48 Hours on Blue Bayou Pt. 42

"After a few minutes, one of the men raised his voice saying something in Arabic, and we all took seats on the divans. An inner door opened and a file of feminine figures entered, clad in enveloping black robes, escorted by several men. The Master of Ceremonies, as I had privately named him, made a short speech. One of the figures was brought forward. My host whispered to me, 'This is a sale of slaves, watch.' The escort pulled off her veil and hood revealing an African face of high cheekbones and aquiline nose, indicating a probable Somali origin. Next, a catch in her robe was undone and the garment pulled away. She was naked beneath. She stood looking straight ahead; her figure was slim, long-limbed with small pointed breasts and prominent hip bones. Her skin colour was mid-brown and her mons had been shaved, revealing her sex as a neat fold with just a hint of pink. The Master of Ceremonies took up a small tag attached to her wrist by a bracelet and read off some information. She was made to turn about and walk a few paces.

"My friend informed me sotto voce that she was Somali, nineteen years old, a virgin and circumcised, and that the interested buyers would now examine her.

"Nine or ten of the spectators crowded around, feeling her breasts and buttocks, raising her arms and legs presumably looking for any evidence of stiffness or fractures, peering at her eyes, ears and mouth for signs of infection. There were two houseboys, with warm towels, for any buyer who wished to test her orifices, washing their hands before and after. The woman accepted these intrusive intimacies with apparent equanimity, only seeming upset when her anus was probed. A few asked her questions which she answered softly, though whether they enquired of her sexual or housekeeping skills, I had no clue.

"When the examinations were finished, she was allowed to retire to the back of the room, but not to cover herself. She sat cross-legged on her robe staring at her feet. The same procedure was followed with the other seven women who had been prepared in the same fashion. There were two more Somalis, two Ethiopians, and three Indian, or perhaps Sri Lankan or Pakistani women.

"When all had been carefully scrutinised, the first woman was brought back to stand before the buyers as they considered their bids which were written down and placed in an ornate silver bowl brought round by one of the houseboys. There were to be three rounds of bidding, with the Master of Ceremonies announcing the highest bid for the first two rounds. Any subsequent bid had to be higher than this. The third round was final, to encourage the buyers to make their best effort.

"When the successful bidder was announced, the girl was quickly swathed in her robe, the winning bid slip was stapled to her tag, and she was led away. The final sale price was not disclosed but all of the women were sold for upwards of twenty or twenty-five thousand dollars. When the sales were finished, strong Turkish-style coffee was served. Most of the buyers had gone, and I glanced quizzically at my host. He murmured that there was another round of sales to come. 'These African and Indian girls are relatively easy to come by, and relatively inexpensive. The real demand is for lighter skinned girls, Syrians, North Africans, Far East Asians, Europeans if possible.'"

Hari said, "I believe there are many Indian girls enslaved today. But do go on."

"When the sale recommenced, the procedure was the same, but the atmosphere was both quieter and yet more intense. The first lot was brought out and stripped. I could see that her skin was quite pale olive and her hair mid brown. To me she seemed European, but she was described as Syrian. My friend said she was probably Kurdish, most likely of the Yazidi minority. She was submissive and compliant, as though she had been a slave for some time. All of the remaining buyers moved to examine her, including my friend and myself. I did not touch her though, feeling a little squeamish by now at such casual dealing with a young girl."

"The second lot was very similar, though larger breasted and slightly darker, but the third girl was quite a different matter. I could tell her reluctance from her stiff manner of walking as she was brought forward. When her robe was removed, she was quite plainly from more northerly regions. Her skin was very pale and her hair was blonde. Though she had obviously been kept indoors and covered for some time, there were the faint remains of tan lines about her breasts and hips."

"So, she was truly European," said Hari.

"Yes. She was described as Russian or Ukrainian."

"Was this when you acquired your first slave?"

"Oh, no! In fact, I was quite disturbed by the whole process. At that time, I had no idea of the whole International Slave trade. I supposed such things to be consigned to history. I have to admit I was also aroused by the thought of owning a slavegirl, but I realised I had nowhere secure to keep a slave. I lived in a pretty ordinary apartment in Kowloon in those days, the prices were more than I felt I could afford, and primarily, I was only present unofficially as a guest of my friend.

