Repo'd Ch. 01-06

"You think so?" I questioned as I looked at Nicky incredulously. "What do you mean by you think so?"

"I'm still working out all the details but I've made some arrangements in the last few days just in case."

"What type of arrangements?"

"I'll let you know more once I get them all firmed up," Nicky said.

Nicky got out her phone and called her boyfriend/boy-toy Kurt and arranged a meeting that afternoon. Nicky liked the bad boys and Kurt was bad boy if there ever was one. He was always without a job but never without money, sometimes gone for weeks at a time for no apparent reason, often carried a pistol, never with an explanation, and he associated with a lot of shady individuals. Kurt had a mysterious past and a dangerous present. Devastatingly handsome with keen sense of humor, smooth talking, and wickedly enchanting eyes, Kurt Talbert wasn't the type of man you took to your mother; he was the type of man you took to your bed.

Kurt loved Nicky and really knew how to treat her right. When Nicky was with him, he was a dream. Unfortunately, the problem with Kurt wasn't while Nicky was with him; the difficulties in the relationship was occurred when she wasn't around. Kurt had problems keeping his affections limited to just one woman, even Nicky. It's what caused the relationship between the two to be on again, off again. Half the time she was curled up next to him naked in his bed and half the time she wasn't speaking to him at all. Nevertheless, despite his philandering, Kurt was like a drug for Nicky; he was utterly intoxicating; an enchanting addiction that she couldn't quite completely kick.

When Kurt came in the office and saw us in collars he was devastated. Nicky tried to kiss him but Kurt became emotional and refused, wanting instead to know what happened and how he could help. Nicky asked Kurt for a loan. Although he emptied out his wallet and offered everything he had, Kurt didn't have nearly enough. Kurt liked the good life and spent money liberally on women. As a result, money had difficulty staying in Kurt's wallet for long. As they hugged and began to cry, I gave Nicky and Kurt space and went back to my own office.

Half an hour later, I heard Nicky's office door open again as she was escorting Kurt out. Stopping just outside our office in the hall, I caught a glimpse of Nicky giving Kurt a kiss. Nicky could kiss a man with a passion like no woman I'd ever seen and she tightened Kurt's pants with one of the steamiest embraces imaginable.

"What's going on?" Lori asked me.

"It looks like Kurt might get lucky tonight."

"I can see that," Lori said, agitated by my answer. "I'm talking about Ultra. What are you going to do if you don't get the loan from Attila in time?"

"I don't know," I said to Lori. "I'm leaving that up to Nicky."

I wouldn't have trusted Lori with the details of our plan even if I knew what the details were. All that I was sure of was that Nicky had a plan and that Kurt was part of it. When it came to secrets, no one was better than Nicky. She even treated me on a need to know basis. Nicky would tell me only what I needed to know and nothing more. I didn't like being kept in the dark but it was just the way Nicky operated.

Although Nicky and I laid beside each other in bed that night in our one room apartment, sleep didn't come easily and we spent the night talking, mostly of the good times we'd had together. Every half hour or so I'd check the window to see if the slavers had left but the gray van was always there. Usually, Mr. Davis was scanning the premises with night vision binoculars while Mr. Rodrigues was studying a laptop. Finally the tension got to me.

"Let's just get dressed and make a break for it right now," I said. "Those guys must be near twice our weight and twenty years older. They can't possibly be faster than we are. Let's just run for it."

"We can't run tonight," Nicky said. "If we leave this place in the middle of the night the slavers will be all over us and the streets will be empty. They'll be no way to lose them in traffic. There's nothing open and nowhere to go. And besides, if we don't get rid of these collars, they can track us. It'd be like wearing a cowbell around our necks."

"I guess you're right but this waiting is killing me."

"Any window of opportunity we have will be losing them in the morning rush hour traffic. Anyway, I don't have everything in place yet."

The fact that Nicky didn't have everything in place didn't make me feel good but I knew she would want to talk about it so I said nothing. All that I could hope for is that the missing parts of our escape plan were minor details which could be easily remedied in the morning otherwise we'd probably be in shackles before breakfast.

