Descendant of Baccus Pt. 03

Chapter 7: Controlling My Empire

I went to visit my uncle the following day and began to discover the full extent of my empire. Beside the consulting business my father had built there were various other businesses he had inherited or earned an interest in and all were operating profitably. I had accounts in all the places mom mentioned and several others as well so my holdings were widely dispersed. The combined businesses employed over 15,000 people in several countries and dad had left plans for several expansion projects that would nearly double the staff count. The businesses included construction, product manufacturing, a health care network and 2 banks.

I also owned an island that was independent of any country jurisdiction. It was located at the southern end of the chain of islands that make up Indonesia. My grandfather had bought the island from the Indonesian government decades ago and it was currently maintained as a wildlife sanctuary and was generating income through Eco-tourism.

All told, my net worth was in excess of fifty billion dollars. Dad had been drawing a meager salary of $250,000 per year and had left instructions through Uncle Steve to continue paying me that same amount in the event of his death. As a result and given the fact that I was not spending any of it, I had cash in the bank of about $750,000 dollars. This was small change given what I was learning.

Mom had been drawing on a trust dad had set up in the event that he died and I was either dead or incapacitated. Now that I was back on my feet and ready to take the reins that trust would revert to me and I would assume support for my family.

Dad’s primary work was to provide consulting services to all sorts of folks who wanted to learn how to be more successful in their lives. Uncle Steve handed me a note Dad had left that asked me to assume his role. He explained that with our unique talents we could offer advise and guidance that was unparalleled and thought I would find the work as fulfilling as he had. He also explained the fee structure and this helped clarify how we now controlled such a diverse empire. Basically, everyone dad helped provided a financial interest in his or her future. He was paid in equity rather than cash. I knew I wanted to work and this work seemed as good as any at this point. Beside, if dad found it fulfilling I truly expected I would too.

I spent the rest of the day getting settled into dad’s old office; actually, my new office and getting acquainted with several members of the senior staff and our client list. The office was actually two rooms with a private bath. The primary room was more like a comfortable living room with two large leather sofas facing each other and a simple oak and glass coffee table in the center. The floors were set in a herringbone pattern of oak in various shades and a Persian carpet woven in rich shades of red and gold covered the majority of this. The lighting was subdued but sufficient for the space. One wall of the office was a floor-to-ceiling window that was dressed in both a sheer and a heavy set of drapes. The heavy set was done in rich velvet that mirrored the colors of the carpet. In the far corner was a small bar with a couple of leather stools and behind the bar stood a huge tank with fresh-water fish. The overall ambience was one of understated comfort that made me feel immediately at home.

The second room had much the same feel but this was set with a large oak desk as its centerpiece. Again there was a wall of windows while the other three walls were covered by bookshelves that were fully stacked. I took a quick inventory of the books and found that they ran a gamut from casual fiction to business and psychology texts. I had a feeling this collection was going to provide all the education I would require.

I sat behind the desk and tried to get a sense of how dad felt in this position. The clearest image I conjured was a man who was humbled by the power he wielded on a daily basis. Given how destructive power can be it seemed that maintaining a humble disposition was the best defense I could mount and I knew it was a defense I would have to become dedicated to maintaining. I would do my father proud or die trying.

I began rummaging through his desk and found all the typical paraphernalia until I got to the last draw. In this space was a control panel with a touch screen and monitor that made it look like a TV remote control on steroids. I found the power button, pressed it and this compact beast came to life.

It didn’t take long to discover that one of its functions was to monitor the security cameras in several locations around the building. I played a bit until I was satisfied that I had accessed all of the monitoring points before moving on to the other controls.

That’s when I got stuck. I hit a control that was labeled “Access Points” and was prompted for a password. I had no idea what that would be or at least, I didn’t think so. But, then it came to me. I don’t know where it came from but I immediately began entering a series of ten numbers and suddenly the display changed to reveal a series of 4 door shaped icons. I began testing each.

The first opened a panel on the surface of the desk and a computer popped up to fill the space. It was lit with a mirror of the display I was toying with. For the time being, I stuck with the remote.

The second icon opened a panel in the bookshelf behind the desk that was filled with file folders. A quick looks at these revealed that these were clients with very well know names. Each folder had a description of the services dad had provided, recommendations for additional services and most importantly, what form of payment had been promised by each client. Many of these clients had paid with an equity interest in their companies and I recognized most of these as part of the list Uncle Steve had shared. There were a couple not on that list, including a chain of bordellos in Australia and a ranch of some sort in Argentina. I was not yet sure why there were holdings that did not appear on Uncle Steve’s list. I’d have to look into that later. I guess dad kept these secured to guard client privacy. .

