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Bill locked it on Elaine's neck and nodded to the guard again. He let go of Elaine and left the room. Elaine was alone with Bill now, something had just happened, but she was not sure what.
"Kneel," Bill said and pointed to a rug on the floor.
"Yes, sir," Elaine answered and dutifully knelt before him.
Bill studied her silently for a moment.
"You are now wearing your new collar," he explained to her. "It is functional and is what you will be wearing while in the compound or traveling with someone from here. When you have proven your trustworthiness, we will give you another or when we want you to look more appealing. As I said, it is functional rather than attractive, but it does have some special features on it." He took a small controller from his pocket. "Allow me to demonstrate. If I push this green button, like this," he pushed the button and a short, sharp shock hit Elaine from the collar, "it is to get your attention. This next button, the yellow one, hurts," he pushed it and Elaine gave a yell as pain coursed through her body. "The longer I push it," he said and held down the button. The pain grew worse, "the stronger the pain becomes." He let go and Elaine fell to her bottom on the floor. "This last one," he pointed to the red one, "incapacitates you. Think of it as a wearable taser." He pushed it and suddenly everything went black for Elaine, she lost all control of her arms and legs and fell to the floor twitching.
Bill waited a minute for Elaine to regain her senses. "I hope I won't have to use any but the green button. The collar also tracks your movement. If you come within 20 feet of the perimeter you will be given a green shock. If you get to the perimeter, you get yellow. If you cross the line, red."
"Kneel, slave," Bill said. Elaine struggled back to her knees and obediently knelt. "I'm sure you are finding this all confusing and while slaves are not owed any explanation, some understanding of what is going on will make your transition easier."
"Thank you, sir," Elaine answered, more out of duty than any actual feeling of gratitude. Her hands and feet still tingled.
"You are no longer the slave of Roy Barnhardt," Bill explained. "One can argue that while your enslavement was legitimate, your enslavement by Roy was not. In fact, that is precisely what your friend Amanda has been arguing and the Association has agreed with her."
"Sir?" Elaine asked. "Am I your slave now?"
"As much as you are anyone's slave," Bill continued. "Roy acquired you by breaking into Amanda's e-mail, finding all her data on you and using this to swipe you out from under her. Normally, this sort of thing is frowned upon and warrants some minor punishment. Think of it as misdemeanor crimes. There would be a fine, maybe some access rights for the wronged party. What makes this different is Amanda is involved," Bill took a drink of water then continued. "Amanda has an unusual but not unique talent. Somehow, and we are not quite sure how, she can sniff out potential slaves, submissive women with the right mindset to be owned. Women like yourself. The Association is always on the lookout for ways to increase the slave supply. They have recognized the talent that Amanda and people like her possess and have sought to encourage it."
Elaine nodded and followed along. A lot of what he was saying reminded her of the debates on C-SPAN, tax policy and the like. Except that this directly concerned her.
"They implemented a series of rules to make it easier for Ropers, that's what people with Amanda's talent are called, to find and sell slaves. The idea being if you make it easier for the Ropers to find and sell slaves, and easier to make a better profit, they are encouraged to find more slaves. What they worried about was that people would just follow the Ropers around, see who they were after then swoop in and poach the slaves."
"Just like Roy did, sir," Elaine said. She flinched after speaking, worried that she had spoken out of turn. To her mild surprise, Bill actually seemed please that she had grasped that concept.
"Yes," he continued, "Amanda filed a rsi1001 form, the Association loves their forms, on you the day before she was supposed to meet you. Normally, she would have done this months ago when she first identified you, but for some reason she did not. This means that no one else can claim you as a slave without either paying Amanda an agreed upon fee or giving Amanda the right to you first, the good old 'right of first refusal'. Roy's paperwork claiming you got in first so he thought that there was no problem. After what happened with Mark and Sam, we all thought he was in the clear with Amanda and the Association."
