Chapter 11
When the cage door closed and Mr. Smith walked off without even saying 'good night', Alex cried for a while. Then, mentally shaking herself, she got a grip and forced herself to stop feeling sorry for herself. She wondered if those other girls had cried in here when they were left alone or after they had displeased Mr. Smith. Silly, of course they had. But she wouldn't cry over such a silly thing. She would just have to try harder to please Mr. Smith. She wasn't sure what had gone wrong tonight, but she would try hard not to do it again. Whatever it was.
She had some thinking to do, anyway. Those boxes in the storage room, the ones with the documents. She hadn't thought anything of them at first, but the names on the files had haunted her and drawn her to look through them with more care. Each file had contracts, releases and other legal papers as well as notarized Powers of Attorney. She knew what those were. Cathy, her best friend in high school, and she had worked in the office of the town clerk. Actually, her friend had the job and got paid. Alex just shared it with her and took her place for a couple of months when Cathy had to leave town for a while to have her baby. That way she had the job when she came back. Alex was glad to help.
But these were the same kinds of documents they handled there at the courthouse. Estate stuff. Guardianship and Wills. As boring as most people think these things are, she had been fascinated by them, especially after a big local scandal involving a race horse had been in all the papers. She had asked a thousand questions to anyone who would stop by her desk to flirt with her. At first the lawyers and judges had been amused and given her short answers, trying to be cute. But she kept asking and the questions got harder and soon, one or two of the adults had taken her seriously. They had spent time with her and she had learned and asked even more questions. If she hadn't gotten married right after high school, she had wanted to go on to the community college and then Law School. But Harold had changed all that.
Still, she knew what a lot of those papers were. And in the back of each file were the personal ID cards. Driver's license, Social Security Cards. Some had passports and credit cards. Thinking about it, she wondered why Mr. Smith had them. Didn't the girls need them anymore? She couldn't think of any reason she would give up her driver's license. It puzzled her for a long time and she fell asleep, her first night as a pet.
She awoke in a cold sweat. She knew why. If she hadn't been shackled to the floor she probably would have bolted out the door of the club and never looked back. But the list of names on the bottom of the shelf stared at her. The same names as the ones in the files. They were daring her to stay. Challenging her to join them. To please him, their Master. It was what she wanted.
As the long night passed into morning, she found she had resolved to play the game to the end. She knew it could be dangerous. She would probably end up like them, the other names on the list. But with her marriage over she had nothing to look forward to from Harold. And in the last few weeks, she had seen too much to ever just go back to the farm.
She had seen a different side of herself now. She liked how she felt when she was with Mr. Smith. She knew she needed it, too, a strong hand that let her be free, free to be herself. She knew she needed to feel like she had that night again, to be so overcome with emotions that even a brutal whipping on her pussy by a maniac would send her into the abyss. Most of all, Alex knew she needed to be owned by him. To be allowed to call him 'Master.'
It wasn't just for those selfish reasons, though. Alex knew that Mr. Smith was probably going to mess with her head, and selfish reasons weren't going to be strong enough to keep her on course. But they could. She could do it for them. For the names on the bottom of the shelf. And for Petunia.
Alvin came and freed her in the morning. His eyes searched hers as he worked on her wrists, rubbing them and then her arms to stimulate the circulation. She almost said something to him, but his brusque manner made her hesitate. She liked him but she didn't know which side he was on. He had been nice to her, but so had Mr. Smith, for the most part.
Alex started to stand up, but he shook his head and got her to her hands and knees. He fastened and locked on her collar and leash and led her to the breakfast area. Her bowl was ready for her. On the floor.
She looked up at him and gave him a wry grin. For an instant, he grinned back, then went deadpan. She started to reach for the bowl to pick it up but he slapped her hands away and handcuffed them behind her back. So that's the way it was going to be. Well, shy hadn't had a pet pig named Petunia to have pig eating contests with for nothing!
She ate her breakfast with gusto, her face deep in the bowl. She belched loudly as she sat back up, her face a schmeer of eggs, jam and mush. She tried licking as much as she could, but her tongue wasn't designed for that.
"Alex! What do you think you are doing?" Mr. Smith had come in while she was finishing her breakfast.
"Belching, Sir. And trying to clean my face, Sir."
"Don't get smart with me. I don't want to hear anything like that from you again."
She didn't see Alvin pleading silently to keep quiet. She probably would have ignored him even if she had.
"Then don't feed me like a pig, Sir. Pigs belch because they eat from a trough. Have you ever heard a hog let one loose, Sir? You can--"
"ENOUGH, bitch! You are NOT an animal and you aren't on your precious farm anymore. I expect you to act appropriately!" Mr. Smith was out of his chair and towering over her, his fists and teeth clenched. Alex had no time to react, he moved so fast. Thundering over her, he turned without touching her, tossed his napkin, still tucked in his belt, on the table and stormed out, grabbing his coffee and a piece of toast as he left.
