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From: tmquin@ibm.net (The Mighty Quin)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.bondage
Subject: Scattered Scenes 1: The Hitchhikers Guide to Slavery
Date: Sun, 06 Apr 1997 23:03:36 GMT
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************************************************************
                                     STANDARD DISCLAIMER
                                     ===================

The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment and
has been posted only to an appropriate group on the Internet.  If it
is found in any other place this is not the responsibility of the
author.

All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to persons
living or dead is purely coincidental.  The author does not
necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this
story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.

Quin 1997
tmquin@ibm.net
************************************************************

                            Scattered Scenes  by Quin
                            ======================

Number 1: "The Hitchhikers Guide to Slavery
=====================================


I was returning from Vermont cursing Doc and his timing.  I admit I
*had* promised to look after his delivery problems personally.  I can
even vaguely remember taking his retainer but I hadn't agreed to work
Easter week and especially not during my first vacation in three
years.  For God sake my new Snowboard had hardly even been christened.
I told myself that whatever the job was it had better be good . I
wondered just why I had dropped everything to head back.

I could still remember Doc's phone call that morning, his British
accent so polite yet so demanding.  "But Charles old boy I thought we
had a deal.  You know that I wouldn't ask if the assignment didn't
require your special flair.  Besides I believe Kitten is preparing a
special dinner and you *know* how much she looks forward to having you
over...."

Kitten, he knew I couldn't refuse her.  She was my invisible leash,
his guarantee that he could reel me back at any time.  So here I was
cruising the back roads of Worcester County MA on an overcast Easter
evening wondering just why he wanted me over so desperately.

I was so caught up in events that at first I didn't even notice them.
I suppose we've all seen hitchers from time to time, huddled by the
side of the road waving those pathetic little signs.  They look at you
with such hope as you approach that it's almost impossible to drive
away without feeling a complete heel.  I mean, most of the time when
I'm working I'm simply not allowed to stop, but somehow that doesn't
make me feel any less guilty.

I could tell there was something odd about these two straight away, no
sign, no warm clothes, hell they didn't even signal until I was almost
past them.  I glanced in my mirror.  Two young girls alone and in the
middle of nowhere.  In some countries it would be a trap, an obvious
ploy of carjackers or robbers but this was New England and I doubted
it was anything that crude.  Still five years of Advanced Recon
teaches you to take nothing at face value.  I pulled up a good
distance ahead of them and picked my spot so that any potential
ambusher would have to break cover to reach me.

In my mirror I watched as they ran up.  The leading girl looked to be
sixteen or seventeen, well built, perhaps five nine with shoulder
length blonde hair.  She was dressed in a waist length leather jacket
and a knee length plad skirt.  There seemed something familiar about
the outfit but in the dimming light I couldn't make it out.  In any
case I doubted that it was very warm but at least she'd thought to
wear a sensible pair of shoes.  The pack she carried was small, good
for perhaps a couple of days and the lack of a bedroll or obvious tent
confirmed that these were not ardent outdoors men.  Off in the
distance her friend seemed to have prepared a little better.  I got
the impression of a mop of dark hair over a yellow waterproof jacket,
bellow that she wore jeans and a pair of ankle boots.

I swear that I stopped purely for humanitarian reasons, I wouldn't
leave a dog out on a night like that.  Still by the time they reached
me I'd started to see the possibilities in the situation.  I watched
in the mirror as the blonde drew level; I could tell what she was
thinking, youngish guy on his own in a large old car.  She hesitated,
stopped and looked back towards her friend.  I knew this area quite
well, Doc's place was a few miles away, I figured they'd probably been
here a while.  As her friend came up I decided to up the pressure.

I wound the window down.  "You girls are lucky I came along," I said
in a friendly voice, "Not much traffic comes this way after dark and
that storm will be here real soon."  

The blonde looked up.  It was overcast, showers were a certainty
though I think the word *storm* would be pushing things.  While she
thought about it I looked her friend over.  This one had some Latin
genes in her history with those large brown eyes and a curly dark
brown hair.  Her skin however had a pale almost porcelain quality.  I
guessed she was about the same age though the serious expression on
her face made her appear more mature.  The blonde looked at her
friend.  The dark girl glanced at me, suspicion and doubt all over her
face.  That and her clothes convinced me that she was the practical
one of the pair something she confirmed a minute later when she
silently shook her head.

Time for more pressure, "Don't have all day ladies, hell you haven't
even said were you want to go."

"W...worcester," The blonde stammered.

"I'm going to Bolton," I said firmly, "But I could drop you by I-91.
You can get a lift into Worcester easily from there.  Well it would be
easier than gettin' one around here."

The blonde looked beseechingly at her friend.  I watched as the dark
haired girl did the calculation.  Two of them, one of me.  I got the
feeling that if she'd been on her own she'd have waited for something
less risky, but her friend was already cold and if they stayed here
much longer they would get wet.

She nodded proving that perhaps she wasn't that smart after all.  The
blonde headed towards the trunk and waited expectantly.

"No good waiting there sweetheart," I said, " The trunk's full.
You'll have to put your stuff on the back seat."

She hesitated.

"Dump those packs on the seats behind me.  One of you ride up front,
makes it easier to talk."  I could tell that the blonde didn't really
want to talk, but if that was the price of the lift.  She glanced at
her friend.  The brunette nodded again, it seemed a sensible
arrangement; it also separated them.  The blonde struggled out of her
jacket and dumped it on top of the packs, underneath she wore a tight
polo neck sweater in a dark brown color.  Once I saw the complete
outfit I immediately recognized it as the uniform of an exclusive
Catholic boarding school.  The sweater may have been the regulation
style and color but she'd obviously taken some trouble to ensure it
flattered her figure.  I waited expecting the brunette to do the same
but the yellow coat stayed firmly in place.  She waited until the
blonde had got into the seat next to me then opened the back door and
slipped into the seat behind her friend.  I could see she was going to
be difficult.  I pulled away.

"Hi," I said offering my hand to the blonde. "Charlie Parker."

She didn't take the offered hand but instead looked me over.
"Beth," She said at length, "And that's Maria."

No comments, no jazz fans here I thought.  I also noticed that she
didn't give any surnames.  I glanced over at Maria who just nodded
politely, her body tight and weary.  If what I was planning was going
to work I needed to get Maria off her guard a little.  I noticed that
she'd positioned herself close to the door though she'd been sensible
enough to use the seat belt.

I smiled.

"Doesn't say much your friend." I said as we pulled away.

"We had a bad experience a couple of hours ago.  A truck driver....
He said he'd give us a lift but..."

"Oh I see.  I was going to ask how two nice young ladies from Saint
Mary's came to be so far from the beaten track."

They both stiffened, "Saint Mary's?"

Interesting reaction I thought; I decided to probe a little further.

"Yes I recognized the uniform.  You are from there right?"

The tension seemed to mount even more, in the corner of my eye I saw
the glances back and forth.  Something was going on between these two,
something that had led them to a back road miles from Boston.
Whatever it was they didn't want to be identified with it, had hoped
for some anonymity.

"You recognized the uniform...?"  Beth began.  I could tell that she
was about to deny it, claim I'd made a mistake.  Saint Mary's was an
exclusive school, the kind of place that the daughters of congressmen
and diplomats attended.  Such girls have been told all their lives
that they are better that the rest of us, taught to use their wits and
breeding against their enemies.  Time to head her off.

"My wife's an old girl.  The uniforms been updated a little since her
day of course but the Tartan in the skirt is unmistakable."