"So what happened, sir?" Elaine asked.
"Shortly after things were concluded with Mark; Amanda, with the help of a rather clever and intense Association lawyer; filed a claim against you. She cited the rsi1001 as the basis for her claim and Roy's actions in hacking your e-mail and poaching you. She hasn't said why she is making the claim, nor did she respond to any efforts to negotiate this. All she wanted is the rights to you."
Elaine remembered how Amanda had wanted Elaine to run away with her and how Elaine had refused her and stolen away in the night. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, as the old saying went.
"Amanda brought all of this to a head and sent her lawyer to Las Vegas last night with a panel of Association executives, specifically the Association Judicial Panel for District 7. She was not here, but they were. Based on the evidence, they sided with Amanda."
"I am her slave now, sir?" Elaine asked. There were worse things that could happen; Elaine might even be happy serving Amanda.
"That would be the usual protocol, but, no. Amanda has declared you to be an open slave. It's a rather mean and spiteful thing to do. It means she gets no profit from you. What an 'open slave' is is a slave without an owner. The first person who can catch you and register you in
Nevermind... now I remember. Monon becomes your owner. Until then, there is no one to protect you, no one to look out for your interests until you get a new owner, no one to say 'no' for you."
"I have to obey them until they become my owner? Anyone who takes me and does whatever they want?" Elaine asked, and then hastily added "sir".
"Understand, you are never under any obligation to obey. The Association will not punish you for disobedience. It is up to whoever has you to make you obey." He held up the controller as an example. "A good and well trained slave knows and embraces her place and needs only a reminder now and then," Bill said. "Some of the more spirited ones need more correction. If, when, someone gets you, you don't have to obey, but they can do what is necessary to make you. Keep in mind, Elaine, that most members of the Association are well versed in making slaves obey."
Elaine sat in shocked silence as all this set in. She was still going to be a slave, she thought that she was okay with that part; she had embraced her life as property. But Roy was not going to be her owner anymore and that scared her and saddened her. She knew Roy; she knew he would always make sure she was safe. He was her Master, her Owner, her lover. Well, she loved him, he never said anything. What would a new owner be like? What would he (or she) do to Elaine or make Elaine do? It scared her and aroused her, too; Elaine was used to that mix of feelings.
"Are you going to be my owner now, sir?" Elaine asked, wondering if she should address him as Master.
"That is the plan," Bill said. "I do have possession of you, but I will not keep you. You see, Elaine, I am a slave dealer. This whole lovely spread," he motioned expansively, "exists solely for the purpose of buying and selling slaves, like you. In a day or two, after I get some details worked out, I'll have Syd take you to Monon to get you registered and then you will officially become my slave. After that I will put you on the market and see what price I can get for you. I have already had a few inquiries. While I am not your current owner, I expect you to obey me and everyone else here. Otherwise, steps will have to be taken. Do we understand each other, slave?" Bill asked as he stood above her, he waved the controller at her.
"Yes, sir," Elaine said softly and nodded.
"Good," Bill said. "While you are here, what you have to do is simple. All you have to do is do what you are told. I have other interests and other projects I am working on, so you will not see a lot of me after this. I am not saying your time here will be easy, but it will be easier if you are a good slave."
"Yes, sir," Elaine answered and wondered yet again where all of this would lead.
"Good," Bill said. "Now, stand up and bend over my desk."
Elaine took a deep breath, she knew this would happen. She just felt that anyone who saw her was going to fuck her and since she was firmly under Bill's power he definitely would. "Yes, sir," she said and slowly rose to her feet.
Bill was a little indulgent of her slow pace. He knew that right now she still had pins and needles in her hands and feet from the collar. He had tried the collars out on himself a few years ago when they started using them just to be sure they had the right effect, so he knew what she was feeling. He watched as she stood, took a couple of steps to his desk and bent over at the waist for him. Bill was not obsessed with Elaine like so many other men seemed to be, but he did understand the appeal of her. She had a quiet innocence and a beauty that complimented it perfectly. Personally, he preferred bigger boobs, more curves and a brassy personality, like Pixie. But he knew, packaged correctly and offered to the right buyer, he could make a tidy profit on this woman.
