

There was a thinly veiled promise of suffering to come in that question. But does it really matter? They’ve made it clear all the terrible things I’ve come to fear since last Friday are going to happen anyway. What’s the point of trying to avoid the inevitable?

We continued on down the hallway and turned a corner. We stopped at the first door we came to and he pointed to a flashing red light. He said, “That means they’re filming. Don’t make a fucking sound in that room. If they have to reshoot a scene because of you I’ll take the cost out of your hide.”

He slowly pushed the door open and we stepped inside. I covered my mouth just in time to mute the gasp I couldn’t keep from escaping when I saw what they’re filming. The room has the appearance of a dungeon in an ancient castle. The walls are all covered in dark stone, whether real or fake I can’t tell. A naked man and woman are tied to chairs. Beside each of them stands a large man plunging his cock into their mouths.

But they aren’t the primary focus of the scene. A boy and a girl are hanging by their wrists from the rough, stone walls. They look enough alike that they must be brother and sister. They might even be twins. Both appear to be about sixteen years old. And both are being whipped by large naked men who it’s plain to see are really enjoying what they’re doing.

The kids aren’t bleeding. But their entire bodies are covered with red welts. The couple being force fed those large cocks are being forced to watch as their children, or two kids playing their children, are being whipped mercilessly. It has obviously been going on for quite a while. The kids aren’t even screaming any longer. They just moan and twitch each time they’re struck.

None of them are wearing collars but I can see faint signs that they have only recently been removed. All four of those people are someone’s slaves now.

My attention was drawn back to the cruel whipping when one of the men snarled, “How about it boy? Had enough? You ready to do what you’re told?”

The boy only whined and nodded weakly.

The girl answered the same way when the man whipping her asked the same question.

The two large men unhooked the chains holding them in place about a foot off the floor and lowered the two kids until their feet were on the floor. As soon as they released the chains, though, both kids fell to their knees and remained there sobbing. It’s plain to see they aren’t acting.

One of the many men who’s standing behind the cameramen and the soundmen yelled, “CUT! Get set up for the next scene! Alright, everyone! Take ten!”

The director is aware we’re watching. As people started scurrying around the set he turned and crossed the room. He glanced at me, appraising me in a way that made me very nervous. He ordered me to lift my skirt and turn around. While I was obeying that order he said to Dave, “We’re right on schedule. It’s going very well. Surprising since it’s their first movie. It’s going to be money maker.”

The director nodded in my direction and asked, “How long before you put her and her kid to work? Those two are hot! They’re gonna be big stars here!”

Dave replied, “They just got pierced. It’ll probably be a couple of months. But they can be fluffers. It’ll be good practice for them. I’ll let you know when you can use them.”

We left the room or studio or whatever it’s called. As soon as the door closed behind us I asked, “Is that really a family of four?!”

Surprisingly, he answered!

“Yeah. Their old man got into hock to a loan shark big time. He gave up on trying to get his money back and was about to have them killed when a member of our group found out about it. He offered to buy the whole family for what they owed the guy. The loan shark didn’t give a damn. He just wanted his money. They put it to the parents and they agreed. By the time they realized what they had gotten themselves involved in they were collared and it was too late to back out.

“They’ve been to a few parties at Bare as You Dare. But today is their first day here. They’re a bunch of holy rollers. They were home schooling their kids to protect them from the horrors of public schools so it worked out pretty well for the guy and his wife who own them now. He tells me they’ve been much easier to break than he thought they’d be. And god! You oughta see the faces on mom and daughter when they’re getting fucked! They hate it even more than you and Kenzie if that’s possible.

“And dad and the boy were bigger homophobes than I was. It’s a real trip watching them suck a nice hard cock or take it up the ass. They’re movies are going to be big sellers for a long time.”

“Don’t you worry about getting caught and going to prison?! Almost everything you do is illegal!”