"Tartan...."  Beth began.  The plad was distinctive, the family Tartan
of one of the schools founders.  Few outside the Ivy League set even
knew the school existed never mind be able to identify the uniform on
sight.  I could feel Beth looking me over. St. Mary's girls go on to
marry into the best families in the country, I didn't seem to fit the
part.  Still it's hard to tell these days, I once stood next to Bruce
Willis in a store in San Fran and I was probably wearing more
expensive clothes than he was.  I could be a rock star, a corporate
robber baron slumming at his New England retreat.  I felt the tension
in the car increase still more, was I *somebody*.

Time to let her off the hook.

"Check the yearbook for '82 when you get back.  Her maiden name was
Jennifer O'Neil.  Pretty redhead, don't think she got any special
distinctions.  She was a day girl there for four years."  

Beth relaxed a little, day girls were usually on scholarships, normal
middle class Boston girls that the school took in to maintain their
Christian piety.  Beth didn't say anything but her body language spoke
volumes.  She'd been afraid.  Afraid that we'd meet at some Alumni
party, afraid that perhaps I moved in the same exclusive circles she
did.  Afraid that their presence here might somehow make it back to
the school or daddy??  Seemed reasonable.

She cleared her throat.  "Your wife was a day girl?"  I caught that
tone in her voice, that upper-class whine.  Five minutes ago she'd
been a little girl freezing her butt off by the side of the road, an
object of some pity even for me.  Now after a few minutes in the warm
all her old instincts were reasserting themselves.  My heart hardened
and the fate I'd decided on for these two was set.

"Yes that's right," I said, "She was on a scholarship.  She says that
it's a great school though she did take some ragging."  I watched her
reaction, feeling the tension bubble burst.  I was no one important,
there was little chance that I would mention their presence here to
anyone they needed to worry about.  Time to change the subject.

"So some trucker gave you a bad time?"

Now her temperature was back up Beth's ego was back with a vengeance.

"He was an awful man, said that he'd take us to Worcester straight
away but once we were out of town he started to change.  He pulled off
the Interstate and started making lewd suggestions.  When we wouldn't
do what he wanted he threw us out."

I took this in for a second.  The place I'd found them was quiet and
there were large numbers of quiet side roads big enough to take a
semi.  Friend trucker probably thought he had a party on his hands and
tried to get some privacy.  I had no doubt that these two had led him
on.  Despite what you see on TV truckers are not usually random
maniacs, most work for big companies and those companies run a virtual
cartel.  No working Joe was likely to risk being blacklisted for two
little tarts like these.  If he'd turned off it was because someone
had given him the idea that he would be rewarded.  Still I kept my
thoughts to myself.

"So what kind of lewd suggestions did this guy make?"

Beth seemed uncomfortable, "Well you know?"

I shrugged.  "I'm afraid I don't," I said, "The only young lady *I*
make lewd comments to these days is my wife.  I take it from your
reactions that these were of a sexual nature?"

Beth nodded indignantly.

"And how old are you girls?"

"Sixteen," Beth said.

I sounded shocked.  "I hope you took the guy's number," I said, "He
sounds a complete sleezeball."

"We did," Beth said proudly, " And when we get back we intend to send
his company a letter."

An anonymous letter I thought, after all they wouldn't want to have to
explain what they were doing hitchhiking to Worcester.

Doc's was now only twenty or thirty miles away.  Soon my relationship
with these two charming ladies would have to get a little unpleasant
but I intended to put that off as long as possible.  I started
chatting asking about school and dropping the names of a few of the
teachers that had been there when I'd lived nearby.  As I'd expected
Maria said nothing, she just sat behind watching.  Beth was a fountain
of information and though I got no closer to the underlying mystery of
what they were doing here or exactly who they were she dropped enough
clues for me to start piecing things together.  Beth's father was a
lawyer, some medium rank partner in a large Boston firm, content to
bide his time and wait for his more senior colleagues to die.  Maria's
father was a banker of some kind, working out of the country for Chase
Manhattan.  I felt the disapproval from Maria as Beth let that slip
but there was little she could do.  Beth had been raised in an world
were what you did wasn't so important as who you were and who you
knew.  Name dropping was like second nature to her.  Too young to have
much influence herself she relied on hints about her access to power
to impress.  She was a silly slut but in about ten minutes she was
going to forfill a fantasy I'd had for twenty years.

I started to move towards Doc's place.  Having been in the Service I
tend to think that everyone has the same sense of direction that I do
and I confess that I'd expected some comment.  However, they didn't
seem to notice, at least Beth kept talking and Maria kept silent as
before.

I was starting to think I could take them all the way to Doc's door
when Maria spoke.  "We should have reached the Interstate by now!"

It was an accusation, a challenge of sorts.  To some extent I liked
Beth, she was stupid, arrogant and vain but wasn't really that
unfriendly.  Maria seemed to be a complete bitch, a real ball breaker,
it would be interesting to see what happened with her.

"Yep," I said but kept driving.

Beth turned towards me eyes wide with fear.

"Relax," I said, "I'm not like your trucker friend and I'm not about
to leave you two by an on ramp in the middle of nowhere.  There's an
oasis a few miles further down the Interstate you can wait in the warm
there and you'll have a better chance of getting a lift on to
Worcester."

Beth, the stupid bitch, really wanted to believe, "An oasis?"

"A truck stop.  Hell I couldn't go back to the wife and tell her that
I left two St.  Mary's girls to fend for themselves on a night like
this."

Beth was satisfied but as expected Maria was more cautious, "If this
place exists why not use the Interstate to get to it?"  she asked.

I shrugged.  "That section's a toll road," I said.  "I'm willing to
help you girls out but I don't see why I should pay for doing it!"

That shut Maria up for now but I could tell the honeymoon was over.
The next time I needed to adjust the lights I reached over and threw
an unmarked switch near the driver's door.  From now on the clock was
ticking, it would only take them a few minutes to realize what I'd
done then all hell would break loose.  Fortunately I knew of a perfect
place not so far from here.  It was quiet and private and if I could
reach it my troubles would be over.

If........

If is a million dollar word, it sometimes means yes, sometimes it
means no.

In this case it seemed to mean *yes* because despite deviating from
the route the girls didn't notice.  In fact it was only when I pulled
off into the woods that they realized their danger and of course by
then it was far too late.

Surprisingly it was Beth who reacted first.  "What the...  What are
you doing?"  she demanded.

I smiled, "End of the line......."

Beth struggled.  Her hand flashed down to the release button for her
seat belt.  I watched her as she pressed the little red button.

Nothing happened.

I watched amused as she pounded it more but still it didn't release.
About this time she tried to move forward, but the seat belt reel was
locked down and she was pinned to her seat.  I glanced at Maria who
was starting to come to the same realization, that the seat belts were
locked and effectively strapped them to their seats.  Then the
screaming started.

Beth let rip, no surprise there I'd marked her as a mouthy bitch from
the start.  The big surprise was how little fuss Maria made; she just
looked on with hollow eyes.  I suppose it's the problem with being too
cerebral, you can't deal with sudden changes that well.  Still it gave
me a little more time so I endeavored to use it.  I reached under the
seat and found the small cloth bag I'd velcro'd there.  I don't think
Beth even saw the handcuffs until it was too late.  She was so busy
thrashing about and pulling on the belt.  I had her first wrist locked
before she even knew she was in trouble.  She struggled a little as I
passed the other bracelet through the lap belt and caught her free
hand.  By then it was over, with her hands chained to her waist she
couldn't stop me from forcing the ball gag into her screaming mouth.
I tightened the strap and the car was suddenly quiet.  She made a few
muffled sounds and I could hear Maria whispering a prayer but compared
to seconds before it was silent.