Dressed for bed, I wore only a t-shirt and panties while Nicky wore only wore a man's shirt, one of Kurt's, and a pair of Kurt's boxer shorts. Nervous and in serious need of some affection, we snuggled together and held each other, the anxiety causing an intimacy between us that we'd never known before. We confessed to each other our innermost secrets and fears and we told each other things that we'd never confessed to anyone before.

Then it happened. Carelessly, in a moment of weakness, I kissed Nicky. I didn't mean to, it just occurred. I don't know how I fell in love with Nicky; I don't know why I fell in love with my best friend; I don't even know when my feelings changed for her. All I know is when I first noticed that my attraction with Nicky as a friend turned into both a romantic and sexual infatuation.

It was during a heat wave last summer, the air conditioning broke, and we didn't have money to fix it. We shared a double bed in our tiny apartment and, in the stifling heat, we started sleeping in just our panties. One night awoke and stared at Nicky sleeping, sweaty and nearly naked. She was stunning, absolutely irresistible, both mentally and physically, and I was overcome with a longing to cuddle up against her gorgeous body and never let it go. I wanted her emotionally, physically, and even sexually. At that moment, I realized I craved her not only as my friend but as my lover and that I was completely obsessed with her.

I wanted to slide my head between her legs, tickle her sex with my tongue, and pleasure her as no woman has ever been pleasured before. I wanted to spoon up against her, hold her in my arms, cup her breast in my hand and hold her as if I would never let her go. And I wanted to kiss her, the way she kissed Kurt, the way lovers kiss. I wanted her mind, body, and soul. I wanted her so bad it was like a fire burning inside me, a thirst that only she could quench. But did she want me back? If I confessed my love for her, it could, and probably would, scare Nicky away.

The thought frightened me and I tried to suppress my feelings for Nicky. It was too risky. Although Nicky, knew that I was bi, it never seemed to bother her. She didn't mind dressing around me or sharing a bed. But, Nicky had always been exclusively heterosexual and I had no reason to believe that she'd be receptive to my advances. If she found out that I had a romantic interest in her, particularly an obsession, it could ruin our friendship forever, and I couldn't bear that. So I did my best to hide my desires and stick to being just her best friend.

I knew my lust for her was wrong and wished it weren't so but I couldn't help it. I had been delighted having Nicky only as a friend and that friendship was the most important thing in the world for me. I knew all too well that my obsession for her threatened it and I tried in every way I could to banish any sexual or romantic passion I had for Nicky but it was no use. I was in love.

Living with the love of my life in a small one room apartment and sleeping with Nicky in the same bed but all the while keeping my love for her a secret was hard. I tried not to look at her when she was naked or underdressed, least she see the lust in my eyes. I tried not to listen when she flirted with Kurt, least she see my envy. I tried not to stray too close to her in bed, least I touch her or snuggle against her. It was like being famished at an all you can eat buffet of the most delicious food in the world and feigning indifference. It was enough to drive me crazy at times and yet I wouldn't live anywhere else for any amount of money.

But, in a moment of weakness, distracted by the fear of our impending slavery and by the possibility of losing Nicky forever, craving some physical affection, and emotionally distraught, I let down my guard, forgot what I was doing, and kissed her. Terrified, I stammered to explain but couldn't come up with any words. Of all times, I couldn't afford to lose Nicky tonight.

"I, I, I'm sorry," I stammered. "I didn't mean to. It was an accident. I'm so sorry."

Nicky wasn't upset; she wasn't repulsed; she didn't even seem at all surprised; she seemed as if she knew. Nicky just gave me a quick kiss back to soothe me, stroked my hair, cuddled up against me, held me, and wiped the tears from my eyes.

"It's alright," she said in her calmest of voices but I cried anyway.

"I don't want to lose you," I said.

"I'm not going anywhere without you," Nicky said and she hugged me tight. "You're way too important to me. We're going to get through this together."

We held each for another hour, mostly in silence, before sometime in the night, exhaustion overtook me, and I fell asleep.

Chapter 4 – Renegades

When the alarm clock rang at 6:00 am on Wednesday May 14, 2031, Nicky was already gone and I found a note taped to the clock.