Alex grinned stupidly over at Alvin, who stood there petrified, trembling at Mr. D's anger, his large eyes two white circles in a mask of black fear. If Mr. D had struck at her just now, Alvin would not have stopped him. He couldn't have. Not yet.
He had seen him in just such a rage, about 18 months ago. The girl had made a mistake, spilled his coffee or something, then made a small joke. Mr. D had flipped out. Alvin had left as Mr. D was beating her with his fists. He couldn't stop him and he couldn't watch. The girl had been helpless to defend herself, cuffed, just like Miss Alex. He had never seen the girl again and Mr. D had never mentioned it.
Alex, watching as Alvin laboriously got his breathing back under control, slowly grasped that she might have made a serious misjudgment in sassing back to Mr. Smith right then. She would have to watch herself. She was making too many mistakes because she didn't know the playing field or the players. That would have to change.
Without a word Alvin spread a damp towel on the floor for her to wipe her face on. She did so with relish, refusing to be humiliated by the beastly act. It wasn't until he had had her crawl into the bathroom on just her knees that he had said anything to her. She wasn't sure she had heard correctly, but if she had, she was lucky Mr. Smith had stormed out instead of beating her up.
He had made her pee and poop in front of him. With her arms bound behind her, she couldn't clean herself. The giant lifted her up, gently, and set her down on a bidet. While the toilet flushed and the water was gurgling up cleansing her privates, Alvin had leaned next to her ear, trying to reach the knobs behind her.
"Please be careful, Miss Alex. He beat his last pet to death for sassing him, like he was about to hit you this morning. Watch what you say. To him and to me, too. He's listening and he's watching us," he had whispered quickly. At least, that's what she thought she heard him say. He did seem honestly frightened. So she went along with him, for now.
Alvin had her crawl to the elevator on her knees and took her up to the club level. It was the first time she had been off the apartment level since Mr. Smith had taken her shopping. That seemed like such a long time ago.
Just before the doors opened onto the club level, Alvin let her stand up and uncuffed her. Stepping off the elevator, Mr. Smith was waiting for them. He was holding her latex panties and bra. He handed them to her.
She still felt a little cocky, so she grinned widely at him as she fitted the thick crotch piece in place, making sure he saw her contented sigh as the knob settled against her asshole. She also fitted her nipples into the iris clamps. Then she presented herself for his inspection.
Mr. Smith just rolled his eyes at her childish enthusiasm, but he did give a grudging smile. At even that small sign of recognition, Alex giggled and hugged him like a little schoolgirl. She felt his hands slowly go around her and give her an answering hug, if grudgingly. She let loose of his firm body reluctantly as those wonderful hands pried her off of him. On impulse, she took one of his hands and kissed his palm as she sank to her knees obediently by his feet.
Her head bowed, she couldn't see Damon's face. Or the total disbelief on Alvin's. Damon stared down at her for a long moment, then at his palm. He fought to control his breath. None of his pets had adored him like this one, yet he couldn't understand her. She was out of control, everything was out of order. He needed to get back into control. This silly little farm girl never let him get his balance. He tried to convince himself that what she had just done meant nothing. Nothing. Everything. Fuck!
He had to get away, get back in control. Of her and of himself. He couldn't understand why he was upset with her. All she had done was find a bug that had gone undetected for years and innocently, ignorant of what it was, told him about it. All she had done was everything he had asked of her. And then some. All she had done was adore him.
He had yelled at her. He had almost struck her in a rage this morning. Yes, of course that's what pets were for, but she wasn't ready yet. He hadn't taken everything from her yet. Besides, the plan wasn't in place. Not yet, but she was already so much more totally devoted to him than any of the others had been. He needed to get away from this bewitching vixen, catch his breath.
Patting her on the head, then leaning down and kissing her softly on the cheek he told her he would see her in a couple of days. Alvin would work with her, but she was to stay in her old apartment. He would call her when to come back.
She beamed up at him and wished him a successful trip and a speedy return. She rubbed her cheek suggestively over his crotch, letting him know wordlessly that she would be waiting for him when he returned. He broke out in a sweat thinking of her soft mouth -- Stop!
She stayed where she was as Damon and Alvin walked to the front of the club. He gave his club manager his list of strange instructions, but didn't tell him why. Let the SOB figure it out on his own. He had no doubt that if there had been one bug planted, there were others. It would also be a good test of Alvin's loyalty. The bug from downstairs had been in his office. If he had been doing it, he would have arranged a backup or a replacement by now. He thought about the painful effect the transmitting devices had on Alex. He was almost sorry for her. Almost.