Beth started to weep.  Facing me she tried to say something but all
that emerged from behind the gag was a muffled nonsense.  I couldn't
tell what she said but her body language, hands clutched together,
eyes wide told me the story.  Beth was begging for her life.  Still
she could wait, my first priority was making Maria "comfortable".

The seat belts had been rigged by a friend of mine.  Tiny solenoids
activated by a dashboard switch locked the buckle and reel mechanism
in all the passenger belts leaving the driver free to move.  Though
I'd only used it once before on more than one girl that experience had
led me to ask for a number of refinements.  Leaving the car I walked
around to Maria's door.  Maria was still struggling, though being an
intelligent girl she probably only did it out of habit.  If she'd
wanted to she could have reached over and ungagged Beth, but she
didn't probably because she knew it wouldn't do any good.  Beth had
been very vocal for most of the last five minutes.  No one had come.

The bag had one more gag and three pairs of cuffs left.  I got some
cuffs ready then opened Maria's door.  Pushing a button on my key fob
I was rewarded by a loud click as Maria's seat belt disengaged.  For a
second she paused, then with remarkable speed she sprang from the car.
I grabbed and caught the coat.  We struggled for a second then she
managed to slip out of it and ran for the trees.  Throwing the coat
aside I started after her.  I wasn't worried, her only chance was to
make for the road and hope she could find someone to flag down before
I got to her.  She was heading the wrong way.  She was good, probably
a track star at school, but here she was in my world.  No amount of
sand track practice can prepare you for running on broken ground at
night.

She's almost made the trees when an exposed root brought her down.  I
needed no further encouragement, I was on her in an instant and her
hands were cuffed behind her before she'd taken her first breath.
Only when all else was lost did she start to scream and even then it
was a half hearted effort.  Like her struggles in the car I felt it
was as much to be doing *something* as it was a serious attempt to
escape..

I gagged her and we both waited a few minutes to get our breath back.
Then I pulled her up and dragged her back to the car.  As we got
closer I could hear Beth's muffled sobs, I doubted they could carry
beyond line of sight.

I paused by the trunk and opened it.  There was my bag and snow board
which I tossed aside for the moment.  Maria struggled but I was no
longer in a mood to play so I slammed the heel of my foot hard against
the back of her leg hearing the muffled squeal and feeling her
collapse to the ground.  Next to the spare wheel was a larger bag with
more supplies.  Plucking it out I turned to find Maria trying to crawl
away.  Grabbing her by the shoulders I carried her the few feet to her
discarded coat and dumped her on it.  Then I opened my bag and went to
work.

I used a couple of straps to fasten her legs together at knees and
ankles, but this was just to stop her struggling too much as I applied
the duct tape.  I started at her ankles winding the tape tightly
around her legs until I reached the knees.  These I left free as I
wanted to be able to bend her legs but I placed another band of tape
halfway up her thighs to pinion the top of her legs.  Wrists and
forearms were similarly wrapped.  Like Beth, Maria had been wearing a
polo necked sweater underneath her raincoat and while duct tape over
jeans made a viable bond I was a little worried about the wool
tearing.  So recovering the straps from her legs I reused them above
and bellow her elbows to strengthen her bonds.  Rolling her over I
removed the ball gag and replaced it with an inflatable bladder.  I
used a pump to inflate this until her cheeks were distended and her
eyes bulged.  Then I secured it in place first with layer after layer
of duct tape and finally a tight Ace bandage.  Satisfied that Maria
was silenced I finished up by using a couple of straps to hog-tie her
wrists to her ankles.  She complained a little, or at least tried to
but Maria was a realist, despite her little show of defiance she'd
realized it was over the moment she'd been unable to unfasten the seat
belt.  All she wanted now was to survive all this.  I admit she gave
me some problems when she realized she was destined for the trunk but
she was in no position to stop me.  Once I'd got her nicely tucked
inside I threw her coat on top and closed the lid.  My bags and snow
board joined their packs on the back seat and I turned my attention
back to Beth.

I got out of the service just after Desert Storm following a
fraternization problem between myself and a female Navy officer.  We
aren't talking Tailhook here, in fact she outranked me, and to be
honest as we were on our own time and there were no husbands or wives
to get hurt so I never saw it anyone's business but our own.  They say
that dress whites and Marine green don't mix but we did ok there for a
while.  Still the Brass didn't see it that way and decided someone had
to pay.  I was due to Re-up that year so I was the obvious candidate.
She was young and ambitious I was old and cynical so I cut a deal.  No
charges, I just left at the end of my final tour and saved her from
the scuttlebutt.

When I got out I'd kicked around for a while but to be honest I'd been
in too long to be good at anything else.  Mercenary work just didn't
interest me.  Hell, I'd fought and some of my buddies had died to make
the New World Order and I didn't feel like helping to break it up
again.

I came across Doc in a gambling house, the old bastard was one hell of
a poker player, and we'd got to talking.  Well, he'd been buying so I
did most of the talking.  In the end he asked if I wanted a a simple
delivery job.  I'd thought he meant drugs and had been a little
reluctant to agree but I was low on funds by then.  In the end I just
figured that anyone taking that stuff deserved what they got so I
agreed.  We went back to his hotel room were he introduced me to a
beautiful Asian girl called Mi Lin.  I figured Mi was a hooker he'd
hired for the night so wasn't so surprised when he offered me her
services.  I admit that those little oriental chicks always pushed my
buttons and this one was so willing.  I'd been around the world many
times and used the local pro's in just about every country you can
imagine but none were as eager to please an Mi Lin.  Some don't to
oral, some don't do anal.  Mi never said no to anything and in
addition she had this cute habit of calling me *Master* all the time.
She was literally the best fuck I'd ever had.

The next day Doc turned up and I figured it was time to pay the piper.
I'd expected him to give me a briefcase or something.  Instead he told
me to deliver Mi Lin to a cat house in New Mexico.  It would take two
or three days and of course I could use her as I saw fit during that
time.  I'd expected Mi to object but she seemed quite happy.  It was
then that Doc told me what he did for a living.  Doc was a trainer of
slaves.  He could take any normal healthy woman and turn her into an
obedient sex machine in a little under six weeks.  It was hard to
believe but Doc claimed Mi was living proof.  I don't know what Mi had
been doing two months before but now she was content to fuck and suck;
all night if necessary.  I'd taken her on the trip to New Mexico half
expecting her to jump ship at the first opportunity but she seemed
happy to be going along almost as if she looked forward to life as a
cheap whore.

I worked for Doc for about a year before I started recruiting, that is
finding women and girls for Doc to process.  We usually picked
runaways or prostitutes, women who could go missing without being
noticed.  Occasionally though we got special orders though Doc's
contacts.  Men who wanted their ex-wives, jilting lovers or pushy
bosses turning into fuck toys.  Because of the risks these jobs often
paid better that providing a fresh slave.  I pulled twenty three
kidnappings last year, none of which have ever been reported.  I've
become the ultimate predator, like a big jungle cat I know my
territory and my prey, know what to risk and when.

And like a cat I sometimes play with my victims.

The moment I'd seen Beth in the full St.  Mary's uniform those twenty
year old feelings had been rekindled and I knew that somewhere God was
laughing.  The years disappeared in an instant and I'd known
immediately that I had to take them.  It may seem unfair that they
should pay for someone else's mistake but it did have a certain
symmetry.  Besides every St.  Mary's girl I'd ever met was a total
bitch and these two were unlikely to be different.