Bill stepped in behind her, his professional eye evaluating her. He had made a quick appraisal of her when they were at the Association bar, but now, in his office at his leisure, he could be a little more thorough. He would have to get lots of pictures taken for records and catalogs, a complete medical evaluation and maybe a psych profile. He thought it might take a month after he registered her in Monon before he could put her on the market. That month would certainly make Pixie happy.
The welts on Elaine's back were the question at the moment. Was it better to market her with fresh whip marks, or as a blank piece of canvas? Well, he would have to find out. He made a notation in her file that she was not to be whipped until these welts had healed; it took only a few seconds to add whip marks but days and weeks for them to heal. She definitely had to be marketed in bondage, cuffs and collar made her even more appealing.
Bill took a camera off the shelf and took a few pictures of Elaine bent over the desk; ,ore data for her file. He could see her breathing heavily and that her pussy was already getting wet. That was what he had heard about Elaine: that she was amazingly responsive and came easily when forced.
"Slave?" Bill asked her.
"Yes, sir?" Elaine answered.
"Do you like being fucked more when you are tied up or not?" he asked her.
Elaine sucked in a quick breath. No one had asked her that directly before, but she knew the answer. "Tied up, sir," she said softly.
"Why is that?" Bill asked and set the camera back down.
"It makes me feel more helpless, more in the man's power, sir" Elaine answered. He had not even touched her yet, but she knew he would and she wanted him inside her.
"Or woman's?" Bill asked.
"Or woman's, sir," Elaine answered.
Elaine jumped when Bill slipped his hand between her thighs and brushed her wet pussy. Bill put his left hand on the small of her back to hold her down while the right explored her wetness. Bill knew how to manipulate a woman's body and he was more interested in how she responded to him than what her pussy felt like. She was dripping and her color turned redder as he slowly brought her closer and closer to climax with his hand. She shuddered and tried to rise, but he held her down. Just as a reminder, though, he slapped her ass with his left hand.
"Stay still, slave," he reprimanded her.
"Yes, sir," Elaine moaned. She bit her lip and tried to focus only on the pleasure he was bringing her.
Bill brought her right to the edge of an orgasm and held her there. It was difficult; he had encountered few slaves who climaxed as easily as Elaine seemed to. He watched the clock on the wall and held her on the cusp of her climax for a full five minutes. Every muscle in her delicious body strained, she clamped down on his fingers and tried to push against him to get that last little bit of stimulus that would bring her relief, but Bill was one step ahead of her.
"Please, sir," Elaine started to beg.
Bill slapped her ass again. "No talking, slave," he commanded.
Bill was half tempted just to leave her like this, unsatisfied, but he wanted to experience her more fully. Elaine moaned in disappointment as Bill took his hands off of and out of her. Bill took down his pants behind her and guided his hard cock to her wet entrance. Elaine moaned happily as he forced his way inside her, filling her hot cunt.
Bill thought she was a nice fuck as he started to slide in and out of her, a beautiful, tight vagina that clung to him as he took her. He slapped her ass again, first one side then the other and began to fuck her roughly. Just as he thought, she came instantly. Bill took his time with her, slowing his pace, playing her body, watching her reactions. She would make someone a very nice slave. He made a mental note for a few men who might enjoy owning her, better for private screenings than an auction for this one.
Bill pulled out of her pussy, his cock wet and slick from her. He paused only briefly, then pushed his shaft into her ass. Elaine yelped as he forced into her battered ring of muscle and tried to rise up, but Bill spanked her again and again until she put her chest back down on the desk in submission.