"However, a few years and a few failed relationships later, I contacted my Yemeni friend again, and he introduced me to Masters Inc, the high end of the slavery business. Actually, they do not exist, and if they did, you can only access them by invitation. I was recommended by my friend, yet still they checked me out thoroughly. They regard themselves as the royalty of slave owners, and they offered much useful advice on security, housing and training of slaves. A man, whose name I never knew, came to inspect the facilities I had developed.

"At last, I was invited to an auction, to be held in Alexandria. I purchased three slaves. And so it began."

A silence fell, as Martin renewed their glasses. At last, Hari spoke again, "What did your partners, Edward and Charles, think of these developments?"

Martin chuckled, "At first they thought I was crazy, but the idea was not so foreign. Slavery existed in China until 1949, and in various forms, right through the revolution. Those in powerful positions have always had access to slaves."

Hari was thoughtful, "There are quite a few slaves here, and most of them seem to work at normal jobs. Is there a market for office worker slaves?"

Martin grinned, "Not really, they were mostly all bought for sex slaves, but if I found they didn't really please me, or couldn't fit into our system, there seemed to be only two options: to sell them or to free them. The second was not really an option except for a very few, and I was reluctant to take the first, knowing that they would most probably end up in worse positions, so I decided to give them jobs."

They finished up their drinks in silence.

"And now," said Martin, glancing at his watch, "I have another appointment to keep."

They left the office together and headed for the lifts, but Hari did not see the wink that Martin directed at Julie who was manning the desk.

Chapter 113: Surprises

The lift stopped to let Hari out at the level of his apartment, and Martin continued down. As he turned the corner of the corridor, Hari was surprised to see Niamh squatting beside his door. She jumped up as she saw him.

"Well, well, this is a surprise. You're looking particularly stunning tonight, but I thought you had an appointment this evening!"

"I do, Master Hari, but that's not until later. I wanted to say a final 'goodbye' and..." Her voice tailed off.

Hari took her in his arms and squeezed. "There was an 'and'?"

"Master, you remember the time, when I first came to work for you, you took me for lunch in the Senior Managers dining room?"

"Yes, indeed I do."

"Please Master, would you take me there, once more? For the memory? I can't go on my own."

It seemed a strange request, and Hari had been expecting a quiet evening, but he was generally complacent, and, fuelled by two, or possibly more, whiskeys, he said, "Why not? Come on."

He took Niamh by the hand and headed back to the lift, as she followed just half a step behind him.

"Come and take my arm," he said.

She moved up beside him and slipped her arm through his, just as she had on the Avenue of Stars, some months ago.

As they arrived at the doors to the dining room. Hari could see that the lights were dimmed, and there were a number of people seated at tables. This was all perfectly normal, so he did not hesitate to enter as Niamh held the door for him. As soon as he stepped inside, the lights came up, and the supposed diners leapt to their feet, and a great cry of "SURPRISE" rang out, with other people crowding in from hidden corners.

Hari's jaw dropped about a mile, then he started to laugh. Many of the faces he knew came towards him smiling and laughing and wishing him All the Best! in his new position. He turned to Niamh with a broad grin. "You certainly fooled me, Niamh, with your 'once more for the memory.' I'm sure you deserve a severe correction for such deceitfulness!"

Martin added, "Not only that, but this whole affair was Niamh's idea. However, I am going to cancel any corrections because Niamh was only thinking about and working for our greater pleasure, and because she was ordered to entice you down here." Niamh looked relieved, even though she didn't really think Master Hari would order a correction. It seemed like everyone was there: Martin, Edward, Charles, Igor, Pat, Anne, Julie and Niamh, of course. Jane and the Marketing team, James from Distribution and Kurt from Engineering and their teams, Twelve from Accounting, who helped Hari sort out his expenses, Sue Li, who took dictation and typed up his notes. And many more.

Martin called for quiet and made a short speech, praising Hari and noting the large group of people he had impressed with his determination no less than his efficiency and open friendliness. Lastly he said, "No one enjoys a party more than me, so we have drinks for all and Chef, as always, has rustled up some really delicious snacks and nibbles. So, let the party begin!"

