Chapter 10
It took Alex a short time to find the vacuum sweeper and the feather duster. She figured she'd get that out of the way first, then search for the sensors, then do her hair. It seemed a simple enough plan.
By her third shattering orgasm, Alex was having severe doubts as to the simplicity of her plan. Sure, she had found the utility closet but after that, it was a blur. As soon as she started sweeping, the rubbery suit had started to vibrate and shock her. Tiny little shocks that swept though her and numbed her reasoning powers. Soon it was all she could do to drag the machine around. After her third climax left her gasping on the floor, it dawned on her. Mr. Smith had put one of the sensors in the handle of the vacuum sweeper.
Armed with this theory, she rushed to the kitchen to find something to take apart the handle. She found the junk drawer and extracted a 6-in-one tool. Every kitchen should have one! She wasn't daunted by the task of taking the appliance apart. If she could fix a tractor, she could disassemble a puny sweeper.
She lowered the handle of the sweeper so that it lay flat on the floor. Then, lying on the floor herself and extending her lower body away from the handle she pulled it toward her. She found she could reach the screws without activating the panties, although her boobies were getting a workout. But she could live with it.
Carefully extracting the plastic switch from the handle, she saw a small transistor taped to the switch. She assumed it was feeding off the power cord and that way it could be so small, yet so powerful. She loosened the tape and experimentally moved the tiny chip towards her waist. At about three feet the electrodes and vibrators in the panties kicked in. Oh, well. So much for needing a power cord.
Because she was expecting it this time, the shock and vibrations were less effective. Make no mistake, they were still a thrill, but now she knew what to look for and what the range of that little sucker was. Now it was a game and she was back in control. Mr. Smith would be so proud of her.
Methodically Alex swept the living quarters and the other rooms on that floor, just like Mr. Smith has asked. Every inch of it. She found 25 of the little transmitters, though one of them had been really tricky. Satisfied she had them all, she was positive Mr. Smith would be very pleased with her.
She finished vacuuming and dusting the apartment. Then she showered and braided her hair like he liked. It was hard, as she wasn't used to doing it that way but after a couple of tries, the thick braid lay perfectly down the nape of her neck.
As she knelt in the dining room awaiting his return, Alex had time to reflect on what she had seen today. In one of the rooms next to Mr. Smith's, the one on the other side from the room she had been using the last two weeks, she had found her new clothes carefully folded or hung. Because of that, she paid particular attention to room.
The first thing she noticed was that it was small, being more the size of a large closet. Or a cage. She tried to push that thought from her mind, but it was there, and kept coming back, nagging her. It felt like a cage.
The door opened into Mr. Smith's room. There was no knob on the inside of the door and the lock was on the outside. Fortunately Alex had seen that just before the door shut behind her and she was able to jam the tool she was carrying into the crack and stop it. She briefly considered hiding the tool in the small room for later, just in case, but quickly decided against it. It might make things worse, rather than better if Mr. Smith found it. And he could be watching her even now. She hadn't seen any cameras, but she really didn't know what to look for, either.
There were two shelves on which were folded her new panties and bras and the hosiery. A short pole held the dress, the blouses and the tiny skirt hanging neatly on plastic hangers. There were three pairs of shoes on the floor. Two were her new spike heels that made her legs look so sexy. The third was a new pair of running shoes in her size that he must have gotten later.
Most of the rest of the room was taken up by the bed. More correctly, it was a sleeping pad. A thin, cloth covered mat just longer than she was tall and flat on the floor. It was only about three feet wide. At each corner was a shackle set into the floor, two for her wrists, two for her ankles. She would have very little movement when she was locked in them, but, trying it out, it didn't seem that uncomfortable. She would have to get used to sleeping on her back.
What caused her to reflect as she knelt waiting for Mr. Smith to come home was what she had seen while laying down. From the corner of her eye, she saw something that seemed out of place. Unless you were lying on the mat on your back and twisted your head back and up, you wouldn't see it. Certainly no one standing or kneeling would see it.