"Sorry to leave early but I had to take care of a couple more details this morning. Meet me at the fire hydrant in front of the coffee shop at 7:25 sharp. Don't be even a second late. Dress for action; we'll be moving fast. Leave your phone, your wallet, and your purse at home but bring all the cash you've got. Don't look around or act like anything's up – just act natural and follow my lead. Flush this note after reading. Love, Nicky"

I had a bad feeling about this, really bad. If it went wrong, we'd be totally screwed and we could end up spending the next six years of our lives as sex slaves in a godforsaken foreign brothel. A few days ago, I didn't even believe that it was possible that I'd end up as a whore but, if Nicky's plan didn't work, in a couple of days, I could be laying on a bed somewhere on another continent with my legs spread and as guy after guy pounds away on me.

The more I thought about the possibility of becoming a slave, the more it frightened me to the point I had difficulty thinking straight, I flushed the note, fixed my hair, applied my makeup, and dressed in my favorite outfit, a navy blue skirt suit with matching pumps and some designer lingerie. If there was even a possibility that I was going to be stripped, shackled, and enslaved today, I wanted to be sure that I was wearing clean, decent looking, underwear so I picked out my undies carefully. I only had $63.00, no one carried much cash anymore, but I did as instructed and stuffed it into a pocket of my blazer.

We only lived a couple of blocks from the office, within easy walking distance. So I left the apartment at 6:45 and took my time. I didn't want to be too early and just hang around a fire hydrant. It would look suspicious.

As I walked down the street, I noticed a plumbing contracting crew fixing a broken water main at an apartment building. The two older men sat on a back hoe and seemed to enjoy watching a young slave work. The boy was thigh deep in a ditch filled with muddy water shoveling out clay and gravel. The slave was maybe 23, athletic, attractive, and completely naked except for gloves on his hands and his slave collar. Covered in mud, the young man was breathing heavily and looked exhausted. From the looks of his manhood, the water was cold but the older men were in no hurry to relieve him. The older plumbers just watched him shovel and smiled.

I didn't know why the slave was naked. Maybe he was forced to work nude by a perverted gay master or maybe it was the slave's decision to strip as he preferred to work in the muddy ditch without clothes. What I knew for sure was that, if the next half hour didn't work out right, tomorrow, I could be standing naked in that ditch with my muddy twat and ass on display, breathing heavily, and working my ass off digging out a broken water line with a shovel while a couple of old men got their jollies by watching me work.

On a different day, I'd have called to the slave, waved at him, told him he looked really cute, asked him his name, and smiled at him just to make the boy feel better. But today wasn't that day. Today I was too nervous to flirt, too embarrassed by my slave collar, and in too much of hurry.

Even with traffic, I arrived at a couple of minutes past seven. Ducking in a coffee shop on the first floor of our office building (our office was on the second floor), I spent a few dollars of my cash on a large Italian Roast. I liked coffee and needed an excuse just to stand by a fire hydrant and do nothing without raising suspicion. Walking outside to the fire hydrant, I opened the lid and blew on the coffee to let it cool.

Trembling in fear, I looked back at the clock in the coffee shop, 7:18; whatever was going to happen would go down in just seven minutes and its success or failure would determine whether I spent the next six years of my life as a free woman or as a slave, as a business owner or as a whore, as a person or as property, in tailored clothes or naked, wearing jewelry or wearing shackles, on the sidewalk or in the ditch. My fate hung in the balance.

There was a small motorcycle parked against the fire hydrant, the type some of the couriers used for deliveries. Stenciled on a storage box hanging off the back was the words Lanny's Pizza and Deli. It wasn't unusual. Couriers and delivery boys often parked their motorcycles there when they were getting a cup of coffee.

I leaned against the motorcycle seat and I blew on the coffee a few times before testing the temperature of the drink with my lips. The delivery boys never took offense to a pretty woman leaning on their bike and I didn't have anywhere else to sit. It was still a little too hot but I enjoyed hot cup of coffee and gingerly took a tiny sip anyway. It might be another six years before I got to taste coffee again again so I savored every drop. Slaves didn't eat or drink whatever they wanted, they ate or drank whatever they were provided, usually low cost, bland, unseasoned, and tasteless. Luxuries, such as coffee, were rare.

I desperately wanted to look around but thought better of it. Still, I could help one quick glance and it scared the crap out of me. Only half a block away, maybe 70 yards, there was the gray van with Mr. Davis and Mr. Rodriguez in it looking right at me. They looked suspicious, really suspicious. Frightened, I took another couple of sips of my precious coffee and tried to settle my nerves. I just wished Nicky had let me know a little more about her plan but she tended to micro-manage when we were in trouble. I didn't know if that was just her style or if she didn't trust me.