I smiled at Beth who shuffled in her seat as much as the belt would
allow.  I had something special in store for her and it started with a
gag.  I reached into the bag and found what I wanted.  It was a rubber
mouthpiece shaped at the front a little like a boxer's gumshield.  One
of Doc's perverted friends was a dentist who we called in if a slave
needed dental work.  Once in a drunken stupor I'd explained this idea
to him and the next time I'd visited Doc's a parcel had been waiting
for me......

Carefully I filled the gumshield with a special resin.  She watched
silently probably trying to figure what I was doing.  When I was ready
I took a strap from the bag and slipped it loosely around her neck.
She panicked.  She started shaking her head blabbering and crying.  It
took me a while to understand.

"Stop it!  I have no intention of strangling you, that isn't what the
strap is for.  Now cut it out or I'll hit you."

She stopped, eyes full of fear.

Quickly I unbuckled the ball gag and before she had time to respond
shoved the rubber mouthpiece between her teeth.  As she shook her head
and tried to spit it out I forced one end of the strap under her jaw
and the other over her head.  Then I tightened it clamping her teeth
down on the gumshield.  Next came the cuffs.  Up front was good,
behind was better.  I released her seat belt then one wrist.  She
tried to resist but her position was hopeless.  I pulled a small loop
of fishing twine loose from the seat and threaded the cuffs through it
before refastening her wrist behind her.  She tugged for a while but
there was no give.  I refastened the seat belt and pushed the magic
button and she was strapped to her chair once more.  Reaching into the
bag I took out a leg clincher, a device that straps around the thighs
and holds the legs together.  She struggled and as her legs weren't
currently bound it proved quiet an effort to get the clincher on and
tightened.  However once it was done the effect was perfect.  Beth's
upper legs were completely immobilized.  Lower legs were more of a
problem.  I have some special boots at home that are ideal for this
but of course they are never around when you need them.  Instead I had
a novel binder.  This was a length of a rubber material the outside of
which was covered in cotton cloth, the inside with Velcro.  Reaching
down I wrapped it tightly around her lower legs just above her ankles.
Pulling her legs back I fastened an eye on the binder to a small hook
under the seat.  She moaned a little but now she couldn't move her
legs at all.

The I removed the chin strap watching her reaction.  Her eyes bulged,
she gurgled.  I smiled.  The resin had set, cementing her teeth to the
gumshield and locking her jaws closed.  Still her gurgles were too
loud.  Forcing her lips apart I located the small valve set in the
front to the gumshield and inserted the pump I'd used earlier with
Maria.  As the bladder in the mouthpiece started to inflate Beth's
cries became more and more muffled.  When I determined she was quiet
enough I removed the pump.  Next I stuck a thin strip of flesh covered
tape over her mouth being very careful to work it around her lips.
The tape was thin and but for color differences it was hard to tell
were her skin stopped and the tape started.  Despite her struggles I
managed to apply a layer of foundation makeup to her face and the
tape.  After a few threats she held still enough for me to apply the
next layer.  I finished by painting a pair of pouty lips on the tape
with lip gloss.  Even sitting next to her I couldn't see the join.
The mouthpiece and tape together were almost a 100% gag you could
stand a few feet away and hear nothing.  I pulled the plad skirt down
over the leg clincher then got out and walked to her door.  I glanced
inside.  Her cuffed hands were behind her back and out of sight.  The
leg clincher was hidden by the skirt, the binder at her ankles looked
like knee socks and of course there was no sign of the gag.  A casual
observer could see nothing strange.  I smiled then got back inside, as
a final thought I pulled out a long dark wig and put it on her head.
I doubted anyone would remember her but it didn't hurt to make her
look a little different.  Satisfied I started up and headed for the
road.

Reaching over I found Beth's breast though the sweater and started to
massage it.  I became aware of a very faint muffled protest but the
engine covered it completely.

"Tell me Beth was this what the impudent trucker wanted?"  Of course
she didn't answer.  "Now come on Beth," I said, "You can nod and
shake.  I'm sure you can answer simple questions.  You're helpless,
you must realize that.  The only hope you and your friend have is to
please me and it would please me if you answer.  Understand?"

She nodded.

"Good girl," I said encouragingly.  "Now I'll repeat the question.
Was this what the trucker wanted?"

She nodded and looked down.

"Bet he wanted a blow job too didn't he?"

She nodded again.

"Thought so.  You see I doubt his schedule would let him fuck even one
of you so he'd have to take a couple of quickies.  Funny isn't it, if
you hadn't been so high and mighty and had actually sucked the poor
bastard you'd be safe in Worcester by now."

She nodded and looked at the floor.  A couple of hours ago she'd been
horrified at the prospect of giving some poor trucker a blow job.  Now
I think she'd suck the whole Teamsters Union just to be safe in
Worcester.

"Tell me Beth do you want to suck me?"

She nodded frantically.  It hadn't escaped her that I'd have to remove
the horrible gag for her to blow me.

"What about fucking me. Do you want to fuck me Beth?"
She hesitated, I smiled.  She didn't want to go that far.  "Well I'm
afraid you are going to fuck me Beth and suck me and do whatever else
I want do you want to know why?"

Getting no response I decided to tell her anyway.

"You see Beth back in '76 I was just a little older than you are now
and living just a few miles from your Alma Mater."  She looked up.
"That's Latin for St. Mary's." I smiled. "Anyway I met this girl,
let's call her Jane.  She looked a lot like you, about the same size,
same blonde hair, same uniform.  I loved her.  You know they say young
love burns the hottest.  Are you in love Beth?"

She shook her head.

"Shame," I said, "Young love is a wonderful thing.  You see my mother
died when I was very young so when I fell for this girl I fell real
hard.  We had sex day and night almost continuously every opportunity
we got.  Jane was one randy bitch, she was never satisfied.  Cunt,
ass, mouth."  I smiled evilly, "You'll see.  I wanted to marry her but
when I suggested it she backed away and wouldn't even answer my calls.
She was real hard to get to while she was at school so I waited for
the Easter break.  It must be close to twenty years ago today, I'm
sure you can see the symmetry Beth.  I was just amazed.  Anyway I went
to her families place in Boston to confront her.  She laughed in my
face, told me that I was just a toy.  A blue collar boy she could just
use and discard, worse her father was there and he offered me money to
get lost.  Told me to take it and blow or he'd get his friend the
police commissioner to have me picked up.  I left with them laughing
at me Beth, feeling helpless and alone.  Just as helpless and alone as
you feel now."

Several cars had passed I'd watched her reaction, felt her despair at
knowing that the other drivers could see nothing wrong.

"I joined the Marines.  Got involved in Recon, did my share of black
ops.  When I left the service I met this guy.  He trains slaves,
claims he can turn any woman into a sex toy in a few weeks.  Once he
offered to make a slave for me, sort of a Christmas bonus.  He said if
I chose the woman he would do the rest.  So I went out to find Jane,
it wasn't difficult her face was in the society columns almost
constantly.  Trouble was that she was married, had a couple of kids.
Kids need a mother Beth, growing up without one I realized that.  I
could have taken her, could have used her as a plaything as she used
me but then her kids would have suffered.  It didn't seem fair somehow
so I let her go.  My friend's offer still stands though and all I need
is a girl.  You are going to be that girl Beth.  In a couple of weeks
you'll be sucking and fucking like a good little whore."

We passed through a small town and I watched as Beth tried desperately
to attract someone's attention with the little movement she had, she
got a few strange looks but no one realized what was going on.  I
smiled.  By the time we left town she was weeping.  I felt her despair
and knew Doc would be pleased, the first stage of processing had
already begun.