He laughed and shook his head. “No. I put out legitimate porn, too. It gives me a good cover and makes a little money. The good stuff doesn’t sell in stores or on the internet. You have to be on the list and to get on the list you have to be vouched for by someone on the list and undergo an extensive background investigation. I have a file folder full of customer’s names, addresses and sexual preferences. They pay a fucking fortune for those movies and they all know to never mention where they get them from because we have people who deal very harshly with indiscreet customers.

“There’s always a chance something can go wrong. But as you already know, we’re very well connected, both here in this state and nationally. Our international customers are the sort of people who don’t have to answer to anyone about anything. And they come in handy if we want to dispose of a slave. They can always be put to work in a whorehouse in South America or Asia if they become unruly or they’re just no longer entertaining. That’s something for you and Kenzie to keep in mind. You’d both be very popular in Thailand, Saudi Arabia or a dozen other places I can name.”

I tried not to imagine that ever happening. Since he’s in a talkative mood I asked again, “What about all those slaves who work here? Do they all belong to you?!”

“No. The majority of them do. It isn’t a large part of my business but I buy, sell and trade slaves when there’s a little money to be made from it. Some belong to others in the group and work here full time. Their owners receive a small sum for their services. It helps to offset the cost of owning a slave.

“A few, like that family you just saw making that movie, belong to group members and are just on loan for a movie. All the slaves make movies. There’s no schedule or anything. The writers come up with a script and we select the best slaves for the roles.”

He turned and I followed him down the hall. We visited two more studios. In the second studio Dave pointed out several naked women sucking on the cocks of some men waiting off to the side of the set. He said, “Those are fluffers. They suck on the men’s cocks to get them hard for a scene. You might like it. The men can’t cum in your mouth. They have to save it for the movie. Of course, after they stop for the day you’ll have to take care of the crew. They’re usually pretty turned on, though. It doesn’t usually take long.”

I asked, “Do the men in the film crews all own slaves, too?”

“Most of them do. It’s safer if everyone involved is at risk. But there are a few who are just dyed-in-the-wool perverts and love all this shit. They don’t, or can’t, own their own slaves. But the concept appeals to them and they like the idea that they can fuck pretty much any of these cunts anytime they want to. Not everyone who owns a slave is a member of the society. Getting into the society is very difficult and very expensive. Most of these guys couldn’t afford it.”

He saw the look of concern on my face and asked, “What?”

“Can all these men fuck me?”

He laughed and replied, “No. Not yet anyway. Not without my permission.”

He caught the eye of a slave girl standing behind the crew as if waiting for someone to tell her what to do. He waved her over and she almost ran. It’s obvious she’s terrified of Dave.

She came to a stop in front of him with a fearful look on her face. Dave pointed out a small, bright red tattoo on her cheek just below her ear. I looked closer and saw that it’s a pair of manacles connected by a tiny chain.

He asked, “Do you see that? Do you see what it is?”

I nodded.

“That means that unlike you and Kenzie, she has to fuck anyone, any time, and any place. She cannot refuse anyone anything.”

The slave he called over to show me her tattoo is no longer a teenager. But she’s a beautiful young woman, still in her early twenties. I almost didn’t ask for fear of what the answer might be. But I can’t help being curious.

“How did she earn that tattoo?”

He looked me in the eye, raised his eyebrows meaningfully and said, “She asked someone for help.”

“And it turned out to be someone in the club?”

“No. It was someone she has known for a very long time and trusted. She thought of him as a close friend. But Arnie intercepted him when he went to the cop shop to file a complaint and we were able to convince the guy it would be in his best interest to overlook her indiscretion. He now gets all the pussy any man could ever want and even gets to come to our parties once in a while. He has become a big customer of our movies, too! The stupid bitch didn’t realize it at the time. But she really changed that guy’s life. I think she’s probably a lot less trusting now. Aren’t you, cunt?”

There are tears streaming down her cheeks. She whispered, “Yes, sir.”