Alex scooted over and looked at the bottom of the lowest shelf, about nine inches off the floor. There were a list of names and dates. All women's names. Gouged with fingernails in the soft pinewood of the shelf. The oldest were dark, tinged with dirt and dust, darkened by the oils left by fingers as they traced over the impressions in the wood. As Alex' fingers were tracing them. It was automatic. She touched each name lightly, trying to bond with the ones who had stayed here before her. Alex had no doubt she would be staying here.
The dates were in rough columns and there were at most two dates by each name. Two names only had one date in the first column. The first column was titled "owned." The second was headed by the cryptic "1st dan." The last date entered had been over a year and a half ago.
Alex had lain there reading the names, memorizing them. The ones with only one date tantalized her. The first was almost eight years ago. The last one with a single date was the last one on the list. She wondered what had happed to those two women.
It finally occurred to her as she waited for Mr. Smith that the girls who had come before had felt the need to hide the list. Why did they need to hide their names? From whom? She was no closer to an answer when he came home. A shiver ran up her spine. Home. This felt like home now.
Alex looked up at him smiling. He seemed surprised to see her kneeling there, calm and clean, hair perfect, the apartment spotless. No, not surprised. Disappointed. Confused. Even a bit flustered.
He was even more flabbergasted to see, carefully lined up at his place at the table, a neat row of tiny transistors stuck to a piece of tape laying face upwards. Unbelievable.
"Well, Alex. I see you have had an interesting day. Your hair looks lovely."
"Thank you, Sir. Uh, it was fun, Sir. I enjoyed it a lot, Sir."
You weren't supposed to fucking enjoy it, you stupid bitch. You were supposed to be a quivering mass of throbbing cunt by now. "Really? So. How many of the sensors did you find?"
"Twenty-five, Sir. They're all there on the table. Sir."
Damon froze. It couldn't be.
"How many?" he asked carefully.
"Twenty-five, Sir."
"Please count them again, Alex."
"Yes, Sir. But, Sir?"
"Yes?"
"I, uh, it would be really helpful if you didn't talk while I was counting. If you could, Sir? Please?"
"Just go count them, Alex. Now!" He didn't know if she was being insolent or what, but he was getting pissed.
"Yes, Sir." She got up off her knees and move cautiously to the table. She was carefully moving her finger over one after another, silently counting. When she was done, she stood up to move away from the table.
Damon had walked up beside her. "Well, how many?"
A look of terror crossed over the girl's face as she heard his voice and she sank to the plush carpet and started flopping around. Pain was etched across her face.
"Sshhh, Sir. Please," she whispered to him as he kneeled over her, alarm showing on his face.
Not liking to be commanded by a Sub to be quiet, he at least had the sense to be silent. Alex rolled over on her stomach and slithered in visible agony away from the table. When she was about fifteen feet away, she quit shaking and relaxed, relief written in her eyes.
"Twenty-five, Sir. I counted them. Was that all of them, Sir? Are you going to punish me?" She sounded hopeful. He wasn't sure if she was hoping for a punishment or not, but right now that wasn't his main concern.
Right now he was wondering where the Hell the extra transmitter had come from.
Turning away from Alex he moved to the table. He counted them himself. Twenty-five. Shit! He looked at them again. They were so damn small. Wait! That one. There was a tiny red band on it, so thin he almost missed it. He picked it off the tape and went back over to the girl.
"This one, Alex, where did you find this one?"
As he neared the girl, her eyes widened, then slammed shut. Still holding the transmitter, he knelt down beside her. Alex screamed and fainted, but the shaking of her body continued, the electrodes buried in the latex panties and bra still firing and stimulating her insensate tissues.
Kicking himself, Damon tossed the transistor back on the table. Lifting up the unconscious girl he took to the room she had been using for the last few weeks. The one with a bed. He had no doubt she had found her new room. Two of the transmitters had been in there so he knew she had had a chance to look at it well. He was a little surprised she hadn't been trapped inside. Maybe the door wasn't swinging shut fast enough. He'd have to check.
He got a damp cloth from the bathroom and stroked it over her forehead. She had been watching him for several moments before he saw her eyes were open.
She smiled up at him. "That feels nice, Sir. Thank you."
He gazed down at the calm girl. He had a feeling he may have misjudged her. But that was for later. Right now he had to find out where the extra transmitter had come from.
"Alex, I am very proud of you. You found all the sensors I had hidden."