About an half hour later and still a few miles from Doc's I pulled
over and went around to her side.  Doc has a rule, one that we who
work for him rigidly obey, no slave will ever know the exact location
of Doc's house.  Doc supplies girls all over the country and once
they've left him he can no longer be certain how secure they'd be
kept.  It was possible that despite his training a girl could get away
and alert the authorities.  Our clients always work through a chain of
intermediaries and never come here but the girls are different.

I lowered Beth's seat letting it recline down as far as I could.
Reaching into the bag I took a small tube of cream and told her to
close her eyes.  She jumped a little as I applied the cream to her
lashes, but she would realize the benefits soon enough.  Very gently I
stuck an oval of surgical tape over each eyelid sealing them closed.
Satisfied she could see nothing I took a simple sleep mask like the
ones you get on long distance flights and fastened it over her eyes.
Closing the door I cast a critical eye at the scene but could see
nothing suspicious.  How many times on a long trip does your passenger
try to sleep?  It was dark and quite late and my passenger tired of
being woken by the light was using a sleep mask to try and get some
rest.  Satisfied I checked on Maria.

The girl looked up the moment I opened the trunk.  She tried to say
something but of course it was pointless.  A quick check of her bonds
found she'd been unable to budge a single one and the quick
application of a padded leather blindfold ensured she would see
nothing when we took her out.
 
Satisfied that my guests were comfortable I pressed on to Doc's.
Every mile brought me a little closer to Kitten and by the time I was
entering the lane I was very, very hard.  It's said that even a
craftsman can make a mistake and Kitten was mine.  I'd come across her
in a New York alleyway on a cold December day five years ago.  I could
see that she was young, though the grime and the smell kept me from
realizing just how young.  She was just sitting there starving
contemplating whether to sell her blood or her virtue first when I
came along and made the decision for her.  She was the easiest capture
I ever made though I feel she'd probably have willing signed up for
slavery if it meant 3 squares and a warm bed.  She traveled to Doc's
in my trunk very securely bound and gagged but it was unnecessary as
she gave me no trouble.  It was only later while she was showering at
Doc's that we realized the truth, Kitten was only thirteen years old.
Now neither Doc nor myself are pedophiles and we don't deal with
anyone that is.  That meant that we had a slave who was a good three
years ahead of her sell by date.  We discussed it, even contemplated
throwing her back but it was far too risky.  Besides as we watched her
wolf down that first meal we realized what a hard time she'd had.

It took little encouragement for her to tell us her story.  Her mother
had been a Pro in Pittsburgh, she didn't know her father.  She'd been
taken into care at age nine when her mom had been put away for the
third time.  Somehow her mother had got an early parole but had died
of a drug overdose before she could reclaim her daughter.  Kitten had
been in and out of foster care since then finally ending up in a
children's home.  She didn't want to say much more but Doc's
examination had revealed the truth.  At thirteen Kitten was no longer
a virgin and hadn't been for some time.

In the end the solution to the Kitten problem was obvious.  Doc lived
alone except for various "guests" and to be honest he wasn't as young
as he was.  So Kitten became his house slave, cooking, cleaning
looking after the old man's needs.  He now claims that he called her
Kitten because of the way she likes having her hair stroked but I can
remember what he realy said that first time.  After all a Kitten is a
little pussy :-)

At fifteen Kitten's sexual side started to assert itself and with some
reluctance Doc started teaching her the various tricks he taught his
sex slaves.  She proved to have quite an appetite and on her sixteenth
birthday, when she was beyond Doc's taboos, she had taken him to bed
and virtually raped him.  I used to have trouble explaining to others
just who she was.  She was Doc's slave, mistress, housekeeper,
nursemaid, assistant, companion........  granddaughter???  In a
strange way maybe so.  In the end Doc gave me the definitive answer.
"Sorcerers apprentice!"  he said with a smile and from then on it was
settled.

I bumped down the drive the final few yards to Doc's door.  I kept
asking him to get it surfaced but he just smiled.  The noise, he said,
was an extra warning of visitor in case his numerous electronic
systems broke down.  As I neared the door I heard his voice from
inside.

"Charles, old boy, before you come in go to the beer cooler and bring
me a couple of cans.  Take what you want as well."

An old wood and wire cooler sat on the porch, it had no refrigeration
other than the cold New England air, but that seemed to be enough.  I
knew what I'd find inside, cans of British beer sent to Doc by one of
his European customers.  Grabbing a couple more for myself I went
inside.

"You should put these in the refrigerator" 

"Dear me Charles, whatever for?"

"Sorry I forgot. You drink English beer warm."

Doc smiled, and combat began.  "Not at all dear boy.  Warm British
beer is I'm afraid an American exaggeration.  Beer should be kept at
the *right* temperature.  In my youth it used to be hand pumped from
vats in the pub cellar.  Britain is a cold country, dear boy, I assure
you it arrives anything but warm.  The problem you have here is that
you overcool your beer.  It's a man's drink not some fizzy beverage,
it should be treated with respect."

 "Still as grouchy as ever I see."

"One of the benefits of age I'm afraid.  In another fifty years you'll
see it's attractions."

I poured the beer into the glass he offered and sat back.  "Well you
wanted me and I'm here.  So what's so damned important?"

"Ah yes.  I'm sorry to drag you from your holidays but something of an
emergency has come up.  I'm doing a special job for one of our New
York clients, two girls to be prepared in advance of some office
outing.  Very good money obviously but due to some mix-up the date's
been brought forward."
 
I sipped the beer, "Are they ready?"

"Oh yes, have been for a few weeks I've been holding them here until
the client was ready.  It's sort of a strange deal, he wants them to
do something at this party of his then he want's us to dispose of
them."

"Dispose?"

"Juan will take them no problem.  Teressa has also expressed an
interest though I don't know yet if she wants both.  As you'll see
they're more valuable as a set but there are problems with Mexico at
the moment.  Still with the training paid for we could almost afford
to give them away....."

"Seems straight forward," I said, "Can't see that there is too much of
a problem."

Doc shuffled uneasily. "Truth is that there are some problems."

"Oh?"

"You are familiar with my techniques Charles.  You know that some have
taken fifty years to develop.  I admit to having some failures in the
past but for perhaps the past thirty years I've been sure enough of my
findings to be able to draw up certain axioms."

I nodded, when he first told me what he did I'd not really believed
him.  In the Marines I'd been through special training, tortured by
professionals to find my breaking point and give me the tools to
resist torture by the other side.  With constant physical and mental
abuse almost anyone will break, the trainers job was to gauge that
point before the subject was irreversibly damaged.

Compared to Doc those guys were in the Stone Age.  I've picked up a
runaway and two months later seen the same girl turned into a
accomplished whore.  Doc's girls aren't just obedient, they are so
compliant, so willing.  Doc claims his technique makes the slave
actively need sex, they have an enormous appetite and seem to
genuinely enjoy every moment.  Pleasure, he says, is much more
effective persuader than pain.  Hurt someone and all they'll do is try
and avoid what caused the pain.  Pleasure someone and they will
actively seek out more.

Doc scratched his nose, "The problem is this.  Our client wanted one
of the girls to maintain most of her original personality.  That is,
he wanted her aware of what she was doing and able to respond in a
characteristic way to her environment.  Now as you know this implies
that rather than break the girl we should condition her with various
desired responses.  This means that she would appear as normal but
when given a trigger event or an order from the master she's been
conditioned to obey she would perform the desired task."

I nodded after six years I understood *that* much.

"All my research shows such a thing requires between three and six
months depending on subject.  I've *never* produced such a girl in
less time, not with total success anyway.  The problem is that our
client's time scale has left a little under six weeks for training.
That was barely enough time to break her friend.  I've made a start, I
feel that she'll do the job he requires but our control of her is very
unstable.  I'm afraid for the most part you must consider both of them
hostile and transport them accordingly."

