Chapter 13b

Steve watched the slave girl getting fucked and felt the anger burning brightly within his mind. He felt his commitment to the cause growing stronger and better defined. While the rest of the crowd saw a girl dressed in black, he saw Dee and the night she died. This was what he had come to stop.

He wondered what the other slave, the one dressed in black but with her tits out, was saying to the bound slave? She was probably whispering encouragements and comforting words to the poor girl being abused.

There was not much time and still a lot to do.

Steve turned away from the spectacle and moved back to where he and his team had been setting up a St. Andrew's cross. The crowd was growing. As the time for the banquet approached more people were arriving. The larger the crowd, the easier it would be for their plan to succeed. They needed to look busy until it was time to act. If security was alerted too soon it would be easy to sweep them up.

Getting into the Master's Lifestyle Expo had been easy. They had created a phony company that sold slave devices and then asked to be a vendor at the show. They had found a place in San Francisco that would rent similar items that the company was pretended to sell. Using a plain panel truck, fake signs and business cards they had pulled off the infiltration without a problem.

The first crisis of the day had been learning to set up the displays. No one in his four man team had a clue how the heavy St. Andrew's cross or pillory looked much less how they went together. They had fumbled around long enough for the vendor next to them to notice. Their ignorance had been explained away as simply "hired help." The short, fat, and loud man, he called himself Master Lobo, was more than willing to flaunt his superior knowledge and show them how it was assembled. The little shit had suggested that using slaves for this work would be cheaper and better.

Steve was glad all of that crap would be left right where it was. It had been rented with a stolen credit card and he did not care if those things ever were returned. He was just glad he did not have to take them apart.

Steve had been put in charge of this operation. He provided the information regarding where the Fresno slave auction was and when it was held. He had not been told that they were going to use a bomb. His loyalty and commitment to the group had been questioned when they learned the operation he had planned had killed his mother. They had expected resentment. Instead they read relief and smug satisfaction on his face and in his words. Steve had clearly despised his mother and had never expected to see her again anyway. They considered the Fresno action to be a great success and he had become a rising star.

Yet he knew he would only be able to go so far within the group. It was called Boudicca's Children, or simply the BC. It was an offshoot of a militant feminist group that had begun in Berkeley decades before. When that group proved to be too rhetoric based for some of the members, they created their own direct action cell named for the warrior priestess that had fought the Romans in Britain. They were small, well financed and dedicated to the cause of ending, or even reversing, the institution of slavery.

To be a ranking member meant you had to be 'identifying as some gender other than male.' Yet there was enough of a need for strong backs, covert action and special knowledge that they did recruit a small number of men. Secretly, the men referred to the leadership group of the BC as the Bitch Cunts, but never out loud.

That did not mean the men were not dedicated to the cause. Every one of the men had lost someone special to the slave law.

Steve had left Fresno for Sacramento to go to college and get away from his crazy mother. He had left with his high school sweetheart Debra, Steve called her Dee. They had been so excited to get out of Fresno. They both had plans to be teachers. It would not make them rich but there were jobs available and they could, 'make a difference.'

The second semester they were at Sac State, Steve had an altercation with some frat boys. A beer can on a car hood led to words that quickly led to fists. It became the frats mission that semester to ruin Steve's life. The frat had some local cops in their pockets. One night, when Steve was working, Dee was arrested on a trumped up charge of being intoxicated in public and for possessing an open container of alcohol. She was rushed through enslaved that night and sold to the frat. Hours later, when Steve heard about what had happened, he rushed over to the frat house to find Dee. They let him in the door and gladly showed him where she was. He was never sure if she had died from the beatings, the rapes, or if she had drowned in the tub she was in that had been filled with beer and piss. The police do not investigate the death of a slave.

Two things came of that night. In his rage, Steve tried to burn the frat house down and was arrested. The second was that the frat house made tee shirts with the capitol letter D on them.

Kicked out of school and with a criminal record, Steve lived on the streets for over a year. Out of the blue, someone offered him a job driving delivery trucks. He found out later it had really been a job interview of a different sort. The owner of the delivery service was a founding member of the Bitch Cunts. The BC had been following Steve and his story. They used his anger at the slave law and slave owners to recruit him to the cause.

As Steve moved towards the hallway, a member of the event security team passed him moving towards the banquet hall. Security at the event had been heavier than expected. That was probably due to the bombing in Fresno. He had seen the bomb sniffing dogs outside and around the delivery trucks. It had been his suggestion that this action use something other than explosives.

He saw the other three members of his team converging on the entrance to the exhibit hall leading to the slave market. All were carrying backpacks or shoulder bags. They must have left the fake merchandise booth unmanned. They were going to have to act quickly before someone noticed.

Carl and the girls had retreated via the escalator to the upper floor of the convention center near where they had entered. All three needed to regroup. After they had taken Willow down from the bondage frame, Page had reinserted the butt plug and replaced the crotch strap. Carl then replaced the mittens on Page's hands and the three had moved away from the merchandise area and away from the gathered crowd. No one had spoken.