The limo was waiting to take him to the airport. He had been called to give an account of The Dungeon's P&L statement to the Board. His expenditures had been a bit higher than normal this last quarter. So had his profits, but to this Board that was never a justification to spend more than necessary. He tried not to think about Harold's and Marcy's accumulating expenses that were already fucking up this quarter. If that insurance money didn't come in within the next 90 days or so, he was going to have to hide those costs in the operating expenses, and he hated to do that. It screwed up the averages.
He wasn't going to tell the Board about the insurance scam until the money was in his hands. It was safer that way. Better for them to be surprised and pleased when it came in, than disappointed and pissed if it didn't. Not that it wasn't a sure thing. He didn't deal with anything else.
Still, he wasn't worried about the meeting tomorrow. He ran the top club in the syndicate and he had for years. He had earned a little latitude. He wondered how he was going to get them to spring for the added security measures he was going to install. He was now convinced they were necessary, but how could he explain his sudden about-face without admitting the security of his own club had been breached. Then again, the bastards probably already knew.
He'd suspected for a long time that Alvin was reporting to them. He hadn't had proof that anyone was bugging him until last night, and it was actually a sign of their respect for him that they spied on him. Either that, or it was a competing club wanting to steal his secrets. Thank God his telephone line was scrambled and secure. Regardless, they'd let him squirm a little, but he'd get the money for the security measures.
"Shit, Miss Alex, what's wrong with you?" boomed the deep voice above her.
They had been walking around the bar for three hours, just like Mr. D had told him to. Taking a break they were sitting silent at the bar, sipping Cokes, when he had said something and she had collapsed, flopping around on the floor. Alvin was now crouched over the thrashing figure, concern in his voice and his posture. He just needed to know which way to strike out and he would try to save her from her torment.
"Quiet. Please," she whispered.
"No, it's OK, here. He can't hear us here," he said in normal voice.
Alex continued to thrash around and finally managed to put her finger over his lips. He seemed to understand she needed silence and slowly she was able to get herself under control. She crawled away from the bar area until she was a good twenty feet away. This little bugger was even stronger than the one downstairs.
Alex stripped off the latex panties to Alvin's amused gaze. She stuck her tongue out at him. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen it all before. He'd just have to deal with it. The pain on her inflamed and unfulfilled cunt was just too intense to keep them on. She would leave the bra on and grit her teeth while they found this new transmitter.
Walking back to Alvin bare-assed she giggled at his expression. Maybe she ought to let him wear the panties and see how he reacted when she shouted in the transmitter. That made her giggle louder and she detected the first stinging pains on her breasts that indicated the chip was active.
Using the same technique she had worked out yesterday in the storeroom, she sang a nonsensical nursery rhyme as she quartered the bar, triangulating the source of the stimulus. What she did was mark the floor with a match torn from a matchbook, laid down by her toes where she first felt the tingles. Then she would move away and try from a different approach. It was simple, once you figured it out.
Alvin sat silent, watching her with interest. He didn't know what she was doing, but he recognized a triangulation search pattern when he saw one. After watching her mark three spots, he had already figured out where the point of focus was. Miss Alex marked two more spots on the floor. She was either new at this or very careful.
Alex reached for a glass from the bar and carefully placed it in the estimated center of the five points she had marked. Her chest throbbed with pain, but she fought through it. She looked puzzled. There was nothing there where something was supposed to be. Underneath the bar was just empty space, not even the big bucket of ice was there now. She ran her hand over the bottom of the solid wood bar. It was smooth and natural. She looked at Alvin.
An enlightened smile flashed across her face as she continued to look up, past his face, and up the hanging shelf above the bar. There were recessed lamps in the bottom, one directly above the glass. With as squeal of triumph she hopped up on the bar and pulled the fixture loose from the hole it was set into. Grinning proudly, she plucked the tiny transmitter from where it was taped and laid it on the bar. She replaced the fixture and looked expectantly at Alvin.
She didn't know what to expect from him, but horror wouldn't have been high on the list. He just sat there, staring at the little silicon chip. Thankfully, he was silent.
Making a snap decision, Alvin reached past her and grabbed one of the bar aprons. He quickly bundled it around Miss Alex, covering her nakedness, though she was still showing a lot of leg and ass. He headed for the door of the club and hustled her outside and down to a small neighborhood diner a block further down past the club. She hadn't even known it was there.
Alvin was silent, thinking furiously. He was trying to recall all of the conversations he had had within fifty feet of that light fixture. He had swept the place himself several times and had never found that bug. It was one of the few places inside the club he had thought Mr. D couldn't hear. The bug wasn't the latest technology, so he had to assume that it had been there for a long time. It would be too easy to make the mistake that someone had bought it cheap and recently. The people he dealt with didn't buy cheap. Neither did he.