New recruits were "hostile," that meant that if they weren't tied down
they would try to run away.  Usually transporting one of Doc's girls
after processing was easy.  No escape attempts, no bonds you just
drove them somewhere like they were regular people.  In fact the only
downside was that if you didn't fuck them every night they had a
tendency to be moody in the morning.  Tough job but someone has to do
it.

"What about this "party" if she gives us problems then there could be
witnesses?"

Doc smiled, "I'll give you a drug, it's a will suppressant, inject her
with in about twenty minutes before you arrive and she won't give you
much trouble for the next few hours.  Let them do their thing, then
pack them up and ship them back and let me worry what to do with
them."

I remembered.  "Doc, you remember you offered to process a slave for
me?"

"Yes?"

"Well I've found one.  I recruited a couple of hitchers tonight and
one of them is perfect."

"Recruited? Not around here I trust?"

I smiled, "Twenty, thirty miles."

I heard Doc breath in, "Charles, how many times do I have to tell you.
We do not recruit around here.  For God sake not even a dog pees in
his own basket."

"I didn't intend to take them! When you see her you'll understand."

"Very well.  I suppose if there here it's a little too late.  We'll
need Kitten.  You'd better get her."

"Where is she?"

"In her basket."

"Basket?" I was surprised, " Is she being punished?"

"No, our little Kitten has a few more kinks than even we knew.  Go get
her and you'll see."

Doc keeps his slaves in hidden underground cells and dungeons.
Nothing to do with his illicite career is above surface and so a raid
at any time day or night was unlikely to yield any clues.  However
Kitten had been a problem.  A house slave has to wash and clean and
look after her master which is fine except a sudden raid was likely to
find her above ground.  With this in mind we had built Kitten's
"Basket" a small hidden cell concealed within part of the fireplace.
At night she had slept underground with the others, but during the day
when she wasn't needed or if the security system warned of a sudden
visitor she would be locked up in the basket until Doc was ready to
let her out.  Doc had been a cautious man, despite Kitten's good will
he had still kept her bound and gagged for much of the first three
months.  It hadn't been uncommon to see the girl naked but for her
bonds struggling to clean the floor with her hands tied.  Doc had kept
her naked not for any sex reason but because the lack of clothes meant
that she could not leave the house in the cold weather and discouraged
escape.

Gently I pushed the hidden latches and swung the basket's door open.
Kitten was inside dressed in a leather basque and bikini brief set.
Stockings and high heel pumps were a must of course as that was one of
Doc's fetishes as were the long leather opera gloves.  The room which
had been large enough to take a bound thirteen year old was now barely
big enough for Kitten to lie down it.  She was gagged with a large
leather pad gag of Doc's patented design, her ankles fastened to a
spreader.  I couldn't see her hands but figured they were bound behind
her.  A length of white cotton rope had been used as a crotch strap
wrapped once around her waist then passing between her legs pushing
the leather panties deep into her damp twat.  I noticed the small
movement of knots she'd tied as they teased her clit through the
panties, the other end of the strap was probably tied to her wrist in
some way.  The whole thing looked frustrating, I doubted that she
could ever get off on her own.

"She did it herself a few hours back," Doc said, "I think it's her way
to get you to fuck her.  I'll go out and see to that girl of yours.
You'll find the keys on the small table, a condom too.  Please use it
Charles old man, not that I don't trust you but remember you are
peeing in the well I drink from."

Kitten's eyes twinkled, she'd been leading me on for months, cock
teasing me until I could think of nothing else.  Doc ran an open house
policy.  The few of us who had contact with him directly had almost
unlimited access to the slave pens.  The only exceptions tended to be
if a client specified that they wanted exclusive use or if sex would
somehow interfer with training.  Other than that any girl in the place
was fair game.

Except for Kitten.  As part of her strange status Kitten only fucked
the men Kitten wanted to fuck.  Oh I have no doubt that Doc could
order her to do it, after all she was still a slave, but I doubted he
ever would.  So Kitten had played with me for the last few months and
this was the payoff.  I couldn't see the bondage angle though.  Doc
keeps all his girls bound and gagged as a security measure, and all of
his slaves have been fucked in bondage at least once.  Kitten was the
exception though so I could only figure that this kink was entirely of
her own choosing.

By now I'd got my pants off and was trying with trembling hand to roll
on the condom.  Kitten just watch amused tugging occasionally on the
crotch strap to keep things cooking.  At last I was ready I used a
knife to cut the cord above her snatch and slowly pulled the strings
to release the bikini briefs.  Kitten moaned as I removed the panties;
Doc's gags are very effective and I doubted she would get much louder.
She trembled with anticipation and the overpowering smell of her sex
hit me making my rubber coated cock swell even more.  I felt I would
have to start soon or I'd pass out so I put my cock on the entrance of
her womb and pushed.  She gave a muffled squeal.  Even though she was
well lubricated she was impossibly tight.  I paused, concerned that I
may have hurt her.  I heard the spreader drag for a second as she
adjusted her position.  Then she thrust up engulfing me in a tight
warmness.  Her muffled scream sounding surprisingly loud in the tight
confines of the basket.  She thrust again and I finally got the point.
I started fucking her in earnest feeling her muscles at they grasped
my cock and pulled me deeper inside.  The tightness was incredible it
was almost as if we were joined at the waist.  I felt her orgasm
building deep inside her body feeling it wash over my buried cock like
a tidal wave.  She came and her hot cunt sucked deeply on my cock,
pumping, draining me dry as I seemed to cum for hour after hour.

I fell back feeling relieved I had some body fluids left and wondering
for some strange reason if Mi Lin knew what had happened, as if a
woman can somehow know when she's suddenly no longer "the best."

I managed to stagger to my feet and get the keys, one for the
spreader, one for the cuffs and one for the gag.  I freed her slowly
allowing myself the opportunity to tease her bound body before finally
letting her go.  I left the gag 'til last so that I could remove it
when she was standing.  I pulled the mouthpiece free.

She licked her lips.  "Hi Master Charlie," She said, voice hoarse and
sexy.

"Hi Kitten."

I didn't know what else to say.  It was pointless asking if it was
good for her, the volume of her cries despite Doc's special gag had
proved that.  It was pointless to say that I loved her because she
belonged to someone else, literally.  In the end Doc interrupted the
moment.

The door opened and in staggered Maria.  she "looked" around the room
that is her blindfolded face traversed slightly.  Her gag and the
bonds around her upper body were still as before and swatches of cut
duct tape still adhered to her jeans.  She was joined a second later
by Beth.  Doc had removed the leg bindings and the sleep mask for some
reason she stood there looking oddly normal save for her taped eyes.

Kitten recovered the bikini briefs and I put on my pants.

Doc appeared behind the two girls and pushed Maria forward.  The
helpless girl staggered and almost fell making a little mewing sound
behind her gag.

"Ah Kitten, all finished are we?  Good girl.  Now take this one down
and start processing her straight away.  I want a full workup,
virginal swabs, urine test and a blood sample for the HIV test."

Kitten sighed, from bondage babe to private nurse in a few minutes.
She flashed me a smile then grabbing Maria's arm she started to pull
her towards the hidden dungeon door.

Doc pointed at Beth's concealed gag.  "Not still doing this are you.
It's going to get you caught one of these days."

"I think it's pretty good myself.  Squeeze a nipple if you don't
believe me."