After finding a quiet spot out of the flow of guests, Carl pointed to the floor indicating that the girls should kneel. Once in place, Carl dropped the reins, turned around and took a few steps away from them. He was near the edge of the balcony and could look down on the main atrium. The crowd was getting thicker the closer to the banquet it became. He was still amazed at the many different and exotic outfits and activities he could see.

Carl was deeply shaken by what had happened. He was ashamed at what he had done to Willow. He was angry with Page for pushing it. He was embarrassed that he had done that in public. But most of all he felt frightened that he had allowed himself to be swept up in the emotion and moment and had not maintained his cool detachment. That detachment was how someone undercover survived the job. He had given in to lust and excitement and had allowed himself to act out of emotion. It was the most unprofessional thing he had ever done. He began to think it was a good thing he had retired. If he had so little control over himself, then it would not have been long before he would have been killed or caused someone else to be killed.

But as a professional, he knew that they were not done until everyone was back at home safe. He still needed to be able to get away from the Expo with the lie intact. Now was not the time to drop their guard and have a heart to heart talk. Carl turned around and said, "I think it is time we were going."

Page gave a small nod of the head. Willow did not move.

He took the reins in his hands and pulled them to their feet. He then remembered that he needed to call the limo driver to pull the car to the door. After placing the call, he looked at his phone to consider if there was anything else that he had forgotten. It was while he had his phone in his and the girls standing next to him that the screams began.

Hearing screams at the Master's Lifestyle Expo was to be expected. What was not expected was that some of those screams had definite male characteristics. Carl, Page and Willow had an excellent vantage point from the second floor balcony to watch as a tidal bore of people poured into the atrium, mixing with and then pushing along those that were already crowding the room. Those flooding into the room were covering their faces and retching.

Smoke began to billow down the hallway where the panicked crowd had emerged. Carl's brain, from years of law enforcement training, quickly processed what he was seeing and smelling. It was tear gas, mixed with something else like CS gas. More and more of the crowd began pushing their way out the first floor exits.

"Time to go," he said to the girls and took a step towards the parking level exits where the car was waiting. But before he could take another step, Page said through the radio in his ear, "Look!"

Carl looked down onto the crowd once again. Skirting along the edge of the panicked crowd Carl could see four men, dressed in the red shirts of the event staff. They were running too, but not the same way as the rest of the crowd. They were headed towards the exits further down the hallway, the exits that lead to the service areas. Each man seemed to be pushing slaves along with them. But most interesting of all was that each man was wearing a gas mask.

Willow could not see their faces because of the gas masks, but she was sure that one of them, the last one in line, was Steve.

The search dogs had been looking for explosives, not tear gas and a vomiting agent called CS.

Steve had wondered what would happen if they were caught. Would they be charged with kidnapping? How can you kidnap property? Maybe they would be charged with grand theft slave? How ironic it was that he might go to jail for taking something that another person could kill without consequences. This sure was a fucked up world.

After setting off the gas bombs, Steve just grabbed the three nearest slaves he could. Two were wearing metal collars and high heels and nothing else. The third slave was wearing a black leather hood, black boots and had her hands chained to the back of the hood. It did not matter, they needed to be rescued and he was there to do it.

Two of the men with him were there to find and rescue specific slaves that they knew. One was rescuing his sister and her best friend. He had been able to locate them in the slave market area. Another was looking for his girlfriend but had not seen her. The deal was that when the gas started, they had to take who was close and run. Anything else would mean capture.

Whether they had the right girls or not, it was time to run. Steve was the last in line and could see that the other three conspirators had eight slaves with them. They ran along the edge of the wall and towards the back service doors of the convention center.

As soon as they burst through the doors, Steve saw the panel van that was waiting for them just as planned. Security was not concerned with an empty van with its cargo door open. What threat could that be?

Within thirty seconds four conspirators and eleven liberated slaves were hidden in the back of the truck. Four minutes later, the van was on the highway going sixty miles an hour in the opposite direction of the fire trucks and police cars.

Almost before the van doors closed, Carl and the girls were seated in their limo. While the white van headed north and then west, the limo headed east and then south.

Page had tried to ask Carl a question but was immediately cut off when he quietly barked, "Later!" The rest of the ride to the office where they had changed was silent. Carl had removed the mittens the girls wore but had done so without comment. When the limo pulled away, Carl told them to grab anything they needed and get into the Range Rover without changing.

During the ride back to Rose House, Page took off the horse muzzle and hood. She then did the same for Willow. The only other change that took place on the road back was that Page removed the twelve needles that were under the skin of her breasts. There was one rivulet of blood that ran down between her breasts but that was all.

When they arrived Carl told the girls to get changed and cleaned up and that he would empty the car. When Page and Willow emerged twenty minutes later, Carl had taken off his suit coat and tie and was sipping a glass of what looked like bourbon. He sat in the leather chair that Page often used when training Willow. Both girls only wore collars, cuffs and shoes. Page's blonde hair had been brushed and was down around her shoulders. Willow's black hair was just long enough not to be standing straight up.