The third access point revealed a similar panel, also filled with file folders. I didn’t recognize any of these names so I began going through the first few before I realized these were all women dad was having sex with. Each folder had the woman’s details and a description of her likes and dislikes. Dad had also included notes about what he liked and disliked most about each. I spent quite a while going through these and it proved to be very interesting reading. The most interesting part was a discovery that dad had several slaves. Apparently all had offered themselves freely and each had been willed to another master when he died. In each of these folders was a detailed description of the training he had put them through and, like a report card, each was scored on how well they had learned what was required of them. He had also characterized them by type. There were domestic slaves, office slaves and sex slaves. I also discovered one category labeled toilet slave that was particularly strange. It mainly involved urine; he called it golden showers, and the two women in this category seemed to be among the first he had trained.

He was sexually active with all his slaves but it was the sex slave’s role to please him and others while the remaining slaves where there for his pleasure alone. In the folders of the four sex slaves he included a list of all the folks he had demanded the slave service and each of the serviced individuals had also given the performance a score. When scores were sub-par he listed the various punishments each had endured. I noticed several matches between the list of his clients and the list of those serviced.

I discovered a total of 14 slaves from age 18 to 36. His first slave was taken when he was 20 and the last joined him a year before his death. As I studied these I knew I could and would enslave Savannah and now I was getting some sense of how I would train her and what I would train her for.

The final access point revealed a hidden door in the bookshelf that was situated between the two file panels. This office had much more than I had expected. I entered into a bedroom that was perfectly matched in decor with the lounge. Its focal point was a huge circular bed in the center that was set on a carpeted platform. It appeared that the platform was cushioned so falling off this monster would be more fun than painful.

There were three doors offset in each of the three interior walls. The first led to a large bath done in marble with bronze fittings. It was the first and only space that was ostentatious. It included a toilet and bidet, a glass-enclosed shower stall and a very large whirlpool bath. The marble counter had a pair of matching sinks set into it and a full wall of mirrors backed it.

The second door led to a large closet and dressing area. The racks were filled with suits and the draws were filled with everything else my dad could possibly need. I gave one of his suit jackets a quick try and realized I had grown so that it fit just about perfectly. It was a somewhat unsettling revelation.

The final door led to a chamber that looked like a mirror image of the chamber in Savannah’s basement. The only real difference is it was larger and had a more complex set of mechanisms to bind a person. This was obviously where dad had trained his slaves. Thinking back to the files on his slaves and the training he put them through I began examining the equipment and imagining how it was and would be used. I was getting hard as I began to picture Savannah bound and being whipped. I was definitely going to have fun here.

I left this space and returned to the desk. There would be plenty of time to fully explore this private space. For now, I needed to focus on the business and how I was going to assume the reins. I found everything I needed to know on the computer and it was nearly 10 at night when I finally looked up and realized I was starving.

I grabbed some things I wanted to review at home and left the office only to find a young, smarty dressed, secretary sitting at the desk outside my door.

“Good evening Mr. Marcus.” She was eerily cheerful for this time of night. “My name is Rachel Anderson and I have been assigned as your secretary until you can find someone more to your liking.”

I liked what I saw so far. She had red hair the color of a rich burgundy that was cut neatly across her shoulders and brushed back from her forehead. Her eyes were honey colored and seemed almost Asian in shape. Her breasts were not particularly large but they did seem to fill her blouse nicely. If the lower half was in tune with the upper half she was a fine specimen of a woman.

“How long have you been here Rachel?” I suspected she was sitting here since shortly after I had entered late that morning.

“I arrived at 10 this morning. I was told not to disturb you and also to be sure no one else disturbed you.” She seemed almost apologetic for having spent the day basically idle.

“What are your normal working hours?” Since she was here at this hour I suspected she had no set schedule.

“My hours are flexible. I will be here whenever you are.”

I suddenly wondered if this might have been one of the office slaves dad had trained but I didn’t remember seeing her name in any of the files. She also looked a bit young given the fact that dad was gone 3 years now. I decided I didn’t need to get home just yet.

“Come into the office and let’s talk a bit.” I turned and led the way.

I sat on the couch and motioned her to join me. She sat demurely at my side with her legs held closed and her hands resting on her lap. She had set herself at the edge of the couch with her back held perfectly straight. There was something about the overall image that just screamed, “I’m submissive”. I liked it.

“How old are you?”

“I’m 20 years old sir.”

“And, how long have you worked here?”

“I started last week as your personal secretary. I’ve been told the position may be temporary.” She was transmitting a clear hope that it wouldn’t be.

“And what did they say you would be doing as my personal secretary?” I purposely emphasized personal trying to gauge how she would respond.

“I will do anything you ask. I’ve been told that my job is to insure you have everything you need or want and to help manage your office. I’ll need you to tell me how best to do that.”

I was looking beyond her words and knew she really meant what she was saying and fully expected me to use her completely. In fact, she was hoping I would use her completely. I also discovered an interesting fact. Her mother had been dad’s secretary and one of his office slaves. Now I remembered the family name. Her mom was one of the more difficult training cases.

“I believe I can do the job well once I have a better understanding of what you will require. I just completed my bachelor’s degree at Tennessee State with majors in business management and financial accounting. I graduated at the top of my class with a lot of hard work. I am prepared to sit for my accounting exams if you wish me to and I will work just as hard for you.”