Doc shook his head, "I have no doubt that the gag is effective and I
agree that it isn't easily noticeable but the fact remains that while
a slave is in public view she has too many opportunities to draw
attention to herself."

"First up, I only use it at night and even then only for short trips.
Second the alternative was to put her on the back seat.  I accept that
there is less chance of her being seen but if someone does see a girl
bound and gagged in the back of your car they *will* notice."

"And if you're stopped?" He persisted.

"If she's tied up in the back it's all over anyway!  This way I just
show her the gun and make it clear that if she draws attention to
herself the cop dies.  In poor light you can't easily notice it even
close up."

Doc shook his head, I don't think he'll ever be convinced.

"This is the one you want processed?" he said.

I nodded.

"How much?"

"Full treatment, the works."

"Expensive!"

"So your offer was only good for a six week fuck toy?"  I asked
innocently.

He scowled, "Full treatment it is then."  He reached over and pulled
off the wig letting Beth's natural Blonde hair cascade down.
"Isn't.......?"  he began.  I put a finger to his lips silencing him.
Beth "looked" around disorientated and scared.

"We had better get Kitten up here to process this one," Doc said.

I shook my head.  "I want to save the uniform," I said, "Kitten can't
manage that on her own."

Doc smiled, "Never underestimate Kitten, Charles.  She's far more
talented than you can imagine."

Still we took Beth down to a dungeon room and stripped her ourselves.
She struggled of course but still blindfolded and gagged she was too
disorientated to put up a spirited resistance.  I showed Doc the
special solvent solution that allowed the hidden gag to be removed and
even he had to admit it was ingenious.  When we were finished Beth
hung from the ceiling, arms and legs separated by spreaders,
blindfolded with a conventional leather blindfold and chewing happily
on one of Doc's gags.

Satisfied that she was ready for Kitten we headed off in search of
Maria.

Doc smiled, "Charles old man I must confess I never realized you were
so ruthless.  You can't take the mother so you take the daughter.  I
am right?  Beth is Jane's daughter?"

I nodded, "You can imagine my reaction, and tonight of all nights.  I
didn't realize until she took her jacket off and I saw her in the full
uniform.  I mean it's been four years since I last checked up on Jane,
Beth was just a little kid then.  You must see why I took her, it
seemed like fate.  I can't imagine what Jane Walters daughter would be
doing hitching to Worcester.  It was so bizarre, so perfect....."

Kitten appeared in the corridor.  "I can answer some of your
questions, if you're interested."

We walked into another dungeon area to find Maria hanging naked and
bound identically to her friend.  Kitten gave Doc a clipboard and
pointed to some results.  "HIV and micro bacteriology will have to
wait, but this bitch is definitely pregnant."

I watched Maria stiffen.

Doc checked the clipboard, "You checked?"
Kitten shrugged, "Twice, she's either pregnant or has some form of
ovarian cyst.  Given her age the later seems unlikely."

I looked at Kitten amazed.
Doc glanced up, "Come now Charles you shouldn't be that surprised.
Training is training, is training.  The same techniques I use to make
a sex slave in two months can make a pretty good doctor in a couple of
years."

"Pretty good?" Kitten pouted and stormed back towards Maria. 

I watched her go.

Doc bent over and whispered conspiratorially, "Told you not to
underestimate her....."

Kitten removed Maria's gag.  "Ok you bitch who got you up the spout."

Maria seemed confused.

"Up the spout?" I whispered to Doc.

"Pregnant.  I'm afraid too many years living with an Englishman has
played havoc with Kitten's idioms."

"Let me go you bitch!" Maria screamed. I saw Kitten stiffen.

Kitten tutted, "Wrong answer and wrong name.  You are a bitch, you
will call me mistress or by god you'll suffer."

I felt my blood run cold.

"May I suggest that we adjourn off to the snug for a whisky?"  Doc
suggested.  "I get the feeling things are about to get a little
unpleasant.  I let Kitten do most of the discipline these days because
quite frankly she has a stronger stomach than me."

"Please stay," Kitten said, "This really won't take a second."

She turned and hissed in Maria ear in a voice so cold and viscous I
found myself with the chills again.  "Hungry bitch?  Arms getting a
little tired?  I'm the one who decides when you come down.  *I* say
when or if you eat.  So tell me slave what do you say."

"S...sorry." 

I smiled.  It wasn't easy for a St.  Mary's girl to apologize, that
isn't the way they are brought up, but Maria was a realist and
survival meant not messing with Kitten.

"Sorry what?" Kitten asked.

"Sorry Mistress."

"Good girl!"  Kitten said.  She turned and smiled.  "See that didn't
take long did it."  Turning back to Maria she smiled, "So tell us
about how you got yourself pregnant."

Even with half her face covered by a blindfold Maria looked sheepish.
"Carl....  a .. a boy who works on the grounds.  We took precautions I
bought him condoms and hid them.  There must have been a defect."  She
slumped down miserable.

Then I suddenly realized, "You were going to Worcester for an abortion
weren't you??"

She nodded and sniffed, "One of the girls knew of a guy.  We couldn't
use a legal clinic, they have to take your name...  I'd have to have
my parent's approval....  They'd have to know.  We thought using one
outside of town was better but we didn't have transport."

"And Beth," I asked.

"The girl's said someone would have to come with me, in case there
were problems.  They drew straws......"

And suddenly a thousand to one shot became ten thousand to
one.........

I cleared my throat, "This guy you were going to see, what was his
address?"  A plan had started to form.

"In my jeans pocket....."

Kitten had cut the jeans off with a knife but fortunately the pockets
were intact.  Kitten reached down and picked up the remains working
her was through the pockets methodically.  Finally she found a piece
of paper which she handed to Doc who read it and winced.

"My dear young lady I know that things may seem quite desperate for
you now but I can assure you that you've had a fortunate escape.  This
man is a scoundrel, a quack and a butcher!  I shudder to think what
would have befallen you at his hands."

Maria "looked" up. "Really?" She asked weakly.

"Really," Doc said firmly, "Kitten take our young mother here down and
find her a nice private cell away from the others.  Minimal bonds, no
gag and double rations.  She is eating for two after all."

"Two?" Maria whispered.

"Yes my dear I think we will let you come to term on this one.  Do not
fear both myself and Mistress Kitten  are well qualified you will
get the best in private care."

"B...but I don't want the baby."

Doc smiled, "No but we do.  Now hurry along Kitten dear and do make
sure that our mother to be is nice and warm."

I watched as Kitten dragged the still reluctant Maria away.  "*You*
want the baby?"  I asked.

"Oh yes," Doc said, "Good healthy white baby can easily pull in twenty
thousand if you can find the right adoptive parents.  That's a tidy
profit on nine months room and board.  Further it will establish Maria
there as having a good reproductive track record.  There are societies
were that is a highly valued property in a slave."

"You're a bastard you know."

Doc smiled, "And your point is?  Anyway while were here I may as well
introduce you to your cargo."

We wondered through the pens.  Doc's place was built to handle twenty
girls or more, but that had been in the sixties when there had been an
almost infinite number of Flower Children to choose from and HIV was a
far off nightmare.  These days he keeps perhaps ten at a time a number
he and Kitten can handle easily between them.  The corridors are
always quiet, Doc keeps his girls bound and gagged all the time to
"discourage mischief".  I must admit it works. It's hard for the girls
to plan a mutiny when they can't talk to one another.

We stopped at a cell occupied by two girls.  Unlike the occupants of
some of the other cells these two wore clothes.  The older woman had
dark hair and was dressed in a fairly expensive female business suit
complete with stockings and sensible pumps.  She mumbled something
into her gag and tried to move forward.  The steel collar around her
neck stopped her getting any further.  Doc pointed to her.  "That's
the one we were talking about," he said, "Her name's Myra."  "This
one," He said pointing to the younger blonde girl, "Used to be called
Joanne but these days we call her JoJo."