Page and Willow moved to the front of the chair and knelt down. Both had their eyes down and their hands behind their back. For the next few minutes there seemed to be a standoff between the three of them. No one said anything. Carl would take a sip every once in a while, but other than that, no one moved or spoke.

Willow's voice broke the silence and tension, "Ma'am, may we use the kneeling mat?"

"Slave, I am your trainer. I am not the master here. Address your request to the proper person."

"Master Carl, may we please use the kneeling mat? I ... I have some things that I need to say and some things I need to understand. Please?"

Carl remained silent but nodded his head. After a few moments of activity the familiar red mat was in place. They positioned it where both Page and Willow were on it. The slaves returned to the waiting position.

Again, it was Willow that broke the silence. "Master Carl, my trainer has made it clear that a slave on the kneeling mat must speak the complete truth, and that it is not a place to deceive or omit information. But you might never ask for what I need to say. May I ask my trainer for guidance please?"

Again, Carl said nothing but again nodded his consent.

"Ma'am, I first must apologize for my loss of focus and comportment. I ... I put us all at risk. I am sorry."

"Slave, are you asking for forgiveness? Mercy? There is more in store for you than you can imagine. Any small mercy I extended to you now would be a drop in the ocean, quickly lost and forgotten."

"Ma'am, I am not asking for forgiveness or mercy. I am trying to explain what happened. While we were there at the drowning girl display, I saw the men working in the next booth. I ... I recognized one of them. I froze. I had forgotten that he could not recognize me in the costume. I was afraid and mortified."

There was a pause for a few moments. Finally, it was Carl that said, "I was undercover working an organized crime case. We had learned that a lot of business was taking place on the morning train into the city. I had been tasked to sit close enough to the suspect to observe and maybe even hear something. I rode that train for weeks just so I could blend into the crowd. The suspect actually sat next to me a few times. On one of those days, my personal tax guy, an outsider that knew I was a cop, came into the train car and sat across the aisle from me! I froze." The tax accountant had said hello and smiled at Carl. Carl followed up with a comment about taxes and then both went back to reading the paper. Is some ways it solidified his cover and a harmless commuter.

Page took a deep breath before saying, "I had forgotten how new you are to being a slave. You have been exposed to very few people and situations, so some of your failure was mine. We both have punishment coming. Yes, that is..."

"Fair?" Carl offered.

"No. Fair is not a word to use with a slave. Fair is never a consideration. To use words like that is confusing and more hurtful than a lash from a whip or a cane stroke. No, I was going to say it was good that we both be accountable for tonight."

"Ma'am, Master Carl, there is more to tell. I saw him twice more. He was watching when..." Willow's voice trailed off.

"When Master Carl fucked you?"

"Yes ma'am. He was looking right into my eyes, and I in his. I had regained my composure by then, but I almost panicked again. I again was glad for the mask.

"I was terrified but I also was excited, you know, aroused. I have found myself getting excited by being out in public. The tailor and the shoe store were great. But tonight was my first fuck was in public, in the ass, and in front of my brother!"

"Brother!" Carl and Page said at the same time.

"Yes master, yes ma'am. It was my brother that I recognized. Again, he had no idea it was me. He was just watching a girl getting fucked. But I knew, and it was perverse and wild and ... I came."

Carl was still processing the comment about it being Willow's first fuck. Page wanted be hug Willow and tell her how proud she was of her, and how relieved Page was. Slavery, especially sexual slavery, is a soul rending existence. Pleasure discovered in the harshness of enslavement was like finding an oasis in a desert. Willow had cum when being fucked in public! Pleasure could keep the mind and spirit from breaking, as long as it was kept free of hope. The image of her friend Carol's broken body came into Page's mind unbidden and unwelcome.

Page looked at Carl and asked, "Sir, were you feeling like you had hurt this slave?"

Carl said, "Yes. I was angry. I was angry that you had used me to hurt her, to humiliate her."

"With all due respect sir, so what? Think about everything you saw there. What you saw tonight was the erotic jolt of wish fulfillment without remorse. That is the function of a slave. You were surrounded by that and it affected you. The result was your wish, your fantasy, was realized. It was as it should have been.

"Master Carl, there is something that you need to know. Lord Blackmon gave me very clear instructions about tonight regarding you. He wanted to be sure that you were not left unfulfilled. I was to see to your needs. I was glad that it came at a great moment for both of you. It was a fantasy fulfilled, was it not?"

"Yes," Carl said softly.

"Did you enjoy that moment?"

"Yes."

"We want you to do more of that. You are in a place with no limits, no boundaries. Also, we know a few things you might never have thought of. We trust you to keep us safe but we want you to indulge yourself. When you do, we know we are completing our purpose. We know that we are of value to our master and thus safe from harm."