Someone moving fast came up from behind me, grabbed my arm roughly, and pulled me forward. It was Nicky.

"Lose the coffee," Nicky said sternly and I tossed it aside just as a cab came to a stop in front of the hydrant. Quickly, Nicky opened the door to the cab and pushed me it. There was already a passenger in the back seat, a twenty-something young man, pulling a huge bolt cutter out from under his sweatshirt as I got in. I recognized the guy, he was a friend of Kurt's. As the cabbie glanced back he saw my collar and did a double take. Then, his eyes flew open in panic and his jaw dropped as he saw the bolt cutters.

"Oh my God! No, no, no, stop that. You can't do that here," the terrified cabbie shouted.

Everyone knew that aiding and abetting an escaping slave in any way was a felony that carried a minimum two year category II enslavement. It was the type of thing that could cause the cabbie to spend the next two or three years of his life bent over in a gay bordello in Africa or ankle deep in mud planting rice in Asia.

The Kurt's friend shoved one of the blades of his tool under my collar and jammed the handles together as hard as he could. CHUNK! My collar fell in the floor; there was no turning back, now I was a renegade. Frantically, I looked back at the gray van. Mr. Davis and Mr. Rodriguez were already out of the van, dodging traffic, and running towards us as fast as they could.

"Ahhh," I shrieked, "They're coming."

CHUNK! Nicky's collar landed in my lap. Kurt's friend threw the car door open, scrambled out, flung the tool aside, and ran like hell while Nicky dragged me out of the car. I glanced back that the slavers; they were only 30 yards away and running right at us as fast as they could. The cabbie jumped out of the car and threw his hands up in the air in surrender.

"I had nothing to do with it," the cabbie cried out.

Nicky grabbed the motorcycle and tore the Lanny's Pizza box on the back off. Obviously just a ruse to camouflage the bike, apparently the phony pizza storage box had been only lightly attached to begin with.

"Get on," Nicky shouted as she kick started the bike. Hiking up my skirt up all the way to my panties, I threw my leg over the seat and hung on to Nicky for dear life. With the back tire squealing and smoking, we took off so fast I nearly lost a shoe. With traffic heavy, Nicky tore off down the sidewalk forcing people to dive out of the way. As I looked back, the slavers had given up the chase and were dashing back to their van.

Wearing running shoes, a t-shirt, and blue jeans, Nicky looked back at me incredulously.

"High heels? Really?"

"They're from McAlister and Lancaster of London," I answered.

Nicky just rolled her eyes, "Lean into it."

Careening back onto the road at the first intersection, Nicky leaned hard to the right and I followed her lead as we cut a sharp right turn and speed through the middle of a double line of cars waiting for a light. Running the red light, Nicky recklessly darted our motorcycle though the oncoming traffic causing shock and pandemonium as she went. I winced as I heard the metallic crunch of a fender bender behind us and the angry honking of nearly a dozen car horns. As we took another sharp curve, I looked back and couldn't see the gray van anywhere.

"I think we've lost them," I said.

"Look for a drone," Nicky warned.

I scoured the sky but couldn't see anything.

"I don't see it."

"Look again, it's there."

Just as I was about to say we were clear, I saw it; a little white helicopter with a camera mounted on a swivel beneath it. About a couple of feet in length, I saw the drone as it was turning the corner about a 100 yards behind us and started closing on us fast. I screamed and Nicky gunned the engine, covering the next few blocks quickly, but it wasn't fast enough; the drone kept pace.

"It's right behind us," I cried out.

"Shit!"

I had never been the scooter-trash type, motorbikes scared me. But Nicky had a wild side to her and had raced dirt bikes for several years. She was quite comfortable doing things with motorcycles that made me most uncomfortable. Opening up the throttle as far as it would go, Nicky pushed to bike to maximum speed and threaded her way recklessly through the heavy traffic. As I looked back, I saw the drone falling behind, unable to match our speed.

"Where is it?" Nicky asked.

"A block and a half back."

Nicky took a quick right, another right, and then a left.

"Where is it now?" Nicky asked.

"You've lost it," I said.