A lovely little ass, Bill thought as he pleasured himself there. It would add at least 15% to her price. He reached under and began rubbing her clit as he fucked her ass. Elaine jumped, then, as Bill expected, reached another orgasm. Bill rammed hard into while she came and soon he finished, too and shot a load of cum into her bowels.
Elaine realized he was done when he pulled out of her and she felt the semen drip from her ass. She shuddered; it had been very intense and very pleasurable to be used by this man. He was definitely an expert on women. If her new owner could do these things to her, it might not be so bad. At the same time, she did not feel any particular attraction or fondness from him. To Bill, she was nothing special, just another slave. She wanted to be desired by her owner, desired for her and her own uniqueness, not just another generic woman with three holes to fill. She wanted more than just the physical pleasure.
Bill wiped himself up then made a quick wipe of Elaine's pussy and ass. He did not want her dripping on the carpets. He pulled his pants back up. He had enough information to make a decent appraisal of her.
"Get up, slave," he told Elaine.
"Yes, sir," Elaine stood up and faced the man who had just ravished her. He did not look at her but pushed an intercom button and summoned the guard. "Thank you for fucking me, sir," she added.
"Take this one back to room C2 and leave her there," he told the guard.
The guard had Elaine walk in front of him the whole way back, she knew he was staring at her reddened ass and probably waiting for a chance to use it. When they went into the building where Elaine's room was, another guard, one of the ones from the morning, was at the desk. He handed a key to Elaine's escort and leered at Elaine as she was led through the door.
A few women were in the living room now. Elaine saw that they all were wearing collars like hers. She was shocked to see one woman on her knees performing oral sex on another woman in the back corner. The woman on her knees had her hands tied behind her back and fresh looking welts on her skin while the other woman held a small whip. Elaine realized she was staring, imagining herself on her knees in place of the tied woman.
Elaine was confused and out of sorts as she was pulled down the hallway. Would she be forced to do those things until she was sold? And why did she find the idea so arousing? Because she liked to be dominated by women, was the answer and she knew it.
Elaine was taken back to the same room. Her guard unlocked the door. She wondered if he was going to follow her in for another blow job or something more. He grabbed her breasts, pinching and pulling her nipples for a moment, then opened the door. He pushed her in then closed the door behind her. Elaine was glad he had left her alone, but knew she had not seen the last of him. She also realized he had left her cuffed; there was not much she could do until they were off. But she could sleep. She just wanted to lie down, curl up, cry for a little while then sleep and hope she felt better when she awoke.
Elaine crawled into bed and adjusted the covers as well as she could with her hands still cuffed. She was a little hungry, too, but she would eat when they fed her. She curled up under the blankets, aware that at any time someone could come for her, come and fuck her. Was this what it meant to be a slave? A slave, not Roy's Slave?
Elaine thought back about what Bill had done to her. She had always taken it for granted, or at least since Roy, that she would be wanted. She had been hunted and taken by Roy and since him every man and woman had wanted her to the point of stealing and raping her. Even with Syd, she felt that she was more than just a hole to fuck. The only one who had made her feel like she was just a toy was Bill. The sex itself had been fine, but Elaine tried to imagine being owned by a man who had no strong desire or obsession for her. It seemed like an empty feeling and one that would make her time as a slave wasted.
She missed Roy and the security of being his slave. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she fell asleep.
--------------------
Delrin Ringe looked at the picture of the slave again. What was her name? He checked the file. Elaine. A lovely name for a lovely woman. She was a work of art and he was going to destroy her. Normally, Delrin liked to have some plan in place before he started work on a woman, some general script to follow. Certainly, the script was just a start and he invariably improvised and changed things as he went along. It always came down to the woman and how she reacted. He could never tell how one would do until he started, how she would react to the pain. Some he would tell ahead of time that he was going to kill them, just to get the desperation and fatalism in their actions. For others, it would be a surprise. They would think as long as they cooperated they would get out alive.