Great trays of delicacies were wheeled in by kitchen staff, overseen by One. Niamh was surprised to see her, and it was obvious, from the way she was fussing, that most of the food was of her invention. Niamh went over to give her big hug. Chef came up and hugged them both. "My beautiful One has a natural talent with food. I am teaching her all my knowledge," he said.

Martin had decreed informality for the occasion, so that all the guests could mingle on an equal basis. He and the senior executives made a point of speaking to everyone present, even if only a few words. Niamh and Julie, between them, knew almost everybody at the party. They too, circulated among the guests, making sure they spoke to all the slaves to make them feel at ease, and introduced themselves to all those they hadn't met before.

Niamh was impressed that Martin knew who everyone was, what they did, and how they were progressing. She could see clearly that he took his responsibilities as employer and owner equally seriously. She also noticed two more events that made her ponder: Sally spent most of her time with Chef, and Igor was often to be seen chatting with Julie. Niamh was scheduled to pleasure her Owner this night, so all the time she kept one eye out for his signal.

After about an hour and a half, when a few people had begun to drift off, Niamh was chatting with James when Martin came up beside her. Niamh beamed her most radiant smile as Martin said a few gracious words and took her by the arm presenting no question of where to walk. She dropped a small curtsey to James and slipped off, on the arm of her Owner, head held high.

Chapter 114: Service with a Smile

Earlier, as Niamh finished the last of the packing for Hari, there had been no time to waste. She had hastened upstairs, to be met by Fifteen, who bundled her into the shower.

"I thought I might have to come and drag you away." she said.

"I know. I was looking forward to a really long shower, but I guess it will have to be a 'duck' shower."

Fifteen looked confused.

"You know, duck in and duck out again!"

Fifteen giggled, but pushed Niamh into the bathroom. "I've put out a new razor, if you need it, and just yell if you want help."

"Ta," said Niamh, as she set the shower to her favourite temperature and pressure, and stripped off her office wear. Fifteen caught Niamh's clothes as she tossed them off, and took them back to the bedroom.

Niamh was soon soaped up, paying extra attention to her vulva and groin, which she hoped would be the arena for later action, and some to her anus, which she hoped wouldn't. She grabbed the razor and touched up her underarms, that spot on her mons, where the hair seemed to grow quicker than elsewhere, and the margins of her labia. She called out to Fifteen to check her butt, which passed inspection. A quick shampoo and rinse and she was out, grabbing a towel for her mop of hair, while Fifteen dried off her body. A quick dab of subtly scented body butter and she emerged from the bathroom.

Laid out on the bed was a lacy black bra and panty set and svelte cocktail dress, electric blue, with decorative peonies falling off the shoulder and cascading over the bodice down to approximately where her own "fragrant peony flower" would be concealed. Niamh let out a little squeal and grabbed the dress, holding it against herself as she pranced in front of the mirror.

"It's so gorgeous!"

"Well, let's get you into it," said Fifteen.

The underwear was simple, but the dress was snugly fitting, with a long slit up the right leg, like a Cheongsam, but with a scoop neckline, rather than the traditional high neckline. A pair of sandals, the same orange-red colour as her hair, completed the ensemble.

"I must have my torc collar," said Niamh. Now that her collar was optional, she kept it in a jewel case beside her bed. Fifteen helped her snap it in place.

"I must run if I'm to be in place to ensnare Master Hari," she said, and, giving Fifteen a kiss on the cheek, she strode off to the lifts. As she descended, Niamh reflected on her life. I have friends, a profession, a luxurious apartment, a maid! — well, not all the time — I have a personal trainer, Michelin star meals — most of the time — beautiful clothes, a sex life. Yet, I am a slave. I have everything but choice. She shrugged. How many people do have choices anyway?

Now, as she ascended once more, on Martin's arm, she wondered, Do I have a Lover?

Martin was also preoccupied. For the first time in many years, he felt conflicted over how to proceed. His slave would obey, of course, but hadn't she seemed pleased, eager even, to have been called to him?

He had not chosen Niamh, as he had chosen Julie, assessing her qualities, under stress, in just a few minutes. Julie had been a success, but her journey had been bumpy. Now it seemed evident that her desires drew her to Igor.