She was beaming up at him. "Thank you, Sir. That last one, that was a mean trick you played on me, Sir."
"Which one was that, Alex?"
"You know, the one that only transmits when you talk, Sir."
"Oh," he said easily. His blood, however, ran cold. A voice-activated burst transmitter. Almost impossible to detect in an electronic sweep. He was starting to sweat.
"Uh, remind me where I hid that one. Was it hard to find?"
"You bet, Sir. Would you like me to show you, Sir? I found it in the storage closet where you keep all the old furniture and stuff. Come on, Sir."
She grabbed his hand and started down the hall to the storage room. It was huge, and there were a few things in here he hoped she hadn't seen or looked through too closely. But if there had been a bug in here, then where else might they have been planted?
Damon grinned as he noticed she gave a very wide berth to the table with the transistors. He grinned wider as he realized the reason for it; she was still wearing the latex suit. Maybe there was still hope.
Alex pulled open the door to the storage room and stood aside for him to enter after flicking on the light switch. She was proud of her afternoon's work, even if she hadn't completely finished. A couple of more days and the room would be completely organized. But already it was spotless.
Damon stopped, stunned. He turned slowly to the girl, his face a mask of anger.
"What have you done, you silly twit?"
"Sir?"
"What were you doing in here?"
"Sir? You... you said to clean and dust all the rooms on this floor, Sir. It was filthy in here. I cleaned it up. I can move the furniture back like it was if you like, Sir. I was just trying to make it neat and organized, Sir. For you, Sir..." The girl's hopes of pleasing him dashed, she was nearly in tears.
He stood, speechless. How could she be so stupid? Nobody cleaned up a storage room. But, on the other hand, she had found the bug. And the boxes with the documents, those were untouched. He was safe. She didn't know anything, and if she did, it wouldn't matter in a couple of weeks. Keep in control. Control, control.
"So Alex," he continued, getting a grip on his panic, "Where did you find the sensor? You've moved everything around and I've forgotten where it was."
Beaming once again, Alex moved over to a tall floor lamp. It had been in his office in the club for several years. Until just recently, in fact, when he went with the more modern halogen lamps. Alex was skillfully disassembling the lamp and pointing, showing him where the transmitter had been. He felt sick.
He took the girl and led her back into the dining area. She held back as she neared the table.
"Please, Sir?"
He looked at her dumbly, then realized she didn't want to get within range. "That one is stronger, isn't it?"
"Oh, yes, Sir, and it hurts when it's real close."
"Hurts?"
"Yes, Sir. Like big shocks, only tiny. But lots of them. It's a lot stronger than the others and it only makes the shocks, not the vibrations. I'm sorry if that's not clear, Sir."
"No, no. I'll take it back and talk to the manufacturer." He pulled her closer. She came reluctantly.
He started to say something and she blanched. He withdrew to a safe distance with her.
"Why didn't you just take those clothes off?" he asked her, exasperated.
"May I, Sir?" she answered, the bra already up over her head, the nipples extracting from the iris clamps with a slight sucking sound. The latex panties followed immediately. She picked them up and folded them neatly.
"Thank you, Sir. I enjoyed it, mostly. Sir." She beamed up at him, like a small puppy awaiting her pat on the head.
He gave her a warm smile he didn't feel like parting with and, with a pat on the ass, told her to fix a light supper for them. He watched as she fucking skipped into the kitchen, her domestic instincts taking over and keeping her fully occupied. Simple cunt. He had other problems to worry about now.
After a light dinner he took her into the small room next to his bedroom. The room where he kept his pets. He put a hand on her shoulder and pushed down slightly. Alex dropped to her knees readily and looked up hopefully. She was moving her hands towards his belt and zipper when he realized what she was expecting to happen. What she was willing and eager to give him. Her last virginity.
It wasn't time. Not yet. And he didn't want her to give it. He wanted to take it. On his terms. Soon.
"Soon, Alex. Soon," he echoed his thoughts. He leaned down and urged her to her back on the sleeping mat. He fastened one wrist, then the other in the shackles by her head. Her ankles followed.
Large tears welled up in her eyes. "Have I displeased you, Sir?"
He looked down at the confused girl. He walked away without answering her question.
He didn't know the answer.