This all sounded real good to me.

“We’ll let’s start with a simple task. I’m starving and I’m guessing you are too. Go to the kitchen and fix us a few sandwiches and a salad.” I waited for the right response.

“What type of sandwich would you like Sir.”

That was the right response.

“Anything will do.”

She left quickly and I settled back into a daydream of how I was going to use her once my belly was satisfied. It didn’t take long for her to return and I was hard when she did.

She had made a selection of sandwiches with various cold cuts and tuna. She also made the salad I asked for and had brought a number of dressings along since she was uncertain what my tastes would be.

I grabbed a few cokes from the bar and invited her to dig in with me. She ate like a bird while I devoured 2 sandwiches and a large helping of salad. By the time I was done she had managed to consume half a tuna sandwich and a small helping of the salad, which she ate with no dressing. I later learned she was weight conscious and was always careful about what and how much she ate. I liked that about her.

Now that I’d satisfied my belly I was ready to focus on my more primal urges. I had been probing her mind throughout the meal and I learned that she wanted to be taken. She could be embarrassed but she would work through the embarrassment to answer any question or perform any act I required. I decided to test her limits.

“Clear this up and come back quickly.” It was a clear demand that she immediately responded to with a simple “Yes Sir”. Everything was back on the tray and she was out of the office in an instant and only a few minutes before she returned. She stopped short of the couch waiting for my next command.

“I am going to ask you a series of questions that will help determine if I keep you on or not. You are to answer them completely and with total honesty. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir, I do.” was her simple and calmly stated response.

“Are you aware that your mother was one of my father’s slaves?” I wanted to hit her hard right from the start.

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes Sir, I am. She told me when I turned 18 and your father had already passed away. She was very happy with him and her role.”

“Are you aware of the training she endured to achieve that position?” I wondered how much she really knew and how much she was willing to relate.

“She described her training as very demanding and often involving both mental and physical punishment until she had learned what was required of her.” There wasn’t much detail there but the answer was delivered in a forthright manner.

I probed and found that she knew more detail than she was sharing.

“You have just taken a step closer to being replaced. I want complete and honest answers or this is all just a waste of time. Now once again, did your mom make you aware of the type of training she endured?” My tone left no doubt about my dissatisfaction and her thoughts registered this fact with absolute clarity.

“I’m sorry sir. She described being punished in a number of ways. She explained that she was often bound and beaten with various implements. She described the beatings as being almost as painful as giving birth. She was also made to beg for forgiveness and was treated like a dog when your father decided it was necessary. She explained that she was often to willful for her own good and your father had to spend a great deal of time breaking her of that will. He required her to service his sexual desires and she was also beaten on a number of occasions when she failed to perform adequately. She did describe one particular instance when she was required to service him orally but chocked and vomited when his penis entered her throat. She was made to lick the mess clean. I believe that happened here in this office. On one other occasion a client complained that she was disrespectful to him during a phone call. In this case, she was bound to some sort of rack and whipped by your father and then by the offended client. Those are the stories I remember. I’m sorry but I may have forgotten others.”

She had shared all that she remembered.

“That’s better. Now tell me, how did she describe how she felt about her role?”

“She always said she was never more happy than she was once she finally learned how to be a proper slave. She described it as liberating which seemed a little odd to me. What she described was a feeling of freedom that came from knowing all she had to do was make your father happy and everything else in her life would take care of itself. I’ve studied quite a bit on this subject and I think I now understand what she felt. I guess it can be liberating when all of life’s little problems are boiled down to a single requirement; satisfy your master and you will achieve satisfaction.”

She really meant what she had said and a more in depth probe revealed what I had suspected. Her studies had convinced her that she wanted to be mastered and was hoping I would master her. I wanted to hear her say it.

“I want a simple yes or no answer to these next questions and you had better answer without hesitation if I’m to believe you.” I paused for effect. “Do you want to be my slave?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation at all.

“Are you prepared to undergo the necessary training?”

“Yes.”

“Are you prepared to be owned by me?”

“Yes, I am.” She realized her error immediately and gasped.

“I said yes or no. What part of that did you not understand?”

She hung her head and said, “I sorry. I just wanted to be clear.”

“You were perfectly clear. Now yes or no, are you prepared to be owned by me?”

“Yes.”

“And are you prepared to undergo the necessary training?”

“Yes.”

“Do you understand that once I agree to accept you as my slave there will be no turning back? I will own you and there will be no chance of escaping my ownership.”

“Yes.”

“Be careful now. I want you to be sure you understand what I’m saying. Your life will be mine. You will do nothing without my permission. You will go nowhere without my permission. You will have neither lovers nor friends unless I provide them. You will be mine to do with as I please 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. If you say yes that’s the end of your life, as you know it. I will redefine your life to suit my needs. Now, is this what you want?”

“Yes.” This response was as emphatic as the others but there was a certain tone of resignation in her voice that made me wonder. Was this really what she wanted or just what she thought she wanted? It was time for a test and she had earned her first punishment with her earlier lapse.