Niamh, on the other hand had come almost by accident. He recalled how he had been annoyed at the Recruitment team for picking her up because she was relatively cheap. Slotted in at the bottom of the slave hierarchy, she was spirited, even rebellious, but she had fought to have her qualities recognised and she had adapted well to her situation and the tasks she had been given.

It seems that she desires me, he thought, the question is, how do I feel about her?

They reached the door to Martin's private apartment. Martin opened the door and ushered Niamh in.

She hesitated for a split second; that couldn't be right, the Master should go first, the slave after. But she sensed a subtle change of mood, which had begun when Master Martin held her hand in the lift. She entered the apartment, and turned towards her Master, not kneeling or casting her eyes down, but scanning his face for clues. She could not find any. His smile was as normal and it pierced her to the core, but she could not read him.

Martin came to her and put his arms around her. She put her hands on his chest. They stood so, for a long moment.

"Am I confusing you?" he asked.

"Master, I don't know what to do."

"What would you like to do?"

"I'd like to kiss you."

He bent his head down and Niamh reached up on her toes and put her arms around his neck. Their lips met and Niamh opened her mouth, but Martin did not immediately push his tongue into her mouth, simply maintaining a constant pressure. Finally, he did run his tongue gently over her teeth and the roof of her mouth. It was as if it was the first time he had kissed her. With a shock, she realised it was the first time he had kissed her.

Though Niamh would have been happy for the moment to last an eternity, a man like Martin is always thinking two or three moves ahead. Now he knew exactly what he would say, Martin relaxed his grip a little and began to stroke her back. Niamh knew that it was time to disengage their lips.

"More later." he said. "I want to put our relationship on a new footing. Outside this apartment, I will be Master and you will be slave, but within, we will be a man and a woman, Martin and Niamh. What do you think?"

Niamh's brow creased just a little, she said, "Ever since the first time you took me sailing, I have wanted you, so, of course I agree. But what if I forget myself — out there." She gestured at the wall.

"We all play roles in life," Martin said. "I'm sure you will manage it. I'll try to ease you into it gently."

Niamh smiled and nodded her head. "I should like to kneel down and kiss your feet, but that would be out of character, wouldn't it?"

Martin laughed, he knew that he had handled the situation correctly and reached the outcome he desired.

Niamh said "May I ask you about Sally?"

"Yes, anything goes in here."

"I could see that Dagmar was astounded that you would offer Sally freedom and even more amazed that she refused. I was a bit surprised too. Would you really have freed her?"

"Yes, I really would have freed her, and made her independent; in fact, she is free to go whenever she likes."

"But you made her a permanent slave. You pierced her ear and gave her one of the special earrings"

"You saw how Sally reacted to the offer of freedom. Permanent slavery is a kind of safety net. She may leave at any time, but when she wants to return, I will recall her. I know she wants to find out if she still has any relatives in Tahiti and when she is ready I will help her. Very few slaves take up the offer of freedom unconditionally, after seven years they have few outside contacts, if they ever had any. "

"Ma..." Niamh took a deep breath, "Martin, I do have contacts, I do have a family. May I see them again?"

Martin knew that she had skewered him neatly. "I didn't know, before, how you became a slave, but I ordered some investigations and learned how it happened. Very few women are actually abducted, especially from Western Europe. I will consider the best way for you to see your family soon."

Niamh nodded. She thought, I will do seven years and then we will see, but deep down she knew already that she would make the same choice as Sally.

"Now it is agreed, I can offer you a drink, to seal the deal."

"Shall I make them?"

"No, it will be my pleasure. Champagne?"

"Mmmm. Yes please!"

Martin kept a supply of Champagne splits in his bar fridge, each just enough for two small glasses. He retrieved one, and two flutes. The sudden 'pop' made Niamh jump, then laugh. She hadn't been expecting a real Champagne 'pop.' Her partial emancipation had not yet fully sunken in.

Martin handed Niamh a glass. "Let's sit on the sofa."

She was very happy to plump down on the soft leather that she had once been invited onto as a "pet." They clinked glasses. "To the New Deal," he said.