We departed that studio and continued our tour of the building. They were filming in studio 3 when we entered. A teenage girl is tied down on a bench. Two boys are clipping wooden clothespins all over her body. The poor girl is crying hysterically and begging the boys to stop. Clothespins are already attached to her thighs, her pubic area her belly, her arms, neck and face, anywhere they’re able to pinch together enough skin to get one to stick. They were finishing up as we entered, clamping what must have been nearly a hundred of the damn things to her tits.

It’s obvious from the expressions on the boy’s faces they desperately don’t want to do what they’re doing to the girl. I can’t see the face of the older boy clearly. But there are tears on the cheeks of the younger boy.

Dave leaned over and whispered, “The two boys are fourteen and fifteen. The girl is their sixteen-year-old sister. This is the third movie they’ve made together. Their movies are extremely popular. Our customers love watching family members raping and tormenting each other, especially when they’re doing it against their will.”

The sick bastard actually sounds proud of what he does for a living!!

We didn’t linger there. We left studio three and continued the tour. He showed me where they make hundreds and hundreds of copies of their movies from the master disks. We toured the shipping department. As the tour continued I was surprised to see how many men are wearing slave collars. Most of them work in the back, in shipping or performing some other form of physical labor. From the appearance of the majority of them I have to believe they were only enslaved incidental to the enslavement of their families. I suppose they now live their lives as the equivalent of field slaves while their wives and/or daughters and sons are raped and put to work making pornographic movies.

He showed me a long, narrow room off of the shipping department. There are about thirty cots along either wall with just enough room to walk single file down the aisle between them. There’s even less room between each cot. Over each cot is a small shelf.

Dave explained that this is the slave quarters. There’s another room just like it on the other side of shipping. Many of his workers live in this narrow windowless room when they aren’t working. Men, women, boys, girls, they all live in this long room or the other one on the other side of the shipping department. At the end of the narrow aisle is a bathroom. Six toilets line one wall. There are no stalls or walls, just six toilets sitting out in the open.

A communal shower with a dozen showerheads is on the other end of the bathroom. There’s a double row of sinks across from the toilets. At each sink there’s a small bar of soap and a toothbrush holder containing one well used toothbrush. Dave seemed very amused when he pointed out that the slaves who are forced to live here have to share toothbrushes. He proudly boasted that the money saving idea to have communal toothbrushes had been Casey’s.

As we walked back down the narrow aisle between the cots I noticed each shelf over the occupied cots held just one thing, a single change of clothes. There isn’t a single personal item to be seen. Not one photograph, nothing from their previous lives. I had to fight back the tears. These people would be better off in prison! Or dead.

We stopped several times during the tour so Dave could talk to someone, always someone who isn’t wearing a collar. I recognized a couple of them from my day at Bare as You Dare. I don’t doubt that some of the men who work here, or at least the ones who aren’t wearing collars, fucked me that day, me and my daughter. Now though, they behave as though I don’t exist. They might glance at my exposed tits. But except for that they didn’t acknowledge my existence at all.

The tour took nearly an hour to complete. It ended with me bent over his desk getting fucked while his receptionist stood beside him and read his latest phone messages to him. I discovered it’s slightly less embarrassing having a witness to my rapes when the witness is another slave.

Dave climaxed and stepped back. He ordered his receptionist to suck his cock and balls clean. Then he ordered her to clean me, too. That was embarrassing! But from the way she reacted I got the impression she does this all the time.

When her cleanup duties were done the receptionist was dismissed and returned to her office. Dave sat down and went to work while I stood nearby wondering what to do with myself. That problem was quickly solved. He signed some papers and gave me my first assignment. I was to take the folder he just signed off on to Mr. Preston in room forty-five. I have a rough idea how to get there. And if I get lost I assume I can always ask someone. No one has ordered me not to talk to anyone.

For the first time since we got here this morning I had time to wonder how bad things are for Kenzie. I’ve been concentrating so hard on learning the layout of the building and memorizing the twisting corridors I haven’t had much time to worry about my daughter.