JoJo was dressed in the most incredible outfit I'd ever seem. A latex 
lace up basque, latex thigh high five inch heeled boots and shiny
latex gloves.

"This is their outfit for the party, we kept them in it after today's
practice so that they can give you a demonstration."  He handed me a
key and nodded towards Myra then started to unfasten JoJo.

"Right ladies go to work."

Myra sat as if she was at a desk.  A pair of glasses had appeared from
somewhere and she sat pantomiming reading papers.  Pausing she pressed
a button on an invisible intercom.

"JoJo come in here please."

JoJo flounced over. There was something in the way she moved, in the 
vacant look in her eyes that told me she was a six week special.  Doc
had broken her, destroying completely the woman she used to be and
programming the husk as a simple sex toy.  I could see how Myra could
be a problem, there was still a flicker of self awareness behind those
brown eyes but for JoJo it was all over.  All she could wish for now
was a kind master and an easy life.  It was unlikely she'd have
either.

"JoJo!  Fine personal assistant you are I was looking through these
accounts and I've found a problem."

"Really miss what's wrong?" Even her voice lacked any personality.

"There's still money in them you little bitch! Why do I employ you!"

JoJo squirmed pushing her latex covered cleavage in the older woman's
face.  "I dunno.  Because I lick slit good?"

Myra stood up threw off her jacket and the glasses and then Doc
pressed a button and the music started.  I'd seen lesbian displays
before, most erotic dance shows have at least one if they can get away
with it.  Most are quiet boring as you soon get the feeling that the
girls are just play acting.  This was different it had an energy and
rhythm about it that was unmatched in my experience each woman latched
on to the other licking fingering teasing in time to the music.  There
was a strange urgency to it all as each woman tried desperately to
bring the other off.  I looked at JoJo, the vacant look had been
replaced by a desperate unearthly hunger.  I saw it's reflection in
Myra's eyes but I also saw something more, a horror, self loathing and
disgust.  It hovered just below the surface suppressed by Doc's
conditioning but it was there.  Somewhere the real Myra was aware of
what she was doing, aware but unable to stop.  Then suddenly JoJo
came, and moments later Myra followed her with a screaming mind
stunning orgasm that left her twitching on the floor.  I helped her
up.  The vacant look had crept into her eyes as if the orgasm had
somehow crushed the last vestige of her personality.  She didn't
struggle as I rebound her and shoved the gag back into her limp mouth.

We went back upstairs in silence.

"What was that Doc?  What have we got ourselves into?"

"That was one hundred percent what the client ordered," Doc said
defensively.  "He even scripted it and chose the music.  You see there
is a gimmick.  I've made it so that each woman has an orgasm at
perhaps a tenth of it's usual potency.  Except, if she comes just
after another woman then it's more like ten times the usual potency."

"So each tries to make the other cum first!"

"Right!  If you cum first you get a little tremble.  Cum second and
the world explodes."

"So Myra won just now."

Doc smiled, "She usually does, one of the advantages of not having
been broken yet.  The whole setup was the client's idea he just asked
if it was possible."
 
"But why?"

Doc handed me a whisky, "Myra worked for a major Manhattan bank in
their foreign trading desk.  Quite senior, a VP I believe.  Joanne was
her PA.  Our client was another VP who's department used the Foreign
Desk a lot.  He started to notice some irregularities which at first
he put down to some over ambitious trading.  Gradually though he
started to find evidence of a widespread securities fraud being run
from somewhere inside Myra's department.  As was common procedure at
the bank he approached the board in Myra's absence and was ordered to
investigate fully.  One weekend he and some of his people entered
Myra's departmental records and started to do an audit."

I could see where this was going, "And the culprit turned out to be
Myra.."

"Exactly!  She had embezzled several million dollars in the past three
years and he was able to prove it.  He called her in and asked for an
explanation and she just laughed in his face.  Told him not to be a
stupid little boy, that they couldn't go to law because after Barrings
and that Tokyo scandal any publicity would bring down the bank.  She
even threatened to go public herself if he pushed it.  She handed him
her resignation and just left laughing at him as she went and taking
Joanne with her."

"So he hired you to get revenge."

"In a way," Doc said, "You were in London that week so Martin and Ray
picked up our two young friends.  The bank has managed to bury the
loss through some careful accounting.  The office has a tradition of
going out to a cabaret evening once a year. This year our man will 
provide the entertainment."

"How's he going to explain it?" I asked puzzled.

"He'll claim that Myra agreed to do in exchange for not being sued for
breach of contract."

"Seems a little thin," I said, "Still if he thinks they'll buy it."

"The party is tomorrow night in a club in Manhattan.  You will take
them to the show and bring them back here afterwards." 

Doc paused.  "By the way Charles, in nine months it will be Christmas
I believe."

"About then." I agreed.

"Lets have a party of our own then!  Maria will be having her baby and
in nine months I can turn your Beth into the most perfect slave you'll
ever see!"

"Sounds good," I said standing, "But right now I need to get some
sleep if I'm driving tomorrow."

About two I felt the gentle pressure as Kitten slid into bed next to
me and snuggled up.  For whatever reason Doc had chosen a good name
for her.  She was soft and warm and cat like and a welcome addition to
my bed.


....................................................................................................

I was so caught up in events that at first I didn't even notice them.
I suppose we've all seen hitchers from time to time, huddled by the
side of the road waving those pathetic little signs.  They look at you
with such hope as you approach that it's almost impossible to drive
away without feeling a complete heel.  I mean, today I was working
driving Doc's cargo down to New York in his big black limo.  I'm
simply not allowed to stop, but somehow today I wanted to make an
exception so I pulled over.  The first girl was blonde bungled up
against the cold in a huge green raincoat she ran up along side.

"Going to New York mister?" She asked hopefully.

"Yes," I said, " But I can't give you a lift.  My boss is asleep in
back and he wont pick up hitchers."

 By now her brunette friend had wondered up.

I pointed back the way I came.  "If you go back there you'll find a
big truck stop.  It's dry and it's warm and you stand a better chance
of a lift that waiting here."

"Back there?" The brunette asked.

"'Bout a quarter mile."  I reached over and handed her a C note, "This
will buy you dinner while you wait."

"Thanks mister!" They said in unison.

"Shush," I whispered, "If he wakes up I could loose my job."

They looked at me conspiratorially.

"Do you girls have a place to stay when you get there?"

"Oh yes, we have a friend there already," the blonde said.  She wasn't
a very good liar.

"While you're eating dinner do a little rethinking," I said, "A lot of
places won't allow extra tenants and your *friend* may not be able to
let you stay.  New York is a bad place to live on the streets."

The brunette smiled politely, "Thanks mister but we'll be ok, honest."

I pulled away feeling perhaps a little better then the blonde called
out.

"Thanks mister! See you in New York!" 

I winced, for her sake I hoped not.

I quickly lowered the tinted partition and looked into the back.  JoJo
sat in her strange fetish outfit hands cuffed behind her back and one
of Doc's gags strapped in her mouth.  She sat passively looking
through the tinted window.  Next to her Myra was similarly bound and
was also sitting quietly.  I'd just given her the will suppresser in
advance of her big night and I could already see the light dimming in
her eyes.  I noticed a stray tear as it trickled down her cheek.  Hum
better fix that before her big entrance.  Still there would be time
later.

I smiled, "Just a couple of hitch hikers ladies nothing to worry
about."