Then, the more he thought about it, the more he guessed Mr. D didn't know about the bug, either. Maybe, just maybe this would save his neck. If Mr. D thought there was a rogue third party or even the Feds, and he could convince him by showing him everything, just maybe he could get out of this alive. He eyed the girl across the table from him. He had a sudden hunch.
"Miss Alex, I'm sorry about grabbing you so hard."
"That's OK. What's for lunch? I'm starved!"
She grinned up at him. Being an interracial couple, and her practically naked besides, they were causing quite a stir in the little diner. She didn't think he even noticed the stares of the blue collar men surrounding them.
"Huh? Oh." He turned to the man behind the counter. "Hey, Louie! Two specials and two strawberry shakes," he called out.
"Comin' up," came the answer.
Being friends with Louie was apparently the key here, as the lunch crowd grinned knowingly and turned back to their sports pages and lotto picks, leaving the new pair alone.
"Miss Alex," he started.
"What's the special, Alvin?"
He glared at her. "How the Hell should I know? I've never been in here before."
"Well, then how do you know Louie?"
Rolling his eyes, he pointed at a spot above his heart and waggled his finger back and forth. Looking as the man behind the counter and squinting, she could just make out his nametag, which proclaimed him "Louie."
"Oh."
"May I talk now?"
"Are you going to ask me what happened yesterday and last night with Mr. Smith and me?"
"Should I? I'd hate to pry into anything too personal."
"Yes." She ignored his sarcasm.
He growled at her in exasperation and she giggled.
"Miss Alex, what happened last night? Please tell me the whole story. I promise not to interrupt." He gave her a sweeping gesture, as if she now held the floor. He ended by cupping his chin in his hand, the picture of rapt attention.
She stuck her tongue out at him for being a spoilsport. She was having fun teasing him. Then, in a surprisingly concise and serious manner, she summarized the events of the previous day, only leaving out the part about the names and the documents in the box. He listened intently, keeping his promise not to break in with questions. When she was done, he just stared at her.
She realized they were both in the same predicament. Could they trust the other? She hadn't really told him anything he wouldn't have figured out eventually. But she didn't know which side he was on either. He was probably wondering what the Hell she was up to, as well. Even she wasn't sure of that herself half the time.
They were still eyeing each other speculatively when Louie dropped the huge plates with the specials in front of them. It turned out the special was the most expensive item on the menu and at full price. It was a private joke among the regulars. Regardless of the practical joke, the food was not laughing matter. The thick steaks were tender and cooked to perfection. The piles of hash browns and heaps of tender buttered corn were also tasty. They attacked the plates of food with gusto. He finished off what she couldn't eat, spearing her meat from her plate without asking. In retaliation, she stole the rest of his double-thick shake just as he was reaching for it. He paid, and they left.
Now knowing what to look for, they searched the rest of the club level. They found two more bugs planted in the public areas, both near the satellite bars. Whoever had placed them wanted to hear what was said at the bars. It didn't make sense.
On a whim, Alvin took her into a large storage area in the back. Two more bugs were found in some fixtures they hadn't had a chance to throw out. But that table and lamp set had been the one where Mr. D always sat and watched the crowd. His private table. Alvin didn't say what it was but she saw the shiny brass "Private" sign fastened to the edge of the table and suspected that was what it had been.
Mr. D's new table was clean, at least as far as this type of transmitter was concerned. Undaunted, the pair meticulously disassembled and inspected the entire area. It was Alex' tiny fingers that discovered a tiny ultra-modern chip in the leg of the table. She showed it to Alvin, who just grinned. Now he knew who was bugging the place. The Feds may contract out for the research on this stuff, but they would never throw away that kind of money on an operation like this. Only real money could afford gadgets this good.
She was surprised when he made her put it back exactly where she had found it, but she did it. They reassembled the table and went to finish searching in the office area. As they walked down the hallway, Alvin leaned over and whispered in her ear, "If you find one in here, can you pretend there isn't one? If the answer is 'yes', trip on the carpet going in the room."
Alex squealed as she tripped going into Mr. Smith's office. Alvin barked at her to pick up her sorry ass and get to work. She quartered the office, mentally cursing him every time her tits throbbed. She had found three. One in his desk lamp, one near the bar and one in the chair Lewis had sat in the night Mr. Smith injected him. Whoever was listening had heard Mr. Smith threaten Lewis, too.
Alex used a series of obnoxious delays and gestures to let Alvin
know where the bugs were. They got pretty good at 'yes' and 'no' by
rolling their eyes. He was smiling at her when they were finished, but
they both knew it was now a deadly serious game they were playing.